An interesting story is told of Nanteuil’s début in Paris. It is said that he received his first order by following some divinity students to a wine-shop, where they were wont to take their meals. There, having chosen one of the portrait drawings he had brought from Rheims, he pretended to look for a sitter whose name and address he had forgotten. It is superfluous to add that the picture was not recognized, but it was passed from hand to hand, the price was asked, the artist was modest in his demands, and before the end of the repast his career had begun.
One of the most interesting portraits, in his early manner, is that of Cardinal de Retz, engraved in 1650. Morin has likewise left us a portrait of this personage, and it is instructive to compare the two engravings. In Nanteuil’s the background is still somewhat stiff, but the costume is treated simply and directly, while the face shows a judicious blending of line and dot work.
Nothing could be finer and more reticent than Marie de Bragelogne of 1656. The pale, elderly, and somewhat sad face of this old love of Cardinal Richelieu is treated with the greatest sympathy. For the most part, it is modelled with delicate flick work, and where lines are employed, they are so used as to blend perfectly into a harmonious whole. In contrast to the face, the collar is rendered in long, flowing lines, without cross-hatching, entirely in the manner of Claude Mellan. It is from Nanteuil’s own drawing from life and is perhaps the most beautiful of the eight engraved portraits of women we have from his hand.
Pompone de Bellièvre, of 1657, after Le Brun’s painting, has enjoyed among collectors the reputation of being the most beautiful of all engraved portraits. Fine it undoubtedly is; but it lacks that grip of character which is so conspicuously present in Nanteuil’s engravings from life, and for compelling portrait quality it falls short of Pierre Seguier, engraved in the same year, likewise after Le Brun’s painting. Jean Loret certainly does not owe its fame to the beauty of the personage portrayed. It is one of Nanteuil’s most convincing and vital plates. The modelling of the face and the means employed are absolutely adequate. This engraving alone would explain why, in his day, Nanteuil’s greatest fame rested upon the surprisingly life-like quality of his work, whether it be pastel, drawing, or engraving.
To the year 1658 also belongs Basile Fouquet, brother of Nicolas Fouquet, the famous Superintendent of Finance. Not less beautiful than Pompone de Bellièvre, there is a vitality about the Basile Fouquet lacking in the better-known plate.
Three years later, in 1661, Nanteuil engraved the portrait of Nicolas Fouquet—one of his masterpieces of characterization. Nothing could be finer than the way in which he has portrayed the great finance minister, whose ambition it was to succeed Mazarin as virtual ruler of the kingdom. It is a historical document of prime importance, of the greatest beauty, and preserves for all time the features of the then most powerful man in France, gazing out upon the world with a half quizzical expression, totally unaware of the sensational reversal of Fortune already drawing near.
A plate not less admirable in its way—a little masterpiece—is François de la Mothe le Vayer, who was regarded as the Plutarch of his time for his boundless erudition and his mode of reasoning. Nanteuil’s engraving shows him at the age of seventy-five, in full possession of all his intellectual powers and in the enjoyment of that good health which lasted until his death, eleven years later, at the ripe age of eighty-six.
ROBERT NANTEUIL. BASILE FOUQUET
Size of the original engraving, 12⅞ × 9⅞ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston