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ANECDOTES OF EMINENT PAINTERS IN SPAIN, &c.

VOL. I.

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ANECDOTES OF EMINENT PAINTERS IN SPAIN, During the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries; WITH CURSORY REMARKS UPON THE PRESENT STATE OF ARTS IN THAT KINGDOM.

BY RICHARD CUMBERLAND.

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. I.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR J. WALTER, CHARING-CROSS. M.DCC.LXXXII.

[]ANECDOTES OF EMINENT PAINTERS IN SPAIN, &c.

SPAIN has given birth to ſo many eminent Painters, of whom there is no memorial in the reſt of Europe, and abounds with ſo many admirable examples of their art, diſperſed in churches, convents and palaces, where the curioſity of modern travellers rarely carries them, that I perſuade [2] myſelf it will not be unacceptable to the public to have ſome account of men and works ſo little known and yet ſo highly worthy to be recorded. I am not aware that this has been profeſſedly attempted by any Spaniſh writer, except by Palomino; who in an elaborate treatiſe on the Art of Painting, in two folio volumes, has inſerted the lives of two hundred and thirty-three Painters and Sculptors, who floriſhed in Spain from the time of Ferdinand the Catholic to the concluſion of the reign of Philip the Fourth; of theſe materials I have principally availed myſelf in the following ſheets, but not without due attention to other authorities, that interpoſe accounts [3] differing from his, or extend to particulars, which he has failed to enumerate. He is ſaid to have written with a competent knowledge of his ſubject, as an art, of which he was himſelf a profeſſor; and in rules for the practice of painting he is very diffuſive: If he had been more communicative or entertaining in thoſe matters, for which I chiefly conſulted him, I might have needed leſs apology for the preſent publication: Many particulars however have been furniſhed to me from tradition, which help out the ſterility and dryneſs of his catalogue; and I muſt not omit to acknowledge the aſſiſtance I drew from the treatiſe of Pacheco, a book now become [2] [...] [3] [...] [4] extremely rare and hardly to be obtained. I know there was an Engliſh abridgement of Palomino's Painters publiſhed in the year 1739, but the original is in very few hands; ſo that, unleſs ſome Spaniſh biographer ſhall ſpeedily be found with public ſpirit to engage in the taſk of reſcuing the fame of his ingenious countrymen from approaching extinction, their hiſtories at leaſt will ſoon be loſt, whatever may be the fate of their works. The world is in poſſeſſion of many memoirs of the artiſts of Italy, France and Flanders; and the Painters, who diſtinguiſhed themſelves in England, have by happy fortune found a biographer, whoſe entertaining talents [5] will ſecure to them a reception with poſterity; whilſt of all the Painters, to whoſe memory I have dedicated this ſlight attempt, ſcarce a name is heard without the limits of Spain, except thoſe of Velaſquez, Murillo, and Ribeira: The paintings of the latter it is true are very generally known, many excellent performances of his being diſperſed through Europe: Some reſpectable remains of Velaſquez are to be found in Italy, but the principal exertions of his pencil were reſerved for his own country, and the Sovereign, who entertained him in his ſervice; theſe, we may naturally ſuppoſe, can never be extracted: And as for Murillo, although [6] ſome pieces of his have in time paſt been extracted from Seville, yet I think I may venture to ſay, that not many of them, which paſs under his name, are legitimate; and in a leſs proportion can we find amongſt ſuch, as are true pictures, any of ſo capital a rank, as to impart a competent idea of his extraordinary merit.

The candid reader will obſerve, that I do not profeſs to give the Lives of the Painters, who are treated of in this catalogue, for which my materials do not ſuffice; nor ſhall I hazard many criticiſms upon their reſpective works, for which more ſcience would be requiſite than I can pretend to; ſtill I hope there will be ſound ſufficient [7] novelty to amuſe ſuch of my readers, as can endure to hear of paintings, as they ſtrike the feelings of an ordinary obſerver, without preſuming to diſſect them in the learned jargon of a Virtuoſo: It will be remembered therefore that I offer nothing more to the public than Anecdotes of the Eminent Painters, who have floriſhed in Spain during the two centuries laſt paſt; and in this deſcription I include all ſuch illuſtrious foreigners, as have reſorted to Spain for the diſplay of their talents under protection of the Princes or Nobles of that kingdom; theſe are a pretty numerous claſs, and in treating of them, I ſhall ſtudy to avoid repeating [8] what may have been better told by others; but even of theſe perhaps ſome local anecdotes will occur, which may at leaſt be ſupplementary to the accounts already in exiſtence. My reſidence in Spain, and ſome advantages incident to my peculiar ſituation there, gave me repeated acceſs to every thing I wiſhed to ſee; almoſt every religious foundation throughout the kingdom contains a magazine of art; in reſorting to theſe nothing will be found, of which a ſtranger can complain, unleſs of the gloomineſs of ſome of the edifices, and the unfavourable lights, in which many capital paintings are diſpoſed: In private houſes it is not unuſual to [9] diſcover very fine pictures in neglect and decay; thrown aſide amongſt the rubbiſh of caſt-off furniture; whether it be, that the poſſeſſor has no knowledge of their excellence, or thinks it below his notice to attend to their preſervation; but how much ſoever the Spaniards have declined from their former taſte and paſſion for the elegant arts, I am perſuaded they have in no degree fallen off from their national character for generoſity, which is ſtill ſo prevalent amongſt them, that a ſtranger, who is intereſtedly diſpoſed to avail himſelf of their munificence, may in a great meaſure obtain whatever is the object of his praiſe and admiration: [10] As for the royal collections at Madrid, the Eſcorial and elſewhere, he will meet a condeſcenſion ſo accommodated to his curioſity, that the one is as little likely to be exhauſted as the other; the facility of acceſs to every palace in poſſeſſion of His Catholic Majeſty is only to be equalled by the gratification it produces.

THE Arts, which revived in Italy during the 14th century, did not reach Spain till the time of Ferdinand the Catholic; Antonio Del Rincon, a native of Guadalaxara, [11] may be conſidered as the father of the Spaniſh ſchool; he ſtudied in Rome, and, returning to his native country, was taken into the ſervice of Ferdinand, who beſtowed on him the Order of Santiago, and made him Groom of his Chamber. There are two portraits of Ferdinand and Iſabella, painted by him, ſtill to be ſeen at Toledo, in the church of San Juan de los Reyes, and ſeveral pictures by his hand periſhed in the fire, that deſtroyed the palace of the Pardo in the year 1608. This artiſt died in the year 1500.

The unhappy cataſtrophe of Torrigiano, the Florentine, followed in the year 1522: After having enriched the cities of Andaluſia [12] with ſeveral pieces of ſculpture, not unworthy the diſciple and rival of Michael Angelo; he was condemned to death by the Inquiſition, and expired in the priſon of Seville under the horrors of an approaching execution: The ſtory is as follows; Torrigiano had undertaken to carve a Madona and child of the natural ſize, at the order of a certain Spaniſh Grandee; it was to be made after the model of one, which he had already executed; and promiſe was given him of a reward proportioned to the merit of his work. His employer was one of the firſt Grandees of Spain, and Torrigiano, who conceived highly of his generoſity, and well knew what [13] his own talents could perform, was determined to outdo his former work; he had paſſed great part of his life in travelling from kingdom to kingdom in ſearch of employment, and, flattering himſelf with the hope, that he had now at laſt found a reſting-place after all his labours, the ingenious artiſt with much pains and application compleated the work, and preſented to his employer a matchleſs piece of ſculpture, the utmoſt effort of his art; the Grandee ſurveyed the ſtriking performance with great delight and reverence; applauded Torrigiano to the ſkies; and, impatient to poſſeſs himſelf of the enchanting idol, forthwith ſent to demand it; [14] at the ſame time, to ſet off his generoſity with a better diſplay, he loaded two lacqueys with the money, that was to defray the purchaſe; the bulk at leaſt was promiſing, but when Torrigiano turned out the bags, and found the ſpecie nothing better than a parcel of braſs maravedi, amounting only to the paltry ſum of thirty ducats, vexation at this ſudden diſappointment of his hopes, and juſt reſentment for what he conſidered as an inſult to his merit, ſo tranſported him, that, ſnatching up his mallet in a rage, and not regarding the perfection, or (what to him was of more fatal conſequence) the ſacred character of the image he had made; he [15] broke it ſuddenly in pieces, and diſmiſſed the lacqueys with their load of farthings to tell the tale: They executed their errand too well. The Grandee in his turn fired with ſhame, vexation and revenge, and aſſuming, or perhaps conceiving, horror for the ſacrilegious nature of the act, preſented himſelf before the Court of Inquiſition, and impeached the unhappy artiſt at that terrible tribunal; it was in vain that poor Torrigiano urged the right of an author over his own creation; Reaſon pleaded on his ſide, but Superſtition ſate in judgement; the decree was death with torture. The Holy Office loſt its victim; for Torrigiano expired under the horrors, [16] not under the hands of the executioner: That he was of a fierce impatient ſpirit we may well believe from what is related of his maiming the great Michael Angelo by a violent blow on the ſace; the heretical reader perhaps will think this blow a more inexcuſable, offence, than that, for which he ſuffered; and an enthuſiaſt in the arts will ſcarce lament the puniſhment, which by a juſt tranſition fell upon him; for my part, I lament both his offence and his puniſhment; the man, who could be ſo frantic with paſſion, as in the perſon of Michael Angelo to deface one of the divineſt works of heaven, might eaſily be tempted to demoliſh his [17] own; and it has been generally obſerved, that hearts, ſo prone to anger, have on occaſion been as ſuſceptible of apprehenſion and fear; it is to be ſuppoſed, that Torrigiano's caſe was not better in the eyes of the Holy Office for his having been reſident in England and employed by King Henry the Eighth: Whether they conſidered him as tinctured with the hereſy of that Royal apoſtate does not appear; I am inclined to believe he more reſembled Henry in temper than in opinion: At leaſt, if we are to credit his aſſault on Michael Angelo and try him on that action; ſince the days of Diomed few mortals ever launched a more impious blow.

[18] The arts, being thus tranſplanted from Italy into Spain, found a ready naturalization in a country, then abounding with genius: The province of Andaluſia took the lead on this occaſion, and has in all times been productive of extraordinary talents; it was the cradle of moſt of the Spaniſh painters; it's natives continue to be remarked for quick and volatile parts, differing much in manners and diſpoſition from the Caſtilians. Certain it is that Spain has many local qualifications for becoming a nurſery of Painters, which other countries are in want oſ: It enjoys a clear and vivid ſky, with a dry and healthy air, favourable to the preſervation if not [19] to the production of works of art; the human countenance there is in general of a grave hiſtorical caſt; the intermixture of the Jewiſh and Mooriſh tribes have marked the lower claſſes with a ſtrong peculiarity of features; the forms of the children, till they attain the age of eight or ten, are good, and oftentimes their faces beautiful; the eyes of the women black and piercing, and, as they uſe much action when they converſe, and are univerſally addicted to the Mooriſh modes of dancing, which almoſt every peaſant can accompany with his voice and inſtrument, their groupes become extremely pictureſque: To theſe may be added the character of their [20] dreſs, particularly that of Andaluſia, which both in male and female is uncommonly antique and graceful; the cloak alone may be folded twenty different ways for different applications, and each attitude preſents a ſpecimen of drapery worthy the ſtudy of an academy. The Painters have availed themſelves of this, Italians as well as natives, and the Capa will be found frequently upon their canvaſſes, even where the ſcene does not lie in Spain. In ſpeaking of Spain, as a country favourable to Painters, I think it is juſt to except painters of landſcapes; in theſe it has neither excelled nor abounded; and the general want of trees and verdure [21] readily ſupplies a reaſon: Groves and rivers and ſcattered habitations, emblematic of rural tranquillity, which furniſh the moſt pleaſing ſubjects to the imagination of the ſceniſt, are there but thinly ſpread; the face of Nature is aduſt and frowning.

The Emperor Charles, though not very cordially attached to his Spaniſh ſubjects, nor over partial to their country, cultivated notwithſtanding the genius of their Painters; and this he effected not only by ſending them to ſtudy under the Italian maſters, but alſo by inviting the Italian maſters into Spain; the fertile genius of Titiano might have been alone ſufficient to illuminate a kingdom, [22] and there were many others in the like employ; Julio and Alexandro, Italians of the ſchool of Juan de Udine, a diſciple of Rafael, were artiſts of great eminence; Charles employed them in a royal work, the beautifying the Alhambra of Grenada; they enriched the Hoſpital of Santiago, in the city of Ubeda, with many noble paintings, and the famous Duke of Alva found employment for their talents.

Alonſo Berruguete, a Caſtilian, educated in the ſchool of the great Michael Angelo, the friend and contemporary of Andrea del Sarto, Bachio Bandinello and others, returned into Spain an eminent proficient in painting, ſculpture [23] and architecture; deeply ſkilled in the theory of his art, he exhibited to the world a new ſyſtem of human ſymmetry and proportion, differing at once from the rules of Pomponio Gaurico, Philipo de Borgona and Alberto Durero, over whom he finally triumphed both in principle and practice; leaving many illuſtrious monuments of his excellence in all the branches of his ſtudy, both at Madrid, the Pardo and the Alhambra of Grenada; for which he was ſuitably honoured and rewarded by the Emperor Charles, and died full of years and replete with fame and fortune, in 1545, in the city of Madrid. I ſhould obſerve in this place, that in the [24] choir of the cathedral in Toledo, there are an innumerable number of beautiful carvings by Berruguete; Philip de Borgona executed one ſide of the choir, and Berruguete the other.

The ſucceſs of this artiſt was an encouragement to others, and the ſchool of Michael Angelo was eagerly reſorted to by Baptiſta Bergamo and Gaſpar Becerra, of Baiza in Andaluſia; theſe illuſtrious ſtudents returned together to Spain, and were immediately taken into the protection of the Emperor. The arts, which Rincon had tranſplanted into Spain, which Berruguete had ſo proſperouſly advanced, they (but eſpecially Becerra) puſhed into maturity; [25] this man, who even in Rome (at that period in her zenith) had attracted general admiration, excelled in ſculpture, equally as in painting; in the latter art his mode of colouring, and his management in the relief of his figures, greatly improved the practice of the Spaniſh ſchool, and taught his countrymen to look upon their firſt manner with contempt: As a ſtatuary, he ſeems to have found ample field for the exerciſe of his talents; the altars now began to wear a different form; inſtead of the diſtorted barbarous ſhapes of Gothic maſonry, crucifixes, ſaints and virgins now took place, in all the grande guſto of Michael Angelo. The [26] churches of Aſtorga, Zamora, Burgos and Salamanca contended which ſhould firſt engage him in their ſervice; he executed all theſe commiſſions to the ſatisfaction of the Fathers, and, when they had equipped his images in wide hoops and furbelowed petticoats, they applauded the artiſt, and adored his manufacture. It was not ſo eaſy to ſatisfy the caprice of Iſabella of Valois; ſhe commiſſioned him to carve a wooden image of our Lady of the Solidad, for the convent of San Franciſco de Paulo; Becerra received her Majeſty's commands, and addreſſed himſelf with diligence to the work; after the labour of a year he compleated an [27] image to his intire ſatisfaction; he preſented it to the Queen with an aſſurance of ſucceſs, but in vain; his image did not reach the ideas of the Queen; the expreſſion did not pleaſe her; and he was commanded not only to make a better, but to take leſs time in making it: He executed his order a ſecond time, and produced an image to the admiration of all beholders; even the Fathers of the Convent acknowledged it to be a perfect and exact repreſentation of nature; it was again ſubmitted to the Queen, and again condemned for falling ſhort of her Majeſty's conceptions of our Lady of the Solidad; the unhappy artiſt was threatened to be ſuperſeded [28] in the commiſſion by ſome abler maſter; but, anxious to preſerve his pre-eminence, and fulfil her Majeſty's ideas, he again applied himſelf with ardour to the taſk; he racked his imagination without ceaſing to frame ſome viſage, and deviſe ſome form, that Iſabella might confeſs bore a reſemblance to the image in her mind: Wearied out with the tormenting inveſtigation, the exhauſted artiſt one day fell into a profound ſleep; whilſt this was paſſing, he ſaw, or thought he ſaw, a female figure preſenting herſelf at the feet of his bed; he looked, in hopes perhaps to have obtained a model for his image; but the lady unluckily concealed her [29] face; at length, addreſſing him in the moſt courteous ſtile, ſhe deſired him to open his eyes, get out of bed, and take the log, that he would find burning on his hearth, and ſet to work upon it, and he would find an image to his mind; Becerra, overjoyed, loſt no time in following her advice; he found the log, quenched it; 'twas a convenient piece of timber; and with this ſupernatural aid compleated a figure to the heart's content of Iſabella; the Monks, whoſe prayers aſſiſted the execution, received the miraculous image with joy; it was erected on the high altar of the convent in Valladolid, with all proper ceremonials fitting the ſolemnity; it [30] was habited in the weeds of Queen Joanna, widow of Philip the Handſome, and remains to this day, not indeed a monument of Becerra's art (for no part of that is to be ſeen) but of his patience; and proves, that, however eminent might be his talent for ſculpture, if it had not been for his faculty of dreaming, he would have made a ſhameful ſhipwreck of his fame. Happy had it been for poor Torrigiano, if he had had Becerra's diſcretion, or Becerra's dreams.

