Arts and Crafts in the Middle Ages
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Bartholomew, the mediaeval scientist, tells narratives of the magical
action of the sapphire. "The sapphire is a precious stone," he
says, "and is blue in colour, most like to heaven in fair weather
and clear, and is best among precious stones, and most apt and able
to fingers of kings. And if thou put an addercop in a box, and
hold a very sapphire of India at the mouth of the box any while,
by virtue thereof the addercop is overcome and dieth, as it were
suddenly. And this same I have seen proved oft in many and divers
places." Possibly the fact that the addercop is so infrequent an
invader of our modern life accounts for the fact that we are left
inert upon reading so surprising a statement; or possibly our
incredulity dominates our awe.
The art of the lapidary, or science of glyptics, is a most interesting
study, and it would be a mistake not to consider it for a few moments
on its technical side. It is very ancient as an art. In Ecclesiasticus
the wise Son of Sirach alludes to craftsmen "that cut and grave
seals, and are diligent to make great variety, and give themselves
to counterfeit imagery, and watch to finish a work."
Theophilus on glyptics is too delightfully naive for us to resist
quoting his remarks. "Crystal," he announces, "which is water hardened
into ice, and the ice of great age hardened into stone, is trimmed
and polished in this manner." He then directs the use of sandstone
and emery, chiefly used by rubbing, as one might infer, to polish the
stones, probably _en cabochon_ as was the method in his time; this
style of finish on a gem was called "tallow cutting." But when one
wishes to sculp crystal, Theophilus informs one: "Take a goat of two
or three years... make an opening between his breast and stomach, in
the position of the heart, and lay in the crystal, so that it may lie
in its blood until it grow warm... cut what you please in it as long
as the heat lasts." Just how many goats were required to the finishing
of a sculptured crystal would be determined by the elaboration of
the design! Unfortunately Animal Rescue Leagues had not invaded
the monasteries of the eleventh century.
In sculpturing glass, the ingenuous Theophilus is quite at his best.
"Artists!" he exclaims, "who wish to engrave glass in a beautiful
manner, I now can teach you, as I have myself made trial. I have
sought the gross worms which the plough turns up in the ground,
and the art necessary in these things also bid me procure vinegar,
and the warm blood of a lusty goat, which I was careful to place
under the roof for a short time, bound with a strong ivy plant.
After this I infused the worms and vinegar with the warm blood and
I anointed the whole clearly shining vessel; which being done, I
essayed to sculp the glass with the hard stone called the Pyrites."
What a pity good Theophilus had not begun with the pyrites, when
he would probably have made the further discovery that his worms
and goats could have been spared.
In the polishing of precious stones, he is quite sane in his directions.
"Procure a marble slab, very smooth," he enjoins, "and act as useful
art points out to you." In other words, rub it until it is smooth!
Bartholomew Anglicus is as entertaining as Theophilus regarding
crystal. "Men trowe that it is of snow or ice made hard in many
years," he observes complacently. "This stone set in the sun taketh
fire, insomuch if dry tow be put thereto, it setteth the tow on
fire," and again, quoting Gregory on Ezekiel I., he adds, "water
is of itself fleeting, but by strength of cold it is turned and
made stedfast crystal."
Of small specimens of sculptured crystal some little dark purple
beads carved into the semblance of human faces may be seen on the
Tara brooch; while also on the same brooch occur little purple
daisies.
The Cup of the Ptolemies, a celebrated onyx cup in Paris, is over
fifteen inches in circumference, and is a fine specimen of early
lapidary's work. It was presented in the ninth century by Charles
the Bald to St. Denis, and was always used to contain the consecrated
wine when Queens of France were crowned. Henry II. once pawned
it to a Jew when he was hard up, and in 1804 it was stolen and
the old gold and jewelled setting removed. It was found again in
Holland, and was remounted within a century.
