THE

HISTORY OF PAINTING

IN

ITALY.

VOL. I.

THE

HISTORY OF PAINTING

IN

ITALY,

FROM THE PERIOD OF THE REVIVAL OF

THE FINE ARTS

TO THE END OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY:

TRANSLATED

From the Original Italian

OF THE

ABATE LUIGI LANZI.

By THOMAS ROSCOE.

IN SIX VOLUMES.

VOL. I.

CONTAINING THE SCHOOLS OF FLORENCE AND SIENA.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR

W. SIMPKIN AND R. MARSHALL,

STATIONERS’-HALL COURT, LUDGATE STREET.

1828.

J. M’Creery, Tooks Court,
Chancery Lane,
London.

[Pg iii]

ADVERTISEMENT.

After the very copious and excellent remarks upon the
objects of the present history contained in the Author’s Preface, the
Translator feels that it would be useless on his part to add any further
explanation.

It would not be right, however, to close these volumes without some
acknowledgment of the valuable assistance he has received. Amongst
others, he is particularly indebted to Dr. Traill, of Liverpool, who
after proceeding to some length with a translation of this work, kindly
placed what he had completed in the hands of the Translator, with
liberty to make such use of it as might be deemed advantageous to the
present undertaking. To Mr. W. Y. Ottley, who also contemplated, and in
part executed, a version of the same author, the Translator has to
express his obligations for several explanations of terms of art, which
the intimacy of that gentleman with the fine arts, in all their
branches, peculiarly qualifies him to impart.[1]
Similar acknowledgments are[Pg iv] due to an enlightened and learned
foreigner, Mr. Panizzi, of Liverpool, for his kind explanation of
various obscure phrases and doubtful passages.

Notwithstanding the anxious desire and unremitting endeavours of the
Translator to render this work, in all instances, as accurate as the
nature of the subject, and the numerous difficulties he had to surmount
would allow, yet, in dismissing it from his hands, he cannot repress the
feeling that he must throw himself upon the indulgence of the public to
excuse such errors as may be discoverable in the text. He trusts,
however, that where it may be found incorrect, it will for the most part
be in those passages where doubtful terms of art lay in his way,
intelligible only to the initiated, and which perhaps many of the
countrymen of Lanzi themselves might not be able very readily to
explain.

[1] The following are among the valuable works
which have been given to the public by Mr. Ottley:—The Italian
School of Design, being a series of Fac-similes of Original Drawings,
&c.—An Inquiry into the History of Engraving.—The
Stafford Gallery.—A Series of Plates engraved after the Paintings
and Sculptures of the most eminent masters of the early Florentine
School, during the 13th, 14th, and 15th centuries. This work forms a
complete illustration of the first volume of Lanzi.—A Catalogue of
the National Gallery.—Fac-similes of Specimens of Early Masters,
&c.

CONTENTS

OF

THE FIRST VOLUME.

HISTORY OF PAINTING IN LOWER ITALY.

BOOK I.

FLORENTINE SCHOOL.

BOOK II.

SIENESE SCHOOL.

[Pg
i]

PREFACE.

When detached or individual histories become so numerous
that they can neither be easily collected nor perused, the public
interest requires a writer capable of arranging and embodying them in
the form of a general historical narrative; not, indeed, by a minute
detail of their whole contents, but by selecting from each that which
appears most interesting and instructive. Hence it mostly happens, that
the diffuse compositions of earlier ages are found to give place to
compendiums, and to succinct history. If this desire has prevailed in
former times, it has been, and now is, more especially the
characteristic of our own. We live in an age highly favourable, in one
sense at least, to the cultivation of intellect: the boundaries of
science are now extended beyond what our forefathers could have hoped,
much less foreseen; and we become anxious only to discover the readiest
methods of obtaining a competent knowledge, at least, of several
sciences, since it is impossible to acquire them all. On the other hand,
the ages [Pg
ii]preceding ours, since the revival of learning, being more
occupied about words than things, and admiring certain objects that now
seem trivial to the generality of readers, have produced historical
compositions, the separate nature of which demands combination, no less
than their prolixity requires abridgment.

If these observations are applicable to other branches of history,
they are especially so to the history of painting. Its materials are
found ready prepared, scattered through numerous memoirs of artists of
every school which, from time to time, have been given to the public:
and additional articles are supplied by dictionaries of art, letters on
painting, guides to several cities, catalogues of various collections,
and by many tracts relating to different artists, which have been
published in Italy. But these accounts, independent of want of
connexion, are not useful to the generality of readers. Who, indeed,
could form a just idea of painting in Italy by perusing the works of
certain historians of latter ages, and some even of our own time, which
abound in invectives, and in attempts to exalt favourite masters above
the artists of all other schools; and which confer eulogies
indiscriminately upon professors of first, second, or third-rate
merit?[2] How few are there who feel[Pg iii]
interested in knowing all that is said of artists with so much verbosity
by Vasari, Pascoli, or Baldinucci; their low jests, their amours, their
private affairs, and their eccentricities? What do we learn by being
informed of the jealousies of the Florentine artists, the quarrels of
the Roman, or the boasts of the Bolognian schools? Who can endure the
verbal accuracy with which their wills and testaments are recorded, even
to the subscription of the notary, as if the author had been drawing up
a legal document; or the descriptions of their stature and physiognomy,
more minute than the ancients afford us of Alexander or Augustus?[3] Not that I object to the introduction of such
particulars in the lives of the great luminaries of art: in a Raffaello
or a Caracci minute circumstances derive interest from the subject; but
how intolerable do they become [Pg iv]in the life of an ordinary individual,
where the principal incidents are but little interesting? Suetonius has
not written the lives of his Cæsars and his grammarians in the same
manner: the former he has rendered familiar to the reader; the latter
are merely noticed and passed over.

The tastes of individuals, however, are different, and some people
delight in minutiæ, as it regards both the present and the past; and
since it may be of utility to those who may hereafter be inclined to
give a very full and perfect history of every thing relating to Italian
painting, let us view with indulgence those who have employed themselves
in compiling lives so copious, and let those who have time to spare,
beguile it with their perusal. At the same time, due regard should be
paid to that very respectable class of readers, who, in a history of
painting, would rather contemplate the artist than the man; and who are
less solicitous to become acquainted with the character of a single
painter, whose solitary and insulated history cannot prove instructive,
than with the genius, the method, the invention, and the style of a
great number of artists, with their characteristics, their merits, and
their rank, the result of which is a history of the whole art.

To this object there is no one whom I know who has hitherto dedicated
his pen, although it seems to be recommended no less by the passion
[Pg
v]indulged by princes for the fine arts, than by the general
diffusion of a knowledge of them among all ranks. The habit of
travelling, rendered more familiar to private persons by the example of
many great sovereigns, the traffic in pictures, now become a branch of
commerce important to Italy, and the philosophic genius of this age,
which shuns prolixity in every study, and requires systematic
arrangement, are additional incentives to the task. It is true that very
pleasing and instructive biographical sketches of the most celebrated
painters have been published by M. d’Argenville, in France; and various
epitomes have since appeared, in which the style of painting alone is
discussed.[4] But without taking into account the corruptions
of the names of our countrymen in which their authors have indulged, or
their omission of celebrated Italians, while they record less eminent
artists of other countries, no work of this sort, and still less any
dictionary, can afford us a systematic history of painting: none of
these exhibit those pictures, if we may be allowed the[Pg vi]
expression, in which we may, at a glance, trace the progress and series
of events; none of them exhibit the principal masters of the art in a
sufficiently conspicuous point of view, while inferior artists are
reduced to their proper size and station: far less can we discover in
them those epochs and revolutions of the art, which the judicious reader
most anxiously desires to know, as the source from which he may trace
the causes that have contributed to its revival or its decline; or from
which he may be enabled to recollect the series, and the arrangement of
the facts narrated. The history of painting has a strong analogy to
literary, to civil, and to sacred history; it too requires, from time to
time, the aid of certain beacons, some particular distinction in regard
to places, times, or events, that may serve to divide it into epochs,
and mark its successive stages. Deprive it of these, and it degenerates,
like other history, into a chaos of names more calculated to load the
memory than to inform the understanding.

To supply this hitherto neglected branch of Italian history, to
contribute to the advancement of the art, and to facilitate the study of
the different styles in painting, were the three objects I proposed to
myself when I began the work which I am now about to lay before the
indulgent reader. My intention was to form a compendious history of all
our schools, in two volumes; adopting, with [Pg vii]little variation,
Pliny’s division of the country into Upper and Lower Italy. It was my
design to comprehend in the first volume the schools of Lower Italy;
because in it the reviving arts came earlier to maturity; and in the
second to include the schools of Upper Italy, which were more tardy in
attaining to celebrity. The first part of my work appeared at Florence
in 1792: the second I was obliged to defer to another opportunity, and
the succeeding years have so shaken my constitution, that I have
scarcely been able to bring it to a conclusion, even with the assistance
of many amanuenses and correctors of the press.[5] One
advantage, however, has been derived from this delay; and that is, a
knowledge of the opinion of [Pg viii]the public, a tribunal from which no
writer can appeal; and I have been thus enabled to prepare a new edition
conformable to its decision.[6] I have understood through
various channels, that an additional number of names and of notices were
necessary to afford satisfaction to the public; and this I have
accomplished, without abandoning my plan of a compendious history. Nor
does the Florentine edition on this account become useless: it will even
be preferred by many to that published at Bassano; the inhabitants, for
instance, of Lower Italy will be pleased to possess a work on their most
illustrious painters, without concerning themselves about accounts of
other places.

To a new work, then, so much more extensive than the former, I prefix
a preface almost entirely new. The plan is not wholly my own, nor
altogether that of others. Richardson[7]
suggested that some historian should collect the scattered remarks on
art, especially on painting, and should point out its progress and
decline through successive ages. He has not even omitted to give us a
sketch, which he brought down to the time of Giordano. [Pg ix]Mengs[8] accomplished the task more perfectly in the
form of a letter, where he judiciously distinguished all the periods of
the art, and has thus laid the foundations of a more enlarged history.
Were I to follow their example, the chief masters of every school would
be considered together, and we should be under the necessity of passing
from one country to another, according as painting acquired a new lustre
from their talents, or was debased by a wrong use of the great example
of those artists. This method might be easily pursued, if the subject
were to be treated in a general point of view, such as Pliny has
considered and transmitted it to posterity; but it is not equally
adapted to the arrangement of a history so fully particular as Italy
seems to require. Besides the styles introduced by the most celebrated
painters, such infinite diversities of a mixed character, often united
with originality of manner, have arisen in every school, that we cannot
easily reduce them to any particular standard: and the same artists at
different periods, and in different pictures, have adopted styles so
various, that at one time they appear imitators of Titian, at another of
Raffaello, or of Correggio. We cannot, therefore, adopt the method of
the naturalist, who having arranged the vegetable kingdom, for example,
in classes more or less numerous, according to the systems of [Pg x]Tournefort
or of Linnæus, can easily reduce a plant, wherever it may happen to
grow, to a particular class, adding a name and description, at once
precise, characteristic, and permanent. In a complete history it is
necessary to distinguish each style from every other: nor do I know any
more eligible method of performing this task, than by composing a
separate history of each school. In this I follow Winckelmann, the best
historian of ancient art in design, who specified as many different
schools as the nations that produced them. A similar plan seems to me to
have been pursued by Rollin, in his History of Nations, who has thus
been enabled to record a prodigious mass of names and events within the
compass of a few volumes, in the clearest order.

The method I follow in treating of each school is analogous to that
prescribed to himself by Sig. Antonio Maria Zanetti,[9] in
his Pittura Veneziana, [Pg xi]a work of its kind highly instructive,
and well arranged. What he has done, in speaking of his own, I have
attempted in the other schools of Italy. I accordingly omit the names of
living painters, and do not notice every picture of deceased artists, as
it would interrupt the connexion of the narrative, and would render the
work too voluminous, but content myself with commending some of their
best productions. I first give a general character of each school; I
then distinguish it into three, four, or more epochs, according as its
style underwent changes with the change of taste, in the same way that
the eras of civil history are deduced from revolutions in governments,
or other remarkable events. A few celebrated painters, who have swayed
the public taste, and given a new tone to the art, are placed at the
head of each epoch; and their style is particularly described, because
the general and characteristic taste of the age has been formed upon
their models. Their immediate pupils, and other disciples of the school,
follow their great masters; and without a repetition of the general
character, reference is made to what each has borrowed, altered, or
added to the style of the founder of the school, or at most such
character is cursorily noticed. This method, though not susceptible of a
strict chronological order, is, on account of the connexion of ideas,
much better adapted to [Pg xii]a history of art than an alphabetic
arrangement, which too frequently interrupts the notices of schools and
eras; or than the method pursued in annals, by which we are often
compelled to make mention of the scholar before the master, should he
survive the former; or that of separate lives, which introduces much
repetition, by obliging the writer to bestow praises on the pupil for
the same style which he also commends in the master, and to notice in
each individual that which was the general character of the age in which
he lived.

For the sake of perspicuity, I have generally separated from
historical painters artists in inferior branches, such as painters of
portraits, of landscape, of animals, of flowers and of fruit, of
sea-pieces, of perspectives, of drolls, and all who merit a place in
such classes. I have also taken notice of some arts which are analogous
to painting, and though they differ from it in the materials employed,
or the manner of using them, may still be included in the art; for
example, engraving of prints, inlaid and mosaic work, and embroidering
tapestry. Vasari, Lomazzo, and several other writers on the fine arts,
have mentioned them; and I have followed their example; contenting
myself with noticing, in each of those arts, only what has appeared most
worthy of being recorded. Each might be the subject of a separate work;
[Pg
xiii]and some of them have long had their own peculiar
historians, and in particular the art of engraving. By this method, in
which I may boast such great examples, I am not without hopes of
affording satisfaction to my readers. I am, however, more apprehensive
in regard to my selection of artists; the number of whom, whatsoever
method is adopted, may to some appear by far too limited, and to others
too greatly extended. But criticism will not so readily apply to the
names of the most illustrious artists, whom I have included, nor to
those of very inferior character, whom I trust I have omitted; except a
few that have some claim to be mentioned, from their connexion with
celebrated masters.[10] The accusation then of
having noticed some, and omitted others, will apply to me only on
account of artists of a middle class, that can be neither well reckoned
among the senate, the equestrian order, nor vulgar herd of painters;
they constitute the class of mediocrity. The adjustment of limits is a
frequent cause of legal contention; and the subject of art now under
[Pg
xiv]discussion, may be considered like a dispute concerning
boundaries. It may often admit of doubt whether a particular artist
approaches more nearly to the class of merit or of insignificance; which
is, in other words, whether he should or should not obtain a place in a
history of the art. Under such uncertainty, which I have several times
encountered, I have more usually inclined to the side of lenity than of
severity; especially when the artist has been noticed with a degree of
commendation by former authors. We ought to bow to public opinion, which
rarely blames us for noticing mediocrity, but frequently for passing it
over in silence. Books on painting abound with complaints against
Orlandi and Guarienti, for their omissions of certain artists. Still
more frequently are authors censured, when the Guide to a city points
out some altar-piece by a native artist, who is not named in our
Dictionaries of Painting. The describers of collections repeat similar
complaints in regard to every painting bearing the signature of an
artist whose name appears in no work of art. Collectors of prints do the
same when they discover the name of some designer, of whom history is
silent, affixed to an engraving. Thus, were we to consult the opinion of
the public, the majority would be inclined to recommend copiousness,
rather than to express satisfaction at a more discriminating [Pg
xv]selection of names. Almost all artists and amateurs
belonging to every city, would be desirous that I should commemorate as
many of their second rate painters as possible; and our selection,
therefore, in this respect, nearly resembles the exercise of justice,
which is generally applauded as long as it visits only the dwellings of
others, but is cried down by each individual when it knocks at his own
door. Thus a writer who is bound to observe impartiality towards every
city, can scarcely shew great severity to artists of mediocrity in any.
This too is not without reason; for to pass mediocrity in silence may be
the study of a good orator, but not the office of a good historian.
Cicero himself, in his treatise De claris Oratoribus, has given a
place to less eloquent orators, and it may be observed that, after this
example, the literary history of every people does not merely include
its most classic writers, and those who approached nearest to them; but
it adds short and concise accounts of authors less celebrated; and in
the Iliad, which is a history of the heroic age, there are a few eminent
leaders, many valiant soldiers, and a prodigious crowd of others, whom
the poet has transiently noticed. In our case, it is still more
incumbent on the historian to give mediocrity a place along with the
eminent and most excellent. Many books describe that class in terms so
vague, and sometimes [Pg xvi]so discordant, that to form a proper
estimate of their claims, we must introduce them among superior artists,
as a sort of performers in third-rate parts. Such, however, I am not
solicitous to exhibit very minutely, more especially when treating of
painters in fresco, and generally of other artists, whose works are now
unknown in collections, or add more to the bulk than the ornament of a
gallery. Thus also in point of number, my work has maintained the
character of a compendium: but if any of my readers, adopting the rigid
maxim of Bellori, that, in the fine arts, as in poetry, mediocrity is
not to be tolerated,[11] should disdain the middle
class of artists, he must look [Pg xvii]for the heads of schools, and for the
most eminent painters: to these he may dedicate his attention, and turn
his regard from the others like one,

Having described my plan, let us next consider the three objects
originally proposed, of which the first was to present Italy with a
history that may prove important to her fame. This delightful country is
already indebted to Tiraboschi for a history of her literature, but she
is still in want of a history of her arts. The history of painting, an
art in which she is confessedly without a rival, I propose to supply, or
at least to facilitate the attempt. In some departments of literature,
and of the fine arts, we are equalled, or even surpassed by foreigners;
and in others the palm is yet doubtful: but in painting, universal
consent now yields the triumph to Italian genius, and foreigners are the
more esteemed in proportion to their approach towards us. It is time
then, for the honour of Italy, to collect in one point of view, those
observations on her painting, scattered through upwards of a hundred
volumes, and to embody them in what Horace terms series et
junctura; without which the work cannot be pronounced a history. I
[Pg
xviii]will not conceal, that the author of the “History of
Italian Literature” above mentioned, frequently animated me to this
undertaking, as a sequel to his own work. He also wished me to subjoin
other anecdotes to those already published, and to substitute more
authentic documents for the inaccuracies abounding in our Dictionaries
of painting. I have attended to both these objects. The reader will here
find various schools never hitherto illustrated, and an entire school,
that of Ferrara, now first described from the manuscripts of Baruffaldi
and of Crespi; and in other schools he will often observe names of fresh
artists, which I have either collected from ancient MSS.[13] and the correspondence of my learned friends,
or deciphered on old paintings. Although such pictures are confined to
cabinets, it cannot prove useless to extend a more intimate acquaintance
with their authors. The reader will also meet with many new observations
on the origin of painting, and on its diffusion in [Pg
xix]Italy, formerly a fruitful subject of debate and
contention; and likewise here and there with some original reflections
on the masters, to whom various disciples may be traced; a branch of
history, the most uncertain of any. Old writers of respectability often
mention Raffaello, Correggio, or some other celebrated artist, as the
master of a painter, without any better foundation than a similarity of
style; just as the credulous heathens imagined one hero to be the son of
Hercules, because he was strong; another of Mercury, because he was
ingenious; a third of Neptune, because he had performed several long
voyages. Errors like these are easily corrected when they are
accompanied by some inadvertency in the writer; as for instance, where
he has not been aware that the age of the disciple does not correspond
with that of his supposed master. Occasionally, however, their detection
is attended with more difficulty; and in particular when the artist,
whose reputation is wholly founded upon that of his master, represented
himself in foreign parts, as the disciple of men of celebrity, whom he
scarcely knew by sight. Of this we have an example in Agostino Tassi,
and more recently in certain soidisant disciples of Mengs; to
whom it scarcely appears that he ever so much as said, “Gentlemen,
how do you do?”

Finally, the reader will find some less obvious notices relating to
the name, the country, and [Pg xx]the age of different artists. The
deficiency of our Dictionaries in interesting names, together with their
inaccuracy, are common subjects of complaint. I can excuse the compilers
of these works; I know how easily we may be misled in regard to names
which have been often gathered from vulgar report, or even from authors
who differ in point of orthography, some giving opposite readings of the
same name. But it is quite necessary that such mistakes should once for
all be cleared up. The index of this work will form a new Dictionary of
Painters, certainly more copious, and perhaps more accurate than usual,
although it might be still further improved, especially by consulting
archives and manuscripts.[14]

[Pg
xxi]The second object which I had in view was to advance the
interests of the art as much as lay in my power. It was of old observed
that examples have a more powerful influence on the arts than any
precepts can possess; and this is particularly true in respect to
painting. Whoever writes history upon the model of the learned ancients,
ought not only to narrate events, but to investigate their secret
sources and their causes. Now these will be here developed, tracing the
progress of painting as it advanced or declined in each school; and
these causes being invariable, point out the means of its improvement,
by shewing what ought to be[Pg xxii] pursued and what avoided. Such
observations are not of importance to the artist alone, but have a
reference also to other individuals. In the Roman school, during its
second epoch, I perceive that the progress of the arts invariably
depends on certain principles universally adopted in that age, according
to which artists worked, and the public decided. A general history, by
pointing out the best maxims of art, may contribute considerably to make
them known and regarded; and hence artists can execute, and others
approve or direct, on principles no longer uncertain and questionable,
nor deduced from the manner of a particular school, but founded on
maxims unerring and established, and strengthened by the uniform
practice of all schools and all ages. We may add, that in a history so
diversified, numerous examples occur suited to the genius of different
students, who have often to lament their want of success from this
circumstance alone, that they had neglected to follow the path in which
nature had destined them to tread. On the influence of examples I shall
add no more: should any one be desirous also of precepts under every
school, he will find them given, not indeed by me, but by those who have
written more ably on the art, and whom I have diligently consulted with
regard to different masters, as I shall hereafter mention.

My third object was to facilitate an acquaintance with the various
styles of painting. The artist or [Pg xxiii]amateur indeed,
who has studied the manner of all ages and of every school, on meeting
with a picture can very readily assign it, if not to a particular
master, at least to a certain style, much as antiquarians, from a
consideration of the paper and the characters, are enabled to assign a
manuscript to a particular era; or as critics conjecture the age and
place in which an anonymous author flourished, from his phraseology.
With similar lights we proceed to investigate the school and era of
artists; and by a diligent examination of prints, drawings, and other
relics belonging to the period, we at length determine the real author.
Much of the uncertainty, with regard to pictures, arises from a
similitude between the style of different masters: these I collect
together under one head, and remark in what one differs from the other.
Ambiguity often arises from comparing different works of the same
painter, when the style of some of them does not seem to accord with his
general manner, nor with the great reputation he may have acquired. On
account of such uncertainty, I usually point out the master of each
artist, because all at the outset imitate the example offered by their
teachers; and I, moreover, note the style formed, and adhered to by
each, or abandoned for another manner; I sometimes mark the age in which
he lived, and his greater or less assiduity in his profession. By an
attentive consideration of [Pg xxiv]such circumstances, we may avoid
pronouncing a picture spurious, which may have been painted in old age,
or negligently executed. Who, for instance, would receive as genuine all
the pictures of Guido, were it not known that he sometimes affected the
style of Caracci, of Calvart, or of Caravaggio; and at other times
pursued a manner of his own, in which, however, he was often very
unequal, as he is known to have painted three or four different pieces
in a single day? Who would suppose that the works of Giordano were the
production of the same artist, if it were not known that he aspired to
diversify his style, by adopting the manner of various ancient artists?
These are indeed well known facts, but how many are there yet unnoted
that are not unworthy of being related, if we wish to avoid falling into
error? Such will be found noticed in my work, among other anecdotes of
the various masters, and the different styles.

I am aware that to become critically acquainted with the diversity of
styles is not the ultimate object to which the travels and the eager
solicitude of the connoisseur aspire. His object is to make himself
familiar with the handling of the most celebrated masters, and to
distinguish copies from originals. Happy should I be, could I promise to
accomplish so much! Even they might consider themselves fortunate, who
dedicate their lives to [Pg xxv]such pursuits, were they enabled to
discover any short, general, and certain rules for infallibly
determining this delicate point! Many rely much upon history for the
truth. But how frequently does it happen that the authority of an
historian is cited in favour of a family picture, or an altar-piece, the
original of which having been disposed of by some of the predecessors,
and a copy substituted in its place, the latter is supposed to be a
genuine painting! Others seem to lay great stress on the importance of
places, and hesitate to raise doubts respecting any specimen they find
contained in royal and select galleries, assuming that they really
belong to the artists referred to in the gallery descriptions and
catalogues. But here too they are liable to mistake; inasmuch as many
private individuals, as well as princes, unable to purchase ancient
pictures at any price, contented themselves with such copies of their
imitators as approached nearest to the old masters. Some indeed were
made by professors purposely despatched by princes in search of them; as
in the instance of Rodolph I., who employed Giuseppe Enzo, a celebrated
copyist. (See Boschini, p. 62, and Orlandi, on Gioseffo Ains di Berna.)
External proofs, therefore, are insufficient, without adding a knowledge
of different manners. The acquisition of such discrimination is the
fruit only of long experience, and deep reflection on the style of each
master: [Pg
xxvi]and I shall endeavour to point out the manner in which
it may be obtained.[15]

To judge of a master we must attend to his design, and this is to be
acquired from his drawings, from his pictures, or, at least, from
accurate engravings after them. A good connoisseur in prints is more
than half way advanced in the art of judging pictures; and he who aims
at this must study engravings with unremitting assiduity. It is thus his
eye becomes familiarized to the artist’s method of delineating and
foreshortening the figure, to the air of his heads and the casting of
his draperies; to that action, that peculiarity of conception, of
disposing, and of contrasting, which are habitual to his character. Thus
is he, as it were, introduced to the different families of youths, of
children, of women, of old men, and of individuals in the vigour of
life, which each artist has adopted as his own, and has usually
exhibited in his pictures. We cannot be too well versed in such matters,
so minute or almost insensible are the distinctions between the
imitators of one master, (such as Michelangiolo, for example,) who have
perhaps studied the same cartoon, or the same statues, and, as it were,
learned to write after the same model.

More originality is generally to be discovered in[Pg
xxvii] colouring, a branch of the art formed by a painter
rather on his own judgment, than by instruction. The amateur can never
attain experience in this branch who has not studied many pictures by
the same master; who has not observed his selection of colours, his
method of separating, of uniting, and of subduing them; what are his
local tints, and what the general tone that harmonizes the colours he
employs. This tint, however clear and silvery in Guido and his
followers, bright and golden in Titiano and his school, and thus of the
rest, has still as many modifications as there are masters in the art.
The same remark extends to middle tints and to chiaroscuro, in which
each artist employs a peculiar method.

These are qualities which catch the eye at a distance, yet they will
not always enable the critic to decide with certainty; whether, for
instance, a certain picture is the production of Vinci, or Luini, who
imitated him closely; whether another be an original picture by Barocci,
or an exact copy from the hand of Vanni. In such cases judges of art
approach closer to the picture with a determination to examine it with
the same care and accuracy as are employed in a judicial question, upon
the recognition of hand-writing. Fortunately for society, nature has
granted to every individual a peculiar character in this respect, which
it is not easy to counterfeit, nor to mistake [Pg xxviii]for any other
person’s writing. The hand, habituated to move in a peculiar manner,
always retains it: in old age the characters may be more slowly traced,
may become more negligent or more heavy; but the form of the letters
remains the same. So it is in painting. Every artist not only retains
this peculiarity, but one is distinguished by a full charged pencil;
another by a dry but neat finish; the work of one exhibits blended
tints, that of another distinct touches; and each has his own manner of
laying on the colours:[16] but even in regard to what
is common to so many, each has a peculiar handling and direction of the
pencil, a marking of his lines more or less waved, more or less free,
and more or less studied, by which those truly skilled from long
experience are enabled, after a due consideration of all circumstances,
to decide who was the real author. Such judges do[Pg xxix]
not fear a copyist, however excellent. He will, perhaps, keep pace with
his model for a certain time, but not always; he may sometimes shew a
free, but commonly a timid, servile, and meagre pencil; he will not be
long able, with a free hand, to keep his own style concealed under the
manner of another, more especially in regard to less important points,
such as the penciling of the hair, and in the fore- and back-grounds of the picture.[17] Certain observations on the canvas and the
priming ground may sometimes assist inquiry; and hence some have
endeavoured to attain greater certainty by a chemical analysis of the
colours. Diligence is ever laudable when exerted on a point so nice as
ascertaining the hand-work of a celebrated master. It may prevent our
paying ten guineas for what may not be worth two; or placing in a choice
collection pictures that will not do it credit; while to the curious it
affords scientific views, instead of creating prejudices that often
engender errors. That mistakes should happen is not surprising. A true
connoisseur is still more rare than a good artist. His skill is the
result of only indirect application; it is acquired amidst other
pursuits, and divides the attention with other objects; the means of
attaining it fall to the lot of few; and still fewer practise it
successfully. [Pg
xxx]Among the number of the last I do not reckon myself. By
this work I pretend not, I repeat it, to form an accomplished
connoisseur in painting: my object is to facilitate and expedite the
acquisition of such knowledge. The history of painting is the basis of
connoisseurship; by combining it, I supersede the necessity of referring
to many books; by abbreviating it I save the time and labour of the
student; and by arranging it in a proper manner on every occasion, I
present him with the subject ready prepared and developed before
him.

It remains, in the last place, that I should give some account of
myself; of the criticisms that I, who am not an artist, have ventured to
pass upon each painter: and, indeed, if the professors of the art had as
much leisure and experience in writing as they have ability, every
author might resign to them the field. The propriety of technical terms,
the abilities of artists, and the selection of specimens of art, are
usually better understood, even by an indifferent artist, than by the
learned connoisseur: but since those occupied in painting have not
sufficient leisure to write, others, assisted by them, may be permitted
to undertake the office.[18]

[Pg
xxxi]By the mutual assistance which the painter has afforded
to the man of letters, and the man of letters to the artist, the history
of painting has been greatly advanced. The merits of the best painters
are already so ably discussed that a modern historian can treat the
subject advantageously. The criticisms I most regard are those that come
directly from professors of the art. We meet with few from the pen of
Raphael, of Titian, of Poussin, and of other great masters; such as
exist, however, I regard as most precious, and deserving the most
careful preservation; for, in general, those who can best perform can
likewise judge the best. Vasari, Lomazzo, Passeri, Ridolfi, Boschini,
Zanotti, and Crespi, require, perhaps, to be narrowly watched in some
passages where they allowed themselves to be surprised by a spirit of
party: but, on the whole, they have an undoubted right to dictate to us,
because they were themselves painters. Bellori, Baldinucci, Count
Malvasia, Count Tassi, and similar writers, hold an inferior rank; but
are not wholly destitute of authority: for though mere
dilettanti, they have collected [Pg xxxii]both the opinions
of professors and of the public. This will at present suffice, with
regard to the historians of the art: we shall notice each of them
particularly under the school which he has described.

In pronouncing a criticism upon each artist I have adopted the plan
of Baillet, the author of a voluminous history of works on taste, where
he does not so frequently give his own opinion as that of others.
Accordingly, I have collected the various remarks of connoisseurs, which
were scattered through the pages of history; but I have not always cited
my authorities, lest I should add too much to the dimensions of my
book;[19] nor have I regarded their opinion when they
seemed to me to have been influenced by prejudice. I have availed myself
of the observations of some approved critics, like Borghini, Fresnoy,
Richardson, Bottari, Algarotti, Lazzarini, and Mengs; with others who
have rather criticised our painters than written their lives. I have
also respected the opinions of[Pg xxxiii] living
critics, by consulting different professors in Italy: to them I have
submitted my manuscript; I have followed their advice, especially when
it related to design, or any other department of painting, in which
artists are almost the only adequate judges. I have conversed with many
connoisseurs, who, in some points, are not less skilful than the
professors of the art, and are even consulted by artists with advantage;
as, for instance, on the suitableness of the subject, on the propriety
of the invention and the expression, on the imitation of the antique, on
the truth of the colouring. Nor have I failed to study the greatest part
of the best productions of the schools of Italy; and to inform myself in
the different cities what rank their least known painters hold among
their connoisseurs; persuaded, as I am, that the most accurate opinion
of any artist is formed where the greatest number of his works are to be
seen, and where he is most frequently spoken of by his fellow citizens
and by strangers. In this way, also, I have been enabled to do justice
to the merits of several artists who had been passed over, either
because the historian of their school had never beheld their
productions, or had merely met with some early and trivial specimens in
one city, being unacquainted with the more perfect and mature specimens
they had produced elsewhere.

Notwithstanding my diligence I do not presume[Pg xxxiv] to offer this as
a work to which much might not be added. It has never happened that a
history, embracing so many objects, is at once produced perfect; though
it may gradually be rendered so. The history earliest in point of time,
becomes, in the end, the least in authority; and its greatest merit is
in having paved the way to more finished performances. Perfection is
still less to be expected in a compendium. The reader is here presented
with the names of many artists and authors; but many others might have
been admitted, whom want of leisure or opportunity, but not of respect,
has obliged us to omit. Here he will find a variety of opinions; but to
these many others might have been added. There is no man, of whom all
think alike. Baillet, just before mentioned, is a proof of this, with
regard to writers on literary subjects; and he who thinks the task
worthy of his pains might demonstrate it much more fully with respect to
different painters. Each judges by principles peculiar to himself:
Bonarruoti stigmatized as drivelling, Pietro Perugino and Francia, both
luminaries of the art; Guido, if we may credit history, was disapproved
of by Cortona; Caravaggio by Zucchero; Guercino by Guido; and, what
seems more extraordinary, Domenichino by most of the artists who
flourished at Rome, when he painted his finest pictures.[20] Had these artists written of [Pg
xxxv]their rivals they either would have condemned them, or
spoken less favourably of them than unprejudiced individuals. Hence it
is that connoisseurs will frequently be found to approach nearer the
truth, in forming their estimate, than artists; the former adopt the
impartial feelings of the public, while the latter allow themselves to
be influenced by motives of envy or of prejudice. Innumerable similar
disputes are still maintained concerning several artists, who, like
different kinds of aliment, are found to be disagreeable or grateful to
different palates. To hold the happy mean, exempted from all party
spirit, is as impossible as to reconcile the opinions of mankind, which
are as multifarious as are the individuals of the species.

Amid such discrepancy of opinion I have judged it expedient to avoid
the most controverted points; in others, to subscribe to the decision of
the majority; [Pg xxxvi]to allow to each his particular
opinion;[21] but not, if possible, to
disappoint the reader, desirous of learning what is most authentic and
generally received. Ancient writers appear to have pursued this plan
when treating of the professors of any art, in which they themselves
were mere amateurs; nor could it arise from any other circumstance that
Cicero, Pliny, and Quintilian, express themselves upon the Greek artists
in the same manner. Their opinions coincide, because[Pg
xxxvii] that of the public was unanimous. I am aware that it
is difficult to obtain the opinion of the public concerning the more
modern artists, but it is not difficult with regard to those on whom
much has been already written. I am also aware that public opinion
accords not at all times with truth, because “it often happens to
incline to the wrong side of the question.” This, however, is a rare
occurrence in the fine arts,[22]
nor does it militate against an historian who aims more at fidelity of
narrative, and impartiality of public opinion, than the discussion of
the relative merit or correctness of tastes.

My work is divided into six volumes; and I commence by treating in
the two first volumes of that part of Italy, which, through the genius
of Da Vinci, Michelangiolo, and Raffaello, became first conspicuous, and
first exhibited a decided character in painting. Those artists were the
ornaments of the Florentine and Roman schools, from which I proceed to
two others, the Sienese and Neapolitan. About the same time Giorgione,
Tiziano, and Coreggio, began to flourish in Italy; three artists, who as
much advanced the art of [Pg xxxviii]colouring, as the former
improved design; and of these luminaries of Upper Italy I treat in the
third and fourth volumes; since the number of the names of artists, and
the many additions to this new impression, have induced me to devote two
volumes to their merits. Then follows the school of Bologna, in which
the attempt was made to unite the excellences of all the other schools:
this commences the fifth volume; and on account of proximity it is
succeeded by that of Ferrara, and Upper and Lower Romagna. The school of
Genoa, which was late in acquiring celebrity, succeeds, and we conclude
with that of Piedmont, which, though it cannot boast so long a
succession of artists as those of the other states, has merits
sufficient to entitle it to a place in a history of painting. Thus the
five most celebrated schools will be treated of in the order in which
they arose; in like manner as the ancient writers on painting began with
the Asiatic school, which was followed by the Grecian, and this last was
subdivided into the Attic and Sicyonian; to which in process of time
succeeded the Roman school.[23] The sixth and last volume
contains an ample index to the whole, quite indispensable to render the
work more extensively useful, and to give it its[Pg xxxix] full advantage.
In assigning artists to any school I have paid more regard to other
circumstances than the place of their nativity; to their education,
their style, their place of residence in particular, and the instruction
of their pupils: circumstances, indeed, which are sometimes found so
blended and confused, that several cities may contend for one painter,
as they are said to have done for Homer. In such cases I do not pretend
to decide; the object of my labours being only to trace the vicissitudes
of the art in various places, and to point out those artists who have
exercised an influence over them; not to determine disputes, unpleasant
in themselves, and wholly foreign to my undertaking.

[2]
See Algarotti, Saggio sopra la Pittura, in the chapter Della
critica necessaria al Pittore.

[3]
For this fault, which the Greeks used to call Acribia, Pascoli
has been sharply reproved. He has, in fact, informed us which among the
several artists could boast a becoming and proportionate nose, which had
it short or long, aquiline or snubbed, very sharp or very hollow. He
most generally observes that such an artist was neither tall nor large
of stature, neither handsome nor plain in his physiognomy; and who would
have thought it worth his while to inquire about it? The sole utility
that can possibly attend such inquiries is, the chance of detecting some
impostor, who might attempt to palm upon us for a genuine portrait the
likeness of some other individual. Engravings, however, are the best
security against similar impositions.

[4]
In the Magasin Encyclopédique of Paris, (An. viii. tom. iv. p. 63),
there is a work in two volumes, edited in the German language at
Gottingen, announced as well as commended. The first volume is dated
1798, the second 1801, from the pen of note the learned Sig. Florillo,
the title of which we insert in the second index. It consists of a
history of painting upon the plan of the present one; but there is some
variation in the order of the schools.

[5]
It was finished in the year 1796, and it is now given, with various
additions and corrections throughout. Many churches, galleries, and
pictures, are here mentioned which are no longer in existence; but this
does not interfere with its truth, inasmuch as the title of the work is
confined to the before
mentioned year. Numerous friends have lent me their assistance in
the completion of this edition, and in particular the cavalier Gio. de’
Lazara, a gentleman of Padua, who possesses a rich collection, both in
books and MSS., and displays the utmost liberality in affording others
the use of them. To this merit, in regard to the present work, he has
likewise added that of revising and correcting it through the press, a
favour which I could not have more highly estimated from any other hand,
deeply versed as he is in the history of the fine arts.

[6]
“Ut enim pictores, et qui signa faciunt, et vero etiam poetæ suum
quisque opus à vulgo considerari vult, ut si quid reprehensum sit à
pluribus id corrigatur … sic aliorum judicio permulta nobis et
facienda et non facienda, et mutanda et corrigenda sunt.” Cicero De
Officiis, ii. c. 41.

[7]
Treatise on Painting, tom. ii. p. 166.

[8]
Opere, tom. ii. p. 108.

[9]
A learned Venetian, skilled in the practice of design and of painting.
He must not be confounded with Antonio Maria Zanetti, an eminent
engraver, who revived the art of taking prints from wooden blocks with
more than one colour, which was invented by Ugo da Carpi, but afterwards
lost. He also wrote works, serviceable to the fine arts; and several of
his letters may be seen in the second volume of Lettere
Pittoriche. They are subscribed Antonio Maria Zanetti, q.
Erasmo; but this is an error of the editor: it ought to be q.
Girolamo, to distinguish him from the other, who was called del
q. Alessandro. This mistake was detected by the accurate Vianelli,
in his Diario della Carriera, p. 49.

[10]
An amateur, who happens to be unacquainted with the fact, that there
were various artists of the same name, as the Vecelli, Bassani, and
Caracci, will never become properly acquainted with these families of
painters; neither will he be competent to judge of certain pictures,
which only attract the regard of the vulgar, because they truly boast
the reputation of a great name.

[11]
I do not admit this principle. Horace laid it down for the art of poetry
alone, because it is a faculty that perishes when it ceases to give
delight. Architecture, on the other hand, confers vast utility when it
does not please, by presenting us with habitations; and painting, and
sculpture, by preserving the features of men, and illustrious actions.
Besides, let us recollect, that Horace denounces the production of
inferior verses, because there is not space enough for them; “Non
concessere columnæ,” but it is not so with paintings of mediocrity. In
any country Petrarch, Ariosto, and Tasso, may be read, and he who has
never read a poor poet, will write better than if he had read a hundred.
But it is not every one who can boast either in the houses or temples of
his country, of possessing the works of good artists; and for purposes
of worship or of ornament, the less excellent ones may suffice;
wherefore these also produce some advantage.

[12]
Like one who thinks of some other person than he that is before him.

[13]
For the improvement of my latest edition, I am greatly indebted to the
Prince Filippo Ercolani, who, having purchased from the heirs of Signor
Marcello Oretti fifty-two manuscript volumes, which that indefatigable
amateur, in the course of his studies, journeys, and observations, had
compiled respecting the professors of the fine arts, their eras, and
their labours, allowed materials to be drawn from them for various
notes, by the Sig. Lazara, who superintended the edition. To the devoted
attachment of these gentlemen to the fine arts, the public are indebted
for much information, either wholly new, or hitherto little known.