Antonio Flores, and Fernando Gallegos (the one of Seville and the other of Salamanca) were Painters of great merit, and much in the favour of the Emperor, [31] particularly the latter; they formed themſelves in the ſchool of Alberto Durero, and Gallegos copied the manner of his maſter ſo cloſely, that many of his pictures cannot be diſtinguiſhed from Durero's: Some of his works remain at Salamanca, but moſt of them ſo impaired by time, and by the cloiſter where they hang, that they are become ſcarce viſible. Charles the Vth alſo brought with him into Spain, out of Italy, the celebrated Pedro Campana, a Fleming by birth, who had ſtudied twenty years in the ſchool of Rafael Urbin: When Charles made his entry into Bologna, in the year 1530, Pedro Campana deviſed the grand triumphal arch, under [32] which he paſſed: Campana ſoon after came into Spain, reſiding chiefly at Seville. In the chapel of the Purification in that city there is ſtill to be ſeen a capital painting by this maſter on the ſubject of the ceremony, to which the chapel is dedicated; a Deſcent from the Croſs and a Nativity, both celebrated pictures, are yet to be ſeen in the church of San Lorenzo; and in the convent of San Pablo, in a ſmall chapel adjoining to the Chapter-houſe, there is a picture by Campana on the ſubject of the Circumciſion; all which are much extolled by Pacheco in his treatiſe on the Art of Painting. Campana died in the year 1570 at Bruſſels, where his [33] portrait is ſtill to be ſeen in the Conſiſtory.

It was this viſit made by the Emperor Charles to Bologna in 1530, which brought about an event of the firſt importance in the hiſtory of the arts in Spain; I mean the introduction of the works of Titiano, and ſome time after of Titiano himſelf; that great maſter was in Bologna, when Charles made his entry, and like Charles was then in the full luſtre of his fame; ſcarce a character of eminence in Europe, but was to be found on the canvaſs of Titiano; to be delivered to poſterity in the glowing colours of his pencil ſeemed an object of general ambition, and in ſome degree an anticipation [34] of immortality; Alonſo de Ferrara, Federico Gonzaga (Duke of Mantua) Franciſco Maria, (Duke of Urbino) the Marquis del Baſto, Peſcara, Alva, Franciſco Sforza, Antonio de Leyva, Diego de Mendoza, Arretino, Bembo, Fracaſtorio, Ferdinand (King of the Romans) and his ſon Maximilian, both afterwards Emperors, the Popes Sixtus IV, Julius II, and Paulus III, the great Emperor Soliman and the Sultaneſs Roſa were amongſt the illuſtrious perſonages, who had been painted by Titiano: The Emperor ſate to him at Bologna, as he paſſed through that city in the year above mentioned; he was in the meridian of life and, though he could not be ſaid to inherit the [35] beauty of Philip the Handſome, he was nevertheleſs of a majeſtic comely aſpect; the portrait pleaſed him well and, though ſo weak an ingredient as vanity was not to be found in Charles's compoſition, yet he was not inſenſible to impreſſions, and henceforward determined never to commit his perſon to any other limner than Titiano. He was a lover of arts, not an enthuſiaſt; he knew the force of their effects, and reverenced them for their power, without-being captivated by their charms; to men of eminence he was liberal without familiarity; in ſhort, his affections in this particular, as in every other, were directed regularly to their object by reaſon, not driven impetuouſly by conſtitution [36] or paſſion: Upon this principle he rewarded Titiano for his portrait with a thouſand golden ſcudi, conſulting thereby no leſs his own magnificence, than the artiſt's merit; he paid him 200 ducats for a ſmall piece; and, upon Titiano's preſenting him with a picture of the Annunciation, for which his countrymen the Venetians had refuſed to pay him more than 200 ſcudi, Charles rewarded him for the preſent with a thouſand. He invited Titiano into Spain, and preſſed him to comply, uſing many promiſes and ſome intreaties; anxious to wreſt the palm of glory from the brows of his rival Francis in arts, as well as arms, he perceived there was no other living [37] merit but Titiano's, which he could oppoſe to that of Leonardo da Vinci. Carlos Rodolfi, the biographer of Titiano, ſays he never came into Spain, but he is miſtaken; it was not however till the year 1548 that he complied with the Emperor's invitation; from that period till 1553 he reſided in Spain; during this reſidence he compoſed many admirable works, and received many princely rewards; Charles gave him the key, the order of Santiago at Bruſſels, and in 1553 conſtituted him a Count Palatine of the empire at Barcelona by an inſtrument worthy to be recorded; viz. Carolus V. divinâ favente clementiâ Romanorum Imperator auguſtus ac Rex Germaniae, [38] Hiſpaniarumque ſpectabili noſtro et imperii ſacri fideli dilecto Titiano de Vecellis, ſive equiti aurato, et ſacri Lateranenſis palatii, aulaeque nrae et imperialis conſiſtorii comiti gratiam Caeſaream et omne bonum.

Cum nobis ſemper mos fuerit, poſtquam ad hujus Caeſariae dignitatis celſitudinem divis auſpiciis evecti fuerimus, vos potiſſimum, qui ſingulari fide et obſervantiâ erga nos et ſacrum Romanum imperium praediti egregiis moribus, eximiis virtutibus et ingenuis artibus induſtriâ (que) clari et excellentes habiti ſunt prae caeteris benevolentiâ, favore et gratiâ noſtrâ proſequi. Attendentes igitur ſingularem tuam erga nos, et ſacrum [39] Romanum imperium fidem et obſervantiam, ac praeter illas egregias virtutes tuas et ingenii dotes, exquiſitam illam pingendi et ad vivum effigiendarum imaginum ſcientiam, quâ quidem arte talis nobis viſus es, ut meritò hujus ſaeculi Apelles dici merearis, &c. Motu igitur proprio et certâ noſtrâ ſcientiâ, animo deliberato, ſano quoque Principum, Comitum, Baronum, Procerum et aliorum noſtrorum et Imperii ſacri dilectorum accidente conſilio, et de noſtrae Caeſareae poteſtatis plenitudine te praenominatum Titianum ſacri Lateranenſis palatii, aulae (que) nrae, et Imperialis conſiſtorii comitem fecimus, creavimus, ereximus, et comitatus Palatini tititulo [40] clementer inſignivimus: Prout tenore praeſentium facimus, creamus, erigimus, attolimus et inſignimus ac aliorum Comitum Palatinorum numero et conſortu gratanter aggregamus et adſcribimus, &c.

Theſe favours alarmed the jealouſy of the nobles both of Germany and Spain, but their envy drew no other anſwer from Charles, than that he had many nobles in his empire and but one Titiano; the artiſt, who was at ſome diſtance, employed upon a picture, overheard the retort with conſcious ſatisfaction and, as he made his reverence to the Emperor, dropt a pencil on the floor; the courteous monarch took it up and, delivering it to [41] him confounded by this ſecond mark of his condeſcenſion, added, that to wait on Titiano was a ſervice for an Emperor. Charles did not only grace this eminent artiſt with the ſplendid ornaments and titles above mentioned, he gave him more ſolid marks of his favour, appointing him rents in Naples of two hundred ducats annually each, beſides a munificent compenſation for every picture he executed: Palomino ſays, that Charles regarded the poſſeſſion of a capital piece of Titiano more than he did the acquiſition of a new province to his dominion; but Palomino was a painter, and more familiar with the pictures of Titiano, than with the politics [42] of the Emperor: This would have been a caprice unworthy of any prince; but Charles's character was not the ſport of caprice; whilſt to the very moment of his life, when he reſigned his dominions, it was evident that ambition was his ruling paſſion; had he been capable of that preference, which Palomino aſcribes to him, he would hardly have taken ſuch pains to the laſt hour of his reign to perſuade his brother Ferdinand to make a ſacrifice of his ſucceſſion of the empire, nor have retired into the unfurniſhed cell of his convent with his puppets and his birds without one conſolatory remembrance of his favourite author to cheer his ſolitude, or to enflame [43] his devotion: I can hardly be perſuaded, that Charles's abdication of his empire was any proof of caprice; he plainly enough perceived his health was gone, and he was not willing that his fame ſhould follow it.

Titiano had quitted Spain, before Philip took poſſeſſion of the throne; the arts however had rapidly advanced: Charles had made ſome improvement to the royal edifices, but all with a view to accommodation rather than magnificence; he had fronted the old palace of Madrid, beautified and repaired the venerable Alhambra of Grenada, planted and diſpoſed the walks and avenues of Aranjuez in the Flemiſh taſte, [44] and built the Pardo at two leagues diſtance from the capital in a retired ſituation and in a ſtile by no means imperial; it is a ſquare building of moderate dimenſions, flanked with four ſmall towers at the angles, and environed with a foſs exactly on the ſcale of a nobleman's ſeat in his native country: Superſtition ſoon engaged Philip in a more important undertaking and, having made a vow upon the victory of St. Quintin to dedicate a church and monaſtery to San Lorenzo, he began in the midſt of a ſolitary and frightful deſart to diſplace the rocks and compel them to take the ſhape of an edifice: on the feaſt-day of St. George with much [45] temporal and ſpiritual pomp he laid the foundation-ſtone of the monaſtery of San Lorenzo, called the Eſcorial, with the following, Inſcription:

Deus O. M. operi Aſpiciat!
Philippus II. Hiſpaniarum Rex
a fundamentis erexit
MDLXIII.

Joan Baptiſta Architectus
IX Ka. MAII.

So much has been ſaid on the ſubject of this extraordinary edifice, and the Spaniſh writers make ſuch a pompous diſplay of its magnificence, that I might appear to affect a ſingularity of opinion, if I was to offer freely what my [46] imperfect judgment ſuggeſts on the matter; to ſuch of my readers, as have ſeen the Eſcorial, what I ſhould have to ſay would have little novelty; and in their opinions, who have not ſeen it, and been taught to reſpect it, it might have too much. The ſcale undoubtedly is magnificent, though the maſs is graceleſs; as a monaſtery it is vaſt and aweful, fitly calculated to entomb the living and the dead; as a palace, it is juſtly emblematic of its founder, who on the ſummit of the ſuperincumbent mountain was accuſtomed to ſit and ſurvey his riſing fabric in ſilent contemplation and delight. Franciſco de los Santos, the monk, who wrote a pompous [47] [...]eſcription of the Eſcorial, ob [...]erves that the ſenſation, which a [...]pectator feels upon entering the [...]reat court, is the ſame as at ſud [...]enly hearing a delightful concert; [...]he ſoul, ſays he, in both caſes is [...]bſorbed in extaſy—what then muſt [...]ave been the ſenſations of Phi [...]ip, as he ſate upon the top of the [...]ountain, where at one glance he [...]ook in the whole birds-eye of the [...]difice? Certainly, if the good Fa [...]her heard a concert upon his en [...]ering only one of the courts of [...]he monaſtery, His Catholic Ma [...]eſty, when ſtationed on the moun [...]ain, muſt have enjoyed a full cho [...]us of muſical extaſy: For my [...]art, taking into conſideration the [...]crupulous performance of his vow, [48] I am inclined to believe his chief pleaſure conſiſted in obſerving how exactly he had made the building correſpond to the gridiron of San Lorenzo; this he did in honourable commemoration of the martyrdom of the Saint above mentioned: He alſo took the pious precaution of diſpoſing a number of relics in the balls of the cupolas, croſſes and different parts of the building, to preſerve it from fire, ſtorm, or any other injury: Theſe holy preſervatives have not been very ſucceſsful in their office, for great part of the edifice, with not a few of the relics in charge, were conſumed by a dreadful conflagration: Nor is this the only element at war with the Eſcorial, the furious guſts [49] of wind, that occaſionally ſweep from the impending mountains, ſurpaſs deſcription: The Eſcorial is placed in the very eddy of theſe furious guſts; as neither man, nor beaſt, nor carriages can ſtand before them, a ſubterranean paſſage is cut through the rock, under the area of the court, for a communication with the town, which is better ſheltered from the blaſt: The maſſy walls of the building are proof againſt the violence of the ſtorms, but the covering of the roof, though fortified with all poſſible care againſt the attack, continually exhibits melancholy proofs oſ its inſufficiency; whilſt the architect, by diſpoſing the windows to reſiſt the wind, ſeems to have [50] forgot, that one part of their office was to admit the light.

If the architect however finds ſomething to condemn, the painter will find much to admire: It is undoubtedly a repoſitory of noble arts. As ſoon as Philip had conceived the idea of enriching the royal convent with every thing ſuitable to the magnificence of its ſcale, and which the mines of America, that flowed in upon his treaſury, could procure, he caſt his eyes towards his father's favourite painter Titiano, then returned into his own country: Whether he ſolicited him to come again into Spain does not appear; but he had certainly given him ſeveral commiſſions for pictures: In a letter, [51] which Philip writes to Titiano of the 13th of July 1558 from Ghent, he acknowledges the receipt of one from Titiano of the 19th of the preceding month, and expreſſes the ſatisfaction it gave him to hear, that he had compleated his picture of Calixtus and one alſo of Diana bathing: He tells him that he had wrote to Garcias Fernandez at Genoa to forward theſe pictures for Spain, and deſires Titiano himſelf to ſuperintend the backing and to direct the caſes, that no other of his valuable productions might be again expoſed to the like misfortune, as had befallen his painting of the Chriſt, which had been ruined by the way: He earneſtly [...]equeſts of Titiano to reſtore that [52] loſs by another of the ſame compoſition, which he ſhall highly prize, as coming from the hand of ſo great a maſter: In concluſion he expreſſes his regret to hear that the rents, ſettled upon him in Milan and Naples, had fallen into arrear, and tells him that he will put thoſe payments in ſuch train, that there ſhall be no cauſe of complaint in future. This in effect he performed by a peremptory mandate to his governor of Milan, directing him to ſatisfy the arrears due to Titiano from the date of the grants in 1541 and 1548, and put the ſame in regular courſe of payment for the future, either from the Ducal chamber, or ſuch other funds as might be more conveniently applied to that purpoſe. [53] This mandate bears date the 25th of December 1558, and at the foot of it the King writes theſe lines with his own hand: You know how I am intereſted in this order, as it affects Titiano; comply with it therefore in ſuch a manner, as to give me no occaſion to repeat it. The King had the further attention to continue to him the grant of his Key, and nominated him Firſt Painter of the chamber.

The pictures, which Titiano made in Spain, and thoſe he ſent into Spain, form of themſelves a large and magnificent collection; the catalogues of the Eſcorial and Madrid give ſome idea of them, but do not nearly reach the amount; to particularize their reſpective [54] merit is not the object of this work, and would be an undertaking far above my hands: In a poſthumous publication of Antonio Rafael Mengs, printed at Madrid in 1780, there are ſome obſervations on Titiano's pictures in the palace at Madrid; I could wiſh, for the reader's better gratification, that more had been ſaid by Mengs upon the ſubject; and in general it is to be regretted, that he had not entered into a fuller deſcription of the Madrid collection, of which he profeſſes to give an account: But it is not in theſe collections of the Eſcorial and palace of Madrid, as I before obſerved, that we can find the ſum of Titiano's works in Spain; [55] many capital pictures are diſperſed, many periſhed in the deplorable fire, that deſtroyed the Pardo, ſome have been by late decree exiled for their diſhoneſty, and ſome condemned and executed in the flames: Amongſt the pictures, that periſhed at the Pardo, many portraits of the Auſtrian family were loſt, together with one of Titiano himſelf, painted by order of Charles V. a celebrated work, in which the painter is repreſented, holding in his hand the portrait of Charles; transferring by this courtly device the honour of the repreſentation from himſelf to the Emperor. On the ſubject of the exiles and martyrs above mentioned I am unwilling [56] to enlarge, it will ſuffice to ſay, that being moſt in the nude, their crime will in ſome people's judgment appear their recommendation; certain it is that the unparalleled and ineſtimable figure of the ſleeping Venus, which was given by Philip the IVth to our Charles the Firſt, when Prince of Wales, upon the viſit he made in Spain, and which, after the death of that unhappy monarch, was purchaſed by the Spaniſh ambaſſador in England, has been reſcued from execution by the addreſs of Mengs. I frequently viſited this matchleſs deity in her hiding-place, where I found her miſerably lodged, though reſpectably attended by an Atalanta in [57] the race by Guido, divinely executed, a Helen and Paris by Rubens, and three Graces of the ſame maſter, coloured to a miracle, but much more embonpoint than their principal. To attempt any deſcription of this ſleeping Venus appears to me as impoſſible, as it would be to condemn ſuch perfect and withal ſuch modeſt beauties to the flames; a graceful turn of the neck gives the full countenance to the ſpectator, in which the maſter-artiſt has diſplayed beauty and ſweetneſs of the divineſt ſort, with the moſt perfect innocence of character; the limbs are elegantly and decently diſpoſed, the hues are glowing and tranſparent, the outline [58] round and glittering, and the local lights and ſhades produced by thoſe tender and imperceptible touches, that form the magic of Corregio; in ſhort it is a miracle of art, and was ſo decidedly the chef d'oeuvre of the maſter, that, after ſeveral efforts to rival his own matchleſs work, he quitted this ſelf-emulation in deſpair. It is to the honour of Don Antonio Mengs, that he ſaved it from deſtruction: It had another eſcape from the flames of the Pardo, which fatal accident being reported to Philip the IVth, then on the throne, he inſtantly demanded, if the Titian-Venus had eſcaped the conflagration; the meſſenger aſſured him that it was ſaved, then [59] replied the King all other loſſes may be ſupported: I cannot diſmiſs this enchanting object without obſerving, that, by teſtimony of all the beſt judges of its merit, it yields in no particular to the Venus of Medicis, but in the weaker nature of it's material: twice reſcued from the flames, it ſtill exiſts in perfect condition: May no future age of the world produce a hand to raiſe an ax againſt the one, or to conſtruct a funeral pile for the other!

