Jewellery

Attached directly to the girdle or suspended from it by a hook or chain was a purse or pouch called either a gipcière, aulmonière, or escarcelle, which was made of velvet, silk, or stamped leather. The gipcière (also written gypcyre) is mentioned most frequently in early documents, where it is often described as being enriched with embroidery, and set with pearls and precious stones. Like the aulmonière and escarcelle, it was worn from the thirteenth to the sixteenth century hung from a loop at the right side of the girdle. The heads or clasps of the finest purses were of beautiful workmanship, of silver, bronze, or iron, damascened, or exquisitely chiselled. For ordinary use these heads—known as gipcière beams—as well as the mounts or frames of the purses, were made of brass or latten; and judging from the number that has been found and preserved, in the Guildhall Museum, for instance, their use must have been very general in mediæval times.

RENAISSANCE JEWELLERY

CHAPTER XX

ITALY, FIFTEENTH CENTURY

THE history of Renaissance jewellery in general may be approached by reviewing the condition of Italian jewellery in the fifteenth century. In the foregoing outline of European jewellery to the end of the fifteenth century—which has served as an approximate date for the termination of the mediæval epoch—practically no reference has been made to Italy. One need only examine the general style of Italian painting, architecture, and sculpture of the Quattrocento, to see how far apart the art of Italy stands from that of the rest of Europe.

Italian jewellery certainly merits the great reputation it has always possessed. Nor is this surprising, considering the prominent part played by the goldsmiths in the renaissance of artistic taste—by these craftsmen who, in the highest sense artists, were the first to break the fetters of tradition, and yield to those impulses that sought a wider field for the gratification of their creative instinct. Hence the history of the jeweller's art in Italy at the period of the Quattrocento largely resolves itself into the biographies of those master sculptors and painters, who worked first as goldsmiths and jewellers, and throughout their careers remained ever mindful of their original trade.

Venice, which in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries was the wealthiest city and the principal port in Europe, though rivalled in the former century by Bruges and by Antwerp in the latter, encouraged the use of luxurious jewellery, as did the great cities of the north. But Florence undoubtedly took the lead as an artistic centre, judging alone by the artists she produced. The paintings of the Venetian school (the work of Crivelli, for instance), and those of the schools of Tuscany, etc., reveal the exquisite beauty of ecclesiastical jewellery, and of the ornaments with which men, no less than women, loved to deck their persons. Nearly every painter possessed an insight into the mysteries of the goldsmith's craft, and represented his subject, whatever it might be, with careful attention to its jewelled accessories. The great merchants of opulent and artistic cities, such as Siena, Milan, and others, besides Venice and Florence, delighted in rich jewels; and the masters of the schools of painting which had their centres in these towns have preserved in glowing pigment a faithful record of these delicate works of art, on which the eminent jewellers of the day lavished their skill and ingenuity.

The great superiority and beauty of the personal ornaments revealed to us in this manner must first of all be ascribed to that awakening to the full joy of life that was so characteristic a feature of the Renaissance. The rapture of spring ran hot in men's veins. Life was an uninterrupted succession of revelry and gaiety, amid splendour of colouring and glitter of gold. The goldsmith emerges from the subordinate state he occupied in the mediæval guild, and attains fame as a free artist, whose duty was to minister personally to the luxurious tastes of those who played a part in the gorgeous pageant of the new epoch. The goldsmiths included among their ranks great master craftsmen, whose perfection of technical skill seemed to find satisfaction only in overcoming the greatest problems that their art could offer.

Vasari tells of the very close connection and almost constant intercourse that existed between the goldsmiths and the painters. Indeed, nearly every artist, before applying himself to painting, architecture, or sculpture, began with the study of the goldsmith's craft, and "passed the years of his apprenticeship in the technical details of an industry that then supplied the strictest method of design."[117]

The names of several artists of the Renaissance have been handed down who are specially recorded as having worked at jewellery. One of the earliest of those who began their career in the goldsmith's workshops is Ghiberti (b. 1378), who throughout life remained faithful to that species of work. His jewellery is specially extolled by Vasari.

