Dürer / Artist-Biographies

Dürer’s famous tour to the Netherlands began in the summer of 1520, and continued until late in 1521. His main object appears to have been to secure from Charles V. a confirmation of the pension which the Emperor Maximilian had granted him, since the Rath of Nuremberg had refused to deliver any further sums until he could obtain such a ratification. Possibly he also hoped to obtain the position of court-painter, to which Titian was afterwards appointed. Several biographers say that Dürer made the journey in order to get a respite from his wife’s tirades; but this is unlikely, since he took her and her maid Susanna with him. The Archduchess Margaret, daughter of the late Emperor Maximilian and aunt of Charles V., was at Brussels, acting as Regent of the Netherlands; and Dürer made strong but ineffectual attempts to secure her good graces.

Dürer’s journal of his tour is a combination of cash account, itinerary, memoranda, and notebook, and would fill about fifty of these pages. It is usually barren of reflections, opinions, or prolonged descriptions; and is but a terse and business-like record of facts and expenses, rich only in its revelations of mediæval Flemish hospitality and municipal customs, and certain personal habits of the writer. The greatest impression seems to have been made upon the traveller by the enormous wealth of the Low Countries, and the adjective “costly” continually recurs. The new-found treasures of America were then pouring a stream of gold into the Flemish cities, and manufactures and commerce were in full prosperity. The devastating storm of Alva’s Spanish infantry had not yet swept over the doomed but heroic Netherlands; and her great cities basked in peace, prosperity, and wealth.

“On the Thursday after Whitsuntide, I, Albert Dürer, at my own cost and responsibility, set out with my wife from Nuremberg for the Netherlands.... I went on to Bamberg, where I gave the Bishop a picture of the Virgin, ‘The Life of the Virgin,’ an Apocalypse, and other engravings of the value of a florin. He invited me to dinner, and gave me an exemption from customs, and three letters of recommendation.” He hired a carriage to take him to Frankfort for eight florins of gold, and received a parting stirrup-cup from Meister Benedict, and the painter Hans Wolfgang Katzheimer. He gives the names of the forty-three villages through which he passed along the route by Würzburg and Carlstadt to Frankfort, with his expenditures for food and for gifts to servants; and tells how the Bishop’s letter freed him from paying tolls. At Frankfort he was cheaply entertained by Jacob Heller, for whom he had painted “The Coronation of the Virgin.” From thence he descended by boat to Mayence, where he received many gifts and attentions. In the river-passages hence to Cologne, he was forced to haul in shore and arrange his tolls at Ehrenfels, Bacharach, Caub, St. Goar, and Boppart. At Cologne he was entertained by his cousin Nicholas Dürer, who had learned the goldsmith’s trade in the shop of Albert’s father, and was now settled in business. The master made presents to him and his wife. The Barefooted Monks gave Dürer a feast at their monastery; and Jerome Fugger presented him with wine. The journey was soon resumed; and the master passed through fourteen villages, and at last reached Antwerp, where he was feasted by the factor of the illustrious Fugger family. Jobst Planckfelt was Dürer’s host while he remained in the city, and showed him the Burgomaster’s Palace and other sights of Antwerp, besides introducing him to Quentin Matsys and other eminent Flemish artists.

“On St. Oswald’s Day, the painters invited me to their hall, with my wife and maid; and every thing there was of silver and other costly ornamentation, and extremely costly viands. There were also all their wives there; and when I was conducted to the table all the people stood up on each side, as if I had been a great lord. There were amongst them also many persons of distinction, who all bowed low, and in the most humble manner testified their pleasure at seeing me, and they said they would do all in their power to give me pleasure. And, as I sat at table, there came in the messenger of the Rath of Antwerp, who presented me with four tankards of wine in the name of the Magistrates; and he said that they desired to honor me with this, and that I should have their good-will.... And for a long time we were very merry together until quite late in the night; then they accompanied us home with torches in the most honorable manner, and they begged us to accept their good-will, and said they would do whatever I desired that might be of assistance to me. Then I thanked them, and went to bed.”

He next speaks of making portraits of his friend the Portuguese consul, his host Planckfelt, and the musician Felix Hungersberg; and keeps account of his sales of paintings and engravings, on the same pages which record his junketings with various notable men. He dined with one of the Imhoffs and with Meister Joachim Patenir, the landscape-painter, with whom he had certain professional transactions. He soon became intimately acquainted with the three Genoese brothers, Tomasin, Vincent, and Gerhartus Florianus, with whom he dined many times, and for whom he drew several portraits. He also met the great scholar and half-way reformer, Erasmus, who gave him several pleasing presents.

