Gregorio Hernandez did not study in Italy, indeed it has been said that he never went from Valladolid. But this is a mistake. He studied and worked in that city, but we know that he was married in Madrid, and that in 1604 he was in Vittoria, executing the altar-screen for the Church of San Miguel. No actual mention is made of Hernandez’ residence in Valladolid before the year 1605, when in certain contracts we find that he acted as assistant sculptor to the Italian artist Millan Vilmercati. M. Marcel Dieulafoy places the date of his first coming to Valladolid about 1601, the year in which a number of famous artists were summoned to the royal city by Philip II. and the Duke of Lerma.

Of the life of Hernandez we know few details. He was born in Galicia in 1570, a date furnished by the inscription on his portrait, now in the Museum of Valladolid. He died in 1636 at the age of sixty-six, as is shown by the register in the archives of the Church of San Ildefonso. It would seem that he never left Spain. His first known work undertaken as a sculptor was the altar-screen of San Miguel at Vittoria, but he must have executed earlier carvings, as is proved by the payments made for this work—4208 reals for the sculpture, and over 604 reals for the statues in relief—and also by the importance of the position he occupied. Hernandez directed the whole work, choosing as his assistants the master-carpenter Cristobal Velazquez, and the painters Francesco Martinez and Pedro de Salazar.

The activity of Hernandez was very great. From the date of this altar-screen we have a vast number of carvings executed, or supposed to have been executed by him. His studio became the centre of the artistic activities of his day, for the amount of his work necessitated the employment of assistants. This has led to confusion, and there are many carvings attributed to Hernandez which cannot be accepted as the work of his own hand. It is fortunate that the distinctive qualities of his work make it possible to recognise at once those carvings and statues that have been fathered on his name. Hernandez placed special importance on the colourisation of his statues. In an interesting contract made with his habitual polychromist, Diego Valentin Diaz, we find the most minute details laid down, enforcing the care with which the work is to be carried out. The colours chosen “are to be those which are permanent”; “the flesh must be mate,” as, it will be remembered, was enforced by Pacheco, and “in each case the colouring must be suitable to the model painted,” as, for example, “Jesus the tint of an infant, the Virgin that of a young woman, St. Joseph that of a man,” while “the hair and eyes must also be in harmony.” Also, “gilded stuffs and damasked are to be avoided,” and “gold is to be used sparingly on laces and fringes only.” The effect to be aimed at is harmony and truth to nature. It is by this restriction to a sombre and quiet scheme of colour, so different from the startling and tumultuous effects, glittering with gold, of Juni, for instance, that the polychromes of Hernandez may be recognised. His colours, always quiet, give an effect of having been worked on silver or ivory. The polychromes that do not manifest these tones are not by Hernandez; when they bear his name they must have been executed by his pupils apart from his direction. Examples of such spurious works are the immense and highly coloured Sta. Teresa in the Valladolid Museum, and also the Pasos, or groups from the Passion, highly praised by the Spanish writers and used in the religious processions of Valladolid, which have been attributed, certainly erroneously, to Hernandez.

Authentic works of Hernandez may be seen, first in the churches, convents, and museum of Valladolid, and also at Madrid, Palencia, Vittoria, Salamanca, Zamora, Pontevedra, Medina del Campo, and other towns. But in no case must the attribution to Hernandez be accepted without an examination of the works themselves. Those which do not display his qualities, especially in their colourisation, must be accounted as the work of his pupils.

Hernandez continued the practice of Juni in carving his statues as separate figures or in isolated groups. Almost without exception he used wood as his material.