Following upon Ghiberti were two great jewellers, Tommaso (commonly called Maso) di Finiguerra and Antonio Pollaiuolo; the former famous for his nielli, the latter for his enamel-work upon relief. Pollaiuolo's love for jewel-forms in his paintings (executed together with his brother Piero) is seen not only in the Annunciation at Berlin, but in the group of SS. Eustace, James, and Vincent in the Uffizi, and the portrait of Simonetta Vespucci at Chantilly. Born in 1435, a few years after Pollaiuolo, Andrea del Verrocchio resembled in the peculiar versatility of his genius, others of these typical artists of the Middle or High Renaissance—the Epoch of the Goldsmith it has been termed.

A jeweller whose influence in his own day was greater, and whose fame almost equalled that of Cellini, was Ambrogio Foppa, called Caradosso, who was born about 1446 at Milan. He worked first in the service of Ludovico Sforza, and afterwards at Rome, where he died as late as the year 1530. He seems to have been skilled in every branch of the goldsmith's art, and especially excelled in making little medallions of gold, enriched with figures in high relief and covered with enamels, which were worn as enseignes in the hat or hair. His work in this direction is highly extolled by Cellini, and his skill in enamelling specially mentioned by Vasari.

Though Ghirlandaio does not fill his pictures with dainty details like the intricate settings which Botticelli devised for the neck-pendants of the Graces in his "Primavera," yet he invariably pays careful regard to the representation of jewelled accessories. Such may be seen in the well-known portrait of Giovanna Tornabuoni (1488), belonging to Mr. Pierpont Morgan (formerly in the Kann Collection). She has two jewels: one, worn on her breast, is formed of a ruby in claw setting with a small beryl above, and hung with three pendent pearls; the other, specially introduced into the picture and lying beside her in a recess, is composed of a cluster of stones—a ruby surrounded by two pearls and three beryls—beautifully set, and surmounted by a winged dragon with a sapphire over its head. Resting upon a table in the foreground of another picture—a curious panel in the possession of Mr. George Salting—representing Costanza de' Medici, are several pins, three rings on a roll of parchment, and a pendant hung with three pearls and set with a large and a small sapphire. In the Pitti Gallery is a portrait, not by Domenico, but by his son Ridolfo Ghirlandaio, which may be here alluded to owing to the special interest of its subject. The portrait is that of a jeweller holding in his hand and gazing intently at what is presumably one of his own creations—a richly enamelled jewel fashioned in the form of a "pelican in its piety."

Concerning the jewellery of the great goldsmith of Bologna, Francesco Raibolini, called Francia, a considerable amount of information has been preserved. Born in 1450, he passed the best part of his life as a goldsmith, and not till he was upwards of forty did he abandon the goldsmith's art for that of the painter.[118] One of Francia's finest paintings is the "Felicini" altar-piece in the Bologna Gallery, executed in 1484 by commission of Messer Bartolomeo Felicini for the church of S. Maria della Misericordia in that city. Among the many splendid gifts this famous church had received was a jewel which the records say was set by Francia himself. Its beauty was held in such esteem, that by desire of the chapter the artist introduced it into his picture, where it can be seen hanging over the head of the Madonna. Its centre is occupied by a fine amethyst, and is bordered by deep blood-crimson enamel, with pearls at the angles. So carefully is every detail of this jewel painted, that a modern goldsmith has found no difficulty in copying it with absolute exactness[119] (Pl. XXV, 1).

From actual examples we obtain but slight information of the Italian ornaments of the fifteenth century; but that there is a distinct alteration in the style of jewellery between the Quattrocento and the Cinquecento, the pictures of these great artistic periods offer abundant proofs. This difference is particularly noticeable in ornaments for the head. During the fifteenth century we find the forehead heightened, and the space thus obtained emphasised by a single jewel placed at the top of the brow. This form of ornament is admirably shown in Piero della Francesca's "Nativity" in the National Gallery, and particularly in his "Madonna and Child," with saints and angels, and with the donor, Federigo of Montefeltro, Duke of Urbino, in the Brera, Milan. The parts of these two pictures most characteristic of the artist are the figures of the angels, who wear jewels executed with extraordinary brilliancy—compositions of pearls in delicate goldwork enriched with blue enamel. Precious stones and jewels were often sewn, at regular intervals, all round the band of ribbon or galloon that encircled the head, as seen in a portrait in the Ambrosiana, Milan, ascribed to Ambrogio da Predis, and considered to be that of Beatrice d' Este; but it is more usual to find in the centre of the brow an isolated jewel, held by a narrow ribbon or silken cord, knotted at the back of the head—as in Caroto's portrait of the Duchess Elizabeth Gonzaga in the Uffizi, who wears on the forehead a jewelled scorpion, emblem of logic.