In the Treasury of St. Mark's in Venice are many valuable examples
of carved stones, made into cups, flagons, and the like. These were
brought from Constantinople in 1204, when the city was captured
by the Venetians. Constantinople was the only place where glyptics
were understood and practised upon large hard stones in the early
Middle Ages. The Greek artists who took refuge in Italy at that time
brought the art with them. There are thirty-two of these Byzantine
chalices in St. Mark's. Usually the mountings are of gold, and precious
stones. There are also two beautiful cruets of agate, elaborately
ornamented, but carved in curious curving forms requiring skill
of a superior order. Two other rock crystal cruets are superbly
carved, probably by Oriental workmen, however, as they are not
Byzantine in their decorations. One of them was originally a vase,
and, indeed, is still, for the long gold neck has no connection
with the inside; the handle is also of gold, both these adjuncts
seem to have been regarded as simply ornament. The other cruet is
carved elaborately with leopards, the first and taller one showing
monsters and foliate forms. Around the neck of the lower of these
rock crystal cruets is an inscription, praying for God's blessing
on the "Imam Aziz Billah," who was reigning in Egypt in 980. This
cruet has a gold stand. The handle is cleverly cut in the same
piece of crystal, but a band of gold is carried down it to give it
extra strength. The forming of this handle in connection with the
rest of the work is a veritable _tour de force_, and we should have
grave doubts whether Theophilus with his goats could have managed
it!
[Illustration: CRYSTAL FLAGONS, ST. MARK'S, VENICE]
Vasari speaks with characteristic enthusiasm of the glyptics of
the Greeks, "whose works in that manner may be called divine."
But, as he continues, "many and very many years passed over during
which the art was lost".... until in the days of Lorenzo di Medici
the fashion for cameos and intaglios revived.
In the Guild of the Masters of Wood and Stone in Florence, the
cameo-cutters found a place, nevertheless it seems fitting to include
them at this point among jewellers, instead of among carvers.
The Italians certainly succeeded in performing feats of lapidary
art at a later period. Vasari mentions two cups ordered by Duke
Cosmo, one cut out of a piece of lapis lazuli, and the other from
an enormous heliotrope, and a crystal galley with gold rigging
was made by the Sanachi brothers. In the Green Vaults in Dresden
may be seen numerous specimens of valuable but hideous products
of this class. In the seventeenth century, the art had run its
course, and gave place to a taste for cameos, which in its turn
was run into the ground.
Cameo-cutting and gem engraving has always been accomplished partly
by means of a drill; the deepest point to be reached in the cutting
would be punctured first, and then the surfaces cut, chipped, and
ground away until the desired level was attained. This is on much
the same principle as that adopted by marble cutters to-day.
Mr. Cyril Davenport's definition of a cameo is quite satisfactory:
"A small sculpture executed in low relief upon some substance precious
either for its beauty, rarity, or hardness." Cameos are usually
cut in onyx, the different layers and stratifications of colour
being cut away at different depths, so that the sculpture appears
to be rendered in one colour on another, and sometimes three or
four layers are recognized, so that a shaded effect is obtained.
Certain pearly shells are sometimes used for cameo cutting; these
were popular in Italy in the fifteenth century. In Greece and Rome
the art of cameo cutting was brought to astonishing perfection, the
sardonyx being frequently used, and often cut in five different
coloured layers. An enormous antique cameo, measuring over nine
inches across, may be seen in Vienna; it represents the Apotheosis
of Augustus, and the scene is cut in two rows of spirited figures.
It dates from the first century A. D. It is in dark brown and white.
Among the treasures of the art-loving Henry III. was a "great cameo,"
in a golden case; it was worth two hundred pounds. This cameo was
supposed to compete with a celebrated work at Ste. Chapelle in Paris,
which had been brought by Emperor Baldwin II. from Constantinople.
[Illustration: SARDONYX CUP, 11TH CENTURY, VENICE]
In Paris was a flourishing guild, the "Lapidaries, Jewel Cutters,
and Engravers of Cameos and Hard Stones," in the thirteenth century;
glass cutters were included in this body for a time, but after 1584
the revised laws did not permit of any imitative work, so glass
cutters were no longer allowed to join the society. The French work
was rather coarse compared with the classic examples.
The celebrated Portland Vase is a glass cameo, of enormous proportions,
and a work of the first century, in blue and white. There is a
quaint legend connected with the famous stone cameo known as the
Vase of St. Martin, which is as follows: when St. Martin visited
the Martyr's Field at Agaune, he prayed for some time, and then
stuck his knife into the ground, and was excusably astonished at
seeing blood flow forth. Recognizing at once that he was in the
presence of the miraculous (which was almost second nature to mediaeval
saints), he began sedulously to collect the precious fluid in a
couple of receptacles with which he had had the foresight to provide
himself. The two vases, however, were soon filled, and yet the
mystical ruby spring continued. At his wit's ends, he prayed again
for guidance, and presently an angel descended, with a vase of
fine cameo workmanship, in which the remainder of the sacred fluid
was preserved. This vase is an onyx, beautifully cut, with fine
figures, and is over eight inches high, mounted at foot and collar
with Byzantine gold and jewelled work. The subject appears to be
an episode during the Siege of Troy,--a whimsical selection of
design for an angel.