There are ſeveral paintings of Titiano in the Madrid collection upon fabulous ſubjects, and in particular a Tarquin and Lucretia ſo naturally executed, that, what between the exceſs of chaſtity in one [60] prince, and the notorious abuſe of it in the other, it muſt be owned the lady has had an eſcape. But of all his pictures upon ſubjects of this deſcription, the moſt beautiful are two celebrated companions, the one a groupe of Bacchanals, the other of Cupids, in the apartments of the Princeſs; the figures in each are of the third part of the natural ſize. In the fore ground of the groupe of Bacchanals there is a young female votariſt aſleep, of which Don Antonio Mengs in his critique above mentioned ſpeaks with rapture; he ſays that he never ſaw it without that ſtriking novelty of delight as if he had never diſcovered it before: The colouring of this [61] figure he obſerves is in Titiano's cleareſt manner, and the degradation of tints through the whole groupe, (which is all in the nude, and which with an infinite variety of nice diſcriminations compoſes one uniform tone) is wonderfully contrived; and conſtitutes ſuch a model in the art of colouring, as he never met with in any other example; he concludes his remarks on this picture by obſerving, that all the harmonious accompaniments of ſky, variegated ſoil, with deep and tender ſhades of the trees, form ſuch an aſſemblage of beautiful objects in nature perfectly imitated, that a better picture in this ſtile he does not think the world can produce: [62] The other picture repreſents a very numerous groupe of beautiful Cupids, diſpoſed in a wonderful variety of attitudes, employed in puerile ſports, under a grove of apple-trees, the fruit of which they have ſcattered about the ground, and are playing with in the moſt gay and natural manner: The ſame curious degradation of hues in the carnations of the fleſh and colours of the hair obtains in this picture, as in the former, and to an equal degree of excellence; the ſame remarks therefore, as I have quoted in that caſe, are applicable to this: Don Antonio Mengs adds, that theſe pictures were formerly in the Ludovici palace at Rome, and were a preſent [63] to the king of Spain: Sandrart reports of this groupe of Cupids, that it ſerved for a ſtudy to Dominiquino, Pouſin and Flamenco; Albano has tranſcribed a part of this groupe into a compoſition of his painting, and there are two copies made by Rubens of theſe pictures to be ſeen in the palace; the ingenious author above quoted adds with rather too much critical ſeverity, that theſe copies of Rubens are like an elegant author tranſlated into Dutch, where the ſentiments of the original may be gueſt at, but all the grace is vaniſhed.

Of ſcriptural ſubjects, treated by the hand of this great maſter, the Eſcorial preſents a hoſt of valuable [64] examples; not a few art alſo to be found in the palace at Madrid; the celebrated picture of the Laſt Supper in the refectory at the Eſcorial has been repeatedly deſcribed, and is known to all Europe as a miracle of art: In a letter of Titiano to Philip, which is preſerved, he informs the King, that he had been ſeven years employed in painting it; this muſt ſurely be underſtood with latitude as to other intermediate compoſitions; for, although the artiſt, as it is well known, lived to a very uncommon age, yet the life of a Patriarch would ſcarce ſuffice to warrant undertakings of ſuch labour, nor would the reward of 2000 golden [65] ſcudi, which the King ſent him by way of Genoa, and which was in fact a magnificent price in thoſe times, be a proportionable compenſation for the dedication of ſo great a portion of his time.

The compoſition, which is called la gloria de Titiano, that of Chriſt in the garden and the Santa Margarita with the Dragon, would claim ſome deſcription, if much more capable judges had not already paſſed the due encomiums on theſe excellent performances; the ſcrupulous ſanctity of the monks was offended at ſome liberties taken by Santa Margarita in tucking up her robe and diſcovering part of a very graceful leg; a thing not ſeemly to be [66] done, when in company with a Dragon; eſpecially as all Dragons have not the prudence and good faith of that, which was in keeping by the Heſperides: But Jordan's rapid pencil pieced the petticoat, which now, like Raphael's wings,

Her feet
Shadows from either heel.

Titiano was born in 1480, and conſequently was 68 years old when he came into Spain; he ſtaid there five years and, after Charles's abdication, painted many pieces for Philip; it is to be expected therefore, that there will be found ſome tokens of natural [67] decay in his later works, and certain it is, that though his colouring is always good, ſome pictures there are in the royal collection of another pencil from his Venus, and far leſs bright than his ſlumbring Bacchant: He prattles ſometimes with the privilege of old age; but ſtill it is the prattle of Neſtor.

It is not to be underſtood that all the pictures of Titiano, that are in the royal collection, were painted by him, whilſt he was King's painter to Charles and to Philip: Many are of his earlier and better age, and were either preſented to the Crown, or purchaſed in Italy after the death of Titiano: An inſtance of this occurred in the caſe [68] of the famous pictures above-mentioned extracted from the Ludovice palace, which were a preſent to Philip: There is alſo in the ſacriſty of the Eſcorial a San Sebaſtian in his beſt manner, which was given by the Conde de Benavente, and ſeveral pieces of Titiano were collected by the great painter Velazquez in his excurſion to Italy by order of Philip the IVth. Whilſt Philip the IId. was thus ſolicitous to enrich his royal convent of San Lorenzo with the valuable works of Titiano, extracted out of Italy, his own kingdom of Spain offered to his choice many eminent profeſſors and diſciples in the art; the reſidence of that great maſter in Spain, and the emulation [69] of contemporary genius, rouſed into action by the ſtudy of his brilliant compoſitions, as well as by the introduction of other diſtinguiſhed foreigners, engaged in compleating and adorning that vaſt fabric, operated to produce an Auguſtan age in Spain. I ſhall proceed to name ſome of the principal painters, as well foreigners as natives, who were employed in furniſhing and adorning the Eſcorial.

Juan Fernandez Ximenez of Navarre, commonly called El Mudo or the Dumb, and generally acknowledged as the Titiano of Spain, was born at Logrono, of a reſpectable family; the defects of nature (for he was deaf as well as dumb) [70] were in ſome degree compenſated to him by moſt quick and brilliant ſenſe in the remaining faculties. He was firſt inſtructed in the art of painting by Fray Vicente de Santo Domingo, a monk of Santo Catalina in a convent at Talavera in Caſtile, of the order of Geronimytes; his early marks of genius were ſuch, that Fray Vicente propoſed to the parents of El Mudo to ſend him into Italy, which being accordingly done, he travelled to Florence, Venice, Milan and Naples, viſiting many of the moſt famous academies; but principally forming himſelf in the ſchool of Titiano: He ſoon eſtabliſhed ſo general a reputation in Italy, that Philip, being apprized of his fame, [71] recalled him into Spain and appointed him one of his painters at the Eſcorial; after having given ſome ſketches of Prophets in black and white, in the adornments of the ſacriſty, as ſamples of his art, he proceeded to compoſitions of greater conſequence, and painted the Baptiſm of our Saviour in the Prior's cell; he was after that employed in ſeveral paintings for a chapel, which King Philip cauſed to be erected in the wood of Segovia; theſe paintings were removed to the upper cloyſter of the Eſcorial, and in one of theſe, which repreſents the beheading of Santiago, El Mudo has inſerted the portrait of Santoyo in the character of the Executioner, in revenge [72] for ſome ill offices, which that miniſter had done him. Santoyo complained to the King, making ſuit that the figure might be expunged, and his perſon not delivered to poſterity in the diſgraceful occupation of a hangman; the King, who probably knew the cauſe of the offence, did not diſapprove of the nature of the revenge, and, excuſing himſelf to Santoyo on account of the excellence of the performance, would not allow the picture to be defaced. The Twelve Apoſtles on the great pillars of the church next to the high altar are alſo painted by El Mudo. When Titiano's famous painting of the Laſt Supper arrived at the Eſcorial, El Mudo was employed, [73] and upon Philip's propoſing to cut the canvaſs to the ſize of the pannel in the refectory, where it was deſtined to hang, El Mudo to prevent the mutilation of ſo capital a work made earneſt ſigns of interceſſion with the King to be permitted to copy it, and reduce it to the ſize of the place allotted, offering to do it in the ſpace of ſix months; upon the King's expreſſing a heſitation on account of the length of the time required by El Mudo for the work, and proceeding to put his deſign in execution, El Mudo repeated his ſupplications in behalf of his favourite maſter with more fervency than ever, offering to compleat his copy in leſs time, than he at firſt demanded, [74] tendering at the ſame time his head, as the puniſhment of non-compliance, laying his hand on his breaſt as a ſign, that he claimed the order of Santiago as his reward if he ſhould ſucceed; the offer was not accepted and execution was performed upon Titiano, accompanied with the moſt diſtreſsful attitudes and diſtortions of El Mudo. He died ſoon after at the Eſcorial to the great regret of Philip, at the age of 40, in the year 1572, generally intitled the Titiano of Spain, and was honoured with an epitaph by Fra. Lope Feliz de Vega Carpio.

El Divino Morales was born at Badajoz in the province of Eſtremadura, in the beginning of the [75] ſixteenth century. He was inſtructed at Seville in the academy of Pedro Campana, a diſciple of Raphael; from his conſtant choice of divine ſubjects and the extreme delicacy of his pencil he acquired the appellation of El Divino, and is known to the preſent age by no other name than that of El Divino Morales. All his paintings are upon board or copper, and almoſt generally heads of the crucified Saviour; no inſtance occurring of his having executed any compoſition or figure at full length. His heads are finiſhed off with infinite care and laboured to the utmoſt, yet not ſo as to diminiſh the force of the expreſſion; for I have ſeen ſome examples of [76] his Ecce Homo of a moſt exquiſite and touching character; alſo ſome heads of the Chriſt bearing the croſs approaching very near to the Saviour in the famous Paſmo de Sicilia. Though Morales never fails to impreſs the countenance with the deepeſt tints of human agony, I never met with any inſtance of his doing violence to our ideas of the divinity of the object he repreſents: His conception of the countenance ſeems to be original and his own, more reſembling however the face of the Chriſt in Raphael's picture above-mentioned, than any other; and worked, as it appears to me, after the manner of the highly-finiſhed heads of Leonardo da Vinci. He was undoubtedly [77] an artiſt of a very limited invention and deſign; in aerial perſpective and the clearobſcure I have ſometimes found him evidently deficient, nor has he any tincture of art or academy in grouping his figures and diſpoſing his attitudes; every thing is left to a ſimple expreſſion of affecting nature: His Mater doloroſa is the very extreme of ſorrow; nor is he anxious to maintain any trace of beauty amidſt his expreſſions of affliction: I am of opinion that no imagination, which had not been aided by the ſpectacles of exhauſted nature, which a nunnery exhibits, could have deviſed an object ſo extremely woe-begone: It is in ſhort the aggravated portrait [78] of an emaciated devotee expiring in her vigils. It may readily be believed in a country, where paintings of this ſort are amongſt the objects of devotion, and where every private houſe is furniſhed with its oratory and its altar, that the pictures of Morales muſt have been in general requeſt; it has been for the ſame reaſon extremely difficult for travellers to extract out of Spain any piece of this author; and as he worked very ſlowly and was not very induſtrious or intereſted in his art, his pictures are both very rare and very permanent in their ſtations*. [79] Enough may be had of illegitimate or ſuſpicious pretenſions, but in general they are eaſily to be diſtinguiſhed. One would expect to find in Morales's private life a character in uniſon with his ſtudies; but the contrary of this appears from his hiſtory. When Morales was ſummoned to the Eſcorial by Philip, he left Badajoz at the King's command, and putting himſelf in the beſt array, that his whole ſubſtance could procure, preſented himſelf to the ſovereign more like an Ambaſſador upon the [80] delivery of his credentials, than a rural artiſt, called to labour at his profeſſion for hire: Upon the King's remarking on the unexpected ſplendor of his appearance, he anſwered with an air of national gallantry that, being reſolved to dedicate every thing he poſſeſt by nature, or by fortune, to the ſervice of his ſovereign, he had preſented himſelf in the beſt condition and attire, that his means admitted in obedience to his ſummons. It does not appear, that his reply diſpleaſed, neither was the King diſſatisfied with his performances, for which he liberally rewarded him: However, when upon completion of his undertakings he returned to Badajoz, he [81] ſeems to have carried home the ſame ſpirit of extravagance; for, when Philip paſſed through that place in 1581 on his way to take poſſeſſion of the kingdom of Portugal, Morales preſented himſelf in a far different condition, reduced by poverty and age, for he was then 72 years old; Morales, ſays the King, methinks you are grown very old, ſince laſt I ſaw you. True, Sen̄or, replied he, and alſo very poor. Philip, (of whom the arts at leaſt have nothing to complain) directly turning to the city treaſurer ordered him 200 ducats, telling him it was to purchaſe him a dinner—and a ſupper too? ſaid Morales; No, anſwered the King, give him a hundred ducats more: a [82] fortunate rencounter for poor Morales: He ſurvived this event ſome years and died in 1586. Some of his paintings are preſerved at Cordova and Seville; and at Madrid in the chapel of our Lady of the Soledad, belonging to the convent of the Trinitarians, I have been ſhewn a Santa Veronica by his hand: There is alſo an Ecce Homo in the convent of the nuns of Corpus Chriſti, which with other ſpecimens I have met in private cabinets, confirm to me his title to the appellation of El Divino.

Miguel Barroſo, (a diſciple of Becerra) and Domingo Beltran the Jeſuit, a native of Victoria, were men of eminent talents; they were both excellent architects and of [83] great erudition: The former was employed at the Eſcorial in painting part of the principal cloyſter, the latter, who had formed himſelf in Italy, executed ſome ſtatues in the great church of admirable workmanſhip, and in the grande guſto of Michael Angelo. Beltran alſo carved a cruciſix for the high altar at the Imperial college, lately occupied by the Jeſuits at Madrid, a work of infinite merit and expreſſion; there is another on the high altar of the college at Alcala de Henares, which I have not ſeen, but which is no leſs celebrated: Both theſe ingenious artiſts died in the year 1590, both were men of amiable [84] manners, great candour and remarkable modeſty.

The ſame year was alſo fatal to Teodoſio Mingot the Catalan, (a diſciple of Michael Angelo) and Luis de Carvajal of Toledo, both eminent painters, and both employed at the Eſcorial: Part of the principal cloyſter is painted by Carvajal, and amongſt the paintings in the church ſpecimens of a reſpectable ſort are to be found of both theſe maſters.