This head-ornament is known as the ferronnière; and the origin of its title is somewhat peculiar. There is in the Louvre an attractive and greatly admired portrait of a lady, with her hair held in place by black cord supporting a diamond in the middle of the forehead. For many years the portrait was entitled "La Belle Ferronnière," having been erroneously considered to be that of the blacksmith's wife (ferronnière) whose beauty enthralled Francis I in his declining years. It is now generally held to be a portrait of Lucrezia Crivelli, mistress of Ludovico Moro, Duke of Milan. The name of the painter is a matter of dispute, though the work is still ascribed, as it has long been, to Leonardo da Vinci. At the beginning of the nineteenth century, when the Romantic movement was at its height, a similar ornament was revived, and received its present name under a misconception of the subject of the picture. In the sixteenth century this simple ornament is abandoned, and it was the painter's task to depict magnificent coiffures like those of Veronese's ladies, sprinkled with jewels and entwined with ropes of pearls.

As regards the ornaments for the neck, the changes of fashion in the two periods and the artistic mode of expressing the fashion demanded a different style of jewellery. The slender neck which is displayed in the portraits of the earlier period required lighter ornaments than did the massive forms of the later. "The artist no longer trifled with single gems, hanging on a thread, but painted a solid chain, and the light, close-fitting necklace becomes pendent and heavy."[120] The distinct refinement exhibited in Italy in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries did not demand a great profusion or variety of jewellery. As the pendent ornament for the neck-chain, a simple jewel formed by one stone in the centre and smaller stones or four pearls around seems in most cases to have been sufficient. Circular pendants of niello-work surrounded by silver-gilt bands of corded ornament were much in use, and a small number, dating from about 1460 to 1530, have survived. They sometimes bear a religious subject (Pl. XIX, 4). But not infrequently the head of a lady is represented in profile, generally with a flower under her nose; and it is possible that these were worn by men as a pledge of affection from their lady-love. Finger rings with somewhat similar designs were also worn (Pl. XXIII, 16).

Beyond a small number of objects of this description, very few examples of Italian Quattrocento jewellery have escaped the crucible. The change of taste even between the early and the full Renaissance was sufficient to cause their destruction. Among surviving jewels of this century is a very beautiful gold and enamel pendant in the collection of Mr. Pierpont Morgan. It is circular in form, and was probably intended as a reliquary. Upon the front is an Annunciation in high relief. The garment of the Virgin is enriched with red and blue, and that of the angel with red and white enamel; the chequered base being of translucent green. Around is a border of leaves and flowers enamelled red and white. The open-work back consists of a central rosette, surrounded by interlacing curves, and edged with a delicate wreath (Pl. XXV, 2).

It remains to draw attention, by means of a beautiful representation of jewellery in painting, to an example of the style of brooch worn in Florence in the latter part of the fifteenth century. The picture referred to is that of the Virgin and Child (No. 296) in the National Gallery. It is apparently the work of Verrocchio, Pollaiuolo, or one of the goldsmith-painters of whom we have spoken; for the minute execution of the ornaments would seem to denote the hand of an artist who had practised the goldsmith's and jeweller's art. The brooch that serves as a fastening for the Virgin's cloak—the same being represented on that of one of the angels—is of most charming design. It has in the centre a table-cut ruby, around which are set four pearls between ornaments in the form of blackberries, surrounded by an outer border of blackberry leaves. So carefully is the jewel drawn that every detail can bear close inspection. A peculiar point of interest is that the pearls, each of which is set in a couple of crutch-like clasps, appear to correspond to the "perles à potences" frequently mentioned in the contemporary jewel inventories of the Dukes of Burgundy.