[14]
Vasari, from whom several epochs are taken, is full of errors in dates,
as may be every where perceived. See Bottari’s note on tom. ii. p. 79.
The same observation applies generally to other authors, as Bottari
remarks in a note on Lettere Pittoriche, tom. iv. p. 366. A
similar objection is made to the Dictionary of P. Orlandi in another
letter, tom. ii. p. 318, where it is termed “a useful work, but so full
of errors, that one can derive no benefit from it without possessing the
books there quoted.” After three editions of this work, a fourth was
printed in Venice, in 1753, corrected and enlarged by Guarienti, “but
enough still remains to be done after his additions, even to increase it
twofold.” Bottari, Lett. Pitt. tom. iii. p. 353. See also Crespi Vite
de’ Pittori Bolognesi, p. 50. No one, who has not perused this book,
would believe how often he defaces Orlandi in presuming to correct him;
multiplying artists for every little difference with which authors wrote
the name of the same man. Thus Pier Antonio Torre, and Antonio Torri,
are with him two different men. Many of the articles, however, added by
him, relating to artists unknown to P. Orlandi, are useful; so that this
second Dictionary ought to be consulted with caution, not altogether
rejected. The last edition, printed at Florence, in two volumes,
contains the names of many painters, either lately dead, or still
living, and often of very inferior merit, and on this account is little
noticed in my history. This Dictionary, moreover, affords little
satisfaction to the reader concerning the old masters, unless he possess
a work printed at Florence in twelve volumes, entitled Serie degli
Uomini più illustri in Pittura, to which the articles in it often
refer. The Dizionario Portatile, by Mr. La Combe, is also a book of
reference, not very valuable to those who look for exact information. We
give a single instance of his inaccuracy in regard to the elder Palma;
but our emendations have been chiefly directed towards the writers of
Italy, from whom foreigners have, or ought to have borrowed, in writing
respecting our artists.

[15]
See Mr. Richardson’s Treatise on Painting, tom. ii. p. 58; and M.
D’Argenville’s Abrégé de la Vie des plus fameux Peintres, tom. i.
p. 65.

[16]
“Some made use of pure colours, without blending one with the other; a
practice well understood in the age of Titiano: others, as Coreggio,
adopted a method totally opposite: he laid on his admirable colours in
such a manner, that they appear as if they had been breathed without
effort on the canvas; so soft and so clear, without harshness of
outline, and so relieved, that he seems the rival of nature. The elder
Palma and Lorenzo Lotto coloured freshly, and finished their pictures as
highly as Giovanni Bellini; but they have loaded and overwhelmed them
with outline and softness in the style of Titiano and Giorgione. Some
others, as Tintoretto, to a purity of colour not inferior to the artists
above mentioned, have
added a boldness as grand as it is astonishing;” &c. Baldinucci,
Lett. Pittor. tom. ii. lett. 126.

[17]
See Baldinucci in Lett. Pittor. tom. ii. lett. 126, and one by
Crespi, tom. iv. lett. 162.

[18]
We must recollect that “de pictore, sculptore, fusore, judicare nisi
artifex non potest,” (Plin. Jun. i. epist. 10); which must be understood
of certain refinements of the art that may escape the eye of the most
learned connoisseur. But have we any need of a painter to whisper in our
ear whether the features of a figure are handsome or ugly, its colouring
false or natural, whether it has harmony and expression, or whether its
composition be in the Roman or Venetian taste? And where it is really
expedient to have the opinion of an artist, which we therefore report as
we have either read it or heard it, will that opinion have less
authority in my pages than on his own tongue?

[19]
Abundance of quotations, and descriptions of the minutest particulars
from rarer works is a characteristic of the present day, to which I
think I have sufficiently conformed in my second Index. But in a history
expressly composed to instruct and please, I have judged it right not to
interrupt the thread of the narrative too frequently with different
authorities. The works from which I draw my account of each artist are
indicated in the body of the history and in the first index: to make
continual allusion to them might please a few, but would prove very
disagreeable to many.

[20]
Pietro da Cortona told Falconieri that when the celebrated picture of S.
Girolamo della Carità was exhibited, “it was so abused by all the
eminent painters, of whom many then flourished, that he himself joined
in its condemnation, in order to save his credit.” See Falconieri, Lett.
Pittor. tom. ii. lett. 17. He continues: “Is not the tribune of the
church of S. Andrea della Valle, ornamented by Domenichino, among the
finest specimens of painting in fresco? and yet they talked of sending
masons with hammers to knock it down after he had displayed it. When
Domenichino afterwards passed through the church, he stopped with his
scholars to view it; and, shrugging up his shoulders, observed, ‘After
all, I do not think the picture so badly executed.'”

[21]
The most singular and novel opinions concerning our painters are
contained in the volumes published by M. Cochin, who is confuted in the
Guides to the cities of Padua and Parma, and is often convicted
of erroneous statements in matter of fact. He is reproved, with regard
to Bologna, by Crespi, in Lett. Pittor. tom. vii.; and for what he has
said of Genoa, by Ratti, in the lives of the painters of that city.
Commencing with his preface, they point out the grossest errors in
Cochin. It is there also observed that his work was disapproved of by
Watellet, by Clerisseau, and other French connoisseurs then living: nor
do I believe it would have pleased Filibien, De Piles, and such masters
of the critical art. Italy also, at a later period, has produced a book,
which aims at overturning the received opinions on subjects connected
with the fine arts. It is entitled Arte di vedere secondo i principii
di Sulzer e di Mengs. The author, who in certain periodical works at
Rome, was called the modern Diogenes, has been honoured with various
confutations. (See Lettera in Difesa del Cav. Ratti, p. 11.)
Authors like these launch their extravagant opinions, for the purpose of
attracting the gaze of the world; but men of letters, if they cannot
pass them over in silence, ought not to be very anxious to gratify their
wishes—”Opinionum commenta delet dies.” Cicero.

[22]
Of Apelles himself Pliny observes, “Vulgum diligentiorem judicem quam se
præferens.” Examine also Carlo Dati in Vite de’ Pittori Antichi,
p. 99, where he proves, by authority and examples, that judgment, in the
imitative arts, is not confined to the learned. See also Junius, De
Pictura Veterum, lib. i. cap. 5.

[23]
See Mons. Agucchi, in a fragment preserved by Bellori, in Vite de’
Pittori, Scultori, e Architetti moderni, p. 190.

[Pg xl]

[Pg
xli]

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE.
[24]

Luigi Lanzi was born in the year 1732, at Monte dell’
Olmo, in the diocese of Fermo, of an ancient family, which is said to
have enjoyed some of the chief honours of the municipality to which it
belonged. His father was a physician, and also a man of letters: his
mother, a truly excellent and pious woman, was allied to the family of
the Firmani. How deeply sensible the subject of this memoir was of the
advantages he derived, in common with many illustrious characters, from
early maternal precepts and direction, he has shewn in a beautiful Latin
elegy to her memory, which appeared in his work, entitled
Inscriptionum et Carminum.

Possessed of a naturally lively and penetrating turn of mind, he
began early to investigate the [Pg xlii]merits of the great writers of his
own country; alike in poetry, in history, and in art. His poetical taste
was formed on the models of Petrarch and of Dante, and he was
accustomed, while yet a child, to repeat their finest passages to his
father, an enthusiastic admirer of Italy’s old poets, who took pride in
cultivating the same fervour in the mind of his son, a fervour of which
in more northern climates, we can form little idea. His imitations of
these early poets, whose spirit he first imbibed at the fountain head,
before he grew familiar with the corrupt and tasteless compositions of
succeeding eras, are said to have frequently been so bold and striking,
as to deceive the paternal eye. To these, too, he was perhaps mainly
indebted for that energy of feeling, and solidity of judgment, as well
as that richness of illustration and allusion, which confer attractions
upon his most serious and elaborate works. He was no less intimate with
the best political and literary historians at an early age; with
Machiavelli, Davila, and Guicciardini; with Muratori and Tiraboschi;
whose respective compositions he was destined to rival in the world of
art.

Lanzi’s first studies were pursued in the Jesuits’ College at Fermo,
where an Italian Canzone, written in praise of the Beata Vergine, is
said to have acquired for him, as a youth of great promise, the highest
degree of regard. Under the care of his spiritual instructor, father
Raimondo Cunich, Lanzi likewise became deeply versed in all the
excellences[Pg xliii] of classical literature, not as a
vain parade of words and syllables; for along with the technical skill
of the scholar, he imbibed the spirit of the ancient writers. In his
succeeding philosophical and mathematical studies he was assisted by
Father Boscovich, one of the first mathematicians of his day. Thus to a
keen and fertile intellect, animated by enthusiasm for true poetry and
the beauties of art, was added that regular classical and scientific
learning, inducing a love of order and of truth, capable of applying the
clear logic derived from Euclid to advantage, in subjects of a less
tangible and demonstrative nature. The value of such preliminary
acquirements to the examination of antiquarian and scientific remains,
which can only be conducted on uncertain data and a calculation of
possibilities, as in ancient specimens of art, can bear no question; and
of this truth Lanzi was fully aware. To feel rightly, to reason clearly,
to decide upon probabilities, to distinguish degrees, resemblances, and
differences, comparing and weighing the whole with persevering accuracy;
these were among the essentials which Lanzi conceived requisite to
prepare a writer upon works of art.

These qualities, too, will be found finely relieved and elevated by
frequent and appropriate passages of eloquent feeling; flowing from that
sincere veneration for his subject, and that love which may be termed
the religion of the art to which he became so early attached. How
intimately [Pg
xliv]such a spirit is connected with the best triumphs of the
art of painting, is seen in the angelic faces of Da Vinci, of Raffaello,
and Coreggio; and the same enthusiasm must have been felt by a true
critic, such as Lanzi. Far, however, from impeding him in the
acquisition of his stores of antiquarian knowledge, and in his
scientific arrangements, his enthusiasm conferred upon him only an
incredible degree of diligence and despatch. He was at once enabled to
decipher the age and character, to arrange in its proper class, and to
give the most exact description of every object of art which passed
under his review.

Lanzi thus came admirably prepared to his great task, one of the most
complete models of sound historical composition, of which the modern age
can boast. It was written in the full maturity of his powers; no hasty
or isolated undertaking, it followed a series of other excellent
treatises, all connected with some branches of the subject, and
furnishing materials for his grand design. Circumstances further
contributed to promote his views. Shortly after the dissolution of the
order of Jesuits, to which he belonged, he was recommended by his friend
Fabroni, prior of the church of S. Lorenzo, to the grand duke Leopold of
Florence, who, in 1775, appointed him to the care of his cabinet of
medals and gems, in the gallery of Florence. This gave rise to one of
his first publications, entitled, A Description of the Florentine
Gallery, which he sent in 1782 to the same friend,[Pg xlv]
Angiolo Fabroni, then General Provveditore of the Studio at Pisa, and
who conducted the celebrated Literary Journal of that place, in which
Lanzi’s Description appeared.

His next dissertation, still more enriched with antiquarian
illustration and research, was his Essay on the Ancient Italian
dialects, which contains a curious account of old Etruscan
monuments, and the ducal collection of classical vases and urns. This
was followed by his Preliminary Notices respecting the Sculpture of
the Ancients, and their various Styles, put forth in the year 1789,
in which he pursues the same plan which he subsequently perfected in the
history before us, of allotting to each style its respective epochs, to
each epoch its peculiar characters, these last being exemplified by
their leading professors, most celebrated in history. He farther adduces
examples of his system as he proceeds, from the various cabinets of the
Royal Museum, which he explains to the reader as a part of his chief
design in illustrating them. He enters largely into the origin and
character of the Etruscan School, and examines very fully the
criticisms, both on ancient and Italian art, by Winckelmann and Mengs.

From the period of these publications, the Grand Duke, entertaining a
high opinion of Lanzi’s judgment, was in the habit of consulting him
before he ventured to add any new specimens to his cabinet of
antiquities. He was also entrusted with a fresh arrangement of some new
cabinets belonging[Pg xlvi] to the gallery, which together with
the latter, he finally completed, on a system which it is said never
fails to awaken the admiration of all scientific visitors at Florence.
During this task, his attention had been particularly directed to the
interpretation of the monuments and Etruscan inscriptions contained in
the ducal gallery, which, together with the ancient Tuscan, the Umbrian,
and other obsolete dialects, soon grew familiar to him, and led to the
composition of his celebrated Essay upon the Tuscan Tongue. For
the purpose of more complete research and illustration, he obtained
permission from the duke to visit Rome, in order to consult the museums,
and prepare the way for his essay, which he published there in 1789; a
work of immense erudition and research.

It was here Lanzi first appeared as the most profound antiquarian of
modern Italy, by his successful explanation of some ancient Etruscan
inscriptions and remains of art, which had baffled the skill of a number
of his most distinguished countrymen. Upon presenting it to the grand
duke, after his return from Rome, Lanzi was immediately appointed his
head antiquary and director of the Florentine gallery; while the city of
Gubbio raised him to the rank of their first patrician order, on account
of his successful elucidation of the famous Eugubine Tables. In one of
his Dissertations upon a small Tuscan Urn, he triumphantly
refuted some charges which had been invidiously advanced against him,
and defended his[Pg xlvii] principles of antiquarian
illustration by retorting the charge of fallacy upon his
adversaries.

In the year 1790, Lanzi, at
the request of the Gonfaloniere and priors of Monte dell’Olino,
published an inquiry into the Condition and Site of Pausula, an
ancient City of Piceno; said to be written with surprising
ingenuity, yet with equal fairness; uninfluenced by any prejudices
arising from national partiality, or from the nature of the commission
with which he had been honoured. This was speedily followed by a much
more important undertaking, connected with the prosecution of his great
design, which it would appear he had already for some time
entertained.

During the period of his travels through Italy in pursuit of
antiquities, he had carefully collected materials for a general History
of Painting, which was meant to comprize, in a compendious form,
whatever should be found scattered throughout the numerous authors who
had written upon the art. These materials, as well as the work itself,
had gradually grown upon his hands, as might be expected from a man so
long accustomed to method, to criticism, to perspicuity; in short, to
every quality requisite in the philosophical treatment of a great
subject. The artists and literati of Italy, then, were not a little
surprised at the appearance of the first portion of the Storia
Pittorica, comprehending Lower Italy; or the Florentine, Sienese,
Roman, and Neapolitan Schools, reduced to a compendious and methodical
form,[Pg xlviii] adapted to facilitate a
knowledge of Professors and of their Styles, for the lovers of the
art. It was dedicated to the grand duchess Louisa Maria of Bourbon,
in a style, observes the Cav. Bossi, “which recalls to mind the letters
of Pliny to Trajan, composed with mingled dignity and respect; with
genuine feeling, and with true, not imaginary, commendations.”
Elogio, p. 127.

But the unfeigned pleasure and admiration expressed in the world of
literature and art, on being presented with the Pictorial History of
Lower Italy, was almost equalled by its disappointment at the delay
experienced with regard to the appearance of the second part; and which
it was feared would never see the light. Lanzi’s state of health had,
some time subsequent to 1790, been very precarious; and he suffered
severely from a distressing complaint,[25]
which frequently interrupted his travels in which he was then engaged,
collecting further materials for his History of Painting in Upper Italy.
While thus employed, on his return from Genoa in December, 1793, he
experienced a first attack of apoplexy, as he was passing the mountains
of Massa and Carrara. After his recovery, and return to Florence, he was
advised in the ensuing spring to visit the baths of Albano, which being
situated near Bassano, afforded him an opportunity of superintending the
publication of his history, in the Remondini [Pg xlix]Press, and on a more
extensive scale than he had at first contemplated. He likewise obtained
permission from the grand duke Leopold to absent himself, during some
time, from his charge at Florence, in September, 1793. The first portion
of his labours he conceived to be too scanty in point of names and
notices to satisfy public taste, so that upon completing the latter part
upon a more full and extensive scale, he gave a new edition of that
already published, very considerably altered and augmented.

To these improvements he invariably contributed, both in notes and
text, at every subsequent edition, a number of which appeared in the
course of a few years, until the work attained a degree of completeness
and correctness seldom bestowed upon labours of such incredible
difficulty and extent. The last which received the correction and
additions of the author was published at Bassano, in the year 1809.

That a work upon such a scale was a great desideratum, no less to
Italy than to the general world of art, would appear evident from the
character of the various histories and accounts of painting which had
preceded it. They are rather valuable as records, than as real criticism
or history; as annals of particular characters and productions derived
from contemporary observation, than as sound and enlightened views, and
a dispassionate estimate of individual merits. Full of errors, idle
prejudices, and discussions foreign to the subject, a [Pg l]large
portion of their pages is taken up in vapid conceits, personal
accusations, and puerile reasoning, destitute of method.

The work of Lanzi, on the other hand, as it is well remarked by the
Cav. Boni, observes throughout the precept of the serie et
junctura of Horace. It brings into full light the leading professors
of the art, exhibits at due distance those of the second class, and only
glances at mediocrity and inferiority of character, insomuch as to fill
up the great pictoric canvas with its just lights and shades. The true
causes of the decline and revival of the art at certain epochs are
pointed out, with those that contribute to preserve the fine arts in
their happiest lustre; in which, recourse to examples more than to
precepts is strongly recommended. The best rules are unfolded for
facilitating the study of different manners, some of which are known to
bear a resemblance, though by different hands, and others are opposed to
each other, although adopted by the same artist; a species of knowledge
highly useful at a period when the best productions are eagerly sought
after at a high rate. It is a history, in short, worthy of being placed
at the side of that on the Literature of Italy by Tiraboschi, who having
touched upon the fine arts at the outset of his labours, often urged his
ancient friend and colleague to dilate upon a subject in every way so
flattering to the genius of Italy; to Italy which, however rivalled by
other nations in science and in literature, [Pg li]stands triumphant and
alone in its creative mind of art.

It is, however, difficult to convey a just idea of a work composed
upon so enlarged and complete a scale; which embraces a period of about
six centuries, and fourteen Italian schools, but treated with such
rapidity and precision, as to form in itself a compendium of whatever we
meet with in so many volumes of guides, catalogues, descriptions of
churches and palaces, and in so many lives of artists throughout the
whole of Italy. (pp. 130-1.)

It is known that Richardson expressed a wish that some historian
would collect these scattered accounts relating to the art of painting,
at the same time noting down its progress and decline in every age, a
desideratum which Mengs in part supplied in one of his letters, briefly
marking down all the respective eras. Upon this plan, as far as regarded
Venetian painting, Zanetti had partially proceeded; but the general
survey, in its perfect form, of the whole of the other schools, was
destined to be completed by the genius of Lanzi. Here he first gives the
general character of each, distinguishing its particular epochs,
according to the alterations in taste which it underwent. A few artists
of distinguished reputation, whose influence gave a new impulse and new
laws to the art, stand at the head of each era, which they may be said
to have produced, with a full description of their style. To these great
masters, their respective pupils are annexed, with the progress of their
[Pg
lii]school, referring to such as may have more or less added
to, or altered the manner of their prototype. For the sake of greater
perspicuity, the painters of history are kept distinct from the artists
in inferior branches; among whom are classed portrait and landscape
painters, those of animals, of flowers, of fruits, &c. Nor are such
as bear an affinity to the art, like engraving, inlaying, mosaic work,
and embroidery, wholly excluded. Being doubtful whether he should make
mention of those artists who belong neither to the senatorial, the
equestrian, nor the popular order of the pictorial republic, and have no
public representation, such as the names of mediocrity; Lanzi finally
decided to introduce them among their superiors, like third-rate actors,
whose figures may just be seen, in order to preserve the entireness of
the story. To this he was farther induced by the general appearance of
their names in the various dictionaries, guides, and descriptions of
cities and of galleries; and by the example of Homer, Cicero, and most
great writers; Homer himself commemorating, along with the wise and
brave also the less valiant—the fools and the cowards.
(Elogio, pp. 129, 130, 131.)

After having resided during a considerable period at Bassano,
occupied in the superintendence of the first edition of his great work,
Lanzi found himself compelled to retire to Udine, in 1796, from the more
immediate scene of war; a war which subsequently involved other cities
of Italy [Pg
liii]in its career. From Udine he shortly returned to
Florence, where he again resumed his former avocations in the ducal
gallery, about the period of the commencement of the Bourbon
government.

Lanzi’s next literary undertaking was three Dissertations upon
Ancient painted Vases, commonly called Etruscan; and he
subsequently published a very excellent and pleasing work, entitled,
Aloisii Lanzii Inscriptionum et Carminum Libri Tres: works which
obtained for him the favourable notice of the Bourbon court. Nor was he
less distinguished by that of the new French dynasty, which shortly
obtained the ascendancy throughout all Italy, as well as at Florence,
and by which Lanzi was appointed President of the Cruscan Academy.

Among Lanzi’s latest productions may be classed his edition and
translations of Hesiod; entitled I Lavori, e le Giornate di Esiodo
Ascreo opera con L. Codici riscontrata, emendata la versione latina,
aggiuntavi l’Italiana in Terze Rime con annotazioni. In this he had
been engaged as far back as the year 1785, and it had been then
announced in a beautiful edition of Hesiod, translated into Latin by
Count Zamagua.

The list will here close with his Opere Sacre, sacred
treatises, produced on a variety of occasions, and on a variety of
spiritual subjects. One of these was upon the Holy Sacrament, entitled,
Il divoto del SS. Sacramento istruito nella pratica [Pg
liv]di tal devozione. In truth, Lanzi was a good Christian, and may be
ranked in the number of that great and honoured band of Christian
philosophers, who like Newton, Locke, and Paley, have triumphantly
opposed the whole strength of their mighty intellect, and vast reach of
their reasoning powers to the specious and witty, but less powerful and
argumentative genius of Gibbon, of Hume, and of Voltaire. Nor was the
conviction of these great truths in the mind of Lanzi the result of
sickness and misfortunes, or sombre reflections in the decline of life.
Great as was the reputation he had acquired by his valuable labours, he
was often known sincerely to declare, among his private friends, that he
would willingly renounce all kind of literary honours for the pleasure
of being assured, that his sacred works had in any degree promoted the
cause of Christianity.

Shortly after the last edition of the History now before us, which he
had personally superintended, though at a very advanced age, in the year
1809, at Bassano, Lanzi’s health began rapidly to decline, and he
prepared with perfect composure to meet the termination of his earthly
career. He had already attained his seventy-eighth year; but his mind
preserved its usual tone and vigour, though he could with difficulty
pace his apartment. He wrote letters, and even pursued his beloved
studies on the day of his decease, which took place on Sunday, the 30th
of March, 1810, occasioned by a fresh attack of apoplexy. [Pg lv]For
this he had long been prepared, and only the preceding evening had taken
an affectionate leave of his friends and domestics, thanking the Cav.
Boni for his kindness in continuing so long to mount his staircase to
visit an old man.

[24]
It may be proper to observe, that the materials of the biographical
sketch here offered to the public, are extracted from an extremely
pleasing and popular tribute to the memory of Lanzi, of very general
repute in Italy, from the pen of his intimate friend and associate, the
Cavalier Bossi, himself a man of singular merit and acquirements, whose
Elogio upon his distinguished countryman has deservedly been
added to the recent editions of his invaluable history.

[25]
Repeated attacks of strangury which often threatened his life, unless he
obtained instant relief.

[Pg
lvi]
[Pg
1]

HISTORY OF PAINTING

IN

LOWER ITALY.

BOOK I.

FLORENTINE SCHOOL.

EPOCH I.

SECT. I.

That there were painters in Italy, even during the rude
ages, is attested not only by historians,[26]
but by several pictures which have escaped the ravages of time; Rome
retains several ancient specimens.[27]
Passing over her cemeteries, which have handed down to us a number of
Christian monuments, part in specimens of painted glass, [Pg
2]scattered through our museums, and part in those of
parietal histories, or walled mosaic, it will be sufficient to adduce
two vast works, unrivalled by any others, that I know of, in Italy. The
first is the series of the Popes, which in order to prove the succession
of the papal chair, from the prince of the Apostles down to the time of
St. Leo, this last holy pontiff caused to be painted; a work of the
fifth century, which was subsequently continued until our own times. The
second is the decoration of the whole church of San Urbano, where there
are several evangelical acts represented on the walls, along with some
histories of the Titular Saint and St. Cecilia, a production which,
partaking in nothing either of the Greek lineaments or style of drapery,
may be attributed more justly to an Italian pencil, which has subscribed
the date of 1011.[28] Many more might be pointed
out, existing in different cities; as for instance the picture at
Pesara, of the patron saints of the city, illustrated by the celebrated
Annibale Olivieri, which is earlier than the year 1000; those in the
vaults of the cathedral at Aquileja,[29]
the picture [Pg
3]at Santa Maria Primerana at Fiesole, which seems the work
of that or the succeeding age;[30]
and the picture at Orvieto which was formerly known by the name of S.
Maria Prisca, but is now generally called S. Brizio.[31] I say nothing of the figures of the virgin
formerly ascribed to St. Luke, and now supposed to be the production of
the eleventh or twelfth century, as I shall have to treat of them at the
opening of the third book. The painters of those times were, however, of
little repute; they produced no illustrious scholars, no work worthy of
marking an era. The art had gradually degenerated into a kind of
mechanism, which, after the models afforded by the Greek workers in
mosaic employed in the church of St. Mark, at Venice,[32] invariably exhibited the same legends, in
which nature appeared distorted rather than represented. It was not till
after the middle of the thirteenth century that any thing better was
attempted; and the improvement of sculpture was the first step towards
the formation of a new style.

[Pg
4]The honour of this is due to the Tuscans; a nation that
from very remote antiquity disseminated the benign light of art and
learning throughout Italy; but it more especially belongs to the people
of Pisa. They taught artists how to shake off the trammels of the modern
Greeks, and to adopt the ancients for their models. Barbarism had not
only overwhelmed the arts, but even the maxims necessary for their
re-establishment. Italy was not destitute of fine specimens of Grecian
and Roman sculpture; but she had long been without an artist who could
appreciate their value, much less attempt to imitate them. Little else
was executed in those dark ages but some rude pieces of sculpture, such
as what remains in the cathedral of Modena, in San Donato at Arezzo, in
the Primaziale at Pisa,[33] and in some other churches
where specimens are preserved on the doors or in [Pg 5]the
interior. Niccola Pisano was the first who discovered and pursued the
true path. There were, and still are, some ancient sarcophagi in Pisa,
especially that which inclosed the body of Beatrice, mother of the
Countess Matilda, who died in the eleventh century. A chase, supposed to
represent that of Hippolytus, is sculptured on it in basso relievo,
which must be the production of a good school; being a subject which has
been often delineated by the ancients on many urns still extant at
Rome.[34] This was the model which Niccola selected,
from this he formed a style which participated of the antique,
especially in the heads and the casting of the drapery; and when
exhibited in different Italian cities “it inspired artists with a
laudable emulation to apply to sculpture more assiduously than they had
before done,” as we are informed by Vasari. Niccola did not attain to
what he aspired. The compositions are sometimes crowded, the figures are
often badly designed, and shew more diligence than expression. His name,
however, will always mark an era in the [Pg 6]history of design,
because he first led artists into the true path by the introduction of a
better standard. Reform in any branch of study invariably depends on
some rule, which, promulgated and adopted by the schools, gradually
produces a general revolution in opinion, and opens a new field to the
exertions of a succeeding age.

About 1231, he sculptured at Bologna the urn of San Domenico, and
from this, as a remarkable event, he was named “Niccola of the
Urn.” He afterwards executed in a much superior style, the Last
Judgment, for the cathedral of Orvieto, and the pulpit in the church of
San Giovanni, at Pisa; works that demonstrate to the world that design,
invention, and composition, received from him a new existence. He was
succeeded by Arnolfo Florentino, his scholar, the sculptor of the tomb
of Boniface VIII. in San Pietro at Rome; and by his son Giovanni, who
executed the monuments of Urban IV. and of Benedict IX. in Perugia. He
afterwards completed the great altar of San Donato, at Arezzo, the cost
of which was thirty thousand gold florins; besides many other works
which remain in Naples and in several cities of Tuscany. Andrea Pisano
was his associate, and probably also his disciple in Perugia, who, after
establishing himself in Florence, ornamented with statues the cathedral
and the church of San Giovanni in that city; and in twenty-two years
finished the great gate of bronze “to which we are indebted for all that
is excellent, difficult, [Pg 7]or beautiful in the other two, which are
the workmanship of succeeding artists.” He was, in fact, the founder of
that great school that successively produced Orcagna, Donatello, and the
celebrated Ghiberti, who fabricated those gates for the same church,
which Michelagnolo pronounced worthy to form the entrance of Paradise.
After Andrea, we may notice Giovanni Balducci, of Pisa, whose era,
country, and style, all lead us to suppose him one of the same school.
He was an excellent artist, and was employed by Castruccio, Lord of
Lucca, and by Azzone Visconti, Prince of Milan; where he flourished, and
left, among other monuments of his art, the tomb of San Pietro Martire,
at S. Eustorgio, which is so highly praised by Torre, by Lattuada, and
by various other learned illustrators of Milanese antiquities.[35] Two eminent artists, natives of Siena,
proceeded from the school of Gio. Pisano, namely, the two brothers,
Agnolo and Agostino, who are greatly commended by Vasari as improvers of
the art. Whoever has seen the sepulchre of Guido, bishop of Arezzo,
which is decorated with an infinity of statues and [Pg 8]basso-relievos,
representing passages of his life, will not only find reason to admire
in them the design, which was the work of Giotto, but the execution of
the sculpture. The brothers also executed many of their own designs in
Orvieto, in Siena, and in Lombardy, where they brought up several
pupils, who for a long period pursued their manner, and diffused it over
Italy.

To the improvement of sculpture succeeded that of mosaic, through the
efforts of another Tuscan, belonging to the order of minor friars, named
Fra Jacopo, or Fra Mino da Turrita, from a place in the territory of
Siena. It is not known whether he was instructed in his art by the
Romans or by the Greek workers in mosaic,[36]
but it is well ascertained that he very far surpassed them. On examining
what remains of his works in Santa Maria Maggiore at Rome, one can
hardly be persuaded that it is the production of so rude an age, did not
history constrain us to believe it. It appears probable that he took the
ancients for his models, and deduced his rules from the more chaste
[Pg
9]specimens of mosaic, still remaining in several of the
Roman churches, the design of which is less crude, the attitudes less
forced, and the composition more skilful, than were exhibited by the
Greeks who ornamented the church of San Marco, at Venice. Mino surpassed
them in every thing. From 1225, when he executed, however feebly, the
mosaic of the tribune of the church of San Giovanni, at Florence, he was
considered at the head of the living artists in mosaic.[37] He merited this praise much more by his works
at Rome, and it appears that he long maintained his reputation. Vasari
has not been sufficiently just to the fame of Turrita, in noticing him
only casually in the life of Tafi, but the verses he recites, and the
commissions he mentions, demonstrate how greatly Turrita was esteemed by
his contemporaries. It is maintained that he was also a painter, but
this is a mistake which will be cleared up in the Sienese school, and
both there and elsewhere I shall question the authority of any author
who either greatly commends or underrates him.

From a deficiency of specimens, like those above recorded,
painting long remained in a more rude state than mosaic, and was very
far behind sculpture. But we must not imagine, that at the birth of
Cimabue, in 1240, the race of artists was entirely extinct, as
erroneously asserted by Vasari: [Pg 10]this must be deemed an exaggeration, for
he himself has recounted several sculptors, architects, and painters
then living; and the general scope of his less cautious expressions,
against which so many writers have inveighed, and still continue to
declaim, favours this opinion. I shall be constrained to advert, in
almost every book, to their accusations, and to produce the names of the
artists who then lived. I shall commence with those who then flourished
in Tuscany. The city of Pisa, at this time, had not only painters, but a
school for each of the fine arts[38].
The distinguished Signor Morrona, who has illustrated the Pisan
antiquities, deduces its origin immediately from Greece. The Pisans,
already very powerful by sea and land, having resolved in 1063 to erect
the vast fabric of their cathedral, had drawn thither artists in
miniature, and other painters, at the same time with Buschetto the
architect, and these men educated pupils for the city. The Greeks at
that time were but ill qualified to instruct, for they knew little.
Their first pupils in Pisa seem to have been a few anonymous artists,
some of whose miniatures and rude paintings are still in existence. A
parchment, containing the exultet, as usually sung on Sabbato
Santo, is in the cathedral, and we may here and there observe, painted
on it, figures in miniature, with plants and animals: it is a relique of
the early part of the twelfth century, yet a specimen of art not
altogether barbarous. There are likewise some [Pg 11]other paintings of that
century in the same cathedral, containing figures of our Lady, with the
holy infant on her right arm: they are rude, but the progress of the
same school may be traced from them to the time of Giunta. This artist
lately received a fine eulogium, among other illustrious Pisans, from
Signor Tempesta, and he was fully entitled to it from the more early
historians. His country possesses none of his undoubted pictures, except
a crucifixion with his name, which is believed to be among his earliest
productions, a print from which may be found in the third volume of
Pisa Illustrata. He executed better pictures in Assisi, where he
was invited to paint by Frat’ Elia di Cortona, superior of the Minori,
about the year 1230. From thence we are furnished with notices of his
education, which is thus described by P. Angeli, the Historian of that
cathedral: “Juncta Pisanus ruditer à Græcis instructus, primus ex
Italis, artem apprehendit circa An. Sal. 1210.” In the church of the
Angioli there is a better preserved work of the same master; it is a
crucifixion, painted on a wooden cross; on the lateral edges and upper
surface of which our Lady is represented, with two other half-length
figures, and underneath the remains of an inscription are legible, which
having copied on the spot, I do not hesitate to publish with its
deficiencies now supplied:

[Pg
12]I supply Juntini, because Signor da Morrona
asserts,[39] that about this time, a
Giunta da Giuntino is mentioned in the records of Pisa, whom by
the aid of the Assisi inscription, I conjecture to be the painter
we have now under notice. The figures are considerably less than life;
the design is dry, the fingers excessively long, but these are vitia
non hominum sed temporum; in short, this piece shews a knowledge of
the naked figure, an expression of pain in the heads, and a disposition
of the drapery, greatly superior to the efforts of the Greeks, his
contemporaries. The handling of his colours is strong, although the
flesh inclines to that of bronze; the local tints are judiciously
varied, the chiaroscuro even shews some art, and the whole is not
inferior, except in the proportions, to crucifixions with similar half
figures usually ascribed to Cimabue. He painted at Assisi another
crucifixion, which is now lost, to which may be added, a portrait of
Frat’ Elia, with this inscription, “F. Helias fecit fieri. Jesu
Christe pie miserere precantis Heliæ. Juncta Pisanus me pinxit, An. D.
1236. Indit. IX.” The inscription has been preserved by P. Wadingo
in his annals of the Franciscan order for that year, and the historian
describes the crucifixion as affabre pictum. The fresco works of
Giunta were executed in the great church of the Franciscans, and
according to Vasari he was there assisted by certain[Pg 13]
Greeks. Some busts and history pieces still remain in the gallery and
the contiguous chapels, among which is the crucifixion of San Pietro,
noticed in the Etruria Pittrice. Some believe that those
paintings have been here and there injudiciously retouched, and this may
serve to excuse the drawing, which may have been altered in many places,
but the feebleness of the colouring cannot be denied. When they are
compared with what Cimabue executed there about forty years afterwards,
it seems that Giunta was not sufficiently forcible in this species of
painting; perhaps he might have improved, but he is not mentioned after
1235; and it is conjectured that he died while yet a young man, at a
distance from his native country. I am induced to believe so from
observing, that Giunta di Giuntino is noticed in the records of Pisa, in
the early part of that century, but not afterwards; and that Cimabue was
sent for to paint the altar-piece and portrait of San Francesco of Pisa,
about the year 1265, before he went to Assisi. It is more likely that
Giunta would have executed this, had he returned home from that city,
where he had seen and perhaps painted the portrait of the Holy Father.[40]

[Pg
14]From this school the art is believed to have spread in
these early times over all Tuscany, although it must not be forgotten
that there were miniature painters there as well as in the other parts
of Italy, who, transferring their art from small to large works, like
Franco of Bologna, betook themselves, and incited others to painting on
walls and on panel. Whatever we may choose to believe, Siena, at this
period, could boast her Guido, who painted from the year 1221, but not
entirely in the manner of the Greeks, as we shall find under the Sienese
school. Lucca possessed in 1235 one Bonaventura Berlingieri. A San
Francesco painted by him still exists in the castle of Guiglia, not far
from Modena, which is described as a work of great merit for that age.[41] There lived another artist about the year
1288, known by his production of a crucifixion which he left at San
Cerbone, a short distance from the city with this inscription;
“Deodatus filius Orlandi de Luca me pinxit, A. D. 1288.”
Margaritone of Arezzo was a disciple and imitator of the Greeks, and by
all accounts he must have been born several years before Cimabue. He
painted on canvas, and if we may credit Vasari, made the first discovery
of a method of rendering his pictures more durable, and less liable to
cracking. He extended canvas on the panel, laying it down with a strong
[Pg
15]glue, made of shreds of parchment, and covered the whole
with a ground of gypsum, before he began to paint. He formed diadems and
other ornaments of plaster, giving them relief from gilding and
burnishing them. Some of his crucifixions remain in Arezzo, and one of
them is in the church of the Holy Cross at Florence, near another by
Cimabue; both are in the old manner, and not so different in point of
merit, but that Margaritone, however rude, may be pronounced as well
entitled as Cimabue to the name of painter.

While the neighbouring cities had made approaches towards the new
style, Florence, if we are to credit Vasari and his followers, was
without a painter; but subsequent to the year 1250 some Greek painters
were invited to Florence by the rulers of the city, for the express
purpose of restoring the art of painting in Florence, where it was
rather wholly lost than degenerated. To this assertion I have to oppose
the learned dissertation of Doctor Lami, which I have just commended.
Lami observes, that mention is made in the archives of the chapters of
one Bartolommeo who painted in 1236, and that the picture of the
Annunciation of our Lady, which is held in the highest veneration in the
church of the Servi, was painted about that period. It is retouched in
some parts of the drapery; it possesses, however, much originality, and
for that age is respectably executed. When I prepared my first edition I
had no knowledge of the work of Lami, which was not then published,
[Pg
16]and hence was unable to proceed further than to refute the
opinion of those who ascribed this sacred figure to Cavallini, a pupil
of Giotto. I reflected that the style of Cavallini appeared considerably
more modern in his other works which I had examined at Assisi, and at
Florence; yet, various artists whom I consulted, and among others Signor
Pacini, who had copied the Annunciation, disputed with me this diversity
of style. I further adduced the form of the characters written there in
a book, Ecce Virgo concipiet, &c. which resemble those of the
thirteenth century; nor have they that profusion of lines which
distinguishes the German, commonly denominated the Gothic character,
which Cavallini and other pupils of Giotto always employed. I rejoice
that the opinion of Lami confirms my conjecture, and stamps its
authenticity; and it seems to me highly probable that the Bartolommeo,
whom he indicates, is the individual to whom the memorandums of the
Servi ascribe the production of their Annunciation about the year 1250.
The same religious fraternity preserve, among their ancient paintings, a
Magdalen, which appears from the design and inscription, a work of the
thirteenth century; and we might instance several coeval pictures that
still exist in their chapter house, and in other parts of the city.[42]

[Pg
17]Having inserted these notices of ancient painters, and
some others, which will be found scattered throughout the work, I turn
to Vasari, and to the accusations laid to his charge. He is defended by
Monsignor Bottari in a note at the conclusion of the life of
Margaritone, taken from Baldinucci. He affirms, from his own
observation, “That though each city had some painters, they were all as
contemptible and barbarous as Margaritone, who, if compared to Cimabue,
is unworthy of the name of painter.” The examples already cited do not
permit me to assent to this proposition; even Bottari himself will
scarcely allow me to do so, as he observes, in another note on the life
of Cimabue, “That he was the first who abandoned the manner of the
Greeks, or at least who avoided it more completely than any other
artist.” But if others, such as Guido, Bonaventura, and Giunta, had
freed themselves from it before his time, why are they not recorded as
the first, in point of time, by Vasari? Did not their [Pg
18]example open the new path to Cimabue? Did they not afford
a ray of light to reviving art? Were they not in painting what the two
Guidos were in poetry, who, however much surpassed by Dante, are
entitled to the first place in a history of our poets? Vasari would
therefore have acted better had he followed the example of Pliny, who
commences with the rude designers, Ardices of Corinth, and Telephanes of
Sicyon; he then minutely narrates the invention of Cleophantes the
Corinthian, who coloured his designs with burnt earth; next, that of
Eumarus the Athenian, who first represented the distinction of age and
sex. Then comes that of Cimon of Cleonæ, who first expressed the various
attitudes of the head, and aimed at representing the truth, even in the
joints of the fingers and the folds of the garments. Thus, the merits of
each city, and every artist, appear in ancient history; and it seems to
me just, that the same should be done, as far as possible, in modern
history. These observations may, at present, suffice in regard to a
subject that has been made a source of complaint and dispute among many
writers.

Nevertheless it cannot be denied that there is no city to which
painting is more indebted than to Florence, nor any name more proper to
mark an epoch, whatever may be the opinion of Padre della Valle,[43] than that of Cimabue. The artists [Pg 19]whom
I have before mentioned had few followers; their schools, with the
exception of that of Siena, languished, and were either gradually
dispersed, or united themselves to that of Florence. This school in a
short time eclipsed every other, and has continued to flourish in a
proud succession of artists, uninterrupted even down to our own days.
Let us then trace it from its commencement.

Giovanni Cimabue, descended from illustrious ancestors,[44] was both an architect and a painter. That he
was the pupil of Giunta is conjectured in our times, only because the
Greeks were less skilful [Pg 20]than the Italians. It ought to be a
previous question, whether the supposed scholar and master ever resided
in the same place, which it would seem, after the observations before
adduced, can scarcely be admitted.[45] It
appears from history, that he learnt the art from some Greeks who were
invited to Florence, and painted in S. Maria Novella, according to
Vasari. It is an error to assert that they painted in the chapel of the
Gondi, which was built a century after, together with the church; it was
certainly in another chapel, under the church, where those Greek
paintings were covered with plaister, and their place supplied by
others, the work of a painter of the thirteenth century.[46]

Not long since a part of the new plaister fell down, and some of the
very rude figures of those [Pg 21]Greek painters became again visible. It
is probable that Cimabue imitated them in early life, and perhaps at
that time painted the S. Francesco and the little legends which surround
it in the church of S. Croce. But, if I mistake not, it is doubtful who
painted this picture; at least it neither has the manner nor the
colouring of the works of Cimabue, even when young. I may refer to the
S. Cecilia, with the implements of her martyrdom, in the church
dedicated to that Saint, and which was afterwards removed to that of San
Stefano, a picture greatly superior to that of S. Francesco.