Some apparently mediaeval cameos are in reality antiques recut with
Christian characters. A Hercules could easily be turned into a
David, while Perseus and Medusa could be transformed quickly into
a David and Goliath. There are two examples of cameos of the Virgin
which had commenced their careers, one as a Leda, and the other as
Venus! While a St. John had originally figured as Jupiter with his
eagle!
In the Renaissance there was great revival of all branches of gem
cutting, and cameos began to improve, and to resemble once more
their classical ancestors. Indeed, their resemblance was rather
academic, and there was little originality in design. Like most of
the Renaissance arts, it was a reversion instead of a new creation.
Technically, however, the work was a triumph. The craftsmen were
not satisfied until they had quite outdone the ancients, and they
felt obliged to increase the depth of the cutting, in order to show
how cleverly they could coerce the material; they even under-cut
in some cases. During the Medicean period of Italian art, cameos
were cut in most fantastic forms; sometimes a negro head would
be introduced simply to exhibit a dark stratum in the onyx, and
was quite without beauty. One of the Florentine lapidaries was
known as Giovanni of the Carnelians, and another as Domenico of
the Cameos. This latter carved a portrait of Ludovico il Moro on
a red balas ruby, in intaglio. Nicolo Avanzi is reported as having
carved a lapis lazuli "three fingers broad" into the scene of the
Nativity. Matteo dal Nassaro, a son of a shoemaker in Verona, developed
extraordinary talent in gem cutting.
An exotic production is a crucifix cut in a blood-stone by Matteo
del Nassaro, where the artist has so utilized the possibilities of
this stone that he has made the red patches to come in suitable
places to portray drops of blood. Matteo worked also in Paris, in
1531, where he formed a school and craft shop, and where he was
afterwards made Engraver of the Mint.
Vasari tells of an ingenious piece of work by Matteo, where he
has carved a chalcedony into a head of Dejanira, with the skin of
the lion about it. He says, "In the stone there was a vein of red
colour, and here the artist has made the skin turn over... and he
has represented this skin with such exactitude that the spectator
imagines himself to behold it newly torn from the animal! Of another
mark he has availed himself, for the hair, and the white parts
he has taken for the face and breast." Matteo was an independent
spirit: when a baron once tried to beat him down in his price for a
gem, he refused to take a small sum for it, but asked the baron to
accept it as a gift. When this offer was refused, and the nobleman
insisted upon giving a low price, Matteo deliberately took his
hammer and shattered the cameo into pieces at a single blow. His
must have been an unhappy life. Vasari says that he "took a wife in
France and became the father of children, but they were so entirely
dissimilar to himself, that he had but little satisfaction from
them."
Another famous lapidary was Valerio Vicentino, who carved a set
of crystals which were made into a casket for Pope Clement VII.,
while for Paul III. he made a carved crystal cross and chandelier.
Vasari reserves his highest commendation for Casati, called "el
Greco," "by whom every other artist is surpassed in the grace and
perfection as well as in the universality of his productions."...
"Nay, Michelangelo himself, looking at them one day while Giovanni
Vasari was present, remarked that the hour for the death of the
art had arrived, for it was not possible that better work could
be seen!" Michelangelo proved a prophet, in this case surely, for
the decadence followed swiftly.
CHAPTER III
ENAMEL
"Oh, thou discreetest of readers," says Benvenuto Cellini, "marvel
not that I have given so much time to writing about all this," and
we feel like making the same apology for devoting a whole chapter
to enamel; but this branch of the goldsmith's art has so many
subdivisions, that it cries for space.
The word Enamel is derived from various sources. The Greek language
has contributed "maltha," to melt; the German "schmeltz," the old
French "esmail," and the Italian "smalta," all meaning about the
same thing, and suggesting the one quality which is inseparable
from enamel of all nations and of all ages,--its fusibility. For
it is always employed in a fluid state, and always must be.
Enamel is a type of glass product reduced to powder, and then melted
by fervent heat into a liquid condition, which, when it has hardened,
returns to its vitreous state.
Enamel has been used from very early times. The first allusion to
it is by Philostratus, in the year 200 A. D., where he described
the process as applied to the armour of his day. "The barbarians
of the regions of the ocean," he writes, "are skilled in fusing
colours on heated brass, which become as hard as stone, and render
the ornament thus produced durable."
