Arts and Crafts in the Middle Ages - Part 17
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Part 17

[Ill.u.s.tration: MISERERE STALL; AN ARTISAN AT WORK]

The real test of a fine grotesque--a genuine Gothic monster--is, that he shall, in spite of his monstrosity, retain a certain anatomical consistency: it must be conceivable that the animal organism could have developed along these lines. In the thirteenth century, this is always possible; but in much later times, and in the Renaissance, the grotesques simply became comic and degraded, and lacking in humour: in a later chapter this idea will be developed further.

The art of the choir stalls and miserere seats was a natural ebullition of the humourous instinct, which had so little opportunity for exploiting itself in monastic seclusion. The joke was hidden away, under the seat, out of sight of visitors, or laymen: inconspicuous, but furtively entertaining. There was no self-consciousness in its elaboration, it was often executed for pure love of fun and whittling; and for that very reason embodies all the most attractive qualities of its art. There was no covert intention to produce a genre history of contemporary life and manners, as has sometimes been claimed. These things were accidentally introduced in the work, but the carvers had no idea of ministering to this or any other educational theory.

Like all light-hearted expression of personality, the miserere stalls have proved of inestimable worth to the world of art, as a record of human skill and genial mirth.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MISERERE STALL, ELY: NOAH AND THE DOVE]

A good many of the vices of the times were portrayed on the miserere seats. The "backbiter" is frequently seen, in most unlovely form, and two persons gossiping with an "unseen witness" in the shape of an avenging friend, looking on and waiting for his opportunity to strike! Gluttons and misers are always accompanied by familiar devils, who prod and goad them into such sin as shall make them their prey at the last. Among favourite subjects on miserere seats is the "alewife." No wonder ale drinking proved so large a factor in the jokes of the fraternity, for the rate at which it was consumed, in this age when it took the place of both tea and coffee, was enormous. The inmates of St. Cross Hospital, Winchester, who were alluded to as "impotents," received daily one gallon of beer each, with two extra quarts on holidays! If this were the allowance of pensioners, what must have been the proportion among the well-to-do?

In 1558 there is a record of a dishonest beer seller who gave only a pint for a penny drink, instead of the customary quart! The subject of the alewife who had cheated her customers, being dragged to h.e.l.l by demons, is often treated by the carvers with much relish, in the sacred precincts of the church choir!

[Ill.u.s.tration: MISERERE STALL; THE FATE OF THE ALE-WIFE]

At Ludlow there is a relief which shows the unlucky lady carried on the back of a demon, hanging with her head upside down, while a smiling "recording imp" is making notes in a scroll concerning her!

In one of the Chester Mysteries, the Ale Wife is made to confess her own shortcomings:

"Some time I was a taverner, A gentle gossip and a tapster, Of wine and ale a trusty brewer, Which woe hath me wrought.

Of cans I kept no true measure, My cups I sold at my pleasure, Deceiving many a creature, Though my ale were nought!"

There is a curious miserere in Holderness representing a nun between two hares: she is looking out with a smile, and winking!

At Ripon the stalls show Jonah being thrown to the whale, and the same Jonah being subsequently relinquished by the sea monster. The whale is represented by a large bland smiling head, with gaping jaws, occurring in the midst of the water, and Jonah takes the usual "header" familiar in mediaeval art, wherever this episode is rendered.

A popular treatment of the stall was the foliate mask; stems issuing from the mouth of the mask and developing into leaves and vines.

This is an entirely foolish and unlovely design: in most cases it is quite lacking in real humour, and makes one think more of the senseless Roman grotesques and those of the Renaissance. The mediaeval quaintness is missing.

At Beverly a woman is represented beating a man, while a dog is helping himself out of the soup cauldron. The misereres at Beverly date from about 1520.

Animals as musicians, too, were often introduced,--pigs playing on viols, or pipes, an a.s.s performing on the harp, and similar eccentricities may be found in numerous places, while Reynard the Fox in all his forms abounds.

The choir stalls at Lincoln exhibit beautiful carving and design: they date from the fourteenth century, and were given by the treasurer, John de Welburne. There are many delightful miserere seats, many of the selections in this case being from the legend of Reynard the Fox.