However this may be, like other Italians of his age, Giovanni got the
better of his Greek education, which seems to have consisted in one
artist copying another without ever adding any thing to the practice of
his master. He consulted nature, he corrected in part the rectilinear
forms of his design, he gave expression to the heads, he folded the
drapery, and he grouped the figures with much greater art than the
Greeks. His talent did not consist in the graceful. His Madonnas have no
beauty, his angels in the same piece have all the same forms. Wild as
the age in which he lived, he succeeded admirably in heads full of
character, especially in those of old men, impressing an indescribable
degree of bold sublimity, which the moderns have not been able greatly
to surpass. Vast and inventive in conception, he executed large
compositions, and expressed them in grand proportions. His two great
altar-pieces of the Madonna, [Pg 22]at Florence, the one in the church of
the Dominicans, the other in that of the Trinity, with the grand figures
of the prophets, do not give so good an idea of his style as his fresco
paintings in the church of Assisi, where he appears truly magnificent
for the age in which he lived. In these histories of the Old and New
Testament, such as remain, he appears an Ennius, who, amid the rudeness
of Roman epic poetry, gave flashes of genius not displeasing to a
Virgil. Vasari speaks of him with admiration for the vigour of his
colouring, and justly so of the pictures in the ceiling. They are still
in a good state of preservation, and although some of the figures of
Christ, and of the Virgin in particular, retain much of the Greek
manner, others representing the Evangelists, and Doctors instructing the
Monks of the Franciscan Order, from their chairs, exhibit an originality
of conception and arrangement that does not appear in contemporary
works. The colouring is bold, the proportions are gigantic even in the
distance, and not badly preserved; in short, painting may there be said
to have almost advanced beyond what the mosaic worker at first attempted
to do. The whole of these, indeed, are steps in the progress of the
human intellect not to be recounted in one history, and form beyond
question the distinguishing excellence of the Florentine artist, when
put into competition with either the Pisans or the Sienese. Nor do I
perceive how, after the authority of Vasari, who assigns the work of
[Pg
23]the ceiling to Cimabue, confirmed by the tradition of five
centuries, P. della Valle is justified at this day, in ascribing that
painting to Giotto, a painter of a milder genius. If he was induced to
prefer other artists to Cimabue, because they gave the eyes less
fierceness, and the nose a finer shape, these circumstances appear to me
too insignificant to degrade Cimabue from that rank which he enjoys in
impartial history.[47] He has moreover asserted,
that Cimabue neither promoted nor injured the Florentine school by his
productions, a harsh judgment, in the opinion of those who have perused
so many old writers belonging to the city who have celebrated his
merits, and of those who have studied the works of the Florentine
artists before his time, and seen how greatly Cimabue surpasses
them.

If Cimabue was the Michelangiolo of that age, [Pg
24]Giotto was the Raffaello. Painting, in his hands, became
so elegant, that none of his school, nor of any other, till the time of
Masaccio, surpassed, or even equalled him, at least in gracefulness of
manner. Giotto was born in the country, and was bred a shepherd; but he
was likewise born a painter; and continually exercised his genius in
delineating some object or other around him. A sheep which he had drawn
on a flat stone, after nature, attracted the notice of Cimabue, who by
chance passed that way: he demanded leave of his father to take him to
Florence, that he might afford him instruction; confident, that in him,
he was about to raise up a new ornament to the art. Giotto commenced by
imitating his master, but quickly surpassed him. An Annunciation, in the
possession of the Fathers of Badia, is one of his earliest works. The
style is somewhat dry, but shews a grace and diligence, that announced
the improvement we afterwards discern. Through him symmetry became more
chaste, design more pleasing, and colouring softer than before. The
meagre hands, the sharp pointed feet, and staring eyes, remnants of the
Grecian manner, all acquired more correctness under him.

It is not possible to assign the cause of this transition, as we are
able to do in the case of later painters; but it is reasonable to
conclude that it was not wholly produced, even by the almost divine
genius of this artist, unaided by adventitious circumstances. There is
no necessity for sending [Page 25]him, as some have done, to be
instructed at Pisa; his history does not warrant it, and an historian is
not a diviner. Much less ought we to refer him to the school of F.
Jacopo da Turrita, and give him Memmi and Lorenzetti for fellow pupils,
who are not known to have been in Rome when F. Jacopo was distinguished
for his best manner. But P. della Valle thinks he discovers in Giotto’s
first painting, the style and composition of Giunta, (Preface to Vasari,
p. 17,) and in the pictures of Giotto at S. Croce, in Florence, which
“he has meditated upon a hundred times,” he recognizes F. Jacopo,
and finds “reason for opining” that he was the master of Giotto.
(Vide tom. ii. p. 78.) When a person becomes attached to a system, he
often sees and opines what no one else can possibly see or opine. In the
same manner Baldinucci wished to refer to the school of Giotto, one
Duccio da Siena, Vital di Bologna, and many others, as will be noticed;
and he too argues upon a resemblance of style, which, to say truth,
neither I nor any one I know can perceive. If I cannot then agree with
Baldinucci, can I value his imitator? and more particularly as it is no
question here of Vitale, or any other artist of mediocrity, almost
unknown to history, but of Giotto himself. Is it likely, with a genius
such as his, and born in an age not wholly barbarous, with the
advantages enjoyed under Cimabue, especially in point of colouring, that
he would take Giunta for his model, or listen to the instruction of Fra
Mino, in order to excel his [Pg 26]master. Besides, what advantage can be
obtained from thus disturbing the order of chronology, violating
history, and rejecting the tradition of Giotto’s native school, in order
to account for his new style?

It is most probable that, as the great Michelangiolo, by modelling
and studying the antique, quickly surpassed in painting his master,
Ghirlandaio, the same occurred with regard to Giotto. It is at least
known that he was also a sculptor, and that his models were preserved
till the time of Lorenzo Ghiberti. Nor was he without good examples.
There were specimens of antique sculpture at Florence, which may be yet
seen near the cathedral, (not to mention those which he afterwards saw
at Rome); and their merit, then already established by the practice of
Niccola and Giovanni of Pisa, could not be unknown to Giotto, to whom
nature had granted such a taste for the exquisite and the beautiful.
When one contemplates some of his heads of men; some of his forms,
proportioned far beyond the littleness of his contemporaries; his taste
in flowing, natural, and becoming drapery; some of his attitudes after
the manner of the antique, breathing grace and tranquillity, it is
scarce possible to doubt that he derived no small advantage from ancient
sculpture. His very defects discover this. A good writer (the author of
the Guide of Bologna) remarks in him a style which partakes of statuary,
contrary to the practice of contemporary foreign artists; a circumstance
very common, as we shall observe, under [Pg 27]the Roman school, to
those painters who designed from statues. I shall be told that he
probably derived assistance from the sculpture of the two Pisani;
especially as Baldinucci has discovered a strong resemblance between his
style and that of Giovanni, and some others also have noticed the
circular compositions, the proportions and casting of the drapery which
one perceives in the basso-relievos of the early Pisan school. I would not
deny that he also availed himself of them; but it was perhaps in the
manner that Raffaello profited by Michelangiolo, whose example taught
him to imitate the antique. Nor let it be objected to me that the
dryness of the design, the artifice of concealing the feet by long
garments, the inaccuracy of the extremities, and similar defects, betray
rather a Pisan than an Attic origin. This only proves, that when he
became the founder of a style, he did not aim at giving it the
perfection of which it was susceptible, and which it could hardly be
expected to obtain amid the numerous avocations in which he appears to
have been engaged; in short, I cannot persuade myself, that without the
imitation of the antique, he could in so short a time have made such a
progress, as to have been admired even by Bonarruoti himself.[48]

The first histories of the patriarch S. Francesco, at Assisi, near
the paintings of his master, shew how greatly he excelled him. As his
work advanced [Pg
28]he became more correct; and towards the conclusion, he
already manifested a design more varied in the countenances, and
improved in the extremities; the features are more animated, the
attitudes more ingenious, and the landscape more natural. To one who
examines them with attention, the composition appears the most
surprising; a branch of the art, in which he seems not only to surpass
himself, but even sometimes appears unrivalled. In many historical
pictures, he often aimed at ornamenting with buildings, which he painted
of a red, or azure, or a yellow, the colours employed in staining
houses, or of a dazzling white, in imitation of Parian marble. One of
his best pictures in this work is that of a thirsty person, to the
expression of which scarcely any thing could be added by the animating
pencil of Raffaello d’Urbino himself. With similar skill he painted in
the inferior church, and this is perhaps the best performance which has
reached our times, though specimens remain in Ravenna, in Padua, in
Rome, in Florence, and in Pisa. It is assuredly the most spirited of
all, for he has there, with the most poetical images, depicted the saint
shunning vice, and a follower of virtue; it is my opinion that he here
gave the first example of symbolical painting, so familiar to his best
followers.

His inventions, which, according to the custom of the age, were
employed in scripture history, are repeated by him in nearly the same
style in several [Pg 29]places; and are generally most pleasing
when the proportions of the figures are the least. His small pictures of
the Acts of St. Peter and St. Paul, with some representations of our
Saviour, and of various saints, in the sacristy of the Vatican, appear
most elegant and highly finished miniatures; as likewise are some others
in the church of the Holy Cross at Florence, taken from scriptural
history, or from the life of St. Francis. The real art of portrait
painting commenced with him; to whom we are indebted for correct
likenesses of Dante, of Brunetto Latini, and of Corso Donati. It was
indeed before attempted, but, according to Vasari, no one had succeeded.
He also improved the art of working in mosaic; a piece wrought by him in
the Navicella, or ship of St. Peter, may be seen in the portico of that
cathedral; but it has been so much repaired, that now the design is
wholly different, and appears the work of another artist. It is believed
that the art of miniature painting, so much prized in that age for the
ornamenting of missals, received great improvement from him.[49] Architecture undoubtedly did; the [Pg
30]admirable belfry of the cathedral of Florence is the work
of Giotto.

After collecting all the notices he could of the scholars of Cimabue
and Giotto, Baldinucci endeavours to make us believe that all the
benefits which accrued to painting, sculpture, and architecture in
Italy, and even throughout the world, came directly or indirectly from
Florence. The following is the manner in which he expresses himself in
his first pages, with the proofs which he adduces. “During my
researches, I have ascertained beyond all doubt the truth of an opinion
I always considered as indisputable, and which is not controverted by
respectable ancient historians; that these arts in the first place were
restored by Cimabue and Giotto, and afterwards diffused over the world
by their disciples; and I conceived the idea of making it evident by the
help of a tree, which at a glance might shew their progress from the
earliest to the present times.” He published the first small part of
this tree, just as I exhibit it to the reader; and promised in each
succeeding volume to give another part, that would establish the
connexion with [Pg 31]the principal root (Cimabue), or with
the branches derived from it; a promise from which he adroitly delivered
himself; therefore we are without any more than these few branches that
follow:

But with all his pains he has not satisfied the public expectation,
as is observed by Signor Piacenza, who published the splendid Turin
edition of Baldinucci as far as the life of Franciabigio, accompanied
with very useful notes and dissertations.[50] It
is alleged, that to make this tree fair and flourishing, he has inserted
in it branches dexterously stolen from his neighbours, who have not
failed to reclaim their property. I rejoice to write in an age when the
opinions of Baldinucci have few followers even in Florence. The
excellent work entitled “Etruria Pittrice,” composed and
applauded in that city in proportion as it is free from the prejudice of
former times, proves this sufficiently. Following in like manner the
light of history and [Pg 32]of reason, unswayed by party spirit, I
shall in the first place observe, that among all the scholars of
Cimabue, I do not find any named by Vasari, but Giotto and Arnolfo di
Lapo, concerning whom it is certain that the historian was in error.
Lapo and Arnolfo are the names of two different sculptors,
disciples of Niccolò Pisano, who, being already versed in the
art, assisted him in 1266 to adorn with history pieces the pulpit of the
cathedral at Siena, an authentic document of which remains in the
archives of the work.[51] Thus this branch of the
tree belongs to Pisa, unless Cimabue have a claim to it, by contributing
in some degree to the instruction of Arnolfo in the principles of
architecture. Andrea Tafi was the pupil of Apollonius, a Greek artist,
and assisted him in the church of St. John, in some pieces of mosaic,
from scriptural history, which, according to Vasari, are without
invention and without design; but he improved as he proceeded, for the
last part of the work was less despicable than the beginning. Cimabue is
not named in these works, nor in what Tafi afterwards executed without
assistance; and as he was old when Cimabue began to teach, I cannot
conceive how he can be reckoned the scholar of the latter, or a branch
from that root. Gaddo Gaddi, says Vasari, was contemporary with Cimabue,
and was his intimate friend, as well as that of Tafi; through their
friendship he received [Pg 33]hints for his improvement in mosaic. At
first he followed the manner of the Greeks, mingled with that of
Cimabue. After long working in this manner, he went to Rome, and there
improved his style, while employed on the façade of S. Maria Maggiore,
by his own genius, assisted in my opinion by imitating the ancient
workers in mosaic. He also painted some altar-pieces, and I saw at
Florence one of his crucifixions, of a square figure, and very
respectable workmanship. This circumstance induces me to consider Gaddo,
in some measure, among the imitators of Cimabue, but not one of his
pupils; for it appears to me unjust, should a contemporary communicate
with an artist either as a friend, or for the sake of advice on the art,
to set him immediately down as a branch from that stock. Vasari relates
of Ugolino Senese, that he was a tenacious follower of the Greek style,
and inclined more to imitate Cimabue than Giotto. He does not on this
account, indeed, expressly say, that he had been his scholar; he rather
hints that he had other instructors at Siena, for which reason it will
be better to consider him under that school, there being no reason to
doubt that he belonged to it. In that of Bologna we should also class
Oderigo, who, as a miniature painter, was more likely to employ some
other master than a painter in fresco like Cimabue. In the mean time it
is useful to reflect, that were the method of Baldinucci to be pursued,
nothing authentic would remain in a history of painting; and the[Pg 34]
schools of the early masters would increase beyond all limits, were the
scholars of each master to be confounded with his friends,
acquaintances, and contemporaries, who paid attention to his maxims.

It is still more strange to peruse the account of the connexion
between the first and secondary branches of the tree, or if one may use
the expression, between the children and grandchildren of Cimabue. There
is nothing natural in their succession, and the labour is wholly useless
which derives the professors of every fine art, of whatever country,
past, present, and to come, from one individual. F. Ristoro and F. Sisto
were eminent architects, who rebuilt the grand bridges of the Carraja
and the Holy Trinity, about 1264, when Cimabue was twenty-four years of
age. Baldinucci writes of both, that they were, perhaps, disciples or
imitators of Arnolfo, from the state of their works. But how comes he to
found on a perhaps, what he, a little before, had vaunted as a
clear demonstration? And then, on what does this perhaps
rest? Is it not more probable that Arnolfo, and Cimabue himself,
imitated them? That Fra Mino da Turrita should appear in his tree as a
scholar of Tafi, and as posterior to Cimabue, is no less absurd. In
1225, a date omitted by Baldinucci, Mino wrought in mosaic at Florence,
fifteen years before Cimabue was born. In his old age he commenced a
similar work in the cathedral of Pisa, “in the same style in which he
had executed his other labours,” says Vasari, who adds,[Pg 35] that
Tafi and Gaddi (both his inferiors in age and reputation) assisted him.
The work was “little more than begun,” from which we may infer that they
were not long associated. It seems to me extraordinary how Baldinucci
could assert, “it appears that Vasari imagined that Mino was the pupil
of Andrea Tafi,” which is contrary to fact: instead of the “clear
demonstration,” which he promised, he has amused us with “it
appears,” which is evident only to himself. At length, wishing to
make us believe that Giovanni Pisano the sculptor is a pupil of
Giotto the painter, he again turns to Vasari, from whom he brings
evidence that Giovanni, having completed his work in the cathedral of
Arezzo, and being then established at Orvieto, came to Florence to
examine the architecture of S. Maria del Fiore, and to become acquainted
with Giotto: he further notices two pieces which he executed at
Florence, the one a Madonna between two little angels, over the gate of
the cathedral; the other a small baptism of St. John; this happened in
1297. Here Baldinucci hazards a reflection, that “if one compares the
other works of this artist with the above mentioned figure of the Virgin
Mary … we may recognize in it such improvement … and so much of the
manner of Giotto, that there cannot remain a doubt but he is to be
reckoned a disciple of this master, both in respect of his imitation of
him, and his observance of his precepts, which he followed during so
many years in the exercise [Pg 36]of the profession.” Every
attentive reader will discover here not a clear demonstration of the
assumption, but a mass of difficulties. He compares this to the other
figures made by Pisano at Florence, before he was acquainted with
Giotto; and yet this was the first which he there executed. He wishes to
make Giovanni, already sixty years of age, an imitator of Giotto, then
twenty-one, when it is much more probable that Giotto would follow him,
the best sculptor of the age. There is no foundation for the supposed
instruction which Giovanni received from Giotto, who, shortly after,
departed for Rome; where, after some other works, he executed the mosaic
of the boat in 1298. In short, the whole question of
preceptorship rests on no better authority than a single figure. How
great are the inconsistencies in this account, and how absurd the
explanations and repetitions which are offered! What further shall we
say? Is it not lamentable thus to see so many old and honoured artists
compelled, in spite of history, to become pupils to masters so much
younger and less celebrated than themselves? I know that various writers
have censured Baldinucci as an historian of doubtful fidelity, artful in
concealing or misrepresenting facts, captious in expounding the opinions
of Vasari, and more intent on captivating than instructing his readers.
I am not ignorant that his system was controverted even in his own
country, as appears from his work published there, entitled Delle
Veglie; and that Signor Marmi, a learned Florentine, strongly
suspected his [Pg
37]fair dealing, of which we shall adduce a proof under the
Sienese school. Nevertheless I take into account that he wrote in an age
less informed in regard to the history of painting, and that he defended
an opinion then much more common in Italy than at present. He had
promised Cardinal Leopoldo de’ Medici to demonstrate it incontrovertibly
for the honour of his country, and of the house of Medici, and had
received advice and assistance from him in order to encourage him to
defend it, and to refute the contrary opinion. Under the necessity of
answering Malvasia,[52] a severe writer against
Vasari, and of proving his assertion, that the people of Bologna, no
less than those of Siena, of Pisa, and other places, had learned the art
from the Florentines, he formed a false system, the absurdity of which
he did not immediately perceive; but he at last discovered it, as Signor
Piacenza observes, and succeeded in escaping from its trammels. The most
ingenious builders of systems have subjected themselves very frequently
to the same disadvantage, and the history of literature abounds with
similar instances.

Having examined this sophism, I cannot subscribe to the opinion of
Baldinucci; but shall comprise my own opinion in two
propositions:—The[Pg 38] first is, That the improvement of
painting is not due to Florence alone. It has been remarked, that the
career of human genius, in the progress of the fine arts, is the same in
every country. When the man is dissatisfied with what the child learned,
he gradually passes from the ruder elements to what is less so, and from
thence, to diligence and precision; he afterwards advances to the grand,
and the select, and at length attains facility of execution.

Such was the progress of sculpture among the Grecians, and such has
been that of painting in our own country. When Correggio advanced from
laborious minuteness to grandeur, it was not necessary for him to know
that such was the progress of Raffaello, or, at any rate, to have
witnessed it: in like manner, nothing more was wanting to the painters
of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, than to learn that hitherto
they had pursued a wrong path; this was sufficient to guide them into a
better path, and it was not then untried; for sculpture had already
improved design. We have, in fact, seen the Pisani, and their scholars,
preceding the Florentines; and, as their precursors, diffusing a new
system of design over Italy. It would be injustice to overlook them in
the improvement of painting, in which design is of such importance; or
to suppose that they did not signally contribute to its improvement. But
if Italy be indebted solely to Cimabue and Giotto for its progress, all
the good artists should have come from Florence. And yet, in the
cathedral of Orvieto (to instance the [Pg 39]finest work, perhaps, of
that age), we find, from the beginning of the fourteenth century, many
artists from various other places, who would not have been called to
ornament such a building, had they not previously enjoyed the reputation
of able masters.[53] Add to this, if we are to
derive all painters from those two masters, every style of painting
should resemble that of their Florentine disciples. But on examining the
old paintings of Siena, of Venice, of Bologna, and of Parma, they are
found to be dissimilar in idea, in choice of colouring, and in taste of
composition. All, then, are not derived from Florence.

My second proposition is, That no people then excelled in, nor
contributed, by example, so much to the progress of art as the
Florentines. Rival cities may boast artists of merit, even in the first
era of painting; their writers may deny the fame of Giotto and his
disciples; but truth is more powerful than declamation. Giotto was the
father of the new method of painting, as Boccaccio was called the father
of the new species of prose composition. After the time of the latter,
any subject could be elegantly treated of in prose; after the former,
painting could express all subjects with propriety. A Simon da Siena, a
Stefano da Firenze, a Pietro Laurati, added charms to the art; but they
and others owe to Giotto the transition from the old to a new manner. He
essayed it in Tuscany, [Pg 40]and while yet a young man, greatly
improved it, to the general admiration of all classes. He did not leave
Assisi until called to Rome by Boniface VIII., nor did he take up his
residence at Avignon, until invited to France by Clement V. Before going
there, he was induced to stop at Padua, and on returning some years
after, he again resided at the same place. At that time many parts of
Italy were under a republican form of government; but abounded in potent
families, that bore sway in various quarters, and which, while adorning
their country, aimed at its subjugation. Giotto, beyond every other, was
in universal request, both at home and abroad. The Polentani of Ravenna,
the Malatesti of Rimino, the Estensi of Ferrara, the Visconti of Milan,
the Scala of Verona, Castruccio of Lucca, and also Robert, king of
Naples, sought to engage him with eagerness, and for some period
retained him in their service. Milan, Urbino, Arezzo, and Bologna, were
desirous to possess his works; and Pisa, that, in her Campo
Santo, afforded an opportunity for the choicest artists of Tuscany
to vie with one another,[54] as of old they contended
at Corinth, [Pg
41]and in Delphi,
[55] obtained from him those
historic paintings from the life of Job, which are greatly admired,
though they are amongst his early productions. When Giotto was no more,
similar applause was bestowed on his disciples: cities contended for the
honour of inviting them, and they were even more highly estimated than
the native artists themselves. We shall find Cavallini and Capanna in
the Roman School; in that of Bologna the two Faentini, Pace, and
Ottaviano, with Guglielmo da Forli; Menabuoi at Padua; Memmi, who was
either a scholar or assistant of Giotto, at Avignon; and we shall find
traces of the successors of the same school throughout all Italy. This
work will indicate the names of some of them; it will point out the
style of others; without including the great number who, in every
province, have been withdrawn from our view, for the purpose of
replacing old pictures with others in the new manner. Giotto thus became
the model for students during the whole of the fourteenth century, as
was Raffaello in the sixteenth, and the Caracci in the subsequent
century: nor can I find a fourth manner that has been so generally
received in Italy as that of those three schools. There have been some
who, from the inspiration of their own genius, had adopted a new manner,
but they were little known or admired beyond the precincts of their own
country. Of the Florentines alone can it be asserted, [Pg 42]that
they diffused the modern style from one extremity of Italy to the other:
in the restoration of painting, though not all, yet the chief praise
belongs to them; and this forms my second proposition.

I proceed more willingly to the sequel of my work, having escaped
from that part of it in which, amid the contradictory sentiments of
authors, I have often suspended my pen, mindful of the maxim,
Historia nihil falsi audeat dicere, nihil veri non audeat.
Resuming the subject of Florence, after the death of her great artist in
1336, I find painters had there prodigiously multiplied, as I shall
presently, from undoubted testimony, proceed to prove. Not long
afterwards, that is, in 1349, the painters associated themselves into a
religious fraternity, which they denominated the Society of St. Luke,
first established in S. Maria Nuova, but afterwards in S. Maria Novella.
This was not the first that had arisen in Italy, as Baldinucci affirms:
in 1290 there was a company of painters previously established at
Venice, of which St. Luke was the patron, the laws of which, it is
believed, are still preserved in the church of St. Sophia.[56] But neither this, the Florentine, nor that of
Bologna, can be called academies for design; they were only the results
of Christian devotion, a sort of school, such as formerly existed, and
still exist in many of the arts. They did not consist [Pg 43]of
painters alone; these always possessed the most elevated rank; but in
the same place were assembled artists “in metal and in wood, whose works
partook, more or less, of design;” as is related by Baldinucci, in
describing the Florentine association. In that of Venice were
comprehended basket-makers, gilders, and the lowest daubers; in that of
Bologna were included even saddlers, and scabbard-makers; who were only
divided from the painters by means of lawsuits and decisions. That
unrefined age did not as yet acknowledge the dignity of painting; it
denominated those artists master workmen, whom we now call professors of
the art, and it called shops what we name studies. I have often doubted,
whether the progress of the arts was so rapid among us as in Greece,
because, there, painting, either from the beginning or a very early era,
was considered as a liberal art: with us its dignity was much longer in
being acknowledged.

He who desires to discover the origin of those associations, will
find it in the works composed of different arts then most in use, of
which I shall treat somewhat fully, for the sake of illustrating the
history. A little above I mentioned basket-makers: at that time, all
kinds of furniture, such as cupboards, benches, and chests, were wrought
by mechanics, and then painted, especially when intended as the
furniture of new married women. Many ancient cabinet pictures have been
cut out of such pieces of furniture, and, by this means, preserved [Pg 44]to
later ages. As for images on altars, through the whole of the fourteenth
century, they were not formed, as at present, on a separate piece from
the surrounding ornaments. There were made little altars, or dittici,[57] in many parts of Italy, called Ancone;
they first shaped the wood, and laboriously ornamented it with carving.
The design was conformed to the Teutonic, or, as it is called, the
Gothic architecture, seen in the façades of churches built in that age.
The whole work was a load of minuteness, consisting of little
tabernacles, pyramids, and niches; and various doors and windows, with
semi-circular and pointed arches, were represented on the surface of the
panel; a style very characteristic of that period. I have sometimes
there observed, in the middle, little statues in mezzo-relievo.[58] Most frequently the painter designed these
figures or busts of saints: sometimes there were also prepared various
sorts of [Pg
45]little forms, or moulds—formelle—in which to
represent histories. Often there was a step added to the little altar,
where, in several compartments, were likewise exhibited histories of our
Saviour, of the Virgin, and of the martyrs, either real or feigned.[59] Sometimes various compartments were prepared,
in which their lives were represented. The carvers in wood were so vain
of their craft, that they often inscribed their own names before that of
the painter.[60]

Even pictures for rooms were fashioned by the carvers into triangular
and square forms, which they surrounded with heavy borders, with rude
foliage, lace, or Arabesque ornaments around them. In that age, pictures
were rarely committed to canvass alone, though some such are to be seen
at Florence, and more among the Venetians and people of Bologna; but
panels were most frequently employed. The borders often inclosed
portions of [Pg
46]canvass, not unfrequently of parchment, and sometimes of
leather, which, in all probability, were prepared by those who usually
wrought in such materials; and this is the reason why such artists, and
even in some instances saddlers, were sometimes associated with
painters.

History informs us that shields for war, or the tournament, and also
various equestrian accoutrements, as the saddles and trappings of
horses, were ornamented with painting, a custom which was retained till
the time of Francia, as Vasari mentions in his life; hence, armourers
and saddlers became associated with painters. Among them in like manner
might be included those who prepared walls for painting in fresco, and
who covered them with a reddish ground, which not unfrequently is still
discovered in the flaws. On this colour the figures were designed, and
such walls were the cartoons of the old masters. The stucco workers also
assisted them in those relieved ornaments we see in fresco paintings. I
believe they used moulds in those works, which seem nothing else than
globules, flowerets, and little stars, formed with a stamp, such as we
see on gilt plaister, on leather, on board, and on playing-cards. On
whatever substance they painted, some gold was usually added; with it
they ornamented the ground of their pictures, the glories of their
saints, their garments, and fringes. Although painters themselves were
skilled in such labours, it appears that they sought the assistance of
gilders, and therefore gilders [Pg 47]were classed with painters, and like
them inscribed works with their names.

This was the practice of Cini and Saracini, just before recorded, and
particularly of a native of Ferrara, who, in the pictures of the
Vivarini, at Venice, subscribes his name before theirs. (See Zanetti,
Pittura Ven. p. 15.) And in the cathedral of Ceneda, below an
Incoronation of the Virgin, in which the artist did not care to exhibit
himself to posterity, the engraver, already noticed, left the following
inscription, which Signor Lorenzo Giustiniani, a Venetian patrician of
great taste and cultivation of mind, has very politely communicated to
me; “1438, a di 10. Frever Christofalo da Ferara intajo.“

Towards the end of the fourteenth century, when the gothic style was
disappearing from architecture, the design of the carvers improved, and
they began to erect over altars oblong panels, divided by partitions,
which were fashioned into pilasters, or small columns, and often between
these last feigned gates or windows, so that the ancona or altar bore
some resemblance to the façade of a palace or a church; over them was
placed a frieze, and above the frieze was a place like a stage with some
figures. The saints were placed below, and their histories were painted
in the compartments; and often there appeared their histories painted
upon some little form, or upon the steps. The partitions were gradually
removed, the proportions of the figures enlarged, and the saints were
disposed [Pg
48]in a single piece around the throne of our Lord, not so
erect as formerly, after the manner of statues, but in different actions
and positions, a custom which prevailed even in the sixteenth century.
The practice of gilding grounds declined towards the end of the
fifteenth century, but it was increased on the garments, and fringes
were never so deep as at that period. About the close of that century
gold was more sparingly employed, and it was almost wholly abandoned in
the following. No little benefit would be conferred upon the art by any
one who would undertake to point out with accuracy what were the
colours, gums, and other mixtures employed by the Greeks. They were
undoubtedly in possession of the best methods transmitted to them by a
tradition, which though in some measure corrupted, was confessedly
derived from their ancestors. Even subsequent to the invention of oils,
their colouring is in some degree deserving of our admiration. In the
Medicean Museum there is a Madonna, subscribed with the following Latin
inscription, Andreas Rico de Candia pinxit, the forms of which
are stupid, the folds inelegant, and the composition coarse; but with
all this, the colour is so fresh, vivid, and brilliant, that there is no
modern work that would not lose by a comparison; indeed, the colouring
is so extremely strong and firm, that when tried with the iron, it does
not liquefy, but rather scales off, and breaks in minute portions. The
frescos, likewise, of the earliest Greek and Italian painters, [Pg 49]are
surprisingly strong, and more particularly in upper than in lower Italy.
There are some figures of saints upon the pilasters of the church of San
Niccolo, at Trevigi, quite remarkable for their durability, an account
of which is given in the first volume of Padre Federici, (p. 188). I
have understood from professors that such a degree of consistency
must have been produced by a certain portion of wax, which was employed
at that period, as will be explained in the subsequent chapter, on the
subject of painting in oil. It must, however, be admitted, that we are
very little advanced in these inquiries into the ancient methods of
preparing colour. Were they once satisfactorily explored, it would prove
highly useful in the restoration of ancient pictures, nor superfluous in
regard to the adoption of that firm, fused, and lucid colouring, which
we shall have occasion to commend in various Lombard and Venetian
pictures, and more especially in those of Coreggio.

These observations will not be useless to the connoisseur, who doubts
the age of a picture on which there are no characters. Where there are
letters he may proceed with still greater certainty. The letters
vulgarly called gothic, began to be used after the year 1200, in some
places more early than in others; and characters were loaded with a
superfluity of lines, through the whole of the fourteenth, until about
the middle of the fifteenth century, when the use of the Roman alphabet
was [Pg
50]revived. What forms were adopted by artists in subscribing
their names, will be more conveniently explained in the course of a few
pages further. I have judged it proper to give here a sort of paleology
of painting; because inattention to this has been, and still is, a
fruitful source of error. The reader, however, may observe, that though
the rules here proposed, afford some light to resolve doubtful points,
they are not to be considered as infallible and universal, and he may
further recollect, that in matters of antiquity nothing is more
dangerous and ridiculous, than to form general rules, which a single
example may be sufficient to overthrow.

[26]
See Tiraboschi, Storia della Litterat. Italiana, towards the end
of tom. iv. See also the Dissertation of Lami on the Italian painters
and sculptors who flourished from the year 1000 to 1300; in the
Supplement to Vinci’s Trattato della Pittura, printed at Florence
in 1792; and see Moreni, P. iv. p. 108.

[27]
See the Oration of Mon. Francesco Carrara Delle Lodi delle belle
Arti, Roma, 1758, 4to. with the accompanying Notes, in which the two
Bianchini, Marangoni, and Bottari, their illustrators, are cited.

[28]
Pointed out to me by Sig. D’Agincourt, a gentleman deeply versed in
antiquities of this sort.

[29]
There were similar remains in the choir, the design of which I have
seen. They were covered over in 1733. Among other curiosities was the
portrait of the patriarch Popone, of the Emperor Conrad, and his son
Henry; the design, action, and characters, like the mosaics at Rome;
executed about the year 1030. See Bartoli, Antichità di Aquileja,
p. 369; and Altan, Del vario Stato, &c. p. 5.

[30]
The figure of our Lady is retouched; but two miniatures attached to it,
are better preserved; the one represents a man, the other a woman: and
their drapery is in the costume of that period. The figures are reversed
in the engraving of them, which is published.

[31]
See P. della Valle in the Preface to Vasari, p. 51.

[32]
A few pictures by superior Greek artists, remain, which are very good.
Of this number is a Madonna, with a Greek inscription, at the church of
S. Maria in Cosmedin at Rome. There is also one at Camerino said to have
come from Smyrna; and I know of no Greek picture in Italy better
executed or better preserved.

[33]
The lateral gate of bronze is of very rude workmanship, as described by
the Canon Martini, in his account of that temple, p. 85; and by Sig. da
Morrona, it is with much probability ascribed to the hand of Bonanno
Pisano. From Vasari’s life of Arnalfo, we learn that the same sculptor
also executed the great gate of the Primaziale at Pisa, in bronze, about
the year 1180, subsequently destroyed by fire. That of Santa Maria Nuova
at Monreale, is likewise his. It is described by P. del Giudice, in his
account of that church, and bears the name of Bonanno Pisano, with the
date 1186. It is as rudely executed as the preceding one at Pisa, as I
am assured by the Cavalier Puccini, accurately versed in every branch of
the fine arts. If we wish to estimate the merit of Niccola Pisano, we
have only to compare these two gates with the specimens which he gave us
only a few years afterwards.

[34]
Several specimens of similar productions also remain in Sicily,
particularly at Mazzerra and Girganti. At Palermo, the tomb of the
Empress Constance II. who died in the year 1222, is decorated with an
antique sculpture in basso relievo, representing a chase, which is
conjectured to represent that of Æneas and Dido, and which is well
engraved. See the work entitled, “I Regali Sepolchri del Duomo di
Palermo riconosciuti e illustrati. Nap. 1784.”

Another specimen of this sort is said to be in the
collection of Mr. Blundell, at Ince.

[35]
In the new Guide to Milan, Sig. Abate Bianconi observes, “that these are
beautiful works, and that nothing superior is to be seen in any work of
that age. Vasari, by omitting this very eminent Pisan, and not
mentioning these works, although he was according to his own account at
Milan, has given reason to believe, that he was not over anxious in his
researches.” p. 215.

See also Giulini and Verri, as quoted by Sig. da
Morrona in tom. i. pp. 199, 200.

[36]
The mosaic school subsisted at Rome as early as the eleventh and twelfth
centuries. (See Musant. Fax Chronol. pp. 319, 338.) In this the family
of the Cosmati acquired great excellence. Adeodato di Cosimo Cosmati
employed himself in the church of St. Maria Maggiore, in 1290, (Guide to
Rome); and several of the same name exercised their talents in the
cathedral of Orvieto. (See Valle Catalogo.) The whole of these are
preferred to the Greek mosaic workers, who were at the same period
engaged in decorating St. Mark’s at Venice. (See Valle’s Preface to
Vasari, p. 61.)

[37]

is the inscription on the mosaic.

[38]
See Pisa Illustrata of Signor da Morrona, tom. i. p. 224.

[39]
Tom. ii. p. 127.

[40]
In the sacristy of the Angioli is preserved the most ancient portrait of
San Francesco that is extant. It is painted on the panel which served as
the saint’s couch until the period of his decease, as we learn from the
inscription. It is there supposed to be the work of some Greek artist
anterior to Giunta.

[41]
See Signor Ab. Bettinelli, Risorgimento d’ Italia negli studii, nelle
arti, ne’ costumi dopo il mille, p. 192.

[42]
To this list of early painters might perhaps be added the name of
Francesco Benani, by whom there is a whole length figure of St. Jerome
holding a crucifix in his hand. It possesses all the characteristics
attributed by Lanzi to this early age. Near the bottom of the picture is
a label, inscribed, Franciscus Benanus, Filius Petri Ablada. The size of
the picture is 2 feet 8 by 2 feet 2, on panel, covered with gypsum. The
vehicle of the colours is probably prepared from eggs, which were
usually employed for that purpose before the invention of painting in
oil, and to which an absorbent ground of lime or gypsum seems to have
been indispensable. It is surprising how well the early pictures
executed in this style have preserved their colouring to the present
day.

[43]
This writer has thrown much light upon the history of our early
painters, from which I have derived and shall continue to derive, much
benefit; but in the heat of dispute, he has frequently depreciated
Cimabue in a way which I cannot approve. For instance, Vasari having
said, that “he contributed greatly to the perfection of the art,” della
Valle asserts, that “he did it neither good nor harm;” and that having
closely examined the pictures of Cimabue, “he has found in them a ruder
style than appears in those of Giunta Pisano, of Guido da Siena, of
Jacopo da Turrita, &c.” (tom. i. p. 235.) Of the two last I shall
speak elsewhere. With respect to the first, the writer contradicts
himself four pages after; when, commenting on another passage of the
historian relating to certain pictures of Cimabue, executed in Assisi in
the inferior church of S. Francesco, he says, that “he there, in his
opinion, surpassed Giunta Pisano.” It is to be remembered that this was
his first work, or amongst the first that Cimabue painted in Assisi.
When he went thither, therefore, he was a better artist than Giunta.
How, then, when he worked in the superior church, in Assisi, and in so
many other places, did he become so bad a painter, and more uncouth than
Giunta himself?

[44]
See Baldinucci, tom. i. p. 17, Florentine Edition, 1767, where it is
said that the Cimabuoi were also called Gualtieri.

[45]
But see Baldinucci in Veglia, p. 87.

[46]
We read, in the preface to the Sienese edition of Vasari’s Lives, (p.
17) as follows: “To Giunta and to the other artists of Pisa, as heads of
the school, was given the principal direction of adorning the Franciscan
church; and Cimabue and Giotto are known to have been either disciples
or assistants in their school, in which they produced several important
works. Giunta had the direction of his assistant as long as he resided
there, which may have been even subsequent to 1236. But how are we to
suppose that he could have been at Assisi so long as to permit Cimabue
(who was born in 1240, and went to Assisi about 1265) to assist, to
receive instructions from, and to succeed him? Such a supposition is
still more untenable as regards Giotto, who was invited to Assisi many
years afterwards.” (Vasari.)

[47]
To the testimonies in favor of Cimabue, may be added one of no little
weight, from the manuscript given to the public a few years since, by
the Abbate Morelli. We there find that Cimabue painted in Padua, in the
church del Carmine, which was afterwards burnt; but that a head of S.
Giovanni, by him, being rescued from the flames, was inserted in a
frame, and preserved in the house of Alessandro Capella. Would a
painter, who had done neither good nor harm to the Florentine school,
and to the art, have been invited to Padua? Would the remains of his
works have been held in such esteem? Would he have been so highly
valued, after so great a lapse of time, by Vasari, to whose arts he
seems to wish to ascribe the reputation of Cimabue. Other proofs of this
reputation may be seen in the defence of Vasari, in the present Book,
third Epoch. The writer of history ought completely to divest himself of
the love of system and party spirit.

[48]
Vasari, tom. i. p. 322.

[49]
A book is mentioned by Baldinucci ornamented by Giotto with miniatures,
with histories from the Old Testament, and presented to the vestry of
St. Peter, by Cardinal Stefaneschi; of this he neither adduces any
proof, nor can I find any record. From the evidence, rather, of an
existing necrology, where, among the presents made by Stefaneschi to the
cathedral, the pictures and the mosaic by Giotto are noticed without any
other work of this artist, the gift of the book is very doubtful. See
Sig. Ab, Cancellieri De Secretariis Veteris Basilicæ Vaticanæ, p.
859, and 2464. Some miniatures of the martyrdom and miracles of St.
George, in another book, are ascribed to him; but I am uncertain whether
there is any ancient document for this; and they might, possibly, be the
work of Simone da Siena, who is often confounded with him.

[50]
See his first volume, pp. 131 and 202; and also P. della Valle in the
preface to Vasari, p. 27; also Signor da Morrona in his Pisa Illustrata,
p. 154; besides many other authors.

[51]
D. Valle’s preface to Vasari, p. 36.

[52]
We may observe, that Malvasia is the champion, not only of Bologna, but
of Italy, and of all Europe. At page 11, volume first, he has quoted a
passage from Filibien, which proves that design always maintained itself
in France, even in rude ages, and that at the time of Cimabue it was
there equally respectable as in Italy.

[53]
A catalogue of them is given in P. della Valle, in his history of that
Church, and is republished in the Sienese edition of Vasari, at the end
of the second volume.

[54]
This place, which will ever do high honour to the magnificence of the
Pisans, would be an inestimable museum, if the pictures there, executed
by Giotto, by Memmi, by Stefano Florentino, by Buffalmacco, by Antonio
Veneziano, by the two Orcagni, by Spinello Aretino, and by Laurati, had
been carefully preserved; but the greatest number having been injured by
dampness, were repaired, but with considerable judgment, within the
century.

[55]
Plin. xxxv. 9.

[56]
Zanet. p. 3.