“Our Lady’s Church at Antwerp is so immensely big, that many masses may be sung in it at one time without interfering with each other; and it has altars and rich foundations, and the best musicians that it is possible to have. The church has many devout services, and stone work, and particularly a beautiful tower. And I have also been to the rich Abbey of St. Michael, which has the costly stone seat in its choir. And at Antwerp they spare no cost about such things, for there is money enough there.”

He made portraits of Nicholas Kratzer, then professor of astronomy at Oxford University; Hans Plaffroth; and Tomasin’s daughter; and gave several score of his engravings to the Portuguese consul and to his compatriot Ruderigo, who had sent a large quantity of sweetmeats to the artist, and a green parrot to his wife.

Something of diplomatic tact is shown in Dürer’s making presents to Meister Gillgen, the Emperor’s door-keeper, and to Meister Conrad, the sculptor of the Archduchess Margaret. He seems to have been preparing to seek an invitation to court.

In September Dürer and Tomasin journeyed to Mechlin, where they invited Meister Conrad and one of his artist-friends to a supper. The next day they passed through Vilvorde, and came to Brussels. Here the master was introduced to a new and splendid society and a city rich in works of art. He speaks of dining with “My Lord of Brussels,” the Imperial Councillor Bannisius, and the ambassadors of Nuremberg; and Bernard van Orley, formerly a pupil of Raphael and now court-painter to the Regent Margaret, invited him to a feast at which he met the Regent’s treasurer, the royal court-master, and the town-treasurer of Brussels. He also visited the Margrave of Anspach and Baireuth, with a letter of introduction from the Bishop of Bamberg; and drew portraits of Meister Conrad, Bernard van Orley, and several others. The Regent Margaret received him “with especial kindness,” and promised to use her influence for his advancement at the imperial court. He presented copies of the Passion to her and her treasurer, and many other engravings to other eminent persons in the city.

“And I have seen King Charles’s house at Brussels, with its fountains, labyrinth, and park. It gave me the greatest pleasure; and a more delightful thing, and more like a Paradise, I have never before seen.... At Brussels there is a very big and costly Town-hall, built of hewn stone, with a splendid transparent tower. I have seen in the Golden Hall the four painted matters which the great Meister Rudier [Roger van der Weyden] has done.... I have also been into the Nassau-house, which is built in such a costly style and so beautifully ornamented. And I saw the two beautiful large rooms and all the costly things in the house everywhere, and also the great bed in which fifty men might lie; and I have also seen the big stone which fell in a thunderstorm in the field close to the Count of Nassau. This house is very high, and there is a fine view from it, and it is much to be admired; and I do not think in all Germany there is any thing like it.... Also I have seen the thing which has been brought to the King from the new Golden Land [Mexico], a sun of gold a fathom broad, and a silver moon just as big. Likewise two rooms full of armor; likewise all kinds of arms, harness, and wonderful missiles, very strange clothing, bed-gear and all kinds of the most wonderful things for man’s use, that are as beautiful to behold as they are wonderful. These things are all so costly, that they have been valued at 100,000 gulden. And I have never in all the days of my life seen any thing that has so much rejoiced my heart as these things. For I have seen among them wonderfully artistic things, and I have wondered at the subtle Ingenia of men in foreign lands.”

While at Brussels Dürer was the guest of Conrad the sculptor, and Ebner the Nuremberg ambassador. He returned at length to Antwerp, where his Portuguese friends sent him several maiolica bowls and some Calcutta feathers, and his host gave also certain Indian and Turkish curiosities. The jovial dinners with Planckfelt and Tomasin were again begun, and were supplemented by feasts with the Von Rogendorffs and Fugger’s agent. The master gave away hundreds of his engravings here, either to his friends or to influential courtiers; and all these details he faithfully records. He seems to have been an indefatigable investigator and collector of curiosities, imported trinkets, and china. With childlike delight he narrates the brilliant spectacles around him.

“I have seen, on the Sunday after the Assumption of Our Blessed Lady, the great procession from Our Lady’s Church at Antwerp, when the whole town was assembled, artisans and people of rank, every one dressed in the most costly manner according to its station. Every class and every guild had its badge by which it might be recognized; large and costly tapers were also borne by some of them. There were also long silver trumpets of the old Frankish fashion. There were also many German pipers and drummers, who piped and drummed their loudest. Also I saw in the street, marching in a line in regular order, with certain distances between, the goldsmiths, painters, stonemasons, embroiderers, sculptors, joiners, carpenters, sailors, fishmongers, ... and all kinds of artisans who are useful in producing the necessaries of life. In the same way there were the shopkeepers and merchants and their clerks. After these came the marksmen with firelocks, bows, and cross-bows, some on horseback and some on foot. After that came the City Guards; and at last a mighty and beautiful throng of different nations and religious orders, superbly costumed, and each distinguished from the other, very piously. I remarked in this procession a troop of widows who lived by their labor. They all had white linen cloths covering their heads, and reaching down to their feet, very seemly to behold. Behind them I saw many brave persons, and the canons of Our Lady’s Church, with all the clergy and bursars, where twenty persons bore Our Lady with the Lord Jesus ornamented in the most costly manner to the glory of the Lord God. In this procession there were many very pleasant things, and it was very richly arranged. There were brought along many wagons, with moving ships, and other things. Then followed the Prophets, all in order; the New Testament, showing the Salutation of the Angel, the three Holy Kings on their camels, and other rare wonders very beautifully arranged.... At the last came a great dragon led by St. Margaret and her maidens, who were very pretty; also St. George, with his squire, a very handsome Courlander. Also a great many boys and girls, dressed in the most costly and ornamental manner, according to the fashion of different countries, rode in this troop, and represented so many saints. This procession from beginning to end was more than two hours passing by our house; and there were so many things that I could never write them all down even in a book, and so I leave it alone.”