Abbot Islip of Westminster was a great personality, influencing his times and the place where his genius expressed itself. He was very constant and thorough in repairing and restoring at the Abbey, and under his direction much fine painting and illuminating were accomplished. The special periods of artistic activity in most of the cathedrals may be traced to the personal influence of some cultured ecclesiastic.

A very beautiful specimen of English carving is the curious oak chest at York Cathedral, on which St. George fighting the dragon is well rendered. However, the termination of the story differs from that usually a.s.sociated with this legend, for the lady leads off the subdued dragon in a leash, and the very abject crawl of the creature is depicted with much humour.

Mediaeval ivory carving practically commenced with the fourth century; in speaking of the tools employed, it is safe to say that they corresponded to those used by sculptors in wood. It is generally believed by authorities that there was some method by which ivory could be taken from the whole rounded surface of the tusk, and then, by soaking, or other treatment, rendered sufficiently malleable to be bent out into a large flat sheet: for some of the large mediaeval ivories are much wider than the diameter of any known possible tusk.

There are recipes in the early treatises which tell how to soften the ivory that it may be more easily sculptured: in the Mappae Clavicula, in the twelfth century, directions are given for preparing a bath in which to steep ivory, in order to make it soft. In the Sloane MS. occurs another recipe for the same purpose.

Ahab's "ivory house which he made" must have been either covered with a very thin veneer, or else the ivory was used as inlay, which was often the case, in connection with ebony. Ezekiel alludes to this combination. Ivory and gold were used by the Greeks in their famous Chryselephantine statues, in which cases thin plates of ivory formed the face, hands, and exposed parts, the rest being overlaid with gold, This art originated with the brothers Dip?nus and Scillis, about 570 B. C., in Crete.

"In sculpturing ivory," says Theophilus, "first form a tablet of the magnitude you may wish, and superposing chalk, portray with a lead the figures according to your pleasure, and with a pointed instrument mark the lines that they may appear: then carve the grounds as deeply as you wish with different instruments, and sculp the figures or other things you please, according to your invention and skill." He tells how to make a knife handle with open work carvings, through which a gold ground is visible: and extremely handsome would such a knife be when completed, according to Theophilus'

directions. He also tells how to redden ivory. "There is likewise an herb called 'rubrica,' the root of which is long, slender, and of a red colour; this being dug up is dried in the sun and is pounded in a mortar with the pestle, and so being sc.r.a.ped into a pot, and a lye poured over it, is then cooked. In this, when it has well boiled, the bone of the elephant or fish or stag, being placed, is made red."

Mediaeval chessmen were made in ivory: very likely the need for a red stain was felt chiefly for such pieces.

The celebrated Consular Diptychs date from the fourth century onwards.

It was the custom for Consuls to present to senators and other officials these little folding ivory tablets, and the adornment of Diptychs was one of the chief functions of the ivory worker.

Some of them were quite ambitious in size; in the British Museum is a Diptych measuring over sixteen inches by five: the tusk from which this was made must have been almost unique in size. It is a Byzantine work, and has the figure of an angel carved upon it.

Gregory the Great sent a gift of ivory to Theodolinda, Queen of the Lombards, in 600. This is decorated with three figures, and is a most interesting diptych.

The earliest diptych, however, is of the year 406, known as the Diptych of Probus, on which may be seen a bas-relief portrait of Emperor Honorius. On the Diptych of Philoxenus is a Greek verse signifying, "I, Philoxenus, being Consul, offer this present to the wise Senate." An interesting diptych, sixteen inches by six, is inscribed, "Flavius Strategius Apius, ill.u.s.trious man, count of the most fervent servants, and consul in ordinary." This consul was invested in 539; the work was made in Rome, but it is the property of the Cathedral of Orviedo in Spain, where it is regarded as a priceless treasure.

Claudian, in the fourth century, alludes to diptychs, speaking of "huge tusks cut with steel into tablets and gleaming with gold, engraved with the ill.u.s.trious name of the Consul, circulated among great and small, and the great wonder of the Indies, the elephant, wanders about in tuskless shame!" In Magaster, a city which according to Marco Polo, was governed by "four old men," they sold "vast quant.i.ties of elephants' teeth."