[57]
It was a very ancient practice of Christian worship to place the silver,
or ivory dittici, upon the altars during the service of the mass, and
when the sacred ceremony was over, they were folded up in the manner of
a book, and taken elsewhere. The same figure was retained, even in the
introduction of the largest altar pieces, which likewise consisted of
two wings, and were portable. This custom, of which I have seen few
remnants in Italy, has been long preserved in the Greek church. At
length, by degrees, artists began to paint upon one whole panel. (See
Buonarroti Vetri Antichi, p. 258, &c.)

[58]
In Torrello, one of the Venetian isles, there is an ancient image of St.
Hadrian, which is tolerably carved, and around it the history of the
saint is depicted: the style is feeble, but not Grecian.

[59]
I notice this peculiarity, because the histories, either painted or
engraved, belonging to those early times, are apt to perplex us; nor can
they be cleared up without having recourse to books of fiction, which
were, in those less civilized periods, believed. In the acts of our
Saviour, and of the Virgin, it may be useful to consult Gio. Alberto
Fabrizio, in the collection entitled “Codex Apocr. Novi
Testamenti;” in the acts of the apostles and martyrs, it is not so
much their real history, as the legends, either manifestly false or
suspected, as recounted by the Bollandisti, that will throw light upon
the subject.

[60]
See Vasari in the life of Spinello Aretino: “Simone Cini, a Florentine,
carved it, it was gilt by Gabriello Saracini, and Spinello di Luca of
Arezzo, painted it in the year 1385.” A similar signature may be seen in
Pittura Veneziana, page 15.

[Pg
51]

FLORENTINE SCHOOL.

EPOCH I.

SECT. II.

It is worthy of remark, that Vasari, in the life of Jacopo
di Casentino, quotes the manuscript records of the society of St. Luke,
afterwards printed by Baldinucci, and mentions fourteen painters who
were formerly its captains, counsellors, or chamberlains; yet he takes
no notice of them in his Lives, and of but very few of the great
number named in that manuscript. The same selection was employed by
Baldinucci, in whose Veglia we are informed
that many painters flourished about 1300, the names of whom he has
refused to insert in his anecdotes. It clearly appears from his writings
that he omitted about a hundred, all belonging to that age.[61] It is therefore incorrect to say, that [Pg 52]those
two historians have commemorated many artists of mediocrity, merely
because they were natives of Florence, an accusation alleged against
them by foreigners. The artists of their country whom they have
transmitted to posterity, are not less worthy of record than those
ancient ones of Venice, of Bologna, and of Lombardy, whom we are
accustomed to praise in their respective schools. Among this number I
include Buffalmacco, the wit whose jests, as recorded in Boccaccio and
Sacchetti, render him more celebrated than his pictures. His real name
was Buonamico di Cristofano. He had been the scholar of Tafi, but by
living long in the time of Giotto, he had an opportunity of correcting
his own style. He displayed a most lively fancy, “and when he chose to
exert himself (which rarely happened) was not inferior to any of his
contemporaries.”[62] It is unfortunate that his
best works, which were in the Abbey and in Ognisanti, have perished, and
there only remain some less carefully executed at Arezzo and at Pisa.
The best preserved are in [Pg 53]the Campo Santo; viz. the Creation of
the World, in which there is a figure of the Deity, five cubits high,
sustaining the mighty frame of the heavens and the elements, and three
other historical pictures of Adam, of his children, and of Noah. A
crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension of the Redeemer, may be seen at
the same place. Good symmetry is not to be looked for in them; he knew
but little of design, and he drew his figures by other rules than the
roundness and facility seen in the disciples of Giotto. His heads are
deficient in beauty and variety. The pious women near the cross all have
the same mean and vulgar features, in which the mouths are opened even
to deformity. Some of the heads of the men, especially that of Cain,
possess, however, a physiognomical expression which arrests the eye of
the spectator. The air of nature too in the action, as in the man, who,
full of horror, flies from Mount Calvary, is highly praiseworthy. His
draperies are greatly varied, are distinguished by the difference of
stuffs and linings, and are laboriously ornamented with flowers and with
fringes. Before he was employed in the Campo Santo, he painted in the
church of St. Paul, Ripa d’Arno, where he was associated with one Bruno
di Giovanni, formerly his fellow student, and believed to be the painter
of a St. Ursula in a piece which still exists in the Commenda. Unable to
attain the expression of Buffalmacco, he tried to atone for the defect
by the aid of sentences proceeding from the mouths of his figures, which
expressed what their features [Pg 54]and attitudes were incapable of
explaining, a practice in which he was preceded by Cimabue, and followed
by the eccentric Orcagna and several others. This Bruno, together with
Nello di Dino, was associated with Buffalmacco in the jests contrived
for the simple Calandrino. They all owe their fame to Boccaccio, who
introduces them in the eighth day of his Decamerone; and a similar
favour was conferred by Sacchetti on a Bartolo Gioggi, a house-painter,
whom he introduced into his one hundred and seventieth tale. Giovanni da
Ponte, the scholar of Buffalmacco, had some merit, but he was not at all
solicitous to increase it by his diligence. Some remains of his pictures
exist on the walls of the church of St. Francis, at Arezzo.

I believe that Bernardo Orcagna, who rivalled the fame of
Buffalmacco, proceeded from some old school. He was the son of one
Cione, a sculptor, and his brother Jacopo was of the same profession:
but the other brother, Andrea, surpassed them all; and in himself so far
united the attainments of the three sister arts, that he was by some
reckoned second only to Giotto. He is known among architects for having
introduced the circular arch instead of the acute, as may be seen in the
gallery of the Lanzi, which he built and ornamented with sculpture.
Bernardo taught him the principles of painting. They who have
represented him as the pupil of Angiol Gaddi, do not appear attentive to
dates. In the Strozzi chapel in the church of S. Maria Novella, he and
Bernardo painted Paradise, and over against it the Infernal Regions; and
[Pg
55]in the Campo Santo of Pisa, Death and the Judgment were
executed by Andrea, and Hell by Bernardo. The two brothers imitated
Dante in the novel representations which they executed at those places;
and that style was more happily repeated by Andrea in the church of
Santa Croce, where he inserted portraits of his enemies among the
damned, and of his friends among the blessed spirits. These pictures are
the prototypes of similar pictures preserved in S. Petronio, at Bologna,
in the cathedral of Tolentino, in the Badia del Sesto, at Friuli,[63] and some other places, in which hell is
distinguished by abysses and a variety of torments, after the manner of
Dante. Several pictures by Andrea remain, and his name is still on that
in the Strozzi chapel, which is full of figures and of episodes. On the
whole, he discovers fertility of imagination, diligence, and spirit,
[Pg
56]equal to any of his contemporaries. In composition he was
less judicious, in attitudes less exact, than the followers of Giotto;
and he yields to them in drawing and in colouring.

The same school produced Marinotto, a nephew of Andrea, and a Tommaso
di Marco, whom I pass over, as well as others of little note, no longer
known by existing works. Bernardo Nello di Gio. Falconi of Pisa merits
consideration. He executed many pictures in that cathedral, and is
supposed to be the same with that Nello di Vanni, who, with other Pisan
artists, painted in the Campo Santo in the fourteenth century. Francesco
Traini, a Florentine, is known as much superior to his master, by a
large picture which is in the church of S. Catherine of Pisa, in which
he has represented St. Thomas Aquinas in his own form, and also in his
beatification. He stands in the middle of the picture, under the
Redeemer, who sheds a glory on the Evangelists and him; and from them
the rays are scattered on a crowd of listeners, composed of clergy,
doctors, bishops, cardinals, and popes. Arius and other innovators are
at the feet of the saint, as if vanquished by his doctrine; and near him
appear Plato and Aristotle, with their volumes open, a circumstance not
to be commended in such a subject. This work exhibits no skill in
grouping, no knowledge of relief, and it abounds in attitudes which are
either too tame, or too constrained; and yet it pleases by a marked
expression in the countenances, an air of the antique in the draperies,
and a certain novelty [Pg 57]in the composition. Let us now pass on
to the followers of Giotto.

The scholars of Giotto have fallen into an error common to the
followers of all illustrious men; in despairing to surpass, they have
only aspired to imitate him with facility. On this account the art did
not advance so quickly as it might otherwise have done, among the
Florentine and other artists of the fourteenth century, who flourished
after Giotto. In the several cities above mentioned, Giotto invariably appears superior when seen
in the vicinity of such painters as Cavallini, or Gaddi; and whoever is
acquainted with his style, stands in no need of a prolix account of that
of his followers, which, with a general resemblance to him, is less
grand and less agreeable. Stefano Fiorentino alone is a superior genius
in the opinion of Vasari, according to whose account he greatly excelled
Giotto in every department of painting. He was the son of Catherine, a
daughter of Giotto, and possessed a genius for penetrating into the
difficulties of the art, and an insuperable desire of conquering them.
He first introduced foreshortenings into painting, and if in this he did
not attain his object, he greatly improved the perspective of buildings,
the attitudes, and the variety and expression of the heads. According to
Landino he was called the Ape of Nature, an eulogy of a rude age;
since such animals, in imitating the works of man, always debase them:
but Stefano endeavoured to equal and to embellish those of nature. The
most celebrated of his pictures which [Pg 58]were in the Ara
Cœli at Rome, in the church of S. Spirito at Florence, and in
other places, have all perished. As far as I know, his country does not
possess one of his undoubted pictures; unless we mention as such, that
of the Saviour in the Campo Santo of Pisa, which, indeed, is in a
greater manner than the works of this master, but it has been retouched.
A Pietà, by his son and disciple Tommaso, as is believed by some,
exists in S. Remigi at Florence, which strongly partakes of the manner
of Giotto; like his frescos at Assisi. He deserved the name of Giottino,
given him by his fellow citizens, who used to say that the soul of
Giotto had transmigrated, and animated him. Baldinucci alleges that
there was another of the same name, who should not be confounded with
him, and quotes the following inscription from a picture in the Villa
Tolomei, “Dipinse Tommaso di Stefano Fortunatino de’ Gucci Tolomei.” But
Cinelli, the strenuous opponent of Baldinucci, attributes it, perhaps
justly, to Giottino. This artist left behind him one Lippo, sufficiently
commended by Vasari, but who rather seems to have been an imitator than
a scholar. Giovanni Tossicani of Arezzo, was a disciple of Giottino,
employed in Pisa and over all Tuscany. He painted the St. Philip and St.
James, which still remain on the baptismal font in Arezzo, and were
repaired by Vasari while a young man, who acknowledges that he learned
much from this work, injured as it was. With him perished the best
branch of the stock of Giotto.

Taddeo Gaddi may be considered as the Giulio [Pg 59]Romano of Giotto, his
most intimate and highly favoured pupil. Vasari, who saw his frescos and
easel pictures at Florence, in good preservation, prefers him to his
master, in colouring and in delicacy; but the lapse of time at this day
forbids our deciding this point, although several of his pictures
remain, especially in the church of Santa Croce, which are scriptural
histories, much in the manner of Giotto. He discovered more originality
in the chapter house of the Spagnuoli, where he worked in competition
with Memmi.[64] He painted some of the
acts of the Redeemer on the ceiling, and the descent of the Holy Spirit
in the refectory, which is among the finest specimens of art in the
fourteenth century. On one of the walls he painted the Sciences, and
under each some one of its celebrated professors; and demonstrated his
excellence in this species of allegorical painting, which approaches so
nearly to poetry. The brilliance and clearness of his tints are chiefly
conspicuous in that chapter house. The royal gallery contains the taking
down of Christ, the work of his hands, which was formerly at
Orsanmichele, and by some ascribed to Buffalmacco, merely because it was
unascertained. Taddeo flourished beyond the term assigned him by Vasari,
and outlived most of those already named. This may be collected from
Franco Sacchetti, a contemporary writer, who relates in his 136th Tale,
that Andrea Orcagna proposed as a question, [Pg 60]“who was the greatest
master, setting Giotto out of the question?“ Some answered Cimabue, others Stefano,
some Bernardo, and some Buffalmacco. Taddeo Gaddi, who was in the
company, said, “truly these were very able painters, but the art is
decaying every day, &c.” He is mentioned up to 1352, and he might
possibly survive several years.

He left at his death several disciples, who became eminent teachers
of painting in Florence, and other places. D. Lorenzo Camaldolese is
mentioned with honour. He instructed pupils in the art; and several old
pictures by him and his scholars are in the monastery of the Angeli. At
that time the fraternity of Camaldulites furnished some miniature
painters, one of whom, named D. Silvestro, ornamented missals, which
still exist, and are amongst the best that Italy possesses. The most
favoured pupils of Taddeo were Giovanni da Milano, whom I shall notice
in the school of Lombardy, and Jacopo di Casentino, who also will find a
place there, together with his imitators. To these two he recommended on
his death-bed his two sons and disciples: Giovanni, who died
prematurely, with a reputation for genius; and Angiolo, who being then
very young, most needed a protector. The latter died, according to
Vasari, at 63 years of age; in 1589, according to the date of
Baldinucci. He did not improve the art in proportion to his abilities,
but contented himself with imitating Giotto and his father, in which he
was astonishingly successful. [Pg 61]The church of S. Pancrazio possessed one
picture by him, containing several saints, and some histories from the
Gospel, which may still be seen in the monastery, divided into several
pieces, and coloured in a taste superior to what was then usual. There
is another in the same style in the sacristy of the Conventual friars,
by whom he was employed in the choir of the church, to paint in fresco
the story of the recovery of the Cross, and its transportation in the
time of Heraclius; a work inferior to the others, because much larger,
and to him somewhat new. He afterwards lived at Venice, as a merchant
rather than as a painter; and Baldinucci, who seizes every opportunity
of supporting his hypothesis, says, that if he was not the founder of
that school, he, at least, improved it. But I shall demonstrate, in the
proper place, that the Venetian school was advancing to a modern style,
before Angiolo could have taught in that place; and in the many old
pictures I saw at Venice, I was unable to recal to mind the delicate
style of Angiolo. The Venetians owe to him the education of Stefano da
Verona, whom I shall consider in the second volume; and he gave the
Florentines Cennino Cennini, praised by Vasari as a colourist, of whom
as a writer I shall soon make mention.

In the school of Angiolo Gaddi we may reckon Antonio Veneziano,
concerning whom Vasari and Baldinucci disagree. The former makes him a
Venetian, “who came to Florence to learn painting of Agnolo Gaddi:” the
latter, a systematic writer, as we have seen, asserts that he was born
in Florence, [Pg
62]and that he obtained the surname of Veneziano, from his
residence and many labours in Venice, on the authority of certain
memoirs in the Strozzi library, which were, perhaps, doubted by himself;
for had they been of high authority, he would not have omitted to
proclaim their antiquity. However this may be, each of them is a little
inconsistent with himself. As they assert that Antonio died of the
plague in 1384, or, according to the correction of their annotators, in
1383, at the age of 74, it follows that he was born many years before
Gaddi, whose disciple, therefore, we cannot easily suppose him. It is
likewise rendered doubtful by his design in the legends of S. Ranieri,[65] which remain in the Campo Santo of Pisa, where
there is a certain facility, care, and caprice in the composition, that
savour of another school. Vasari, moreover, notices a method of painting
in fresco, without ever re-touching it when dry, that would seem to have
been introduced from other parts, different [Pg 63]from what was employed
by the Tuscan artists, his competitors, whose paintings, in the time of
the historian, were not in as good a state of preservation as those of
Antonio. In the same place he deposited his portrait, which the
describers of the ducal gallery at Florence pretend still to find in the
chamber of celebrated artists. This portrait is, however, painted in a
manner so modern, that I cannot believe it the work of a painter so
ancient. On this occasion I must observe that there was another Antonio
Veneziano, whom this picture probably represents, and who, about the
year 1500, painted, at Osimo, a picture of St. Francis, in the manner of
that age, and inscribed it with his name. I learned this from the
accomplished Sig. Cav. Aqua, who added, that this name had been erased,
and that of Pietro Perugino inserted, who certainly gains no very great
honour by such substitution.

We learn from history[66] that Antonio educated in
Paolo Uccello, a great artist in perspective; and in Gherardo Starnina,
a master in the gay style, of whom there are yet some remnants, in a
chapel of [Pg
64]the church of Santa Croce. They are among the last efforts
of the school of Giotto, which succeeding artists abandoned, to adopt a
better manner. One exception occurs in Antonio Vite, who executed some
works in the old style, in Pistoia, his native city, and in Pisa. I may
here observe, that Starnina and Dello Fiorentino shortly after
introduced the new Italian manner in the court of Spain, and returned to
Florence with honour and with affluence. The first remained to enjoy
them in his native country, until the time of his death: the latter
returned back to increase them; and, according to Vasari, he left no
public work in Florence, except an historic design of Isaac, in green
earth, in a cloister of the church of S. Maria Novella: perhaps he ought
to have said, that he left various works, for several are there visible,
all in the same taste, and so rude, as to induce us to reckon him rather
a follower of Buffalmacco than of Giotto. But he excelled in small
pieces; and there was none then living who could more elegantly ornament
cabinets, coffers, the backs of couches, or other household furniture,
with subjects from history and fable.

Among the disciples of Taddeo Gaddi I have named Jacopo del
Casentino, of whom there are some remains in the church of Orsanmichele.
Jacopo taught Spinello Aretino, a man of a most lively fancy, as may be
gathered from some of his pictures in Arezzo, no less than from his
life. He painted also at Florence, and was one of those who had the
honour of ornamenting the Campo Santo [Pg 65]of Pisa with historical
paintings. His pictures of the martyrs S. Petito and S. Epiro, are
noticed by Vasari as his best performances. He was, however, inferior to
his competitors by the meanness of his design, and the style of his
colouring, in which green and black are predominant, without being
sufficiently relieved by other colours. The fall of the angels still
remains in S. Angelo at Arezzo, in which Lucifer is represented so
terrible, that it afterwards haunted the dreams of the artist, and,
deranging both his mind and body, hastened his death. Bernardo Daddi was
his scholar; a man less known in his own country than at Florence, where
he executed a picture, seen on the gate of San Giorgio (See Moreni, lib.
v. p. 5.); as was also Parri, the son of Spinello, who modernised his
style somewhat on the manner of Masolino. The latter excelled in the art
of colouring, but he was barbarous in the drawing of his figures, which
he made extravagantly long and bending, in order, as he was used to say,
to give them greater spirit. One may see some remains of them at Arezzo
in S. Domenico, and other places. Lorenzo di Bicci of Florence, another
scholar of Spinello, was the Vasari of his time, for the multiplicity,
celerity, and easy self-complacency, shewn in his labours. The first
cloister of the church of S. Croce retains several specimens, consisting
of the legends of S. Francis; and there is an Assumption on the front,
in which he was assisted by Donatello, while still a young man. [Pg
66]Perhaps his best work is the fresco, ornamenting the
sanctuary of S. Maria Nuova, built by Martin V. about the year 1418. His
son Neri is reckoned among the last followers of Giotto. He lived but a
short time; he left, in S. Romolo, a picture which would not have
disgraced his father, and which is certainly more carefully executed
than was usual with the latter.

During the fourteenth century, sculpture was cultivated at Pisa by as
many artists as painting was at Florence; but Pisa was not on that
account destitute of painters worthy of being recorded. Vasari mentions
one Vicino, who finished the mosaic begun by Turrita, assisted by Tafi
and Gaddi, and adds, that he was also a painter. Sig. da Morrona says,
that he retained the old style of his school; which was the case with
many others, as appears from several old Madonnas upon panels, both of
anonymous and of ascertained painters. Of this sort is that in the old
church of Tripalle, and that at S. Matthew’s in Pisa. On the first is
this inscription, Nerus Nellus de Pisa me pinxit, 1299: on the
second we read, Jacopo di Nicola dipintore detto Gera mi dipinse.
The mode of expression is derived from the
μ’εποιησε of the Greeks; to
which the old Pisans closely adhered in their paintings, their
sculptures, and their bronzes.[67]
Like the other [Pg 67]Italians they at length reformed their
style, and there, as well as at Florence and Siena, families of painters
arose, in which the fathers were excelled by their sons, and they by
their children. Thus, from Vanni, who flourished in 1300, sprung Turino
di Vanni, who flourished about 1343, and Nello di Vanni, who painted in
the Campo Santo, whose son Bernardo was the disciple of Orcagna, and
furnished many pictures for the palace of the primate. There was also in
that city one Andrea di Lippo, who is noticed in the Academical
Discourse on the literary history of Pisa, in the year 1336; the
same, I believe, with that Andrea [Pg 68]da Pisa, mentioned among
the artists that ornamented the cathedral of Orvieto in 1346. A work by
one Giovanni di Niccolo remains in the monastery of S. Martha, and,
perhaps, he painted the fine trittico of the Zelada museum at Rome,
which represents our Saviour with S. Stephen, S. Agatha, and other
saints, and which has this inscription, Jo. de Pisis pinxit. This
is a picture of great labour, by some ascribed to Gio. Balducci; which,
if it was ascertained, would confer honour on that great man, as a
professor of the three sister arts. Towards the end of the century the
power of the Pisans declined, rather from civil discord than from other
misfortunes; till at length the city fell into the hands of the
Florentines in 1406, and lay for a long time prostrate and humbled,
deprived, not only of her artists, but almost of her citizens; and fully
glutted the ancient hatred of her hostile neighbours. She at length rose
again, not, indeed, to command, but to more dignified subjection.

The spirit of the Florentines in the mean time increasing with their
power, they became chiefly solicitous to suit the magnificence of their
capital to the grandeur of the state. Cosmo, at once the father of his
country and of men of genius, gave stability to public affairs. Lorenzo
the Magnificent, and others of the house of Medici, followed, whose
hereditary taste for literature and the fine arts is celebrated in a
multitude of books, and most copiously in the histories written by three
eminent authors, Monsignor Fabroni, the Signor [Pg 69]Ab. Galluzzi, and Mr.
Roscoe. Their house was at once a lyceum for philosophers, an arcadia
for poets, and an academy for artists. Dello, Paolo, Masaccio, the two
Peselli, both the Lippi, Benozzo, Sandro, the Ghirlandai, enjoyed the
perpetual patronage of this family, and as constantly rendered it
whatever honour they could bestow. Their pictures are full of portraits,
according to the custom of the times, and continually presented to the
people the likenesses of the Medici, and often represented them with
regal ornaments in their pictures of the Epiphany, as if gradually to
prepare the people to behold the sceptre and royal robe securely
established in that house. The good taste of the Medici was seconded by
that of other citizens, who were then distributed into various
corporations, according to their place of residence and profession, each
of which strove with reciprocal emulation to decorate their houses and
their churches. Besides the desire of public ornament, they were
animated by religion, which, in what relates to divine worship, is so
widely spread, not only among the great, but also among the lower orders
of people, that those have a difficulty in believing who have not beheld
it. Their cathedral, a vast fabric, was already reared for the
ceremonies of religion, and here and there some other churches arose;
these and the more ancient, in emulation of each other, they adorned
with paintings, a luxury unknown to their ancestors, and less common in
the other cities of Italy. This disposition gave rise, after the
conclusion [Pg
70]of the century, to that prodigious number of painters
already mentioned; and hence sprang, in the century we now treat of,
that crowd of artists in marble, bronze, and silver, who transferred
pre-eminence in sculpture, the ancient inheritance of the Pisans, to the
people of Florence. The Florentines were desirous of ornamenting the new
cathedral and baptistery, the church of Orsanmichele, and other sacred
places, with statues and basso-relievos. These brought forward Donatello, Brunelleschi,
Ghiberti, Filarete, Rossellini, Pollajuoli, and Verrocchio, and produced
those noble works in marble, in bronze, and in silver, which sometimes
appear to have attained the perfection of the art, and to have rivalled
the ancients. The rising generation was instructed in design by those
celebrated men, and the universality of the principles they taught, made
the transition from one art to another easy. The same individuals were
often statuaries, founders in bronze, in gold, lapidaries, painters, or
architects, talents that appear enviable to this age, in which an artist
with difficulty acquires a competent knowledge in a single art. Such was
the course of instruction at Florence in the Studies, and such the
subsequent encouragement without, from which it will not appear
wonderful to the reader that this city was the foremost to attain the
perfection of the art. But let us trace the steps by which it advanced
in Florence, and in the rest of Italy.

The followers of Giotto had now carried painting[Pg 71]
beyond the period of its infancy, but it continued to give proofs of its
infant faculties, especially in chiaroscuro, and still more in
perspective. Figures sometimes appeared as if falling or slipping from
the canvass; buildings had not a true point of view; and the art of
foreshortening was yet very rude. Stefano Fiorentino perceived rather
than removed the difficulty; others for the most part sought either to
avoid or to compensate for the deficiency. Pietro della Francesca, whom
we have elsewhere noticed, appears to have been the first who revived
the Grecian practice of rendering geometry subservient to the painter.
He is celebrated by Pascoli,[68]
and by authors of greater note, as the father of perspective.
Brunelleschi was the first Florentine who saw the method of bringing it
to perfection, “which consisted in drawing it in outline by the help of
intersections;”[69] and in this manner he drew
the square of St. John, and other places, with true diminution and with
receding points. He was imitated in mosaic by Benedetto da Maiano, and
in painting by Masaccio, to both of whom he was master. About the same
period Paolo Uccello, having studied under Gio. Manetti, a celebrated
mathematician, applied to it with assiduity; and even so dedicated
himself to the pursuit, that in labouring to excel in this, he never
acquired celebrity in the other branches of painting. He delighted in it
far beyond his[Pg
72] other studies, and used to say that perspective was the
most pleasant of all; so true is it that novelty is a great source of
enjoyment. He executed no work that did not reflect some new light on
that art, whether it consisted of edifices and colonnades, in which a
great space was represented in a small compass, or of figures
foreshortened with a skill unknown to the followers of Giotto. Some of
his historic pictures of Adam, and of Noah, in which he indulged in his
favourite taste for the novel and whimsical, remain in the cloisters of
S. Maria Novella; and there are also landscapes with trees and animals
so well executed, that he might be called the Bassano of the first age.
He particularly delighted to have birds in his house, from which he
drew, and from thence he obtained his surname of Uccello. In the
cathedral there is a gigantic portrait of Gio. Aguto on horseback,
painted by Paolo in green earth. This was, perhaps, the first attempt
made in painting, which achieved a great deal without appearing too
daring. He produced other specimens at Padua, where he delineated some
figures of giants with green earth in the house of the Vitali. He was
chiefly employed in ornamenting furniture for private individuals; the
triumphs of Petrarch in the royal gallery, painted on small cabinets are
supposed by some good judges to be his.

Masolino da Panicale cultivated the art of chiaroscuro. I believe he
derived advantage from having long dedicated his attention to modelling
[Pg
73]and sculpture, a practice which renders relief easy to the
painter, beyond what is generally conceived. Ghiberti had been his
master in this branch, who at this time was unrivalled in design, in
composition, and in giving animation to his figures. Colouring, which he
yet wanted, was taught him by Starnina, and in this also he became a
very celebrated master. Thus uniting in himself the excellences of two
schools, he produced a new style, not indeed exempt from dryness, nor
wholly faultless; but grand, determined, and harmonious, beyond any
former example. The chapel of St. Peter al Carmine, is a remaining
monument of this artist. He there painted the Evangelists, and some acts
of the Saint, as his vocation to the apostleship, the tempest, the
denying of Christ, the miracle performed at Porta Speciosa, and the
Preaching. He was prevented by death from representing other acts of St.
Peter, as for instance, the tribute paid to Cæsar, baptism conferred on
the multitude, the healing of the sick, which several years afterwards
were painted by his scholar Maso di S. Giovanni, a youth who obtained
the surname of Masaccio, from trusting to a precarious subsistence, and
living, as it was said, by chance, while deeply engrossed with the
studies of his profession. This artist was a genius calculated to mark
an era in painting; and Mengs has assigned him the highest place among
those who explored its untried recesses. Vasari informs us that “what
was executed before his time might [Pg 74]be called paintings, but
that his pictures seem to live, they are so true and natural;” and in
another place adds, that “no master of that age so nearly approached the
moderns.” He had formed the principles of his art on the works of
Ghiberti and Donatello; perspective he acquired from Brunelleschi, and
on going to Rome it cannot be doubted that he improved by the study of
ancient sculpture. He there met with two senior artists, Gentile da
Fabriano, and Vittore Pisanello, upon whom high encomiums, as the first
painter of his time, may be seen in Maffei and elsewhere.[70] They who write thus had either not seen any of
the paintings of Masaccio, or at most only his early productions; such
as the S. Anna in the church of S. Ambrose in Florence, or the chapel of
S. Catherine in S. Clement’s at Rome, in which, while still young, he
executed some pictures of the passion of Christ, and legends of S. Anna,
to which may be added a ceiling containing the Evangelists, which are
all that now remain free from retouching. This work is excellent for
that time, but some doubt whether it ought to be ascribed to him; and it
is inferior to his painting in the Carmine, of which we may say with
Pliny, jam perfecta sunt omnia. The positions and foreshortenings
of the figures are diversified and complete beyond those practised by
Paolo Uccello. The air of the heads, says Mengs, is in the style of
Raffaello; the expression is so managed that the mind seems no less
forcibly depicted [Pg 75]than the body. The anatomy of the figure
is marked with truth and judgment. That figure, so highly extolled in
the baptism of S. Peter, which appears shivering with cold, marks, as it
were, an era in the art. The garments, divested of minuteness, present a
few easy folds. The colouring is true, properly varied, delicate, and
surprisingly harmonious; the relief is in the grandest style. This
chapel was not finished by him. He died in 1443, not without suspicion
of poison, and left it still deficient in several pictures, which, after
many years were supplied by the younger Lippi. It became the school of
all the best Florentine artists whom we shall have occasion to notice in
this and the succeeding epoch, of Pietro Perugino, and even of
Raffaello; and it is a curious circumstance, that in the course of many
years, in a city fruitful in genius, ever bent on the promotion of the
art, no one in following the footsteps of Masaccio attained that
eminence which he acquired without a director. Time has defaced other
works of his hand at Florence, equally commended, and especially the
sanctuary of the church del Carmine, of which there is a drawing in the
possession of the learned P. Lettor Fontana Barnabita in Pavia. The
royal gallery has very few of his works. The portrait of a young man,
that seems to breathe, and is estimated at a high price, is in the Pitti
collection.

After Masaccio, two monks distinguished themselves in the Florentine
school. The first was a [Pg 76]Dominican friar named F. Giovanni da
Fiesole, or B. Giovanni Angelico. His first employment was that of
ornamenting books with miniatures, an art he learned from an elder
brother, who executed miniatures and other paintings. It is said that he
studied in the chapel of Masaccio, but it is not easy to credit this
when we consider their ages. Their style too betrays a different origin.
The works of the friar discover some traces of the manner of Giotto, in
the posture of the figures and the compensation for deficiencies in the
art, not to mention the drapery which is often folded in long tube-like
forms, and the exquisite diligence in minute particulars common to
miniature painters. Nor did he depart much from this method in the
greatest part of his works, which chiefly consist of scripture pieces of
our Saviour, or the Virgin, in cabinet pictures not unfrequently to be
met with in Florence. The royal gallery possesses several; the most
brilliant and highly finished of which, is the birth of John the
Baptist. The Glory,[71] which is in the church of
S. Mary Magdalen de’ Pazzi, from its great size, is among his rarest
productions; and it also ranks with the most beautiful. His chief
excellence consists in the beauty that adorns the countenances of his
saints and angels; and he is truly the Guido of the age, for the
sweetness of his colours, which, though in water, he diluted and blended
in a manner [Pg
77]which almost reaches perfection. He was also esteemed one
of the best of his age in works executed in fresco; and he was employed
in the decoration of the cathedral of Orvieto, as well as the palace of
the Vatican itself, where he painted a chapel—a work much
commended by a number of writers. Vasari enumerates Gentile da Fabriano
among his disciples, but the dates render this impossible; and says the
same of Zanobi Strozzi, a man of noble origin, of whom I do not know
that any certain picture exists in a public collection: I only know
that, treading in the steps of his master, he surpassed the reputation
of a mere amateur. Benozzo Gozzoli, another of his disciples, and an
imitator of Masaccio, raised himself far above the majority of his
contemporaries.

In a few points he even surpassed his model, as in the stupendous
size of his edifices, in the amenity of his landscapes, and in the
brilliancy of his fancy, truly lively, agreeable, and picturesque. In
the Riccardi palace, once a royal residence, there is a chapel in good
preservation, where he executed a Glory, a Nativity, and an Epiphany. He
there painted with a profusion of gold and of drapery, unexampled,
perhaps, in fresco; and with an adherence to nature that exhibits an
image of that age in the portraits, the garments, the accoutrements of
the horses, and in the most minute particulars. He long resided at Pisa,
and died there, where he ought to be studied; for his compositions in
that place are better than those at Florence, and he was [Pg 78]there
also more sparing in the use of gold. The portrait of S. Thomas Aquinas
is highly spoken of by Vasari and Richardson; but they especially notice
the pictures from scripture history, with which he ornamented a whole
wing of the Campo Santo, “a most prodigious work, sufficient to appal a
legion of painters;”[72] and he finished it within
two years. Here he displayed a talent for composition, an imitation of
nature, a variety in the countenances and attitudes, a colouring juicy,
lively, and clear, and an expression of the passions that places him
next to Masaccio. I can scarcely believe that he painted the whole. In
the Ebriety of Noah, in the Tower of Babel, and in some other pictures,
we discern an attempt at surprising, not to be seen in some others,
where figures sometimes occur that seem dry and laboured; defects which
I am disposed rather to attribute to his coadjutors. Near this great
work a monument is erected to his memory by a grateful city, in the
public name, with an epitaph that commends him as a painter. Time
itself, as if conscious of his merit, has respected this work beyond any
other in the Campo Santo.

The other monk was Filippo Lippi, a Carmelite, a genius of a
different stamp from B. Giovanni. He received his instruction, not from
Masaccio, as Vasari would have it, but from his works. His assiduity in
copying him, makes him sometimes appear a second Masaccio, especially in
small histories. [Pg 79]Some of his choicest are in the sacristy
of the church of S. Spirito. In that place, in the Church of S. Ambrose,
and elsewhere, his pictures represent the Virgin surrounded by angels,
with full and handsome countenances, distinguished by a colouring and a
gracefulness peculiarly his own. He delighted in drapery like the neat
folds of a surplice; his tints were very clear but delicate, and often
subdued by a purple hue not common to other painters. He introduced
gigantic proportions in his large frescos in the parish church of Prato;
where his pictures of S. Stephen and the Baptist were, in the opinion of
Vasari, his capital performances. His forsaking the convent, his slavery
in Barbary, his works at Naples, at Padua, and elsewhere, his death,
hastened by poison, administered by the relations of a young lady who
had borne him a natural child, likewise named Filippo Lippi, are
recorded by Vasari. P. della Valle is of opinion that he never
professed any order, but in the register of Carmine, his death is
noticed in the year 1469, and he is there denominated Fra Filippo. He
died at Spoleti when he had nearly completed his large picture for the
cathedral. Lorenzo the Magnificent requested his ashes from the
townsmen, but was refused; on which he caused a handsome monument to be
erected for him, with an inscription by Angelo Poliziano; a circumstance
I mention, to demonstrate the respect paid to the art at that period. F.
Diamante da Prato, the scholar of Lippi, and his assistant in [Pg 80]his
last work, imitated him well; as likewise did Francesco Pesello, a
Florentine of the same school; his son Pesellino, a short lived artist,
followed him with still greater success. The Epiphany of Francesco,
described by Vasari, in which there is a portrait of Donato Acciaiuoli,
is in the royal gallery. The grado, painted by his son for the
apartments of the novices of S. Croce, is there still: on this last are
the histories of S. Cosma and S. Damian, of S. Anthony, and S. Francis,
denominated by the historian most wonderful productions, and, perhaps,
this is not too much to say when we recollect the period.

About this time other able artists flourished at Florence, who were
obscured by greater names. Of this number was Berto Linaiuolo, whose
pictures in private houses were, for a long time, held in great repute.
They were even ordered by the King of Hungary, and procured him great
fame in that kingdom. Alessio Baldovinetti, of noble extraction, was a
painter particularly diligent and minute, a good worker in mosaic, and
the master of Ghirlandaio. In his picture of the Nativity in the porch
of the Nunziata, and in his other works, the design, rather than the
colouring, may now be said to remain; for the tints have vanished, from
a defect in their composition. To them we may add Verrocchio, a
celebrated statuary, a good designer, and a painter for amusement rather
than by profession. While he painted the Baptism of Christ at S. Salvi,
his scholar, L. da Vinci, then [Pg 81]a youth, finished an angel, in a manner
superior to the figures of his master, who, indignant at his own
inferiority to a boy, never more handled the pencil.

Baldinucci imagines that Andrea del Castagno, a name infamous in
history, was a scholar of Masaccio: he was rather his imitator, in
attitude, relief, and casting of the drapery, than in grace and
colouring. He lived at the time that the secret of painting in oil
(discovered by John Van Eych, or John of Bruges, about 1410),[73] was known in Italy, not only by report, but by
experience of the advantages of this method. Our artists, admiring the
harmony, delicacy, and brilliance, which colours received from this
discovery, sighed to possess the secret. For this purpose, one Antonello
[Pg
82]da Messina, who had studied at Rome, travelled to
Flanders, and having learned the secret, according to Vasari, from the
inventor, went to Venice, where he communicated it to a friend named
Domenico. After having practised much in his own country, at Loreto,[74] and other parts of the ecclesiastical states,
Domenico came to Florence. There he became the general favourite, and on
that account was envied by Castagna, whose dissembled friendship won him
to impart the secret, and rewarded him by an atrocious assassination,
which he perpetrated, in order that there might be none living to rival
him in the art. The assassin was sufficiently skilful to conceal his
crime, owing to which a number of innocent persons soon fell under
suspicion, which did not induce the real criminal to avow the atrocious
deed, until he lay upon his death-bed, when he disclosed his guilt and
did justice to the innocence of others. He had the reputation of being
the first artist of his time, for vigour, for design, and for
perspective, having perfected the art of foreshortening. His finest
works have perished: one of his pictures remains at S. Lucia de’
Magnuoli, and also some of his historic pieces, executed with great
diligence. There is also a Crucifixion, painted on a wall in the
monastery of the Angeli.

Many writers have appeared who deny the above mentioned statement of Vasari, and maintain
[Pg
83]that the art of painting in oil was known long before. It
is pretended that it existed in the time of the Romans, an opinion that
is adopted by Sig. Ranza, in regard to a picture said to be of S.
Helena, consisting of a quilting of different pieces of silk
stitched together, exhibiting a picture of the Virgin Saint with the
Infant. The heads and hands are coloured in oils; the drapery is shaded
with the needle, and in a great measure with the pencil. It is preserved
in Vercelli, and from the tradition of its citizens reported by Mabillon
(Diar. Ital. Cap. 28), it is said to be the work of S. Helena, mother of
Constantine; that is, the patches of silk were sewed by her, and the
gilding and painting added to it by her painter, as is conjectured by
Ranza. He was not aware that the practice of drawing the Infant Christ
in the lap of the Virgin (as we notice in the preface to the Roman
school), was posterior to the fourth century; and that other particulars
related by him of the picture cannot belong to the age of Constantine;
for instance, the hooded mantle of our Lady. From such signs we ought
rather to conclude that it is either not an oil painting, or that the
figure, at whatever period executed, has been retouched in the same way
as that of the Nunziata at Florence, or of the Santa Maria Primerana at
Fiesole; the former of which in the drapery, and the latter in the
lineaments, are not the same now as in their ancient state.

Others, without ascending to the first ages of the[Pg 84]
church, have asserted that oil painting was known out of Italy, at least
as early as the eleventh century. As a proof of this, they adduce a
manuscript of the Monk Teofilo or Ruggiero, no later back than that
period, which bears title, “De omni scientiâ artis pingendi,” where
there is a receipt for the preparation and use of oil from flax.[75] Lessing gave an account of this manuscript in
the year 1774, in a treatise published at Brunswick, where he filled the
office of librarian to the Prince. Morelli, also, in the Codici Naniani
(cod. 39); and more at length Raspe, in his critical “Dissertation on
Oil Painting,” published in the English language at London, in which he
enumerated the existing copies in various libraries, and gave a great
part of the manuscript, entered into an examination of the subject.
Lastly, Teofilo’s
treatise is inserted by Christiano Leist, in Lessing’s collection, “Zur
Geschichte unde Litteratur.” Brusw. 1781. The Dottore Aglietti, in his
Giornale Veneto, December, [Pg 85]1793, likewise adds his opinion; while
the learned Abbate Morelli, in his “Notizia,” which is often cited by me
in the emendation and illustration of this edition, throws the greatest
light upon the present question, agitated by so many, and, we may add,
“rem acu tetigit.” He, then, will be found to concede to Giovanni, whom
he calls Gianes da Brugia, the boast of this great discovery, agreeing
with Vasari, though in a different sense from that in which the latter
writer views it. For he does not reply to his opponents, that the art of
painting, as taught by Teofilo, might have gone into disuse, and was
only revived by Giovanni; whence Vasari ventured to commend him as an
original inventor; in the same manner as Tiraboschi replied, who
followed the Roman anthologists (St. Lett. t. vi. p. 1202). Neither does
he bring forward the defence advanced by the Baron de Budberg in the
apology of Gio. da Bruges,[76] to the purport that
Teofilo taught the art of painting in oil, only upon a ground, without
figures, and without ornaments: because Teofilo, in chap. 22, whose
words we have given in the note, likewise taught this art. Into what,
then, does the long-boasted invention of Giovanni resolve itself?
Nothing more than this: according to the ancient practice, a fresh
colour was never added to the panel until the first covering had been
dried in the sun: a mode, as [Pg 86]Teofilo confesses, infinitely tedious:
“quod in imaginibus diuturnum et tædiosum nimis est;” (cap. 23); to
which I may add, that the colours in this way could never perfectly
harmonize. Van Eych saw this difficulty, and he became more truly
sensible of it, from the circumstance of having exposed one of his
paintings to the sun, in order to harden, when the excess of heat split
the panel. Being at that period sufficiently skilled both in
philosophical and philological inquiries, he began to speculate on the
manner of applying oils, and of their acquiring a proper consistency
without the aid of the sun. “By uniting it with other mixtures he next
produced a varnish, which, dried, was water proof, and gave a clearness
and brilliancy, while it added to the harmony of his colours.” Such are
the words of Vasari; and thus, in a very few words, we may arrive at a
satisfactory solution of the question. Before the time of Van Eych, some
sort of method of painting in oil was known, but so extremely tedious
and imperfect, as to be scarcely applicable to the production of figure
pieces. It was practised beyond the Alps, but is not known to have been
in use in Italy. Giovanni carried the first discovery to its completion;
he perfected the art, which was afterwards diffused over all Europe, and
introduced into Italy, by means of Antonio, or Antonello da Messina.