Raphael died during this year, and Dürer made strenuous efforts to secure some of his drawings or other remains. He met Tommaso Vincidore of Bologna, a pupil of the great master, and gave him an entire set of his best engravings for an antique gold ring, and another set to be sent to Rome in exchange for some of Raphael’s sketches. He also gave a complete set of his engravings to the Regent Margaret, and made for her two careful drawings on parchment. Vincidore painted his portrait, to be sent to Rome; and it was engraved by Adrian Stock, showing his glorious eyes and long flowing hair, together with a short dense beard overshadowed by a massive moustache, curled back at the points.

Later in the autumn Dürer journeyed to Aix-la-Chapelle, where he attended the splendid ceremonies of the coronation of the Emperor Charles V. At Aix he saw the famous columns brought from Rome by Charlemagne, the arm of Kaiser Henry, the chemise and girdle of the Virgin Mary, and other relics. His wife was back at Antwerp; and so the reckless artist chronicles his outlays for drinking, gaming, and other reprehensible expenses. After being entertained for three weeks at the Nuremberg embassy, Dürer went to Cologne, where he remained a fortnight, distributing his engravings with generous hand, visiting the churches and their pictures, and buying all manner of odd things. Early in November, by the aid of the Nuremberg ambassadors, he obtained from the Emperor his Confirmatia, “with great trouble and labor.” This coveted document, which formed one of the main objects of his journey to the North, confirmed him in the pension which Maximilian had granted him, and made him painter to the Emperor.

From Cologne he returned with all speed down the river to Antwerp, being entertained at Bois-le-Duc, “a pretty town, which has an extraordinarily beautiful church,” by the painter Arnold de Ber and the goldsmiths, “who showed me very much honor.” On arriving at Antwerp, he resumes his accounts of the sales and gifts of his engravings, and the enumeration of his domestic expenses. Soon afterward he heard of a monstrous whale being thrown up on the Zealand coast, and posted off in December to see it, taking a vessel from Bergen-op-Zoom, of whose well-built houses and great markets he speaks. “We sailed before sunset by a village, and saw only the points of the roofs projecting out of the water; and we sailed for the island of Wohlfärtig [Walcheren], and for the little town of Sunge in another adjacent island. There were seven islands; and Ernig, where I passed the night, is the largest. From thence we went to Middleburg, where I saw in the abbey the great picture that Johann de Abus [Mabuse] had done. The drawing is not so good as the painting. After that we came to Fahr, where ships from all lands unload: it is a fine town. But at Armuyden a great danger befell me; for just as we were going to land, and our ropes were thrown out, there came a large ship alongside of us, and I was about to land, but there was such a press that I let every one land before me, so that nobody but I, Georg Kotzler, two old women, and the skipper with one small boy, were left in the ship. And when I and the above-named persons were on board, and could not get on shore, then the heavy cable broke, and a strong wind came on, which drove our ship powerfully before it. Then we all cried loudly for help, but no one ventured to give it; and the wind beat us out again to sea.... Then there was great anxiety and fear; for the wind was very great, and not more than six persons on board. But I spoke to the skipper, and told him to take heart, and put his trust in God, and consider what there was to be done. Then he said he thought, if we could manage to hoist the little sail, he would try whether we could not get on. So with great difficulty, and working all together, we got it half way up, and sailed on again; and when those on the land saw this, and how we were able to help ourselves, they came and gave us assistance, so that we got safely to land. Middleburg is a good town, and has a very beautiful Town-house with a costly tower. And there are also many things there of old art. There is an exceedingly costly and beautiful seat in the abbey, and a costly stone aisle, and a pretty parish church. And in other respects also the town is very rich in subjects for sketches. Zealand is pretty and marvellous to see, on account of the water, which is higher than the land.”

