PIERRE ROFFET

SECTION IV. WORKS PRINTED BY TORY FOR PRIVATE INDIVIDUALS.

1

ANTISTITIS INCOMPARABILIS MICHÆLIS BODETI, DUM VIVERET EPISCOPI DUCIS LINGONENSIS ET PARIS FRANCIÆ EPICEDIUM.

Below this title, the arms of Michel de Boudet, engraved on wood. At the end is the Pot Cassé, with this colophon: 'Parisiis anno salutis humanæ 1530.' (Michel de Boudet had died in 1529, with the title of duke and peer, which the Bishops of Langres had borne since the twelfth century.) Six quarto leaves [Paris, G. Tory, 1530]. Library of the Faculty of Medicine of Montpellier, no. 292.

Having had occasion to visit the neighbourhood of Montpellier for reasons connected with my health, I seized the opportunity to examine this volume and complete my information concerning it. On the first page, surrounded by the border of the Colines copies of the Hours of 1524-1525, are these words: 'Antistitis Incomparabilis Michælis Bodeti dum viveret Episcopi Ducis Lingonensis et Franciæ Paris Epicedium.' Then the arms of Michel de Boudet. On the verso: 'Cautum est privilegio, ne quis hoc Epicedium imprimat aut imprimi curet infra biennium subpöena in diplomate ad hoc obtento contenta.' The four following leaves contain a poem in honour of Michel de Boudet; on the sixth is the Pot Cassé, no. 6, and beneath it: 'Parrhisiis, Anno salutis humanæ, M. D. XXX.' There is nothing to indicate the author of this little work, which is printed in the same type as the Epitaphs in honour of the mother of François I.[271]

2

APOLOGIE POUR LA FOI CHRESTIENNE CONTRE LES ERREURS CONTENUES EN UN PETIT LIVRE DE MESSIRE GEORGES HALEVIN.

Paris, G. Tory, 1531. Octavo.

I borrow this description from the 'Catalogue de la Bibliothèque de feu M. de La Vallière' (vol. i, p. 275), for I have not been able to inspect this work, which, however, should be in the Bibliothèque de l'Arsenal with M. de La Vallière's other books, and in the library at Sainte-Geneviève, whither it must have gone with the collection of Le Tellier in whose catalogue it also appears.

3

HISTOIRE DES EMPEREURS DE TURQUIE, translated from Latin into French by Barthélemy Dupré. 1532.

I borrow this abridged description from a biography of Tory published by M. Chevalier de Saint-Amand, honorary librarian of Bourges, in the 'Annonces Berruyères,' no. 38 (September, 21, 1837).[272]

4

LADOLESCENCE CLEMENTINE. AUTREMENT, LES OEUVRES DE CLEMENT MAROT DE CAHORS EN QUERCY, VALET DE CHAMBRE DU ROY, COMPOSEES EN LEAGE DE SON ADOLESCENCE.—AVEC LA COMPLAINCTE SUR LE TRESPAS DE FEU MESSIRE FLORIMOND ROBERTET.ET PLUSIEURS AUTRES OEUVRES FAICTES PAR LEDICT MAROT DEPUIS LEAGE DE SA DICTE ADOLESCENCE. Le tout reveu, corrige & mis en bon ordre.—On les vend a Paris, devant Lesglise Saincte Geneviefve des Ardens, Rue Neufve nostre Dame. A Lenseigne du Faulcheur.—Avec privilege pour Trois Ans.

At the end: 'The printing of this present book was finished on Monday the XII day of August. Year M. D. XXXII. For Pierre Roffet, called le Faulcheur. By maistre Geofroy Tory de Bourges, king's printer.

Octavo, 1st edition. Only a single copy is known, now in the Bibliothèque Nationale. The volume consists, first, of four preliminary leaves (half a fold), comprising: (1) the title which I have just transcribed; (2) on the verso, some laudatory verses, among which figures this distich of Tory, who was not only Marot's printer, but his friend:—

'Vis lauros cypriasque comas, charitesque, iocosque,
Inde sales etiam nosse? Marotus habet';

(3) Clément's letter 'to a large number of brethren,' dated August 12, 1532, that is to say, on the same day that Tory finished printing the book, and not August 12, 1530, as was erroneously printed in some subsequent editions, which has given rise to a theory of an earlier issue[273]; (4) the table of contents; (5) a leaf entirely blank. Then comes the text of the 'Adolescence Clementine,' extending from folio 1 to folio 104, on which is the word 'finis'; and after that the 'Chant royal,' etc., from 105 to 115. The book ends with a list of errata on an unnumbered folio (116). The table of contents, on one of the preliminary leaves, informs us that one ode had previously been published separately, but no copy of it is known.

5

The Same.

A second edition of this book was published by the same bookseller, and the printing finished by Tory on November 13, 1532. It differs from the first in this respect, that the text and preliminary leaves are joined, or, to speak more accurately, the first two of those leaves; for the table of contents is relegated to the end of the volume, in place of the errata, which no longer appear. The volume consists of a hundred and nineteen leaves, the last unnumbered. The word 'finis' still appears on folio 104, after the 'Adolescence Clementine'; then comes the 'Chant royal,' etc.; and lastly two leaves entitled: 'Autres Œuvres faictes en sa dicte maladie,' indicated by this phrase on the title-page: 'Plus amples que les premiers imprimez de ceste, ny autre impression.' (Bibliothèque Mazarine.)

6

The Same.

A third edition was printed by Tory on February 12, 1532 (1533, new style), like the preceding in every respect, but having only 118 leaves.

7

The Same.

A fourth edition appeared June 7, 1533, identical with the preceding, except that the words on the title-page, 'plus amples,' etc. are replaced by these: 'Avec certains accens notez, cest assavoir sur le é masculin different du feminim [sic], sur les dictions ioinctes ensembles par sinalephes, et soubz le ç quant il tient de la prononciation de le s, ce qui par cy devant par faulte daduis n'a este faict au langaige françoys, combien q'uil [sic] y fust et soit tres necessaire.'