Here again we are met by another class of objectors, who enter the
lists against Van Eych, [Pg 87]against Antonello, and more decidedly
against Vasari, not with arguments from books, but in the strength of
pictorial skill, and chemical experiments.

Malvasia, upon the authority of Tiarini, maintains, that Lippo
Dalmasio painted in oil; the Neapolitans, relying upon Marco da Siena,
and other men of skill, assert the same of their artists in the
thirteenth century; while a few have pretended that some of the
pictures[77] produced in the fourteenth
century, to be seen at Siena and Modena, in particular that from the
hand of Tommaso da Modena, belonging to the Imperial cabinet, and
described by me in the native school of that artist, are also coloured
in oil; because, after being exposed to water, and analyzed, the colours
discovered their elements, and were pronounced oil. In spite, however,
of so much skill, and so many experiments, I cannot see that Vasari has
yet been detected in an error. It would not be difficult to oppose other
experiments and opinions, that might throw light upon the question. To
begin with Tuscany:—an analysis of several Tuscan paintings was
made at Pisa by the very able chemist Bianchi; [Pg 88]and though apparently
coloured in oil, the most lucid parts were found to give out particles
of wax; a material employed in the encausti, and not forgotten by
the Greeks, who instructed Giunta and his contemporaries. It would
appear that they applied it as a varnish, to act as a covering and
protection from humidity, as well as to give a lucid hue and polish to
the colours. It has been observed, that the proportion of wax employed
greatly decreased during the fourteenth century; and after the year 1360
fell into disuse, and was succeeded by a vehicle, that carries no gloss.
But in these experiments oil was never elicited, if we except a few
drops of essential oil, which the learned professor conjectures was
employed at that early period to dissolve the wax made use of in
painting.

Besides this material, certain gums, and yolks of eggs, which easily
deceive the eye of the less skilful, were also used, and very nearly
resemble those pictures that display a scanty portion of oil, as is
observed by Zanetti, in his account of Venetian painting (p. 20); and
the analysis of Tommaso da Modena’s picture has tended to confirm his
opinion. This information I owe to the late Count Durazzo, who, in 1793,
assured me, when at Venice, that he had himself beheld, at Vienna, the
process of analyzing such pictures, by very skilful hands, at the
command, and in the presence of Prince Kaunitz; and that it was the
unanimous opinion of those professors, that no traces of oil were to be
found. [Pg
89]The colours consisted of the finest gums, mixed with the
yolk and white of eggs, a fact that afforded just ground for a like
conclusion in regard to similar works by the ancients. I fully
appreciate, likewise, the opinion of Piacenza upon the celebrated
picture of Colantonio; this I reserve, however, together with some
further reflections of my own, for the school of Naples.

I shall here merely inform the reader, that, in regard to the
chemical experiments employed on these paintings, Sig. da Morrona[78] observes, that old pictures are often believed
to be in a state of purity, when they have been retouched with oil
colours at a subsequent period: the use of wax, and of essential oils,
or of some such old methods, may frequently give rise to doubt, as I
shall soon shew.

Having removed the objections brought against the opinion of Vasari,
I must add a few words in regard to a passage where he seems to have
forgotten what he had said in the life of Angiol Gaddi, but which will
in fact throw further light upon the question. He is giving an account
of the paintings and writings of Andrea Cennini, a scholar of Angelo.
This person, in 1437, that is, long before the arrival of Domenico,
composed a work on painting, which is preserved in MS. in the library of
S. Lorenzo. He there treated, says Vasari, of grinding colours with oil,
for making red, blue, and green grounds; and [Pg 90]various new methods and
sizes for gilding, but not figures. Baldinucci examined the same
manuscript, and found these words in the 89th chapter:—”I wish to
teach thee how to paint in oil on walls, or on panel, as practised by
many Germans;” and on consulting the manuscript, I find, after that
passage, “and by the same method on iron and on marble; but I shall
first treat of painting on walls.” In the succeeding chapters he says,
that this must be accomplished “by boiling linseed oil.” This appears
not to accord with the assertion of Vasari, that John of Bruges, after
many experiments, “discovered that linseed oil and nut oil were the most
drying. When boiled with his other ingredients they formed the varnish
so long sought after by him and all other painters.” On weighing the
evidence, we should, in my opinion, take three circumstances into
consideration: The first is, that Vasari does not deny that oil was
employed in painting; since he affirms that it was long a desideratum,
and consequently had been often attempted; but that alone is perfect
which, “when dry, resists water; which brightens the colours, makes them
clear, and perfectly unites them.” 2. The oil of Cennini might not be of
this sort, either because it was not boiled with the ingredients of Van
Eych, or because it was intended only for coarse work; a circumstance
rendered probable by the fact, that though he painted the Virgin, with
several Saints, in the hospital of Bonifazio, at Florence, “in a good
style of colouring,” yet he never[Pg 91] excited the admiration
nor the envy of artists. 3. The above remarks forbid us to give implicit
confidence to every relation that is given of ancient oil pictures; but
we are not blindly to reject all accounts of imperfect attempts of that
nature. After this digression we return to our narrative.

The painters that remain to be noticed, approach the golden age of
the art, of which their works in some degree participate,
notwithstanding the dryness of their design, and the general want of
harmony in their colouring. The vehicle of their colours was commonly
water, very rarely oil. They flourished in the time of Sixtus IV., who,
having erected the magnificent chapel that retains his name, invited
them from Florence. Their names are Botticelli, Ghirlandaio, Rosselli,
Luca da Cortona, and D. Bartolommeo d’Arezzo; whom I shall here
introduce, together with their followers. Manni, the historian of some
of these artists,[79] conjectures that this work
was executed about the year 1474. They were desired to pourtray the
history of Moses on one part of the chapel, and that of Christ on the
other: thus the old law was confronted by the new, the shade by the
light, and the type by the person typified. The pontiff was unskilled in
the fine arts, but covetous of the glory they confer on the name and
actions of princes. To superintend the work, he made choice of Sandro
Filipepi, from his first master, a goldsmith, surnamed Botticelli, and
the pupil of F. Filippo; a [Pg 92]celebrated artist at that time, and
distinguished by his pictures containing a great number of small figures
in which he strongly resembled Andrea Mantegna; though his heads were
less beautiful. Vasari says, that his little picture of the Calumny of
Apelles, is as fine a production as possible, and he pronounces the
Assumption, painted for the church of S. Pier Maggiore, to be so
excellent, that it ought to silence envy. The former is in the royal
gallery, the latter in a private house. What he painted in the Sistine
Chapel, however, surpasses all his other works. Here we scarcely
recognize Sandro of Florence. The Temptation of Christ, embellished with
a magnificent temple, and a crowd of devotees in the vestibule; Moses assisting the
daughters of Jethro against the Midianite shepherds, in which there is
great richness of drapery, coloured in a new manner; and other subjects,
treated with vigour and originality, exhibit him in this place greatly
superior to his usual manner. The same observation applies to the
painters we are about to notice: such were the effects produced by their
emulation; by the sight of a city that is calculated to enlarge the
ideas of those who visit it, and by the judgment of a public that is
scarcely to be satisfied by what is above mediocrity, because its eye is
habituated to what is wonderful.

History does not point out the portion of this work that was
performed by Filippino Lippi; the son, as we have already observed, of
F. Filippo. It is however highly probable that he assisted; because
[Pg
93]he was his father’s pupil from a very early age, and
because the taste of Lippi, that delighted in portraying the usages of
antiquity in his pictures, appears to have been formed while he was
still young, and engaged in his studies at Rome. In the life which
Cellini has written of himself, he tells us that he had seen several
books of antiquities drawn by Lippi; and Vasari gives him credit for
being the first who decorated modern paintings by the introduction of
grotesques, trophies, armour, vases, edifices and drapery, copied from
the models of antiquity; but this I cannot confirm, because it was
before attempted by Squarcione. It is true that he excelled in those
ornaments, in his landscape and in minute particulars. The S. Bernard of
the Abbey, the Magi of the royal museum, and the two frescos in S. Maria
Novella; the one the history of S. John, the other of S. Philip, the
apostles, please more perhaps by these accessaries of the art than by
the countenances, which, indeed, have not the beauty and grace of the
elder Lippi. They are faithful portraits, but shew no discrimination. He
was invited to Rome to ornament a chapel of the Minerva, in which there
is an Assumption by his hand, and some histories of Thomas Aquinas,
amongst which the Disputation is the best. In this chapel he shews great
improvement in his heads, but was nevertheless surpassed in this respect
by his pupil Raffaellino del Garbo, who painted a choir of angels on the
ceiling, that would alone suffice to justify the[Pg 94] name by which he was
distinguished. In Monte Oliveto at Florence, there is a Resurrection by
Raffaellino, where the figures are small, but so graceful withal, so
correct in attitude, and so finely coloured, that we can scarcely rank
him inferior to any master of that age. There is mention made by the
learned Moreni, in the concluding part of his “Memorie Istoriche,” (p.
168) of another of his beautiful altar-pieces, still in existence at S.
Salvi, with the grado entire. Some early pictures are in a similar
state; but becoming the father of a numerous family, he gradually
degenerated in his style, and died in poverty and obscurity.

The second whom I have mentioned among the artists in the Sistine
Chapel, is Domenico Corradi, surnamed Del Ghirlandaio, from the
profession of his father.[80] He was a painter, an
excellent worker in mosaic, and even contributed to the improvement of
these arts. He painted in the Sistine Chapel the Resurrection of Christ,
which has perished; and the Call of S. Peter and S. Andrew, which still
remains. He is that Ghirlandaio, in whose school, or on whose manner,
not only Ridolfo del Ghirlandaio, his son, but also Bonarruoti, and the
best artists of the succeeding era, formed their style. He possessed
clearness and purity of outline, correctness of form, and variety of
ideas, together with facility and uncommon diligence; he [Pg 95]was
the first Florentine, who, by means of true perspective, attained a
happy method of grouping, and depth of composition.[81] He
was among the first to reject the deep golden fringes to the drapery,
that the old masters introduced; who, unable to render their figures
beautiful, endeavoured, at least, to make them gaudy. Some of his
pictures, however, yet remain, moderately illuminated with gold; as for
instance, the Epiphany in the church of the Innocents at Florence. It is
a fine work, as is also his chapel in the Holy Trinity, with the actions
of S. Francis, and his Nativity, in the sacristy of that church. His
most celebrated work is the choir of S. Maria Novella, on one side of
which he designed the history of John the Baptist, on the other that of
our Lady, and on another part the murder of the Innocents, so much
commended by Vasari. It contains a vast many portraits of literary men,
and noble citizens, and almost every head is from the life; but they are
dignified, and judiciously selected. The hands and feet of the figures,
however, do not correspond, and attention to this circumstance is the
peculiar merit of Andrea del Sarto, who seems to have carried the manner
of Ghirlandaio to perfection. Many works of the latter are scattered
over Italy, in Rome, in Rimini, and at Pisa, at the Eremitani di Pietra
Santa, and the Camaldolesi of Volterra; where besides the paintings in
the refectory, there is in the church a figure of S. Romualdo,[Pg 96]
carved by Diana of Mantua. The pictures of this master should not be
confounded with those of his scholars, as happens in many instances.
Thus the holy families painted by his brothers or his scholars,
frequently pass for his; but they are very far from meriting the praise
we have justly bestowed on him. Davide, one of his brothers, became very
eminent in mosaic; another, Benedetto, painted more in France than in
Italy; Bastiano Mainardi, their brother-in-law, was rather the assistant
of Domenico, than a painter of originality. Baldino Bandinelli, Niccolo
Cieco, Jacopo del Tedesco, and Jacopo Indaco, are little known; except
that the last is recorded as having assisted with Pinturicchio, at Rome,
and was the brother of Francesco, better known as a painter at
Montepulciano than in Florence.

Cosimo Rosselli, whose noble family has produced several other
artists, also wrought in the Sistine Chapel. Few of his works remain in
public places in his own country, besides the miracle of the sacrament
in the church of S. Ambrose, a fresco picture, full of portraits; in
which we discover variety, character, and truth. Vasari praises his
labours at Rome, less than those of his fellow artists. Being unable to
rival his competitors in design, he loaded his pictures with brilliant
colours and gilded ornaments, which, though it was at that time
condemned by an improving taste, yet pleased the pontiff, who commended
and rewarded him beyond all the other artists. Perhaps his best work
there, is Christ [Pg 97]preaching on the mount, in which the
landscape is said to be the work of Pier di Cosimo, a painter likewise
more remarkable for his colouring than his design; as is evident from a
picture in the church of the Innocents, and his Perseus in the royal
gallery. They are both, however, celebrated in history; the one as the
master of del Porta, the other of Andrea del Sarto.

No other Florentine was employed to paint in the Sistine Chapel; but
Piero and Antonio Pollaiuoli, who were both statuaries and painters,
came there not long afterwards and wrought in bronze the tomb of Sixtus
IV. Some of their paintings may yet be seen in the church of S. Miniato,
without the walls of Florence, and the altar-piece was transferred to
the royal museum. We may there trace the school of Castagno, the master
of Piero, in the harsh features, coloured in a strong and juicy manner.
Antonio, the scholar of Piero, became one of the best painters of that
age. In the chapel of the Marchesi Pucci, at the church of St.
Sebastiano de’ Servi, there is a martyrdom of the saint by him, which is
one of the best pictures of the fifteenth century I have ever seen. The
colouring is not in the best style; but the composition rises above the
age in which he lived, and the drawing of the naked figure shews what
attention he had bestowed on anatomy. He was the first Italian painter
who dissected bodies in order to learn the true situations of the
tendons and muscles. Both the Pollaiuoli died at Rome, where [Pg 98]their
tomb is to be seen in S. Piero in Vincoli, ornamented with a picture,
which, according to some, typifies a soul in purgatory, and the efficacy
of indulgences to deliver it; but whether it is by them, or of their
school, I am unable to determine.

The two following artists were brought to the Sistine Chapel from the
Florentine territory, the painters of which I shall now consider after
those of the capital. Luca Signorelli, the kinsman of Vasari of Arezzo,
and the disciple of Piero della Francesca, was a spirited and expressive
painter, and one of the first Tuscan artists who designed figures with a
true knowledge of anatomy, though somewhat dryly. The cathedral of
Orvieto evinces this; and those naked figures which even Michelangiolo
has not disdained to imitate. Although in most of his works we do not
discover a proper choice of form, nor a sufficient harmony of colouring
in some of them, especially in the communion of the Apostles, painted
for the Jesuits in his native city, there is beauty, grace, and tints
approaching to modern excellence. He painted in Urbino, at Volterra,
Florence, and many other cities. In the Sistine Chapel he painted the
Journey of Moses with Sefora, and the Promulgation of the Old Law,
paintings full of incident, and superior in composition to the confused
style of that age. Vasari and Taia have assigned him the first place in
this great assemblage of artists; to me he seems at least to have
equalled the best of them, and to have improved on his usual style. He
had two countrymen of noble families for pupils;[Pg 99] Tommaso Bernabei, who
followed him closely, and has left some works in S. M. del Calcinaio,
and Turpino Zaccagna, whose style was different, as appears from a
picture painted for the Church of S. Agatha in Cantalena near Cortona,
in 1537.

Don Bartolommeo della Gatta executed none of his own designs in the
Sistine Chapel; he lent assistance to Signorelli and to Perugino. He had
been educated in the monastery of the Angeli, at Florence, rather as a
painter of miniatures than of history. On being appointed Abbot of S.
Clement, in Arezzo, he exercised both; and was also skilled in music and
in architecture. There is of his works only a S. Jerome, executed in the
chapel of the cathedral, as we find from a MS. guide to the city, and
which was transferred into the sacristy in 1794. The abbot instructed
Domenico Pecori and Matteo Lappoli, two gentlemen of Arezzo, who
improved themselves in the art on other models, especially the first, as
is evident from a picture in the parish church, in which the Virgin
receives under her mantle the people of Arezzo, who are recommended to
her protection by their patron saints. In it are heads in the style of
Francia, good architecture, judicious composition, and a moderate use of
gold.

Two miniature painters, according to Vasari, learned much from the
precepts, or rather from the example of the abbot. These were Girolamo,
also named by Ridolfi, as a pupil of the Paduan school, at the same time
with Lancilao; and Vante, or as [Pg 100]he subscribed himself, Attavante
Fiorentino. Two of his letters are inserted in the third volume of the
Lettere Pittoriche; and it may be collected from Vasari and
Tiraboschi,[82] that Vante ornamented with
miniatures many books for Matthias, king of Hungary, which afterwards
remained in the Medicean and Estensean libraries. The learned Sig. Ab.
Morelli, who has the direction of the library of S. Mark at Venice,
shewed me one in that place. It is a work of Marziano Capella, where the
subject is poetically expressed by the painter. The assembly of the
Gods, the emblems of the arts and sciences, the grotesque ornaments here
and there set off with little portraits, discover in Vante a genius that
admirably seconded the ideas of the author. The design resembles the
best works of Botticelli; the colouring is gay, lively, and brilliant;
the excellence of the work ought to confer on the artist greater
celebrity than he enjoys. In the life of D. Bartolommeo, Vasari, or his
printers, have confounded Attavante with Gherardo, the miniature
painter, who at the same time was a worker in mosaic, an engraver in the
style of Albert Durer, and a painter; of him there are some remains in
each of these arts; but they were certainly different individuals, as is
demonstrated by Sig. Piacenza.

Having a little before named Pietro Perugino, who long taught in
Tuscany, we may here mention [Pg 101]the pupils who retained his manner.
These were Rocco Zoppo, whose Madonnas remain in many private houses in
Florence, I believe, to this day, and are in the manner of Pietro;
Baccio Ubertini, a great colourist, and on that account willingly
adopted as an assistant of his master; Francesco, the brother of Baccio,
surnamed Bacchiacca, known at S. Lorenzo by the martyrdom of S.
Arcadius, executed in small figures, in which, as well as in the
grotesque, he was very eminent, and nearly approached the modern style.
To these artists who lived in Florence, their native country, we may add
Niccolo Soggi, likewise a Florentine, but who, to shun the concourse of
more able painters, fixed his residence in Arezzo, where he had
sufficient employment. His accuracy, his studious habits, and his high
finish, may be there contemplated in the Christ in the Manger, in the
church of Madonna delle Lagrime, and in many other places in the city
and its environs. It would have been fortunate had he possessed more
genius, but this gift of nature, which, to use the words of a poet,[83] confers immortality on books, and I would add
pictures, was not granted to Soggi. Vasari has given this character of a
diligent, but meagre, and frigid painter, also to Gerino da Pistoia, in
which place one of his pictures, now in the royal gallery, was painted
for the monks of S. Pier Maggiore; several others are in the city of S.
Sepulcro, and [Pg
102]some even in Rome, where he assisted Pinturicchio. With
the two preceding, I class Montevarchi, a painter so named from his own
country, beyond which he is almost unknown. Among these artists, though
they were scholars of Pietro, we find imitators of the Florentines of
the fourteenth century. I omit the name of Bastiano da S. Gallo, who
continued with him only a short time, and left him on account of the
aversion he had conceived to the dryness of his style. In the Florentine
history, by Varchi (book 10), we find mention of a Vittorio di
Buonaccorso Ghiberti, who on occasion of the siege of Florence by the
family of the Medici, in 1529, painted the figure of the Pontiff,
Clement VII. on the façade of the principal chamber of the Medici, in
the last act of hanging from the gallows. But neither of this, nor of
any other production from so infamous a hand, do there remain any traces
in Florence, at least that I have been able to discover, from which to
judge either of the manner or the master of Vittorio.

I close the catalogue of old Tuscan painters with an illustrious
native of Lucca, named the elder Zacchia, who was educated at Florence,
though not invariably adhering to the taste of that ancient school,
either in design, which was his chief excellence, or in an outline
somewhat harsh and cutting, which was his greatest defect. He obtained
the name of the elder, to distinguish him from another Zacchia, who, on
the other hand, shewed more softness of contour, and more strength of
colouring, [Pg
103]but in design, and in every other respect, was held in
less estimation. I know only of one picture by the latter artist, which
is in the chapel of the Magistrates; but several altar-pieces by the
former, are to be seen in the churches of Lucca, and among them an
Assumption in that of S. Augustine; a picture displaying much study and
elegance, and among his last works, as I am led to believe by its
bearing the date 1527. One of his Madonnas, surrounded by saints,
formerly in the parish church of S. Stefano, is now in the house of Sig.
March. Jacopo Sardini, which is enriched by other paintings, by a
valuable collection of drawings, and still more by the presence of its
learned possessor, to whom I am indebted for many notices interspersed
throughout this work.

Such was the state of the art in Tuscany, about the beginning of the
sixteenth century. Much was then attained, because nature began to be
imitated, especially in the heads, to which the artists imparted a
vivacity, that even at this day is surprising. On viewing the figures
and portraits of those times, they actually appear to look at, and to
desire to enter into conversation with the beholder. It still remained,
however, to give ideal beauty to the figure, fulness to design, and
harmony to colouring, a true method to aerial perspective, variety to
composition, and freedom to the pencil, which on the whole was still
timid. Every circumstance conspired to this melioration of the art in
Florence as well as in other places. The taste [Pg 104]for magnificent
edifices had revived throughout Italy. Many of the finest churches, many
public edifices, and ducal palaces, which still remain at Milan, Mantua,
and Venice, in Urbino, Rimini, Pesaro, and Ferrara, were executed about
this period; not to mention those buildings in Florence and in Rome,
where magnificence contended with elegance. It became necessary to
ornament them, and this produced that noble emulation among artists,
that grand fermentation of ideas, which invariably advances the progress
of art. The study of poetry, so analogous to that of painting, had
increased to a degree which conferred on the whole age the epithet of
Golden; a name which it certainly did not merit on the score of
more severe studies. The design of the artists of that period, though
something dry, was yet pure and correct, and afforded the best
instruction to the succeeding age. It is very justly observed, that
scholars can more easily give a certain fulness to the meagre outline of
their models, than curtail the superfluity of a heavy contour. On this
account, some professors of the art are inclined to believe, that it
would be much more advantageous to habituate students in the beginning,
to the precision characteristic of the fifteenth century, than to the
exuberance introduced in after-times. Such circumstances produced the
happiest era that distinguishes the annals of painting. The schools of
Italy, owing to mutual imitation, before that period strongly resembled
each other; but having then attained [Pg 105]maturity, each began to
display a marked and peculiar character.

That of the Florentine school I shall describe in the next Epoch; but
I first propose to treat of several other arts analogous to that of
painting, and in particular of engraving upon copper, the discovery of
which is ascribed to Florence. To this the art is indebted for an
accession of new aids; the work of an artist, before confined to a
single spot, was diffused through the world, and gratified the eyes of
thousands.

[61]
“The number of artists of whom, by consulting old authors, I can collect
nothing more than the time they lived, their name and occupation, and
their death, (I speak of those who lived about the year 1300,) amounts
in the city of Florence alone to nearly a hundred, without including
those who have been discovered and noticed by some of our antiquarians;
and exclusive of those we find mentioned in the old book of the Society
of Painters.” (See Baldinucci in Notizie del Gioggi.) The Florentine
painters of this age, whose names have been produced by the Canon Moreni
from the records of the diplomatic archive, may be seen in part the
fourth of his Notizie Istoriche, p. 102. Others have been
collected and communicated to me by the Abbate Vincenzo Follini,
Librarian to the Magliabecchi collection, extracted from various MSS. of
the same, besides those from the Novelle Litterarie of Florence,
from the Delizie de’ Letter. of the P. Ildefonso, C. S. and from
the Viaggi of Targioni; works which will always be found to
supply the brevity of the present history.

[62]
Vasari.

[63]
They are believed to be anterior to the year 1300 by the historian of
the art of Painting at Friuli; but to this I cannot agree. The pictures
bear a very great resemblance to the designs of Orcagna; or rather to
the poetry of Dante, who, in the year above mentioned, feigns to have had his vision, and described
it in the years immediately succeeding. In confirmation of this opinion,
it must be remarked that the style is Florentine, and induces us to
suppose that a painter of that school must have been there. See
Lettera postuma del P. Cortinovis sopra le Antichità di Sesto,
published in the Giornale Veneto, (or Memorie per servire all’
Istoria Letter. e Civile) Semestre ii. p. 1. of the year 1800. It
was reprinted at Udine in 1801, in octavo, with some excellent notes by
the Cav. Antonio Bartolini, who has distinguished himself by other
productions connected with bibliography and the fine arts.

[64]
Vide Giuseppe Maria Mecatti, who has given an exact description of
it.

[65]
Vasari is by no means so bitter against the Venetian school as it is
wished to make him appear. In regard to these pictures he declares,
“that they are universally admitted, with justice, to be the best which
were produced among many excellent masters, at different times, in that
place.” They are, therefore, preferred by him to the whole of the
Florentine and Siennese paintings there exhibited; and his opinion is
authorized by that of P. della Valle, who frequently differs from him.
If it could be proved from history, as it may be reasonably conjectured,
that Antonio was a painter when he came from Venice, and did not
commence his art at Florence, he would merit the reputation of being the
greatest artist of that school known to us; as well as of having
conferred some benefit upon that of Florence, from the Venetian school.
But this point is very doubtful.

[66]
We cannot reconcile it to dates that Paolo Uccello was one of his
scholars, having been born after the death of Antonio, if, indeed, there
be not some error in regard to the chronology either of the master or of
his pupil. Starnina might have been his pupil, as he is said to have
been born in 1354; and, therefore, in 1370, he might possibly be one of
his school. Yet it appears that Antonio had then renounced the easel. In
his epitaph we find written:

(See Vasari ed. Senese, tom. ii. p. 297.)

[67]
The old painters varied the manner of their superscriptions, even in the
following ages, according to the taste of the Greeks. Sebastianus
Venetus pingebat a. 1520; is written upon a St. Agatha in the
Palazzo Pitti; and this corresponds to the
ΕΠΟΙΕΙ, faciebat; by which the
Greek sculptors wished to convey, that such work was not intended to
exhibit their last effort; so that they were at liberty to improve it
when they pleased. The subscription of Opus Belli is obvious, and
similar ones, drawn from the ΕΡΓΟΝ, (for
example,) ΛΥΣΡΡΟΥ which we see in
Maffei. I recount in my fifth book as singular, the epigraph Sumus
Rogerii manus; it is, however, derived from the Greeks, who, for
instance, sometimes wrote ΧΕΙΡ.
ΑΜΒΡΟΣΙΟΥ.
ΜΟΝΑΧΟΥ, as I read in a Fabrianese
church called Della Carità, where there is a picture of the General
Judgment; the figures very small, and highly finished, upon a large
tablet; with, I think, more figures than are seen in the Paradise of
Tintoretto. ΧΕΙΡ
ΒΙΤΟΡΕ, was written by Vittor Carpaccio,
under his portrait cited in the index. I omit other forms better known.
That adopted at Trevigi, Hieronymus Tarvisio, is very erudite;
and it is imitated from the military latercoli, in which, with
the same view, the soldier and his country are named. In short, where
the words fecit or pinxit are not used, the best plan was
that of giving the proper name in the genitive case at the foot of the
picture, as the engravers of Greek gems were wont to do in inscriptions,
as ΑΥΛΟΥ
ΔΙΟΣΚΟΡΙΔΟΥ,
&c.

[68]
Pascoli, tom. i. p. 199.

[69]
Vasari.

[70]
Verona Illustrata, tom. iii. p. 277.

[71]
Gloria is a name given in Italy to a representation of the celestial
regions.

[72]
Vasari.

[73]
In the dictionary of Guarienti, in the article, Gio. Abeyk, appears an
account of a picture of this artist, existing in the gallery at Dresden,
bearing date 1416; a time, says the writer, when he enjoyed his highest
reputation, by painting in his second manner, in oil. It represents the
Virgin in a majestic seat with the divine infant, who is seen very
gracefully receiving an apple from St. Anne, seated on a couch of straw.
The young St. John is seen assisting, and also St. Joseph, whose
countenance represents the portrait of the painter himself. The
introduction of arms shews that the picture must have been executed for
some distinguished person. It is in high preservation, and is pronounced
by Guarienti the miracle of painting, from its display of extreme
diligence, even in the minute furniture, and particularly because the
chamber in which the scene is represented, the couch, the window, the
pavement, executed a punto alto, together with the whole action,
are conducted with the most exact rules of perspective.

[74]
In 1454 he was in great credit at Perugia. (See Mariotti, Lett. Perug.
p. 133.)

[75]
Lib. i. c. 18. Accipe semen lini, et exsicca illud in sartagine super
ignem sine aqua, &c. Brustolato says, it should be pounded, and
again subjected to the fire in water, then put into a press between
cloths, and the oil extracted. He continues: Cum hoc oleo tere minium
sive cenobrium super lapidem sine aqua, et cum pincello linies super
ostia vel tabulas quas rubricare volueris, et ad solem siccabis, deinde
iterum linies et siccabis. And in chap. 22, he says,—Accipe
colores quos imponere volueris, terens eos diligenter, oleo lini sine
aqua; et fac mixturas vultuum ac vestimentorum sicut superius aqua
feceras, et bestias, sive aves, aut folia, variabis suis coloribus prout
libuerit.

[76]
Gottingen, 1792. See Esprit des Journaux, Ottobre, 1792.

[77]
Raspe (Lib. Cit.). Della Valle (Ann. al Vasari, tom. iii.
p. 313). Tiraboschi (St. Lett. tom. vi. p. 407). Vernazza
(Giorn. Pisano, tom. xciv. p. 220), cited by Morelli
(Notizia, p. 114). More recently is added the authority of P.
Federici Domenicano. It is absurd to suppose that Tommaso da Modena, or,
according to him, da Trevigi, carried the discovery from this city into
Germany, from whence it was subsequently communicated to Flanders.

[78]
Pisa Illustrata, p. 160, et seq.

[79]
See Opuscoli del Calogerà, tom. xlv.

[80]
This person invented and fabricated an ornament called ghirlanda or
garland, worn on the heads of the Florentine children.

[81]
Mengs, tom. ii. p. 109.

[82]
Tom. vi. p. 1204.

[83]
Victurus genium debet habere liber. Martial.

FLORENTINE SCHOOL.

EPOCH I.

SECTION III.

The subject of which I propose here to treat, ought to be
more carefully examined than any other portion of this work. The age in
which I write is, we know, by many called the age of brass, inasmuch as
it has been less productive of great names and great pictoric works,
than the preceding; yet I believe we might better denominate it such
from the number of engravings, which have recently been carried to a
high degree of excellence. The number of their connoisseurs has
increased beyond calculation; new collections every where appear, and
the prices have proportionably advanced, while treatises upon the art
are [Pg
106]rapidly multiplied. It has become a part of liberal
knowledge to discern the name and hand of a master, as well as to
specify the most beautiful works of each engraver. Thus, during the
decline of painting, the art of engraving on copper has risen in
estimation; modern artists in some points equal or surpass the more
ancient; their reputation, their remuneration, and the quick process of
their labours, attract the regard of many men of genius born to adorn
the arts, who to the loss of painting, devote their attention to the
graver.

The origin of this art is to be sought for in that of cutting on
wood, just as in printing, the use of wooden types led to the adoption
of metal. The period of the first invention of wood engraving is
unknown; the French and the Germans tracing it to that of playing-cards,
which the former affirm were first used in France in the time of Charles
V.; while the latter maintain they were in use much earlier in Germany,
or before the year 1300.[84] Both these opinions were
first attacked by Papillon, in his “Treatise upon cutting in Wood,”
where he claims the merit of the discovery for Italy, and finds the most
ancient traces of the art about the year 1285, at Ravenna. His account
of it is republished in the preface to the fifth volume of Vasari,
printed at Siena; but it is mixed up with so [Pg 107]many assertions, to
which it is difficult to give credit, that I must decline considering it
at all. The Cav. Tiraboschi is a far more plausible and judicious
advocate in favour of Italy.[85] On
the subject of cards, he brings forward a MS. by Sandro di Pippozzo di
Sandro, entitled Trattato del Governo della Famiglia. It was
written in 1299, and has been cited by the authors of the Della Cruscan
dictionary, who quote, among other passages, the following words: “if
you will play for money, or thus, or at cards, you shall provide them,”
&c. We may hence infer, that playing-cards were known with us
earlier than elsewhere, so that if the invention of stamping upon wood
was derived from them, we have a just title to the discovery. In all
probability, however, it does not date its origin so early; the oldest
playing-cards were doubtless the work of the pen, and coloured by the
old illuminators, first practised in France, and not wholly extinct in
Italy at the time of Filippo Maria Visconti, duke of Milan.[86]

The first indication we meet with of printed play-cards, is in a
public decree issued at Venice in 1441; where it says that “the art and
trade of cards and printed figures, that is carried on at Venice,” was
on the decline, “owing to the great increase of playing-cards with
coloured figures stamped,” which were introduced from abroad; and [Pg 108]that
such importation should be prohibited for the future. Sig. Zanetti, to
whom we are indebted for this information,[87] is
of opinion, that they were in use long before 1441; because the art is
seen to have first flourished there, afterwards to have fallen into
disuse, and again revived, owing to the protection afforded it by the
State. These vicissitudes, that suppose the lapse of many years, will
carry us back at least to the commencement of the fifteenth century. To
this period, it appears, we ought to refer those ancient specimens of play-cards, which
were collected for the cabinet of Count Giacomo Durazzo, formerly
imperial ambassador at Venice, and are now to be seen in that of the
Marquis Girolamo, his nephew. They are of larger dimensions than those
now in use, and are of a very strong texture, not unlike that of the
paper made of cotton, found in the ancient manuscripts. The figures are
exhibited on a gold ground in the manner before described;[88] there are three kings, two queens, and two
knaves, one on horseback; and each has a club, or sword, or money. I
could perceive no trace of suits, either because they had not then come
into use, or more probably because so limited a number of cards can
convey no complete idea of the whole game. The design approaches very
nearly to that of Jacobello del Fiore; to the best judges the
workmanship appears the effect of printing, the colours being given by
perforations [Pg
109]in the die. I know of no other more ancient specimen of
its kind.

In the meanwhile printing of books being introduced into Italy, it
was quickly followed by the practice of ornamenting them with figures in
wood. The Germans had afforded examples of cutting sacred images in this
material,[89] and the same was done in
regard to some of the initial letters during the early progress of
typography, a discovery which was extended at Rome, in a book published
in 1467, and at Verona in another, with the date of 1472. The former
contains the Meditations of Card. Turrecremata, with figures also cut in
wood, and afterwards coloured: the latter bears the title of Roberti
Valturii opus de re militari, and it is adorned with a number of
figures, or drawings of machines, fortifications, and assaults; a very
rare work, in the possession of Count Giuseppe Remondini, along with
many other specimens of the earliest period, collected for his private
library, where I saw it. It is worth remarking, that the book of
Turrecremata was printed by Ulderico Han, that of Valturio by Gio. da
Verona, and that in this last the wood-cuts are ascribed to Matteo
Pasti, [Pg
110]the friend of Valturio, and a good painter for those
times.[90] After this first progress the art of wood
engraving continued gradually to advance, and was cultivated by many
distinguished men, such as Albert Durer in Germany; in Italy by
Mecherino di Siena, by Domenico delle Greche, by Domenico Campagnola,
and by others down to Ugo da Carpi, who marks a new epoch in this art,
by an invention, of which we shall speak in the school of Modena.

If it be the progress of the human mind to advance from the more easy
to more difficult discoveries, we may venture to suppose that the art of
engraving on wood led to that of engraving on copper; and so, to a
certain extent, it probably did. Vasari, however, who wrote the history
of Tuscan professors, rather than of painting itself, refers its origin
to works in niello, or inlaid modelling work, a very ancient art,
much in use, more especially at Florence, during the fifteenth century;
though it was quite neglected in the following, in spite of the efforts
of Cellini to support it. It was applied to household furniture, silver
ornaments, and sacred vessels, such as holy cups and vases, to missals
and other devotional books, and to reliquaries; as well as to profane
purposes, as adorning the hilts of swords, table utensils, and many
kinds of female ornaments. In some kinds of ebony desks and escrutoires
it was held [Pg
111]in great request, for its little silver statues, and
modelled plates, representing figures, histories, and flowers. In the
cathedral of Pistoia there still remains a large silver palliotto,
adorned in places with plates, on which are figured images in niello,
and little scripture histories. The method was to cut with the chisel
upon the silver whatever history, portrait, or flowers, was required,[91] and afterwards to fill up the hollow part of
the engraving with a mixture of silver and lead, which, from its dark
colour, was called, by the ancients, nigellum, which our
countrymen curtailed into niello; a substance which, being incorporated
with the silver, produced the effect of shadow, contrasted with its
clearness, and gave to the entire [Pg 112]work the appearance of
a chiaroscuro in silver. There were many excellent niellatori, or
inlayers, who cast models with this substance, such as Forzore, brother
to Parri Spinelli of Arezzo, Caradosso and Arcioni of Milan;[92] and three Florentines, who rivalled each other
at S. Giovanni, Matteo Dei, Antonio del Pollaiuolo, and Maso Finiguerra;
specimens of whose paci, cut with wonderful accuracy, acquired
for them the highest reputation.

We are to attribute to Maso, says Vasari, “the beginning of engraving
upon copper,” an art, which for the sake of greater perspicuity, I shall
distinguish into three different states; the first of which will be
found as follows. Finiguerra was in the habit of never filling the
little hollows or cuts prepared in the silver plate until he had first
made proof of his work. “For this purpose, as in taking a cast, he
impressed them with earth, upon the top of which having thrown a
quantity of liquid sulphur, they became imprinted, and filled with
smoke; which, with the aid of oil, gave him the effect of the work in
silver. He also produced the same with moistened paper, and with the
same tint or ink, pressing it sufficiently hard with a round roller,
with a smooth surface throughout. [Pg 113]This gave them not only
the effect of being printed, but that of having been designed with
ink.”[93] So far we quote Vasari in the preface to his
Life of Marc Antonio. He adds, that in this plan Finiguerra was followed
by Baldini, a Florentine goldsmith; next to whom he mentions Botticelli;
and he might have added the name of Pollaiuolo. Finally, he concludes
that the invention was communicated from Florence to Mantegna at Rome,
and to Martino, called De Clef, in Flanders.

These proofs, the first of their kind, made by Finiguerra, have, for
the most part, perished. Some, which are attributed to him, in
possession of the fathers of Camaldoli, are not ascertained to be his.[94] [Pg 114]We are assured, however, that the
sulphur of the pace[95] cut for S. Giovanni in
1452, upon which he represented the Assumption of our Lady, in a variety
of minute figures, is from his hand. It was formerly in the museum of
the Proposto Gori, who gave a description of it in his Dittici (a
treatise upon a peculiar kind of altar-pieces, tom. iii. p. 315), and it
is now in the Durazzo cabinet, with a memorandum in Gori’s own hand, in
which he declares that he had compared it with the original.[96] [Pg 115]Of the proofs made on paper none are
ascertained to exist, with the exception of that of the Assumption
recognized by the Ab. Zani, in the national collection at Paris. It was
made known by him in the year 1803; and to this I may add the Epiphany,
in an inferior style, but more exactly finished, which I found in the
possession of the Senator Martelli, besides a duplicate belonging to S.
E. Seratti. It appears from its style, the work of Finiguerra, and to
have been executed before the Assumption. It is doubtful whether
specimens exist in the ducal gallery, a question which I leave to the
[Pg
116]solution of abler pens than mine. We have in the Durazzo
collection, the proofs or models of many silversmiths, whose names are
unknown; and for many more we are indebted to Sig. Antonio Armanno, an
excellent connoisseur in prints, to whom I shall have occasion to recur
more than once. Following the ideas thrown out by Vasari in the passage
cited, he concluded that these impressions might happen to have been
confounded with pen designs, owing to the resemblance between
them; he therefore sought for them in collections of designs, and,
having recognized them, purchased them for Count Giacomo, his
patron.

Many of these were met with in the ancient Gadi gallery at Florence;
the work of artificers much inferior to Finiguerra, at least if we
except two specimens not unworthy even of his hand. To these a number of
others were afterwards added from different schools of Italy. Sometimes
we may gather their origin from the design; sometimes with more
certainty from inscriptions, and other unequivocal signs of the period.
For instance, we read the following words in a Presepio,[97] engraved in reversed characters: “Dominus
Philippus Stancharius fieri fecit;” where the family which is named,
along with other circumstances, shew it to have been executed at Bologna. One small print
represents a woman turning towards a cat; and on it is written, also in
reverse, “Va in la Caneva;” [Pg 117]in another we read
Mantengave Dio; both which are either Lombard or Venetian, if we
may judge from the dialect. From all this we have a right to conclude
that Vasari’s words, which ascribe to Finiguerra the practice of proving
his works before he inserted the niello, are not to be limited to him
only, or to his school. On the contrary, it appears that Caradosso, as
well as all the best Italian artificers, considered it as no small
portion of their art, and that they only attained correctness in the
process of inlaying and modelling by dint of such proofs, and not by
mere chance. Nor does Vasari’s silence militate against this. He
repeatedly complains, in different parts of his work, that he could not
obtain sufficiently full and satisfactory information regarding the
Venetian and Lombard schools; and if he confesses his ignorance of so
many things pertaining to their schools of painting, it is not
surprising that he should know less of their engraving.