The tide had carried off the stranded whale; and so Dürer returned to Antwerp, staying a few days at Bergen. Soon afterwards he gave Von Rafensburg three books of fine engravings in return for five snail-shells, nine medals, four arrows, two pieces of white coral, two dried fish, and a scale of a large fish. Improvident collector of curiosities! how did the matronly Agnes endure such tradings? Many dinners with the Genoese Tomasin are then recorded, and fresh collations with new friends, in the hearty and hospitable spirit of the easy-living Netherlanders. He repaid the quaint presents of his admirers with many copies of his engravings, and occasionally made some money in the practice of his profession.

“On Shrove Tuesday early the goldsmiths invited me and my wife to dinner. There were many distinguished people assembled, and we had an extremely costly meal, and they did me exceeding much honor; and in the evening the senior magistrate of the town invited me, and gave me a costly meal, and showed me much honor. And there came in many strange masks.” He then records his exchanges of engravings for such singular returns as satin, candied citron, ivory salt-cellars from Calcutta, sea-shells, monk’s electuary, sweetmeats in profusion, porcelains, an ivory pipe, coral, boxing-gloves, a shield, lace, fishes’ fins, sandal-wood, &c. The Portuguese ambassador invited him to a rich Carnival feast, where there were “many very costly masks;” and the learned Petrus Ægidius entertained him and Erasmus of Rotterdam together. He climbed up the cathedral tower, and “saw over the whole town from it, which was very agreeable.” Many of the curiosities which he had acquired were sent as presents to Pirkheimer, the Imhoffs, the Holzschuhers, and other noble friends in Nuremberg. Arion, the ex-Pensionary of Antwerp, gave him a feast, and presented him with Patenir’s painting of “Lot and his Daughters.”

Soon after Easter, Dürer made another pleasant tour in the Netherlands, attended by the painter Jan Plos, passing by “the rich Abbey of Pol,” and “the great long village of Kahlb,” to “the splendid and beautiful town” of Bruges. Plos and the goldsmith Marx each gave him costly feasts, and showed him the Emperor’s palace, the Archery Court, and many paintings by Roger van der Weyden, Hubert and Jan van Eyck, and Hugo van der Goes, together with an alabaster Madonna by Michael Angelo. “We came at last to the Painters’ Chapel, where there are many good things. After that they prepared a banquet for me. And from thence I went with them to their guild, where many honorable folk, goldsmiths, painters, and merchants, were assembled; and they made me sup with them, and did me great honor. And the Rath gave me twelve measures of wine; and the whole assembly, more than sixty persons, accompanied me home with torches.

“And when I arrived at Ghent, the chief of the painters met me, and he brought with him all the principal painters of the town; and they showed me great honor, and received me in very splendid style, and they assured me of their good-will and service; and I supped that evening with them. On Wednesday early they took me to St. John’s Tower, from which I saw over all the great and wonderful town. After that I saw Johann’s picture [Van Eyck’s ‘Adoration of the Spotless Lamb’]. It is a very rich and grandly conceived painting; and particularly Eve, the Virgin Mary, and God the Father, are excellent.... Ghent is a beautiful and wonderful town, and four great waters flow through it. And I have besides seen many other very strange things at Ghent, and the painters with their chief have never left me; and I have eaten morning and night with them, and they have paid for every thing, and have been very friendly with me.”

The master soon returned to Antwerp, in distress. “In the third week after Easter a hot fever attacked me, with great faintness, discomfort, and headache. And when I was in Zealand, some time back, a wonderful illness came upon me, which I had never heard of any one having before; and this illness I have still.” This low fever never quite left him, and was the cause of many doctor’s bills thereafter. Soon afterward he made a portrait of the landscape-painter Joachim Patenir; and “on the Sunday before Cross-week, Meister Joachim invited me to his wedding, and they all showed me much respect; and I saw two very pretty plays there, particularly the first, which was very pious and clerical.”

Dürer seems to have had strong Protestant sympathies, though it is claimed that he died in the faith of Rome. His journal in 1521 contains the following significant sentences about Martin Luther: “He was a man enlightened by the Holy Ghost, and a follower of the true Christian faith.... He has suffered much for Christ’s truth, and because he has rebuked the unchristian Papacy which strives against the freedom of Christ with its heavy burdens of human laws; and for this we are robbed of the price of our blood and sweat, that it may be expended shamefully by idle, lascivious people, whilst thirsty and sick men perish of hunger.... Lord Jesus Christ, call together again the sheep of thy fold, of whom part are still to be found amongst the Indians, Muscovites, Russians, and Greeks, who through the burdens and avarice of the Papacy have been separated from us. Never were any people so horribly burdened with ordinances as us poor people by the Romish See; we who, redeemed by thy blood, ought to be free Christians.

