This marble tomb of Andrea's contains the portrait of M. Cino, who is represented as teaching a number of his scholars, who are about him, with such a fine attitude and style that it must have been considered a marvellous thing in those days, although it would not be valued now.
Walter, Duke of Athens and tyrant of Florence, also employed Andrea to enlarge the piazza, and to fortify his palace by barring the bottom of all the windows on the first floor, where the hall of the Two Hundred now is, with very strong square iron bars. The same duke also added, opposite S. Piero Scheraggio, the rough stone walls which are beside the palace to augment it, and in the thickness of the wall he made a secret staircase, to mount and descend unperceived. At the bottom face of the wall he made a great door, which now serves for the Customs, and over this he set his arms, the whole after the designs and with the advice of Andrea. Although the arms were defaced by the magistracy of the twelve, who took pains to obliterate every memorial of that duke, yet on the square shield there remained the form of the lion rampant with two tails, as any attentive observer may see. For the same duke Andrea made many towers about the city, and not only began the fine gate of S. Friano, leaving it in its present form, but also made the walls of the portals and all the gates of the city, and the smaller gates for the convenience of the people. And, because the duke purposed to make a fortress on the hill of S. Giorgio, Andrea prepared a model for it, which was never used, as the work was not begun, the duke being driven out in the year 1343. The duke's plan to convert the palace into a strong castle was in great measure effected, for a considerable addition was made to the original building, as may be seen to-day, the circuit comprising the houses of the Filipetri, the tower and houses of the Amidei, and Mancini, and those of the Bellaberti. And because, after this great undertaking was begun, all the materials required for it and for the great walls and barbicans were not ready, he kept back the building of the Ponte Vecchio, which was being hurried forward as a necessary thing, and made use of the dressed stones and timber designed for this without any consideration. Although Taddeo Gaddi was probably not inferior to Andrea Pisano as an architect, the duke would not employ him on these works because he was a Florentine, but made use of Andrea. The same Duke Walter wished to pull down S. Cicilia, in order to obtain a view of the Strada Romana and the Mercato Nuovo from his palace, and would also have destroyed S. Piero Scheraggio for his convenience, but the Pope would not grant him licence. At length, as has been said above, he was driven out by the fury of the people.
For his honoured labours of so many years Andrea not only deserved the highest rewards, but also civil honours. Accordingly he was made a Florentine citizen by the Signoria, offices and magistracies in the city were given to him, and his works were valued during his life and after his death, as no one was found to surpass him in workmanship until the advent of Niccolo of Arezzo, Jacopo della Quercia of Siena, Donatello, Filippo di Ser Brunellesco, and Lorenzo Ghiberti, whose sculptures and other works were such that people recognised in what error they had been living up till then, as these men had again discovered the true excellence which had been hidden for so great a number of years. The works of Andrea were executed about the year of grace 1340.
The pupils of Andrea were numerous, and, among others, Tommaso, architect and sculptor, of Pisa, who finished the chapel of the Campo Santo, and brought the campanile of the Duomo to completion—that is to say, the last part, where the bells are. This Tommaso was Andrea's son, if we may believe an inscription on the high altar of S. Francesco at Pisa, on which a Madonna and other saints are carved by him in half relief, with his name and that of his father beneath. Andrea left a son Nino, who devoted himself to sculpture, his first work being in S. Maria Novella at Florence, where he finished a marble Madonna, begun by his father, which is inside the door, near the chapel of the Minerbetti. Going afterwards to Pisa, he made for the Spina a half-length marble Madonna suckling the infant Jesus Christ, clothed in delicate draperies. In the year 1522 a marble ornament for this Madonna was made for M. Jacopo Corbini, who had a much larger and finer one made for another full-length marble Madonna of Nino, representing with great grace the mother offering a rose to the child, who takes it in childish fashion, and so prettily, that one may say that Nino had made some steps to subduing the roughness of the stone, and endowing it with the attributes of living flesh. The figure is between a St John and a St Peter in marble, the head of the latter being a portrait of Andrea. Nino also made two marble statues for an altar of S. Caterina at Pisa—that is to say, the Madonna and an angel in an Annunciation, executed, like his other works, with such care that they may be considered as the best productions of those times. On the base beneath this Madonna Nino carved the following words: "On the first day of February 1370;" and beneath the angel: "Nino, son of Andrea Pisano, made these figures."
