[Statue by Canova in the Capitol at Washington.]

Engraved by E. Scriven.
MURILLO.
From the original Picture by Himself
in the Private Collection of the King of the French.

Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge.
London. Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street.

MURILLO.

The Spanish school may be said to hold a middle place between the schools of Italy and Flanders. The most natural and the most indigenous style it can boast is, unquestionably, that of Murillo, who was never out of Spain; and although it is true that he formed his manner, in a great degree, from the study of Ribera and Vandyck, the principles of those painters are so different, that it would be difficult to recognise either model in a union of the two. But Murillo superadded much that was his own, and much that was immediately, and somewhat too indiscriminately, derived from the observation of nature. The artists of the school of Seville, of which Murillo is the chief, were generally called naturalistas, as opposed to those who followed the Italian purity of taste in design, invention, and imitation. Although it is hardly safe to class all the professors of one province under a particular designation, the earlier school of Valencia may be considered the rival of the naturalistas: its Italian character is to be traced from Vincent Juanes, who was compared by Palomino to Raffaelle; in Ribalta, a work by whom, it is said, was mistaken in Rome for a performance of Raffaelle’s; in Jacinto Gerónimo di Espinosa, by Cean Bermudez called a second Domenichino; and in Pedro Orrente and Luis Tristan, who imitated Bassano and Titian. The appearance in Italy of the fac-similists and tenebrosi (corresponding with the Spanish naturalistas, with whom they are connected by Ribera’s imitation of Caravaggio) is considered, with some reason, to have hastened the decline of painting in that country; in Spain and Flanders, on the other hand, the art which had before been a feeble or mannered imitation of the best Italian works, then only began to be great when the style of the naturalistas was introduced. The practice of the Sevillian painters in copying objects of still life as a preparatory study, was probably derived from the Netherlands, and this style again, which was ominous of degradation and decay in Italy, was the cause of much of the excellence of the Andalusian painters. The taste of these painters, in short, was for individual nature; a taste which was in some degree, and in spite of themselves, corrected by their being almost exclusively employed in painting for churches. The arts in Spain, from their earliest introduction, have been devoted to religion; nor is it to be wondered that this should be the case in a country which seems to have considered itself in an especial manner the representative of Catholicism, a natural consequence, perhaps, of its defending the outposts of Christendom from the infidels. The representation of the human figure is strictly forbidden by the Koran, and there can be no doubt that the spirit of opposition was manifested in this point, as in every other, by the antagonists of the Moors. The conquest of Granada at the close of the fifteenth century happens to correspond with the beginning of the great æra of art in Italy, but the demand for altar-pieces in Spain, before and after that time, is proved by a constant influx of Italian, Flemish, and even German painters; a fact which is commonly explained by the wealth which flowed or was expected to flow into the country by the discovery of America about the same period. However this may be, so late as the seventeenth century, when painting may be supposed at length to have been appreciated for itself, and to have been applied to the ends of general cultivation, as the handmaid of history and poetry, it is a curious fact that neither Roelas, Castillo, nor Murillo, not to mention earlier names, ever painted a mythologic or merely historic subject. From the sublimest mysteries of the church, and from themes demanding more than ordinary elevation, the Sevillian painters turned with eagerness to the homely materials of modern miracles, and from these descended only to indulge their fondness for indiscriminate imitation. The pictures of Beggar Boys by which Murillo is perhaps most known in this country, come under the class of subjects and display the mode of treatment which a school of mere copyists of nature would prefer. Some works of this kind, however, attributed to Murillo, and possessing great merit, are said, with probability, to be the work of Nuñez de Villavicencio, his pupil. It was, however, precisely such studies as these, which enabled Murillo and his contemporaries to infuse into their religious subjects that powerful reality which was among the means of naturalizing the art in Spain, and which thus produced a new style, uniting sometimes the dignity of the Italian School with the truth and vivacity of Flemish imitation.