Some measure of compensation for the unfortunate lack of actual examples of Italian Quattrocento jewellery is obtained, apart from their representation in pictures, by the very remarkable use that was made of jewel forms for the marginal decoration of manuscripts. Such enrichments of the borders of missals, etc., by means of painted jewel ornaments, would seem to be but the direct outcome of the system whereby most of the painters, sculptors, architects, and no less eminent miniaturists received their first instruction in art in the workshops of the goldsmiths. It is certain from their quality that the jewels represented in manuscripts, generally in their natural size, are the work of artists well acquainted with the jeweller's art, whose eyes were further impressed by the embroidered edgings of ecclesiastical vestments enriched with jewel ornaments and sewn with pearls and precious stones. In painting with corresponding luxury the border decorations of church missals, the miniaturists have obviously not drawn on their imagination, or constructed jewel forms in a mere haphazard manner. The individual pieces, often complete jewels, are just such as might at the time have been found on the shelves of some goldsmith's workshop.

Among the most skilful of such reproductions of jewels are those in the celebrated choir books of the cathedral of Siena, particularly the pages painted by Liberale di Giacomo da Verona, who worked at Siena from the year 1466. An examination of these illuminations reveals Liberale as an artist thoroughly conversant with the jeweller's craft: so that his work, together with that of his followers, such as the Florentine Giovanni di Giuliano Boccardi, the Dominican Fra Eustachio, Litti di Filippo Corbizi, Monte di Giovanni, Antonio di Girolamo, the famous Attavante, and the various miniaturists of King Mathias Corvinus of Hungary, apart from its charming execution, constitutes a veritable storehouse of information respecting the ornaments of the period. Particularly fine examples of jewelled and enamelled decorations are also contained in choir books in the cathedral of Florence, missals in the Barberini Palace, Rome, a Bible of Mathias Corvinus in the Vatican Library, several books in the Brera at Milan, and the fine Glockendon missal (circa 1540) in the Town Library at Nuremberg. More important perhaps than all is the Grimani Breviary, now in the Library of St. Mark's, Venice. The ornamentation of this famous work, the product of a Flemish artist of the final years of the fifteenth century, displays a northern naturalism favourable to the striking representation of jewel forms, and serves to illustrate the close and active relationship then existing between the Flemish and Italian goldsmiths.[121]

CHAPTER XXI

In enumerating certain characteristics that distinguish sixteenth-century jewellery from that of other epochs, the enormous quantity used may first of all be noted. A general increase in wealth had taken place, but in the comparative rarity of opportunity for investments, it was still customary to keep gold and precious stones secreted,[122] or, as was more generally done, make them into ornaments of small compass and easily convertible into hard cash.

Coupling this with the magnificent style of living during the Renaissance, we need feel less surprise at the extraordinary abundance of jewellery which we read of in contemporary chronicles, and find represented in the utmost variety on the portraits of the period. Men of solid reputation and serious disposition seem, equally with women, to have fallen victims to the reigning passion for jewellery.

If we are at first inclined to wonder at the number of Cinquecento jewels that have survived, we can more readily understand that they represent the merest fraction of what formerly existed, when we take into consideration all the risks of destruction such fragile and precious objects have undergone—objects by their nature the very first to disappear. Monetary pressure caused by war, the division of property, and many other events were fraught with danger to objects in the precious metals. Change of taste, almost as rapid as that in dress, which has caused the last fashion but one to be the least of all desired, necessitated the repeated refashioning of jewellery. Notwithstanding their perfection, the exquisite productions of the sixteenth century were unable to resist the fatal influence of fashion, and were largely broken up towards the termination of the seventeenth century, when brilliant enamels and artistically wrought gold were less in request, and the precious metals became entirely subservient to the stones, for which they acted simply as settings. On the other hand, their small size, which has rendered them easy to conceal, accounts for the preservation of some examples, while mere chance, or perhaps an historical association, oft-times solely traditional, has saved others from destruction.

The finest productions of the artificers of antiquity transcend in abstract beauty of design everything, perhaps, that has since been produced. Those of the mediæval craftsmen possess a charm and beauty impossible to deny, and a peculiar naïveté and ingenuousness of their own, to be looked for in vain elsewhere. It must be acknowledged, however, that the jewels of the Renaissance, the receptacle of every variety of adornment by way of precious stones, pearls, and enamels that the goldsmith could devise in order to enrich them, are in their own manner incomparable. It may be that some err so far on the side of over-elaboration that they lose the balance and dignity of harmonious design, but the majority possess qualities rarely found in combination save at this remarkable period—a richness of form, boldness of conception, and extraordinary refinement of technique. There is no species of technical work, whether it was a case of hammering, chasing, or casting, or, above all, enamelling, that was not then brought to perfection. But the splendours of the Renaissance must not blind us to the efforts of the preceding age; for thorough though the change was from the style of Gothic art, the jewellers of the Renaissance were deeply indebted to the mediæval traditions which they had by their side to aid them in developing their artistic conceptions.

