The Ivory Workers of the Middle Ages

by Anna Maria Elizabeth Cust

The nameless consular diptych of Bourges (No. 39), divides into two equal registers. Above, the bearded Consul is seated between two guards, on one leaf these have long hair, and may have been intended for Goths, and in the corners of the arch are two eagles exactly like those on the St. Gregory diptych at Monza (No. 44). In each lower half is a bestiarius transfixing lions and leopards with his spear. The treatment, if rough, is free, and the grouping of the lions is somewhat similar to that in the Adam tablet at the Bargello ([Fig. 6]). It is probably fifth or early sixth century.

Meyer quotes the text of Gregory of Tours, who describes the installation of Clovis the Frankish king as Consul of the West in 508, with all the pomp and honour of Roman custom, and repeats the rather problematic suggestion that this diptych commemorates the occasion.

The ivory tablet in the British Museum, called the Apotheosis of Romulus, from a very doubtful reading of the monogram, is probably also of the fifth or even sixth century, though its thoroughly heathen subject seems to necessitate an earlier date. The composition is most elaborate. Below, the Consul, clad in the toga, is seated in an architectural triumphal car drawn by four elephants, each with their driver. In the centre he is seen in miniature driving in a quadriga, which bears him upward, preceded by eagles, from the funeral pile to the heavens, where he is again represented in the hands of winged genii, who present him to the assembled gods.

This is interesting as being an example of that continuous method of composition, in which the same figure is repeated acting in sequence. This method was introduced into Roman art about the Augustan age, and was largely continued by Christian art, especially in the MSS. It gained great popularity, and for a while it seemed doubtful whether the “continuous” or the “episodic” method would be the leading feature in modern art.[7]

Several consular diptychs have been turned to Christian religious uses by slight alterations of the figures, and by the removal of inscriptions and scenes from the games.

The most important transformed diptych is in the Cathedral Treasury at Monza (No. 44), which now represents St. Gregory and King David. The alterations have been considerable, and have given rise to many differences of opinion, but the latest writers, with the exception of Meyer, have gone back to the opinion of the earliest, Gori, who declared the consular origin of these tablets.

St. Gregory did not die till 604, so could not have been canonized before the seventh century, and the style is fully that of the consular diptychs in the first half of the preceding century. The saints are depicted in full consular robes, the right hand raised with the mappa in the act of flinging it into the arena, and in the left the scipio.

The background has the typical decorated arch, supported by cannelated pilasters, over the capitals of which are rectangular spaces having the names of Gregory and David cut with a deep background, as if to destroy any under carving. Above the arch is a cross similar to that on [Fig. 4], on each side are two eagles of the Bourges pattern (No. 39). David sits on a curule chair, his feet resting on a stool in good consular fashion. On each side of the chair, above the leg, is a square with deep cut carving. These squares might have contained the now obliterated busts of Rome and Constantinople, which decorate that part on the diptych of Anastasius (No. 17). In fact the knot and twisted stalks almost follow the outlines of a head and shoulders. There is more deep carving let in a narrow groove between the pilasters and the smooth background, all of which has a Carlovingian character.

St. Gregory has been given a tonsure and his hair has been cut at the expense of his ears, which have been cut away too. The robes are untouched, but Gregory’s sceptre has been altered to a cross. Above the head of David are faint traces of an inscription on the smooth background, and on the other leaf there is a later inscription referring to Gregory’s Antiphonary, to a copy of which the tablets formerly acted as a cover.

On a reliquary book cover at Prague is another consul changed into St. Peter (No. 45). This figure has suffered considerably, for the trabea has been so much smoothed that it is hardly distinguishable. The mappa has been turned into a volumen or roll, the scipio into a key, and the feet have been bared.