The proofs, therefore, of the niellatori on paper are to be
found in all parts of Italy, and they may be particularly known from the
position of the letters, which being written on the original models in
the ordinary way, appear in the impression like the eastern characters,
from right to left; and in like manner the other part of the impression
is seen in reverse; as for instance, a saint is seen standing on the
left hand, who, from his dignity, ought to have occupied the right, and
the actors all write, play music, and do every thing with the [Pg 118]left
hand. There are other signs which serve to distinguish them; because,
having been pressed by hand, or with a roller, they leave no mark or
furrows in the outlines; nor are we to look for that delicacy and
precision in the lines that appear in impressions from under the press.
They are moreover characterized by their colour, which merely consisted
of lamp black and of oil, or of some other very slight tint; though both
this and the preceding are dubious signs, as we shall shew. It is
conjectured that proofs of a similar[98]
nature were made by silver carvers, in regard to their graphic labours,
and to others in which the niello was not employed. At all events
they preserved them in their studies, and in those of their pupils, to
whom they afforded a model; and in this way several have been handed
down to our own times.

From these early efforts, the art gradually advanced, as it appears
to me, until it attained what I call the second state of the impression.
When the pleasing effect of these proofs was seen, the idea was struck
out, of forming works in the same delicate and finished taste, and for
this purpose to make use of the same means as had been until then
adopted for impressions in wood. We might thus observe, that in the
workshop of the goldsmith was prepared the art of chalcography, and the
first labours were executed upon silver, upon tin, or, as[Pg 119]
Heineken observes, upon some composition less hard than copper. We may
remark, that such was the practice of the Italians, before they cut
their subjects in copper; but whatever material the first goldsmiths
might adopt, it was not difficult for them to substitute for the shadow
they produced by the niello, the shadow of the cut itself, and to
execute the subject on the reverse, in order to receive the impression
right. From that time, they proceeded gradually to refine the art. Both
the roller and the press which they had then in use were very imperfect,
and, to improve the impression, they first enclosed the plate in a frame
of wood, with four small nails to prevent its slipping; upon this they
placed the paper, and over it a small moist linen cloth, which was then
pressed down with force. Hence, in the first old impressions, we may
plainly trace on the reverse the marks of the linen, for which felt was
next substituted, which leaves no trace behind it.[99]
They next made trial of various tints; and gave the preference to a
light azure or blue, with which the chief part of the old prints are
coloured.[100] The same method [Pg 120]was
adopted in forming the fifty cards, which are commonly called the game
of Mantegna. I saw them, for the first time, in possession of his
excellency the Marchese Manfredini, major-domo to the Duke of Tuscany,
whose cabinet is filled with many of the choicest prints. Another copy I
found in possession of the Ab. Boni, and a third formerly belonging to
the Duke of Cassano, was afterwards transferred to the very valuable
collection made by the Senator Prior Seratti. There is also a copy of
this game on a large scale, with some alterations (as, for instance, La
Fede bears a large instead of a small cross, as in the original), and is
of a much later date. A second copy, not so very rare, with a number of
variations, is in existence; and in this the first card bears the
Venetian lion as ensign, with the two letters C. and E. united. The card
of the Doge is inscribed the Doxe; and elsewhere we read in the
same way, Artixan, Famejo, and other words in the Venetian
idiom, which proves that the author of so large and fine a work must
have belonged to the city of Venice or to the state. The design displays
much of Mantegna, and of the Paduan school; though the cut is not
ascertained to be that of Andrea, or of any other known master of that
age. A careful but timid hand is discernible, betraying traces of a
copyist of another’s designs, rather than of an original invention. Time
only may possibly clear up this doubt.

Proceeding from cards to books, we are made [Pg 121]acquainted with the
first attempts at ornamenting them with cuts in metal. The most
celebrated of these consist of the Monte Santo di Dio, and the
Commedia of Dante, both printed at Florence, and the two editions
of Ptolemy’s Geography, at Rome and Bologna; to which we may add the
Geography of Berlinghieri, printed at Florence; all the three
accompanied with tables. The authors of these engravings are not well
known; except so far as we learn from Vasari, that Botticelli was one
who acquired the most reputation. He represented the Inferno, and
took the impression; and the two histories, executed by Gio. de
Lamagna in his Dante, display all the design and composition of Sandro,
so as to leave no doubt of their being his.[101]
Other prints are likewise found pasted in a few of the copies of the
same edition, amounting, more or less, to the number of nineteen; and
their manner is more coarse and mean,[102]
as we are informed by the Cav. Gaburri, who collected them for his
cabinet. They must have been executed by some inferior hand, and with
the knowledge of the printer, who had left blank spaces in parts of the
work intended to receive the engravings, not yet completed on the
publication of the work. Of a similar cast were other anonymous
engravers of that period, nor is there any name, except those of Sandro
and of Pollaiuolo, truly distinguished in the art among the Florentines.
In Upper Italy, besides [Pg 122]Mantegna, Bartolommeo Montagna, his
pupil, from Vicenza, (to whom some add Montagna his brother,) and
Marcello Figolino, their fellow citizen, were both well known. Figolino
is asserted to have been the same artist as one Robetta, or
rather one who subscribes himself so, or R. B. T. A.; yet he ought not
to be separated from the Florentine school, to which Vasari refers him,
which the character of his design confirms. The names of Nicoletto da
Modena, F. Gio. Maria da Brescia, a Carmelite monk, and of his brother
Gio. Antonio, have also survived; as well as Giulio and Domenico
Campagnola of Padua. There are not a few anonymous productions which
only announce that they were executed in the Venetian or Lombard manner.
For such artificers as were in the habit of taking impressions from the
roller, either wholly omitted names, or only affixed that of the
designer, or merely gave their own initials, which are now either
doubtful, or no longer understood. For instance, they would write M. F.,
which Vasari interprets into Marc-antonio Francia, while others
read Marcello Figolino, and a third party, Maso
Finiguerra; this last quite erroneously, as, after the most minute
researches, made by the very able Cavaliere Gaburri, throughout
Florence, there is no engraving of that artist to be found.[103] In the Durazzo collection, after twelve
plates, which are supposed to be [Pg 123]proofs of the silver
engravers, printed in reverse, we find several others of the first
impressions taken with the roller, and appearing to the right; but not
unlike the proofs in the mechanical part of the impression, and in
regard to the uncertainty of their artists. For this, and other
information on the subject, I am indebted to the kindness of the Ab.
Boni, who having enjoyed the familiar acquaintance of Count Giacomo, is
now engaged in preparing a full account of his fine collection.

The last state of engraving on copper I consider to be that in which
the press and the printing ink being now discovered, the art began to
approach nearer perfection; and it was then it became first separated
from the goldsmith’s art, like the full grown offspring, received
pupils, and opened its studio apart. It is difficult to fix the precise
epoch when it attained this degree of perfection in Italy. The same
artificers who had employed the roller, were some of them living, to
avail themselves of the press, such as Nicoletto da Modena, Gio. Antonio
da Brescia, and Mantegna himself, of whose prints there exist, as it
were, two editions; the one with the roller, exhibiting faint tints, the
other in good ink, and from the press. Then the engravers first becoming
jealous lest others should appropriate their reputation, affixed their
own names more frequently to their works; beginning with their initials,
and finally attaching the full name. The Germans held out the earliest
examples, which our countrymen imitated; with one[Pg 124] who
surpassed all his predecessors, the celebrated Marc Antonio Raimondi, or
del Francia. He was a native of Bologna, and was instructed in the art
of working in niello by Francesco Francia, in which he acquired singular
skill. Proceeding next to engravings upon metal, he began with engraving
some of the productions of his master. At first he imitated Mantegna,
then Albert Durer, and subsequently perfected himself in design under
Raffaello d’Urbino. This last afforded him further assistance; he even
permitted his own grinder of colours, Baviera, to manage the press, in
order that Marc Antonio might devote himself wholly to engraving
Raffaello’s designs, to which we owe the number we meet with in
different collections. He pursued the same plan with the works of
antiquity, as well as those of a few moderns, of Bonarruoti, of Giulio
Romano, and of Bandinelli, besides several others, of which he was both
the designer and engraver. Sometimes he omitted every kind of mark, and
every letter; sometimes he adopted the little tablet of Mantegna, either
with letters or without. In some engravings of the Passion he
counterfeited both the hand and the mark of Albert Durer: and not
unfrequently he gave the initial letters of his own and of Raffaello’s
name, and that of Michel Angiolo Fiorentino upon those he engraved after
Bonarruoti. He was assisted by his two pupils, Agostin Veneziano and
Marco Ravignano, who succeeded him in the series of engravings from
Raffaello; which led Vasari to observe, in his Life of Marc[Pg 125]
Antonio, that, “between Agostino and Marco nearly all Raffaello’s
designs and paintings had been engraved.” These two executed works
conjointly; till at length they parted, and each affixed to his
productions the two initial letters of his name and country.

It was thus the art of engraving in the studio of Raffaello, and by
means of Marc Antonio, and of his school, rose to a high degree of
perfection, not many years after its first commencement. Since that
period no artist has appeared capable of treating it with more knowledge
of design, and with more precision of lines and contour; though in other
points it has acquired much from the hand of Parmigianino, who engraved
in aqua-fortis,[104] from Agostino Caracci,
and from different foreigners of the last century, among whom we may
notice Edelink, Masson, Audran, Drevet, and, in the present age,
several, both Italians and strangers, of whom, in this place, we must
refrain from speaking.

I may be permitted, in this place, to enter into a brief
investigation of the long contested question of engraving upon copper,
whether its discovery is to be attributed to Germany or to Italy; and if
to Italy, whether to Florence or to some other place. Much has been
written upon the subject, both by natives and foreigners, but, if I
mistake [Pg
126]not, it has scarcely been treated with that accuracy
which is necessary for the attainment of truth. That it is quite
requisite to divide this branch of art into three several states or
stages, I trust I have already sufficiently shewn. In following up this
division we shall have a better chance of ascertaining what portion of
merit ought to be awarded to each country. Vasari, together with
Cellini, in his “Treatise upon the Goldsmith’s art,” as well as most
other writers, are inclined to refer its commencement to Florence, and
to the artist Finiguerra. Doubts have since arisen; while so recent an
author as Bottari, himself a Florentine, mentions it as a circumstance
not yet ascertained. The epoch of Maso was altered through mistake, by
Manni, who speaks of his decease as happening previous to 1424.[105] This has been corrected by reference to the
authentic books of the Arte de’ Mercanti, in which the
pace already cited is mentioned as being paid for in the year
1452. About the same time, Antonio Pollaiuolo, still a youth, as we
learn from Vasari, in his life, was the rival of Finiguerra in the
church of S. Giovanni; and as Maso had at that period already acquired
great celebrity, we may conclude that he was of a mature age, and
experienced in the art. We have further a right to suppose, with Gaburri
and Tiraboschi, that having then taken proofs “of all the subjects which
he had engraved on silver,” he had observed this custom from the year
1440, and perhaps earlier; [Pg 127]and we thus discover the elements of
chalcography in Florence, satisfactorily deduced from history.[106] For neither with the aid of history,
monuments, nor reasoning, am I enabled to discover an epoch equally
remote belonging to any other country; as we shall shew, in the first
place, in regard to Germany. It possesses no annals so far back as that
period. The credulity of Sandrart[107]
led him to question the truth of this, by referring to a small print of
uncertain origin, on which he believed he could read the date 1411, and
upon another that of 1455. At this period, however, when the authority
of Sandrart is of small account, no less from his frequent
contradictions than his partiality, which has rendered him suspected
even by his own countrymen, we may receive his two engravings as false
coin, not valuable enough to purchase the credit of the discovery from
us. Those two distinguished writers, Meerman,[108]
and the Baron Heineken,[109] were equally bent upon
refuting [Pg
128]him. They do not pretend to trace any earlier engraver in
Germany than Martin Schön, called by others Bonmartino, and by Vasari,
Martino di Anversa,[110] who died in 1486. Some
are of opinion that he had two brothers, who assisted him, but who are
unknown; and not long after appear the names of Israel Meckeln,[111] Van Bockold, Michael Wolgemuth, master to
Albert Durer, with many others who approached the sixteenth century. It
is contended, however, that engraving on copper was known in Germany
anterior to these; as there exist specimens by doubtful hands, which
have the appearance of being much earlier. Meerman, on the
authority of Christ,[112] adduces one with the
initials C. E. and the date 1465, besides two described by Bar.
Heineken, dated 1466, the first of which is signed f. s, the second b x s,
and both the artists unknown. He declares that he had never seen older
engravings that bore a name, (p. 231,) and observes that their manner
resembles [Pg
129]that of Schön, only coarser, which leads him to suspect
that the authors must have been his masters, (p. 220). But whoever was
Schön’s master, Heineken concludes he must have flourished more than ten
years earlier than his time, so as to bring it back to 1450, when the
art of engraving by the burin was undoubtedly practised in Germany, (p.
220). And as if this appeared too little to be granted, he adds, about
four pages further on, “that he was tempted to place the epoch of
its discovery at least towards the year 1440.”

The cause is well pleaded, but it is not carried. Let us try to
confront reasons with reasons. The Italians have the testimony of
history in their favour; the Germans have it against them. The former,
without any attempt at exaggeration, proceed as far back as 1440, and
even farther;[113] the latter, by dint of
conjecture, reach as far as 1450, and are only tempted to
anticipate it by ten years date. The Italians commence the art with
Maso, not from his master; the Germans are not content to date from
Schön, but from his master, an advantage they either deny to Italy, and
thus fail to draw an equal comparison; or if they concede the master, we
still anticipate by ten years their origin of chalcography. The
Italians, again, confirm the truth of their history by a number of
authentic documents, proofs in niello, first impressions, and the
progress of the art from its earliest stages to maturity. The Germans
supply their historic [Pg 130]deficiency by monuments, in part proved
to be false, in part doubtful, and which are easily convicted of
insufficiency for the proposed object. Because who can assure us that
the prints of 1465 or 66, are not the production of the brothers or the
disciples of Schön, since Heineken himself confesses that they were
possibly the work of some contemporary artists, his inferiors? Do we not
find in Italy that the followers of Botticelli are inferior to him, and
appear to be of earlier date? Moreover, who can assure us that Schön was
instructed by a master of his own nation; when all his engravings that
have been hitherto produced, appear already perfect in their kind;[114] nor do we find mentioned in Germany either
proofs in niello, or first essays in metals of a softer temper? The fact
therefore, most probably is, what has invariably obtained
credit,—that the invention was communicated from Italy to Germany,
and as a matter not at all difficult to the goldsmiths, was speedily
practised there with success; I might even add, was greatly improved.
For both the press and printer’s ink being well known there, artists
were enabled to add to the mechanic part of the art, improvements with
which Italy was unacquainted; I will produce an example of what I mean,
that cannot fail to convince. Printing of books was discovered in
Germany: history and monuments alike confirm [Pg 131]it, which are to be
traced gradually from tabular prints to moveable types, still of wood,
and from these to characters of metal. In such state was the invention
brought to Italy, where, without passing through these intermediate
degrees, books were printed not only in moveable characters of metal,
but with tables cut in copper, thus adding to the art a degree of
perfection which it wanted. Heineken objects that the Germans at that
period had very little correspondence with the cities of Italy, with the
exception of Venice, (p. 139). To this I answer that our universities of
Pisa and Bologna, besides several others, were much frequented by young
men from Germany, at that period; and that for the convenience both of
strangers and of natives, a Dictionary of the German language was
printed at Venice, in 1475, and in 1479, at Bologna; a circumstance
sufficient of itself to prove that there was no little communication
between the two nations. There are, besides, so many other reasons to
believe that a great degree of intercourse subsisted, more particularly
between Germany and Florence,[115]
during the period [Pg 132]we treat of; that we ought not to be at
all surprised at the arts belonging to the one being communicated to the
other. Hitherto I have pleaded, as far as lay in my power, the cause of
my country; though without having been able, I fear, to bring the
question to a close. Some time, it is possible, that those earliest
essays and proofs of the art, which have hitherto eluded research, may
be discovered: it is possible that some one of their writers, who are at
once so truly learned and so numerous, may improve upon the hint thrown
out by Heineken (p. 139), that the Germans and the Italians, without any
kind of corresponding knowledge on the subject, struck out simultaneous
discoveries of the modern art. However this may chance to be, it is my
part to write from the information and authorities which I have before
me.

It remains to be seen whether, on the exclusion of Germany, there is
any other part of Italy that may have anticipated the discovery of
Finiguerra at Florence. Some of his opponents have ventured to question
his title on the strength of metallic impressions of seals, which are
met with on Italian parchments from the earliest periods. This shews
only that the art advanced during several ages on the verge of this
invention; but it does not prove that the very origin of the discovery
is to be sought for in seals; otherwise we should be bound to commence
the history of modern typography from the seals of earthen-ware, with
which our museums abound. No one will contend [Pg 133]that certain immemorial
and undigested elements that lay for many ages neglected and unformed,
ought to have a place in the history of art; and this we are now
treating on, ought not to date its commencement beyond the period when
silversmiths’ shops had been established, where, in fact, it took its
origin and grew to maturity. We must then compare the proofs remaining
to us of their labours, and see whether such proofs were in use at any
other place, before the time of Finiguerra. I might observe that there
are two threads, as it were, which may serve as a clue to this
labyrinth, until we may somewhere or by some means ascertain the actual
date; and these two are the character and the design. The character in
all the proofs I have examined, is not at all (as we commonly call it)
of a gothic description; it is round and roman, according to the
observation before made (at p. 49), and does not lead us farther back
than the year 1440. The design is more suspicious: in the Durazzo
collection I have seen proofs of nielli with more coarse designs than
are displayed in the works of Maso, but they are perhaps not the
offspring of the Florentine school. I shall not here attempt to
anticipate the judgment of those who may engage to illustrate these
ancient remains; nor that of the public, in regard to the engravings
correctly taken from them, which must pronounce their definitive
sentence. If I mistake not, however, true connoisseurs will be cautious
how they pass a final opinion. It will not be difficult for them to
discern a Bolognese from a Florentine [Pg 134]artist, in modern
painting, after it is seen that each school formed its own peculiar
character both in colouring and in design; but in regard to proofs of
nielli,[116] to distinguish school
from school, will not be so easy a task. For though it may be
ascertained, for instance, that such a proof came from Bologna; can we
pronounce from the fact of its being coarser and rawer than the designs
of Finiguerra, that it is so far more ancient? Maso and the Florentines,
after the time of Masaccio, had already softened their style towards the
year 1440; but can we assert the same of the other schools of Italy?
Besides, is it certain that the silversmiths, from whose hands proceeded
the proofs, sought out the best designers;[117]
and did not copy, for instance, the Bolognese, the design of a Pietà by
Jacopo Avanzi, or the Venetians, a Madonna by Jacobello del Fiore? The
more dry, coarse, and clumsy specimens therefore, cannot easily be
adduced against Finiguerra as a proof of greater antiquity; otherwise we
should run into the whimsical sophistry of Scalza, who affirmed that the
[Pg
135]Baronci were the most ancient men in Florence, and in the
whole world, because they were the ugliest.[118]
We must therefore permit Maso to rest quietly in possession of the
discovery, until further and more ancient proofs are adduced, than are
to be found in his cards and his zolfi.

In my account of the second state of engraving, I shall not make
mention of the German masters, in regard to whom I have not dates that
may be thought sufficient; I shall confine my attention to those of
Italy. I shall compare the testimony of Vasari and Lomazzo; one of whom
supposes the art to have originated in Upper, the other in Lower Italy.
In his Life of Marc Antonio, Vasari observes, that Finiguerra “was
followed by Baccio Baldini, a Florentine goldsmith, who being little
skilled in design, every thing he executed was after designs and
inventions of Sandro Botticello. As soon as Andrea Mantegna learned this
circumstance at Rome, he first began to turn his attention to the
engraving of his own works.” Now in the life of Sandro he makes
particular mention of the time when he applied himself to the art, which
was at the period he had completed his labours in the Sistine chapel.
Returning directly after to Florence, “he began to comment upon Dante,
he drew the Inferno, and engraved it, which occupying a large portion of
his time, was the occasion of much trouble and inconvenience in his
future life.” Botticelli is here considered an engraver from about[Pg 136]
1474, at the age of thirty-seven years; and Baldini, who executed every
thing from the designs of Sandro, also practised the art. At the same
period flourished Antonio Pollaiuolo, who acquired a higher reputation
than either of the last. Few of his impressions remain, but among these
is the celebrated battle of the naked soldiers, approaching nearest in
point of power to the bold style of Michelangiolo. The epoch of these
productions is to be placed about 1480, because having acquired great
celebrity by them, he was invited to Rome towards the close of 1483, to
raise the monument of Sixtus IV., who died in that year.

According to Vasari, Mantegna having decorated the chapel of Innocent
VIII. at Rome, about 1490,[119]
from that or the preceding year is intitled to the name of engraver,
computing it from about his sixtieth year. He flourished more than
sixteen years after this period; during which is it to be believed that
he produced that amazing number of engravings,[120]
amounting to more than fifty, of [Pg 137]which about thirty
appear to be genuine specimens, on so grand a scale, so rich in figures,
so finely studied and Mantegnesque in every part; that he executed these
when he was already old, new to the art, an art fatiguing to the eye and
the chest even of young artists; that he pursued it amidst his latest
occupations in Mantua, which we shall, in their place, describe, and
that he produced such grand results within sixteen or seventeen years.
Either Vasari must have mistaken the dates, or wished to impose upon our
credulity by his authority. Lomazzo leads us to draw a very different
conclusion, when in his Treatise[Pg 138] (p. 682) he adds this short eulogy to
the name and merits of Mantegna, “a skilful painter, and the first
engraver of prints in Italy;” but wherein he does not mention him as an
inventor, meaning only to ascribe to him the merit of introducing the
second state of the art at least in Italy; because he believed that it
had already arisen in Germany. Such authority as this is worth our
attention. I shall have occasion in the course of my narrative to combat
some of Lomazzo’s assertions; but I shall also feel bound to concur with
him frequently in the epochs illustrated by him. He was born about
twenty-five years subsequent to Vasari; he had more erudition, was a
better critic, and on the affairs of Lombardy in particular, was enabled
to correct him, and to supply his deficiencies. I am not surprised,
then, that Meerman (p. 259) should suppose Andrea to have been already
an engraver before the time of Baldini and Botticelli; I could have
wished only that he had better observed the order of the epochs, and not
postponed the praise due to him until the pontificate of Innocent VIII.
In fact, it is not easy to ascertain the exact time when Mantegna first
directed his attention to the art of engraving. It decidedly appears
that he commenced at Padua; for the very confidence he displays in every
plate, shews that he could be no novice; nor is it credible that his
noviciate began only in old age. I suspect he received the rudiments of
the art from Niccolo, a distinguished goldsmith, as he gave his[Pg 139]
portrait, together with that of Squarcione, in a history piece of S.
Cristoforo, at the Eremitani in Padua; each most probably being a
tribute of respect to his former master. It is true that we meet with no
specimens of his hand at that, or even a later period of his early life;
though we ought to recollect that he never affixed any dates to his
works. So that it is impossible to say that none of them were the
production of his earlier years, however equal and beautiful they appear
in regard to their style; inasmuch as in his paintings we are enabled to
detect little difference between his history of S. Cristoforo, painted
in the flower of youth, and his altar-piece at S. Andrea of Mantua,
which is considered one of his last labours. A specimen of his engraving
with a date, is believed, however, by some, to be contained in a book of
Pietro d’Abano; intitled “Tractatus de Venenis,” published in Mantua,
1472, “in cujus paginâ prima littera initialis aeri incisa exhibetur,
quæ integram columnæ latitudinem occupat. Patet hinc artem
chalcographicam jam anno 1472 extitisse.” Thus far writes the learned
Panzer,[121] but whether he ever saw
the work that exists in folio, and of seven pages, I am not certain.[122] A quarto edition [Pg 140]was likewise edited in
Mantua, 1473, and a copy is there preserved in the public library, but
without any plates.

It is certain, however, that about this period copper engraving was
practised, not only in Mantua, where Mantegna resided, but also in
Bologna. The geography of Ptolemy, printed in Bologna by Domenico de
Lapis, with the apparently incorrect date of 1462, is in the possession
of the Corsini at Rome, and of the Foscarini at Venice.[123] It contains twenty-six geographical tables,
engraved very coarsely, yet so greatly admired by the printer, that he
applauds this new discovery, and compares it to the invention of
printing, which not long before had appeared in Germany. We give his
words as they are quoted from the Latin without being refuted, by
Meerman, at p. 251: “Accedit mirifica imprimendi tales tabulas ratio,
cujus inventoris laus nihil illorum laude inferior, qui primi litterarum
imprimendarum artem pepererunt, in admirationem sui studiosissimum
quemque facillime convertere potest.” The same writer, however, along
with other learned men, contends that the date ought to be corrected,
chiefly on the authority of the catalogue of the correctors of the work,
among whom we find Filippo Beroaldo, who, in 1462, was no more than nine
years of age. Hence Meerman infers, that we ought to read 1482;
Audifredi [Pg
141]and others, 1491; neither of which opinions I can agree
with. For the work of Ptolemy being published at Rome, accompanied by
twenty-seven elegant charts in 1478, what presumption, or rather folly,
in the publisher of the Bolognese edition, to think of applauding its
beauty, after the appearance of one so incomparably superior! I am
therefore compelled to refer the former to an earlier period than the
last mentioned year. Besides, I ought to inform the reader, that the
engraving of twenty-six geographical plates, full of lines, distances,
and references, must have been a long and difficult task, particularly
during the infancy of the art, sufficient to occupy several years; as we
are certain that three or four were devoted to the same purpose at Rome
by more modern engravers, far more expert. We are therefore bound to
antedate the epoch of the Bolognese engraving several years before the
publication of the book, which belongs perhaps to the year 1472.[124] I shall not, however, set myself up as an
umpire in this dispute; anxiously expecting, as I do, an excellent
treatise from the pen of Sig. Bartolommeo Gamba; which I feel assured
will not fail to gratify the public.[125]
[Pg
142]In regard to Bologna, therefore, I shall only seek to
prove that the progress of the goldsmith’s art to that of engraving upon
metal, was more rapid than it has been supposed. Heineken himself
observes, in describing the Ptolemy, that it is evident, from the traces
of the zigzag, which the goldsmiths are in the habit of putting on the
silver plates, the work is the production of one belonging to that art.
The earliest works that can be pointed out with certainty at Florence,
are the three elegant engravings of the Monte Santo di Dio, published in
1477; and the two in the two cantos of Dante, 1481; one of which, as if
a third engraving, was repeated in the same book; while all of them seem
to have been drawn from the roller, the art of inserting the plates in
the letter-press being then unknown. We have yet to notice the
thirty-seven geographical charts, in whatever way executed, affixed to
the book of Berlinghieri, which was printed about the same period,
without any date. These also contain several heads with the names
Aquilo, Africus, &c., but they are all of youthful
appearance, and tolerable in point of design; whereas the same heads in
Bologna are of different ages, with long beards and caps, and in a
coarser manner. [Pg 143]The three before mentioned works appeared from the press of
Niccolo Tedesco, or Niccolo di Lorenzo de Lamagna, the first who printed
books at Florence with copper plates.

The last and most complete state of engraving upon copper, comes next
under our notice. For this improvement, it appears to me, we are as much
indebted to Germany as for the art of printing books. The press there
first discovered for typography, opened the way for that applied to
copper plates. The mechanical construction to be sure was different, in
the former the impression being drawn from cast letters which rise
outwards; in the latter from plates cut hollow within by the artist’s
graver. A kind of ink was at the same time adopted, of a stronger and
less fuliginous colour, than had been used for engravings in wood; but
as it is termed by Meerman (p. 12), “singulare ac tenuius.” The same
author fixes the date of this improvement in the art at about 1470; and
most probably he meant to deduce it from the earliest copper engravings
which appeared in Germany. Of this I cannot venture to speak, not having
seen the two specimens cited by Heineken, and the others that bear a
date; nor is it at all connected with our present history of Italian
art, as far as regards engraving. We gather from it, that such
improvement was brought to us from Germany by the same Corrado Sweyneym,
who prepared the beautiful edition of Ptolemy at Rome. We learn from the
anonymous preface prefixed, that Corrado devoted three years[Pg 144] to
the task, and left it incomplete; and it was continued by Arnold
Buckinck, and published by him, as I already observed, in 1478. The
tables are engraved with a surprising degree of elegance, and are taken
from the press, as Meerman, adopting the opinion of Raidelio, and of
such bibliographers as have described it, has clearly shewn, (p. 258).
It is conjectured that Corrado commenced his labours about 1472, a fact
ascertained no less from the testimony of Calderino, the corrector of
the work, than from the tables, impressions of which were taken in
1475.[126] Some are of opinion that
the engraving was from the hand of Corrado, although the author of the
preface simply observes, “animum ad hanc doctrinam capessendam applicuit
(that is, to geography) subinde matematicis adhibitis viris quemadmodum
tabulis æneis imprimerentur edocuit,[127]
triennioque in hâc curâ consumpto diem obiit.” And it seems very
probable, that as he employed Italians in the correction of the text, he
was also assisted by some one of the same nation in the engravings. It
strikes me, likewise, [Pg 145]that Botticelli was attracted by this
novel art at Rome, since on his return about the year 1474, he began to
engrave copper plates with all the ardour that Vasari has described, and
was in fact the first who represented full figures and histories in the
new art. Perhaps the cause of his impressions being less perfect than
others, arose from his ignorance of the method of printing upon a single
page, both the plates and the characters; as well as from the want of
the press, and that improved plan derived from the office of the German
printers. But from whatever cause, it is certain, that our engravers
long continued to labour under this imperfection in the art, as I have
already recounted. In the time of Marc Antonio, who rose into notice
soon after the year 1500, the art, in its perfect state, had been
introduced into Italy, insomuch that he was enabled to rival Albert
Durer and Luca d’Ollanda, equalling them in the mechanism of the art,
and surpassing them in point of design. It is from this triumvirate of
genius that the more finished age of engraving takes its date; and
nearly at the same period we behold the most improved era in the art of
painting. The completion of the new art soon diffused good models of
design through every school, which led the way to the new epoch.
Following the steps of Durer, the imitators of nature learned to design
more correctly; while they composed, if not with much taste, at least
with great variety and fertility, examples of which appear in [Pg 146]the
Venetian artists of the time. Others of a more studied character, formed
upon the model of Raffaello and of the best Italian masters, exhibited
by Marc Antonio, applied with more diligence to compose with order, and
to attain elegance of design; as we shall further see in the progress of
this History of Painting, which after such necessary interruption, we
prepare once more to resume.

[84]
See Baron d’Heineken’s “Idéé générale d’une Collection,” &c. p. 239.
See likewise the same work, p. 150, in order to give us a proper
distrust of the work of Papillon. Sig. Huber agrees with Heineken: see
his “Manuel,” &c. p. 35.

[85]
Storia Letter. tom. vi. p, 1194.

[86]
Muratori, Rerum Ital. Scriptores, vol. xx. Vita Phil. M. Visconti, chap.
lxi.

[87]
Lettere Pittoriche, tom. v. p. 321.

[88]
Vide ante, p. 46.

[89]
In the ancient monastery of Certosa, at Buxheim, there remains a figure
of S. Cristoforo in the act of passing the river, with Jesus upon his
shoulders; and there is added that of a hermit lighting the way with a
lantern in his hand. It bears the date 1423. A number of other devout
images are seen in the celebrated library at Wolfenbuttel, and others in
Germany, stamped upon wood in a manner similar to that of playing-cards.
Huber, Manuel, tom. i. p. 86.

[90]
See Maffei, Verona Illustrata, Part iii. col. 195, and Part ii.
col. 68, 76.

[91]
There was collected for the ducal gallery in 1801, a silver pace
that had been made for the company of S. Paolo, and sold upon the
suppression of that pious foundation. It represents the saint’s
conversion, with many tolerably executed figures, from an unknown hand,
though less old and valuable than that of Maso. He had ornamented it
with niello; but in order to ascertain the workmanship, it was taken to
pieces some years since, and the plate examined in the state it came
from under the tools of the silversmith. The cuts were found not at all
deep, resembling those of our engravers upon sheets of copper, upon the
model of which the silver plate, being provided with the ink, was put
into the press, and from it were taken as many, perhaps, as twenty fine
proofs. One of these is in the collection of the Senator Bali Martelli;
and upon this a foreign connoisseur wrote that it was the work of Doni,
I know not on what authority, unless, from an error of memory, the name
Doni was inserted instead of Dei.

[92]
Ambrogio Leone mentions both, De Nobilitate rerum, cap. 41, and
he particularly praises, for his skill in working niello, the second,
who is so little known in the history of the arts. See Morelli, Notizia,
p. 204.

[93]
Vasari, who is difficult to understand, at least by many, on account of
his brevity, touches upon the different processes used by Maso, which
are these: When he had cut the plate, he next proceeded to take a print
of it, before he inlaid it with niello, upon very fine earth; and from
the cut being to the right hand, and hollow, the proof consequently came
out on the left, shewing the little earthen cast in relief. Upon this
last he threw the liquid sulphur, from which he obtained a second proof,
which, of course, appeared to the right, and took from the relief a
hollow form. He then laid the ink (lamp black or printer’s ink) upon the sulphur, in such a way
as to fill up the hollows on the more indented cuts, intended to produce
the shadow; and next, by degrees, he scraped away from the ground (of
the sulphur) what was meant to produce the light. And this is also the
plan pursued in engraving on copper. The final work was to polish it
with oil, in order to give the sulphur the bright appearance of
silver.

[94]
They are to be seen in a little portable altar; and are most probably
the proofs of some niello worker of the time; who had executed those
histories in silver to ornament some similar little altar, or the place
in which sacred relics were laid. Before introducing the niello, he had
cast proofs of his work in these zolfi (sulphurs), which were
subsequently inlaid with great symmetry and taste in the altar-piece.
They consist of various forms and sizes, and are adapted to the
architecture of the little altar, and to its various parts. Many of them
have now perished, though several are yet in existence, the smallest of
which chiefly represent histories from scripture, and the largest of
them the acts of the Evangelists, to the number of fourteen, and about
one-sixth of a braccio (an arm, two-thirds of a yard) in height.

[95]
Pace, a sort of sacred vessel borne in procession by the priests;
literally, it means peace.

[96]
In this edition I ought to mention another zolfo (a sulphur cast) of the
same pace of S. Giovanni, in possession of his excellency the Senator
Prior Seratti. This, when compared with the model, corresponds line for
line; there is a full display of the very difficult character of Maso’s
heads, and what is still more decisive, is, that it is cut, or indented,
an effect that must have been produced according to the manner already
described. The zolfo Durazzo, as appears from the impression, does not
correspond so well; some of the flowers and ornaments of drapery are
wanting; it is not equally finished, and it seems smooth on the surface.
This does not derogate from its genuineness, for as several proofs were
taken of the same pace, which was cut by degrees, if we find less
completeness in the Durazzo proof, it is only an indication of its
having been taken before the rest. And if the impressions of the cuts
are not so plainly traced as in the other, I do not, therefore,
conjecture that they do not exist. The zolfi of the fathers of Camaldoli
already cited, seem as if they were printed, and smooth. A fragment
breaking off, highly polished on the surface, the cuts were then
discovered, even to the minutest lines, as many professors, even the
most experienced in the art of printing, to their surprise, have
witnessed; and they conjectured that the ocular illusion might arise,
1st, from the fineness of cut made with the style, or possibly with the
graver, which was diminished in proportion as it passed from the sheet
to the earthen mould, and from this to the zolfo; 2d, from the density
of the ink, when hardened between the cuts or hollows of the zolfo; 3d,
from a coat of bluish colour laid on the work, of which there remain
traces, and from that which time produces both in paintings and on
cards. I have not a doubt, that, if the experiment were tried on the
Durazzo zolfo, the result would appear exactly the same. The extrinsic
proofs of its origin, also adduced by Gori, together with the aspect of
the monument, which is fresh in my memory, do not authorize me to
suspect the existence of a fraud.

[97]
Christ in the manger.

[98]
Heineken gives a general nomenclature of the works of these silver
carvers. Idéé, &c. p. 217].

[99]
I must remark, that some copper of the earliest age may have been
preserved and made use of after the introduction of felt and of the
press. In this case there will remain no impression of the linen cloth,
but the print will be poor and faint.

[100]
In the prints of Dante, and other Florentine books, a yellowish colour
prevails; and we may observe stains of oil and blots at the extremities.
A pale ash colour was also used for wood prints by the Germans, and
Meerman remarks that it was employed to counterfeit the colour of
designs.

[101]
See Lettere Pittoriche, tom. ii. p. 268.

[102]
Ibid. p. 269. I should add, that the twenty others are now known,
obtained for the Riccardi library at Florence.

[103]
Lettere Pittoriche, tom. ii. p. 267. It is ascertained that Maso
flourished less recently; and the Dante prints, inferior to those of
Botticelli, were ascribed to him only on account of their coarseness, as
we gather from Gaburri.

[104]
It is denied that he was the inventor of this mode of engraving by many
learned Germans, who give the merit of it to Wolgemuth. Meerman, L. C.
p. 256.

[105]
Notes to Baldinucci, tom. iv. p. 2.

[106]
It was observed, at p. 115, that the Epiphany of Maso is anterior to the
work of the Assumption. The progress from the minute and careful, to the
free and great style, is very gradual. The present work contains many
examples of this, even in the loftiest geniuses, in Coreggio, and in
Raffaello himself.

[107]
A sample of his ignorance appears in what he wrote of Demone; not well
understanding Pliny, he did not believe Demone to be the fabulous genius
of Athens; but set him down as a painter of mortal flesh and blood, and
gave his portrait with those of Zeuxis, Apelles, and other ancient
painters.

[108]
Origines Typographicæ, tom. i. p. 254.

[109]
Idéé Générale d’une Collection Complète d’Estampes, pp. 224, 116, where
he gives his opinion on Sandrart’s work. See also Dictionnaire des
Artistes, vol. ii. p. 331.

[110]
He says that his cipher was M. C. which P. Orlandi reads Martinus de
Clef, or Clivensis Augustanus. But he was not from Anversa; but was,
according to Meerman, Calembaco-Suevus Colmariæ, whence we may explain
the cipher to mean Martinus Colmariensis. In many of his prints it is M.
S.

[111]
Called by Lomazzo “Israel Metro Tedesco, painter and inventor of the art
of engraving cards in copper, master of Bonmartino,” in which I think we
ought rather to follow the learned natives already cited, than our own
countryman.

[112]
Diction. des Monogram. p. 67.

[113]
See Tiraboschi, 1st. Lett. tom. vi. p. 119.

[114]
The prints of Schön, even such as represent works in gold and silver,
are executed with admirable knowledge and delicacy. Huber, tom. i. p.
91.

[115]
The Florentine merchants, during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries,
especially such as advanced money upon interest, abounded in Germany;
insomuch that part of a town was called Borgo Fiorentino. This I
learn from Dottore Gennari, a Paduan gentleman, not long since lost to
the republic of letters. The number of German Princes who coined money
in Florence, may be gathered from the work of Orsini, and other writers,
upon our modern coinage.

[116]
The direction given by the Ab. Zani for similar specimens is this: “The
engravings of the Venetian school, generally speaking, are of a
delicate, soft, and full design; the figures are large, few, and very
beautiful in the extremities. Those of the Florentines are engraved in a
stronger manner, and are less soft and round; sometimes even harsh; the
figures are small, pretty numerous, with the extremities less highly
finished.” Materiali, p. 57.

[117]
Cellini, in his preface to his Treatise upon the art of working in gold,
asserts that Maso himself copied from the designs of Pollaiuolo, which
has been completely refuted by the Ab. Zani. Materiali, p. 40.

[118]
Boccaccio, Decamerone, Giorn. vi. Nov. 6.

[119]
See Taia, Description of the Vatican Palace, p.
404].

[120]
Forty of these I find cited, and I am informed of some others not yet
edited. The Ab. Zani (p. 142) assures us “that the genuine impressions
which are now acknowledged to be from the hand of Mantegna, do not
amount to twenty; and nearly all of them are executed with few figures.”
Such an assertion appears no less singular to me than to others on whose
judgment I could rely, whom I have consulted. How can we admit its
accuracy, when confronted with the account of Mantegna’s fellow citizen
and contemporary Scardeone, who collected his works, and who expressly
declares, as cited by the Ab. Zani, “that Mantegna engraved Roman
triumphs, Bacchanalian festivals, and marine deities: also the descent
of Christ from the cross, and the burial,” engravings exhibiting a
variety of figures, and in number more than a dozen. After this
enumeration the historian adds, “et alia permulta,” and many others. To
confute this excellent testimony, the Ab. Zani refers only to the words
of the same Scardeone, who thus continues: “Those plates are possessed
by few, and held in the highest esteem; nine of them, however, belong to
me, all of them different.” This writer therefore, in spite of his
expression “et alia permulta,” confesses that he had only nine specimens
from the hand of his fellow citizen. Yes, I reply, he confesses his
scanty portion, but admits the superior number that exists in various
cabinets, and what reason have we for believing the first assertion and
not the second? For my part, I give credit to the historian; and if any
one doubt, from a diversity of style between the plates, that there is
any exaggeration in his statement, I should not hence conclude that they
are from different hands, but executed by the same hand, the works of
the artist’s early life being inferior to his last. For what artist ever
devoted himself to a new branch, and did not contrive to cultivate and
improve it? It is sufficient that the taste be not wholly opposite.

[121]
Panzer, Ann. Typogr. tom. ii. p. 4.

[122]
The Catalogue of the Libreria Heideggeriana is cited as the first
source; but after fresh research, nothing certain has been discovered.
Volta conjectures that this edition de Venenis was not a separate
book, but a part of the Conciliatore of Pietro d’Abano, printed in folio
at Mantua, 1472.

[123]
This splendid copy has been transferred from the Biblioteca Foscarini,
into the choice selection of old prints and books illustrated by the Ab.
Mauro Boni.

[124]
See de Bure, Bibliographie Instructive, Histoire, tom. i. p. 32. From
the tenor of this opinion, which I shall not examine, we are authorized
in adding to the inscription, anno mcccclxii
another x, omitted by inadvertency, if not
purposely; instances of which are to be found in the dates of books
belonging to the fifteenth century. In 1472, Beroaldo was already a
great scholar, and in 73 he opened his academy.

