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

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 Guadalax⯑ara, [11] may be conſidered as the fa⯑ther 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 por⯑traits 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 ar⯑tiſt died in the year 1500.

The unhappy cataſtrophe of Torrigiano, the Florentine, follow⯑ed in the year 1522: After having enriched the cities of Andaluſia [12] with ſeveral pieces of ſculpture, not unworthy the diſciple and ri⯑val of Michael Angelo; he was condemned to death by the In⯑quiſition, and expired in the pri⯑ſon 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 Gran⯑dee; it was to be made after the model of one, which he had al⯑ready executed; and promiſe was given him of a reward propor⯑tioned to the merit of his work. His employer was one of the firſt Grandees of Spain, and Torrigi⯑ano, who conceived highly of his generoſity, and well knew what [13] his own talents could perform, was determined to outdo his for⯑mer work; he had paſſed great part of his life in travelling from kingdom to kingdom in ſearch of employment, and, flattering him⯑ſelf with the hope, that he had now at laſt found a reſting-place after all his labours, the ingenious artiſt with much pains and appli⯑cation compleated the work, and preſented to his employer a matchleſs piece of ſculpture, the utmoſt effort of his art; the Gran⯑dee ſurveyed the ſtriking perfor⯑mance with great delight and re⯑verence; applauded Torrigiano to the ſkies; and, impatient to poſ⯑ſeſs 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, amount⯑ing only to the paltry ſum of thir⯑ty ducats, vexation at this ſudden diſappointment of his hopes, and juſt reſentment for what he con⯑ſidered as an inſult to his merit, ſo tranſported him, that, ſnatch⯑ing 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 per⯑haps conceiving, horror for the ſacrilegious nature of the act, pre⯑ſented himſelf before the Court of Inquiſition, and impeached the unhappy artiſt at that terrible tri⯑bunal; 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 hor⯑rors, [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 in⯑excuſable, offence, than that, for which he ſuffered; and an enthu⯑ſiaſt 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 paſ⯑ſion, as in the perſon of Michael Angelo to deface one of the di⯑vineſt 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 ap⯑pear; 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 ac⯑tion; ſince the days of Diomed few mortals ever launched a more impious blow.

[18] The arts, being thus tranſ⯑planted from Italy into Spain, found a ready naturalization in a country, then abounding with ge⯑nius: The province of Andalu⯑ſia took the lead on this occaſion, and has in all times been produc⯑tive of extraordinary talents; it was the cradle of moſt of the Spa⯑niſh painters; it's natives conti⯑nue 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, fa⯑vourable 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 peculi⯑arity of features; the forms of the children, till they attain the age of eight or ten, are good, and of⯑tentimes 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 Moor⯑iſh modes of dancing, which al⯑moſt every peaſant can accom⯑pany with his voice and inſtru⯑ment, their groupes become ex⯑tremely pictureſque: To theſe may be added the character of their [20] dreſs, particularly that of Anda⯑luſia, which both in male and fe⯑male 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 a⯑vailed 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 land⯑ſcapes; in theſe it has neither ex⯑celled nor abounded; and the ge⯑neral want of trees and verdure [21] readily ſupplies a reaſon: Groves and rivers and ſcattered habita⯑tions, emblematic of rural tranquil⯑lity, which furniſh the moſt pleaſ⯑ing 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 not⯑withſtanding 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 in⯑to 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 Alexan⯑dro, Italians of the ſchool of Juan de Udine, a diſciple of Ra⯑fael, were artiſts of great emi⯑nence; Charles employed them in a royal work, the beautifying the Alhambra of Grenada; they en⯑riched the Hoſpital of Santiago, in the city of Ubeda, with many no⯑ble 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, re⯑turned into Spain an eminent proficient in painting, ſculpture [23] and architecture; deeply ſkilled in the theory of his art, he exhi⯑bited to the world a new ſyſtem of human ſymmetry and propor⯑tion, 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 monu⯑ments of his excellence in all the branches of his ſtudy, both at Madrid, the Pardo and the Al⯑hambra of Grenada; for which he was ſuitably honoured and re⯑warded 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 Berru⯑guete; Philip de Borgona executed one ſide of the choir, and Berru⯑guete 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 illuſtri⯑ous ſtudents returned together to Spain, and were immediately tak⯑en into the protection of the Em⯑peror. The arts, which Rincon had tranſplanted into Spain, which Berruguete had ſo proſper⯑ouſly advanced, they (but eſpe⯑cially Becerra) puſhed into matu⯑rity; [25] this man, who even in Rome (at that period in her zenith) had attracted general admiration, ex⯑celled in ſculpture, equally as in painting; in the latter art his mode of colouring, and his ma⯑nagement in the relief of his fi⯑gures, greatly improved the prac⯑tice of the Spaniſh ſchool, and taught his countrymen to look upon their firſt manner with con⯑tempt: 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 bar⯑barous 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 ſatisfac⯑tion of the Fathers, and, when they had equipped his images in wide hoops and furbelowed petti⯑coats, they applauded the artiſt, and adored his manufacture. It was not ſo eaſy to ſatisfy the ca⯑price 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 re⯑ceived her Majeſty's commands, and addreſſed himſelf with dili⯑gence to the work; after the la⯑bour 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 com⯑manded not only to make a bet⯑ter, but to take leſs time in mak⯑ing 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 repreſenta⯑tion of nature; it was again ſub⯑mitted 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 ſuper⯑ſeded [28] in the commiſſion by ſome abler maſter; but, anxious to pre⯑ſerve his pre-eminence, and ful⯑fil her Majeſty's ideas, he again applied himſelf with ardour to the taſk; he racked his imagination without ceaſing to frame ſome vi⯑ſage, and deviſe ſome form, that Iſabella might confeſs bore a re⯑ſemblance to the image in her mind: Wearied out with the tor⯑menting inveſtigation, the ex⯑hauſted 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 ob⯑tained a model for his image; but the lady unluckily concealed her [29] face; at length, addreſſing him in the moſt courteous ſtile, ſhe de⯑ſired 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 com⯑pleated a figure to the heart's content of Iſabella; the Monks, whoſe prayers aſſiſted the execu⯑tion, received the miraculous image with joy; it was erected on the high altar of the convent in Valladolid, with all proper cere⯑monials 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 pa⯑tience; 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 for⯑med themſelves in the ſchool of Alberto Durero, and Gallegos co⯑pied the manner of his maſter ſo cloſely, that many of his pictures cannot be diſtinguiſhed from Du⯑rero'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 Fle⯑ming by birth, who had ſtudied twenty years in the ſchool of Ra⯑fael 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, reſid⯑ing chiefly at Seville. In the chapel of the Purification in that city there is ſtill to be ſeen a ca⯑pital painting by this maſter on the ſubject of the ceremony, to which the chapel is dedicated; a Deſcent from the Croſs and a Nati⯑vity, 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 Em⯑peror 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 Titi⯑ano, 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 de⯑livered 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 Ferra⯑ra, Federico Gonzaga (Duke of Mantua) Franciſco Maria, (Duke of Urbino) the Marquis del Baſto, Peſcara, Alva, Franciſco Sforza, Antonio de Leyva, Diego de Men⯑doza, Arretino, Bembo, Fracaſtorio, Ferdinand (King of the Romans) and his ſon Maximilian, both af⯑terwards Emperors, the Popes Six⯑tus 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 Em⯑peror 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 im⯑preſſions, and henceforward deter⯑mined never to commit his perſon to any other limner than Titiano. He was a lover of arts, not an en⯑thuſiaſt; 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 regu⯑larly 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 Titi⯑ano's preſenting him with a pic⯑ture 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; anx⯑ious to wreſt the palm of glory from the brows of his rival Fran⯑cis 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 Empe⯑ror's invitation; from that period till 1553 he reſided in Spain; dur⯑ing this reſidence he compoſed many admirable works, and re⯑ceived 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 re⯑corded; viz. Carolus V. divinâ fa⯑vente clementiâ Romanorum Im⯑perator auguſtus ac Rex Germa⯑niae, [38] Hiſpaniarumque ſpectabili noſtro et imperii ſacri fideli dilecto Titiano de Vecellis, ſive equiti au⯑rato, et ſacri Lateranenſis palatii, aulaeque nrae et imperialis conſiſto⯑rii comiti gratiam Caeſaream et omne bonum.