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo is supposed by the writers who follow Palomino, among whom Cumberland is one, to have been born at Pilas, a town five leagues west of Seville, in the year 1613; but the discovery of the memorial of his baptism in Seville, with every proof of identity, shows that he was born in that city, January 1, 1618. His early fondness for drawing induced his parents to place him with Juan del Castillo, a designer of some merit, although not remarkable as a colourist. The gentle manners and good education of Murillo soon recommended him to his master, who appears to have preferred him to his other scholars, among whom were Pedro de Moya, and Alonzo Cano; but this preference did not exempt the favourite from the servile offices of grinding colours, preparing canvasses, and all the mechanical preparations which the Spanish painters considered an essential part of an artist’s education. It appears that the schools of Seville generally were deficient in casts from the antique: and in investigating the structure of the human frame, the studies of the artists were chiefly limited to an anatomical figure by Becerra, a sculptor who had returned to Spain early in the sixteenth century, from the school of M. Angelo. The living model was, however, constantly referred to, and the fellow-students of Murillo were in the habit of sitting to each other for portions of figures that were wanted, when they could not afford to pay hired models. It was also the custom of the schools to study drapery arranged on the mannequin, or lay-figure, by the master. It was more usual to paint than to draw from the figures, but no student was permitted to copy the model thus till he had attained dexterity with the brush by imitating objects of still life: a practice which accounts for the number of well-painted Spanish pictures of this class. Such pictures, often representing eatables with kitchen utensils, are known by the general name of Bodegones. Herrera el Mozo was called by the Italians “Lo spagnuolo de’ pesci,” from his skill in painting fish, and Pedro de Camprobin equalled the best masters in fruit and flowers. Velasquez and Murillo, it is said, acquired their power of execution from their early practice in this kind of imitation. The mode of copying the human figure was dictated by these preliminary studies; freedom of hand, a disdain of minuteness more than compensated by powerful effects, indifference as to selection, and consequently, a very moderate degree of beauty of form, distinguish the Spanish naturalistas. About the time Murillo began his career, the school of Seville was rapidly advancing under the influence of four distinguished masters and teachers of the art, Herrera the elder, or, to give him his Spanish appellation, Herrera el viejo, Pacheco, (under both of whom Velasquez studied), Roelas, and Castillo. The greatest emulation existed among their respective scholars; and in all public works in which the latter competed, the credit of the master was considered at stake as well as their own.

Murillo soon distinguished himself in the school of Castillo; his first commissions from public bodies were a Madonna del Rosario, with St. Domingo, painted for the college of Santo Tomas; and a Virgin, with St. Francis and other saints, for the convent of “la Regina.” In these works the artist followed, in some degree, the style of Castillo. His master having removed to Cadiz, the young painter remained without recommendation and without employment, and was compelled to do coarse altar-pictures and saints for the feria, or market, which was held once a week in the parish “Omnium Sanctorum,” and which seems to have been chiefly devoted to the commerce with South America. The paintings offered in this market, or fair, for sale, were generally the work of the most inferior artists, and the expression “pintura de feria” is still proverbially applied to pictures of the lowest class. Such was the rapidity with which these works were done, that it appears it was not uncommon for the artist to produce his saint while the purchaser was cheapening the bargain, and the Spanish writer, whose authority is chiefly followed in this memoir, goes so far as to say, that a San Onofre was presently transformed to a San Cristobal, or a Virgen del Carmen to a San Antonio, or even to the representation of the Souls in Purgatory. Better artists, however, occasionally condescended to paint such pictures, and with some augmentation of price; but even the worst performers were known, in some instances, to acquire such dexterity by this work, that very little additional study in the regular schools converted them into respectable artists. This singular mode of attaining mechanical facility must therefore be reckoned among the causes which influenced the executive style of the Sevillian painters; and Murillo, among others, no doubt benefited by his practice in the feria.

A circumstance occurred about the same time which had great influence on his life. His fellow-student, Pedro de Moya, who had accompanied the army to Flanders, conceived a great admiration for the works of Vandyck, and went to London to study under the Flemish painter, where he soon formed a style bearing a strong resemblance to that of his master. On the death of Vandyck, Moya returned to Seville, where he presently attracted the attention of his former companions by the accurate, yet powerful manner of painting which he had acquired. To Murillo the style was so new, that he determined at once to go either to Flanders or Italy, to perfect himself in the art. It was at this moment that he felt his poverty to be a serious misfortune; but, not dismayed by difficulties, he set to work afresh for his South American and West Indian patrons, and having saved a small sum of money, without communicating his intentions to any one, and without even taking leave of his sister, whom he left with an uncle, he quitted Seville for Madrid, with the intention of proceeding to Italy, at the age of twenty-four. On his arrival at the capital, he naturally waited on Diego Velasquez, who was a native of Seville and had received his professional education there; he was at this time first painter to the king (Philip IV.). To this distinguished artist Murillo opened his desire to visit Italy, and begged some letters of introduction for Rome. Velasquez received him with kindness, promised him assistance, and made him most liberal offers for his immediate advantage. Meanwhile the desire of the young painter to see the best specimens of the art was in a great measure gratified under the auspices of his new friend, by his inspection of the pictures in the Royal Palace, at Buen Retiro, and in the Escorial. He immediately expressed a wish to make copies of some of these works, and while Velasquez accompanied the King to Aragon, in the year 1642, Murillo copied some pictures by Vandyck, Spagnoleto, and Velasquez himself. These copies were shown to the King on his return by Velasquez, and were admired by all the court. The disgrace of the minister Olivarez, in 1643, was deeply felt by Velasquez, to whom the Count Duke had been a generous patron; and although it did not diminish the esteem in which the King held the painter, this circumstance seems first to have disgusted Murillo with Madrid. On the return of Velasquez from Zaragosa, in 1644, he was astonished at the progress of his scholar, and finding him sufficiently advanced to profit by a visit to Italy, he offered to procure for him letters of recommendation and other assistance from the King himself. Murillo had, however, already determined to return to Seville, influenced either by domestic considerations, or by having already satisfied the wish which first urged him to leave his native city. Velasquez regretted this resolution, imagining that the young painter would have arrived at still greater perfection if he could have studied for a time in Rome.

The first works done by Murillo after his return to Seville in 1645 were the pictures of the convent of San Francisco. The building was destroyed by fire in 1810, but several of the paintings are now in the collection of Marshal Soult. In the pictures of San Francisco, Cean Bermudez recognises an imitation of Vandyck, Ribera, and Velasquez, the three painters whom Murillo chiefly studied while at Madrid. His new works excited general attention; so little had he been known before he left Seville, and so studious and retired had been his habits, that his absence had scarcely been noticed, and his re-appearance with so masterly a style of painting astonished his fellow-citizens. The fame of Herrera, Pacheco, and Zurbaran, was at once eclipsed, and he was universally acknowledged the first painter of the Sevillian School. The obscurity in which he had lived before his visit to Madrid was now exchanged for the most flattering attentions of the powerful and wealthy, and many of the chief citizens wished to have their portraits done by him. Meanwhile he painted the Flight into Egypt, in the church de la Merced, which has been attributed to Velasquez, and other works now no longer in Spain. In 1648, he married Doña Beatriz de Cabrera y Sotomayor, a lady of birth and some fortune, a native of Pilas, from which circumstance, perhaps, originated the mistake of Palomino in assigning that town as the birth-place of her husband. A change in his manner of painting, adopted, as Cean Bermudez asserts, to please the public, is observable soon after this period. It succeeded in pleasing all parties, for the new manner was extolled even by the warmest admirers of the previous performances of the master. The works of Murillo may be divided into three distinct styles: the first, necessarily very different from his subsequent manner, is to be sought in the specimens which date before his departure for Madrid; the second, is that which he acquired in the capital, and is exemplified by the works above-mentioned, done immediately after his return; the third manner dates from about 1650, and the first public work which may be cited as illustrating it, is an Immaculate Conception (a subject often treated by the Spanish painters) in the convent of San Francisco, painted in 1652.