This fourth edition of the 'Adolescence Clementine' was the last work printed by Tory to my knowledge. In the intervals between these four editions, however, he had published the works of Clément Marot's father, edited by Clément himself, under the following title:—

8

IAN MAROT DE CAEN, SUR LES DEUX HEUREUX VOYAGES DE GENES & VENISE, VICTORIEUSEMENT MYS A FIN, PAR LE TRESCHRESTIEN ROY LOYS DOUZIESME DE CE NOM, PERE DU PEUPLE. ET VERITABLEMENT ESCRIPTZ PAR ICELUY IAN MAROT, ALORS POETE ESCRIUAIN DE LA TRESMAGNANIME ROYNE ANNE, DUCHESSE DE BRETAIGNE, & DEPUYS VALET DE CHAMBRE DU TRESCHRESTIĒ ROY FRANCOYS PREMIER DU NOM. On les vent a Paris, deuant Lesglise Saincte Geneuiefue des Ardens, Rue Neufue Nostre Dame, A Lenseigne du Faulcheur.—Auec priuilege pour Trois Ans.[274]

At the end: 'The printing of this present book was finished the XXII day of January, M. D. XXXII [1533, new style], for Pierre Roufet, called Le Faulcheur, by maistre Geufroy Tory de Bourges, king's printer.'

Octavo of 101 leaves. (Bibliothèque Nationale.)

In this edition there is a letter of Clément Marot mentioning the death of his father, 'author of this book.'

9

The Same.

M. Brunet cites a second edition of this book, executed by Tory for the same bookseller in 1533.


PART III ICONOGRAPHY

PART III. ICONOGRAPHY.

AS I have hitherto called attention to the books that we owe to Tory whether as publisher, as author, or as printer and bookseller, so it will be well to notice those which he enriched with his paintings and engravings during twenty years of his life. This is a new aspect of his whole career which it is our present purpose to bring into view; for, while Tory was for some time teacher, bookseller, printer, he was always a draughtsman and engraver, from the day that he was a man grown.

But, first of all, there is a preliminary question to be decided: Was Tory really a painter and engraver? In the first part of this book I said that he was, but I did not furnish proofs of the fact, and none of the historians of painting or of engraving have mentioned him in that connection. It is advisable therefore, first of all, to demonstrate the accuracy of my assertion. In order to solve this complicated question more easily, let us divide it.

Was Tory a painter?

That Tory was a painter-draughtsman, there can be no doubt, for he himself makes the assertion in express terms on each page of 'Champ fleury.' For instance, we read on folio 3 verso of that work, apropos of the Gallic Hercules:—

'I saw this same fable in rich painting within the city of Rome near the Sanguine tower, not far from the Church of Saint Louis, ... and the better to keep the thing in my eye, I made this drawing....'

In the collection of verses written by him on the occasion of the death of his daughter Agnes, Tory makes her speak thus from the urn wherein she is supposed to repose:—

MONITOR.

Who made for you this urn, set with brilliant gems?

AGNES.

Who? My father; famed in this art.

MONITOR.

Certes, your father is an excellent potter.

AGNES.

He practises industriously every day the liberal arts.

Thus Geofroy Tory himself informs us in 1523 that he industriously practised the arts. Now, if this were true, he could not have been ignorant of drawing, which is the first of all the arts. Moreover, it is plain that in those days an engraver (and we shall prove in a moment that Tory was one) could not fail to be a draughtsman. The artist was at that time an all-round workman, embracing all the special branches of his profession: painting, drawing, engraving, he took a hand at them all. Not until it became vulgarized, until it became a trade, was art subdivided—and greatly to its prejudice. In truth, one cannot but realize all that there is to be desired in the work of those mercenaries of the engraver's art, who, having no knowledge of the first elements of drawing, are bidden to reproduce, with the aid of the graving tool, lines which they do not understand.

We can therefore assert that, as a general rule, the engravings found in Tory's books were drawn by him.

But this is not all: I believe that we should also attribute to him the admirable miniatures[275] that have come down to us of the painter known by the name of 'Godefroy.' If, indeed, we compare the engravings in Tory's books with the designs of that painter, we readily recognize a similarity of execution which seems to establish the identity of the two men. This Godefroy, who signs his works sometimes with the full name, sometimes with a simple G, but always in roman letters,—a noteworthy thing at a time when the gothic was in its most flourishing state,—was no other than Tory, whose baptismal name, as we have seen, was in Latin Godofredus. We know how little was thought of family names in the old days. As late as the sixteenth century it was no uncommon thing to see persons designated by their baptismal names alone, or, at most, with the name of their native place added. We have seen[276] that the famous painter Jean Perreal, Tory's master and friend, was little known except by the name of Jean de Paris. Tory himself is called Godefroy the Berrichon (Godofredus Biturix) in some verses which his friend Gérard de Vercel composed in his praise in 1512.[277] Even at the close of the sixteenth century our two leading bibliographers, Antoine du Verdier and La Croix du Maine, who also bore geographical names, deemed it proper to adopt no other order than that of baptismal names in arranging alphabetically the authors who are mentioned in their books entitled 'Bibliothèque Françoise.' There is nothing extraordinary therefore in Tory's signing his first works with a baptismal name alone. It is true that that name is slightly different, orthographically speaking, from the one that he used later; but it is well to remember the change that took place about that time in our author's customs. Doubtless he signed 'Godefroy' before he had entirely shaken off the yoke of the classical languages,[278] and had adopted the more French form 'Geofroy,' which was about the year 1523.

The dates inscribed upon some of Godefroy's paintings, 1519 and 1520, coincide perfectly with the known facts of Tory's life: that was the period when, after his second return from Italy, he was fain to utilize his talents for his livelihood. I may add that we have several engravings of that same period signed with a G alone, or with a G within which appears a small F; others signed with a G surmounted by the double cross, with a small S within; and others signed G. T., which serve to mark the transition between Tory's use of the simple G and the inscription in full of his two names, Geofroy Tory. These two names appear together in one of the borders of his Hours of 1524-1525 [the border which is to be found on p. 105].

Whatever the fact may be, we propose to give here, by way of memorandum, at least a brief list of the works of the painter Godefroy, referring the reader for fuller information to the interesting article which M. Léon de Laborde has published upon this subject in the 'Renaissance des Arts,' vol. i. pp. 891-913, and, later, in the 'Revue Universelle des Arts,' no. 1 (1855), which article we reproduce below with the author's consent.

The only manuscripts known to contain drawings of this artist are 'Les Commentaires de César,' in three small quarto volumes; and 'Les Triomphes de Petrarque,' in one small octavo volume—all written in French and bound in vellum.

The first-named work is not, as one might suppose from its title, a translation of the famous work of the conqueror of Gaul, but a commentary thereon in the form of a dialogue between Cæsar and François I, to whom the book is dedicated. The first volume is now in the British Museum at London, the second in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris, and the third in the collection of M. le Duc d'Aumale. All the miniatures in the first volume, and there is a great number of them, are signed with a G; some bear the date 1519. The same is true of the second volume. One of the miniatures in the third volume is signed in full, 'Godefroy' (folio 52); several others, signed G only, are dated 1520.

As for the 'Triumphs' of Petrarch, which is in the Bibliothèque de l'Arsenal, the miniatures bear no dates, but they are all signed with a G, and one has in addition the full name, 'Godefroy.' In the two works the drawings have the same general appearance; they are distinguished from those of the professional miniaturists by a very marked sobriety of colouring. They are noticeable, moreover, by reason of a delicacy of execution and, at the same time, a sharpness of outline which can have come from no other hand than that of an engraver; now the engraver can have been no other than Tory, whose shields and even his antique arabesques we find in these designs.

In addition to these two works, of which the name and the style of the artist seem to me to permit their being attributed to Tory, I will mention here several others, of a somewhat later date, which likewise various circumstances make it possible to attribute to him.

The first is a translation of the first three books of Diodorus Siculus, by Antoine Macault. This superb manuscript, which was in the library of M. Firmin Didot père in 1810, is to-day buried in one of the private libraries of England. A description will be found on pp. 166-168. It is true that there is nothing about it to suggest Tory, but the style of the painting and of the engraving (the book was printed by Tory's widow in 1535) leaves no doubt as to his authorship. The second is a collection of portraits of the kings of France, by Jean du Tillet, the manuscript of which, presented by the author to Charles IX, is still preserved in the Bibliothèque du Roi. See the description of this priceless manuscript, and of several others preserved in the same collection.[279]

We come now to the second question:—Was Tory an engraver?

Neither Zani nor Papillon mentions him as such; nevertheless, there is one presumption in his favour. La Croix du Maine, who was almost his contemporary, tells us[280], without going into details, it is true, that Tory was known by the name 'maître au Pot Cassé'; others have said that he perfected Josse Bade's letters.[281] M. Renouvier has recently written[282] that Tory possessed the rare faculty of using the 'eschoppe' [graver] as well as the pen. 'Le Champ fleury,' he says, 'is a treatise on æsthetics such as none but an engraver of types could conceive.' What M. Renouvier conjectured, I assert, with no fear of being contradicted by the facts. To be sure, Tory did not anywhere state categorically that he was an engraver; but he gave it to be understood indirectly. For example, he tells us that, among the fancies that came to his mind on the 6th of January, 1523, and resulted in the composition of 'Champ fleury,' he remembered 'a letter of ancient form,' which he had 'not long since made for the house of my lord the treasurer of the wars, maistre Jehan Groslier, counsellor and secretary to the king our sire.'[283] What was this ancient letter made for the famous bibliophile Grolier, if not the basis of the beautiful roman characters which were used in that scholar's establishment to decorate his books, and to stamp upon them, in gold, this excellent device, among others, 'Ioannis Grolierii et Amicorum?'[284]

Again, all the authorities agree that Claude Garamond was a pupil of Tory. Now, what could he have learned from his master, if not the art of engraving types,—he who did nothing else in his whole life?

Furthermore, it is impossible to doubt that Tory engraved types when one runs through his 'Champ fleury.' Note especially what he says on folio 34 recto, where, having given a drawing of a capital A reversed, he explains it in the technical terms of the engraver.

'This,' he says, 'is done to help and give hints to goldsmiths and engravers, who, with their burin, graver, or other tool, engrave and cut an ancient letter reversed [à l'envers], or, as we say, to the left, so that it may appear to the right when it is printed and placed in its proper aspect. I have purposely made it white, and its background black, the opposite of the one that is drawn to the right, so that no one may be misled. For, as I have said, I have seen and do see many persons who are misled. Before the letter to be printed is finished, it is made twice reversed and twice to the right. In the first of the reversed there are the punches[285] of steel, in which the letter is wholly left-handed. The matrices have the letter to the right. The letter then cast is, as I have said of the punches, left-handed. Then finally on the printed paper the whole appears to the right, and in its proper aspect to be read currently. I had forgotten to say that the broad leg of the A is one tenth of its square in width, and the other leg one third as wide. The transverse limb should be three fourths as wide as the broad leg, as you may see by the drawings herewith made and duly proportioned.'

After this, and knowing as we do the relations between Geofroy Tory and the Estienne family, it will not be deemed extraordinary that I attribute to our artist the italic letters of Simon de Colines, engraved about 1525, and the roman and italic letters of Robert Estienne, engraved a little later.

But Tory not only engraved letters, that is to say, punches on steel, as some authors have stated: he signalized himself above all by his engravings on wood, and he illustrated almost all the books of his time, which fact is almost wholly unknown. I shall be asked, doubtless, upon what evidence my opinion is based. It is this: In the license to print the book of Hours, granted to Tory by François I on September 23, 1524, we read:[286] 'Our dear and well-beloved maistre Geofroy Tory ... hath now caused it to be made known and shown unto us that he hath of late made and caused to be made certain pictures and vignettes "à l'antique," and likewise certain others, "à la moderne," to the end that the same may be printed and made use of in divers books of Hours, whereupon he hath employed himself a very long time, and hath made divers great expenditures and outlays.' Evidently the words 'he hath made' do not here apply to the drawing, but to the engraving of these pictures and vignettes, which he had previously drawn. Moreover, Tory himself betrayed his profession of engraver on wood in a charming vignette which he used as an initial in 'Champ fleury,' and which is reproduced on page 1. For we see therein, besides a compass, a square, etc., a pen and several varieties of knives used in wood-engraving; all of which justifies the remark of M. Renouvier: 'Tory possessed the rare faculty of using the graver as well as the pen.'

But, I shall be told, it avails nothing to prove vaguely that Tory dabbled in wood-engraving, if we can point to no works of his in that branch of the art,—for no one has done so hitherto. I propose to try to gratify the reader's desire, by proving that there is a way to recognize the engravings executed by Tory.

Many persons have already observed that the principal engravings in Tory's books, those which are most individual, as, for example, the Gallic Hercules (reproduced on page 141), and that of the Pot Cassé which accompanies the description of that emblem in 'Champ fleury' (reproduced on page 21) bear a mark; but this mark they dare not attribute to him, because it is constantly found upon engravings, alone or accompanied by initials, for more than a century. M. Robert-Dumesnil, in his interesting work entitled 'Le Peintre-Graveur français,' published in the course of his article on Woeiriot,[287] who himself used this same mark, a catalogue of engravings signed with the double cross,—which he calls the cross of Lorraine or of Jerusalem,—extending from 1522 to 1632. He concludes that this mark was 'frequently employed in France, as a fictitious signature, on engravings on wood, by artists whose names will probably remain forever buried in oblivion.'

To banish this phantom, which caused M. Renouvier himself to pause on the pathway of truth,[288] it is sufficient to come to close quarters with it. This is what I propose to do; but first I must thank M. Robert-Dumesnil for having satisfactorily cleared up one important point. Until his book appeared, almost all the engravings marked with the double cross had been attributed to Woeiriot; or, rather, the engravings of the latter had added to the perplexity of classifiers. By identifying Woeiriot's work, M. Robert-Dumesnil has simplified the problem considerably. Only a small number of pieces remain to be ascribed to their authors, and as to these M. Robert-Dumesnil expresses himself thus: 'None of the works executed prior to Woeiriot's birth and the beginning of his career as an artist can be by him; of the others we hasten to say that not one seems to us to have been designed or executed by him.'

Nothing could be clearer. Let us add, to close the discussion, that Woeiriot did not begin to engrave until long after Tory had ceased, as he was barely two years old when Tory died; and, furthermore, that his cross is almost always accompanied by his initials; sometimes, however, he uses the cross alone, but in that case the date prevents confusion. Take, for example, the 'Emblesmes et devises chrestiennes composées par damoiselle Georgette de Montenay,' the first edition of which was in 1571. It is impossible to attribute these engravings to Tory, who died nearly forty years earlier.

The other artists who used the cross may be divided into three classes, according to M. Robert-Dumesnil's book. First, we find the cross alone, from 1522 to 1561; secondly, after a long interval, in 1599, the cross appears accompanied by the initials I, L, B; and, lastly, a little later, two engravers on copper, named Jean Barra and Claude Rivard, signed their works with the cross. I do not include here the double cross discovered by M. Robert-Dumesnil on the printer's mark of a book dated 1632, because it is the mark of Gilles Corrozet, engraved a century earlier, as we shall see further on.

To sum up, then, there are no anonymous works bearing the cross except those produced between 1522 and 1561. The only question is whether the engravings executed between those dates, which bear the cross without initials, belong to one or to several artists.

I will, first of all, call attention to the fact that this interval embraces only forty years, and that there is no reason to attribute to several contemporaneous and anonymous artists a very peculiar mark which a single artist might have used during an even longer time. But this is not all: this interval can be reduced by several years; for the examples alleged to be subsequent to 1557, mentioned by M. Robert-Dumesnil, bear no date; they appear, it is true, in books printed after that year, but they were engraved earlier, as I shall prove in due time. Blocks are not ephemeral objects; like type, they can be used indefinitely, and their use at a certain date does not prove that they had been made within a short time. We have just cited one—Gilles Corrozet's mark—which, simply by lack of use, it was possible to reproduce in books for more than a century.

What surprises me is not that M. Robert-Dumesnil has seen engravings with the cross printed in 1561, but that he has found none of a later date, which would have allowed him to fill up the gap that he has left between the anonymous artist of the cross alone and him who accompanied it with the letters I, L, B; he might have discovered the beautiful illustration of the Missal of 1539, which is described hereafter, in books of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Indeed, we find wood engravings of the sixteenth century, bearing the double cross, in a book published at Troyes in 1850!

On the other hand, I am surprised that M. Robert-Dumesnil found no engravings with the cross, accompanied by initials, of a date much earlier than 1599, for I myself have seen some that were contemporaneous with Tory. In fact, the Bibliothèque Nationale possesses a book of Hours according to the use of Paris, printed in that city in 1548, by Jean de Brye's widow, in which all the engravings are marked with the cross and the initials L, R. It is an octavo volume, printed in gothic type, and in red and black. An interesting fact to be noted here is that these engravings are improved copies of other unsigned engravings belonging to the printer Thielman Kerver,[289] and printed in a large number of books issued by him or his widow, Iolande Bonhomme, at least as early as 1522,[290] and still to be seen in the Paris Missal, published by his son Jacques in 1559. I have seen also engravings of the artist with the initials I, L, B (cited by M. Robert-Dumesnil under the date of 1599), in a book of 1547.

These facts do not tend to contradict my proposition; they prove that Tory founded a school, and that his pupils adopted his mark (which is nothing more than his initial, or, rather, his toret, transferred from the Pot Cassé, of which it was the essential feature, to his engravings), adding thereto their initials, to distinguish themselves from the master whose ensign they hoisted, and to preserve their own individuality. I shall recur to this subject later.

The principal reason which prevented M. Renouvier from attributing to Tory, as he was naturally inclined to do, the engravings marked with the double cross alone, was the impossibility, in his judgement, of attributing them all to the same artist. 'M. Robert-Dumesnil,' he says, 'has noted a large number of books of 1522 to 1599, on the title-pages and plates of which the cross of Lorraine is found. This list might be increased, and the items should be carefully compared by whoever would try to find on them the mark of a wood-engraving establishment, or of several engravers on wood who worked for the booksellers Pierre Gaudoul, Simon de Colines, Robert Estienne, Grouleau, Gilles Corrozet, Vincent Sertenas,[291] etc.'

I have already answered the objection based upon M. Robert-Dumesnil's book, which he himself has abandoned with great pleasure, taking a deep interest in my discovery.[292] As for what M. Renouvier adds, it does not run counter to my suggestion, for I have already mentioned that, after Tory's death, his widow carried on his engraving establishment for several years, retaining the same mark. This, doubtless, is the explanation of the differences to be noticed in the works signed with the Lorraine cross; for Perrette le Hullin, not being an engraver herself, must have employed different workmen.

This leads me to answer an objection that has been made to my theory. My attention has been called to the fact that the Lorraine cross appears on works anterior to Tory,—such, for example, as the mark of Gauthier Lud, the first printer of Saint-Dié in Lorraine. I have no purpose to claim the Lorraine cross for Tory alone. He was not its inventor, nor did it die with him; but there is a distinction to be made between an emblem employed in a general way, and one employed as the special mark of an artist. Not only do I not claim for Tory the Lorraine cross surmounting a circle, which appears on the mark of the Lorraine printer, Gauthier Lud,[293] in 1507, but I exclude the Lorraine cross surmounting a large gothic G, found on the title-page of a folio Missal according to the use of the church of Toul, printed at Paris by Wolfgang Hopyl, in 1508.[294] To my mind nothing could be more natural than that the Lorraine cross should be used in Lorraine; but that does not prove that an artist at Bourges may not have adopted it as the mark of his establishment.

I mention hereafter as one of Tory's first engravings on wood the title-page of a book printed at Meaux in 1522, and I then say that the preface of that book was dated 'Meldis, anno M. D. XXI.'[295] M. Brunet makes me say,[296] I cannot imagine why, 'Metis' instead of 'Meldis'; and M. Didot, misled by that statement, says that the book in question was published at Metz,[297] which fact seems to him to explain the presence of the Lorraine cross on the title. This shows how an error may be appealed to in support of a theory.

Not only have I not exaggerated the part played by my hero, as authors are somewhat in the habit of doing,—on the contrary, I have restricted it as much as possible. Since the publication of my first edition, an attempt has been made to prove Tory to be the maker, or, at least, the decorator, of the beautiful Henri II porcelains, so-called, the subject of a recent publication of MM. Delange, father and son. M. Didot himself adopted this opinion,[298] which is based upon a vague similarity, but is completely refuted by the date of Tory's death. So far as I am concerned, appearances are of no consequence, unless they are accompanied by some substantial evidence; and that is why I have excluded from the list of Tory's works some engravings that Messrs. Renouvier and Didot do not hesitate to attribute to him because of certain similarities, but which do not bear his mark. It is that mark which has served me as a guide in identifying Tory's work. The objection is made, to be sure, that this plan requires the attribution to Tory of engravings of very dissimilar styles. Every plan has its disadvantages; but, all things considered, I prefer one that has something to stand upon to one that has nothing. Moreover, it is easy to explain the different styles of the artist of the Lorraine cross by referring to what has often taken place in the careers of other artists. In truth, how many painters have we seen change their style of painting at a certain period of their lives! But there is an even simpler way of explaining these dissimilarities in different engravings, namely, by admitting with me that the Lorraine cross was the mark of Tory's workshop, but that in that workshop there were other artists of very diverse abilities. In the same way, we see to-day a multitude of engravings signed 'Andrew,' 'Best,' 'Leloir,' to which those artists certainly never put their hands.

But let us have done with argument and come to the facts: they will prove more conclusively than any number of dissertations the truth of our statement concerning Tory; they will prove, in fact, that all the works signed by the cross alone were engraved during that artist's lifetime, or in the establishment which he founded and which his widow retained until about 1556.

To make the demonstration clearer, I will divide what I still have to say into three sections. In the first I will include all the manuscripts the decoration of which can be attributed to Tory; in the second I will describe all the engravings marked with the Lorraine cross that are known to me, arranging them in chronological order; and in the third I will mention such marks of printer-booksellers bearing the aforesaid cross, as I have been able to discover. As it is impossible for me to follow the chronological order in this last category, I have adopted the alphabetical order, which will enable one to find at once such of these marks as are mentioned in the second section.


SECTION I. MANUSCRIPTS DECORATED WITH MINIATURES BY TORY.

1. COMMENTAIRES DE CÉSAR.

2. TRIOMPHES DE PÉTRARQUE.

For a description of these two manuscripts[299] I cannot do better than transcribe in this place the interesting work of Comte Léon de Laborde. I print this work just as it was published several years ago, having no authority to modify it. But I think that I may venture to say that if it had been prepared since the publication of my book on Tory, it would contain a judgement in his favour. That seems to me to be the result of my conversations with M. de Laborde. My friend M. Jules Renouvier, whose death is so deeply to be deplored, and in whose company I examined the volume of the 'Commentaires' in the Bibliothèque Nationale, was entirely of my opinion. He spoke of the manuscript in question in these terms in a critical review of the first edition of my book on Tory, printed in the 'Revue Universelle des Arts' for September, 1857 (vol. v, no. 6, p. 511):—

'The point that we knew least about was Tory's début in the career of an artist. It was most brilliant if we agree with M. Bernard that he was the author of the miniatures found in two well-known manuscripts, the "Commentaires de César" in three volumes and the "Triomphes de Pétrarque," in which we find the signatures "G," and "Godefroy," and the dates 1519 and 1520. M. de Laborde has recently described them with all the care that they deserve, without discovering who this Godefroy was. He was no other than Geofroy Tory, says M. Bernard, and this opinion is plausible; for, if the subsequent work of the engraver on wood does not fulfil the promise of the miniaturist, the drawing is governed by identical characteristics, and the similarity of style is striking, especially when we consider the engravings that are nearest in point of time, as those of "Champ fleury," dated 1526. Considered from this point of view, Geofroy Tory is the most precocious of the artists of the Renaissance: before the masters of Fontainebleau, he introduced the stately, graceful and individualized figures, which aroused enthusiasm in the time of François I, to which Italy lent much of her style, and Germany a little of her force, but which were more thoroughly French than is generally admitted. It is well known, moreover, that these miniatures were originally, even in the "camaieu" process, heightened in effect by chatoyant tones, with subtleties of drawing which denote a hand more apt to handle the pencil than the brush, and altogether adapted to the tools of the engraver. The draughtsman loses a part of his distinction in passing from a privileged to a commonplace form of art; but so the progress of art willed.'

The work of M. Léon de Laborde follows:—

GODEFROY, PAINTER TO FRANÇOIS I.

Godefroy has left us, in four small volumes,—the first three entitled 'Commentaires de César,' the fourth 'Triomphes de Pétrarque'—the proof of a fruitful imagination, of a talent in portrait-painting no less flexible than varied, and of a superiority original with himself, and thoroughly French,—a very unusual combination of the qualities peculiar to our school prior to the formation of the school of Fontainebleau, and of the qualities—or, to speak more accurately, the defects—which that colony of foreign artists was soon to introduce in our midst.

These four volumes, after divers vicissitudes, repose at last, at the end of their journeyings and safe from the risk of destruction, the first in the British Museum at London, the second in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris, the third in the collection of H. R. H. the Duc d'Aumale, and the fourth in the Bibliothèque de l'Arsenal. I will describe first the 'Commentaires de César,' a beautiful manuscript, the three volumes of which I have had before me one by one. There are in this work three things worthy of remark, to which I shall direct the reader's attention for a brief space. First, the composition of the work; second, the painting of the decorations; and lastly, the portraits.

The author, a native of Flanders or Artois, transplanted to the Court of France, displays no overplus of wit or imagination. He supposes that King François I, in one of his excursions, or while hunting, meets Julius Cæsar, and that they converse. The subject of their dialogue is the Gallic war; it is a sort of commentary on Cæsar's Commentaries, with transparent allusions to the events of the reign of François I. It is in these allusions that we detect the author's predilection for the Belgæ,[300] with whose country he is familiar, and particularly for the city of Tournay,[301] which may well have been his native place. I do not propose to draw any inference from his hatred of the English[302]; although more violent in our northern provinces than elsewhere, that sentiment was then universal in France. It would seem, at least so far as the implements of war are concerned, that the painter who was employed to embellish the manuscript worked under the author's direction. We find in several places remarks like this: 'The tower is sufficiently described by the engines that I have caused to be drawn herein.'