Raba.n.u.s, a follower of Alcuin, born in 776, was the author of an interesting encyclopaedia, rejoicing in the comprehensive t.i.tle, "On the Universe." This work is in twenty-two books, which are supposed to cover all possible subjects upon which a reader might be curious.... The seventeenth book is on "the dust and soil of the earth," under which uninviting head he includes all kinds of stones, common and precious; salt, flint, sand, lime, jet, asbestos, and the Persian moonstone, of whose brightness he claims that it "waxes and wanes with the moon." Later he devotes some s.p.a.ce to pearls, crystals, and gla.s.s. Metals follow, and marbles and _ivory_, though why the latter should be cla.s.sed among minerals we shall never understand.

[Ill.u.s.tration: IVORY TABERNACLE, RAVENNA]

The Roman diptychs were often used as after-dinner gifts to distinguished guests. They were presented on various occasions.

In the Epistles of Symmachus, the writer says: "To my Lord and Prince I sent a diptych edged with gold. I presented other friends also with these ivory note books."

While elephant's tusks provided ivory for the southern races, the more northern peoples used the walrus and narwhale tusks. In Germany this was often the case. The fabulous unicorn's horn, which is so often alluded to in early literature, was undoubtedly from the narwhale, although its possessor always supposed that he had secured the more remarkable horn which was said to decorate the unicorn.

Triptychs followed diptychs in natural sequence. These, in the Middle Ages, were usually of a devotional character, although sometimes secular subjects occur. Letters were sometimes written on ivory tablets, which were supposed to be again used in forwarding a reply.

St. Augustine apologizes for writing on parchment, explaining, "My ivory tablets I sent with letters to your uncle; if you have any of my tablets, please send them in case of similar emergencies."

Tablets fitted with wax linings were used also in schools, as children now use slates.

Ivory diptychs were fashionable gifts and keepsakes in the later Roman imperial days. They took the place which had been occupied in earlier days by illuminated books, such as were produced by Lala of Cyzicus, of whom mention will be made in connection with book illuminators.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE NATIVITY; IVORY CARVING]

After the triptychs came sets of five leaves, hinged together; sometimes these were arranged in groups of four around a central plaque. Often they were intended to be used as book covers.

Occasionally the five leaves were made up of cla.s.sical ivories which had been altered in such a way that they now had Christian significance. The beautiful diptych in the Bargello, representing Adam in the Earthly Paradise, may easily have been originally intended for Orpheus, especially since Eve is absent! The treatment is rather cla.s.sical, and was probably adapted to its later name.

Some diptychs which were used afterwards for ecclesiastical purposes, show signs of having had the Consular inscription erased, and the wax removed, while Christian sentiments were written or incised within the book itself. Parts of the service were also occasionally transcribed on diptychs. In Milan the Rites contain these pa.s.sages: "The lesson ended, a scholar, vested in a surplice, takes the ivory tablets from the altar or ambo, and ascends the pulpit;" and in another place a similar allusion occurs: "When the Deacon chants the Alleluia, the key bearer for the week hands the ivory tablets to him at the exit of the choir."

Anastatius, in his Life of Pope Agatho, tells of a form of posthumous excommunication which was sometimes practised: "They took away from the diptychs... wherever it could be done, the names and figures of these patriarchs, Cyrus, Sergius, Paul, Pyrrhus, and Peter, through whom error had been brought among the orthodox."

Among ivory carvings in Carlovingian times may be cited a casket with ornamental colonettes sent by Eginhard to his son. In 823, Louis le Debonaire owned a statuette, a diptych, and a coffer, while in 845 the Archbishop of Rheims placed an order for ivory book covers, for the works of St. Jerome, a Lectionary, and other works.

The largest and best known ivory carving of the middle ages is the throne of Maximian, Archbishop of Ravenna. This entire chair, with an arched back and arms, is composed of ivory in intricately carved plaques. It is considerably over three feet in height, and is a superb example of the best art of the sixth century. Photographs and reproductions of it may be seen in most works dealing with this subject. Scenes from Scripture are set all over it, divided by charming meanders of deeply cut vine motives. Some authorities consider the figures inferior to the other decorations: of course in any delineation of the human form, the archaic element is more keenly felt than when it appears in foliate forms or conventional patterns. Diptychs being often taken in considerable numbers and set into large works of ivory, has led some authorities to suppose that the Ravenna throne was made of such a collection; but this is contradicted by Pa.s.seri in 1759, who alludes to the panels in the following terms: "They might readily be taken by the ignorant for diptychs.... This they are not, for they cannot be taken from the consular diptychs which had their own ornamentation, referring to the consultate and the insignia, differing from the sculpture destined for other purposes. Hence they are obviously mistaken who count certain tablets as diptychs which have no ascription to any consul, but represent the Muses, Bacchantes, or G.o.ds. These seem to me to have been book covers." Probably the selected form of an upright tablet for the majority of ivory carvings is based on economic principles: the best use of the most surface from any square block of material is to cut it in thin slices. In their architecture the southern mediaeval builders so treated stone, building a substructure of brick and laying a slab or veneer of the more costly material on its surface: with ivory this same principle was followed, and the shape of the tusk, being long and narrow, naturally determined the form of the resulting tablets.