Enamels have special characteristics in different periods: in the late
tenth century, of Byzantium and Germany; in the eleventh century, of
Italy; while most of the later work owes its leading characteristics
to the French, although it continued to be produced in the other
countries.
It helps one to understand the differences and similarities in
enamelled work, to observe the three general forms in which it is
employed; these are, the cloisonne, the champleve, and the painted
enamel. There are many subdivisions of these classifications, but
for our purpose these three will suffice.
In cloisonne, the only manner known to the Greek, Anglo-Saxon, and
Celtic craftsmen, the pattern is made upon a gold ground, by little
upright wire lines, like filigree, the enamel is fused into all the
little compartments thus formed, each bit being one clear colour,
on the principle of a mosaic. The colours were always rather clear
and crude, but are the more sincere and decorative on this account,
the worker recognizing frankly the limitation of the material; and
the gold outline harmonizes the whole, as it does in any form of
art work. A cloisonne enamel is practically a mosaic, in which the
separations consist of narrow bands of metal instead of plaster.
The enamel was applied in its powdered state on the gold, and then
fused all together in the furnace.
[Illustration: GERMAN ENAMEL, 13TH CENTURY]
Champleve enamel has somewhat the same effect as the cloisonne,
but the end is attained by different means. The outline is left in
metal, and the whole background is cut away and sunk, thus making
the hollow chambers for the vitreous paste, in one piece, instead of
by means of wires. Often it is not easy to determine which method
has been employed to produce a given work.
Painted enamels were not employed in the earliest times, but came
to perfection in the Renaissance. A translucent enamel prevailed
especially in Italy: a low relief was made with the graver on gold
or silver; fine raised lines were left here and there, to separate
the colours. Therefore, where the cutting was deepest, the enamel
ran thicker, and consequently darker in colour, giving the effect of
shading, while in reality only one tint had been used. The powdered
and moistened enamel was spread evenly with a spatula over the
whole surface, and allowed to stand in the kiln until it liquefied.
Another form of enamel was used to colour gold work in relief,
with a permanent coating of transparent colour. Sometimes this
colour was applied in several coats, one upon another, and the
features painted with a later touch. Much enamelled jewelry was
made in this way, figures, dragons, and animal forms, being among
the most familiar. But an actual enamel painting--on the principle
of a picture, was rendered in still another way. In preparing the
ground for enamel painting, there are two things which have been
essentially considered in all times and countries. The enamel ground
must be more fusible than the metal on which it is placed, or else
both would melt together. Also the enamel with which the final
decoration is executed must be more easily made fluid than the harder
enamel on which it is laid. In fact, each coat must of necessity
be a trifle more fusible than the preceding one. A very accurate
knowledge is necessary to execute such a work, as will be readily
understood.
[Illustration: ENAMELLED GOLD BOOK COVER, SIENA]
In examining historic examples of enamel, the curious oval set
in gold, known as the Alfred Jewel, is among the first which come
within our province. It was found in Somersetshire, and probably
dates from about the year 878. It consists of an enamelled figure
covered by a thick crystal, set in filigree, around the edge of
which runs the inscription, "AELFRED MEC REHT GAVUR CAN" (Alfred
ordered me to be wrought). King Alfred was a great patron of the
arts. Of such Anglo-Saxon work, an ancient poem in the Exeter Book
testifies:
"For one a wondrous skill
in goldsmith's art is provided
Full oft he decorates and well adorns
A powerful king's nobles."
Celtic enamels are interesting, being usually set in the spaces
among the rambling interlaces of this school of goldsmithing. The
Cross of Cong is among the most famous specimens of this work,
and also the bosses on the Ardagh Chalice.
The monk Theophilus describes the process of enamelling in a graphic
manner. He directs his workmen to "adapt their pieces of gold in all
the settings in which the glass gems are to be placed" (by which we
see that he teaches the cloisonne method). "Cut small bands of
exceedingly thin gold," he continues, "in which you will bend and
fashion whatever work you wish to make in enamel, whether circles,
knots, or small flowers, or birds, or animals, or figures." He then
admonishes one to solder it with greatest care, two or three times,
until all the pieces adhere firmly to the plate. To prepare the
powdered glass, Theophilus advises placing a piece of glass in the
fire, and, when it has become glowing, "throw it into a copper vessel
in which there is water, and it instantly flies into small fragments
which you break with a round pestle until quite fine. The next step
is to put the powder in its destined cloison, and to place the whole
jewel upon a thin piece of iron, over which fits a cover to protect
the enamel from the coals, and put it in the most intensely hot part
of the fire." Theophilus recommends that this little iron cover be
"perforated finely all over so that the holes may be inside flat and
wide, and outside finer and rough, in order to stop the cinders if by
chance they should fall upon it." This process of firing may have
to be repeated several times, until the enamel fills every space
evenly. Then follows the tedious task of burnishing; setting the
jewel in a strong bit of wax, you are told to rub it on a "smooth
hard bone," until it is polished well and evenly.