For the rest, we feel that we have to do with a conscientious author; and simply by the extracts which follow, we may recognize the man who is uncertain and hesitates, the student who leaves every one in possession of his rights and who confides his doubts to the reader. On the eighth leaf of volume two he has instructed Godefroy, the painter, to reproduce an antique medallion; he writes in the margin: 'I fear that it is not that Cassius who was a conspirator in the death of Cæsar, for his name was Caius Cassius, and I find on the medallion Quintus Cassius.' As to one of the pictures of machines of war he makes this comment: 'Certain pictures of implements of war, as they are portrayed by Frère Jocunde in book x of Vitruvius.' Beside another, he says: 'I am not the inventor of the machines which follow, for I found them in a book that I secured long ago at Chastellerault, at the Lyon d'or.'

To this curious piece of information let us add another,[303] which tells us that the author of the book was in relations with an artist of Blois, a clock-maker and inventive genius: 'The two pictures that follow [two warlike machines] were taken from a book that Julian, clock-maker at Bloys, gave me.—Julian is a man of great wit and knows many things.'

A passage on folio xxii verso of the second volume seems to prove that the manuscript was written during the years 1519 and 1520: 'By the map [a map of Gaul] placed at the beginning of the translation of the first book made at Saint Germain en Laye in the month of April in the year one thousand five hundred nineteen, you will see clearly who the Belgæ are.'

After the author, it is proper to speak of the calligrapher who wrote the manuscript; but there is nothing to be said save that it is in a fair hand. The painter Godefroy deserves more consideration and careful attention. Let us not forgot that we are dealing with a perfectly well-fixed time, limited to the years 1519 and 1520; let us, at the same time, recall the great national movement in art in France from 1450 to 1500, the Italian campaigns, the arrival of artists and objects of art from Italy during the reigns of Charles VIII and Louis XII, and lastly, and above all, the sojourn in France of the two great Italian masters, Leonardo da Vinci and Andrea del Sarto, from 1515 to 1518. Born and trained amid such influences, a French painter undertakes to decorate a manuscript for King François I. What does he do to satisfy the prevailing taste, the fashion, without denying his past? He divides his talent into two parts,[304] and devotes one, the French part, to the portraits, the other, the Italian imitation, to the decorations; in both he gives proof of abundant talent. In the one case, an exact, shrewd observer, he paints faces by faithfully reproducing their individual traits; in the other, fertile, never the same, abounding in resources in the ensemble and the details of his compositions, he is the pupil of Leonardo da Vinci, with suggestions of Mantegna and the artists of the first Italian Renaissance in the proportion of the figures, in the ungracefulness of the attitudes, and in the types of the heads.

From this period, from these influences, and not from Primaticcio, who was himself subjected to them, dates the Fontainebleau school. It was adapted to the figure and the type of beauty of Diana de Poitiers; she encouraged it; but, I say again, it was formed, it was current, before the reign of the mistress of Henri II and before the painter who is its most characteristic expression. If we seek to discover what method of execution was adopted by Godefroy, we see that his portraits are charming miniatures, comparable with the finest examples that we have of French miniature-painting; as for the drawings,[305] there are some that are almost grisailles, almost coloured—a mongrel and conventional scheme, of very doubtful taste. The painter drew his whole subject with the pen, with a sureness of touch which, it must be said, has no parallel in such microscopical dimensions, especially with respect to the faces and the landscapes; then he laid in the general outline, with the brush and with sepia, in flat tones, rather lacking in life. Thus far he did not depart from the canons of art; but he added coloured costumes, suits of armour, gilded trappings, and a multitude of details which flutter about in his grisaille and depart from nature in a most extraordinary way. I have said that his figures are reminiscences of Italian works. We find among them Donatellesque forms, profiles perdus, and bold gestures that recall Mantegna, Perugino-like graceful attitudes and ways of carrying the head, and, in spite of everything, a French background, and points of resemblance to Holbein, which might be taken to signify that Godefroy had never seen Italy. Our national Renaissance had made such progress in nearly a century that our artists needed only a few drawings, a few engravings, with the impulsion given by Leonardo da Vinci and Andrea del Sarto, to enter that Italian current. It may be that our compatriot, like Holbein, was subjected to this influence from afar, at second hand, without having crossed the mountains.

First volume.[306]—The book opens with a map of Gaul, and we read on the verso of the first leaf the following passage, written within a cartouche: 'Françoys, by the grace of God, King of France, a second Cæsar, vanquisher and subduer of the Souycez [Swiss], on the last day of April, one month after the birth of his second son, in his park of Sainct-Germain-en-Laye, fell in with Julius Cæsar and questioned him shrewdly concerning the contents of the first book of the Commentaries.' In another cartouche is a passage of which we need transcribe no more than the first words: 'Cæsar, first subjugator of the Helvecez [Helvetii, Swiss], graciously made reply to him,' etc.

On the third leaf Godefroy has painted the portrait of François I, head and shoulders alone, in a medallion. He wears his usual costume and the cap, without a feather, adorned with a banner. His features and his whole countenance are idealized—they are a little stiff and sharp; the artist has sought to produce an ideal antique head. The first miniature, on the verso of the fifth leaf, bears the date 1519, with no monogram; the others—folios 9, 13, 17, 21, 23, 31, 33, 36, 43, 53, 60, and so on to the end—are signed with a G, and dated the same year. On the miniature painted on the recto of folio 53, the initial of the artist's name is traced on the trunk of a tree from which hangs a small cartouche with the words, 'Besanson, 1519.' To be sure, the corresponding passage in the text requires that the miniature in question should represent that venerable city, but a certain precision in the details, and a sort of predilection manifested in the care bestowed upon the execution, lead me to believe that the view was painted after nature, and that Godefroy was attached to that city by some bond.

I have already spoken of the special characteristics of these miniatures, and I will mention here only the one on folio 23, which represents the building of a bridge over the Saône. In the foreground we see figures reminiscent of the painter Mantegna in their activity, their vigour, and a certain almost antique grace. The artist has retained the long pointed shoes to mark the Frenchman; this is an ill-timed display of archæological learning.

The volume, a large octavo, shaped like a notebook, contains 76 leaves, including the map. It is in its original binding of red morocco, with ornaments of wreaths of fleurs-de-lis, stamped with small tools. One can see the marks of the ribbons which were used to close it and to keep the vellum from puckering. On the recto of the first leaf, below the map of Gaul, are the words: 'Bibliothecæ Christophori Justelli.' This note, while it establishes the antiquity of the manuscript, also explains its emigration to England. Christophe Justel, Councillor and Secretary to the King, died at Paris in 1649, at the age of seventy, leaving to his son, together with the taste for study, a valuable collection of books and manuscripts. Among the latter was this first volume of the 'Commentaires de César.' Henri Justel succeeded his father in the office of Secretary to the King; also in his literary studies and in the liberality with which his library and house were thrown open to scholars. The letters of all the learned men of the time bear witness to his hospitality offered to learning.

He published at Paris, in 1661, the 'Bibliotheca juris canonici veteris ex antiquis codd. mss. bibliothecæ Christophori Justelli,' in two folio volumes, and he seemed destined to pursue in peace his erudite career. But the tempest called the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes was preceded, for far-seeing Protestants, by premonitory signs which were enough for Henri Justel. He packed up his books and crossed to England, where he was appointed Librarian to the King—an office which he held until his death in 1698. The manuscript of the 'Commentaires' was probably purchased at the sale of his library by Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford. The Lord Treasurer of England (1661-1724) found consolation for the ingratitude of men in forming that magnificent collection, which retains the name of the Harleian Collection in the British Museum.

Our manuscript, however, reached that haven only with the second part of Robert Harley's books and manuscripts, in 1754.

Second Volume.[307]—The first miniature represents François I on horseback, in hunting costume, wearing the chapeau with plumes. The King is urging his horse to the right. Above his head a crowned F in gold stands out against the blue background of a shield. This was a device for disclosing his identity to those who were not struck by the likeness. In the middle distance is a huntsman, galloping in the same direction as the King and blowing his horn. Over his head floats a banderole, bearing the name 'PEROT.'[308] On a stone between the legs of the King's horse is the initial letter of the artist's name; and beneath, in a frame (separated, however, by a running dog), the date 1519. The border is of the utmost grace of design, and leaves room for a few words of the text, which begins thus:—

'Françoys, by the grace of God King of France, desiring to exercise his lusty youth by violent labour, early in the month of August in the year one thousand five hundred nineteen, went forth to course the stag in the forest of Byevre, and gave order that on that day those dogs should course which he had chosen to lead the pack, because they are surer than the others. Gaillart was of the number, as was Gallehault, and pretty Rameau. Arbault, Gerfault, and Billehault went in their company.

'The King was following the stag very close and was riding at full speed when he fell in with the chaste Diana. The King was overcome with joy, and having forgotten his quarry, he was all amazed that the vision vanished and he remained all alone in deepest thought. But soon after he saw beside him an ancient man of venerable aspect. He knew upon hearing him speak that it was his friend Julius Cæsar, whom he had met in like manner, only three months before, in his park at Sainte-Germain-en-Laye.'

Thereupon they enter into conversation upon Cæsar's campaigns.

Godefroy's plates, almost all of which are signed with a G and dated 1519, are on these leaves: 2 verso, 3 verso, 4 verso, 5 verso, 7 verso, 9 verso, 20 recto, 22 verso, 28 recto, 33 verso, 34 verso, 36 verso, 37 verso, 43 recto, 46 verso, 48 verso, 59 verso, 62 verso, 78 verso, 90 recto.

The medallions, which are copied from the antique, are admirably executed in gold on a blue ground, the models being delicately outlined in sepia. They are on leaves 6 verso, 8 recto, 9 verso, 10 verso, 11 recto and verso, 12 recto and verso, 13 recto and verso.

Warlike machines, copied from other drawings, and consequently lacking the life imparted by the representation of real objects, fill leaves 39 recto and verso, 40 recto and verso, 41 recto, 91 recto and verso, 92 recto and verso, 93 recto and verso, 94 recto.

Lastly, the portraits may be found on the leaves which I am now about to enumerate. I will add nothing to what I have said of their perfection, generally speaking, reserving my comments for the points of interest suggested by the manuscript itself. These portraits, as one might have anticipated, and as is proved by leaf 52 most directly, are copies of originals which antedate the manuscript. They are painted in miniature, surrounded by three circles of black and gold; the whole medallion is fifty-two millimeters in diameter, the miniature forty.

Leaf 25 verso: Quintus Pedius. Such is the title given by the scribe; but a different hand has written in the margin, in cursive characters: 'Le grand maistre de Boissy, aged 41 years.' I am inclined to see in these marginal annotations the hand of the author rather than that of the artist. This portrait is three-quarters full, turned to the left, with a cap on its head, the hair in a net, a collar of some order around the neck, face tranquil, expression shrewd.

Leaf 35 recto: Le Fiable Divitiacus Dautun. ('Admiral de Boissy, seigneur de Bonivet, aged 34 years.') Three-quarters full, turned to the right.

Leaf 36: Quintus Titurius Sabinus. ('Odet de Foues, Sieur de Lautrec, aged 41 years.') Three-quarters full, turned to the left.

Leaf 42: Iccius. ('Le mareschal de Chabanes, seigneur de la Palice, aged 57 years.') Three-quarters full, turned to the left, expression slightly haughty.

Leaf 52: Lucius Aruculeius Cotta. ('Anne de Montmorency, aged 22 years, afterwards connestable de France.')

Leaf 73: Publius Sextius Baculus. ('Le mareschal de Fleuranges, son of Robert de la Marche, first seigneur de Sedan, aged 24 years.') Three-quarters full, turned to the left.

Leaf 76 verso: Publius Crassus. ('Le sieur de Tournon who was killed at the battle of Pavia, aged 36 years.') Three-quarters full, turned to the left.

On the verso of leaf 89 we find these words: 'Thus Cæsar made an end of speaking and forthwith disappeared. The radiant Diana, who knew the paths of the forest of Bièvre, and of all time was privy to and understood the laws of the chase, remounted, and by so straight a course led the King, who had lost the dogs, that within a few hours, near the forest of Fontainebleau, he saw them hunting better than before. And he was the first of all at the death of the stag, but he had with him only pretty Arbault and the beautiful Greffière, for Diana and Aurora had left him and had gone their ways.'

The two dogs are represented in the miniature; they are attacking the stag, while the King makes ready to stab him.

This volume, containing 98 leaves, is bound in black morocco, which has grown rusty; it bears these words stamped in the leather: 'Tomus Secundus.' It is catalogued in the Supplément Français, as no. 1328. Its history, as told among the habitués of the Bibliothèque Nationale, is as follows: M. Van-Praët appeared at the Conservatoire one day with an exultant air; he had this fascinating manuscript in his hand, and announced that he had purchased it for the Bibliothèque for 1200 francs. He expected to gladden the hearts of his comrades, to call forth expressions of gratitude; far from it; on the contrary, they found fault both with that method of purchasing, without authority, and with the price that he had paid. M. Van-Praët made haste to banish the scruples of his inflexible directors, and to put an end to the unpleasant discussion that was beginning, by declaring that the purchase had been made for himself and not for the Bibliothèque; then, when the meeting was adjourned, he hastened to his friends the brothers Debure, and, with a bursting heart, told them of his misadventure. They appreciated Van-Praët's regrets too thoroughly to try to calm them; but they knew also that he was not rich enough to keep the manuscript, and they bought for their own little collection, at the price that he had paid, that charming product of French art, still bleeding from the reception that it had met with at the hands of the great so-called 'national' collection. Years and years had passed since this strange performance, when, in 1852, a small package was brought to M. Naudet, with the information that M. Debure, by his last will, had ordered that this manuscript, embellished with paintings by Godefroy, which had been purchased for the Bibliothèque and spurned by it, should be restored to it as its property.