[125]
This little work, whose title will be found in the second Index, is now
published, and has been well received by scholars on account of its
learning and bibliographical research. The author approves the
supposition that we ought to read 1472. We wish him leisure to produce
more such works as this, which, like those of Manuzi, at once combine
the character of the elegant typographer and the erudite scholar.

[126]
Maffei, Verona Illustrata, p. ii. col. 118.

[127]
That is, in Rome, where he also taught the art of printing books, as we
are informed in the same preface. This last is wholly devoted to Roman
matters, and it would be vain to look in it for the general history of
typography and engraving in Italy. It appears then, that Sweyneym
instructed the artists of Rome in the best manner of printing from
copper plates with the press; though others may have taught the art of
printing them more rudely and in softer metal at Bologna.

[Pg
147]

FLORENTINE SCHOOL.

EPOCH II.

Nations have their virtues and their vices; and it is the
duty of the historian to give them credit for the one, and to confess
the other. Thus it is with the Schools of Painting; no one of which is
so perfect as to leave us nothing more to desire; no one so faulty that
it has not much in it to commend. The Florentine school (I do not speak
of its greatest masters, but of the general practice of the others) had
no great merit in colouring, from which Mengs was induced to denominate
it a melancholy school; nor did it excel in its drapery, from which
arose the saying, that the drapery of figures appeared to be fashioned
with economy in Florence.

It did not shine in power of relief, a study not generally cultivated
till the last century, nor did it exhibit much beauty, because, long
destitute of fine Grecian statues, Florence was late in possessing the
Venus: and only through the attention of the Grand Duke Leopold, has
been enriched by the Apollo, the group of Niobe, and other choice
specimens. [Pg
148]From these circumstances this school aimed only at a
fidelity of representation that resembles the works of those who copied
exactly from nature, and in general made a judicious selection of its
objects. It could not boast of superior grouping in the composition of a
picture, and it was more inclined to erase a superfluous figure, than to
add one unnecessarily to the rest. In grace, in design, and in historic
accuracy, it excels most other schools; chiefly resulting from the great
learning that always adorned this city, and invariably gave a bias to
the erudition of her artists.

Design forms the peculiar excellence of this school, and its
hereditary patrimony, to which the national characteristic of minute
correctness has greatly contributed; and it may justly be observed, that
this people has excelled others no less in the symmetrical delineation
of the figure, than in purity of idiom. It may also boast of having
produced a great many excellent painters in fresco; an art so superior
to that of painting in oil, that Bonarruoti looked on the latter as mere
sport, when compared with the former, as it necessarily requires great
dexterity, and the talent of executing well and with rapidity, very
difficult attainments in any profession. This school had but few
engravers on copper, from which circumstance, though abounding in
historians,[128] and rich in paintings,
it has not [Pg
149]a sufficient number of prints to make it known in
proportion to its merit; a defect which the Etruria Pittrice has
in some measure supplied. Finally, the reader may indulge in this very
just reflection, that the Florentine school first taught the method of
proceeding scientifically, and according to general rules. Some other
schools have originated in an attentive consideration of natural
effects; by mechanically imitating, if we may be allowed the expression,
the external appearances of objects. But Vinci and Bonarruoti, the two
great luminaries of this school, like true philosophers pointed out the
immutable objects and established laws of nature, thence deducing rules
which their successors, both at home and abroad, have followed with
great benefit to the art. The former has left a Treatise on Painting,
and the public were induced to look for the publication of the precepts
of the latter, which have however never yet been produced;[129] [Pg 150]and we obtain some idea of his maxims
only from Vasari, and other writers. About this time also flourished Fra
Bartolommeo, Andrea del Sarto, Rosso, the young Ghirlandaio, and other
artists, whom we shall name in the sequel of this grand epoch, which
unfortunately was of short duration. Towards the middle of the sixteenth
century, when Michelangiolo, who survived the other great artists, was
still living, a less auspicious era began; but we must proceed with this
epoch.

Lionardo da Vinci, so called from a castle in lower Valdarno, was the
natural son of one Pietro, notary to the Florentine republic, and was
born in 1452.[130] He was endowed by nature
with a genius uncommonly elevated and penetrating, eager after
discovery, and diligent in the pursuit; not only in what related to the
three arts dependant on design, but in mathematics, in mechanics, in
hydrostatics, in music, in poetry, and also in the accomplishments of
horsemanship, fencing, and dancing. He was so perfect in all these, that
when he performed any one, the beholder was ready to imagine that it
must have been his sole study. To such vigour of intellect he joined an
elegance of features and of manners, that graced [Pg 151]the
virtues of his mind. He was affable with strangers, with citizens, with
private individuals, and with princes, among whom he long lived on a
footing of familiarity and friendship. On this account, says Vasari, it
cost him no effort always to behave and to live like a man of high
birth.

Verrocchio taught him painting; and as we have said, while still a
youth, he surpassed his master. He retained traces of his early
education through his whole life. Like Verrocchio, he designed more
readily than he painted; he assiduously cultivated mathematics; in his
design and in his countenances, he prized elegance and vivacity of
expression, more than dignity and fulness of contour; he was very
careful in drawing his horses, and in representing the skirmishes of
soldiers; and was more solicitous to improve the art than to multiply
his pictures. He was an excellent statuary, as is demonstrated by his S.
Tommaso in Orsanmichele at Florence, and by the horse in the church of
S. John and S. Paul at Venice. Vinci not only modelled in a superior
manner the three statues cast in bronze by Rustici, for the church of S.
John at Florence, and the colossal horse at Milan, but assisted by this
art, he gave that perfect relief and roundness, in which painting was
then wanting. He likewise imparted to it symmetry, grace, and spirit;
and these and his other merits gave him the title of the father of
modern painting,[131] though[Pg 152]
some of his works, as was observed by Mariette, participate, in some
degree, in the meanness of the old school.

He had two styles, the one abounded in shadow, which gives admirable
brilliancy to the contrasting lights; the other was more quiet, and
managed by means of middle tints. In each style, the grace of his
design, the expression of the mental affections, and the delicacy of his
pencil, are unrivalled. Every thing is lively in his paintings, the
foreground, the landscape, the adventitious ornaments of necklaces,
flowers, and architecture; but this gaiety is more apparent in the
heads. In these he purposely repeats the same idea, and gives them a
smile which delights the mind of a spectator. He did not, however,
consider his pictures as complete, but from a singular timidity,[132] often left them imperfect, as I shall more
fully state under the Milanese school. There he will appear with the
dignity of a consummate master, and a portion of his fame must at
present suffice for his native school.

The life of Lionardo may be divided into four periods, the first of
which includes the time he remained [Pg 153]at Florence, while
still a young man. To this era may be referred, not only the Medusa of
the royal gallery, and the few pieces mentioned by Vasari; but some
others also, less powerful in the shadows, and less diversified in the
folds of the drapery, and which present some heads more delicate than
select, and apparently derived from the school of Verrocchio. Such is
the Magdalen of the Pitti palace at Florence, and that of the
Aldobrandini palace at Rome; some Madonnas and Holy Families which are
in several collections, as in the Giustiniani and Borghese galleries;
and some heads of the Redeemer and of the Baptist, which are to be seen
in various places; although it is often reasonable to suspend our
judgment in regard to the genuineness of such pieces, on account of the
great number of Lionardo’s imitators. The child, laid in a bed richly
ornamented, enveloped in its clothes, and adorned with a necklace, which
is in the house of his excellency the Gonfaloniere of Bologna, is of a
different class, and of undoubted originality.

After this first period, Lionardo was brought to Milan by Lodovico
Sforza, “whom he highly gratified by his performance on the lyre; a
curious and new instrument, almost entirely of silver,” which Lionardo
carried with him, and had constructed with his own hands. All the
musicians there assembled were vanquished, and the whole city being
struck with admiration of his extemporaneous poetry, and his eloquence,
he was retained by the [Pg 154]prince, and remained there till 1499,
engaged in abstruse studies, and in mechanical and hydrostatical labours
for the service of the state. During this time he painted little, except
the celebrated Last Supper; but by superintending an academy of the fine
arts, he left a degree of refinement in Milan, which was so productive
of illustrious pupils, that this period may be reckoned the most
glorious era of his life.

After the misfortunes of Lodovico Sforza, he returned to Florence,
where having remained thirteen years, he went to Rome at the time his
patron Leo X. ascended the papal chair; but his stay there was short.
Some of his best works at Florence may be referred to this period; among
which number we may reckon the celebrated portrait of Mona Lisa, which
was the labour of four years, and yet was left unfinished; the Cartoon
of S. Anna, prepared for a picture in the church of the Servi, which was
never executed in colours; the cartoon of the battle of Niccolo
Piccinino, intended to dispute the palm of excellence with Michelangiolo
in the council chamber at Florence,[133]
but like the other, never executed by Vinci, after failing in an attempt
to paint it in a new method in oil on the wall. He probably employed
another method in painting [Pg 155]the Madonna with the child in her arms,
in the monastery of S. Onofrio, of Rome, a picture in the style of
Raffaello, but which is now peeling off the walls in many places. There
are some other fine pieces, which if we may be allowed to hazard a
conjecture, might be with propriety assigned to this period, in which
Lionardo, having attained his highest skill, and unoccupied by other
pursuits, painted in his best manner. Such is the specimen that was
preserved at Mantua, but which was stolen, and concealed during the sack
of the city; after many vicissitudes, however, it was sold for a high
price to the imperial court of Russia. The subject is a Holy Family; in
the back-ground is seen a woman of a very beautiful and majestic
countenance standing in an upright position. It bears the cipher of
Lionardo, consisting of a D interlaced with an L and a V, as it is seen
in the picture of the Signori Sanvitali, at Parma. The Consigliere
Pagave, who left a memorandum of it in his MSS. was the first to observe
and to recognise it, upon its being brought to Milan in 1775, where it
was also kept concealed. The same judicious critic in painting has
conjectured that this production was executed in Rome, for one of the
princesses of Mantua, or rather for the sister-in-law of Leo X.;
inasmuch as it displayed a decided emulation of Raphael’s manner, at
that time highly extolled in Rome. Such a conjecture might receive
support from his picture of a Madonna, which ornaments San Onofrio, also
in the Raphael manner; and in order that [Pg 156]this picture, and that
of Mantua just mentioned, might not be confounded by posterity with the
works of Raffaello, Lionardo, according to Signor Pagave, took care to
affix the cipher of his name. Indeed, this is not at all improbable:
both writers and painters are impelled by their natural genius to adopt
a peculiar style; and whoever will compare the portraits that remain,
expressive of the elevated, touching, penetrating, and beautiful spirit,
incessantly bent upon acquiring something still more exquisite in art,
which inspired these two prodigies, will find little difficulty in
believing that both produced works, which owing to a similarity of
natural taste, selection and admiration of the same object, might be
mistaken for specimens of the same hand. Of this number is his own
portrait, at an age which corresponds with this period, in the ducal
gallery, a head that surpasses every other in that room for energy of
expression; also another head, which is in a different cabinet, and is
called a portrait of Raffaello; together with the half-length figure of
a young nun so much commended by Bottari, and which he points out as one
of the greatest treasures in the splendid mansion of the Marchese
Niccolini. In the same rank we may include the much admired specimens in
the possession of some of the noble families at Rome; as the picture of
Christ disputing in the Temple, and the supposed portrait of queen
Giovanna, ornamented with fine architecture, in the Doria palace; the
Vanity and [Pg
157]Modesty in the Barberini palace, the tints of which no
pencil has been able to imitate; the Madonna of the Albani Palace, that
appears to be requesting the lily which the infant Jesus holds in his
hand, while he draws back, as if unwilling to part with it; a picture of
exquisite grace, and preferred by Mengs to every other painting
contained in that fine collection. It would, however, be presumptuous to
assign a date to every picture of an artist who became early a
distinguished painter, and who frequently discontinued a work before it
was completed.

When this celebrated artist had attained his sixty-third year, he
appears to have renounced the art for ever. Francis I. who saw his Last
Supper at Milan, about the year 1515, attempted to saw it from the wall,
that it might be transported to France; and not succeeding in his
project, was desirous of possessing the artist, though now an old man.
He invited Vinci to his court, and the artist felt little regret at
leaving Florence, where, since his return, he found in the young
Bonarruoti a rival that had already contended with him, and was even
employed in preference to Vinci both in Florence and in Rome; because
the former gave them works, if we may credit Vasari, while the latter
amused them with words.[134] It is known that they
had a quarrel; and Lionardo consulting his repose,[Pg 158]
which their emulation embittered, passed over into France, where, before
he had employed his pencil, he expired in the arms of Francis I., in the
year 1519.

Though his style is highly worthy of imitation, it was less followed
in Florence than in Milan; nor is this surprising. Vinci left at
Florence no picture in public; he there taught no pupil; and it appears
that he retained Salai, whom I shall notice among the Milanese artists,
in the station of a dependant, during his residence at Florence. In
Florence we meet with pictures in the possession of private individuals,
that seem the work of Vinci; and sometimes the dealers extol them as
his, gravely adding that they cost a large sum. Such pieces are probably
the productions of Salai, or of other imitators of Lionardo, who availed
themselves of his cartoons, his drawings, or his few paintings. We are
informed that Lorenzo di Credi, whose family name was Sciarpelloni, made
use of them more than any other Florentine. Educated, as well as Vinci,
in the school of Verrocchio, he followed rules nearly similar; he was
patient, and aimed at the same object; but he approached less closely to
the softness of the moderns. He copied, with such precision, a picture
by Lionardo, which was sent to Spain, that the copy was not
distinguishable from the original. Private houses contain many of his
circular Holy Families, of which the invention and gracefulness remind
us of Lionardo. I possess one which represents the Virgin sitting with
Christ in her arms, and at her side [Pg 159]the young S. John, to
whom she turns as if to lay hold of him, at which the child seems timid,
and draws back: it is in a lovely manner; but the style is not well
suited to such a subject. Some of Credi’s pictures, which Bottari did
not meet with in public places, are now exhibited; as the Magdalen with
S. Nicholas and S. Julian, adduced by Vasari as an example of a
picturesque and highly finished style. His Christ in the manger may be
also seen at S. Chiara; and it is one of his finest pictures, for the
beauty of the faces, the vigour of expression, the finish of the
back-ground, and the good colouring of the whole. Both in this, and in
his other original pictures, we may discern some imitation of Vinci, and
of Pietro Perugino, another friend of Credi: he possesses, however, some
originality, which his scholar, Giovanni Antonio Sogliani, successfully
imitated and improved.

This artist lived twenty-four years with Lorenzo; and in imitation of
his model was contented to paint less than his contemporaries, that he
might do it better. He likewise attempted to imitate Porta; but his
natural disposition led him rather to follow the simple grace of his
instructor, than the sublimity of this master. Few of this school can
compare with him for the natural appearance he gave the naked as well as
the clothed figure, or for the conception of “handsome, good-natured,
sweet, and graceful features.”[135]
Like Lionardo, he possessed the rare talent of representing images of
[Pg
160]virtue by the faces of his saints, and of vice by those
of his wicked characters. This is exemplified in his Cain and Abel, in
the cathedral of Pisa, where he has introduced a landscape, that of
itself would do honour to any painter. With equal felicity in the figure
and the back-ground, he painted the crucifixion of S. Arcadius, which
was brought from another church to that of S. Lorenzo at Florence, where
it still remains. He entered into competition with Perino del Vaga, with
Mecherino, and Andrea del Sarto, at Pisa, where he was noted for his
dilatoriness, but admired for that happy simplicity and elegance which
he always preserved. Some have praised a few of his pictures as
inclining to the manner of Raffaello, a commendation also bestowed on
Luini, and other followers of Lionardo. He had pupils who afterwards
followed other masters: but a Zanobi di Poggino, who painted many
pictures for Florence, which are now unknown, appears to have had no
other master.

One of the best imitators of Vinci, almost equal to Luini himself,
may be recognized in the sacristy of S. Stephen, at Bologna, in which
there is a S. John in the Desert, with the inscription Jul. Flor. If this
be read Julius Florentinus, the artist is unknown; but perhaps we
should read Julianus, and ascribe it to Bugiardini. We are
informed by Vasari that he was at Bologna, and that he painted a Madonna
between two Saints, for the church of S. Francis; where it still is, and
approaches the style of Lionardo fully as much as any other manner.
[Pg
161]Both pictures, on comparing the style, seem the work of
the same artist; and to this artist also belongs a Nativity, in the
cloister of the canons of S. Salvatore; and various pictures that may be
found in some private houses with a similar epigraph. If we embrace the
opinion of Vasari, we must consider Giuliano as a feeble painter, but
uncommonly careful, and consequently slow. We should rather suppose him
the imitator of any other artist than of Vinci; for he is described as
the fellow student of Bonarruoti, the assistant of Albertinelli, and the
colourist of some works of Fra Bartolommeo. One can readily perceive
that Vasari was wrong, as in many other instances, in his slight
estimation of this artist, on which account he has not paid a due
attention to his works or to his style. He has represented this man as
amiable in disposition, as a picture of contented poverty, as also an
unbounded admirer of his Madonnas, and very profuse in his own
commendations; qualities which rendered him highly amusing even to
Michelangiolo. Intent on amusing his reader with the character of the
man, he has not perhaps sufficiently rated the merits of the artist.
This is proved by the little respect with which he mentions the
martyrdom of S. Catherine in S. Maria Novella, which Bottari has called
“a work worthy of admiration,” not only for the figures of the soldiers,
which, as Giuliano found himself unequal to the performance, were
outlined with charcoal by Michelangiolo, and afterwards painted by
Giuliano; but for the [Pg 162]other parts of the story. The truth
seems to be, that he had not much invention, and did not adhere to one
style; but now and then borrowed a thought; as in the Nativity already
noticed, where one may recognize the style of Fra Bartolommeo. On
considering each figure separately, he appears on the whole happy in his
imitations, especially in Bologna, where the S. John is held in the
highest esteem. In Florence he painted many Madonnas and Holy Families,
which, with the aid of the Bolognese pictures, may perhaps be recognized
as his by their clearness, the masculine and somewhat heavy proportions,
and the mouths sometimes expressive of melancholy; although the subject
did not properly call for it. One of these is to be seen in the
collection of the noble family Orlandini.

Michelangiolo Bonarruoti, of whom memoirs were published by two of
his disciples while he was still living,[136]
was born twenty-three years after Lionardo da Vinci. Like him he was
endowed with a ready wit, and consummate eloquence. His bon mots rival
those of the Grecian painters, which are recorded by Dati, and he is
even esteemed the most witty and lively of his race. He possessed not
the polish and elegance of Vinci, but his genius was more vast and
daring. Hence he attained the three sister arts in an eminent degree,
and has left specimens in painting, sculpture, and architecture,[Pg 163]
sufficient to immortalize three different artists. Like Vinci he gave
proofs of talent in his boyish years, that compelled his master to
confess his own inferiority. This master was Domenico Ghirlandaio, who
sent his own brother Benedetto to paint in France, from jealousy of his
preeminence; and, perhaps, fearing the wonderful powers of Bonarruoti,
turned his attention to sculpture. Lorenzo the Magnificent, desirous of
encouraging the statuary art, which was on the decline in his country,
had collected in his gardens, adjacent to the monastery of S. Mark, many
antique marbles; and committing the care of them to Bertoldo, a scholar
of Donatello, he requested of Ghirlandaio some young man to be there
educated as a sculptor; and this artist sent him Michelangiolo. This
transaction was disliked by his father, Lodovico, in whose mind the art
appeared degrading to his high birth; but he had no reason to repent it.
On obtaining his object, Lorenzo not only added to the fortune of
Lodovico, but retained Michelangiolo in his house, rather as a relation
than a dependant, placing him at the same table with his own sons, with
Poliziano, and other learned men who then graced his residence. During
the four years that he remained there he laid the foundation of all his
acquirements; he especially studied poetry, and thus was enabled to
rival Vinci in his Sonnets, and to relish Dante, a bard of a sublimity
beyond the reach of vulgar souls.[137]
Bonarruoti studied [Pg 164]design in the chapel of Masaccio, he
copied the antiques in the garden of Lorenzo, and attended to anatomy, a
science, to which he is said to have dedicated twelve years, with great
injury to his health, and which determined his style, his practice, and
his glory.[138] To this study he owed
that style from which he obtained the name of the Dante of the art. As
this poet made choice of materials very difficult to be reduced to
verse, and from an abstruse subject extracted the praise of sublimity
and grandeur, in like manner Michelangiolo explored the untrodden path
of design, and in pursuing it, displayed powers of execution at once
scientific and magnificent. In his works, man assumes that form which,
according to Quintilian,[139] Zeuxis delighted to
represent; nervous, muscular, and robust: his foreshortenings, and his
attitudes are most daring; his expression full of vivacity and energy.
The poet and the painter have other[Pg 165] points of resemblance;
a display of knowledge, from which Dante appears sometimes to critics, a
declaimer rather than a poet, Bonarruoti, an anatomist rather than a
painter; a neglect of elegance, from which the first often, and, if we
subscribe to the opinions of the Caracci and of Mengs, the second
sometimes, degenerated into harshness.[140]
On points like these, which depend wholly on taste, I shall not decide,
but content myself with warning the reader that such comparisons should
not be pushed too far: for this poet, from his desire of surmounting
difficulties in conception and versification, has sometimes so deviated
from the usual path, that he cannot always be proposed as a model for
imitation: but every design of Michelangiolo, every sketch, as well as
his more finished works, may be regarded as a model in art; if in Dante
we trace marks of labour, in Michelangiolo every thing exhibits nature
and facility.[141] It was one of [Pg 166]his
observations, that the compasses ought to lie in the eyes; a principle
apparently drawn from Diodorus Siculus, where he asserts that the
Egyptians had the rules of measurement in their hands; the Greeks in
their eyes.[142] Nor is such eulogy
inapplicable to our artist; who, whether he handled his pen, his chisel,
or a piece of charcoal, even in sport, still displayed infallible skill
in every part of his design.

Bonarruoti was extolled to the skies by Ariosto for his painting, as
well as for his sculpture;[143]
but Condivi and others prefer his chisel to his pencil; and he
undoubtedly exercised it more professedly and with greater reputation.
His Moses on the tomb of Julius II. in the church of S. Pietro in
Vincoli, his Christ in the Minerva, his Piety in S. Pietro Vaticano, and
the statues in the church of S. Lorenzo at Florence, and in the ducal
palaces, must be acknowledged to be the finest specimens of sculpture,
in themselves forming schools of the revived art. I will not extol them
so highly as Vasari does the colossal David, placed near the Palazzo
Vecchio, when he says “that it bore away the palm from every statue,
modern or ancient, either Grecian [Pg 167]or Roman;” nor shall I
follow his annotator, Bottari, in whose judgment Bonarruoti has greatly
surpassed the Greeks, who are not so successful in statues larger than
the life. I have heard competent judges remark, that we do an injury to
the Grecian masters, not only by preferring any modern to them, but even
by comparing them; but my pen ought not to wander too far from the
canvass and from colouring.

The few remaining drawings of Michelangiolo demonstrate how little he
painted. Conscious of his superiority in sculpture, he seems to have
dreaded appearing as a second or a third-rate painter. The majority of
his compositions that have reached our time, like those of Vinci, are
mere outlines; and therefore, though many cabinets are rich in his
drawings, none can boast the possession of his paintings. The cartoon of
the battle of Pisa, prepared for a competition with Vinci in the saloon
of the public palace at Florence, is said to have been a wonderful
production in this species of art. Mariette supposes, in the letter
above quoted, that the example of Vinci paved the way for this great
undertaking, which he confesses surpassed the original. Michelangiolo
did not rest satisfied with representing the Florentines cased in
armour, and mingling with their enemies; but choosing the moment of the
attack upon their van, while bathing in the river Arno, he seized the
opportunity of representing many naked figures, as they rushed to arms
from the water; by [Pg 168]which he was enabled to introduce a
prodigious variety of foreshortenings, attitudes the most energetic, in
a word, the highest perfection of his peculiar excellences. Cellini
observes in the thirteenth chapter of his life, that when Michelangiolo
“painted the chapel of Pope Julius, he reached not half that dignity;”
and Vasari adds, that “all the artists who studied and designed after
this cartoon, became eminent;” among these he reckons the best
Florentine artists of the second epoch, from the time of Frate, and to
them he joined Raffaello d’Urbino. This is a point of critical
disquisition not yet sufficiently cleared up, though much has been
written both for and against the opinion of Vasari. I am not of the
number of those who suppose that the labours of Bonarruoti had no
influence on the style of Raffaello, because it appears dissimilar. It
would seem to me an act of injustice to this divine genius, to imagine
that profiting as he did by the finest productions of the art, he
neglected those sources of information. I therefore firmly believe, that
Raffaello likewise studied Michelangiolo, which he himself appears to
acknowledge, as I shall afterwards relate. I cannot, however, grant to
Vasari that he saw this cartoon on his first short visit to Florence.[144]

[Pg
169]This cartoon has perished, and report accuses Baccio
Bandinelli of tearing it in pieces, either that others might not derive
advantage from viewing it, or because from partiality to Vinci, and
hatred to Bonarruoti, he wished to remove a subject of comparison, that
might exalt the reputation of the latter above that of Lionardo. This
circumstance is not authenticated, nor are we much interested in the
supposed criminal, who though eminent as a designer and a sculptor,
painted a very few pieces, that may almost all be reduced to an Ebriety
of Noah, and the Imprisonment of the Fathers of the Church. Baccio soon
renounced the pencil, and Michelangiolo appears to have done the same,
for he was called to Rome by Julius II. as a sculptor, and when the
Pope, about 1508, asked him to paint the ceiling of the chapel, he
declined it, and wished to transfer the commission to Raffaello.

He was, however, constrained to undertake it, and, unaccustomed to
work in fresco, he invited some of the best painters in this branch from
Florence,[145] that they might assist,
or rather that they [Pg 170]might instruct him. When he had
acquired what he deemed necessary, he effaced their labours entirely,
and set about the work without an assistant. When the task was about
half finished, he exhibited it for a little time to the public. He then
applied himself to the other part, but proceeding more slowly than the
impatience of the pontiff could endure, he was compelled by threats to
use quicker despatch, and without assistance finished the greater part,
then incomplete, in twenty months. I have said that he was unaided, for
such was the delicacy of his taste, that no artist could please him; and
as in sculpture, every piercer, file, and chisel, which he used, was the
work of his own hands, so in painting, “he prepared his own colours, and
did not commit the mixing and other necessary manipulations to mechanics
or to boys.”[146] Here may be seen those
grand and finely varied figures of the Prophets and the Sybils, the
style of which is pronounced by Lomazzo, an impartial judge, because an
artist of a different school, “to be the finest in the world.”[147] There, indeed, the dignity of the aspects,
the solemn majesty of the eyes, a certain wild and uncommon casting of
the drapery, and[Pg 171] the attitudes, whether representing
rest or motion, announce an order of beings who hold converse with the
Deity, and whose mouths utter what he inspires. Amid this display of
genius, the figure most admired by Vasari is that of Isaiah, “who,
absorbed in meditation, places his right hand in a book, to denote where
he had been reading; and with his left elbow on the book, and his cheek
resting on that hand, he turns round his head, without moving the rest
of his body, on being called by one of the children that are behind him;
a figure which, if attentively studied, might fully teach the precepts
of a master.” No less science is displayed in his pictures of the
Creation of the World, of the Deluge, of Judith, and in the other
compartments of that vast ceiling. All is varied and fanciful in the
garments, the foreshortenings, and the attitudes: all is novel in the
composition and the designs. He that contemplates the pictures of Sandro
and his associates on the walls, and then, raising his eyes to the
ceiling, beholds Michelangiolo “soaring like an eagle above them all,”
can hardly believe that a man, not exercised in painting, in what may be
considered as his first essay, should so nearly approach the greatest
masters of antiquity, and thus open a new career to modern artists.

In the succeeding pontificates, Michelangiolo, always occupied in
sculpture and architecture, almost wholly abandoned painting, till he
was induced [Pg
172]by Paul III. to resume the pencil. Clement VII. had
conceived the design of employing him in the Sistine Chapel on two other
grand historical pictures; the Fall of the Angels, over the gate, and
the Last Judgment, in the opposite façade, over the altar. Michelangiolo
had composed designs for the Last Judgment, and Paul III. being aware of
this, commanded, or rather entreated him, to commence the work; for he
went to the house of Michelangiolo, accompanied by ten Cardinals, an
honour, except in this instance, unknown in the annals of the art. On
the suggestion of F. Sebastiano del Piombo, he was desirous that the
picture should be painted in oil; but this he could not procure, for
Michelangiolo replied, that he would not undertake it except in fresco,
and that oil painting was employment only fit for women, or idlers of
mean capacity. He caused the plaister prepared by Frate to be thrown
down, and substituting a rough-cast suited to his purpose, he completed
the work in eight years, and exhibited it in 1541. If in the ceiling of
the chapel he could not fully satisfy himself, and was unable to retouch
it as he wished to do after it was dry, in this immense painting he had
an opportunity of fulfilling his intentions, and of demonstrating to the
full the powers of his genius. He peopled this space, and disposed
innumerable figures awakened by the sound of the last trumpet; bands of
angels and of devils, of elected and condemned souls:[Pg 173]
some of them rising from the tomb, others standing on the earth; some
flying to the regions of bliss, while others are dragged down to
punishment.

Bottari observes[148] that there have been
some who affected to depreciate this picture, on comparing it with the
works of other artists, by remarking how much he might have added to the
expression, to the colouring, or to the beauty of the contours: but
Lomazzo, Felibien,[149] and several others, have
not failed on that account to acknowledge him supreme in that peculiar
branch of the profession, at which he aimed in all his works, and
especially in this of his Last Judgment. The subject itself appeared
rather created than selected by him. To a genius so comprehensive, and
so skilled in drawing the human figure, no subject could be better
adapted than the Resurrection; to an artist who delighted in the awful,
no story more suitable than the day of supernal terrors. He saw
Raffaello pre-eminent in every other department of the art: he foresaw
that in this alone could he expect to be triumphant; and, perhaps, he
indulged the hope also that posterity would adjudge the palm to him who
excelled all others in the most arduous walk of art. Vasari, his
confidant, and the participator of his thoughts, seems to hint at
something of this sort in two passages in his Life of Michelangiolo.[150] He informs us, “that applying himself to the
human [Pg
174]figure, the great object of art, he neglected the
attractions of colouring, all sporting of the pencil, and fantastic
novelty:” and again, “neither landscapes, trees, nor houses, are to be
seen in it, and we even look in vain for some degree of variety and
ornament, which are never attempted, probably because he disdained to
submit his towering genius to such objects.” I cannot suppose in
Michelangiolo such arrogance, nor such negligence of his own improvement
in an art which embraces every object in nature, that he would limit
himself to the naked figure, which is a single branch, and to one only
character, his own sublime and awful manner. I rather imagine, that
discovering his strength in this style, he did not attempt any other.
There he proceeded as in his peculiar province, and, what one cannot
wholly commend, he observed no limits, and wished for no control. This
Last Judgment was filled with such a profusion of nudity, that it was in
great danger of being destroyed: from a regard to the decency of the
sanctuary, Paul IV. proposed to white-wash it, and was hardly appeased
with the correction of its most glaring indelicacies, by some drapery
introduced here and there by Daniel da Volterra, on whom the facetious
Romans, from this circumstance, conferred the nick-name of the
Breeches-maker.[151]

Other corrections have been proposed in it by different critics, both
with regard to the costume and the conception. The artist has been
censured [Pg
175]for confounding sacred with profane history; for
introducing the angels of Revelation with the Stygian ferryman; Christ
sitting in judgment, and Minos, who assigns his proper station to each
of the damned. To this profanity he added satire, by pourtraying in
Minos the features of a master of the ceremonies, who, in the hearing of
the Pope, had pronounced this picture more suitable for a bagnio than a
church;[152] but Bonarruoti did not
set the example in such composition. Scannelli has expressed a wish that
there had been greater variety in the proportion, and muscularity
according to the diversity of age;[153]
although, by an evident anachronism, this criticism is attributed to
Vinci, who died in 1519. Albani, as quoted by Malvasia,[154] says, that “had Michelangiolo contemplated
Raffaello, he might have learned to dispose the crowd that surround the
judgment-seat of Christ in a superior manner;” but here I am uncertain
whether he blames the composition or the perspective.[155] I can discover, however, an anachronism in
his imagining the Last Judgment an earlier work than it really is by
many years; as if it had been executed before Raffaello came to
Rome.

[Pg
176]I find that Albani rendered justice to the merit of
Michelangiolo; he reckoned not three great masters in painting only, as
is now commonly done; but he added a fourth, and thought that Bonarruoti
surpassed Raffaello, Tiziano, and Coreggio, “in form and in grandeur.”[156] We may here observe, that when Michelangiolo
was so inclined, he could obtain distinction for those endowments in
which the others excelled. It is a vulgar error to suppose that he had
no idea of grace and beauty; the Eve of the Sistine Chapel turns to
thank her maker, on her creation, with an attitude so fine and lovely,
that it would do honour to the school of Raffaello. Annibale Caracci
admired this, and many other naked figures in this grand ceiling, so
highly, that he proposed them to himself as models in the art, and
according to Bellori,[157] preferred them to those
of the Last Judgment, that appeared to him too anatomical. In
chiaroscuro Michelangiolo had not the skill and delicacy of Coreggio;
but the paintings of the Vatican have a force and relief much commended
by Renfesthein, an eminent connoisseur, who, on passing from the Sistine
Chapel to the Farnesian gallery, remarked how greatly in this respect
the Caracci themselves were eclipsed by Bonarruoti. Dolce speaks less
favourably of his colouring,[158]
for this author was captivated by Tiziano and the Venetian school: no
[Pg
177]one, however, can deny that the colouring of
Michelangiolo in this chapel is admirably adapted to the design,[159] and the same, also, would have been the case
with his two pictures in the Pauline Chapel, the Crucifixion of S. Peter
and the Conversion of S. Paul, but they have sustained great injury from
time.

None of his paintings are to be seen in public, except in those two
chapels; and those described as his in collections, are almost all the
works of other hands. During his residence at Florence he painted an
exquisite Leda for Alphonso, Duke of Ferrara, to whom however it was not
sold. Michelangiolo, offended at the manner in which it was demanded by
one of the courtiers of that prince, refused to let him have it: but
made a present of it to his pupil, Antonio Mini, who carried it to
France. Vasari describes it as “a grand picture, painted in distemper,
that seemed as if breathed on the canvass;” and Mariette affirms, in his
notes on Condivi, that he saw the picture in a damaged state, and that
it appeared as if Michelangiolo had there forgot his usual style, and
“approached the tone of Tiziano.” This expression inclines one to
suspect that he is describing a copy taken in oil by some able painter;
especially as D’Argenville informs us that this painting was burnt in
the reign of Louis XIII. It is said there is also one of his pictures,
representing the Virgin and the Divine Infant, in an upright position,
standing [Pg
178]near the cradle upon a rock, a figure drawn of the size
of nature, formerly in possession of the noble house of Mocci (Mozzi) at
Florence; and afterwards transferred to the cathedral of Burgos, where
it still remains.[160] Michelangiolo executed
likewise a circular Holy Family, with some naked figures in the
distance, for Agnol Doni. It is now in the tribune of the Florentine
gallery, in a high state of preservation. It is praised by Richardson
and some others for the vigour of its tints, and is painted in
distemper. Placed among the works of the greatest masters of every
school that vie with each other in this theatre of art, it appears the
most scientific, but the least pleasing picture: its author seems the
most powerful designer, but the feeblest colourist among them all. In it
aerial perspective is neglected, inasmuch as the figures are not
indistinct in proportion to their diminution, a fault not uncommon in
that age. I cannot so readily decide whether his style appears in
certain pictures that are described as his in several collections in
Florence, Rome, and Bologna, as well as in the catalogue of the imperial
gallery at Vienna, and in the royal collections in Spain, that represent
the subjects of the Crucifixion,[161]
[Pg
179]the Pietà,[162] the Infant Jesus asleep,
and the Prayer in the Garden. They resemble the design of Michelangiolo,
but their execution betrays another pencil. This is rendered probable by
the silence of Vasari; their high finish seems incredible in an artist,
who, even in sculpture, very rarely attempted it; and our scepticism is
confirmed by the opinion of Mengs, and other competent judges, whom I
have consulted to elucidate this point. Some of them, in which the
distribution of the tints was perhaps originally made under his
inspection, resemble his style. These may have been copied by
Fiamminghi, as the tints of some of them indicate, or by other Italian
artists of the various schools, since they differ so much in their mode
of colouring. Some copies may be the work of the scholars of
Michelangiolo, though Vasari informs us they were all but feeble
artists. He gives us the names of those who dwelt in his house; Pietro
Urbano of Pistoia, a man of genius, but very indolent; Antonio Mini of
Florence, and Ascanio Condivi da Ripatransone, both eager in their
profession, but of little talent, [Pg 180]and therefore the
authors of no work worthy of record. The people of Ferrara include their
countryman Filippi in this school, an artist unknown to Vasari, but
worthy of notice. Lomazzi mentions Marco da Pino as one of the number.
To these Palomino adds Castelli of Bergamo, (whose master, while he was
in Rome, is not noticed by any of our writers) and Gaspar Bacerra, of
Andalusia, a celebrated Spanish painter. We may likewise add Alonzo
Berrugese, who is reckoned by Vasari only among those that studied the
cartoon of Michelangiolo, at Florence, with Francia, and other
strangers, who were not among his disciples. In the history of Spanish
painting, there is mentioned by all the writers a Roman, of the name of
Matteo Perez d’Alessio, or d’Alessi. They recount that he lived many
years at Seville, and produced many works there, among which his S.
Cristoforo, in the cathedral, which cost 4,000 crowns, is by far the
grandest. They add, that Luigi Vargas, a very able disciple of Perino
del Vaga, having returned from Rome, Alessi was glad to leave the field
open to him, and to return into Italy; where Preziado finds him. Indeed
he rather finds him at Rome, and at the Sistine Chapel, where two
histories, painted “opposite to the Last Judgment of his master,” are
ascribed to him; these however are the production of Matteo da Leccio,
who aimed at imitating Michelangiolo and Salviati; but he is only
despised by Taia, and by every one who has a grain of sense. He executed
this work in the time of Gregory XIII.; and neither he nor the
supposititious Alessio,[163] [Pg 181]an imaginary name, had
any connexion with Michelangiolo. The rest we refer to the note, in
order to proceed without delay to names which may boast a better title
to such a connexion.

Many other figures and historic compositions were designed by
Michelangiolo, and painted at Rome by F. Sebastiano del Piombo, an
excellent colourist of the Venetian school. The Pietà in the church of
S. Francis of Viterbo,[164] the Flagellation, [Pg 182]and
Transfiguration, with some other pieces at S. Pietro in Montorio, are of
this number. Two Annunciations, designed by Bonarruoti, were coloured
for altar-pieces by Marcello Venusti of Mantua, a scholar of Perino, who
adopted the style of Michelangiolo, without apparent affectation. The
one was put up in the church of S. Giovanni Laterano, the other in the
Della Pace. He is said to have painted also some cabinet pictures after
designs of Bonarruoti; as the Limbo,[165]
in the Colonna palace; the Christ going to Mount Calvary, and some other
pieces in the Borghese; also the celebrated copy of the Last Judgment,
which he painted for Cardinal Farnese, that still exists in Naples.
Although a good designer, and the author of many pieces described by
Baglione, he obtained greater celebrity by clothing the inventions of
Michelangiolo in exquisite beauty, especially in small pictures, of
which, Vasari says, he executed a great many. This writer, and Orlandi
following him, have erroneously named him Raffaello, not Marcello.
Batista Franco coloured the Rape of Ganymede, after a design of
Bonarruoti, which was also done by the artist who painted the small
picture which D’Argenville describes in France; and another on a larger
scale, to be seen at Rome in the possession of the Colonna family: [Pg 183]it
was also painted in oil by Giulio Clovio. Pontormo employed himself in a
similar manner at Florence, on the design of Venus and Cupid; and on the
cartoon of Christ appearing to Mary Magdalen, a work which was
re-executed by him for Città di Castello, Bonarruoti having said, that
none could perform it better. Francesco Salviati painted another of his
designs, and Bugiardini, as we have already noticed, executed some
figures designed by him. Such is the information transmitted to us by
Vasari; and he would have been justly reprehensible if he had written
with such minuteness on the drawings of Michelangiolo, and of those
employed to finish them, and had neglected to inform us as to those
pieces which Michelangiolo himself executed. Hence it is not easy to
avoid scepticism on the genuineness of the Annunciation, the
Flagellation, or any other oil painting ascribed to Bonarruoti by
Bottari, D’Argenville, or the describers of collections. We have noticed
his aversion to this method of painting. We are informed that during his
lifetime he employed others in this branch; and we know that after his
death artists availed themselves of his designs; as Sabbatini did in a
Pietà for the sacristy of the Church of S. Peter, a work copied by some
other artist for the Madonna de’ Monti, and some others made known to us
by Baglione. Can we then hesitate as to the originality of any picture,
if we give credit to the oil paintings of Michelangiolo? The portraits
of Bonarruoti ascribed [Pg 184]to his own hand, are also, in my
opinion, supposititious. Vasari knew of no likeness of him except the
figure cast in bronze by Ricciarelli, and two portraits, the one painted
by Bugiardini, the other by Jacopo del Conte. From these are derived the
very old and well known portraits, preserved in the ducal gallery, in
the collection of the Capitol, in the Caprara palace at Bologna, and
that in the possession of Cardinal Zelada at Rome.