But amongſt the principal artiſts, employed by Philip in the paintings of the Eſcorial, the Elder Coello was one in the chief favour and eſteem of that ſovereign, who in his letters ſtiles him Titiano Portugues (for he was of [85] that nation) and addreſſes him by the affectionate appellation of my beloved ſon Alonſo Sanchez Coello. He ſtudied at Rome in the ſchool of Rafael de Urbino, and compleated himſelf in his art under the inſtruction of Antonio Moro in Spain; he paſſed from Spain into Portugal, and was in the ſervice of Don Juan, and afterwards of his widow Donna Juana, ſiſter of Philip the ſecond: Upon the retirement of Antonio Moro, the King of Spain ſolicited his ſiſter to ſupply the loſs of that great artiſt by ſending him Coello; upon his arrival at the court Philip lodged him in an apartment near at hand, with which he had a private communication, for the purpoſe of viſiting [86] him, whilſt he was at work: On theſe occaſions he treated Coello with great familiarity and condeſcenſion; he was in ſuch favour with all the Royal family, that his apartment became at times their general rendezvous; and in theſe viſits Coello made ſeveral portraits of Philip on foot and horſeback, and of all the Royal or diſtinguiſhed perſonages, that compoſed the court: In ſhort he became conſidered as a man in ſuch high degree of favour, that his protection was lookt up to by the Courtiers and Grandees and his houſe and table frequented by the firſt perſons in the nation, not excepting Cardinal Grambela, Don Gaſpar de Zueroga, archbiſhop of Toledo, [87] and Don Rodrigo de Caſtro, archbiſhop of Seville: Coello was no leſs in favour with Pope Gregory the XIIIth and Sixtus Quintus, with the Dukes of Florence and Savoy, Cardinal Farneſe and many other illuſtrious characters of that time. After endowing a charitable foundation for the reception of poor orphans at Valladolid, Coello died in the ſixty-fifth year of his age in 1590; an aera fatal to the arts in Spain.

If Coello cannot properly be conſidered as a native of Spain, he muſt be acknowledged to rank high amongſt the chief artiſts, who have flouriſhed in that kingdom: His paintings in the Eſcorial, which are chiefly of Saints affixed [88] to the reſpective altars, do great honour to his memory; the portrait, that he made of the great patriarch San Ignacio, drawn from an impreſſion of his face, taken in wax after his death, is much celebrated; and his original figures of Siſiphus and Titius, as well as his copies from Titiano of Tantalus and Ixion, now in the palace of Madrid, are noble ſpecimens. His portraits of many royal and noble perſons, which are ſpoken of as excellent, periſhed with many other of his capital works in the unfortunate fire of the Pardo; of all which ſurvive, the principal in point of compoſition is preſerved in the church of San Geronimo in Madrid, repreſenting [89] the martyrdom of San Sebaſtian; on the right hand of the Saint ſtands the figure of Chriſt, on the left the Virgin Mary, and lower in the front San Bernardo and San Franciſco; above a glory and a figure repreſenting El Padre Eterno; the whole is executed with great majeſty of deſign, a bold relief and a ſtrong and maſterly expreſſion: He colours in the ſtile of Titiano and ſeems to draw with great facility and freedom. He died univerſally regretted by the artiſts, lamented by Philip, who regarded him highly, and celebrated by the famous Lopez de Vega who wrote his epitaph.

Philip in the decline of fortune and life, by the death of Coello loſt [90] his beſt and perhaps only reſource againſt the vexations of ſtate and the intruſions of remorſe: Haughty by nature and harſh through diſappointment, there were ſtill ſome moments, when his pride ſought the relief of familiarity, and when his temper for a while relaxed into complacency: In thoſe moments he would mount the ladder, (the only one he ever climbed without ambition or diſgrace) that privately communicated with the painting-room of Coello. Philip had deſerved well of the arts, and in company with them he found himſelf for once amongſt his friends: Coello had diſcretion, good manners and much acquaintance with the world; if [91] the King encouraged converſation, Coello knew every body and every thing, and out of thoſe could chuſe his topics ſuitably and treat them agreeably; if the King was diſpoſed to ſilence during his viſit, as was frequently the caſe, Coello purſued his work with fixt attention, he preſſed his canvaſs into life with all the energy and ſpirit of his genius: The king ſate by, contemplating the new creation, which the hand of art was forming in his ſight, and for a while perhaps forgot the breaches he had cauſed in that of nature's producing: By the eaſel of Coello, if he was not defended from the cares, he was at leaſt ſecure from the intruſions of Royalty. Whoever has [92] been accuſtomed to look on during the operations of induſtry or art, muſt have experienced a repoſe of thought, an interval from worldly inquietude, that ſteals inſenſibly and gradually upon the mind, as ſleep does on the body: If ſuch are our ſenſations, whilſt contemplating the labourer at his taſk, or the mechanic at his trade, how much do we improve the avocation, when the eye is called off from every other object and fixed upon one of the moſt pleaſing and ſurprizing in the whole circle of human arts and inventions! We may naturally believe that Philip felt the benefits of this reſource: In his council-chamber the defection of provinces galled his pride, [93] and the diſperſion of armadas thwarted his ambition: In his cloſet the injured Perez ſtung his conſcience and the unhappy Don Carlos haunted his imagination; but in the academy of Coello he ſaw himſelf in his moſt favourable light, and perhaps the only one, which can reflect a luſtre on his memory.

The great works, which Philip was carrying on at the Eſcorial, and the magnificent collection of paintings he was there amaſſing, attracted the attention of all the artiſts in Europe, whilſt the wealth and munificence of the King held out ample encouragement to adventurers of merit. Spain at that brilliant aera was in poſſeſſion of [94] many native painters, who had they been happy enough to have found an hiſtorian to have done juſtice to their fame, would at this day have ranked with the moſt diſtinguiſhed maſters of the age in Italy; but their names are buried in the obſcurity of time, and their works in that of cloyſters and convents.

Philip preſſed his favourite undertaking with ſuch ardour, and the immeaſurable walls of the convent of San Lorenzo offered ſuch a field for emulation, that the harveſt could not be reaped by natives only, however numerous; ſo that to conclude the work within the period of his reign it was neceſſary to call in the aſſiſtance of more [95] labourers, and a great body of ingenious emigrants accepted the invitation: My deſign is to preſent the reader with a few local anecdotes relative to the principal characters of this deſcription, the gleanings of their better hiſtory, which in general is ſo well known, as to make any more diffuſive relation ſuperfluous and impertinent.

In ſelecting theſe I ſhall principally follow the order of time, in which they flouriſhed, for the preſent however confining myſelf to the reign of Philip the IId.

Antonio Moro (Sir Antony More) the predeceſſor and preceptor of the elder Coello above mentioned, was born at Utrecht, [96] where in the early years of his life he ſtudied in the ſchool of Juan Eſcorelio; from thence he paſſed into Italy, where he ultimately formed himſelf upon the models of the great maſters Michael Angelo and Rafael de Urbino. He came into Spain 1552, Charles V. being then on the throne, under the protection of his countryman Cardinal Grambeli; he made a portrait of Prince Philip, and, being recommended by the Cardinal to the ſervice of the Emperor, he was ſent by him into Portugal to take the portrait of the Princeſs Donna Maria, then contracted to Philip: At the ſame time he painted John III. of Portugal and his queen Donna Catalina, [97] Charles's youngeſt ſiſter; by all which portraits he gave entire ſatisfaction, and was magnificently rewarded both by Charles and the Royal perſonages above-mentioned. Having ſucceeded ſo well in this commiſſion, he was next diſpatcht by the Emperor into England to the court of Mary, to take the portrait of that princeſs, previous to her eſpouſals with Philip: Moro employed all the flattering aids of his art in this portrait, and ſo captivated the courtiers of Spain with the charms of Mary's perſon, that he was employed by his patron the Cardinal and many of the Grandees to make copies of his picture, one of which I have ſeen in poſſeſſion of a noble [98] family, and by which it ſhould appear that Moro was not only a very good painter, but an excellent courtier. Having enriched himſelf by his embaſſy to England, he returned into Spain upon the concluſion of peace between that kingdom and France, and was eagerly received into the ſervice of Philip II. then on the throne. His excellence in the painting of portraits ſupplied him with ample employ in this court, Philip, who made ſlaves of his friends and friends of his painters, treated Moro with extraordinary familiarity. This great artiſt had not all the courtly diſoretion of his ſcholar Coello, and met the King's advances with the ſame eaſe [99] that they were made; ſo that one day, whilſt he was at his work and Philip looking on, Moro dipt his pencil in carmine, and with it ſmeared the hand of the King, who was reſting his arm on his ſhoulder: The jeſt was raſh, and the character, to which it was applied, not to be played upon with impunity; the hand of the Sovereign of Spain (which even the fair ſex kneel down to ſalute) was never ſo treated ſince the foundation of the monarchy; the King ſurveyed it ſeriouſly a while, and in that perilous moment of ſuſpence the fate of Moro balanced on a hair; the courtiers, who were in awful attendance, revolted from the ſight with horror and [100] amazement (could Luca Jordano have ſeized the groupe in that moment and daſhed it off with his rapid facility, what a ſubject for a painter!) caprice, or I would rather ſay pity, turned the ſcale, and Philip paſſed the ſilly action off with a ſmile of complacency: The painter, dropping on his knees, eagerly ſeized thoſe of the King, and kiſſed his ſeet in humble atonement for the offence, and all was well, or ſeemed at leaſt ſo to be; but the perſon of the King was too ſacred in the conſideration of thoſe times, and the act too daring to eſcape the notice of the awful office of the Inquiſition; theſe holy and enlightened Fathers, maturely weighing all the circumſtances [101] of the caſe, learnedly concluded that Antonio Moro, being a foreigner and a traveller, had either learnt the art magic, or obtained in England ſome ſpell or charm, wherewith he had bewicht the King: Nor let the heretical reader treat this ſtory as a fiction, or think that the Fathers according to the premiſes, on which their judgments then were and ſtill are formed, reaſoned much amiſs; for a diſbelief in witches is a ſpecies of criminal infidelity to the preſent moment condemnable at that ſacred tribunal, of which I could give a late very notable example, if it was proper to make public a gentleman's diſgrace, for which he has ſuffered puniſhment, [102] and of which it is hoped he has duly repented. If Antonio had contended that he practiſed no other charms upon Philip, than thoſe of his art, which over ſome minds has a kind of bewitching influence, ſuch a plea would ſcarce have paſſed with his judges, whoſe hearts were far out of reach of ſuch mechanical faſcination; and as little would it have ſerved his cauſe to plead the natural gaiety and good-humour of the Monarch, ſuch an argument would have been fairly ſet down amongſt thoſe quae non admittuntur; ſo that his condemnation would have been inevitable; for as it is hard to ſuppoſe how any man could daub the fingers of a King of Spain with [103] carmine, unleſs by the correſpondence and conſpiracy of the Devil, or ſome of his agents in witchcraft, no doubt the tragedy of poor Torregiano would have been revived on this occaſion, had not the ſame Devil, in the ſhape of one of Philip's miniſters, luckily ſnatcht Antonio from his fate, whilſt the tortures were preparing to force out the impious ſecrets of his black and diabolic art: This ſame miniſter of Philip, or I ſhould rather ſay of the Devil, ſpirited away his brother imp of darkneſs to Bruſſels without loſs of time, upon the feigned pretence (which on ſuch occaſions is readily enough ſupplied to the wicked) of an immediate and preſſing [104] avocation. It was in vain that Philip moved him to revoke his reſolution, in vain that he ſolicited him by letters under his own hand, expreſſed in terms the moſt kind and condeſcending, and declarations even of affection to his perſon, as well as of eſteem for his talents; the terrors of a tribunal, from which even the Royal hand, that he had ſo familiarly treated, could not ſnatch him, weighed down all the careſſes, all the ſolicitations of the King, and he departed, loaded with the rewards of Philip's munificence, and penetrated with the proofs of his complacency and indulgence. He left many portraits and ſome hiſtorical pieces in [105] the Royal collection, but moſt of them periſhed at the Pardo.

As the elder Coello ſupplied the loſs of Antonio Moro in the liſt of Philip's painters, ſo that of El Mudo was filled by Luqueto, or Lucas Cambiaſo, or according to Spaniſh orthography Cangiaſo, of Genoa, one of the moſt celebrated painters of his time: His principal work at the Eſcorial is the roof of the choir, for which it is recorded that he received the ſum of 12,000 ducats; a work of infinite labour, conſiſting of a vaſt multitude of the bleſt, received into heaven, with a great hoſt of angels ſurrounding the holy Trinity, placed in the center of the groupe: The diſpoſition of theſe figures is [106] void of all grace or art as to pictureſque effect, being ſeated regularly upon benches one behind the other, a direct counterpart of the reverend Fathers below: The whole compoſition preſents to the ſpectator's eye one living range of heads, amongſt theſe the painter has taken the liberty of introducing his own and that of his friend Fra. Antonio de Villacartin. Conſidering it as a pavement of faces, worked by the ſquare yard, Lucas Cangiaſo has executed his commiſſion like an able and honeſt mechanic; the honour of the deſign is due to certain Theologians of the time, who, regarding the beauty of effect with pious contempt, conſidered only how to [107] diſpoſe the aſſembly in decent form and order, moſt reſembling, as I before obſerved, the congregation of the monks in the choir. King Charles the IId would have engaged Luca de Jordano to undertake the re-painting it to diſpoſe it after his own fancy and deſign; but that painter excuſed himſelf from the taſk, probably for other reaſons than the reſpect he pretended to entertain for the merit and ſuperior excellence of the original. Lucas Cangiaſo was accompanied out of Italy by Lazaro Tabaron and his brother Horatio Cangiaſo, on whom Philip ſettled proportionable appointments. Lucas died at the Eſcorial much enriched [108] by the munificence of the King, by whom he was highly favoured.

Mateo Perez de Aleſio, a Roman by birth, was amongſt the many eminent foreigners, that migrated into Spain during the reign of Philip, though I do not find that he came thither by invitation of the King, or that he executed any thing at the Eſcorial: His great work was a magnificent freſco on the ſubject of St. Chriſtopher in the cathedral of Seville, which thoſe, who have viſited that church, ſpeak of with rapture. It will be ſufficient for me to obſerve of this artiſt (whoſe hiſtory authors of better information have already recorded) that after abiding [109] ſome time in Spain, where he was held in univerſal eſtimation, he departed for Italy, candidly declaring, that a country in poſſeſſion of ſo great a living maſter as Luis de Vargas, then reſiding at Seville, of which place he was native, could not be benefited by his talents, nor needed his aſſiſtance; and ſo high was the opinion he conceived of Vargas's ſuperior merits, that one day, whilſt he was contemplating a picture by that artiſt of Adam and Eve, and obſerving upon the maſterly foreſhortening of ſome of the parts, that ſingle limb, ſaid he, pointing to the leg of Adam, is more worth than my whole Saint Chriſtopher; alluding to the great freſco painting [110] above-mentioned: On which artiſt of the two this teſtimony reflects moſt honour I leave with the reader to determine.

Federico Zucaro is well known to all, who are converſant in the hiſtories of the Italian maſters; the diſſatisfaction that his performances in Spain gave to Philip is no leſs notorious; inſomuch that his works were removed out of the Eſcorial by order of that King, and his freſco paintings in the cloyſter replaced by others of Peregrino Tibaldi. Whether Philip's expectations were raiſed too high by the report his emiſſaries in Italy had made of Zucaro's talents, or whether the vanity of the man diſguſted him, which might [111] well be the caſe, ſo it was, that of all the artiſts employed at the Eſcorial, he alone fell ſhort in execution and failed of ſucceſs. At the ſame time, that Philip diſmiſſed him from his ſervice, he compenſated him in ſo princely a manner for his undertaking, that I am inclined to think upon the evidence of ſome letters, which paſſed between the King and his ambaſſador at Rome Don Juan de Zuniga and the Conde de Olivares, that the payments made to Zucaro were larger, than to any other painter, which came into Spain; but however he might profit in reſpect of intereſt, he certainly was a conſiderable loſer in point of reputation by his adventure: Sen̄or, [112] ſays Zucaro, as he was diſplaying a painting of the Nativity for the great altar at the Eſcorial, you now behold all that art can execute; beyond this, which I have done, the powers of painting cannot go: The King was ſilent for a time, and ſo unmoved, that neither approbation nor contempt could be determined from the expreſſion of his countenance; at laſt, preſerving ſtill the ſame indifference, he aſked if thoſe were eggs, which one of the ſhepherds, in the act of running, carried in his baſket; the painter anſwered him they were: 'Tis well he did not break them, ſaid the King, and turned away; the picture was diſmiſſed. Upon another occaſion, when Philip expreſſed [113] his diſſatisfaction with a compoſition Zucaro had made upon the ſubject of the Viſitation, he excuſed himſelf by ſaying it was painted by his ſcholars; Philip deſired him to paint the ſame ſubject with his own hand; he did ſo, and the ſecond work fell ſhort of the firſt, and Philip remained ſtill more diſſatisfied than before. At length he gave him his diſmiſſion, paying him, as I before obſerved, with an extraordinary munificence. Antonio El Obrero, who had been inſtrumental in recommending him to the King, kiſſed his Majeſty's hand on the occaſion, and returned him thanks for his extraordinary bounty to Zucaro: It is not Zucaro, replied the King, that is in [114] fault, the blame is their's, who recommended him. Peregrin Tibaldi, or Peregrin of Bologna, was a copyiſt of the grand ſtile of Michael Angelo, and, as Palomino informs us, his ſcholar; but according to the teſtimony of Zanoti, whoſe authority is to be preferred, he ſtudied under Bagnacabalo. Philip ſent for him to paint the lower cloyſter of the Eſcorial in freſco, having expunged the unſucceſsful attempts of Zucaro; Peregrino acquitted himſelf of this invidious taſk to the entire ſatisfaction of his royal employer; the figures are models of correctneſs, and drawn in a free and maſterly ſtile, with great attention to truth and nature: In theſe paintings he has [115] treated the ſubjects of the Purification, the Flight into Egypt, the Slaughter of the Innocents, Chriſt in the Temple, the Temptations in the Wilderneſs, the Election of the Apoſtles, the Reſurrection of Lazarus, the Expulſion of the Money-changers out of the Temple and the various paſſages of the Paſſion and Reſurrection of the Saviour, with other ſubjects of ſacred hiſtory. The cloyſter is of the conventual ſort, ſad and gloomy, and neither very ſpacious nor lofty; it was, when I ſaw it, very uncleanly, and I found it in the ſame condition upon repeated viſits: The freſcos have received great injury, not only from time and climate, but from actual violence [116] and notorious want of care; their effect in my opinion is by no means pleaſing, whether owing to the cauſe above-mentioned, or the dry harſh uniformity of the colouring, of a red and bricky hue, unrelieved by any accompaniment, or compartment, and the ſizes diſproportionate to the cloyſter, which as I before obſerved is neither lofty nor wide: I have no doubt they would make a conſpicuous figure as engravings, and the date of their exiſtence might be thereby prolonged; but that I conceive will reach its final period without reprieve of this, or any other ſort. Several paintings of Peregrino are to be ſeen in the great church, particularly a St. Michael with the [117] Fall of the Angels, a Martyrdom of San Lorenzo and two very grand compoſitions of the Nativity and Adoration, which he executed to replace thoſe of Zucaro on the ſame ſubjects, which Philip had rejected: The paintings in the Sagrario are by Peregrino on the ſubject of Abraham and Melchiſedech; but what above all things elſe eſtabliſhes his reputation in Spain is the cieling of the Library: In this compoſition the painter has perſonified the Arts and Sciences in different compartments; the four Doctors of the church, with ſeveral eminent antient philoſophers, Socrates, Plato, Ariſtotle and Seneca, accompanied with all their proper attributes and [118] inſignia, interſperſed with many beautiful groupes of children and figures in the nude, ſupporting the cornice and feſtoons, in various poſtures and foreſhortenings of grand force and expreſſion in the ſtile of Michael Angelo, in perfect drawing and admirable perſpective. Peregrino was liberally rewarded by Philip and returning to Italy died at Milan in 1600, aged 73 years.