Another noticeable point with regard to the jewellery of this period is its astonishing variety. Its decline, and reduction to a monotonous repetition of design, coincides with the disappearance of those artists who possessed the universality of a man like Cellini, and with the division of labour characteristic of modern art and industry.

In addition to the enormous quantity used, a distinctive feature of Renaissance ornaments is the preference shown for colour. The placing together of bright-coloured gems with delicately worked gold invariably enriched with polychrome enamels is the fundamental motive of the jewellery of the period. So admirable was the craftsman's taste that each jewel forms in itself a scheme perfect in design and colour, and the rubies, emeralds, and sapphires introduced for the sake of their colour values, serve the composition as a whole without overwhelming it; while the diamond, which comprised almost the sole material of the jewellery of later times, was used only for purposes of contrast. It cannot be said that precious stones had entirely forfeited their mediæval reputation at the period of the revival; but as jewellery was beginning to assume generally the character of mere ornament, the stones which enriched it were naturally chosen rather with an eye to their decorative qualities than for any fancied virtues they might be considered to possess.

One of the charms of this old jewellery lies in the setting of its stones, which are mostly table-cut, and fixed in square pyramidal collets. The usual process of setting was to rub the upper edges of the closed and box-like collet over the setting edge of the stone, and occasionally to lay over this an additional ornament in imitation of claws. This manner of beating up or pressing the edges of the collet over the faceted sides of the stone is extremely pleasing, for the stone, with its colour thrown up by a foil or paillon, harmonises admirably with the somewhat irregular frame of gold that surrounds it.

The art of enamelling, especially where figures are represented in full relief, attains the highest point of perfection. Even when enamels cover the various parts of jewels in a wondrous harmony of colour, the artists of the period contrived with extraordinary tact to leave small portions in gold: the hair of the figures, manes of horses, armour, weapons—glittering points that enhance the beauty of the whole. Translucent and opaque enamels are found side by side employed in different modes with astounding assurance. Extensive use was made of opaque white enamel, always by way of contrast; a favourite device being to enrich with it the edges of tendrils in the form of minute beads, each no larger than a pin's head.

It is the desire for harmony and beauty of execution, rather than for display of wealth, that characterises the best productions of the Renaissance, whose true value lies not in their intrinsic, but in their real artistic worth. The whole of every jewel, back as well as front, is finished and enamelled with the same exquisite care. What little material value these jewels possessed when their form and design was destroyed and their beautiful devices obliterated is well illustrated by Brantôme's story of the jewels of the Countess of Châteaubriand. This lady had been supplanted in the affections of Francis I by another—the future Duchess of Estampes—who persuaded the King to claim all the fine jewels he had bestowed on his former mistress. The value of these lay chiefly in their beautiful designs and devices, so on receiving the demand, she melted them all down, and returned them to him converted into golden ingots.

The splendid love of life which finds expression in every production of Renaissance art exercises a pervading influence over its jewellery, and determines the subjects to be represented. All the larger objects, and indeed every object which is not of a purely decorative pattern, is given to the depicting of a subject. Throughout the finest period of jewellery, goldsmith's work was closely associated with sculpture; and the human figure, or figures of animals either real or imaginary, wrought in relief or executed in the round, find a place on almost every jewelled composition. The subjects, largely chosen from among the new circle of ideas opened up by the literature of the Renaissance, reveal wide knowledge of classical mythology, romance, and poetic legends, as well as remarkable adaptive genius. Nor are subjects from the Old and New Testaments excluded; though fanciful groups—in one case a representation of some theological virtue, and in another some sacred allegory—are more popular. The symbolical figures of the Middle Ages, as the unicorn and the "pelican in her piety," with sea monsters and fantastic men and beasts, are of frequent occurrence. Subjects such as these, and many others suggested by the fertile mind of the Renaissance jeweller and the artist who drew his designs, are so numerous that space would fail were one to attempt to enumerate even a tithe of those met with on jewels of the Cinquecento.