One does not know which to admire more in this testamentary disposition of the famous bookseller—the keenness of his irony or the nobility of his act. Without exerting itself overmuch to decide that point the Conservatoire of the Bibliothèque Impériale welcomed the prodigal child and deposited it in the Supplément Français. But, with a lingering remnant of spite, its light was hidden under the bushel of 'la réserve'; which is one way of preventing people from having access to it with the facility which assists investigations, under the protection of that liberality which is one of our claims to honour among foreign nations, and which the government of the Bibliothèque should have preserved, even at the price of the inconvenience that it might have caused.

Third Volume.[309]—Original binding, with the title: 'Cæsaris liber tertius.' The text begins thus:—

'On the twenty-seventh day of February, one thousand five hundred XX, the King being in his park of Congnac, seeing that the splendour of his entry was like to be marred by the inclemency of the weather, took shelter in the house of the labyrinth, having with him monsieur l'Admiral and the young and discreet Sieur de la Rochepot. At the entrance to the lower room he feels and hears so violent a wind that it seems to him "quam spiritu vehementi" the lofty trees fall to the earth as on Friday the ninth day of March one thousand VᶜᶜXX in divers places about Paris.'

The result of all this uproar is the appearance of Julius Cæsar. François I questions him as to what he did after pacifying Gaul. Whereupon Cæsar replies:—

'I tell you that, after divers victories won by me, so high an opinion of me and so great renown were spread among the barbarian peoples, that ambassadors were sent to me by the nations beyond the Rhine, who in the name of their cities promised to give hostages to me and to obey my commands. But, for that I was in haste to go thence, I bade them return to me in the summer season. Thereafter I led my legions to winter quarters in the land of Touraine and in the duchy of Madame your mother. And that done, I went hence to Italy.'

This volume is supplied with two maps: one, of Aquitaine, is at the beginning, the other, of Bretagne, at the end of the volume, which contains also no less than twelve large miniatures. The King, in hunting costume, figures again and again in them. The execution is as careful, and the paintings of the same type, as in the two earlier volumes. All the miniatures and the maps are signed with a G, and some of them are dated 1520. On folio 52, the painter's name is written in full: 'Godefroy.'

The former owner of this fine manuscript writes to me: 'I cannot furnish you with any interesting information concerning the manuscript of the "Commentaires de César." It was given to me, only the slightest importance being attached to the gift, by a resident of Tours, who owned no books, and who had kept it for forty years in his closet. To tell you how it came into my hands would be the more difficult because that person has long been dead. The volume was delivered to me in very bad condition. I employed Duru to repair the back and to rebind it, leaving intact the covers, which were of the original sixteenth-century binding. A small engraving, which resembled niello-work, but was recognized as the work of Étienne de Laulne, an engraver of Orléans, was at the beginning of the book.'

Obliged, in 1850, by circumstances which it is needless to detail, although they were to his honour, to part with this precious volume, its owner sent it to Paris, to M. Techener, for sale on commission. He wanted 2000 francs for it, and first of all the bookseller offered it to the Bibliothèque Nationale. The Conservatoire of that great collection could not find that amount in its annual credit of 80,000 francs, and it renewed the old joke which had temporarily banished the second volume. Unfortunately one does not meet every day, to repair its errors, generous booksellers like M. Debure, or those who have it in their power to be as generous as he; and M. Techener, who was richer than our rich collection of books for the purpose of purchasing this manuscript, was not rich enough to present it to that collection. He advertised it in the 'Bulletin du Bibliophile' for 1850 (no. 1222), for 3000 francs. During a whole year, artists and curious folk (I was among the latter) were at liberty to examine it at leisure and to lament the advent of English dealers who threatened every moment to take it from us. At last, Monseigneur le Duc d'Aumale added it to his treasures of printed books and manuscripts, and, although in England, one may say now that it belongs to France. Indeed, it may be that M. Debure's example will be followed some day, and that this third volume will come to join the second on the shelves of our magnificent department of manuscripts, awaiting the time when the fortunate result of negotiations with the British Museum shall permit the consummation of the work by means of exchanges.[310]


Godefroy's facile talent could not fail to be fruitful of results, and some of his works may be found in several collections. The Bibliothèque de l'Arsenal owns one of them, the 'Triomphes de Pétrarque,' which seems, in view of the exuberance of the subjects, the exaggeration of the artist's defects, and the laxness of execution, to be of later date than the 'Commentaires de César'; and, whether because the artist had visited Italy, or because, the better to interpret the poet's ideas, he sought inspiration in Italian works, it is certain that he is less French in the illustrations of this manuscript than in the others. He is more perfect, too, in the art of composition, his distances are more accurately measured, his groups are more in harmony with one another; in a word, he displays an inspiration, or resources, altogether new: such, for example, as the device of cutting off the figures in the foreground at the waist, by means of rising ground, whereby he is able to give them strongly proportioned frames without filling up his whole picture.

I will describe this manuscript briefly. It is a small octavo volume of ten leaves (not including the covers), written on fine parchment. It is about 10 centimetres in height by 8 in width. It was rebound in the eighteenth century, in lemon-colored morocco.

'Here followeth the first of the six triumphs of the most illustrious and venerable poet Messire Francisque Petrarque: the which is the triumph of Love and containeth four chapters.'

Chapter I. A miniature painted on pages 2 and 3, which face each other. It represents the triumph of Love, with a deal of disorder and somewhat licentious details. The G can be seen in the foreground, in the centre of the picture, on the ground.

Chapter II. The miniature has been removed.

Chapter III. The miniature occupies the verso of the title of the chapter. In the foreground are amorous couples discoursing together, some seated, some walking about. The men wear caps with long feathers, as in the bas-reliefs of the hôtel de Bourgtheroude. The architectural arrangement in the background is charming. Beside a triumphal arch rises the tower of love. Flames are darting from all its windows, and meanwhile a long procession of women rushes through the door, followed by a Cupid with bandaged eyes. The artist has painted his initial on the tower.