In the ſame year died Romuh Cincinnato the Florentine; he alſo was one of Philip's painters, and contributed to illuminate this aera of arts and ſciences by a reſidence of many years in Spain, during which he made many excellent paintings, particularly in freſco, not only in the Eſcorial, but alſo [119] at Guadalaxara in the palace of the Duque del Infantado, a grandee of an illuſtrious family. In the Eſcorial part of the great cloyſter is painted by Romulo Cincinnato; in the church there are ſeveral of his paintings, particularly one of San Geronimo reading, and another of the ſame Saint, dictating to his diſciples, and in the choir two freſco paintings, taken from paſſages in the life of San Lorenzo; alſo a picture in the chapel of San Mauricio, appertaining to that church: In the Jeſuits' church at Cuenca there is a Circumciſion of his painting greatly celebrated, particularly for the admirable effect in the foreſhortening of one of the figures, which [120] is repreſented with his back turned to the ſpectator; of this he was ſo conſcious, that he is reported to have declared that he prized one limb of this figure above all his paintings in the Eſcorial. He died in the year 1600 in an advanced age univerſally eſteemed and lamented.

In this year Caeſar Arbaſia came into Spain upon the invitation of Pablo de Ceſpedes canon of Cordova, with whom he had formed an intimacy at Rome: He remained in Cordova long enough to paint the cieling of the cathedral and returned into Italy.

Bartolome de Carducho accompanied his maſter Zucaro into Spain and was employed in the Eſcorial: [121] He was a native of Florence and of great eminence in his art; he was concerned with Peregrin de Bolonia in painting the famous cieling of the library; the figures of Ariſtotle, Euclid, Archimedes and Cicero are his, and do him high honour both for their execution and deſign: Part of the freſco in the cloyſters is of his painting, and gave entire ſatisfaction to Philip, who rewarded him with two hundred ducats over and above his ſalary, and when Carducho was invited into France by order of his moſt Chriſtian Majeſty, Philip expreſt ſuch regret at the propoſal of his departure, that he excuſed himſelf to the French Ambaſſador [...]n the handſomeſt manner he could, [122] and continued in Spain. There is no doubt but Carducho paſſed ſome time at Valladolid, where ſeveral of his pictures are remaining; he painted alſo ſome pictures for the palace of Madrid, particularly one of the Laſt Supper, and another on the ſubject of the Circumciſion, which is an excellent performance; but the picture, which of all others eſtabliſhes his reputation in Spain, is a Deſcent from the Croſs, which now hangs in a ſmall chapel near the ſide door of the church of San Phelipe el Real in Madrid; a piece of ſuch ſuperior execution, that it may well be taken for one of Raphael's. In the church of San Geronimo in the ſecond chapel on the right hand there is an excellent [123] figure of San Franciſco, the ſeraphic Patriarch, in which according to cuſtom he is repreſented wounded; there is alſo in the chapel of the old palace at Segovia a very reſpectable compoſition of this painter on the ſubject of the Adoration of the Magi, and another over it with the ſuppoſed repreſentation of the Padre Eterno. Carducho continued in Spain ſeveral years after the death of Philip the ſecond, and was appointed by the ſucceeding King Philip the third to paint a gallery in the palace of the Pardo; the ſubject was to be taken from the life and actions of the Emperor Charles: Carducho begun the work, but died at the Pardo, aged 50 years, before [124] he had made any great progreſs in the completion of it. His brother Vicencio, who had ſtudied with him, undertook to finiſh the gallery, which he did, but took the hiſtory of Achilles inſtead of that of Charles the Vth. Bartolome Carducho was not only an eminent painter, but a ſtatuary and architect; he was alſo a man of an exemplary character, patient and content with a little, a hard ſtudent and exceedingly induſtrious in his profeſſion: He was much in favour with Philip the IId and his ſon, but he does not appear to have ſhared much of their liberality, though we hear of a gratuity from Philip the IId, of which I have already [125] taken notice. He died in the year 1610.

I have now enumerated the moſt eminent painters employed by Philip the IId in the Royal monaſtery of San Lorenzo; it remains to ſay ſomething of the contemporary artiſts, who were not engaged in his ſervice at the Eſcorial; and of theſe one of the firſt in time and of the moſt diſtinguiſhed in point of merit was the celebrated Blas de Prado, a Caſtilian, born in the neighbourhood of Toledo, and educated in the academy of Berruguete. Some of his paintings are to be found in the city of Toledo, particularly in the chapel dedicated to San Blas, but in general they have [126] ſuffered great injury by length of time and unfavourable expoſures; in the churches and convents at Madrid I have been ſhewn ſome compoſitions of Blas de Prado, particularly in the pariſh church of San Pedro a Deſcent from the Croſs, which is evidently the work of a great maſter. In the early part of his life, he paſſed into Africa upon the ſolicitation of the Emperor of Morocco to take a portrait of his daughter, and paſſed ſome time at that court in high favour; returning into Spain much enriched by his expedition Blas de Prado died at the age of 60 in the year 1557 in the city of Madrid.

Sofonisba Anguſciola of Cremona, with her three ſiſters, paſſed ſome [127] years in Spain in the houſhold of Queen Iſabella: I have ſeen a letter written by Sofonisba to Pope Pius the fourth, dated from Madrid the 17th of September 1561, tranſmitting a portrait of the Queen above mentioned, the receipt of which his Holineſs acknowledges by an anſwer from Rome of the 15th day of the ſucceeding month, highly extolling her performance, and aſſuring her that he has placed it amongſt his moſt ſelect pictures, expreſſing at the ſame time much paternal affection for the illuſtrious lady, which it ſo exactly repreſents. Palomino thinks, that Sofonisba died at Madrid in 1575, aged ſomewhat more than fifty years; this circumſtance he mentions [128] doubtfully, but perhaps it is cleared up by Vaſari, whoſe account of her I have not read. Theſe examples will ſerve to ſhew that the fair ſex had their ſhare of fame at this illuſtrious aera of the arts; the religious orders alſo ſubſcribed to the national ſtock of genius many eminent names; in particular Father Nicolas Fattor, a Franciſcan monk, born in the city of Valencia; Pablo de Ceſpedes of Cordova, a dignitary in that church, Father Franciſco Galeas, of the order of Carthuſians, a native of Seville, and Father Juan de la Miſeria, a Carmelite friar, by birth a Neapolitan; of theſe Ceſpedes was the moſt eminent, a man of ſuch diffuſive talents, that there is [129] ſcarce a branch of literature in which he was not profoundly verſed: He had a deep knowledge of the oriental and claſſic languages, and ſpoke ſeveral of the living ones: He compoſed many works, which his modeſty withheld from the world, and ſome, that he publiſhed: Amongſt the latter is a treatiſe on the antiquities of his church, proving it to have been a temple of Janus, and explaining many emblems and inſcriptions in proof of his poſition. In the art of painting, whether in reſpect of theory or practice, Ceſpedes holds his rank with the very firſt names Spain has to boaſt of; in purſuit of this ſtudy he went twice to Rome, and formed his [130] ſtile upon the model of the great Michael Angelo, not in painting only, but in architecture and ſculpture alſo; in both which, by the happy fertility of his genius, he acquired great fame. It was his practice to model the heads of his principal figures, when he was engaged in any great hiſtorical compoſition, and ſeveral of theſe are yet to be found in his native city of Cordova. When he was at Rome he ſupplied a head to a famous antique trunk of his countryman Seneca in white marble, and acquitted himſelf ſo happily in this arduous undertaking, that he was generally thought to have excelled the original, and, in teſtimony of his triumph, the Romans [131] cauſed to be engraved upon it the following words—Victor it Spagnuolo. He compoſed a treatiſe, in which he compares the antient and modern art and practice of painting: His contemporaries ſpeak of this work in high ſtrains, but it is unfortunately loſt to the world, together with one in verſe on the general ſubject of painting; for the talents of this extraordinary man, amidſt the circle of arts and ſciences, which they embraced, are reported to have excelled in that of poetry. Ceſpedes compoſed ſeveral pictures during his reſidence at Rome, and in the church of the Holy Trinity he was employed amongſt the principal artiſts of the time, and left there [132] ſome paintings in freſco of diſtinguiſhed excellence: Amongſt theſe artiſts Federico Zucaro was engaged, with whom Ceſpedes formed an intimate and laſting friendſhip; as I have been led to give ſome inſtances of Zucaro's vanity on a former occaſion, I am more happy in recording, to the credit of his candour and modeſty, that, when he was applied to by the Biſhop and Chapter of Cordova for a painting of Santa Margarita, to be affixed to the high altar of the cathedral, he peremptorily declined the commiſſion, giving for anſwer, that while Pablo de Ceſpedes was in Spain, there would be no occaſion to ſend into Italy for pictures: Though the works of [133] Ceſpedes are diſperſed in Seville and the cities of Andaluſia, it is in Cordova, that we muſt expect to find his principal performances, particularly his famous compoſition of the Laſt Supper in the high church: Palomino gives this picture great commendation for the nice diſcrimination of characters in Chriſt and his diſciples, and relates a circumſtance of the diſguſt, which Ceſpedes conceived from the ſilly adoration of ſome of his countrymen, who were ſo enchanted with the execution of ſome vaſes and jars of porcelain introduced into the piece, that they totally overlooked the ſuperior parts of the compoſition, and, this being repeated upon ſeveral viſits by [134] the mob of ſpectators, which the fame of ſo great a work drew together, it angered him to that degree, that he would have proceeded to ſtrike out all theſe ſubſervient ornaments from his piece, iſ he had not been diverted from his purpoſe by the intreaties of his friends and the ſubmiſſion of theſe falſe and contemptible admirers. As a colouriſt, Spain never produced a painter ſuperior to Ceſpedes: In anatomy, drawing and perſpective he was peculiarly correct: His angels in the Martyrdom of Santa Catalina, a picture which he painted for the late Jeſuits' college at Cordova, are touched with all the colouring and effect of Coregio, whom he much [135] reſembled in thoſe particulars. This great man is no leſs celebrated for his extraordinary virtue, modeſty and humility, than for the variety and extent of his genius; he died at Cordova in 1608, being turned of ſeventy, and is interred in the cathedral under a ſtone, on which the following words are engraved, viz. Paulus de Ceſpedes, hujus almae eccleſiae Porcionarius. Picturae, ſculpturae, architecturae, omniumque bonarum artium, variarumque linguarum peritiſſimus, hic ſitus eſt, obiit anno Dom. MDCVIII. ſeptimo Kalendas Sextilis. Of the other religious artiſts before mentioned Father Nicolas Fattor died in the year 1588, after being admitted to a converſation [136] in perſon with our Lady of Atocha: Franciſco Galeas died in 1614, and Juan de la Miſeria two years after him: This laſt-mentioned perſon travelled into Spain, as a hermit, to viſit the tomb of the holy apoſtle Saint James, and, coming afterwards to Madrid, was taken into protection of the court, and received into the houſe of Alonſo Sanchez Coello, painter and favourite of Philip the IId, with whom he ſtudied ſeveral years, and painted many excellent pictures, chiefly portraits; amongſt theſe one, which he was admitted to draw of the perſon of Santa Tereſa the nun, by which he gained great reputation; and another of the moſt bleſſed Virgin, with which [137] he is ſaid to have performed many miracles.

Luis de Vargas was one of the greateſt painters of the ſixteenth century; he was born in Seville, and ſtudied painting in Italy, as well as in his own country; he returned to Seville, after ſeven years reſidence at Rome, and, finding himſelf excelled in his art by Antonio Florez and Pedro Campana, he returned without delay back to Rome, and, after ſerving another apprenticeſhip of ſeven years to his art, returned ſo compleat a maſter, that the famous Perez de Aleſio, contemplating his picture of our Firſt Parents in the cathedral of Seville, exclaimed in rapture at the performance, that one [138] limb of the Adam of de Vargas was worth more than the whole compoſition of his coloſſal Saint Chriſtopher; and, returning into Italy ſoon after, gave that remarkable teſtimony of his own candour and the merit of de Vargas, of which we have before taken notice.

There are ſeveral paintings by de Vargas in the famous cathedral of Seville, particularly in the tower, which was his laſt work. Luis de Vargas was not leſs remarkable for his devotion, than for his talents, and, following the example of the great emperor Charles, he uſed at his private hours to depoſit himſelf in a coffin, which he kept in his cloſet, and in that [139] poſture purſue his meditation upon death: This event, for which he uſed ſuch edifying preparation, took place in the year 1590.