Notwithstanding its subjects, we find in the jewellery of the Renaissance, beyond what tradition had preserved, no direct influence resulting from the study of the ornaments of the ancients, though the awakened interest of Italy in the antique cannot but have been accompanied by some acquaintance with the productions of her early goldsmiths. There appears, however, to have been no attempt to base the jewels of the period on the forms of ancient ornaments, to imitate the beaded work of the Etruscans or the goldwork of ancient Greece or Rome.

Yet Renaissance design of the sixteenth century, with its arabesques and scrollwork (best represented by Raphael's famous arabesques in the Loggia of the Vatican) seems to have been in the main inspired by antique designs, such as the frescoes discovered at Rome in 1506, in the Baths of Petus—the so-called grottos, from which was derived, as Cellini explains, the term grotesque.

The newly developed design, a combination of figures, masks, flowers, fruits, and various other details, applicable as it was to every branch of art, was peculiarly adapted to jewellery, and was quickly seized upon by the jewellers, who employed it for ornaments of a purely decorative formation, or for the framework or backgrounds of the exquisite figured compositions then so much in vogue.

The real difficulty that confronts one in dealing with the jewellery of the sixteenth century lies not in the inability to obtain the necessary material examples, but in expressing a definite opinion as to their nationality and origin; and this difficulty the best informed and most experienced connoisseurs are the first to confess. The utmost, therefore, that one can hope to do, without attempting in every case to arrive at accurate conclusions, is to indicate, as far as possible, such means as may be of assistance in ascribing a nationality, not to all, but to at least the majority of Renaissance ornaments.

ITALY, SIXTEENTH CENTURY

Italian jewellery of the sixteenth century presents what is probably one of the most difficult problems in the whole history of the art. In the fifteenth century the almost complete absence of examples necessitates recourse mainly to pictures; but Italian pictures of the sixteenth century are of comparatively small assistance, from the fact that Italian painters of that period mostly neglected the preciosity of style and delicacy of perception that studied the gleam and shimmer on jewels and such-like objects. The bright blending of beautiful colours had to give way to strong shadows and skilful effects of perspective. There exists, on the other hand, an abundance of material in the form of actual specimens of Cinquecento jewellery, but owing to the far-reaching influence of the Renaissance style of ornament a decision as to their precise provenance is a matter of the utmost difficulty.

The great popularity of one of the central figures of the late Renaissance—Benvenuto Cellini (1500-1572)—has for many years caused the finest examples to be attributed to him or to his school, often with complete disregard of their design, which can be traced in many cases to another source. It is unnecessary to give a biographical account of the famous Florentine goldsmith, for his life may best be studied in his own memoirs. More to the present purpose is it to attempt to estimate the real position that Cellini should occupy, especially with regard to such examples of jewellery as have come down to the present day.

Upon the question of Cellini the artistic world has long been divided into two camps. The majority of those who have previously dealt with the subject have considered it sufficient to sum up the whole history of the jeweller's art of the sixteenth century under the name of this one artist, and to attribute everything important to him. The lively and singularly attractive narrative of his own life and adventures contains such candid glorification of himself and his work, that the temptation is strong to follow the majority, and, unmindful of his contemporaries, to associate with him, as he himself has done, the finest jewellery of the whole Renaissance. Eugène Plon, for example, Cellini's chief exponent, in his magnificent work, Benvenuto Cellini, Orfèvre, Médailleur, Sculpteur (1883), though eminently just, and on the whole fair in his attributions, cannot disguise an evident desire to ascribe to the Florentine goldsmith, or at any rate to his school, not only several jewels which might conceivably be associated with Cellini, but also several others of more doubtful origin. Among these is the important group of jewels in the Rothschild Collection in the British Museum, known as the Waddesdon Bequest, the real origin of all of which is held by those best entitled to judge to be incontestably German.

Cellini's critics, on the other hand, sceptical, and in the main dispassionate, have placed him under a more searching light, and despoiled him of the halo with which his own memoirs have encircled him. He remains, however, an excellent and many-sided artist, thoroughly versed in all the technicalities of his craft, and one who without doubt strongly influenced his contemporaries. Admirable goldsmith and jeweller as he certainly was, he is entitled to the highest distinction, but not so much on account of the references in his Vita and Trattati to his own productions, as for his lucid treatment of technical questions.