“O God, is Luther dead? Who will henceforth explain to us so clearly the holy Gospel? O all pious Christian men, bewail with me this God-inspired man, and pray to God to send us another enlightened teacher! O Erasmus of Rotterdam, where dost thou remain? Behold how the unjust tyranny of this world’s might and the powers of darkness prevail! Hear, thou knight of Christ; ride forth in the name of the Lord, defend the truth, attain the martyr’s crown; thou art already an old manikin, and I have heard thee say that thou gavest thyself only two years longer in which thou wilt still be fit for work. Employ these well, then, in the cause of the Gospel and the true Christian faith.”

More junketings, gamings, collecting of outlandish things, visits to religious and civic pageants, new sketches and paintings, doctor’s bills and monk’s fees, minutely recorded. “Meister Gerhard, the illuminator, has a daughter of eighteen years, called Susanna; and she has illuminated a plate, a Saviour, for which I gave a florin. It is a great wonder that a woman should do so well!... I have again and again done sketches and many other things in the service of different persons, and for the most part of my work I have received nothing at all.”

After Corpus Christi Day, Dürer sent off several bales of his acquisitions to Nuremberg, by the wagoner Cunz Mez. He and his wife then went to Mechlin; “and the painters and sculptors entertained me at my inn, and showed me great honor; and I went to Popenreuther’s house, the cannon-founder, and found many wonderful things there. I have also seen the Lady Margaret [the Archduchess and Regent], and carried the portrait of the Emperor, which I intended to present to her; but she took such a displeasure therein, I brought it away with me again. And on the Friday she showed me all her beautiful things, and amongst them I saw forty small pictures in oil, pure and good: I have never seen finer miniatures. And then I saw other good things of Johann’s [Van Eyck] and Jacob Walch’s. I begged my Lady to give me Meister Jacob’s little book, but she said she had promised it to her painter.”

Dürer seems to have been treated with scant courtesy by the Archduchess, and soon returned to Antwerp. Here he was entertained by the eminent Lucas van Leyden, for whom he made a portrait, and received one of himself in return. The stately Nuremberger and the diminutive artist of Leyden were much astonished at each other’s personal appearance, but had a warm mutual respect and esteem. Dürer next struck up a warm friendship with certain of the Augustine monks, and dined often at their cloister. In addition to the bric-à-brac which he still continued to collect, he now began to buy precious stones, in which he was badly swindled by a Frenchman, and dolefully wrote, “I am a fool at a bargain.”

He was now about to return home, and naturally found it necessary, after having bought such a museum of oddities and curiosities, to borrow enough money to take him to Nuremberg. His friend Alexander Imhoff lent him 100 gold florins, receiving Dürer’s note in return. In some bitterness of spirit he wrote: “In all my transactions in the Netherlands, with people both of high and low degree, and in all my doings, expenses, sales, and other trafficking, I have always had the disadvantage; and particularly the Lady Margaret, for all I have given her and done for her, has given me nothing in return.”

On the eve of Dürer’s departure, the King of Denmark, Christian II., came to Antwerp, and not only had the master draw his portrait, but also invited him to a dinner. He then went to Brussels, on business for his new royal patron, and was present at the pompous reception and banquet with which the Emperor and the Archduchess Margaret received the Danish King. Soon afterwards the King invited Dürer to the feast which he gave to the Emperor and Archduchess; and then had his portrait painted in oil-colors, paying thirty florins for it. After a sojourn of eight days in Brussels, the master and his wife went south to Cologne, spending four long days on the road; and soon afterwards prolonged their journey to Nuremberg.

The municipality of Antwerp had offered him a house and a liberal pension, to remain in that city; but he declined these, being content with his prospects and his noble friends in Franconia.

CHAPTER VII.

In the mean time the purifying storm of the Reformation was sweeping over Germany, and the people were in times of great doubt and perplexity. Nuremberg was the first of the free cities of the Empire to pronounce herself Protestant, though the change was effected with so much order and moderation that no iconoclastic fury was allowed to dilapidate its churches and convents. Pirkheimer and Spengler were excommunicated by the Pope, though their calm conservatism had curbed the fanatical fury of the puritans, and saved the Catholic art-treasures of the Franconian capital.

It is a significant fact that Dürer, during the last six years of his life, made no more Madonnas, and but one Holy Family. The era of Mariolatry had passed, so far as Nuremberg was concerned. Yet, during the year of his return from the Netherlands, he made two engravings of St. Christopher bearing the Holy Child safely above the floods and through the storms, as if to indicate that Christianity would be carried through all its disasters by an unfailing strength.

During the remaining six years of his life Dürer’s art-works were limited to a few portraits and engravings, and the great pictures of the Four Apostles. Much of his time was devoted to the publication of the fruits of his long experience, in several literary treatises, most of which are now lost. His broken health would not allow of continuous work, as the inroads of insidious disease slowly wasted his strength and ate away his vitality.