Cum nobis ſemper mos fuerit, poſtquam ad hujus Caeſariae digni⯑tatis celſitudinem divis auſpiciis evecti fuerimus, vos potiſſimum, qui ſingulari fide et obſervantiâ erga nos et ſacrum Romanum im⯑perium praediti egregiis moribus, eximiis virtutibus et ingenuis ar⯑tibus induſtriâ (que) clari et excel⯑lentes habiti ſunt prae caeteris be⯑nevolentiâ, favore et gratiâ noſtrâ proſequi. Attendentes igitur ſingu⯑larem tuam erga nos, et ſacrum [39] Romanum imperium fidem et ob⯑ſervantiam, ac praeter illas egre⯑gias virtutes tuas et ingenii dotes, exquiſitam illam pingendi et ad vivum effigiendarum ima⯑ginum 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 dilec⯑torum accidente conſilio, et de noſtrae Caeſareae poteſtatis plenitu⯑dine te praenominatum Titianum ſacri Lateranenſis palatii, aulae (que) nrae, et Imperialis conſiſtorii co⯑mitem fecimus, creavimus, erex⯑imus, et comitatus Palatini ti⯑titulo [40] clementer inſignivimus: Prout tenore praeſentium faci⯑mus, creamus, erigimus, attoli⯑mus et inſignimus ac aliorum Comitum Palatinorum numero et conſortu gratanter aggregamus et adſcribimus, &c.

Theſe favours alarmed the jealou⯑ſy 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 ſer⯑vice for an Emperor. Charles did not only grace this eminent ar⯑tiſt 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 munifi⯑cent compenſation for every pic⯑ture he executed: Palomino ſays, that Charles regarded the poſſeſ⯑ſion of a capital piece of Titiano more than he did the acquiſition of a new province to his domi⯑nion; but Palomino was a painter, and more familiar with the pic⯑tures of Titiano, than with the po⯑litics [42] of the Emperor: This would have been a caprice unworthy of any prince; but Charles's charac⯑ter was not the ſport of caprice; whilſt to the very moment of his life, when he reſigned his domi⯑nions, it was evident that ambi⯑tion 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 re⯑membrance of his favourite author to cheer his ſolitude, or to enflame [43] his devotion: I can hardly be perſuaded, that Charles's abdica⯑tion 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, be⯑fore 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 Al⯑hambra 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 no⯑bleman's ſeat in his native coun⯑try: Superſtition ſoon engaged Philip in a more important un⯑dertaking and, having made a vow upon the victory of St. Quin⯑tin to dedicate a church and mo⯑naſtery 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:

So much has been ſaid on the ſubject of this extraordinary edi⯑fice, 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 em⯑blematic of its founder, who on the ſummit of the ſuperincum⯑bent mountain was accuſtomed to ſit and ſurvey his riſing fabric in ſilent contemplation and de⯑light. 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 Lo⯑renzo; 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 pre⯑ſervatives have not been very ſuc⯑ceſsful in their office, for great part of the edifice, with not a few of the relics in charge, were con⯑ſumed 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 be⯑fore them, a ſubterranean paſſage is cut through the rock, under the area of the court, for a communi⯑cation 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 poſ⯑ſible care againſt the attack, con⯑tinually exhibits melancholy proofs oſ its inſufficiency; whilſt the ar⯑chitect, 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 paint⯑er will find much to admire: It is undoubtedly a repoſitory of noble arts. As ſoon as Philip had con⯑ceived 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 in⯑to his own country: Whether he ſolicited him to come again into Spain does not appear; but he had certainly given him ſeveral com⯑miſſions for pictures: In a letter, [51] which Philip writes to Titiano of the 13th of July 1558 from Ghent, he acknowledges the re⯑ceipt of one from Titiano of the 19th of the preceding month, and expreſſes the ſatisfaction it gave him to hear, that he had com⯑pleated his picture of Calixtus and one alſo of Diana bathing: He tells him that he had wrote to Gar⯑cias 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 paint⯑ing 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 compoſi⯑tion, 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 pay⯑ments in ſuch train, that there ſhall be no cauſe of complaint in future. This in effect he performed by a peremptory mandate to his gover⯑nor of Milan, directing him to ſa⯑tisfy 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 re⯑ſpective [54] merit is not the object of this work, and would be an un⯑dertaking 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 gra⯑tification, 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 diſperſ⯑ed, 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, toge⯑ther 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 mar⯑tyrs above mentioned I am un⯑willing [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 am⯑baſſador in England, has been reſ⯑cued from execution by the ad⯑dreſs of Mengs. I frequently vi⯑ſited this matchleſs deity in her hiding-place, where I found her miſerably lodged, though reſpec⯑tably attended by an Atalanta in [57] the race by Guido, divinely ex⯑ecuted, a Helen and Paris by Rubens, and three Graces of the ſame maſter, coloured to a mira⯑cle, but much more embonpoint than their principal. To attempt any deſcription of this ſleeping Venus appears to me as impoſſi⯑ble, 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 diſ⯑played beauty and ſweetneſs of the divineſt ſort, with the moſt perfect innocence of character; the limbs are elegantly and de⯑cently diſpoſed, the hues are glow⯑ing and tranſparent, the outline [58] round and glittering, and the lo⯑cal 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 Anto⯑nio Mengs, that he ſaved it from deſtruction: It had another eſcape from the flames of the Pardo, which fatal accident being re⯑ported to Philip the IVth, then on the throne, he inſtantly demanded, if the Titian-Venus had eſcaped the conflagration; the meſſenger aſ⯑ſured him that it was ſaved, then [59] replied the King all other loſſes may be ſupported: I cannot diſ⯑miſs this enchanting object with⯑out 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 par⯑ticular a Tarquin and Lucretia ſo naturally executed, that, what be⯑tween 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 beau⯑tiful are two celebrated compa⯑nions, the one a groupe of Bac⯑chanals, 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 Bac⯑chanals there is a young female votariſt aſleep, of which Don An⯑tonio Mengs in his critique above mentioned ſpeaks with rapture; he ſays that he never ſaw it with⯑out that ſtriking novelty of de⯑light as if he had never diſcovered it before: The colouring of this [61] figure he obſerves is in Titiano's cleareſt manner, and the degrada⯑tion 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 re⯑marks on this picture by obſerv⯑ing, that all the harmonious ac⯑companiments of ſky, variegated ſoil, with deep and tender ſhades of the trees, form ſuch an aſſem⯑blage of beautiful objects in na⯑ture perfectly imitated, that a bet⯑ter picture in this ſtile he does not think the world can produce: [62] The other picture repreſents a very numerous groupe of beautiful Cu⯑pids, diſpoſed in a wonderful vari⯑ety of attitudes, employed in pu⯑erile ſports, under a grove of ap⯑ple-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 ap⯑plicable to this: Don Antonio Mengs adds, that theſe pictures were formerly in the Ludovici palace at Rome, and were a pre⯑ſent [63] to the king of Spain: Sand⯑rart reports of this groupe of Cu⯑pids, 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 quot⯑ed adds with rather too much cri⯑tical 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 va⯑niſhed.

Of ſcriptural ſubjects, treated by the hand of this great maſter, the Eſcorial preſents a hoſt of va⯑luable [64] examples; not a few art alſo to be found in the palace at Madrid; the celebrated pic⯑ture of the Laſt Supper in the re⯑fectory 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 inter⯑mediate compoſitions; for, al⯑though 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 com⯑penſation for the dedication of ſo great a portion of his time.

The compoſition, which is call⯑ed la gloria de Titiano, that of Chriſt in the garden and the Santa Mar⯑garita with the Dragon, would claim ſome deſcription, if much more capable judges had not al⯑ready paſſed the due encomiums on theſe excellent performances; the ſcrupulous ſanctity of the monks was offended at ſome li⯑berties taken by Santa Margarita in tucking up her robe and diſ⯑covering 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 keep⯑ing by the Heſperides: But Jor⯑dan's rapid pencil pieced the petti⯑coat, which now, like Raphael's wings,

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 ex⯑pected therefore, that there will be found ſome tokens of natural [67] decay in his later works, and cer⯑tain it is, that though his colour⯑ing is always good, ſome pictures there are in the royal collection of another pencil from his Venus, and far leſs bright than his ſlum⯑bring Bacchant: He prattles ſome⯑times 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 paint⯑ed 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 in⯑ſtance of this occurred in the caſe [68] of the famous pictures above-mentioned extracted from the Lu⯑dovice palace, which were a pre⯑ſent 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 Bena⯑vente, and ſeveral pieces of Titiano were collected by the great paint⯑er Velazquez in his excurſion to Italy by order of Philip the IVth. Whilſt Philip the IId. was thus ſolicitous to enrich his royal con⯑vent of San Lorenzo with the va⯑luable 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 diſ⯑tinguiſhed 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 prin⯑cipal painters, as well foreigners as natives, who were employed in furniſhing and adorning the Eſco⯑rial.

Juan Fernandez Ximenez of Na⯑varre, commonly called El Mudo or the Dumb, and generally acknow⯑ledged 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 Geroni⯑mytes; his early marks of genius were ſuch, that Fray Vicente pro⯑poſed to the parents of El Mudo to ſend him into Italy, which be⯑ing accordingly done, he travelled to Florence, Venice, Milan and Naples, viſiting many of the moſt famous academies; but princi⯑pally 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 ap⯑pointed 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 paint⯑ed 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 Se⯑govia; theſe paintings were re⯑moved 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 cha⯑racter of the Executioner, in re⯑venge [72] for ſome ill offices, which that miniſter had done him. San⯑toyo complained to the King, making ſuit that the figure might be expunged, and his perſon not delivered to poſterity in the diſ⯑graceful occupation of a hangman; the King, who probably knew the cauſe of the offence, did not diſ⯑approve of the nature of the re⯑venge, and, excuſing himſelf to Santoyo on account of the excel⯑lence 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 em⯑ployed, [73] and upon Philip's propoſ⯑ing 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 ca⯑pital 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 expreſ⯑ſing a heſitation on account of the length of the time required by El Mudo for the work, and pro⯑ceeding to put his deſign in exe⯑cution, El Mudo repeated his ſup⯑plications in behalf of his favour⯑ite maſter with more fervency than ever, offering to compleat his copy in leſs time, than he at firſt de⯑manded, [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 Ti⯑tiano, 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 honour⯑ed with an epitaph by Fra. Lope Feliz de Vega Carpio.

El Divino Morales was born at Badajoz in the province of Eſtre⯑madura, in the beginning of the [75] ſixteenth century. He was in⯑ſtructed at Seville in the academy of Pedro Campana, a diſciple of Raphael; from his conſtant choice of divine ſubjects and the ex⯑treme delicacy of his pencil he acquired the appellation of El Di⯑vino, and is known to the preſent age by no other name than that of El Divino Morales. All his paint⯑ings are upon board or copper, and almoſt generally heads of the crucified Saviour; no inſtance oc⯑curring 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 dimi⯑niſh 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 re⯑preſents: 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-mention⯑ed, than any other; and worked, as it appears to me, after the man⯑ner of the highly-finiſhed heads of Leonardo da Vinci. He was un⯑doubtedly [77] an artiſt of a very li⯑mited invention and deſign; in aerial perſpective and the clear⯑obſcure I have ſometimes found him evidently deficient, nor has he any tincture of art or academy in grouping his figures and diſ⯑poſing his attitudes; every thing is left to a ſimple expreſſion of af⯑fecting 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 exhauſt⯑ed nature, which a nunnery ex⯑hibits, could have deviſed an ob⯑ject ſo extremely woe-begone: It is in ſhort the aggravated por⯑trait [78] of an emaciated devotee ex⯑piring in her vigils. It may rea⯑dily 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 induſtri⯑ous or intereſted in his art, his pictures are both very rare and ve⯑ry permanent in their ſtations^*. [79] Enough may be had of illegiti⯑mate or ſuſpicious pretenſions, but in general they are eaſily to be diſ⯑tinguiſhed. One would expect to find in Morales's private life a character in uniſon with his ſtu⯑dies; but the contrary of this ap⯑pears from his hiſtory. When Morales was ſummoned to the Eſ⯑corial by Philip, he left Badajoz at the King's command, and put⯑ting 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 unex⯑pected ſplendor of his appear⯑ance, he anſwered with an air of national gallantry that, being re⯑ſolved 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 ſum⯑mons. It does not appear, that his reply diſpleaſed, neither was the King diſſatisfied with his per⯑formances, for which he liberally rewarded him: However, when upon completion of his undertak⯑ings 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 poſ⯑ſeſſion of the kingdom of Portu⯑gal, 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 trea⯑ſurer 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 Mo⯑rales: He ſurvived this event ſome years and died in 1586. Some of his paintings are preſerved at Cor⯑dova 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 paint⯑ing part of the principal cloyſter, the latter, who had formed him⯑ſelf in Italy, executed ſome ſta⯑tues in the great church of admi⯑rable workmanſhip, and in the grande guſto of Michael Angelo. Beltran alſo carved a cruciſix for the high altar at the Imperial col⯑lege, lately occupied by the Je⯑ſuits 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 re⯑markable modeſty.

The ſame year was alſo fatal to Teodoſio Mingot the Catalan, (a diſ⯑ciple of Michael Angelo) and Luis de Carvajal of Toledo, both emi⯑nent painters, and both employed at the Eſcorial: Part of the prin⯑cipal cloyſter is painted by Carva⯑jal, and amongſt the paintings in the church ſpecimens of a reſpect⯑able ſort are to be found of both theſe maſters.

