The Ivory Workers of the Middle Ages

by Anna Maria Elizabeth Cust

Legend tells us that this ivory was sent about the year 600 to the Lombard queen, Theodolinda, by Pope Gregory the Great in acknowledgment of her efforts to convert her very barbaric subjects from the Arian heresy to Catholicism.

Three figures are represented, a bearded soldier and a stately lady, who has with her a little boy. It is evidently a portrait group, and has given rise to many questionings; and among the names of the numerous historical personages connected with it are those of the general Constantius, his wife, the famous Galla Placidia, daughter of Theodosius I., and their little son, afterwards Valentinian III. This would place it towards the end of the first twenty-five years of the fifth century. This theory is quite possible, historically; but, judging from the style, the attribution of Molinier is more likely. He considers that the figures represent another trio who lived a quarter of a century earlier. The decadence in art was so exceedingly rapid that it is very doubtful if such good craftsmanship and originality of design were possible at the later period. Molinier suggests that the carving represents the great general Stilicho, who though of Vandal origin, raised himself to a position of great power. He faithfully served Theodosius I., and the Emperor on his deathbed intrusted to him the care of his two young sons.

Stilicho, however, finding his influence in the Eastern Court was checked by Rufinus, concentrated his energies in the West, and practically ruled the Western Empire, and his weak young son-in-law, the Emperor Honorius. He kept the invading hordes at bay by conquest and treaty till his fall in 408, in which year the three persons depicted on these tablets—Stilicho, his wife Serena, adopted daughter and niece of Theodosius I., and their young son, Eucherius, were all cruelly murdered. This attribution would date it about 400, and an examination of the style supports the idea. The proportions are good, and the drapery well rendered, especially Serena’s girdled tunic. The whole design shows originality, and the figures being portraits, the craftsman was thrown on his own resources and could not copy from classical sculpture.

The pose of the figures is somewhat uneasy, and contrasts unfavourably with the grace of the Bacchantes on the beautiful private diptych, part in the Musée de Cluny, and part in the Victoria and Albert Museum (No. 58), which probably formed the cover of a marriage contract between the families of the Nicomachi and the Symmachi. These tablets, though nearly of the same date, adhere closely to some Greek model, and though gaining much in beauty, lose in originality.

Camille Jullian in an interesting article[2] points out how in the midst of thoroughly Roman surroundings, it is only the energetic face of Stilicho which is not Roman in type and betrays his barbarian origin.

The short tunic worn by Stilicho is embroidered all over with pictures of his wife and son, his long chlamys having only portraits of the boy. It was a popular custom at this period to have the portraits of near relations embroidered on State garments, especially pictures of children. The poet Claudian in his panegyric on Stilicho, alludes to scenes from the lives of Eucherius and his little sisters being embroidered on the robe of their father. More often the portrait was on a square of stuff, or segment, which was let into the front of the garment ([see Fig. 5]).

The first diptych of certain date is that of Probus, Consul at Rome, 406, No. 2 ([Fig. 3]), and probably intended as a gift for the Emperor Honorius, who is depicted thereon as a figure of heavy proportions, borrowed from the common type of imperial statue. The head is evidently a portrait, as even at the most decadent period there was always a striving, even if an unsuccessful one, after portraiture and naturalism.

It is interesting to note the nimbus round the head of Honorius. In heathen times the nimbus was given to the immortals[3] and to images of the deified emperors. Christian art adopted it, but not invariably, and it appears to have been regarded more as an attribute of power than saintliness. Though Christ and his disciples and the Old Testament[4] heroes received it, it also encircled the heads of the great people of this world. We find it on the celebrated Justinian mosaics at S. Vitale in Ravenna, and on the medals of Justinian, and as late as the eleventh century on the plaque of the Emperor and Empress, Romanus and Eudoxia, in the Bibliothèque nationale at Paris ([Fig. 20]).

Next in date and infinitely coarser in execution is that of Felix, 428 (No. 3); the head is of a rugged type, and the Consul is represented standing alone at the door of his house. Asturias, 449 (No. 4), on the contrary, is throned high in front of a colonnade and accompanied by two attendants. In the tablet, however, of the Consul Boethius, 487 (No. 5), we see for the first time the Consul seated, mappa in hand, signalling the commencement of the games; but the design on the two leaves still has some variation, and on the second leaf he stands without the mappa. The diptych of Sividius, 488 (No. 6), furnishes the earliest example of the tablets of simpler type, which were probably given to people of lower degree. It is decorated by an inscribed medallion surrounded by foliated scrolls and four rosettes. All these are from the Western Empire.