The Museum of Valladolid contains at least three authentic statues by Hernandez. The most important is the Pietà, executed for one of the dispersed convents of the city, a beautiful example of polychrome (Plate 126). The Virgin, whose sorrow is genuinely expressed, with dignity and without exaggeration, supports the dead Christ, a pallid figure finely suggesting death. She wears a red-brown robe partly covered by a blue mantle. The winding-sheet and her veil are white, and also the band attached to the Cross, and are coloured so skilfully that the texture of the stuffs is clearly discernible. M. Marcel Dieulafoy justly says: “The grace and freedom of the modelling is only equalled by the variety and discreet harmony of the painting.” The bas-relief of the Baptism of Christ (Plate 127), though very different, is a work of equal merit, but it has suffered greatly from the damage of time, which has especially injured the beauty of the polychrome. The St. John is a splendid figure of energy and savage strength, and in strong contrast with the Christ, and the contrast is emphasised by the skilful colouring, the complexion of the prophet being browned by exposure to the sun, while that of the Christ is of delicate harmony. The third statue represents St. Francis (Plate 128), a fine and harmonious work. It is coloured in sombre shades, almost monochrome, which speaks for Hernandez’ authorship.

To Hernandez also is attributed the reliquary bust of St. Elizabeth in the museum. It is a work of supreme merit, but the polychrome is too brilliant to make it easy to accept it as the work of Hernandez. The vivid orange-brown of the cape with the blue lining, the violet-purple of the turban, the gleaming white of the veil, and the gold tracery of the breast ornament are not the accustomed tones of the Galician master. But though the statue is probably not by Hernandez—and this is the opinion of M. Marcel Dieulafoy—it is a splendid example of polychrome.

The most famed work of Hernandez is the Mater Dolorosa, preserved and most carefully guarded in the Capilla de la Cruz at Valladolid. The representation is very Spanish in its frank and detailed statement of sorrow. Probably no one who is not Spanish can wholly appreciate the statue. The tears, made of glass set in wood, the reflected stains of blood on the yellow robe and on the sleeves, the pallid face and colourless lips, the deep-set eyes made tragic with bistre rings, the emphasised attitude especially of the hands, do not appeal to those to whom the divine tragedy represented is not a living reality—a part of human life, not an incident of belief. It is necessary to take notice of these things in judging the most Spanish of Spanish sculptures. In this Virgin Hernandez is nearer to Juan de Juni, but his representation of the Mother of Sorrows is much simpler, much nearer to nature—Spanish nature, not our nature, let it be remembered—and therefore his work leaves a deeper and more lasting impression. The Christ at the Column in the Convent of the Carmelites at Avila is another statue of a similar character which is attributed to Hernandez.

The influence of Gregorio Hernandez was far-reaching, and the native sculptors of the seventeenth century, not only in Valladolid but also in the newly-founded school of Madrid, followed in his traditions. Certainly it was his work, with its strong national accent, its sincerity and close following of nature, which in the Northern schools saved Spanish sculpture in large measure from the degradation which, at the close of the seventeenth century, fell upon the sister art of painting.

Gregorio Hernandez had many pupils. We have mentioned Cristobal Velazquez, the master-carpenter who worked with him on the altar-screen of Vittoria. It is probable that he became the pupil of the Galician master. To Cristobal Velazquez must be attributed the beautiful altar-screen of the Church of Las Agustinas at Valladolid, which has been falsely ascribed to Berruguete and to Pompeo Leoni. The references made to Cristobal Velazquez in the contracts for the work, and the fact that he was charged with the “looking over and passing” of the screen after it had been set up, prove his authorship. No mention either of Berruguete or Pompeo Leoni is given, an omission unaccountable if these great artists had participated in the work, when the painters and sculptors are all carefully named. This altar-piece proves that Cristobal Velazquez was a great artist. In the central bas-relief of the Annunciation the Virgin kneels, while the Angel Gabriel, a figure of supreme beauty and nobility, stands upon her right side. Above is a fine Pietà, and to the right and left are the figures of St. Augustin and St. Laurent; while beneath are statuettes of the Evangelists, with two small panels on either side, one of St. Joseph and the Child Jesus, the other of St. Ursula. The architecture, the ornaments, and figures are all finely executed, and the work is one of great beauty and harmony. Unfortunately the colouring, which was carried out by the painter Prado, an artist of great local celebrity who had already decorated the Chapel of Las Huelgas, Burgos, has become so blackened with age that it is difficult to judge its primitive merit.