Benvenuto Cellini recommends a little paper sponge
to be used in smoothing the face of enamels. "Take a clean nice piece
of paper," he writes, "and chew it well between your teeth,--that
is, if you have got any--I could not do it, because I've none left!"
A celebrated piece of goldsmith's work of the tenth century is
the Pala d'Oro at St. Mark's in Venice. This is a gold altar piece
or reredos, about eleven feet long and seven feet high, richly
wrought in the Byzantine style, and set with enamels and precious
stones. The peculiar quality of the surface of the gold still lingers
in the memory; it looks almost liquid, and suggests the appearance
of metal in a fluid state. On its wonderful divisions and arched
compartments are no less than twelve hundred pearls, and twelve
hundred other precious gems. These stones surround the openings
in which are placed the very beautiful enamel figures of saints
and sacred personages. St. Michael occupies a prominent position;
the figure is partly in relief. The largest medallion contains
the figure of Christ in glory, and in other compartments may be
seen even such secular personages as the Empress Irene, and the
Doge who was ruling Venice at the time this altar piece was put
in place--the year 1106. The Pala d'Oro is worked in the champleve
process, the ground having been cut away to receive the melted
enamel. It is undoubtedly a Byzantine work; the Doge Orseolo, in
976, ordered it to be made by the enamellers of Constantinople.
It was not finished for nearly two centuries, arriving in Venice
in 1102, when the portrait of the Doge then reigning was added
to it. The Byzantine range of colours was copious; they had white,
two reds, bright and dark, dark and light blue, green, violet,
yellow, flesh tint, and black. These tints were always fused
separately, one in each cloison: the Greeks in this period never
tried to blend colours, and more than one tint never appears in
a compartment. The enlarging and improving of the Pam d'Oro was
carried on by Greek artists in Venice in 1105. It was twice
altered after that, once in the fourteenth century for Dandolo,
and thus the pure Byzantine type is somewhat invaded by the Gothic
spirit. The restorations in 1345 were presided over by Gianmaria
Boninsegna.
One of the most noted specimens of enamel work is on the Crown of
Charlemagne,[1] which is a magnificent structure of eight plaques
of gold, joined by hinges, and surmounted by a cross in the front,
and an arch crossing the whole like a rib from back to front. The
other cross rib has been lost, but originally the crown was arched
by two ribs at the top. The plates of gold are ornamented, one
with jewels, and filigree, and the next with a large figure in
enamel. These figures are similar to those occurring on the Pala
d'Oro.
[Footnote 1: See Fig. 1.]
[Illustration: DETAIL; SHRINE OF THE THREE KINGS, COLOGNE]
The Shrine of the Three Kings in Cologne is decorated both with
cloisonne and champleve enamels,--an unusual circumstance. In Aix
la Chapelle the shrine of Charlemagne is extremely like it in some
respects, but the only enamels are in champleve. Good examples
of translucent enamels in relief may be seen on several of the
reliquaries at Aix la Chapelle.
Theophilus gives us directions for making a very ornate chalice
with handles, richly embossed and ornamented with mello. Another
paragraph instructs us how to make a golden chalice decorated with
precious stones and pearls. It would be interesting as a modern
problem, to follow minutely his directions, and to build the actual
chalice described in the eleventh century. To apply the gems and
pearls Theophilus directs us to "cut pieces like straps," which
you "bend together to make small settings of them, by which the
stones may be enclosed." These little settings, with their stones,
are to be fixed with flour paste in their places and then warmed
over the coals until they adhere. This sounds a little risky, but
we fancy he must have succeeded, and, indeed, it seems to have been
the usual way of setting stones in the early centuries. Filigree
flowers are then to be added, and the whole soldered into place in
a most primitive manner, banking the coals in the shape of a small
furnace, so that the coals may lie thickly around the circumference,
and when the solder "flows about as if undulating," the artist is
to sprinkle it quickly with water, and take it out of the fire.