"Artists," says Mr. Symonds, "who aspire to immortality should shun the precious metals." Despite all that has been said respecting such jewels as the Leda and the Swan at Vienna (Pl. XXIX, 5), the Chariot of Apollo at Chantilly, and the mountings of the two cameos, the Four Cæsars and the Centaur and the Bacchic Genii in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris, which have, with some degree of likelihood, been attributed to Cellini, the only quite authenticated example of his work as a goldsmith is the famous golden salt-cellar at Vienna. This object when looked at from the goldsmith's point of view, in the matter of fineness of workmanship and skill in execution, is seen to possess particular characteristics which should be sufficient to prevent the attribution to Cellini of other contemporary work, created by jewellers who clearly drew their inspiration from entirely different sources.

In endeavouring to affix a nationality to existing jewels, the only really serviceable landmarks are those furnished by the collections of engraved designs by German and French masters of ornament; and when these are compared with the contemporary work just spoken of, the common origin of nearly all becomes at once evident. Bearing in mind the skill and fame of the Italian goldsmiths, not only of Cellini, but of his contemporaries, such as Girolamo del Prato, Giovanni da Ferenzuola, Luca Agnolo, and Piero, Giovanni, and Romalo del Tovaloccio, the reason why the vast majority of extant jewels should follow German designs is difficult to understand. An authority no less reliable than Sir A. W. Franks has expressed an opinion that the designs of Dürer, Aldegrever, and other German artists were extensively used in Italy.[123] Italian goldsmiths did not produce any such examples of engraved ornament for jewellery as did their confrères in Germany, France, and Flanders; but the current knowledge we possess of the art of the period renders it at least unlikely that the individuality which is the key-note of all the productions of the Italian Renaissance would have countenanced there, in Italy, the use of extraneous ready-made designs. Certainly artists of the stamp of Cellini would not have used them. One is forced nevertheless to acknowledge the possibility of minor Italian craftsmen having executed jewels from German engravings. The international character visible on so many art objects of the time must be attributed in no small degree to the circulation of such designs in almost all the workshops of Europe.

A reason for the many difficulties that arise in connection with this particular question seems to lie in the fact that for causes unexplained the jewellery of the first half of the sixteenth century, whether Italian, German, or of other nationality, has almost all vanished, and that examples met with at the present day belong chiefly to the second half of that century. While acknowledging the existence of a fair number of jewels whose authorship cannot be otherwise than Italian, and without denying the possibility of the survival of examples of jewellery even from the hand of Cellini himself, a protest must be raised against the practice, hitherto so common, of describing every jewel of the sixteenth century as Italian, and of coupling every high-class object of this description with the magic name of Cellini.

CHAPTER XXII

From an early period there had been a steady flow of artists leaving Germany to study in the great Italian ateliers. The principal of these, and one who influenced his countrymen more than any, was Albert Dürer, who showed in the engravings produced after his journey to Italy a perfect apprehension of Italian design. As it travelled northward, Renaissance ornament increased in freedom from classic rule, and in the hands of the later draughtsmen and engravers who executed patterns for the goldsmiths, it lost much of its original purity, and assumed a mixed style, composed of strap and ribbon work, cartouches, and intricate complications of architectural members; while the industrious affectation of the jewellers of the day for manipulative difficulties led to the production of ornaments whose effect is sometimes marred by over-elaboration of detail.

In addition to other circumstances, we must remember that the greater wealth of the middle classes was a powerful factor in the increasing production of jewellery. The goldsmiths consequently occupied an important position; and that there was a great demand for their services is proved by the fact that patterns for jewellery executed on their behalf by the foremost engravers of the day form no unimportant part of the engraved work produced by these artists.

In Germany, as elsewhere, success in trade resulted in a demand for objects of luxury. The city of Augsburg, situated on a great trade route, early attained to a height of commercial prosperity, while Munich, and especially Nuremberg, not far distant, flourished to an equal degree. Under the stimulating patronage of wealthy families, such as the Fugger family of Augsburg, articles of jewellery of every kind were produced in abundance, and throughout the sixteenth century found their way over nearly the whole of Europe. In addition to these three cities, Prague during the last few years of the sixteenth and the commencement of the seventeenth century was likewise a centre for the manufacture of an immense amount of enamelled jewellery. This industry, carried on with considerable activity owing to the influence of the Archduke Ferdinand of Tirol (1520-1595), brother of Maximilian II, was most flourishing in the time of the Emperor Rudolph II (1552-1612), King of Hungary and Bohemia, under whose patronage several remarkable specimens of German goldsmith's work now at Vienna were executed, such as the Austrian Imperial Crown, made in the year 1602.