In endeavouring to apportion their due degrees of merit to the ſeveral Spaniſh painters of this aera, ſo fruitful in arts, I ſenſibly feel the inſufficiency of deſcription, and have more than once deſiſted from my work in deſpair of giving any thing to the world worth its notice and acceptance. The deſcription of a picture, like that of a battle, rarely brings its object before the reader, though it be ever ſo ſcientifically executed: I know no method of ſpeaking intelligibly on the ſubject of any particular Spaniſh [140] painter, whoſe name and character are unknown to the reſt of Europe, except by comparing him with ſome artiſt of general notoriety; and yet Spain has produced ſome, whoſe manner is ſo much their own, that it will not be illuſtrated by any known compariſon; of this ſort was the great artiſt whom I am next to mention, Juan Baua. Juanes, a native of Valencia; a man, whoſe celebrity would rank with that of the firſt artiſts of the age of Leo X, if his works laid in the track of travellers, or by happy emancipation could be ſet at liberty, and made to circulate through the cabinets of Europe. Juanes, like Morales, ſelected his ſubjects, [141] without an inſtance to the contrary, from the moſt ſacred paſſages of revelation; but his life, unlike that of Morales, was in uniſon with the purity and auſterity of his taſte; prepared by confeſſion and faſting, he firſt approached the altar before he viſited the eaſel; painting with him was an act of piety and devotion: The characters, which filled his canvaſs, were of the holieſt ſort, and, as he gave them life, he gave them adoration: As the exerciſe of his art was in him an office of devotion, ſo his moderation kept him from engaging in any private commiſſions with a view to gain; and I am inclined to doubt if any picture of Juanes is at this hour in lay poſſeſſion: [142] Both Pacheco, and Laurentio Surio give him high encomiums; theſe he moſt unqueſtionably merits, but credulity will never go ſuch lengths upon their authority, or that of Palomino, as to rank him not only before Morales, but above Rafael himſelf: As there is much to be aſcribed to national prejudice, ſo there is ſomething to be excuſed in it: Certain it is, the pictures of Juanes are finiſhed with aſtoniſhing truth, colouring and beauty; though they are laboured to a minuteneſs, that lets not even a hair eſcape, ſtill their force is unimpaired, and the ſublimity of deſign ſuffers no prejudice by the delicacy of its execution; as every work is the work of the heart, [143] nothing is neglected or left, every figure is laboured into life, and the labour is the labour of love, not the taſk of the hireling: It is greatly to be lamented, that theſe precious remains are ſhut in the convents of Valencia, without any hope of delivery and that free diſplay, of which the mortmain of ſuperſtition ſeems for ever to deprive them. In the ſacriſty of the church of San Pedro in Valencia there will be found a Chriſt by Juanes, a San Sebaſtian and a San Franciſco de Paula in the convent of the laſt-named order: In the chapel of San Franciſco de Borja there is a Santa Ines, and in the chapel of Santo Thomas de Villanueva, belonging to the Auguſtine [144] monks of San Julian, there are three grand compoſitions by this maſter; that in the middle on the ſubject of the Nativity, with the Martyrdom of Santa Ines on one ſide and the Burial of a devout prieſt of that chapel, named Moſes Bauta. Agneſio on the other ſide. As ſoon as you enter the cathedral of Valencia, on your left hand hangs a picture of the Baptiſm of Chriſt in the river Jordan by this artiſt; he has introduced the perſons of ſome Saints, preſent at this ſcene, by privileged anachroniſm; as Rafael has done in his famous Madona del Pez in the Eſcorial: This compoſition of Juanes is entirely in the ſtile of the great maſter above-mentioned; [145] the heads are excellent, the expreſſion juſt and natural, and the execution delicate in the higheſt degree; the glory above, with the Padre eterno and the groupe of Seraphim is managed with infinite art and effect. That Juanes was a copyiſt of Rafael appears from the example of a Holy Family, painted by him, now in the cathedral of Valencia, in which the Nino Jeſus is an exact tranſcript of that in Rafael's Madona del Pez, but touched with all the ſpirit of an original; many other paintings of Juanes will be found in Valencia; but care muſt be taken to diſtinguiſh his true pictures, as ſeveral of his ſcholars have paſſed their works under his name; that, [146] for which he is chiefly celebrated, is his compoſition on the ſubject of the Immaculate Conception in the late college of the Jeſuits in that city; this picture is the object of general veneration, and by the devout and credulous conſidered as an actual original, or very little removed from an original; for the tradition runs, that it was painted by the order of Father Martin Alberto, to whom the bleſſed Virgin condeſcended to appear on the eve of the Aſſumption, and required the holy Father to cauſe her portrait to be taken in the dreſs ſhe then wore, which was a white frock, or tunic, with a blue cloak, together with the following accompaniments, viz. at [147] her feet the moon, over head the Padre eterno and her moſt bleſſed Son, in the act of placing a crown on her head, with the Holy Ghoſt, in the form of a dove, hovering over the groupe. Alberto, who was all obedience to the ſacred viſitor, communicated to Juanes the honourable office of fulfilling the commands, which he himſelf was unable to execute: the devout painter ſate to work with extraordinary preparations for the taſk, and, having ſketched a groupe after the deſcription of Alberto, preſented it to the Father for his opinion; the firſt deſign being found imperfect and unlike, Juanes was incited to addreſs himſelf to the undertaking with freſh and more [148] elaborate acts of penitence and contrition; no auſterities deterred Juanes; whilſt the Father aſſiſted him with his prayers the work ſucceeded, for every touch was ſanctified, and his pencil, like a ſword bleſt and made invincible by the Pope, never miſſed its ſtroke. Some intervals there were, in which the work ſtood ſtill, and then the painter would ſit looking and pondering on his canvaſs, till the happy inſpiration ſeized him and the prayers of Father Alberto gave him fortitude and vigour to reſume the taſk. Pacheco relates an anecdote ſo much to the credit of the parties concerned, that it would be wrong to omit it; which is, that the pious Juanes, being [149] one day ſeated on a ſcaffold at work upon the upper parts of this picture, the frame gave way, and the painter, being in the act of falling, the holy perſonage, whoſe portrait he had finiſhed, ſtept ſuddenly forward out of the canvaſs, and, ſeizing his hand, preſerved him from the fall: This being done, and Juanes ſafe landed on the floor, the gracious Lady with all poſſible compoſure returned to her poſt, and has continued there ever ſince, diſpenſing her favours to her ſupplicants and worſhippers, and is univerſally believed, upon the teſtimony of Alberto, to be an exact counterpart of the original; and indeed, if we admit the circumſtance of the reſcue, I do not [150] ſee how we can diſpute the likeneſs, which I ſhould gueſs, from the ſame circumſtance, had not erred on the unfavourable ſide: With legends of this ſort Pacheco's book is filled; a ſpecimen or two will ſerve to ſhew the credulity and ſuperſtition of the time: I ſhall give this very ſparingly, and I hope without offence to the opinions of any reaſonable man. This great artiſt died in 1579, in the town of Bocairente in Valencia, after having painted the great altar of that church, which was his laſt work. In the year 1581 his body was removed agreeable to his laſt will and teſtament to the pariſh church of Santa Cruz in Valencia from that of Bocairente [151] attended by a conſiderable train of ſecular prieſts and others. Reduced by religious auſterities and mortifications, he died at the age of fifty-ſix years: By his piety he merited a place in the calendar of Saints, by his genius a name amongſt the firſt claſs of his art; high in the ſchool of Rafael at leaſt, if not on a level with the great maſter himſelf.

Juan Labrador a Spaniard, was a ſcholar of the Divino Morales and the beſt painter of fruits and flowers and of ſtill-life in general, that Spain ever produced; he died in 1600 at Madrid at a very advanced age.

Juan Pantoia de la Cruz was born in Madrid, and ſtudied under the [152] celebrated Alonſo Sanchez Coello, whom he ſucceeded as painter of the chamber to Philip the IId; he chiefly excelled in portraits and died in 1610.

I have now nearly enumerated the principal artiſts, who flouriſhed in Spain during the reign of Philip the ſecond; that prince died in September 1598, at his favourite monaſtery of San Lorenzo in the moſt deplorable and loathſome ſtate of miſery, to which human nature can be reduced before its actual diſſolution: It muſt be acknowledged he was a liberal protector of the arts; the great work of the Eſcorial, in which his pride and ſuperſtition engaged him, gave occupation and diſplay to many [153] eminent men: The genius; which this encouragement called up, appears to have loſt none of its force during the reign of his ſon and ſucceſſor Philip the IIId. Artiſts of diſtinguiſhed abilities will be found in this period. Bartolome Gonzalez, a native of Valladolid and a diſciple of Patricio Caxes, came to Madrid in 1606, and was made King's painter upon his arrival; he made many portraits of the Auſtrian family for the palace of the Pardo in a very excellent ſtile; though he was of an advanced age, when he entered into the ſervice of King Philip the IIId. for he died at the age of ſixty-three, in the year 1611, in the city of Madrid.

Juan de Solo and Juan de Chiſinos [154] were natives of Madrid, both eminent artiſts and both died in the year 1620. In the ſame year died El Doctor Pablo de las Roellas of Seville, and the Cartuſian monk Padre Luis Paſqual Gaudin, born at Villafranca in Biſcay; the former of theſe was a ſcholar of Titiano's, and left many reſpectable monuments of his art at Cordova and Seville. Phelipe de Liano was born at Madrid, was a ſcholar of Alonſo Sanchez Coello, and became ſo famous for portraits of a ſmall ſize, which he executed with ſuch ſpirit, that he got the name of El Ticiano Pequino; he died in 1625: This year was alſo fatal to the famous Patricio Caxes, a noble Florentine, in the ſervice of Philip [155] the IIId. who engaged him to paint the Queen's gallery at the Pardo in freſco. The ſtory which Caxes choſe was that of Joſeph and the wife of Potiphar, a ſubject not very flattering to female delicacy, but it periſhed with many other works of art in the lamentable fire, which conſumed that palace.

Dominico Teotocopoli, commonly called El Greco, flouriſhed in this aera; there are many remains of his art, both as painter, ſtaruary and architect in the cities of New Caſtile. He came ſo near the manner of his maſter Titiano, that many of his pictures have paſſed upon the world under that character; this it ſeems was not fame ſufficient for the vanity of Dominico; but in his [156] efforts at originality he has expoſed himſelf to the ridicule of all good judges: When he departs from Titiano, he departs from nature and ſubſtitutes in her ſtead an extravagance of deſign, with ſo faulty a mode both of colouring and drawing, that he is no longer the ſame maſter: Of this ſort are his paintings in the convent of Donna Maria de Aragon at Madrid, and the picture which he drew for the Eſcorial by order of Philip the IId. on the ſubject of the martyrdom of San Mauricio and his companions: Philip was too good a judge not to ſee the extravagance of his compoſition, and refuſed it a place in his collection; Dominico Greco made humble ſuit to ſave the credit [157] of his work, and it is likely was convinced of the errors, into which he had been led by an affectation of ſingularity, for he made ſome corrections; after which his picture was, with ſome degree of difficulty, admitted to a place, though not very conſpicuous in the Sala de Capitulo; whilſt Romulo Cincinnato was deputed in his ſtead to the more honourable taſk of painting an altar-piece for the chapel of the Saint above mentioned. In the cathedral of Toledo there are ſome pictures by Dominico in his beſt manner, which are admirable performances; particularly a grand compoſition on the parting of the raiment of our Saviour before his crucifixion, which hangs in the ſacriſty, [158] and is ſo entirely in the ſtile and manner of Titiano, that his reputation could have ſuffered no injury by its adoption. In the ſame place are the twelve Apoſtles by the ſame maſter, but in an inferior ſtile. In the pariſh church of Santo Tomé is a very capital picture of Dominico's on the interment of Don-Gonzalo Ruiz of Toledo; this illuſtrious perſon, who was Conde de Orgaz, founded an Auguſtine convent under the title of San Eſtevan in the city of Toledo, in commemoration of which pious act Dominico has repreſented San Auguſtin and San Eſtevan in the act of placing his body in the tomb: This picture coſt the Cardinal Archbiſhop of Toledo, Don Gaſpar de Quiroga, two thouſand [159] ducats, a great ſum in the year 1584, when it was executed at the ſuit of the pariſh prieſt of Santo Tomé and put up in that church, which, as well as the convent before mentioned, was founded by this noble and devout perſon: This picture, and that on the parting of our Saviour's raiment are the moſt capital performances of this author in Spain; there are various others however both at Toledo and Madrid, but chiefly at the former city, which would well repay the curioſity of a traveller: At Illeſcas, which is half way between the ſaid cities, the church of the Hoſpital de la Caridad was deſigned by Dominico, and is, with its altars, carvings [160] and paintings, a very reſpectable proof of his merit, in the ſeveral elegant arts which he profeſſed: He was near eighty years old, when he died at Toledo in 1635, and was interred in the pariſh church of San Bartolomé. Dominico Greco was the firſt painter in Spain, who had the ſpirit to oppoſe the exaction of a royal tax upon the pictures painted and ſold by living maſters, which he litigated and obtained a favourable decree.

Diego de Romulo Cincinnato was ſon and ſcholar of the elder Romulo, painter to Philip the IId; he entered into the ſervice of Don Fernando Enriquez de Ribera, third Duke of Alcala, and went with him to Rome, when he was appointed [161] ambaſſador extraordinary from Philip the IVth, for the purpoſe of doing homage to Pope Urban the VIIIth; he painted his Holineſs three ſeveral times, and ſo much to his ſatisfaction, with ſuch applauſe from all the artiſts at Rome, that he was rewarded with many handſome preſents and made a Knight of Chriſt in Portugal, where the ceremony was performed by Cardinal Trexo Parriagua, a Spaniard: This was done in preſence of the Duke of Alcala, his patron, in the houſe of the Cardinal before-mentioned, who gave him a gold chain and the medal of the order: This paſſed in December of the year 1625, and in the year following this ingenious [162] artiſt died in the city of Rome, and was buried in the church of San Lorenzo, with all the ceremonials due to a Knight of the order and a man of ſo diſtinguiſhed a genius. Philip the IVth of Spain had the conſideration to ſolicit his Holineſs to transfer the dignity of Knight of Chriſt to Franciſco the brother of Diego, which was accordingly done.

Franciſco and Juan Ribalta were father and ſon, born in Valencia, and painters of ſuch equal eminence, that it is exceedingly difficult to diſtinguiſh their reſpective hands; the father's pictures are however rather more finiſhed than thoſe of the ſon's, which, on their part, have the advantage in [163] force and effect: In many of his pictures he appears to have propoſed his countryman Juanes for his model, and ſometimes paints ſo like his contemporary Vicencio Carducho the Florentine, as ſcarce to be diſtinguiſhed from him; of this ſort is his picture of the Laſt Supper on the high altar of the college of the Patriarch in Valencia, which, if compared with that of Carducho on the ſame ſubject upon the high altar of the church of the nuns of Corpus Chriſti in Madrid, will be found ſo exactly correſponding in ſtile and manner, that both might paſs for the work of either maſter. One of the beſt works of Ribalta in Valencia is a dead Chriſt in the hall of the chapter-houſe [164] of the Carmelitiſh convent, copied from Sebaſtian del Piombo, the original of which is in the Royal collection: In this ſame place are two other copies from Piombo of admirable execution. It is related of Franciſco Ribalta, that, having painted a crucifixion for the Pope's nuncio in Spain, the picture was carried to Rome, and, upon being ſhewn to an eminent painter in that city, he immediately exclaimed—O Divino Rafaelo! judging it to be a capital performance of that maſter; upon being told of his miſtake by the nuncio, he proceeded to examine it afreſh with great attention, and concluded with a common Spaniſh proverb, Que verdaderamente [165] donde yeguas hay patros nacen; viz. Where there are mares there will be colts; importing, that all countries may at times produce extraordinary men. Franciſco Ribalta died in Valencia in 1600, and his ſon in 1630; he had the honour of being the firſt maſter of Ribera called Span̄olet.

Adriano of Cordova was a lay brother of the barefooted Carmelites; his works are few and confined to the city abovementioned; the chief compoſition is a crucifixion, in which he has introduced the mother of Chriſt, San Juan and la Magdalena, with other figures of half length, in the manner of Rafael Sadeler, to whom he was greatly attached; this picture [166] is in the antichamber to the ſacriſty of the Carmelitiſh convent at Cordova, in which city Adriano died in the year 1630. This artiſt was ſo diffident of himſelf, that he uſed to deface or deſtroy his pictures, as ſoon as he had executed them; and ſo general was this practice with him, that his friends took occaſion to intercede with him for the preſervation of his valuable productions in the name of the ſouls in purgatory, knowing his attachment to the holy offices in their behalf: By this mode of exorciſm, the deſtroying ſpirit, which his ſelf-diſſatisfaction had conjured up, was kept in cheek, and thanks to the ſouls in purgatory! ſome very valuable pictures [167] were reſcued from extinction by their influence and authority.

Vicencio Carducho, a Florentine, the brother and ſcholar of Bartholome Carducho, was King's painter in the reigns of Philip the IIId and IVth: He was in ſingular eſteem and favour with thoſe princes and employed in many eminent works at the palace of the Pardo; the works of this maſter are to be found in all the cities of Caſtile, in Toledo, Salamanca, Segovia, Alcala and Valladolid, as well as in Madrid, where he died in 1638; this date is aſcertained by the following memorandum, inſcribed on a picture of San Geronimo, in the great church of Alcala de Henares—Vincentius Carduchi Florentinus, [168] hic vitam non opus finin anno 1638. He died at the age of 70 years: He inſtructed the famous Rizi, who was painter to Philip the IVth and Charles the IId, and formed many other diſciples in his academy.

Philip the IIId died and was ſucceeded in 1621 by his ſon Philip the IVth, a great patron of the arts, in whoſe time flouriſhed men of very illuſtrious talents. In 1623 Charles Prince of Wales came to Madrid, upon a youthful ſally of gallantry, to throw himſelf at the feet of the Infanta, ſiſter of Philip, and conclude, as he believed, a treaty of marriage, which had been long in dependence and obſtructed by many difficulties and [169] delays: In this expedition he was accompanied by Pedro Pablo Rubens of Antwerp: This great maſter was then in his forty-ſixth year; had concluded a long courſe of ſtudy in Italy, being in high eſtimation, upon his return to Flanders, and greatly in favour with the Archduke Albert and the Infanta Donna Iſabel Clara Eugenia his ſpouſe; he had painted ſeveral pictures by order of the Emperor and of the King of England, and had viſited Paris, where, by order of Mary of Medicis, he had executed his famous paintings for the Luxembourg palace with great credit and ſucceſs. Charles had an early paſſion for the arts, and was greatly attached to his fellow [170] traveller; the honours, which the King of Spain laviſhed upon his Royal viſitor with all the profuſe magnificence, that Spaniſh gallantry could deviſe, extended themſelves to the perſon of his ingenious companion. Olivares, then the miniſter of Spain, had ſplendor, and Philip was in poſſeſſion of taſte: Rubens was in turns careſſed by both; the Royal collections of the Eſcorial, Pardo and Madrid opened to his view an inexhauſtible magazine of arts. Mr. Horace Walpole is miſtaken in thinking Rubens was in Spain, during the adminiſtration of the Duke of Lerma: This was not ſo. Rubens had ſtudied Titiano and Pablo Verones at Venice with [171] diſtinguiſhing attention; the cabinets of Philip now diſplayed ſuch ſuperb compoſitions of theſe maſters, particularly of Titiano, as equally captivated both the painter and the Prince; Rubens, by order of the Catholic King, copied the Europa, the Baths of Diana, and ſeveral other pictures of Titiano, which Charles had particularly admired; when theſe copies were finiſhed, it was expected, that Philip ſhould preſent them to the Prince of Wales, and the compliment would ſurely have been a worthy one both to Charles and to his favourite artiſt; but the generoſity of Philip meditated greater lengths, and in truth it ſcarce knew any bounds towards his [172] princely gueſt: He retained to himſelf the copies and ſent to Charles the originals. It is proper in this place to obſerve, that theſe valuable originals returned again to the poſſeſſion of the King of Spain, when Charles, by the inſtigation of Buckingham, made occaſion to diſſolve his engagements with the Infanta: to reject the ſiſter and yet to retain the preſents of the Catholic monarch would have been a conduct irreconcileable to the ſpirit and principles of Charles; though his attachment to the arts was as ardent as any man's, he had the ſentiments of a gentleman and pride of honour ſuperior even to his love of the art of painting. In [173] the event of things it has come to paſs, that Charles, inſtead of taking from the Royal ſtock in Spain, has been the means of ſome additions to it of the higheſt value. Charles, having taken his departure for England, and the high punctilio of the Spaniſh monarch having ſupported ifſelf to the lateſt moment of his abode, by erecting a pillar on the ſpot, where they parted, Rubens at the ſame time returned to Flanders; and Philip, having now compleated his hunting-ſeat of the Torre de la Prada, in the neighbourhood of Madrid, applied to that artiſt for ſeveral pictures in character with the palace, with exact deſcriptions of the ſizes of the canvaſſes and the [174] rooms and poſitions in which they were to be hung; all theſe were executed by Rubens, and tranſmitted to the King, who highly approved of them: many of the dogs and other animals in theſe hunting-pieces were put in by his ſcholars Azneira and Pedro de Vos, who excelled in that branch of the art. About this time the Conde Duque de Olivares, Philip's miniſter, had compleated his foundation of a convent of barefooted Carmelites, at the little town of Loeches, in the neighbourhood of Madrid, now belonging to his Excellency the Duque de Alba. Philip, to do a grace to his favourite and to make a merit with the religious of that order, commiſſioned [175] Rubens for ſome pictures, which he executed in his grandeſt ſtile, and richeſt glow of colours: Two of theſe, which flank the altar, are of conſiderable dimenſions, and, in point of execution, not to be exceeded by any of the maſter; the firſt is an allegorical compoſition on the Triumph of Religion, which he has perſonified and habited very gracefully: This figure is ſeated in a ſuperb triumphal carr, drawn by four angels, with others in attendance, bearing the croſs and other ſymbols, properly in character; four figures, that expreſs the various characters of Infidelity, or Ignorance, over which Religion is ſuppoſed to triumph, follow the [176] carr, like ſlaves or captives, bound with chains; whilſt the piece is crowned with beautiful cherubims, that hover over the groupe, with chaplets of various deſcriptions in their hands, diſpoſed with ſingular art and aſtoniſhing effect: The other, which companions it in ſize, is the Interview of Abraham and Melchiſedech, who offers him bread and the tenth of the ſpoils; in the drapery of the prieſts, and the armour of the ſoldiers, Rubens has exhauſted every reſource, that his fund of colouring could ſupply; there are two other pictures in this ſmall but precious collection of the ſame author, and of equal ſize and excellence with the above, that cannot [177] be paſſed over in ſilence; they hang in the choir, that on the lefthand repreſents the four Doctors of the church with Santo Thomas, San Buenaventura and Santa Clara; its companion on the oppoſite ſide repreſents the Four Evangeliſts, with their proper emblems, compoſitions of unſpeakable majeſty and expreſſion: The original ſketch of this latter piece is preſerved in the Sitio of the Buen Retiro, that of the Doctors in the palace of Madrid. It is painful to obſerve, that theſe magnificent performances are ſuffering daily for want of new ſtraining and the obvious repairs, which, if not ſpeedily applied, theſe monuments of art [178] will be in ruin: In the nave of the church there are two other large compoſitions by Rubens, the one of Elias and the Angel comforting him in the deſart, the other of the Iſraelites gathering manna; the fcenery in both theſe pictures is uncommonly beautiful, ſo is the ſky in the latter: The drapery of Elias is finely diſpoſed; but, as the painter has neglected to dreis the Prophet in the habit of a Carmelite, the holy Fathers, who claim him as the founder of their order, are not a little ſcandalized by the omiſſion. I cannot inform myſelf upon what proofs theſe rigid devotees carry up the pedigree of their order to the aſoreſaid prophet; but, whatever, flaws a ſcrupulous [179] enquirer might find in their title, this I am ſure of, that the ſtrength of their faith can make up for the weakneſs of the authority: The Angel in this piece is coloured to a miracle, and, as the Fathers do not claim to derive from him, there is no exception to the habit, which the painter has thought fit to give him. The figures in theſe pieces are above natural ſize.

The three great kingdoms of Europe (Spain, France and England) were at this time governed by the miniſters Olivares, Richelieu and Buckingham; it was the reign of favourites: Buckingham, who had more caprice and leſs genius than either of his contemporaries, [180] had nevertheleſs contracted a great eſteem for Rubens, during their expedition to Madrid; this was not directed to his profeſſional talents, but to thoſe qualities and good conduct, which undoubtedly he had, and which Buckingham ſagaciouſly enough determined to call forth, when any great occaſion ſhould preſent itſelf: Such was now in view; Buckingham was at Paris, negociating a marriage between Charles, who had lately ſucceeded to the throne, and the princeſs Mary, whom that prince had ſeen at Paris in his way to Spain, and of whoſe beauty and attractions we have ſuch ſtriking teſtimonials under the hand of Vandyke. Though Buckingham at Madrid [181] had wantonly avowed eternal enmity to the miniſter of Spain, he now entered upon a correſpondence with Rubens on the means of reconciling the kingdoms, and this produced the ſecond viſit, which that artiſt paid to Madrid in quality of ambaſſador extraordinary from the court of Bruſſels in the year 1628. He ſtaid nine months in Madrid on this negociation, and, being at times confined to his chamber by the gout in his feet, he took the opportunity of working at his eaſel; in which time he compleated eight grand pictures for the great ſaloon of the palace, of which his famous Rape of the Sabines was one, and alſo his Battle of the Romans and the Sabines. In this period, ſuch [182] was the rapidity of his pencil, that he took five ſeveral portraits of King Philip, one of which is equeſtrian and grouped with ſeveral other figures; a magnificent performance, and for which he received a magnificent reward, with the honour of knighthood, of naturalization and the golden key, as gentleman of the chamber. He painted the Infanta a half-length, and the King of the ſame ſize by commiſſion from the Arch-ducheſs Iſabella; he made five or ſix other portraits of illuſtrious perſons.

Superior to the little vain punctilios of his art, he returned with ardour to his taſk of copying the moſt capital works of Titiano in the royal poſſeſſion, ſuch as the [183] Venus and Adonis, the Venus and Cupid, the Adam and Eve and many others, with ſeveral portraits, particularly of the Landgrave, the Duke of Saxony and the great Alva; he made a conſiderable addition to his grand compoſition on the Adoration of the Magi, which now holds ſo conſpicuous a place in the Madrid collection; of all the crown of Spain poſſeſſes of the works of this eminent maſter, this picture of the Adoration appears to me the moſt ſuperb and brilliant; and his dead Chriſt in the Sala del Capitulo of the Eſcorial the moſt touching and expreſſive: I have never yet ſound any picture, that ſpeaks ſo ſtrongly to the paſſions as this laſt: [184] Amongſt the capital performances of Rafael, Titiano and others, this compoſition has attracted, and will probably continue to attract little notice or applauſe, but I am bold to believe every ſpectator, who ſhall review this wonderful collection with independent taſte and determination not to be told what he is to feel, and where he is to admire, and will ſtop a while to contemplate the tragic ſpectacle of a mangled Saviour, ſurrounded by a groupe of ſuch mourners, as ſeem to feel a ſorrow, like the object, which creates it, more than human, will own with me that Rubens in this affecting piece has touched the paſſions with ſomething more than a painter's, with a [185] poet's hand. Contemplating this picture, I could not help calling to mind the bitterneſs of Mengs' criticiſm, when he is comparing Rubens' copy of Titiano to a Dutch tranſlation of an elegant author; and in this train of thinking I could not avoid drawing a compariſon in my mind between the piece before me and that, which Mengs himſelf has compoſed on the like ſubject: The ſcene is the ſame, the actors the ſame, and the cataſtrophe not to be diverſified: But with Mengs all is lifeleſs, cold and flat; methodized by art and meaſured by rule; the groupe of an academy, ſitters for attitudes and hirelings for ſorrow; the dead body of the Chriſt is laid out and in like manner [186] expoſed to view in the one caſe as in the other, but what a contraſt! Mengs has indeed laboured hard to make a beautiful corpſe; he has rounded the muſcles, and poliſhed the ſkin, and given it ſuch a hue, that it ceaſes to be fleſh, and is a ſhining waxen figure with no trace of pain or ſufferings paſt; look upon the other, and you contemplate, as it ſhould ſeem, the very perſon, who himſelf bore our ſorrows on the tree, by whoſe ſtripes we are healed: Yet Mengs is the author, whom courtly prejudice has put above compariſon in Spain, whom not to admire is treaſon againſt ſtate, and whoſe worſhip is become canonical, a part almoſt of the orthodox idolatry [187] of their religion: Mengs is the critic, who, profeſſedly treating of the collection of pictures in the palace at Madrid, can afford no commendation or deſcription of Reubens's capital picture of the Adoration and records his name apparently with no other view but to make a needleſs ſacrifice of it to that of Titiano, whom it ſeems he had had the temerity to copy.

It is hardly to be believed, that Rubens during theſe nine months finiſhed ſeveral other conſiderable pictures, particularly his Martyrdom of the apoſtle San Andres, which now makes the altar-piece of the Flemiſh chapel, an enchanting compoſition. I have related that he arrived in Spain in the year [188] 1628; on the 26th of April in the year following he took his departure, not without many diſtinguiſhing tokens of favour from his Catholic Majeſty, by whoſe order the Conde Duque de Olivares preſented Rubens with a ring worth two thouſand ducats; he was alſo made ſecretary to the privy council at the court of Bruſſels for his life, with the ſucceſſion to his ſon Alberto, a very conſiderable benefice. Having now attended him to the time of his leaving Spain, I ſhall commit him for the remainder of his career to his more profeſſed biographers, obſerving only, that he formed a ſriendſhip in Madrid with the great Spaniſh painter Diego Velazquez de Silva, [189] which friendſhip was continued by a correſpondence, that laſted many years.

Juan del Caſtillo of Seville was a painter of eminence and in great repute as a maſter and inſtructor in the art; he had the double honour of being diſciple of Luis de Vargas, and teacher of Bartolome Murillo; the famous Alonſo Cano, and Pedro de Moya were likewiſe his ſcholars: He died at Cadiz, aged 56, in the year 1640.

At this period of time, under the foſtering auſpices of Philip the fourth, ſuch a hoſt of artiſts preſent themſelves to my view, that, whilſt I perceive the impracticability of recording all, I feel repugnance at omitting any; as I would [190] not willingly preſent to the public a mere catalogue of painters and their works, ſo neither would I ſtrain the truth of circumſtances by endeavouring at variety. In this dilemma therefore I have judged it beſt to ſelect ſome of the moſt eminent, and paſs over the leſs intereſting in ſilence; amongſt the former Eugenio Caxes undoubtedly deſerves a place, if it were only that he was found worthy to be of the liſt of King's painters, and to enter into competition with the celebrated Velazquez in the branches both of hiſtorical and portrait painting: Though he was a native of Madrid, yet his father Patricio, by whom he was educated in his art, was a [191] Florentine: Philip the fourth ſate in perſon to Eugenio, but what became of the picture, or whether it is in exiſtence, I have not been able to diſcover; it was his fate, with many others, to be eclipſed by the ſuperior luſtre of Velazquez's talents, and from the time that artiſt entered into the royal ſervice and employ, Eugenio principally employed his talents in painting for the convents and churches, who, in emulation of the court, held forth a very liberal encouragement to the arts: The convent of San Phelipe in the city of Madrid contained the chief collection of this maſter's works, where they periſhed by fire together with the convent itſelf in 1718: He was [192] jointly engaged with Vicencio Carducho in the freſcos of the Pardo, where the like fatal accident again conſumed his labours with many others equally to be lamented: He died in 1642, at the age of ſixty-five.

In the ſame year died Pedro Orrente, by others called Pedro Rente, born in Murcia, and Familiar of the Inquiſition in that city, a diſciple of Baſſan, and protected by the miniſter Olivares, who employed him in the paintings, then collecting at the palace of the Buen Retiro: Many of his works are to be found in Valencia and Cordova, and ſome at Toledo, particularly a Santa Leocadia coming out of the ſepulchre, over the [193] door of the ſacriſty of the cathedral, and in the chapel de los Reyes nuevos belonging to the ſaid church a Nativity, which companions an Adoration of the Magi by Caxes before-mentioned; both which are excellent compoſitions and finely executed: He coloured in the ſtile of his maſter, but in his choice of nature did not imitate his vulgarity of taſte; in correctneſs of drawing he has been rarely exceeded: He was buried in the pariſh church of San Bartolome at Toledo, in which he died far advanced in years, and is deſervedly to be numbered amongſt the moſt eminent Spaniards of his profeſſion.

Franciſco Fernandez and Alonſo [194] Vazquez, were the favourite diſciples, the one of Carducho and the other of the celebrated Luis d [...] Vargas: Vazquez was a native o [...] Ronda, and practiſed his art it the city of Seville: His figures in the nude are drawn with grea [...] truth and anatomical ſkill; they are ſlight and ſketch-like, bu [...] executed with effect and force [...] whilſt he was painting in Seville [...] Franciſco Pacheco (from whoſ [...] treatiſe ſome of theſe anecdote [...] are drawn) was keeping an academy in that city, with great reputation and ſucceſs; Velazquez, wh [...] afterwards roſe to ſuch high honours and favour with his King [...] was a diſciple of Pacheco's at thi [...] time, Vazquez and Pacheco wer [...] [195] rival artiſts and painted ſome pictures profeſſedly in competition for the cathedral of the convent of barefooted Carmelites, and other places; the manner of Pacheco, though learned and correct, was harſh and dry in the extreme, ſo that Vazquez was much the more popular painter of the two; and young Velazquez, who about this time married Pacheco's daughter, did not think fit to eſpouſe his taſte and formed himſelf upon other models. There is a little couplet upon a crucifix of Pacheco's, which ſatyrizes this harſhneſs of manner with ſo much ſmartneſs, and ſuch neatneſs of verſification, that I preſent it in the original to the reader:

[196]
Quien os puſo aſſi, Sen̄or,
Tan deſabrido y tan ſeco,
Vos me direis que el amor.
Mas yo digo, que Pacheco.

Nothing can be more muſical than the chime of the words, but the idea cannot be well conveyed in Engliſh. It ſeems natural for academicians like Pacheco, who are ſo much concerned in the grammar of their art, to contract a ſtiff pedantic ſtile, as was the caſe, but his pictures are ſaid to be good ſtudies, and, if he was not a painter of the firſt manner, he appears to have been a great maſter and author in his art. He was a man of liberal ſentiments, ſtrict morals and uncommon medeſty: [197] He died in Seville in 1654, having ſurvived his competitor Vazquez four years. As to Franciſco Fernandez, who was unqueſtionably one of the firſt artiſts of his time, he died in 1646 at Madrid, of which place he was a native, being killed by Franciſco de Baras in a ſudden fit of paſſion, at the age of forty-two years, univerſally regretted.