He produced yet other works in that city and at Naples which it is not necessary to mention here. Andrea died at the age of seventy-five, in the year 1345, and was buried by Nino in S. Maria del Fiore with the following epitaph:
"Ingenti Andreas jacet hie Pisanus in urna,
Marmore qui potuit spirantes ducere vultus
Et simulacra Deum mediis imponere templis
Ex acre, ex auro, candenti et pulcro elephanto."
Buonamico Buffalmacco, Painter of Florence.
Buonamico di Cristofano, called Buffalmacco, painter of Florence, who was a pupil of Andrea Tafi, celebrated for his jests by M. Giovanni Boccaccio in his "Decameron," is well known to have been the close companion of Bruno and Calandrino, painters, and themselves facetious and pleasant men. He possessed a very fair judgment in the art of painting, as may be seen by his works, which are scattered throughout Tuscany. Franco Sacchetti relates in his "Three Hundred Tales" (to begin with the deeds of this artist while he was still young) that, while Buffalmacco was a boy with Andrea, it was his master's custom, when the nights were long, to rise to work before dawn and to call the boys. This thing displeased Buonamico, who enjoyed a good sleep, and he tried to devise a plan that should induce Andrea to leave off calling them to work so much before daylight. He soon found one, for in an ill-swept loft he happened to find thirty great beetles or cockroaches. With some thin needles and corks he fixed a small candle on the back of each beetle, and when the hour came for Andrea to rise he lighted the candles and put the beetles one by one through a hole leading into Andrea's room. When the master awoke, just about the hour when he was accustomed to call Buffalmacco, and saw these lights he began to tremble with fear, and to recommend himself to God, repeating his prayers and psalms. At length he put his head under the clothes and did not call Buffalmacco that night, but remained trembling in that posture until the day. The following morning when he arose he asked Buonamico if he, like himself, had seen more than a thousand devils. Buonamico said "No," because he had kept his eyes shut, and had wondered why he had not been called. "What!" said Tafi; "I had something else to think of besides painting, and I am resolved to go and live in another house." The following night, although Buonamico only put three beetles into Tafi's chamber, yet the poor man did not sleep a jot, owing to his fear of the past night and to those devils which he saw. No sooner was day come than he left the house, declaring he would never return to it, and it was long before they were able to induce him to change his mind. But Buonamico brought him the priest of the parish, who consoled him as best he could. When Tafi and Buonamico were talking over the matter afterwards, the latter said: "I have always heard tell that the devils are the greatest enemies of God, and consequently they must also be the chief adversaries of painters, because, besides the fact that we always make them very ugly, We do nothing else but represent saints on walls and tables, in order to render men more devout or better in despite of the devils. For this cause the devils are enraged with us, and as they have more power at night than during the day, they come and play these pranks, and will do worse if this practice of early rising is not entirely abandoned." With these words, and many others, Buffalmacco succeeded in settling the matter, as the priest supported his arguments, so that Tafi left off his early rising and the devils ceased to go through the house at night with lights. But not many months afterwards, when Tafi, induced by desire of gain, and crushing every fear, began once more to rise and work at night and to call Buffalmacco, the beetles also began to make their rounds, so that the master was compelled by fear to give it up entirely, being strongly advised to this by the priest.