The Little Masters were a group of artists who were formed in the studio or under the influence of Dürer, shining as a bright constellation of genius in the twilight of German art. Among these were the Bavarian Altdorfer, who combined in his brilliant paintings and engravings both fantasy and romanticism; the Westphalian Aldegrever, a laborious painter and a prolific engraver; Barthel Beham, who afterwards studied with and counterfeited the works of Marc Antonio in Italy; Hans Sebald Beham, who illustrated lewd fables and prayer books with equal skill and relish, and was finally driven from Nuremberg; Jacob Binck of Cologne, a neat and accurate draughtsman, who removed to Rome, and engraved Raphael’s works under the supervision of Marc Antonio; George Pensz, who also studied under the great Italian engraver, and executed 126 fine prints, besides several paintings. Other assistants and pupils of Dürer, of whom little but their names are now remembered, were Hans Brosamer of Fulda, and Hans Springinklee. Hans von Culmbach was a careful follower, who surpassed his master in love of nature and her warm and harmonious colors. The Tucher altar-piece in St. Sebald’s Church was his master-picture. Contemporary with the Nuremberg painter, Matthew Grunewald was doing excellent work at Aschaffenburg, in northern Franconia. Among the German artists of his time, he was surpassed only by Dürer and Holbein.

The Diet of the Empire was held at Nuremberg in 1522, and the Rath-haus was repainted and decorated for its sessions. Dürer was paid 100 florins for his share in this work, although it is not known what it was. The best of the paintings were executed by his pupil, George Pensz, and it is probable that the master furnished some of the designs.

Although our artist held a pension from the Emperor as his court-painter, his services seem to have never been called into requisition. Charles spent but little time at Nuremberg, and while yet in his youth had no care for seeing himself portrayed on canvas. It was after the master’s death that the Emperor first met Titian, and retained him as court-painter.

In 1522 Dürer published at his own cost the first edition of the Triumphal Car of Kaiser Maximilian, a woodcut whose labored and ponderous allegorical idea was conceived by Pirkheimer, designed in detail by Dürer, and engraved by Rösch on eight blocks, forming a picture 7½ feet long by 1½ feet high. The Emperor is shown seated in a chariot, surrounded by female figures representing the abstract virtues, while the leaders of the twelve horses, and even the wheels and reins, have magniloquent Latin names. Maximilian was greatly interested in this work, but died before its completion. The first edition was accompanied by explanatory German text, and the second by Latin descriptions.

The large woodcut of Ulrich Varnbühler, whom Dürer calls his “single friend,” is one of the master’s best works, and was printed over with three blocks, to produce a chiaroscuro. A little later, he made two copper-plates of the Cardinal Archbishop Albert of Magdeburg and Mayence.

In 1523, while under the influence of the art-schools of the Lower Rhine, the master painted the pictures of Sts. Joachim and Joseph and St. Simeon and Bishop Lazarus, small figures on a gold ground.

Dürer’s Family Relation records that, “My dear mother-in-law took ill on Sunday, Aug. 18, 1521; and on Sept. 29, at nine of the night, she died piously. And in 1523, on the Feast of the Presentation, early in the morning, died my father-in-law, Hans Frey. He had been ill for six years, and had his share of troubles in his time.” They were buried in St. John’s Cemetery, in the same lot where the remains of their illustrious son-in-law were afterwards laid.

It is said that Dürer largely occupied himself with glass-painting, during the earlier part of his career; and he probably designed much for the workers in stained glass then in Upper Germany and the Low Countries. Lacroix says that he produced twenty windows for the Temple Church at Paris; and Holt attributes to him the church-windows at Fairford, near Cirencester.

As an architect Albert executed but few works, and only a slight record remains to our day. He made two plans for the Archduchess Margaret, and another for the house of her physician. Heideloff has proved that the gallery of the Gessert house at Nuremberg was built by Dürer, in a strange combination of geometric and Renaissance forms.

Pirkheimer’s portrait was engraved in 1524, showing a gross and heavy face, obese to the last degree, and verifying in its physiognomy the probability that the playful innuendoes in Dürer’s Venetian letters were well grounded. It is not easy to see how such a spirit, learned in all the sciences of the age, and in close communion with Erasmus, Melanchthon, and Ulrich von Hutten, could have worn such a drooping mask of flesh. In the same year, Dürer published an engraved portrait of Frederick the Wise, Elector of Saxony, the supporter of Luther and the political leader of the Reformation. The head is admirably drawn and full of character, with firmness plainly indicated by strongly compressed lips.

The following letter to the Council of Nuremberg was written in the year 1524:—

This touching letter shows the poverty of Dürer’s savings, and his sad feeling that he had lived as a prophet without honor in his own country. It produced the desired effect, and brought him five per cent on his little capital, though after his death the Council hastened to reduce it to four per cent.