Franco, Marco da Siena, Tibaldi, and other foreign artists, who have
imitated Michelangiolo, shall be noticed under their respective schools.
The Florentine school abounded in them, and these we shall consider all
together in the succeeding epoch. I shall here only notice two, who
lived on intimate habits with him, who executed works under his own eye,
and for a long time received directions from his own lips; circumstances
which cannot be said of Vasari, of Salviati, nor of any other able
artist of his school. One of these was Francesco Granacci of Florence,
characterized by Vasari as an excellent artist, who derived much of his
merit from his early intimacy with Michelangiolo. He was the fellow
student of the latter, under Domenico Ghirlandaio, and also in the
garden of Lorenzo; and from his precepts, and by studying his cartoon,
he enlarged his own manner, and approached near the modern style. After
the death of his master, he remained with the brothers of that artist,
to complete some of the works of the deceased, and was employed in
painting some Holy[Pg 185] Families, and cabinet pictures, in
distemper, which might easily pass under another name, as they resemble
the best productions of that school. In his new style he never entirely
abandoned the simplicity of the old manner; but there is a specimen in
the church of S. Jacopo without-the-walls, more studied in design, and
more determined in the colouring. In this picture S. Zanobi and S.
Francis appear near our Lady under a lofty canopy; a subject then
familiar in every school. His style seems more matured in an Assumption
which was in S. Pier Maggiore, a church now suppressed: here he
inserted, between two other figures, a S. Thomas, wholly in the manner
of Michelangiolo. Few other considerable paintings can be ascribed to
this artist, who was left in easy circumstances by his father, and
painted rather as a commendable amusement than from necessity.

Ricciarelli, usually known in history by the name of Daniele di
Volterra, enjoys a greater name, and is generally described as the most
successful follower of Michelangiolo. Educated in Siena, according to
report, by Peruzzi and Razzi, he became the assistant of Perino del
Vaga, and acquired an astonishing talent for imitating Bonarruoti, who
greatly esteemed him, appointed him his substitute in the labours of the
Vatican, brought him into notice, and assisted and enriched him with
designs. It is known that Michelangiolo was often with Daniele when he
painted in the Farnese palace, and it is said that Bonarruoti, during
his [Pg
186]absence, “O vero o falso che la fama suoni,” mounted the
scaffold, and sketched with charcoal a colossal head that is still seen
there. Volterra let it remain, that posterity might judge of the powers
of Bonarruoti, who without pre-meditation and in mere jest, had finished
a work in such proportion, and so perfect. Nor did Daniele execute,
without the assistance of Michelangiolo, the wonderful Descent from the
Cross in the Trinità de’ Monti, which, together with the Transfiguration
by Raffaello, and the S. Girolamo of Domenichino, may be reckoned among
the finest paintings in Rome.[166]
We seem to behold the mournful spectacle, and the Redeemer sinking with
the natural relaxation of a dead body in descending: the pious men
engaged in various offices, and thrown in different and contrasted
attitudes, appear assiduously occupied with the sacred remains which
they seem to venerate; the mother of Jesus having fainted between the
sorrowing women, the beloved disciple extends his arms and bends over
her. There is a truth in the naked figures that seems perfect nature; a
colouring in the faces and the whole piece that suits the subject, and
is more determined than delicate; a relief, a harmony, and, in a word, a
skill that might do honour to the hand of Michelangiolo himself, had the
picture been inscribed with his name. To this the artist, I believe,
alluded, when he painted Bonarruoti with a mirror near it; as if [Pg 187]in
this picture he might behold a reflection of himself. Volterra painted
some other Crucifixions in the Orsini Chapel, where he was employed for
seven years; but they are inferior to that described above. He employed
his pupils in another chapel of that church, (Michele Alberti, according
to the Guide to Rome, and Gio. Paolo Rossetti,) and supplied them with
designs; one of which he himself executed in a picture, with figures of
a moderate size. The subject is the Murder of the Innocents, and it is
now deposited in the Tribune of the Royal Gallery of Florence; an honour
that speaks more for it than my eulogy. The Grand Duke Leopold purchased
it at a high price from a church in Volterra, where there is now no
other public specimen of this master. The Ricciarelli family possess a
fine Elijah, as an inheritance and memorial of this great man; and a
beautiful fresco remains in a study in the house of the Dottor Mazzoni,
relating to which we may refer the reader to the excellent
historiographer of Volterra, (tom. i. p. 177).

There was a youth of Florence, named Baccio della Porta, because his
study was near a gate of that city; but having become a Dominican, he
obtained that of Fra Bartolommeo di S. Marco, from the convent where he
resided, or, more shortly, that of Frate. Whilst he studied under
Rosselli, he became enamoured of the grand chiaro-scuro of Vinci,
and emulated him assiduously. We read that his friend Albertinelli
studied modelling, and[Pg 188] copied ancient basso-relievos, from a
desire of obtaining correctness in his shadows; and we may conjecture
the same of Baccio, although Vasari is silent on this head. The Prince
has a Nativity and Circumcision of Christ in his early manner; most
graceful little pictures, resembling miniatures. About this period he
also painted his own portrait in the lay habit, a full-length figure,
most skilfully inclosed in a small space, and now in the splendid
collection of the Signori Montecatini at Lucca. He entered the cloister
in 1500, at the age of thirty-one, and for four years never handled the
pencil. The execution of Savonarola, whom he knew and respected, preyed
upon his mind; and, like Botticelli and Credi, he gave up the art. When
he again resumed it, he seems to have advanced daily in improvement,
during the last thirteen or fourteen years of his life; so that his
earlier productions, though very beautiful, are inferior to his last.
His improvement was accelerated by Raffaello, who came to Florence to
pursue his studies in 1504, contracted a friendship for him, and was at
the same time his scholar in colouring, and his master in perspective.[167] Having gone to Rome some years after, to see
the works of Bonarruoti and Raffaello, if I am not deceived, he greatly
elevated [Pg
189]his style; but his manner was at all times more
conformable to that of his friend than of his fellow citizen, uniting
dignity with grace in his heads and in his general design. The picture
in the Pitti palace is a proof of this, which Pietro da Cortona imagined
to be the work of Raffaello, though Frate had painted it before he went
to Rome. In that place he appeared with diminished lustre, says the
historian, in the presence of those two great luminaries of the art, and
speedily returned to Florence; a circumstance which also happened to
Andrea del Sarto, to Rosso, and to other truly eminent masters, whose
modesty was equal to the confidence of innumerable artists of
mediocrity, who frequently enjoyed at Rome much ill placed patronage.
Frate left there two figures of the Chief Apostles, that are preserved
in the Quirinal palace; the S. Peter, which was not finished, had its
last touches from the hand of Raffaello. One of his pictures is also in
the Vatican palace, where it was deposited by Pius VI., with many other
choice paintings. A Holy Family exists in the Corsini collection by the
same hand, and is perhaps his finest and most graceful performance.

His most finished productions are in Tuscany, which boasts various
altar-pieces, and all of them very valuable. Their composition is in the
usual style of the age, which may be observed in the production of every
school, not even excepting Raffaello, and which continued in the
Florentine until the time of Pontormo; viz. a Madonna seated, [Pg 190]with
an infant Jesus, and accompanied by saints. But in this hackneyed
subject, Frate distinguished himself by grand architecture, by
magnificent flights of steps, and by the skilful grouping of his saints
and cherubims. He introduces them, one while seated in concert, another
time poised on their wings to minister to their king and queen; of whom
some support the drapery, others have charge of the pavilion, a rich and
happily conceived ornament, which he readily connected with such
thrones, even in cabinet pictures. He departed from this mode of
composition in a picture that he left at S. Romano of Lucca, called
Madonna della Misericordia, who sits in an attitude full of grace, amid
a crowd of devotees, shielding them with her mantle from the wrath of
heaven. His rivals occasioned the production of two more altar-pieces:
according to the example of other eminent men, he answered their sneers
by his classic performances; a retort the most galling to the invidious.
They had stigmatized him as unequal to large proportions; and he filled
a large piece with a single figure of S. Mark, which is admired as a
prodigy of art in the ducal gallery, and is described by a learned
foreigner as a Grecian statue transformed into a picture. He was accused
of being ignorant of the anatomy of the human figure; and to refute this
calumny he introduced a naked S. Sebastian in another picture, which was
so perfect in drawing and in colouring, that “it received the unbounded
applause of artists;” but becoming too much the admiration [Pg 191]of
the female devotees of that church, it was first removed by the fathers
into a private room, and was afterwards sold, and sent into France.

To sum up all, he knew how to excel at pleasure, in every department
of painting. His design is most chaste, and his youthful faces are more
full and fleshy than was usual with Raffaello; and according to
Algarotti, they are but little elevated above the standard of ordinary
men, and approach to vulgarity. His tints at one period abounded with
shadows produced by lamp black or ivory black, which impairs the value
of some of his pictures; but he gradually acquired a better manner, and,
as we have related, was able to instruct Raffaello. In firmness and
clearness he yields not to the best of the school of Lombardy. He was
the inventor of a new method of casting draperies; having taught the use
of the wooden figure, with moveable joints, that serves admirably for
the study of the folds of drapery. None of his school painted them more
varied and natural, with more breadth, or better adapted to the limbs.
His works are to be seen in several private collections in Florence; but
they are rare beyond the precincts of that city: they are there eagerly
sought after by foreigners, but are very rarely to be sold. One of his
Madonnas was procured within these few years by his Excellency the
Major-Domo of the ducal household, whose collection may be reckoned
another Florentine Gallery in miniature, consisting of about thirty
pictures of the best [Pg 192]masters of different schools. The
Fathers of S. Mark have a considerable number of his paintings in their
private chapel, and among these is a S. Vincenzo, said by Bottari to
resemble a work of Tiziano or Giorgione. His best and rarest
performances are in the possession of the Prince, in whose collection
the last work of Fra Bartolommeo remains, a large picture in
chiaroscuro, representing the patron saints of the city surrounding the
Virgin Mary. The Gonfalonier Soderini intended this piece for the Hall
of the Council of State; but it was left only as a design at the death
of its author, in 1517, like the projected works of Vinci and
Bonarruoti. It would seem as if some fatality attended the decoration of
this building, which ought to have employed the pencil of the greatest
native artists. Among this number Frate must undoubtedly be included;
and Richardson remarks, that had he possessed the happy combinations of
Raffaello, he, perhaps, would not have been second to that master.[168] The last mentioned production, though
imperfect, is looked upon as a model in the art. The method of this
artist was first to draw the figure naked, then to drape it, and to form
a chiaroscuro, sometimes in oils, that marked the distribution of the
light and shadow, which constituted his great study, and the soul of his
pictures. This large picture demonstrates such preparatives; and it has
as high a value in painting, as the antique plaster models have in
sculpture, in which [Pg 193]Winckelmann discovers the stamp of
genius and compass of design better than in sculptured marbles.

Mariotto Albertinelli, the fellow student and friend of Baccio, the
sharer of his labours and his concerns, emulated his first style, and
approaches to his second in some of his works; but they may be compared
to two streams springing from the same source; the one to become a
brook, the other a mighty river. Some pictures in Florence are supposed
to be their joint performances; and the Marquis Acciaiuoli possesses a
picture of the Assumption, in the upper part of which are the Apostles,
by Baccio, and the lower is deemed the work of Mariotto. He is somewhat
dry in several of his pictures, as in the S. Silvestro, in Monte Cavallo
at Rome; where he also painted a S. Domenick, and a S. Catharine of
Siena, near the throne of the Virgin Mary. He should likewise be known
at Florence. He executed two pictures for the church of S. Giuliano,
remarkable for the force of colouring, and the many imitations of the
style of Frate. The best of all and the nearest to his model is the
Visitation, transferred from the Congregazione de’ Preti to the Ducal
gallery, and even to its most honoured place, the Tribune. Albertinelli
obtained great credit by his two pupils, Franciabigio and Innocenzio da
Imola, of whom I shall speak in the proper place as ornaments of their
school. I find Visino praised beyond them both: he painted but little in
Florence, and that in private; but he was much employed in Hungary.
[Pg
194]

Benedetto Cianfanini, Gabriele Rustici, and Cecchin del Frate, who
inherited his master’s name, were the scholars of Fra Bartolommeo in his
best time; but they are no longer known by any undoubted works. Fra
Paolo da Pistoia, his colleague, who was honoured in his own country
with a medal, which I have seen, with those of many eminent men of
Pistoia, in the possession of the Sign. Dottor Visoni, obtained the
richest inheritance in all the studies of Baccio; and from his designs
this artist painted many pictures at Pistoia, one of which may be seen
in the parochial church of S. Paul, over the great altar. Those designs
were afterwards carried to Florence, and in the time of Vasari there was
a collection of them at the Dominican convent of S. Catharine, in the
hands of Sister Plautella Nelli. The noble family of this lady possesses
a Crucifixion painted by her, in which there is a multitude of small
figures most highly finished. She seems on the whole a good imitation of
Frate; but she also followed other styles, as may be seen in her
convent. A Descent from the Cross is there shewn, said to be the design
of Andrea del Sarto, but the execution is by her; and likewise an
Epiphany, entirely her own, in which the landscape would do honour to
the modern, but the figures savour of the old school.

Andrea Vannucchi, called Andrea del Sarto, from the occupation of his
father, is commended by Vasari as the first artist of this school, “for
being the most faultless painter of the Florentines,[Pg 195] for
perfectly understanding the principles of chiaroscuro, for representing
the indistinctness of objects in shadow, and for painting with a
sweetness truly natural: he, moreover, taught how to give a perfect
union to frescos, and in a great measure obviated the necessity of
retouching them when dry, a circumstance which gives all his works the
appearance of having been finished in one day.” He is censured by
Baldinucci, as barren in invention; and undoubtedly he wanted that
elevation of conception, which constitutes the epic in painting as well
as in poetry. Deficient in this talent, Andrea is said to have been
modest, elegant, and endued with sensibility; and it appears that he
impressed this character on nature wherever he employed his pencil. The
portico of the Nunziata, transformed by him into a gallery of
inestimable value, is the fittest place to judge of this. Those chaste
outlines that procured him the surname of Andrea the Faultless,
those conceptions of graceful countenances, whose smiles remind us of
the simplicity and grace of Correggio,[169]
that appropriate architecture, those draperies, adapted to every
condition, and cast with ease, those popular expressions of curiosity,
of astonishment, of confidence, of compassion, and of joy, that never
transgress the bounds of decorum, which are understood at first sight,
and gently affect the mind without [Pg 196]agitating it, are
charms that are more readily felt than expressed. He who feels what
Tubules is in poetry, may conceive what Andrea is in painting.

This artist demonstrates the ascendancy of native genius over
precept. When a boy he was put under the tuition of Giovanni Barile, a
good carver in wood, employed on the ceilings and doors of the Vatican,
after the designs of Raffaello, but a painter of no celebrity. While
still a youth, he was consigned to Pier di Cosimo, a practical
colourist, but by no means skilled in drawing or in composition: hence
the taste of Andrea in these arts was formed on the cartoons of Vinci
and Bonarruoti; and, as many circumstances indicate, on the frescos of
Masaccio and of Ghirlandaio, in which the subjects were more suited to
his mild disposition. He went to Rome, but I know not in what year; that
he was there, appears not to me to admit of dispute, as in the case of
Correggio. I do not argue this from his style approaching near to that
of Raffaello, as it appeared also to Lomazzo and other writers, though
with less of ideal beauty. Raffaello and Andrea had studied the same
originals at Florence; and nature might have given them corresponding
ideas for the selection of the beautiful. I ground my opinion entirely
on Vasari. He informs us, that Andrea was at Rome, that seeing the works
of the scholars of Raffaello, timidity induced him to despair of
equalling them, and to return speedily to Florence. If we credit so many
other stories of the pusillanimity of Andrea, [Pg 197]why should we reject
this? or what faith shall we give to Vasari, if he was erroneous in a
circumstance relating to one who was his master, and which was written
in Florence soon after the death of Andrea, while his scholars, his
friends, and even his wife, were still living, an assertion, too,
uncontradicted in the second edition, in which Vasari retracted so much
of what he had affirmed in the first?

His improvement and his progress from one perfection in art to
another was thus not sudden, as has happened to some other artists; but
was gradually acquired during many years residence at Florence. There,
“by reflecting on what he had seen, he attained such eminence that his
works have been esteemed, and admired, and even more imitated after his
death, than in his lifetime:” so says the historian. This implies that
he improved at Rome; chiefly, however, by his own genius, which led him,
as it were, by the hand, from one step to another, as may be observed in
the Compagnia dello Scalzo, and in the convent of the Servi, where some
of his pictures, executed at different periods, are to be seen. At the
Scalzo, he painted some stories from the life of S. John in chiaroscuro,
the cartoons for which are in the Rinuccini palace: in this work we may
notice some palpable imitations, and even some figures borrowed from
Albert Durer. We may trace his early style in the Baptism of Christ; his
subsequent progress, in some other pictures, as in the Visitation,
painted some years after; and [Pg 198]his greatest excellence and broadest
manner in others, especially in the Birth of the Baptist. In like
manner, the pictures from the life of S. Filippo Benizi, in the lesser
cloister of the Servi, are very beautiful productions, though they are
among the first efforts of Andrea’s genius. The Epiphany of our Saviour,
and the Birth of the Virgin in the same place, are more finished works;
but his finest piece is that Holy Family in Repose, which is usually
called Madonna del Sacco, from the sack of grain on which S.
Joseph leans, than which few pictures are more celebrated in the history
of the art. It has frequently been engraved; but after two centuries and
a half, it has at length employed an engraver worthy of it in Morghen,
who has recently executed it, and also a similar composition after
Raffaello. Both prints are in the best collections; and to those who
have not seen either Rome or Florence, Andrea appears rather a rival
than an inferior to the prince of painters. On examining this picture
narrowly, it affords endless scope for observation: it is finished as if
intended for a cabinet; every hair is distinguished, every middle tint
is lowered with consummate art, every outline marked with admirable
variety and grace: and amid all this diligence a facility is
conspicuous, that makes the whole appear natural and unconstrained.

In the ducal palace at Poggio a Caiano, there is a fresco picture of
Cæsar, seated in a hall, ornamented with statues, on a lofty seat, to
whom a [Pg
199]great variety of exotic birds and wild animals are
presented as the tribute of his victories; a work of itself sufficient
to mark Andrea as a painter eminent in perspective, in a knowledge of
the antique, and in every excellence of painting. The order for
ornamenting that palace came from Leo X.; and Andrea, who had there to
contend with Franciabigio and Pontormo, exerted all his energy to please
that encourager of art, and to surpass his competitors. The other
artists seem to have been discouraged, and did not proceed: some years
after Alessandro Allori put a finishing hand to the hall. The royal
palace possesses a treasure in the oil pictures of Andrea. Independent
of the S. Francis, the Assumption, and other pictures, collected by the
family of the Medici, the Grand Duke Leopold purchased a very fine
Pietà from the nuns of Lugo, and placed it in the Tribune as an
honour to the school. The introduction of S. Peter and S. Paul in that
piece, contrary to historical facts, is not the error of the painter who
represented them so admirably, but of those who commissioned the
picture. Critics have remarked a slight defect in the dead Christ, which
they think sustains itself more, and has a greater fulness of the veins,
than is suitable to a dead body: but this is immaterial in a picture the
other parts of which are designed, coloured, and composed, so as to
excite astonishment. A Last Supper, if it were not confined to the
cloisters of the monastery of S. Salvi, would, perhaps, be equally
admired. The soldiers [Pg 200]who besieged Florence in 1529, and
destroyed the suburbs of the city, undoubtedly admired it: after
demolishing the belfry, the church, and part of the monastery, they were
astonished on beholding this Last Supper, and had not resolution to
destroy it; imitating that Demetrius who, at the siege of Rhodes, is
said to have respected nothing but a picture by Protegenes.[170]

Andrea painted a great deal; and on this account is well known beyond
the limits of his own country. Perhaps his best performance in the hands
of strangers is a picture translated to a palace in Genoa from the
church of the Domenicans of Sarzana, who possess several others, very
beautiful. It is composed in the manner of F. Bartolommeo; and besides
the Saints distributed around the Virgin, or on the steps, four of whom
are standing and two on their knees, there are two large figures in the
foreground that seem to start from the lower part of the picture, and
are seen as high as the knee. I am aware that this disposition of the
figures displeases the critics; yet it gives variety in the position of
so many figures, and introduces a great distance between the nearest and
most remote, by which the space seems augmented, and every figure
produces effect. The best collections are not deficient in his Holy
Families. The Marquis Rinuccini, at Florence, possesses two; and some of
the illustrious Romans have even a greater number; but all different,
except [Pg
201]that the features of the Virgin, which Andrea usually
copied from his wife, have always some resemblance. Many others may be
seen in Rome and in Florence, and not a few in Lombardy, besides those
noticed in the catalogues of foreign nations.

So much genius merited success: and yet if one was to write a book on
the misfortunes of painters, as has already been done on those of
authors, nothing would awaken more compassion than the lot of Andrea.
The poverty of Correggio is exaggerated, or perhaps untrue; the misery
of Domenichino had a termination; the Caracci were ill rewarded, but
lived in easy circumstances. Andrea, from his marriage with Lucrezia del
Fede until his death, was almost always pressed with griefs. In his
first edition, Vasari says, that he was despised by his friends, and
abandoned by his employers, from the time of his marriage with this
woman; that, the slave of her will, he left his father and mother to
starve; that through her arrogance and violence none of the scholars of
Andrea could continue long with him; and this must have happened to
Vasari himself. In the second edition he omitted this censure, either
because he repented of it, or was appeased; but did not, however,
conceal that she was a perpetual source of misfortune to her husband. He
there repeated that Andrea was invited to the French court by Francis I.
where, caressed and rewarded, he might have excited the envy of every
artist; but influenced by the womanish complaints[Pg 202] of
Lucrezia, he returned to Florence; and remained in his own country, in
violation of his faith solemnly pledged to that monarch. He afterwards
repented and was anxious to regain his former situation; but his efforts
were ineffectual. He dragged out a miserable existence, amid jealousy
and domestic wretchedness, until, infected with the plague, and
abandoned by his wife and every other individual, he died, in 1530, in
the forty-second year of his age, and had a very mean funeral.

The two who approximated most nearly to the style of Andrea were
Marco Antonio Francia Bigi, as he is named by Baldinucci, called also
Franciabigio, or Francia, as Vasari denominates him, and Pontormo.
Francia was the scholar of Albertinelli for a few months, and then
appears to have formed himself on the best models of the school; and few
are commended so highly by Vasari for a knowledge of anatomy, for
perspective, for the daily habit of drawing the naked figure, and the
exquisite finish of all his performances. One of his Annunciations was
formerly in S. Pier Maggiore; the figures were small and highly
finished, accompanied by good architecture, but not without a certain
degree of dryness. Andrea, his friend, and the associate of his studies,
helped him to a more elevated style. From a companion Francia became his
enthusiastic follower; but, inferior in talents, he never attained the
art of representing such sweetness of disposition, affection so true,
and grace so natural. A semicircular piece of his, representing [Pg 203]the
Marriage of the Virgin, may be seen near the works of Andrea, in the
cloister of the Nunziata, where we recognize him as a painter who sought
to attain by labour what the other accomplished by genius. This work was
never completed. Some of the monks having uncovered it before it was
finished, the artist was so offended that he struck the work some blows
with a hammer, in order to deface it; and though they prevented his
accomplishing this, he never after could be prevailed on to complete it,
and no other dared to undertake the task. He was a competitor with
Andrea also in the Scalzo, where he executed two histories that are not
much eclipsed by the pictures in their vicinity. He imitated his friend
likewise at Poggio a Caiano, in a picture of the return of Cicero from
exile: a work of merit, though never finished. It is the great glory of
his pencil, that it was so often employed in contending with Andrea, in
whom it awakened emulation and industry, from the fear of being
surpassed.

Jacopo Carrucci, called Pontormo, from the place of his nativity, was
a man of rare genius, whose early productions obtained the admiration of
Raffaello and Michelangiolo. He got a few lessons from Vinci, and was
afterwards under the care of Albertinelli, and Pier di Cosimo, but he
finally became the pupil of Andrea. He excited the jealousy of this
master, was induced by unhandsome treatment to withdraw from his school,
and afterwards became not only the imitator of Andrea, but [Pg 204]his
rival in many undertakings. The Visitation in the cloister of the Servi,
the picture of several saints at S. Michelino, the two pictures of the
History of Joseph, represented in minute figures, in an apartment of the
ducal gallery, shew that he trod without difficulty in the footsteps of
his master, and that congeniality of talent led him into a similar path.
I use the term similar; for he is not a copyist, like those who borrow
heads or whole figures, but invariably retains a peculiar originality. I
saw one of his Holy Families in the possession of the Marquis Cerbone
Pucci, along with others by Baccio, by Rosso, and Andrea: the picture by
Pontormo vied with them all; but yet was sufficiently
characteristic.

He had a certain singularity of disposition, and readily abandoned
one style to try a better; but he was often unsuccessful; as likewise
happened to Nappi, of Milan; to Sacchi, of Rome; and to every other
artist who has made this attempt, at an age too far advanced for a
change of manner. The Carthusian Monastery at Florence has some of his
works, from which connoisseurs have inferred the three styles attributed
to him. The first is correct in design, vigorous in colouring, and
approaches the manner of Andrea. In the second the drawing is good, but
the colouring somewhat languid; and this style became the model for
Bronzino and the artists of the succeeding epoch. The third is a close
imitation of Albert Durer, not only in the composition but in the heads
and draperies;[Pg
205] a manner certainly unworthy of so promising an outset.
It is difficult to find specimens of Pontormo in this style, except some
histories of the Passion, which he servilely copied from the prints of
Albert Durer, for the cloister of that monastery, where he trifled away
several years. We might perhaps notice a fourth manner, if the Deluge
and Last Judgment, on which he spent eleven years at S. Lorenzo, had
still existed: but this his last performance, with the tacit consent of
every artist, was whitewashed. Here he attempted to imitate
Michelangiolo, and like him to afford a model of the anatomical style,
which at this time began to be extolled at Florence above every other:
but he taught us a different lesson, and only succeeded in demonstrating
that an old man ought not to become the votary of fashion.

Andrea pursued the custom of Raffaello and other artists of that age,
in conducting his works with the assistance of painters experienced in
his style, whether they were friends or scholars; a remark not useless
to those who may trace in his pictures the labours of another pencil. It
is known that he gave Pontormo some pieces to finish, and that he
retained one Jacone, and a Domenico Puligo; two individuals who
possessed a natural turn for painting, ready and willing to try every
species of imitation, and more desirous of recreation than of fame. The
façade of the Buondelmonte Palace, at S. Trinità, by the former, was
highly extolled. It was in chiaroscuro; the drawing, in[Pg 206]
which department he excelled, was very beautiful, and the whole
conducted in the manner of Andrea. He also executed some oil pictures at
Cortona, which are much commended by Vasari. Domenico Puligo was less
skilled in design than in colouring: his tints were sweet, harmonious,
and clear, but he apparently aimed at covering the outline, to relieve
him from the necessity of perfect accuracy. By this mark he is sometimes
recognized in Madonnas and in cabinet pictures, (his usual occupation)
which having been perhaps designed by Andrea, at first sight pass for
the work of that master. Domenico Conti was likewise very intimate with
Andrea, was his scholar and the heir to his drawings; and that great
artist was honoured with a tomb and epitaph designed by Conti, in the
vicinity of his own immortal works in the Nunziata. Excepting this
circumstance, Vasari notices nothing praiseworthy in Conti, and
therefore I shall take no more notice of him. He gives a more favourable
opinion of Pierfrancesco di Jacopo di Sandro, on account of his three
pictures in the church of S. Spirito. He makes honourable mention of two
other artists, who lived long in France, viz. Nannoccio and Andrea
Squazzella, who always retained a similarity to the style of Andrea del
Sarto. It is not our present business to notice those who abandoned it;
for in this work it is my wish to keep sight rather of the different
styles than of the masters.

The fine copies that so often pass for originals,[Pg 207] in
Florence and other places, are chiefly the work of the above mentioned
artists; nor does it seem credible that Andrea copied so closely his own
inventions, and reduced them with his own hand from the great scale to
small dimensions. I have seen one of his Holy Families, in which S.
Elizabeth appears, in ten or twelve collections; and other pictures in
three or four private houses. I found the S. Lorenzo surrounded by other
saints, at the Pitti Palace, in the Albani gallery; the Visitation, in
the Giustiniani palace; the Birth of our Lady, in the convent of the
Servi, in the possession of Sig. Pirri, at Rome: all these are beautiful
little pictures, all on small panels, all of the old school, and all
believed the work of Andrea. It seems to me not improbable that the best
of these were at least painted in his studio, and retouched by him, a
practice adopted by Tiziano, and even by Raffaello.

Rosso, who contended in the cloisters of the Nunziata, with the best
masters, and who appears in his Assumption to have aimed at a work not
so much superior in beauty as in size to the productions of the other
artists, is among the greatest painters of his school. Endowed with a
creative fancy, he disdained to follow any of his countrymen or
strangers; and indeed one recognizes much originality in his style: his
heads are more spirited, his head dresses and ornaments are more
tasteful, his colouring more lively, his distribution of light and shade
broader, and his pencilling more firm and [Pg 208]free, than had been
hitherto seen in Florence. He appears in short to have introduced into
that school a peculiar spirit, that would have been unexceptionable, had
it not been mingled with something of extravagance. Thus, in the
Transfiguration at Città di Castello, instead of the Apostles he
introduced a band of gypsies at the bottom of the picture. His picture
in the Pitti palace, however, is far removed from any such fault. It
exhibits various saints, grouped in so excellent a manner, that the
chiaroscuro of one figure contributes to the relief of another; and it
has such beautiful contrasts of colour and of light, such energy of
drawing and of attitude, that it arrests attention by its originality.
He likewise painted for the State: an unfinished Descent from the Cross
may be seen in the oratory of S. Carlo, in Volterra; and another in the
church of S. Chiara at Città S. Sepolcro; in the cathedral of which
there are many old pictures. Its great merit consists in the principal
group, and that twilight, or almost nocturnal tint, that gives a tone to
the whole piece, sombre, true, and worthy of any Flemish artist. The
works of this painter are very scarce in Italy; for he went to France
into the employment of Francis I. during his best time, and
superintended the ornamental painting and plaster work then going on at
Fontainebleau. Whilst engaged in this work, he unhappily put an end to
his existence by poison; and in the enlargement of the building many of
his works were defaced by Primaticcio, who was a[Pg 209] rival, but not a
follower, as is pretended by Cellini.[171]
Thirteen pictures, dedicated to the fame and actions of Francis I. have
escaped, and are described by Abbé Guget, in his Memoir on the Royal
Academy of France.[172] Among these is the
remarkable one of Ignorance Banished by that monarch; a picture that has
been three different times engraved. He was assisted in those works by
several artists, amongst whom were three Florentine painters, Domenico
del Barbieri, Bartolommeo Miniati, and Luca Penni, the brother of that
Gianfrancesco, called Il Fattore in the school of Raffaello.

Ridolfo di Domenico Ghirlandaio lost his father in his infancy; but
was so well initiated in the art, first by his paternal uncle Davide,
and afterwards by Frate, that when Raffaello d’Urbino came to Florence,
he became his admirer and his friend. On his departure from that city he
left with him a Madonna, intended for Siena, that it might be completed
by him; and having soon after gone to Rome, he invited him to assist in
the decorations of the Vatican. Ridolfo declined this, unfortunately for
his own name, which might thus have[Pg 210] rivalled that of
Giulio Romano. He undoubtedly possessed a facility, elegance, and
vivacity of manner, to enable him to follow closely the style of his
friend. That he was ambitious of imitating him, may be inferred from the
pictures in his early manner, preserved in the church of S. Jacopo di
Ripoli, and S. Girolamo, that bear some resemblance to the manner of
Perugino, like the early productions of Raffaello. His taste is
displayed to more advantage in two pictures, filled with many moderate
sized figures, which were transferred from the Academy of Design to the
Royal Gallery. They represent two stories of S. Zenobi, and perhaps
approach nearer to the two pictures by Pinturicchio, in the cathedral of
Siena, that were painted under the direction, and partly by the
assistance of Raffaello, than to any other model; with this exception,
that they retain more traces of the old school. We may remark, in the
pictures of Ridolfo, some figures strikingly like those of Raffaello;
and in the whole there appears a composition, an expression, and skill
in improving nature to the standard of ideal beauty, apparently
proceeding from principles conformable to the maxims of that great
master. That he did not afterwards perfect them, is to be attributed to
his not having seen the best productions of his friend, and to his study
of the art having been retarded by his commercial pursuits.

On modernizing his manner, and by this means obtaining reputation, he
aimed at nothing further; [Pg 211]and continued to study painting rather
as an amusement, than as a profession. He assembled round him artists of
every description, and disdained not to impart advice to painters of
ensigns, of furniture, or of scenes; still less to those who executed
pictures for cabinets or churches. Many such who flourished about the
middle of the sixteenth century, are mentioned in history either as his
pupils, or his companions. The following is a brief catalogue of them.
Michele di Ridolfo assumed his name; because, on passing from the
schools of Credi and Sogliani into that of Ridolfo, he was treated not
so much as a companion as a son, till the death of Ghirlandaio. They
painted many pictures conjointly, which always pass under their name;
and of this number is the S. Anne of Città di Castello; an exquisite
picture, both for elegance of design, and a peculiar fulness of
colouring. Michele was particularly eminent in this department, which he
diligently studied in his own works, and employed in his fresco pictures
over several of the gates of the city; and he was selected by Vasari as
the companion of his labours. Mariano da Pescia must have been much
esteemed by Ridolfo; for when this master painted the frescos in the
State Chapel of the Old Palace, a work which gained him high honour, he
wished the smaller pieces to be painted by Mariano. There is a Holy
Family in that place, in a firm but agreeable style: it is the only
remaining production of this artist, who died young. He was of the
Gratiadei [Pg
212]family; a piece of information for which, with various
others, I am indebted to the politeness of his fellow citizen Sig.
Innocenzio Ansaldi, an able writer, both in poetry and prose, in
whatever relates to the art. Carlo Portelli da Loro in Valdarno,
proceeded from the same school. He painted much in the City, and
sometimes with little harmony: yet the testimony of Vasari, and the
picture of S. Romulus, which remains at the Santa, demonstrate his
ability as an artist. Of Antonio del Ceraiuolo, little remains to
commemorate the painter but the name. Mirabello da Salincorno, who was
employed on the funeral obsequies of Bonarruoti, devoted himself to
cabinet pictures; and an Annunciation, with his name, and the date of
1565, is said to be in the hands of the Baldovinetti family. It would be
tiresome to follow Vasari, who, in several passages of his history,
mentions artists now sunk into oblivion, that might have found a place
here. I close the list with two illustrious names, Perino del Vaga,
already noticed, but afterwards to be more frequently mentioned; and
Toto del Nunziata, reckoned by the English the best of the Italian
artists, who, in that century visited their island; though almost
unknown among us.[173] [Pg 213]He was the son of an
obscure artist, but obtained celebrity; and Perino himself had not a
more formidable rival in the school of Ridolfo.

This glorious epoch was not deficient in good landscape painters;
although the art of landscape painting without figures was not yet in
great repute. Vasari highly praises in this line one Antonio di Donnino
Mazzieri, a scholar of Franciabigio, a bold designer, and a man of great
invention in representing horses, and in landscape.

The grotesque came into fashion through the efforts of Morto da
Feltro, and Giovanni da Udine. Both artists were settled at Florence,
and there painted; especially the second, who decorated the palace of
the Medicean family, and the chapel in the church of S. Lorenzo. Andrea,
called di Cosimo, because he was the scholar of Rosselli, learnt this
art from Morto,[174] and he obtained the
surname [Pg
214]of Feltrini, or perhaps Feltrino, from his best known
master. He exercised the invention not only on walls but on furniture,
on banners and festive decorations: abounding in fancy, he was the
leader of a taste originating with him, and much imitated in Florence.
His ornaments were more copious and rich than those of the ancients;
were united in a different manner, and his figures were admirably
adapted to them. Mariotto and Raffaello Mettidoro were his associates;
but no artist was more employed than he in designing foliage for
brocades on cloth, or in ornamental painting. Pier di Cosimo, and
Bachiacca, or Bachicca, were very eminent in the grotesque; of whom,
with others who began the study about the end of the first Epoch, I have
already treated, among the old masters: but none of them modernized more
than the latter, who was usually employed on small subjects,
particularly on the furniture of private houses, and on small pictures,
many of which were sent to England. About the time of his decease he was
employed by the Duke Cosmo. He drew most elegant small historical
designs for tapestry and beds, which were executed by his brother
Antonio, an embroiderer whom Varchi commends; [Pg 215]and by Gio. Rossi, and
Niccolo Fiamminghi, who introduced the art of tapestry weaving into
Florence.[175] His best work was a
cabinet, which he ornamented divinely, says Vasari, with flowers and
birds in oil colours.

Perspective was not cultivated in Italy during the 15th century,
except so far as subservient to historical painting, and in this
department the Venetian and Lombard masters were no less eminent than
those of Florence or of Rome. After this period, artists began to
represent arches, colonnades, porticos, and every other kind of
architecture, in pictures appropriated to such subjects, to the great
ornament of the theatres, and of religious and convivial festivities.
One of the first who devoted himself to this study was Bastiano di
Sangallo, the nephew of Giuliano, and of Antonio, and the brother of
another Antonio, all of whom were eminent in architecture. He got the
surname of Aristotile, from his disquisitions on anatomy, or on
perspective, accompanied by a certain philosophic authority and
ingenuity. He acquired the principles of his art from Pietro Perugino,
but he soon abandoned his school, to adopt a more modern style. He
exercised himself for several years in painting figures; he copied some
subjects after his friends Michelangiolo and Raffaello; and aided by the
advice [Pg
216]of Andrea and Ridolfo, he produced not a few Madonnas and
other pictures of his own composition: but not possessing invention in
an eminent degree he latterly dedicated his attention wholly to
perspective, in which he was initiated by Bramante; and exercised it
during this epoch, when Florence abounded with grand funeral obsequies,
and public festivities. Of these, the most memorable were those
instituted on the election of Leo X. in 1513, and on his visit to
Florence in 1515. He had in his train Michelangiolo, Raffaello, and
other professors of the art, to deliberate concerning the façade of the
church of S. Lorenzo, and other works which he meditated. His court
added pomp to every spectacle; and Florence became, as it were, a new
city. Arches were erected in the streets by Granacci and Rosso; temples
or new façades were designed by Antonio da San Gallo, and Jacopo
Sansovino; chiaroscuros were prepared by Andrea del Sarto; grotesques by
Feltrino; basso-relievos, statues, and colossal figures, by Sansovino
above mentioned, by Rustici, and Bandinelli; Ghirlandaio, Pontormo,
Franciabigio, and Ubertini, adorned with exquisite taste the residence
of the pontiff. I say nothing of the meaner artists, although in another
age even these would not have been classed with the vulgar herd, but
have obtained distinction: I shall content myself with observing that
this emulation of genius, this display of the fine arts, in short this
auspicious period, sufficed to confer on Florence the lasting
appellation of another [Pg 217]Athens; on Leo the name of another
Pericles or Augustus.

Spectacles of this sort became afterwards more common to the
citizens; for the Medici, on commencing their domination over a people
whom they feared, affected popularity, like the Roman Cæsars, by
promoting public hilarity. Hence, not only on extraordinary occasions,
such as the elevation of Clement VII. to the papal chair, of Alexander,
and of Cosmo to the chief magistracy of their country, on the marriage
of the latter, on that of Giuliano and of Lorenzo de’ Medici, and on the
arrival of Charles V.; not only on such occasions, but frequently at
other times, they instituted tournaments, masquerades, and
representations, of which the decorations were magnificent, such as
cars, robes, and scenery. In this improved state of every thing
conducive to exquisite embellishment, industry became excited, and the
number of painters and ornamental artists increased. Aristotile, to
return to him, was always much employed; his perspectives were in great
request in public places; his scenes in the theatre: the populace,
unaccustomed to those ocular deceptions, were astonished; and it seemed
to them as if they could ascend the steps, enter the edifices, and
approach the balconies and windows in the pictures. The long life of
Aristotile, coeval with the best epoch of painting, permitted him to
serve the ruling family and his country, until his old age, when
Salviati and Bronzino began to be preferred to him. He died in 1551.

While the city of Florence acquired so much [Pg 218]glory by the genius of
her artists, the other parts of the state afforded materials for future
history, chiefly through the assistance of the Roman school. This
happened more especially after 1527, when the sack of Rome dispersed the
school of Raffaello and its young branches. Giulio Romano trained
Benedetto Pagni at Pescia, who ought to be noticed among the assistants
of his master at Mantua. If we credit some late writers, his native
place possesses many of his works: but I acquiesce in the opinion of
Sig. Ansaldi, in refusing to admit any of them as genuine, except the
façade of the habitation of the Pagni family, now injured by time, and
the picture of the Marriage of Cana in the Collegiate church, which is
not his best production. Pistoia is indebted to Gio. Francesco Penni, or
perhaps to Fattore, for a respectable scholar: this was Lionardo, an
artist much employed in Naples and in Rome, where he was named Il
Pistoia. I find him surnamed Malatesta by some, Guelfo by others; but I
suspect that his true family name is to be collected from an inscription
on an Annunciation in the little chapel of the canons of Lucca, which
runs thus, Leonardus Gratia Pistoriensis. I am indebted to Sig.
T. F. Bernardi above mentioned for this fact: and the picture is worthy
of a descendant of Raffaello. I do not know that there is a single trace
of Lionardo remaining in his native place: at the village of Guidi, in
the diocese of Pistoia, one of his pictures is to be seen in the church
of S. Peter, where the titular, and three other saints, stand around
the[Pg
219] throne of the Virgin.[176]
Sebastiano Vini came from Verona, in I know not what year of the 16th
century, and was enrolled among the citizens of Pistoia. His reputation
and his pictures did honour to the country that adopted him. He left
many works both in oil and fresco; but his most extraordinary production
was in the suppressed church of S. Desiderio. The façade over the great
altar was storied with the crucifixion of the ten thousand martyrs, a
work abounding in figures and invention. I have noticed the younger
Zacchia of Lucca, who belongs to this epoch, in the preceding one, that
I might not separate the father and the son. I am unable to find any
other artists sufficiently worthy of record in this district of
Tuscany.