But amongſt the principal ar⯑tiſts, employed by Philip in the paintings of the Eſcorial, the Elder Coello was one in the chief favour and eſteem of that ſove⯑reign, 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 compleat⯑ed himſelf in his art under the in⯑ſtruction of Antonio Moro in Spain; he paſſed from Spain into Portu⯑gal, 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 ſend⯑ing him Coello; upon his arrival at the court Philip lodged him in an apartment near at hand, with which he had a private communi⯑cation, for the purpoſe of viſiting [86] him, whilſt he was at work: On theſe occaſions he treated Coello with great familiarity and conde⯑ſcenſion; 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 diſtin⯑guiſhed perſonages, that compoſed the court: In ſhort he became conſidered as a man in ſuch high degree of favour, that his protec⯑tion was lookt up to by the Cour⯑tiers and Grandees and his houſe and table frequented by the firſt perſons in the nation, not except⯑ing Cardinal Grambela, Don Gaſ⯑par de Zueroga, archbiſhop of To⯑ledo, [87] and Don Rodrigo de Caſtro, archbiſhop of Seville: Coello was no leſs in favour with Pope Gre⯑gory the XIIIth and Sixtus Quin⯑tus, with the Dukes of Florence and Savoy, Cardinal Farneſe and many other illuſtrious characters of that time. After endowing a cha⯑ritable foundation for the reception of poor orphans at Valladolid, Co⯑ello 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 king⯑dom: His paintings in the Eſco⯑rial, which are chiefly of Saints af⯑fixed [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 ce⯑lebrated; and his original figures of Siſiphus and Titius, as well as his copies from Titiano of Tanta⯑lus 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 Par⯑do; of all which ſurvive, the prin⯑cipal in point of compoſition is preſerved in the church of San Geronimo in Madrid, repreſent⯑ing [89] the martyrdom of San Sebaſ⯑tian; 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 fi⯑gure repreſenting El Padre Eter⯑no; the whole is executed with great majeſty of deſign, a bold re⯑lief and a ſtrong and maſterly ex⯑preſſion: 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 cele⯑brated 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: Haugh⯑ty 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 diſ⯑grace) that privately communi⯑cated 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 diſ⯑cretion, good manners and much acquaintance with the world; if [91] the King encouraged converſa⯑tion, 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 atten⯑tion, 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 per⯑haps forgot the breaches he had cauſed in that of nature's produ⯑cing: By the eaſel of Coello, if he was not defended from the cares, he was at leaſt ſecure from the in⯑truſions of Royalty. Whoever has [92] been accuſtomed to look on du⯑ring the operations of induſtry or art, muſt have experienced a re⯑poſe of thought, an interval from worldly inquietude, that ſteals in⯑ſenſibly 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 avo⯑cation, 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 defec⯑tion 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, at⯑tracted the attention of all the ar⯑tiſts in Europe, whilſt the wealth and munificence of the King held out ample encouragement to ad⯑venturers 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 diſ⯑tinguiſhed maſters of the age in Italy; but their names are buried in the obſcurity of time, and their works in that of cloyſters and con⯑vents.

Philip preſſed his favourite un⯑dertaking with ſuch ardour, and the immeaſurable walls of the con⯑vent of San Lorenzo offered ſuch a field for emulation, that the har⯑veſt could not be reaped by natives only, however numerous; ſo that to conclude the work within the period of his reign it was neceſſa⯑ry to call in the aſſiſtance of more [95] labourers, and a great body of in⯑genious emigrants accepted the invitation: My deſign is to pre⯑ſent 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 re⯑lation ſuperfluous and imperti⯑nent.

In ſelecting theſe I ſhall princi⯑pally follow the order of time, in which they flouriſhed, for the pre⯑ſent however confining myſelf to the reign of Philip the IId.

Antonio Moro (Sir Antony More) the predeceſſor and pre⯑ceptor 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 An⯑gelo 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 Cardi⯑nal to the ſervice of the Emperor, he was ſent by him into Portugal to take the portrait of the Prin⯑ceſs Donna Maria, then contract⯑ed 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 ſa⯑tisfaction, and was magnificently rewarded both by Charles and the Royal perſonages above-mention⯑ed. Having ſucceeded ſo well in this commiſſion, he was next diſ⯑patcht by the Emperor into Eng⯑land to the court of Mary, to take the portrait of that princeſs, previous to her eſpouſals with Phi⯑lip: Moro employed all the flat⯑tering aids of his art in this por⯑trait, and ſo captivated the cour⯑tiers of Spain with the charms of Mary's perſon, that he was em⯑ployed 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 excel⯑lent courtier. Having enriched himſelf by his embaſſy to Eng⯑land, he returned into Spain upon the concluſion of peace between that kingdom and France, and was eagerly received into the ſer⯑vice 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 balan⯑ced on a hair; the courtiers, who were in awful attendance, revolt⯑ed from the ſight with horror and [100] amazement (could Luca Jordano have ſeized the groupe in that mo⯑ment and daſhed it off with his rapid facility, what a ſubject for a painter!) caprice, or I would ra⯑ther 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 a⯑tonement 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 cir⯑cumſtances [101] of the caſe, learnedly concluded that Antonio Moro, be⯑ing 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 accord⯑ing to the premiſes, on which their judgments then were and ſtill are formed, reaſoned much amiſs; for a diſbelief in witches is a ſpe⯑cies of criminal infidelity to the preſent moment condemnable at that ſacred tribunal, of which I could give a late very notable ex⯑ample, 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 con⯑demnation would have been ine⯑vitable; for as it is hard to ſup⯑poſe how any man could daub the fingers of a King of Spain with [103] carmine, unleſs by the correſpon⯑dence and conſpiracy of the De⯑vil, 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 pre⯑tence (which on ſuch occaſions is readily enough ſupplied to the wicked) of an immediate and preſ⯑ſing [104] avocation. It was in vain that Philip moved him to revoke his reſolution, in vain that he ſo⯑licited 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 fami⯑liarly treated, could not ſnatch him, weighed down all the ca⯑reſſes, all the ſolicitations of the King, and he departed, loaded with the rewards of Philip's muni⯑ficence, and penetrated with the proofs of his complacency and in⯑dulgence. He left many por⯑traits 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 re⯑corded that he received the ſum of 12,000 ducats; a work of infinite labour, conſiſting of a vaſt multi⯑tude of the bleſt, received into heaven, with a great hoſt of angels ſurrounding the holy Trinity, plac⯑ed 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 re⯑gularly 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 introduc⯑ing his own and that of his friend Fra. Antonio de Villacartin. Con⯑ſidering it as a pavement of faces, worked by the ſquare yard, Lucas Cangiaſo has executed his com⯑miſſion like an able and honeſt mechanic; the honour of the de⯑ſign is due to certain Theologians of the time, who, regarding the beauty of effect with pious con⯑tempt, 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 en⯑gaged Luca de Jordano to under⯑take 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 pre⯑tended to entertain for the merit and ſuperior excellence of the ori⯑ginal. Lucas Cangiaſo was accom⯑panied out of Italy by Lazaro Ta⯑baron and his brother Horatio Can⯑giaſo, on whom Philip ſettled pro⯑portionable appointments. Lucas died at the Eſcorial much enrich⯑ed [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 invita⯑tion of the King, or that he exe⯑cuted any thing at the Eſcorial: His great work was a magnificent freſco on the ſubject of St. Chriſ⯑topher in the cathedral of Seville, which thoſe, who have viſited that church, ſpeak of with rapture. It will be ſufficient for me to ob⯑ſerve of this artiſt (whoſe hiſtory authors of better information have already recorded) that after abid⯑ing [109] ſome time in Spain, where he was held in univerſal eſtimation, he departed for Italy, candidly de⯑claring, that a country in poſſeſ⯑ſion of ſo great a living maſter as Luis de Vargas, then reſiding at Seville, of which place he was na⯑tive, could not be benefited by his talents, nor needed his aſſiſt⯑ance; and ſo high was the opi⯑nion he conceived of Vargas's ſu⯑perior merits, that one day, whilſt he was contemplating a picture by that artiſt of Adam and Eve, and obſerving upon the maſterly fore⯑ſhortening 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 paint⯑ing [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 perform⯑ances 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 Pe⯑regrino Tibaldi. Whether Philip's expectations were raiſed too high by the report his emiſſaries in Italy had made of Zucaro's ta⯑lents, 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 Eſ⯑corial, he alone fell ſhort in exe⯑cution and failed of ſucceſs. At the ſame time, that Philip diſ⯑miſſed him from his ſervice, he compenſated him in ſo princely a manner for his undertaking, that I am inclined to think upon the evi⯑dence of ſome letters, which paſſ⯑ed between the King and his am⯑baſſador 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 re⯑putation 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; be⯑yond this, which I have done, the powers of painting cannot go: The King was ſilent for a time, and ſo unmoved, that neither approba⯑tion nor contempt could be deter⯑mined from the expreſſion of his countenance; at laſt, preſerving ſtill the ſame indifference, he aſk⯑ed 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 ex⯑preſſed [113] his diſſatisfaction with a compoſition Zucaro had made up⯑on the ſubject of the Viſitation, he excuſed himſelf by ſaying it was painted by his ſcholars; Philip deſired him to paint the ſame ſub⯑ject 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 Ma⯑jeſty's hand on the occaſion, and re⯑turned him thanks for his extraor⯑dinary bounty to Zucaro: It is not Zucaro, replied the King, that is in [114] fault, the blame is their's, who re⯑commended him. Peregrin Tibaldi, or Peregrin of Bologna, was a co⯑pyiſt of the grand ſtile of Michael Angelo, and, as Palomino informs us, his ſcholar; but according to the teſtimony of Zanoti, whoſe au⯑thority is to be preferred, he ſtu⯑died under Bagnacabalo. Philip ſent for him to paint the lower cloyſter of the Eſcorial in freſco, having expunged the unſucceſsful attempts of Zucaro; Peregrino ac⯑quitted 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 Purifi⯑cation, 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 La⯑zarus, the Expulſion of the Mo⯑ney-changers out of the Temple and the various paſſages of the Paſſion and Reſurrection of the Saviour, with other ſubjects of ſa⯑cred hiſtory. The cloyſter is of the conventual ſort, ſad and gloomy, and neither very ſpacious nor lof⯑ty; it was, when I ſaw it, very un⯑cleanly, 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 co⯑louring, of a red and bricky hue, unrelieved by any accompaniment, or compartment, and the ſizes diſ⯑proportionate to the cloyſter, which as I before obſerved is neither lofty nor wide: I have no doubt they would make a conſpicuous fi⯑gure as engravings, and the date of their exiſtence might be there⯑by 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 Nati⯑vity and Adoration, which he exe⯑cuted 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 Mel⯑chiſedech; but what above all things elſe eſtabliſhes his reputa⯑tion in Spain is the cieling of the Library: In this compoſition the painter has perſonified the Arts and Sciences in different compart⯑ments; the four Doctors of the church, with ſeveral eminent an⯑tient 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 gran⯑dee of an illuſtrious family. In the Eſcorial part of the great cloy⯑ſter is painted by Romulo Cincin⯑nato; in the church there are ſeve⯑ral of his paintings, particularly one of San Geronimo reading, and another of the ſame Saint, dic⯑tating 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, apper⯑taining to that church: In the Je⯑ſuits' church at Cuenca there is a Circumciſion of his painting great⯑ly celebrated, particularly for the admirable effect in the foreſhorten⯑ing of one of the figures, which [120] is repreſented with his back turn⯑ed 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 ad⯑vanced age univerſally eſteemed and lamented.