Dürer’s wide study and remarkable versatility, rivalling that of Leonardo da Vinci, found further expression in literary work. Camerarius states that he wrote a hundred and fifty different treatises, showing a marked proficiency in several of the sciences. His first work was entitled “Instruction in the Art of Mensuration,” &c., and was published in 1525 for the use of young painters. It is composed of four books, treating of the practical use of geometrical instruments, and the drawing of volutes, Roman letters, and winding stairs; and is illustrated by numerous woodcuts. The fourth book elucidates the idea of perspective, and contains pictures of an instrument devised by the author, “which will be found particularly useful to persons who are not sure of drawing correctly.” This was not the only invention of Dürer’s; for there still exists a small model of a gun-carriage in wood and iron, made by him, and exhibiting certain improvements which he had designed and advocated. “The Art of Mensuration” was a successful book, and passed through one Latin and three German editions.

The finest of Dürer’s works in portraiture was executed in 1526, and represents the grand old Jerome Holzschuher, one of the chief rulers of the city, with all the strength and keenness of his heroic nature lighting up the canvas. Enormous sums have been offered for this work; but it is still faithfully preserved in Nuremberg, and retains its original rich and vivid coloring. Another fine portrait, “like an antique bust,” now in the Vienna Belvedere, shows Johann Kleeberger, the generous and charitable man who was known abroad as “the good German.” Still another portrait of this year was that of the Burgomaster Jacob Müffel, a well-modelled and carefully executed likeness of one of the master’s best friends. Two very famous engravings of this date portray Erasmus of Rotterdam and Philip Melanchthon. Erasmus is represented as a venerable scholar, sitting at a desk, with a pen in his hand and a soft cap on his head; and the engraving is remarkable for its admirable execution and strong character. Still, the old philosopher was not pleased with it, and sent to Sir Thomas More his portrait by Holbein, which, he said, “is much more like me than the one by the famous Albert Dürer.” When Erasmus first saw the picture he said, “Oh! if I still resemble that Erasmus, I may look out for getting married,” as if it gave him too young an appearance.

In 1526 the wise and noble-hearted Melanchthon came to Nuremberg to establish a Protestant Latin school, and formed a close intimacy with the master, whose tender and dreamy spirit was so like his own. During their constant intercourse, the artist became strengthened and comforted in the mild and pure doctrines of the true reformation, and was quietly yet strongly influenced to abandon even the forms of Catholicism which still remained. Dürer published a fine engraving of this friend of his last years on earth, showing delicately-chiselled features, with large and tender eyes and a lofty forehead.

Melanchthon wrote that in one of his frequent conversations with Dürer, the artist explained the great change which his methods had undergone, saying, “In his youth he was fond of a florid style and great combination of colors, and that in looking at his own work he was always delighted to find this diversity of coloring in any of his pictures; but afterwards in his mature years he began to look more entirely to nature, and tried to see her in her simplest form. Then he found that this simplicity was the true perfection of art; and, not attaining this, he did not care for his works as formerly, but often sighed when he looked at his pictures and thought of his incapacity.”

CHAPTER VIII.

“The Four Apostles,” now in the Munich Pinakothek, were Dürer’s last and noblest works, and fairly justify Pirkheimer’s assurance, that if he had lived longer the master would have done “many more wonderful, strange, and artistic things.” They are full of grand thought and clear insight, free from exaggeration or conventionalism, perfect in execution and harmonious simplicity, and so distinct in individuality that it has been generally believed that the Four Temperaments are here impersonated. On one panel are Sts. John and Peter, in life-size, the former deeply meditating, with the Scriptures in his hand, and the latter bending forward and earnestly reading the Holy Book. The other panel shows the stately St. Paul, robed in white, standing before the ardent and impassioned St. Mark. Kugler calls these panels “the first complete work of art produced by Protestantism;” and the truth and simplicity of the paintings prefigured the return of a pure and incorrupt faith.

Late in 1526, Dürer sent these pictures to the Rath of Nuremberg, with the following letter: “Provident, Honorable, Wise, Dear Lords,—I have been for some time past minded to present your Wisdoms with something of my unworthy painting as a remembrance; but I have been obliged to give this up on account of the defects of my poor work, for I knew that I should not have been well able to maintain the same before your Wisdoms. During this past time, however, I have painted a picture, and bestowed more diligence upon it than upon any other painting; therefore I esteem no one worthier than your Wisdoms to keep it as a remembrance; on which account I present the same to you herewith, begging you with humble diligence to accept my little present graciously and favorably, and to be and remain my favorable and dear Lords, as I have always hitherto found you. This, with the utmost humility, I will sedulously endeavor to merit from your Wisdoms.”

