First among these, Margaretta von Eyck deserves mention. She was the sister of Hubert and John von Eyck, who were distinguished not only for enlarged apprehensions of art, but for the discovery and introduction of oil-painting.
While these men were, by their works, preparing the way for an important revolution in the method of painting, Margaretta occupied herself chiefly in painting miniatures. She worked under the patronage of the magnificent and liberal court of Burgundy, and her fame extended even to the countries of the romantic south. It is an interesting sight, this modest woman-work beside the more important enterprises of the gifted brothers, making itself appreciated so as to furnish an example for all time. Sometimes the sister worked with the brother in the decoration of costly manuscripts. One of the finest monuments of their united skill was the breviary—now in the imperial library at Paris—of that Duke of Bedford who, in 1423, married the sister of Philip the Good. Margaretta’s miniatures were preserved also in manuscript romances of the period. One of the earliest historians of Flemish art, Carl von Mander, calls her a “gifted Minerva,” and informs us that she spurned the acquaintance of “Hymen and Lucina,” and lived out her days in single blessedness.
ANOTHER MARGARETTA.
As in Margaretta von Eyck the grand efforts of Flemish art found expression modified by a feminine nature, so had those of the school in Nuremberg through the labors of another Margaretta—a nun from 1459 to 1470 in the Carthusian Convent, where she copied and illuminated religious works. Eight folio volumes were filled by her indefatigable hands with Gothic letters and pictures in miniature, presenting a curious specimen of the blending of the art of the scribe with that of the painter, so common in the Middle Ages.
CATERINA VIGRI.
A third female artist of this period belonged to Italy. Caterina Vigri, a pupil of the Bolognese school, combined with a high degree of talent a quiet gentleness and dignified manner that gained her general esteem. She was born of a noble family in Ferrara in 1413, and exercised her skill chiefly in miniature painting, though several large works are recognized as hers. One of St. Ursula, infolding in her robe her kneeling companions, is exhibited among other fair martyrs in the Pinacothek of Bologna, and, with the pure, calm expression, peculiar to the productions of a preceding age, combines a delicacy, grace, correctness of drawing, and freedom with firmness of touch, not often found at that time. One of her pictures is preserved in the Sala Palladiana of the Venetian Academy. Educated in the most exalted mysticism, she was the founder of the convent of “Corpo di Cristo,” which is yet in existence, and shelters the grave of Caterina as well as many of her works. She poured into these all her religious enthusiasm. Her master was Maestro Vitale. She died in the odor of sanctity, and was spoken of as “the Saint of Bologna.” In 1712 the Catholic Church inscribed her name in the second category of saints, with the title of “Beata,” in virtue of which she is honored to this day as the patron saint of the fine arts. Tradition relates a story of one of her paintings on wood—an infant Jesus—having the power to heal diseases in those who touched the lips of the picture.
THE WARRIOR MAIDEN.
Beside this saintly personage stands one who joined the prowess of the soldier to the genius of the painter. Onorata Rodiana was born at Castelleone in Cremona, in the early part of the fifteenth century, and, while yet young, obtained so high a reputation as a painter, that the Marquis Gabrino Fondolo, the tyrant of Cremona, appointed her to the task of decorating his palace.
The maiden, in the prime of her youth and beauty, was engaged in this work when an accidental occurrence changed the whole course of her life. A courtier of libertine character, who chanced to see her occupied in painting the walls of a room in the palace, entered, and dared to offer an insulting freedom. The young artist repulsed him; but, unable to escape his violence without a desperate struggle, the spirited girl at length drew a dagger and stabbed him to the heart. She then rushed from the palace, disguised herself in man’s clothes, and quitted the city, declaring that she would rather die in obscure exile than accept a luxurious home as the price of dishonor.
The Marquis Gabrino was at first furious at her escape, and commanded a hot pursuit by his soldiers; but soon afterward relenting, he proclaimed her full pardon, and summoned her to return and complete her labors, which no one else could finish. Onorata, however, had, in the mean while, learned the warrior’s business in Oldrado Lampugnano’s band of Condottieri, and her spirit and courage soon elevated her to a post of command. She loved the soldier’s life, and continued in it, painting the while, for thirty years.