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

Bartolome de Carducho accompa⯑nied his maſter Zucaro into Spain and was employed in the Eſcori⯑al: [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 execu⯑tion and deſign: Part of the freſco in the cloyſters is of his painting, and gave entire ſatisfaction to Phi⯑lip, who rewarded him with two hundred ducats over and above his ſalary, and when Carducho was in⯑vited into France by order of his moſt Chriſtian Majeſty, Philip ex⯑preſt 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 Ra⯑phael's. In the church of San Ge⯑ronimo in the ſecond chapel on the right hand there is an excellent [123] figure of San Franciſco, the ſera⯑phic Patriarch, in which accord⯑ing 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 ano⯑ther over it with the ſuppoſed re⯑preſentation of the Padre Eterno. Carducho continued in Spain ſeve⯑ral years after the death of Philip the ſecond, and was appointed by the ſucceeding King Philip the third to paint a gallery in the pa⯑lace of the Pardo; the ſubject was to be taken from the life and ac⯑tions of the Emperor Charles: Car⯑ducho 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. Barto⯑lome 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 induſtri⯑ous 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 re⯑mains to ſay ſomething of the con⯑temporary artiſts, who were not engaged in his ſervice at the Eſco⯑rial; and of theſe one of the firſt in time and of the moſt diſtin⯑guiſhed in point of merit was the celebrated Blas de Prado, a Caſti⯑lian, 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 paſ⯑ſed 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 let⯑ter written by Sofonisba to Pope Pius the fourth, dated from Ma⯑drid 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 illuſtri⯑ous lady, which it ſo exactly re⯑preſents. Palomino thinks, that Sofonisba died at Madrid in 1575, aged ſomewhat more than fifty years; this circumſtance he men⯑tions [128] doubtfully, but perhaps it is cleared up by Vaſari, whoſe ac⯑count 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 ſub⯑ſcribed 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 or⯑der of Carthuſians, a native of Seville, and Father Juan de la Mi⯑ſeria, 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 lan⯑guages, and ſpoke ſeveral of the living ones: He compoſed many works, which his modeſty with⯑held 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 ex⯑plaining many emblems and in⯑ſcriptions in proof of his poſition. In the art of painting, whether in reſpect of theory or practice, Ceſ⯑pedes 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 ſculp⯑ture 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 en⯑gaged in any great hiſtorical com⯑poſition, 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 fa⯑mous antique trunk of his country⯑man Seneca in white marble, and acquitted himſelf ſo happily in this arduous undertaking, that he was generally thought to have ex⯑celled the original, and, in teſti⯑mony of his triumph, the Romans [131] cauſed to be engraved upon it the following words—Victor it Spag⯑nuolo. He compoſed a treatiſe, in which he compares the antient and modern art and practice of paint⯑ing: 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 reſi⯑dence at Rome, and in the church of the Holy Trinity he was em⯑ployed amongſt the principal art⯑iſts of the time, and left there [132] ſome paintings in freſco of diſtin⯑guiſhed excellence: Amongſt theſe artiſts Federico Zucaro was engaged, with whom Ceſpedes formed an in⯑timate and laſting friendſhip; as I have been led to give ſome in⯑ſtances 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 de⯑clined the commiſſion, giving for anſwer, that while Pablo de Ceſ⯑pedes 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 compoſi⯑tion of the Laſt Supper in the high church: Palomino gives this picture great commendation for the nice diſcrimination of charac⯑ters in Chriſt and his diſciples, and relates a circumſtance of the diſ⯑guſt, which Ceſpedes conceived from the ſilly adoration of ſome of his countrymen, who were ſo en⯑chanted with the execution of ſome vaſes and jars of porcelain intro⯑duced into the piece, that they to⯑tally overlooked the ſuperior parts of the compoſition, and, this be⯑ing repeated upon ſeveral viſits by [134] the mob of ſpectators, which the fame of ſo great a work drew to⯑gether, it angered him to that de⯑gree, that he would have pro⯑ceeded to ſtrike out all theſe ſub⯑ſervient 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 pro⯑duced a painter ſuperior to Ceſ⯑pedes: In anatomy, drawing and perſpective he was peculiarly cor⯑rect: His angels in the Martyr⯑dom of Santa Catalina, a picture which he painted for the late Je⯑ſuits' college at Cordova, are touch⯑ed with all the colouring and ef⯑fect of Coregio, whom he much [135] reſembled in thoſe particulars. This great man is no leſs cele⯑brated for his extraordinary virtue, modeſty and humility, than for the variety and extent of his ge⯑nius; 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 Ceſ⯑pedes, hujus almae eccleſiae Porcio⯑narius. Picturae, ſculpturae, archi⯑tecturae, omniumque bonarum artium, variarumque linguarum peritiſſimus, hic ſitus eſt, obiit anno Dom. MDCVIII. ſeptimo Kalendas Sex⯑tilis. Of the other religious art⯑iſts before mentioned Father Ni⯑colas Fattor died in the year 1588, after being admitted to a conver⯑ſation [136] in perſon with our Lady of Atocha: Franciſco Galeas died in 1614, and Juan de la Miſeria two years after him: This laſt-men⯑tioned 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 Te⯑reſa 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, find⯑ing 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 cathe⯑dral of Seville, exclaimed in rap⯑ture 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 remark⯑able teſtimony of his own candour and the merit of de Vargas, of which we have before taken no⯑tice.