The Rath eagerly accepted this noble gift, and hung the two panels in the Rath-haus, sending also a handsome present of money to Dürer and his wife. A century afterwards Maximilian of Bavaria saw and coveted the pictures, and used bribery and threats alike to secure them. In 1627 he accomplished his purpose; and the Rath, fearful of his wrath and dreading his power, sent the panels to Munich.

The woodcut portrait of Dürer, dated 1527, shows the worn face of a man of fifty-six years, whose life has been stormy and sometimes unhappy. It is much less beautiful than the earlier pictures, for his long flowing hair and beard have both been cut short, perhaps on account of sickness, or in deference to the new puritan ideas. The face is delicate and melancholy, and seems to rest under the shadow of approaching death, which is to be met with a calm and simple faith.

His second book, entitled “Some Instruction in the Fortification of Cities, Castles, and Towns,” appeared in 1527, and was dedicated to Ferdinand I., and adorned with several woodcuts. In this the artist showed the same familiarity with the principles of defensive works as his great contemporaries Leonardo da Vinci and Michael Angelo had done. Much attention is paid to the proper sheltering of heavy artillery from hostile shot; and the plans of the towers and bastions about Nuremberg, which were built after Dürer’s death, were suggested in this work. A large contemporary woodcut by the master shows the siege of a city, with cannon playing from the bastions, and the garrison making a sortie against the enemy.

The celebrated “Four Books of Human Proportion” was Dürer’s greatest literary work, and was completed about this time, having been begun in 1523. Its preparation was suggested by Pirkheimer, to whom it was dedicated, and who published it after the author’s death, with a long Latin elegy on him. Great labor was bestowed on this work, and many of the original sketches and notes are still preserved. The first and second books show the correct proportions of the human body and its members, according to scale, dividing the body into seven parts, each of which has the same measurement as the head, and then considering it in eighths. The proportions of children are also treated of; and the dogma is formulated, that the woman should be one-eighteenth shorter than the man. The third book is devoted to transposing or changing these proportions, and contains examples of distorted and unsymmetrical figures; and the fourth book treats of foreshortening, and shows the human body in motion. In his preface he says: “Let no one think that I am presumptuous enough to imagine that I have written a wonderful book, or seek to raise myself above others. This be far from me! for I know well that but small and mediocre understanding and art can be found in the following work.”

The high appreciation in which this book was held appears from the fact that it passed through several German editions, besides three Latin, two Italian, two French, Portuguese, Dutch, and English editions. Most of the original MS. is now in the British Museum.

Among Dürer’s other works were treatises on Civic Architecture, Music, the Art of Fencing, Landscape-Painting, Colors, Painting, and the Proportions of the Horse.

But the year 1527 was nearly barren of new art-works; for the master’s hand was losing its power, and his busy brain had grown weary. His constitution was slowly yielding before the fatal advances of a wasting disease, possibly the low fever which he had contracted in Zealand, or it may have been an affection of the lungs. In the latter days he made a memorandum: “Regarding the belongings I have amassed by my own handiwork, I have not had a great chance to become rich, and have had plenty of losses; having lent without being repaid, and my work-people have not reckoned with me; also my agent at Rome died, after using up my property. Half of this loss was thirteen years ago, and I have blamed myself for losses contracted at Venice. Still we have good house-furnishing, clothing, costly things as earthenware [maiolica], professional fittings-up, bed-furnishings, chests, and cabinets; and my stock of colors is worth 100 guldens.”

The last design of the master was a drawing on gray paper, showing Christ on the Cross. When this was all completed except the face of the Divine sufferer, the artist was summoned by Death, and ascended to behold in glory the features which he had so often portrayed under the thorns.

A violent attack of his chronic disease prostrated him so far that he was unable to rally; and after a brief illness he passed gently away, on the 6th of April, 1528. It was the anniversary of the day on which Raphael died, eight years before. His friends were startled and grief-stricken at his sudden death, which came so unexpectedly that even Pirkheimer was absent from the city. It was long supposed that he died of the plague, on the evidence of a portrait-drawing of himself, showing him pointing to a discolored plague-spot on his side, and inscribed, “Where my fingers point, there I suffer.” It was said that this sketch was for the information of his doctor, who dared not visit the pestilence-stricken sick-chamber. But this hypothesis is no longer considered tenable.

The remains of the master were buried in the lot of his father-in-law, Hans Frey, at the Cemetery of St. John, beyond the walls; and his monument bore Pirkheimer’s simple epitaph: “Me. Al. Du. Quicquid Alberti Dureri Mortale Fuit, Sub Hoc Conditur Tumulo. Emigravit VIII Idus Aprilis, MDXXVIII. A.D.”

On Easter Sunday, 1828, the third centenary of his death, a great procession of artists and scholars from all parts of Germany moved in solemn state from Nuremberg to the grave of Dürer, where they sang hymns.