The Throne of Ivan III. in Moscow and that of St. Peter in Rome are also magnificent monuments of this art. Ivory caskets were the chief manifestation of taste in that medium, during the period of transition from the eighth century until the revival of Byzantine skill in the tenth century. This form of sculpture was at its best at a time when stone sculpture was on the decline.

There is a fascinating book cover in Ravenna which is a good example of sixth century work of various kinds. In the centre, Christ is seen, enthroned under a kind of palmetto canopy; above him, on a long panel, are two flying angels displaying a cross set in a wreath; at either end stand little squat figures, with b.a.l.l.s and crosses in their hands. Scenes from the miracles of Our Lord occupy the two side panels, which are subdivided so that there are four scenes in all; they are so quaint as to be really grotesque, but have a certain blunt charm which is enhanced by the creamy lumpiness of the material in which they are rendered. The healing of the blind, raising of the dead, and the command to the man by the pool to take up his bed and walk, are accurately represented; the bed in this instance is a form of couch with a wooden frame and mattress, the carrying of which would necessitate an unusual amount of strength on the part of even a strong, well man. One of the most nave of these panels of the miracles is the curing of "one possessed:" the boy is tied with cords by the wrists and ankles, while, at the touch of the Master, a little demon is seen issuing from the top of the head of the sufferer, waving its arms proudly to celebrate its freedom! Underneath is a small scene of the three Children in the Fiery Furnace; they look as if they were presenting a vaudeville turn, being spirited in action, and very dramatic.

Below all, is a masterly panel of Jonah and the whale,--an old favourite, frequently appearing in mediaeval art. The whale, positively smiling and sportive, eagerly awaits his prey at the right. Jonah is making a graceful dive from the ship, apparently with an effort to land in the very jaws of the whale. At the opposite side, the whale, having coughed up his victim, looks disappointed, while Jonah, in an att.i.tude of la.s.situde suggestive of sea-sickness, reclines on a bank; an angel, with one finger lifted as if in reproach, is hurrying towards him.

An ingenuous ivory carving of the ninth century in Carlovingian style is a book cover on which is depicted the finding of St. Gall, by tame bears in the wilderness. These bears, walking decorously on their hind legs, are figured as carrying bread to the hungry saint: one holds a long French loaf of a familiar pattern, and the other a breakfast roll!

Bernward of Hildesheim had a branch for ivory carving in his celebrated academy, to which allusion has been made.

Ivory drinking horns were among the most beautiful and ornate examples of secular ivories. They were called Oliphants, because the tusks of elephants were chiefly used in their manufacture. In 1515 the Earl of Ormonde leaves in his will "a little white horn of ivory garnished at both ends with gold," and in St. Paul's in the thirteenth century, there is mention of "a great horn of ivory engraved with beasts and birds." The Horn of Ulphas at York is an example of the great drinking horns from which the Saxons and Danes, in early days, drank in token of transfer of lands; as we are told by an old chronicler, "When he gave the horn that was to convey his estate, he filled it with wine, and went on his knees before the altar...

so that he drank it off in testimony that thereby he gave them his lands." This horn was given by Ulphas to the Cathedral with certain lands, a little before the Conquest, and placed by him on the altar.

Interesting ivories are often the pastoral staves carried by bishops. That of Otho Bishop of Hildesheim in 1260 is inscribed in the various parts: "Persuade by the lower part; rule by the middle; and correct by the point." These were apparently the symbolic functions of the crozier. The French Gothic ivory croziers are perhaps more beautiful than others, the little figures standing in the carved volutes being especially delicate and graceful.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PASTORAL STAFF; IVORY, GERMAN, 12TH CENTURY]