There are ſeveral paintings by de Vargas in the famous cathedral of Seville, particularly in the tow⯑er, which was his laſt work. Luis de Vargas was not leſs remark⯑able for his devotion, than for his talents, and, following the exam⯑ple 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 up⯑on 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 deſcrip⯑tion, 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 exe⯑cuted: I know no method of ſpeaking intelligibly on the ſub⯑ject of any particular Spaniſh [140] painter, whoſe name and character are unknown to the reſt of Eu⯑rope, except by comparing him with ſome artiſt of general noto⯑riety; and yet Spain has produced ſome, whoſe manner is ſo much their own, that it will not be il⯑luſtrated by any known compari⯑ſon; of this ſort was the great artiſt whom I am next to men⯑tion, Juan Bau^a. Juanes, a na⯑tive of Valencia; a man, whoſe ce⯑lebrity 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 emanci⯑pation could be ſet at liberty, and made to circulate through the ca⯑binets 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 al⯑tar before he viſited the eaſel; painting with him was an act of piety and devotion: The charac⯑ters, 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 en⯑gaging 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 poſ⯑ſeſſion: [142] Both Pacheco, and Lauren⯑tio Surio give him high encomi⯑ums; theſe he moſt unqueſtionably merits, but credulity will never go ſuch lengths upon their autho⯑rity, 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 diſ⯑play, of which the mortmain of ſuperſtition ſeems for ever to de⯑prive 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 Villa⯑nueva, belonging to the Auguſ⯑tine [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 de⯑vout 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 Jor⯑dan by this artiſt; he has intro⯑duced 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 ex⯑preſſion 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 ca⯑thedral 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 Valen⯑cia; 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 ob⯑ject of general veneration, and by the devout and credulous conſi⯑dered as an actual original, or very little removed from an ori⯑ginal; 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 Aſſump⯑tion, 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 fol⯑lowing 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 vi⯑ſitor, communicated to Juanes the honourable office of fulfilling the commands, which he himſelf was unable to execute: the devout painter ſate to work with extraor⯑dinary preparations for the taſk, and, having ſketched a groupe af⯑ter the deſcription of Alberto, pre⯑ſented it to the Father for his opi⯑nion; 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 ſud⯑denly 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 cir⯑cumſtance of the reſcue, I do not [150] ſee how we can diſpute the like⯑neſs, 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 opi⯑nions of any reaſonable man. This great artiſt died in 1579, in the town of Bocairente in Valen⯑cia, 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. Re⯑duced 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 ad⯑vanced 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 flouriſh⯑ed in Spain during the reign of Philip the ſecond; that prince died in September 1598, at his fa⯑vourite monaſtery of San Lorenzo in the moſt deplorable and loath⯑ſome ſtate of miſery, to which hu⯑man nature can be reduced before its actual diſſolution: It muſt be acknowledged he was a liberal pro⯑tector 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, ap⯑pears to have loſt none of its force during the reign of his ſon and ſuc⯑ceſſor Philip the IIId. Artiſts of diſ⯑tinguiſhed abilities will be found in this period. Bartolome Gonzalez, a native of Valladolid and a diſ⯑ciple 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 emi⯑nent 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 for⯑mer of theſe was a ſcholar of Ti⯑tiano'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 fa⯑mous Patricio Caxes, a noble Flo⯑rentine, 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 Caſ⯑tile. 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 ex⯑travagance 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 compa⯑nions: 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 pic⯑ture was, with ſome degree of dif⯑ficulty, admitted to a place, though not very conſpicuous in the Sala de Capitulo; whilſt Romulo Cin⯑cinnato was deputed in his ſtead to the more honourable taſk of paint⯑ing 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 ſa⯑criſty, [158] and is ſo entirely in the ſtile and manner of Titiano, that his re⯑putation could have ſuffered no in⯑jury 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 un⯑der the title of San Eſtevan in the city of Toledo, in commemoration of which pious act Dominico has re⯑preſented 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 be⯑fore mentioned, was founded by this noble and devout perſon: This picture, and that on the part⯑ing of our Saviour's raiment are the moſt capital performances of this author in Spain; there are va⯑rious others however both at To⯑ledo and Madrid, but chiefly at the former city, which would well repay the curioſity of a tra⯑veller: 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. Domi⯑nico 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 Ro⯑mulo, 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 ap⯑pointed [161] ambaſſador extraordinary from Philip the IVth, for the pur⯑poſe 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 Por⯑tugal, where the ceremony was performed by Cardinal Trexo Par⯑riagua, 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 in⯑genious [162] artiſt died in the city of Rome, and was buried in the church of San Lorenzo, with all the cere⯑monials due to a Knight of the order and a man of ſo diſtinguiſhed a genius. Philip the IVth of Spain had the conſideration to ſo⯑licit 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 emi⯑nence, that it is exceedingly dif⯑ficult to diſtinguiſh their reſpec⯑tive 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 pro⯑poſed 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 Valen⯑cia, 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 chap⯑ter-houſe [164] of the Carmelitiſh con⯑vent, 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 exe⯑cution. It is related of Fran⯑ciſco 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 Di⯑vino Rafaelo! judging it to be a capital performance of that maſter; upon being told of his miſtake by the nuncio, he proceeded to exa⯑mine it afreſh with great attention, and concluded with a common Spaniſh proverb, Que verdadera⯑mente [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 Ri⯑balta died in Valencia in 1600, and his ſon in 1630; he had the ho⯑nour of being the firſt maſter of Ribera called Span̄olet.

Adriano of Cordova was a lay brother of the barefooted Carme⯑lites; his works are few and con⯑fined to the city abovementioned; the chief compoſition is a cruci⯑fixion, in which he has introduced the mother of Chriſt, San Juan and la Magdalena, with other fi⯑gures of half length, in the man⯑ner of Rafael Sadeler, to whom he was greatly attached; this picture [166] is in the antichamber to the ſa⯑criſty 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 pic⯑tures, 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 va⯑luable 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 purga⯑tory! ſome very valuable pictures [167] were reſcued from extinction by their influence and authority.

Vicencio Carducho, a Florentine, the brother and ſcholar of Bartho⯑lome 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 fol⯑lowing memorandum, inſcribed on a picture of San Geronimo, in the great church of Alcala de He⯑nares—Vincentius Carduchi Floren⯑tinus, [168] hic vitam non opus finin anno 1638. He died at the age of 70 years: He inſtructed the fa⯑mous Rizi, who was painter to Philip the IVth and Charles the IId, and formed many other diſ⯑ciples in his academy.