Joſeſ de Ribera, known to Europe by the name of Il Spagnoleto, was a native of Xativa in the kingdom of Valencia; a country rich in natural productions and of a moſt happy temperature in point of climate: In this particular it has been frequently compared to Greece, and, like Greece, [198] has been found uncommonly preliric in giving birth to men of genius and talents. How far the growth and culture of the human mind may, like vegetable nature, depend upon the ſkiey influences, there is no need at preſent to enquire; the ſeeds of genius, like thoſe of any other tender plant, may well be ſuppoſed ſuſceptible of nutrition, advancement or repreſſion, by the operations of the atmoſphere; and if this obtains in the general, I think we may conclude for it more ſtrongly in favour of the particular art now under conſideration, than of any other perhaps in the whole catalogue of human ſtudy or invention: Painting, which is an operation [199] manual as well as mental, demands the joint vigour and exertion of body and mind; it ſhould ſeem that there is in demand a force of atmoſphere to brace the corporeal ſyſtem and at the ſame time ſuch a degree of genial warmth and relaxation of climate, as ſhall give imagination its full play and ſcope; theſe can only be obtained in thoſe happy latitudes, where our ſcene is now laid. It is needleſs perhaps to obſerve, that there muſt be proper lights for the creation of the art and there ſhould be a commodious temperature for their preſervation and continuance: Theſe are to be had in their higheſt perfection in Spain, as well as Greece. If the Icelander [200] in his native climate ever ſhould experience the impulſe of a painter's genius, the year itſelf would not ſupply many hours in which his fingers could obey its ſummons; and in the other extremity of climate, where every fibre is unſtrung by relaxation, all, who have experienced, know the inaptitude both of mind and body towards any action or employ of either; unfit alike for arts and arms, the emaſculate and ſoft inhabitant ſinks into ſloth and ſlumbers away a life, that ſcarce deſerves a better name than vegetation. Upon the whole I think we may admit, that there are ſome portions of the habitable earth, where nature has declared herſelf againſt the production [201] of painters, and no portion yet diſcovered where an aſſemblage of more happy requiſites ever centered, than in the climate and country, in which the artiſt now before us had his birth.

It may be proper to obſerve, that, although there cannot be found amongſt the Spaniſh painters a greater inſtance of poverty in the extreme, than what Ribera experienced, yet his pretenſions in reſpect of family were as high and his blood as pure as moſt in Spain: This pride of pedigree is there to the full as much at heart, and as ceremoniouſly maintained amongſt men in the laſt degree of worldly miſery, as it is with the rich and great. [202] To enumerate a line of anceſtors, unadulterated with Mooriſh or Jewiſh blood, and not made vile by any ignoble and diſhonourable trades, is the glory of an old Caſtilian, though in rags and wretchedneſs: The houſe of Ribera, tho' it had branched into Valencia, was in its original rooted in the pure terra firma of Old Caſtile; and I dare ſay his parents would as ſoon have brought up their ſon to the occupation of a hangman, as apprenticed him to the trade of a ſhoemaker: This is amongſt the occupations, which an old Spaniard calls diſhoneſt, and by which he would as effectually pollute his blood, as an Indian would forfeit his caſt by eating hog's-fleſh out [203] of the unclean platter of a Portugueſe: To be a mender of ſhoes, or in vulgar phraſe a cobler, is no degradation to a Spaniard's dignity; but to be a maker of them in the firſt inſtance is corrupt and vile, and ſuch an artiſan cannot conſort or intermarry with the perſons, that are uncontaminated with any thing but poverty and ver min.

With theſe principles, and no other earthly poſſeſſion for his inheritance young Ribera entered himſelf a diſciple of Franciſco de Ribalta, as I have already related; how long he continued, or how far he proceeded to form the peculiarities of his taſte under the tuition of this maſter, I cannot preciſely aſcertain; [204] he was certainly very young, when he firſt went to Rome, becauſe it was there he firſt received the puerile appellation of Il Spagnoleto, or the Little Spaniard; and that this was in early time is alſo manifeſt from other reaſons: As for his ſingularity in chuſing ſubjects of terror and expreſſions of pain, that was not owing to the infuſions of precept, or the effect of imitation, but was in him at once characteriſtic and original. He had a ſtrong mind hardened by adverſity and naturally ſuperior to thoſe paſſions, which, though ſoft and enervating, have operated to produce the beautiful in art. In the ſublime and terrific Ribera ſtands forth as a great maſter: In [205] tragic compoſitions, the diſtortions of agonized nature, and in the ſtrong and horrible reliefs of the deepeſt lights and ſhades he is eminently diſtinguiſhed: England is in poſſeſſion of ſo many examples in this caſt of the author, that I ſhall not enter into a minute deſcription of his works in Spain; but I cannot diſpenſe with myſelf from obſerving, that he is capable of expreſſing his ideas with uncommon elegance and delicacy: Some of the characters of his Baptiſt, ſome Magdalens and Madonas, which I have met, are equal in grace and tenderneſs of expreſſion to the beſt heads of Guido and Guercino: I confeſs my ſurprize was great in diſcovering him in a [206] character, which was new and unknown to me before I went to Spain; at the ſame time in a private cloſet at the Eſcorial, where there is an altar belonging to the Prior, and to which admittance is rarely allowed, I felt equal ſurprize and delight at being ſhewn a ſmall Holy Family by Michael Angelo Bonarota, finiſhed and coloured to a miracle. In this ineſtimable little piece the face of the Madona is of a moſt ſingular caſt, ſuch as I had never before ſeen; extremely beautiful, but not by the reſult of the correcteſt ſymmetry of ſeatures; for the face is lengthened beyond its proportion, by which and other means, with a peculiar action of the eyes and muſcles an [207] expreſſion is obtained, which at the ſame time that it exceeds nature, does not violate it; appearing to be at once above, and yet within it.

Young Ribera, though ſuffering the extreme of poverty, felt within himſelf ſuch powers of genius, as were ſuperior to depreſſion, and in the ſchool of Ribalta meditated an excurſion to Rome, there to receive the laſt finiſhings of education in his art: Thither he repaired, and, enliſting himſelf in the academy, purſued his ſtudies with an induſtry, which knew no remiſſion, but whilſt he was in purſuit of the ſcanty neceſſaries for the demands of life; theſe he obtained by the ſale of ſome of his ſketches and drawings [208] in the academy. Without friends and at times almoſt without food or raiment, he perſiſted in his courſe with a ſtubborn virtuous perſeverance, which nothing could divert from its object; if ſuch a mind and imagination are found to delight in images of ſavage greatneſs and terrific ſublimity, it is little to be wondered at, and a greater proof of his excellence cannot be given, than the high eſtimation, in which his pieces of the character above-mentioned continue to be held, notwithſtanding the falſe effeminate delicacy of modern taſte and faſhion in pictures, now prevailing in England, which diſcourages all attempts at tragedy in painting and [209] ſhrinks from an Ugolino and Prometheus with as much dread and horror, as a modern petite maitreſſe would from the ſpectacle of a bullfight. Such an academician as young Ribera could not long remain undiſtinguiſhed in the maſs of common ſtudents; Rome was not a place, where merit could be long hidden, nor was his merit of a ſort, that could be concealed any where; his fellow-ſtudents and teachers ſoon diſcovered the ſuperiority of his talents, and par excellence gave him the name of Il Spagnoleto; and a certain Cardinal, one day paſſing in his coach, obſerved a tattered figure employed in painting a board, affixed to the outſide of one of the ordinary [210] houſes in the ſtreets of Rome; the youth and wretchedneſs of the ſpectacle engaged his pity, and the ſingular attention, with which he purſued his work, attracted his curioſity. It was Il Spagnoleto in the act of earning his bread, of which his appearance made evident he was abſolutely in want. The Cardinal called him to his coach-ſide and, ordering him to his palace, immediately domiciliated the lucky youth. Here he lived in eaſe and affluence; but that virtue, which the frowns of fortune could not ſhake, was no proof againſt her careſſes: Young Ribera became a ſlave to pleaſures, of which he had not before even ſpeculative, enjoyment; but [211] his virtue, though repulſed, was not ſubdued; his apoſtacy from the purity of his native principles preſſed upon his conſcience, and the ruin, which his genius was now menaced with, alarmed his pride of nature; with one gallant effort he burſt the ſhackles of temptation, and, ſallying out of the palace of the Cardinal, reaſſumed his dignity of ſoul, and poverty at once: Perhaps the hiſtory of human nature will afford few examples of ſo ſtrong an act.

He had now all his former miſeries to encounter with the aggravating contraſt of experienced delights: In addition to all theſe he was to ſuffer the reproaches of his protector, who, occaſionally meeting [212] him, upbraided his ingratitude in the ſevereſt terms: The virtuous Spaniard made a ſuitable reply, and, cheering himſelf with the reſources of his art and the applauſes of his conſcience, perſiſted in his poverty. The clear obſcure of Caravagio became his favourite manner, and in the language, tho' not with the motives, of Doctor Young's Zanga he might have ſaid that horrors now were not diſpleaſing to him. The meagre encouragement he found in Rome determined him to ſeek his better fortune at Naples: For this place he ſet out in a ragged jacket, having pledged his capa for a viaticum. In Naples he let himſelf out to a common painter for hire: This man [213] however had great humanity and ſome ſcience; the abilities of Il Spagnoleto ſurprized him; he clearly ſaw how ſuperior his talents were to the low occupation he had engaged in; a further acquaintance opened to him the ſingular virtues and good qualities he was poſſeſſed of, and he ſoon conceived the deſign of converting his ſervant into his ſon-in-law: He had an only child, a daughter; the girl being exceedingly handſome, and the father very rich, an abundance of ſuitors preſented themſelves to the choice of her parents, but, the moment which Providence had decreed for rewarding the virtues of poor Ribera being now arrived, all their pretenſions availed nothing [214] with the father, who had determined upon his part and, calling Ribera aſide, propoſed at once to beſtow his daughter with the better part of his means immediately upon him; a propoſition ſo totally above expectation or hope ſtaggered his belief, and he entreated his maſter not to make his miſery and ill fortune the object of his raillery and ridicule; he was at a loſs to think what preſumption could have eſcaped him to merit this rebuke; he was not conſcious of having conceived or entertained a thought, that aſpired to a match ſo totally above his reach; with ſome difficulty the father conquered his incredulity, when young Ribera, tranſported with joy and [215] gratitude, was in one moment from being the pooreſt made the happieſt of beings. Behold him now occupying a whole floor the palace of the Viceroy, with all the comforts of life and the conveniencies of his art in abundance around him; at the height of his fame, in requeſt of all the great and eminent in Europe, and honoured by his Holineſs the Pope with the knighthood of Chriſt. A new choice of ſubjects now preſented themſelves to the world, and people ſaw, with a terror partaking of delight, martyrdoms, executions and torments expreſſed to the truth, nay in ſome caſes even aggravated beyond it: He ſelected all that ſacred or claſſic hiſtory afforded [216] in the terrible; all that the pagan theology or the poetical hell had repreſented to appall the guilty was to be found on the canvaſſes of Ribera; a martyred San Bartolome, ſtript to the muſcles, became a ſtudy for anatomiſts: Cato of Utica in the act of tearing out his bowels brought the horror of ſelf-murder to the eyes and hearts of men: Hercules ſtruggling in the throes of death and all the tortured in the fabulous realm of Pluto were now exhibited, like Eſchylus's ſuries on the ſtage of Athens, and in ſome inſtances with the ſame effects; for it is related, that a certain lady of Amſterdam named Jacoba de Uſfel having miſcarried upon ſeeing ſome paintings of Siſyphus, Tantalus and Ixion by Ribera, her huſband's [217] gallantry induced him to diſpoſe of them, and being carried into Italy they were purchaſed on the part of His Catholic Majeſty and tranſported into Spain, where they are now preſerved in the palace of the Buen Retiro. Many other pictures of this maſter were collected by the Viceroys of Naples for the King and alſo for particular Grandees and brought into Spain: In the royal collections of Madrid and the Eſcorial there are many; the great altar-piece of the church of Santa Iſabel on the ſubject of the Conception is by Ribera, and the head of the Virgin is the portrait of his daughter. He died at Naples in 1656, aged 67 years, leaving only one child above mentioned, [218] whom he married to a man of diſtinction in Naples. He left behind him a tract in manuſcript on the principles of the art of painting, which is reported to have been a moſt elaborate and excellent compoſition.

Luis Triſtan, a diſciple of Dominico Greco, was born in a ſmall village near the city of Toledo: He certainly exceeded his maſter in correctneſs of drawing and purity of taſte. It does not appear that Dominico had any of the jealouſies of his art about him in his treatment of Triſtan, whilſt he was under his tuition; on the contrary he took early notice of his talents, and brought them into practice and diſplay with all the advantages in his power to give; the monaſteries [219] of Spain, as I have elſewhere obſerved, were in that period conſiderable patrons of the elegant arts of painting and ſculpture; moſt of theſe religious Societies are rich, and thoſe, whoſe funds did not enable them to ſet the artiſts at work, found benefactors amongſt the great, whoſe devotion or vanity diſpoſed them to beautify and enrich the churches and altars, which they frequented, and where ſuch donations would be accepted in the way of atonement, or recorded as acts of voluntary piety and meritorious munificence: The monks of La Siſla in the neighbourhood of Toledo had applied to Dominico Greco for a picture of our Lord's laſt ſupper to be painted for [220] their refectory, in the manner that Titiano had adorned that in the monaſtery of San Lorenzo. Dominico being obliged to decline the commiſſion on account of indiſpoſition, recommended his young pupil Luis Triſtan to the undertaking; the monks accepted his ſervices, and upon delivery of the picture were with reaſon ſatisfied with the performance; nothing remained to be adjuſted but the price, and the demand of the artiſt being for 200 ducats was deemed exorbitant; the Fathers referred themſelves to Dominico, who being then in a fit of the gout was put into a coach and conveyed to the convent; as ſoon as he arrived there and had deliberately ſurveyed the piece, he [221] turned ſuddenly to his diſciple and with a menacing tone and air, lifting up his crutch, exclaimed againſt Triſtan for diſgracing his art and all who profeſſed it, by demanding 200 ducats for the picture in queſtion. The triumph of the Fathers upon this teſtimony of their umpire, ſo decidedly as it ſeemed in their favour, was however ſoon reverſed, when Dominico directed his diſciple to roll up the picture and take it away with him to Toledo, for that he ſhould not leave it there for five hundred ducats; then, launching out into rapturous encomiums on the performance, he began to put his deciſion into execution: Vexation and ſurprize now took poſſeſſion of the convicted [220] [...] [221] [...] [222] monks, their murmuring and complaints were changed to interceſſions, and, after ſufficient atonement on their part, the money was paid and the picture ſurrendered to the refectory and oblivion: Certainly it is a capital compoſition, and whenever the Fathers ſhall repent of the bargain made by their predeceſſors, there is not a collector in Europe but will give them their principal with ample intereſt upon their purchaſe. Triſtan died at Toledo in the year 1649, at the age of fifty-four, with the honour of being imitated by the celebrated Velazquez, who declared himſelf his admirer and, quitting the precepts of Pacheco, profeſſedly modelled himſelf after [223] the ſtile and manner of Luis Triſtan.

Juan Baptiſta Mayno, a monk of the order of the Predicadores, was a contemporary of Triſtan and a diſciple alſo of Dominico Greco: In the convent of San Pedro the Martyr at Toledo there is an altarpiece in four compartments repreſenting the ſubjects of the four Paſquas, viz. the Nativity, the Reſurrection, the Deſcent of the Holy Ghoſt and the Myſtery of the Holy Trinity: There is in the ſame church a Saint Peter weeping, of which many copies are diſperſed through Spain; an affecting natural idea of that zealous yet offending diſciple in the moment of recollection and remorſe. The [224] college of San Eſtevan at Salamanca contains ſome works of this maſter, whoſe excellence as an artiſt and whoſe irreproachable ſanctity gained him univerſal eſteem and promoted him to the honour of being drawing-maſter to Philip the IV th. who was not only a lover of the arts but a proficient. Mayno was employed by the King at the palace of the Buen Retiro, where he painted a fine battle-piece, in which the Conde Duque de Olivares is introduced animating the troops to action by preſenting to their view a portrait of King Philip, a brilliant thought and a courtly compliment to both parties. Mayno died in his ſixtieth [225] year, in the city of Toledo, in 1654.

In the ſame year died Pedro Nun̄ez a native of Madrid, of whoſe celebrity there needs no better teſtimony, than his being one in the following groupe of artiſts, recorded by the famous Lope de la Vega in the following lines:

Pero porque es razon que participe
L'el Laurel la pintura generoſa
Juntos llegaron a la cumbre hermoſa
Sulcando varios mares.
Vincencio, Eugenio, Nun̄ez y Lanchares.

Appendix A INDEX TO THE FIRST VOLUME.

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END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
Notes
*
Since this book went to the preſs, I have received out of Spain an Ecce Homo by Morales, painted upon ſtone, which was affixed to a private oratory in the houſe of the Duque de Oſuna, and tranſmitted to me by the favour of that diſtinguiſhed Grandee.
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