When this thing became known through the city, it for a while prevented other painters as well as Tafi from rising to work at night. When, shortly afterwards, Buffalmacco himself became a fairly good master he left Tafi, as the same Franco relates, and began to work by himself, and he never lacked employment. Accordingly he took a house to serve equally as a workshop and a dwelling-house, next door to a worker of wool in easy circumstances, who, being a raw simpleton, was called Goosehead. This man's wife rose early every night, when Buffalmacco, who had worked up to that time, was going to rest, and setting herself at her spinning wheel, which she unfortunately placed over against Buffalmacco's bed, she spent all the night in spinning thread. Buonamico was unable to sleep a moment, and began to devise a means whereby to rid himself of this nuisance. It was not long before he perceived that, behind the brick wall which separated him from Goosehead, was the fire of his objectionable neighbour, and by means of a crack he could see everything that she did at the fire. Accordingly he devised a new trick, and provided himself with a long tube. When he found that the wife of Goosehead was not at the fire, he every now and again put through that hole in the wall into his neighbour's pot as much salt as he wished. When Goosehead returned either to dine or to sup he could, as a rule, neither eat nor drink or taste either soup or meat, as everything was made bitter by too much salt. For a little while he had patience, and only spoke of it or grumbled; but when he found that words did not suffice, he frequently gave blows to the poor woman, who was in despair, because she thought she had been more than cautious in salting the dish. As her husband beat her from time to time, she tried to excuse herself, which only increased the anger of Goosehead, so that he began to strike her again, and as she cried out at the top of her voice, the noise penetrated the whole neighbourhood, and drew thither Buffalmacco among others. When he heard of what Goosehead accused his wife and how she excused herself, he said to Goosehead: "Worthy friend, you should be reasonable; you complain that your morning and evening dishes are too salt, but I only wonder that your wife makes them so well as she does. I cannot understand how she is able to keep going all day, considering that she is sitting up the whole night over her spinning, and does not, I believe, sleep an hour. Let her give up rising at midnight, and you will see, when she has enough sleep, her brain will not wander, and she will not fall into such serious mistakes." Then he turned to the other neighbours, and succeeded so well in convincing them that he had found the true explanation that they all told Goosehead that Buonamico was right, and that he should follow this advice. Goosehead, believing what he was told, ordered his wife not to rise so soon, and the dishes were afterwards reasonably salted, except sometimes when the goodwife had risen early, because then Buffalmacco had recourse to his remedy, a fact which induced Goosehead to cause his wife to give up early rising altogether.
One of the earliest works Buffalmacco did was the decoration of the church of the nunnery of Faenza at Florence, where the citadel of Prato now is. Here he represented scenes from the life of Christ, among other things, everything in which is in good style, and he also did there the massacre of the Innocents by Herod's order. Here he displays with considerable vigour the expressions of the murderers as well as of the other figures, because some nurses and mothers, who are snatching the children from the hands of the murderers, are using their hands, nails, teeth, and every bodily agent to help them as much as possible, showing that their minds are not less full of rage and fury than of grief. As the monastery is destroyed to-day, nothing more of this work is to be seen than a coloured drawing in our book of designs, which contains the sketch for this by Buonamico's hand. In executing this work for the nuns of Faenza, Buffalmacco, who was as eccentric in his dress as his behaviour, did not always happen to wear the hood and mantle customary in those times, and the nuns who sometimes looked at him through the screen which he had caused to be made, began to say to the custodian that they objected to seeing him always in his doublet. After he had reassured them, they remained quiescent for a while. At length, as they always saw him attired after the same fashion, they thought he must be the boy to mix the colours and accordingly they induced the abbess to tell him that they should like to see the master himself at work and not this other one always. Buonamico, who always loved his joke, told them that so soon as the master arrived he would let them know, although he was sensible of the small amount of confidence which they placed in him. Then he took a table and put another on the top of it, setting a water jug on this, over the handle of which he put a hood and then covered the rest of the pitcher in a civilian's mantle, fastening it firmly about the tables. After this he put a brush in the spout from which the water flows, and there left it. When the nuns returned to see the work through an opening where he had torn the canvas, they saw the supposed master in his attire. They believed that he was working there to the utmost of his power, and would do much better than the mere boy had done, so they were several days thinking of nothing else. At last they were anxious to see what beautiful things the master had made. Fifteen days had passed since Buonamico had set foot in the place, and one night they went to see the paintings, thinking that the master could no longer be there. They were covered with confusion and blushes when one bolder than the rest discovered the nature of the solemn master, who had not done a stroke in the fortnight. When they learned that Buonamico had treated them according to their deserts, and that the works which he had made were excellent, they recalled him and he returned with much laughter and joking to take up the work, making them see that there is a difference between men and dummies, and that works must not always be judged by the clothes of those who produce them. After a few days he finished one subject there, with which they were very delighted since it appeared to them to be satisfactory in all its parts, except that the figures in the flesh colouring seemed to them to be rather too pale. When Buonamico heard this and learning that the abbess had the best vernaccia in Florence, which served for the sacrifice of the mass, he told them that in order to remedy such a defect, nothing would be serviceable except to temper the colours with a good vernaccia, for if the cheeks and other flesh parts of the figures were touched with this, they would become red and very freshly coloured. When the good sisters heard this they believed it completely and afterwards kept him supplied with the best vernaccia so long as the work lasted, while he on his part made merry and thenceforward with his ordinary colours rendered his figures more fresh and brilliant.