Philip the IIId died and was ſucceeded in 1621 by his ſon Phi⯑lip 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 him⯑ſelf at the feet of the Infanta, ſiſter of Philip, and conclude, as he be⯑lieved, 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 Ru⯑bens of Antwerp: This great maſ⯑ter was then in his forty-ſixth year; had concluded a long courſe of ſtudy in Italy, being in high eſti⯑mation, upon his return to Flan⯑ders, and greatly in favour with the Archduke Albert and the In⯑fanta 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 exe⯑cuted 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 gal⯑lantry could deviſe, extended themſelves to the perſon of his in⯑genious companion. Olivares, then the miniſter of Spain, had ſplendor, and Philip was in poſ⯑ſeſſion 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 cabi⯑nets of Philip now diſplayed ſuch ſuperb compoſitions of theſe maſ⯑ters, 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 ad⯑mired; when theſe copies were finiſhed, it was expected, that Philip ſhould preſent them to the Prince of Wales, and the compli⯑ment would ſurely have been a worthy one both to Charles and to his favourite artiſt; but the ge⯑neroſity 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 pro⯑per 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 engage⯑ments with the Infanta: to reject the ſiſter and yet to retain the pre⯑ſents of the Catholic monarch would have been a conduct irre⯑concileable to the ſpirit and prin⯑ciples of Charles; though his at⯑tachment to the arts was as ardent as any man's, he had the ſenti⯑ments 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 tak⯑ing from the Royal ſtock in Spain, has been the means of ſome addi⯑tions to it of the higheſt value. Charles, having taken his depar⯑ture 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 hunt⯑ing-ſeat of the Torre de la Prada, in the neighbourhood of Madrid, applied to that artiſt for ſeveral pictures in character with the pa⯑lace, 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 tranſ⯑mitted 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 mini⯑ſter, had compleated his founda⯑tion 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 fa⯑vourite and to make a merit with the religious of that order, com⯑miſſioned [175] Rubens for ſome pic⯑tures, 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 exe⯑cution, not to be exceeded by any of the maſter; the firſt is an alle⯑gorical compoſition on the Tri⯑umph of Religion, which he has perſonified and habited very grace⯑fully: This figure is ſeated in a ſu⯑perb triumphal carr, drawn by four angels, with others in atten⯑dance, bearing the croſs and other ſymbols, properly in character; four figures, that expreſs the va⯑rious 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 cheru⯑bims, that hover over the groupe, with chaplets of various deſcrip⯑tions in their hands, diſpoſed with ſingular art and aſtoniſhing effect: The other, which companions it in ſize, is the Interview of Abra⯑ham and Melchiſedech, who of⯑fers him bread and the tenth of the ſpoils; in the drapery of the prieſts, and the armour of the ſol⯑diers, Rubens has exhauſted every reſource, that his fund of colour⯑ing could ſupply; there are two other pictures in this ſmall but precious collection of the ſame author, and of equal ſize and ex⯑cellence with the above, that can⯑not [177] be paſſed over in ſilence; they hang in the choir, that on the left⯑hand 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, com⯑poſitions 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 perform⯑ances are ſuffering daily for want of new ſtraining and the obvious repairs, which, if not ſpeedily ap⯑plied, 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 comfort⯑ing 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 Car⯑melite, 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 pro⯑phet; but, whatever, flaws a ſcru⯑pulous [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 autho⯑rity: 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 fi⯑gures in theſe pieces are above na⯑tural ſize.

The three great kingdoms of Europe (Spain, France and Eng⯑land) 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 ta⯑lents, 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 be⯑tween Charles, who had lately ſuc⯑ceeded to the throne, and the prin⯑ceſs Mary, whom that prince had ſeen at Paris in his way to Spain, and of whoſe beauty and attractions we have ſuch ſtriking teſtimo⯑nials under the hand of Vandyke. Though Buckingham at Madrid [181] had wantonly avowed eternal en⯑mity to the miniſter of Spain, he now entered upon a correſpondence with Rubens on the means of recon⯑ciling the kingdoms, and this pro⯑duced 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 ſe⯑veral other figures; a magnificent performance, and for which he re⯑ceived 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 punc⯑tilios 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 por⯑traits, particularly of the Land⯑grave, the Duke of Saxony and the great Alva; he made a con⯑ſiderable addition to his grand compoſition on the Adoration of the Magi, which now holds ſo con⯑ſpicuous a place in the Madrid col⯑lection; of all the crown of Spain poſſeſſes of the works of this emi⯑nent 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 ſtrong⯑ly 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 collec⯑tion with independent taſte and de⯑termination not to be told what he is to feel, and where he is to ad⯑mire, and will ſtop a while to con⯑template 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 hu⯑man, will own with me that Ru⯑bens in this affecting piece has touched the paſſions with ſome⯑thing 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 cataſtro⯑phe 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 man⯑ner [186] expoſed to view in the one caſe as in the other, but what a contraſt! Mengs has indeed labour⯑ed 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 pre⯑judice 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 ido⯑latry [187] of their religion: Mengs is the critic, who, profeſſedly treat⯑ing 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 Martyr⯑dom of the apoſtle San Andres, which now makes the altar-piece of the Flemiſh chapel, an enchant⯑ing 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 de⯑parture, not without many diſ⯑tinguiſhing tokens of favour from his Catholic Majeſty, by whoſe order the Conde Duque de Oli⯑vares preſented Rubens with a ring worth two thouſand ducats; he was alſo made ſecretary to the privy council at the court of Bruſ⯑ſels for his life, with the ſucceſſion to his ſon Alberto, a very conſider⯑able benefice. Having now attend⯑ed 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 ho⯑nour 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 pre⯑ſent themſelves to my view, that, whilſt I perceive the impracticabi⯑lity of recording all, I feel repug⯑nance 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 com⯑petition with the celebrated Velaz⯑quez in the branches both of hiſ⯑torical 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 encourage⯑ment 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 Car⯑ducho 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 Fa⯑miliar of the Inquiſition in that city, a diſciple of Baſſan, and pro⯑tected by the miniſter Olivares, who employed him in the paint⯑ings, 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 com⯑ing out of the ſepulchre, over the [193] door of the ſacriſty of the cathe⯑dral, and in the chapel de los Reyes nuevos belonging to the ſaid church a Nativity, which compa⯑nions 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 imi⯑tate his vulgarity of taſte; in cor⯑rectneſs of drawing he has been rarely exceeded: He was buried in the pariſh church of San Barto⯑lome at Toledo, in which he died far advanced in years, and is de⯑ſervedly to be numbered amongſt the moſt eminent Spaniards of his profeſſion.