The epoch of about forty years that terminated at the death of Rudolph II in 1612, and known as the Rudolphine period, witnessed the production, mainly in Southern Germany, of the greater part of the enamelled jewellery now extant. Renaissance jewellery, as we speak of it, may be said to have almost ceased after that period, at a date which coincided with the outbreak of the Thirty Years' War in Germany, and the Civil War in England.

Its proximity to Italy rendered Augsburg more quickly subject to the influence of the Italian style than Nuremberg and Munich, though by the middle of the sixteenth century the whole of Southern Germany followed the style of decoration of the Italian masters so thoroughly, that it is difficult to assign a large proportion of the ornaments of the period to either nation, since the distinguishing feature of the hall-mark finds no place on jewellery, as on other objects in the precious metals. It is true that the extraordinary development of cartouche and strap ornament on German work, as on that of the Netherlands, serves in many cases to distinguish it from the Italian, yet there is sufficient similarity in details of ornamentation, in masks and figures, as well as in the method of enamel-work and the setting of gems, to account for the divergence of opinion that exists as to the provenance of all the jewels of the period. Such is the glamour that surrounds Italian art, that it has been the custom to assign every fine jewel of the Renaissance to Italy; but a careful examination of existing examples has left us convinced that by far the greater number of them are not Italian, but of German origin, and belong to the second half of the sixteenth century and the early years of the seventeenth. Portraits, alone, by such German painters as Wolgemut, Strigel, Burgkmair, Altdorfer, Hans Baldung Grien, Lucas Cranach, and Bartholomäus Bruyn, show that by the very commencement of the sixteenth century the wealth of the merchant princes of Southern Germany resulted in an even greater display of jewellery than was indulged in by the Italians.

Various other considerations contribute to this conviction. First and foremost is the question of the designs from which the jewellers drew their ideas. A certain number of original drawings for jewellery by German artists exist. Of these there are examples of the work of the two greatest, namely Dürer (1471-1528) and Holbein (1497-1543). To Holbein's drawings, which were executed in England, detailed reference is made in a later chapter. In his designs for jewellery, as in all else, Dürer, the son of a goldsmith and descended from one on his mother's side, maintains a high standard of excellence.

His drawings (as catalogued by Lippmann) include the following: (1) In the Kunsthalle, Bremen. Three sketches for pendent whistles, where the sound-producing part is formed of a ball with a hole in it, into which the air is carried by a pipe. In two cases the ball is held in the mouth of a lion, and in the third in the beak of a cock. The animals stand each on a curved pipe, and have a ring above for suspension (L. 124). (2) In the British Museum. Two sketches for ring-shaped pendants—apparently whistles (Pl. XXVI, 1). In both cases is air blown from a mouthpiece half-way round the ring into a ball held in an animal's mouth (L. 252). (3) In the possession of Herr von Feder, Karlsruhe. Four designs for brooches and clasps, richly ornamented (L. 433-435, and 437). Two of these sketches (L. 433 and 437) and several others (the whereabouts of the originals of which is not known) were etched by Wenzel Hollar in the seventeenth century, and are enumerated in Parthey's catalogue of Hollar's works. The etchings after the two known originals are numbered 2565 and 2561. The other jewels etched by Hollar from Dürer's designs are the following: (1) A pendant in the form of St. George and the Dragon within a laurel wreath, with a ring above and below (P. 165). (2) A girdle-end formed of two dolphins with a chain attached (P. 2559). (3) A buckle and buckle-plate—the buckle formed of two dolphins, the plate ornamented with two cornucopiæ (P. 2560). (4) A round scent-case or pomander (P. 2567). In addition are miscellaneous designs for ornaments, erroneously considered to be patterns for embroidery (P. 2562-3-4 and 2566). A charming representation of a pendent jewel is seen in Dürer's woodcut of the Emperor Maximilian's Triumphal Arch suspended from the Imperial Crown held by the figure of Genius.