Franciſco Fernandez and Alonſo [194] Vazquez, were the favourite diſci⯑ples, 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 acade⯑my in that city, with great repu⯑tation and ſucceſs; Velazquez, wh [...] afterwards roſe to ſuch high ho⯑nours and favour with his King [...] was a diſciple of Pacheco's at thi [...] time, Vazquez and Pacheco wer [...] [195] rival artiſts and painted ſome pic⯑tures profeſſedly in competition for the cathedral of the convent of barefooted Carmelites, and other places; the manner of Pa⯑checo, though learned and cor⯑rect, was harſh and dry in the ex⯑treme, 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 eſ⯑pouſe his taſte and formed him⯑ſelf 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:

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 me⯑deſty: [197] He died in Seville in 1654, having ſurvived his competitor Vazquez four years. As to Franciſco Fernandez, who was unqueſtion⯑ably 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 Eu⯑rope 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 particu⯑lar it has been frequently com⯑pared to Greece, and, like Greece, [198] has been found uncommonly pre⯑liric 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 en⯑quire; the ſeeds of genius, like thoſe of any other tender plant, may well be ſuppoſed ſuſceptible of nutrition, advancement or re⯑preſſion, by the operations of the atmoſphere; and if this obtains in the general, I think we may con⯑clude for it more ſtrongly in fa⯑vour of the particular art now un⯑der conſideration, than of any other perhaps in the whole cata⯑logue of human ſtudy or inven⯑tion: Painting, which is an ope⯑ration [199] manual as well as mental, demands the joint vigour and ex⯑ertion 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 tempera⯑ture for their preſervation and continuance: Theſe are to be had in their higheſt perfection in Spain, as well as Greece. If the Ice⯑lander [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 extre⯑mity of climate, where every fibre is unſtrung by relaxation, all, who have experienced, know the inap⯑titude both of mind and body to⯑wards any action or employ of ei⯑ther; 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 ha⯑bitable earth, where nature has declared herſelf againſt the pro⯑duction [201] of painters, and no por⯑tion yet diſcovered where an aſ⯑ſemblage 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 pain⯑ters a greater inſtance of poverty in the extreme, than what Ri⯑bera experienced, yet his preten⯑ſions in reſpect of family were as high and his blood as pure as moſt in Spain: This pride of pe⯑digree 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 Caſ⯑tilian, though in rags and wretch⯑edneſs: 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 Portu⯑gueſe: To be a mender of ſhoes, or in vulgar phraſe a cobler, is no degradation to a Spaniard's dig⯑nity; 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 inhe⯑ritance young Ribera entered him⯑ſelf a diſciple of Franciſco de Ribalta, as I have already related; how long he continued, or how far he pro⯑ceeded to form the peculiarities of his taſte under the tuition of this maſter, I cannot preciſely aſcer⯑tain; [204] he was certainly very young, when he firſt went to Rome, be⯑cauſe it was there he firſt received the puerile appellation of Il Spag⯑noleto, or the Little Spaniard; and that this was in early time is alſo manifeſt from other reaſons: As for his ſingularity in chuſing ſub⯑jects 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 ad⯑verſity 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 emi⯑nently diſtinguiſhed: England is in poſſeſſion of ſo many examples in this caſt of the author, that I ſhall not enter into a minute de⯑ſcription of his works in Spain; but I cannot diſpenſe with myſelf from obſerving, that he is capable of expreſſing his ideas with uncom⯑mon 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 un⯑known to me before I went to Spain; at the ſame time in a pri⯑vate cloſet at the Eſcorial, where there is an altar belonging to the Prior, and to which admittance is rarely allowed, I felt equal ſur⯑prize and delight at being ſhewn a ſmall Holy Family by Michael An⯑gelo 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 ſea⯑tures; 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 na⯑ture, does not violate it; appear⯑ing 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 great⯑neſs 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, notwith⯑ſtanding the falſe effeminate deli⯑cacy of modern taſte and faſhion in pictures, now prevailing in Eng⯑land, which diſcourages all at⯑tempts at tragedy in painting and [209] ſhrinks from an Ugolino and Pro⯑metheus with as much dread and horror, as a modern petite maitreſſe would from the ſpectacle of a bull⯑fight. Such an academician as young Ribera could not long re⯑main 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 ſupe⯑riority of his talents, and par ex⯑cellence gave him the name of Il Spagnoleto; and a certain Cardinal, one day paſſing in his coach, ob⯑ſerved 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 evi⯑dent he was abſolutely in want. The Cardinal called him to his coach-ſide and, ordering him to his palace, immediately domici⯑liated 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 plea⯑ſures, 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 preſ⯑ſed upon his conſcience, and the ruin, which his genius was now me⯑naced 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 dig⯑nity of ſoul, and poverty at once: Perhaps the hiſtory of human na⯑ture will afford few examples of ſo ſtrong an act.

He had now all his former mi⯑ſeries to encounter with the aggra⯑vating contraſt of experienced de⯑lights: In addition to all theſe he was to ſuffer the reproaches of his protector, who, occaſionally meet⯑ing [212] him, upbraided his ingrati⯑tude in the ſevereſt terms: The virtuous Spaniard made a ſuitable reply, and, cheering himſelf with the reſources of his art and the ap⯑plauſes 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 diſ⯑pleaſing to him. The meagre en⯑couragement he found in Rome determined him to ſeek his better fortune at Naples: For this place he ſet out in a ragged jacket, hav⯑ing 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 clear⯑ly 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 de⯑ſign of converting his ſervant into his ſon-in-law: He had an only child, a daughter; the girl being exceedingly handſome, and the fa⯑ther very rich, an abundance of ſuitors preſented themſelves to the choice of her parents, but, the mo⯑ment which Providence had de⯑creed 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 maſ⯑ter 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 re⯑buke; 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 con⯑quered 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 abun⯑dance 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 preſent⯑ed 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 aggra⯑vated beyond it: He ſelected all that ſacred or claſſic hiſtory afford⯑ed [216] in the terrible; all that the pa⯑gan 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 huſ⯑band'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 pa⯑lace of the Buen Retiro. Many other pictures of this maſter were collected by the Viceroys of Naples for the King and alſo for particu⯑lar 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 ſub⯑ject 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 men⯑tioned, [218] whom he married to a man of diſtinction in Naples. He left be⯑hind him a tract in manuſcript on the principles of the art of painting, which is reported to have been a moſt elaborate and excellent com⯑poſition.

Luis Triſtan, a diſciple of Domi⯑nico Greco, was born in a ſmall vil⯑lage 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 treat⯑ment 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 ob⯑ſerved, were in that period con⯑ſiderable 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 va⯑nity 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 re⯑corded as acts of voluntary piety and meritorious munificence: The monks of La Siſla in the neighbour⯑hood 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 com⯑miſſion 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 per⯑formance; nothing remained to be adjuſted but the price, and the de⯑mand of the artiſt being for 200 ducats was deemed exorbitant; the Fathers referred themſelves to Do⯑minico, 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 deli⯑berately ſurveyed the piece, he [221] turned ſuddenly to his diſciple and with a menacing tone and air, lift⯑ing 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 fa⯑vour, was however ſoon reverſed, when Dominico directed his diſ⯑ciple 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 en⯑comiums on the performance, he began to put his deciſion into exe⯑cution: Vexation and ſurprize now took poſſeſſion of the convicted [220] [...] [221] [...] [222] monks, their murmuring and com⯑plaints were changed to inter⯑ceſſions, and, after ſufficient a⯑tonement on their part, the mo⯑ney was paid and the picture ſur⯑rendered to the refectory and obli⯑vion: Certainly it is a capital com⯑poſition, 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. Triſ⯑tan 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 Triſ⯑tan.

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 altar⯑piece in four compartments repre⯑ſenting the ſubjects of the four Paſquas, viz. the Nativity, the Re⯑ſurrection, 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 na⯑tural idea of that zealous yet of⯑fending diſciple in the moment of recollection and remorſe. The [224] college of San Eſtevan at Sala⯑manca contains ſome works of this maſter, whoſe excellence as an art⯑iſt and whoſe irreproachable ſanc⯑tity 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 Oli⯑vares is introduced animating the troops to action by preſenting to their view a portrait of King Phi⯑lip, a brilliant thought and a courtly compliment to both par⯑ties. 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 teſ⯑timony, than his being one in the following groupe of artiſts, re⯑corded by the famous Lope de la Vega in the following lines: