As the flower of Bramante's life went by during his long stay in Upper Italy, it is there that his pictorial talents must be appreciated, and that his most numerous, if not his most famous fabrics, may be found. But when Lombardy became the battle-field of Italian independence, when art was there neglected and personal safety compromised, he bethought him of the monuments of antique genius still scattered over the capital of her classic times, and came to Rome in quest of improvement as well as employment. The moment was not propitious, for Alexander VI. was no Maecenas. Yet in the public works, both of fresco-painting and architecture, Donato had a share; and he supplied designs for several private churches and palaces, varying the scene of his labours by prolonged visits to Naples and Tivoli.

On the accession of Julius II. his star rapidly rose to the zenith of his reputation. His Urbino extraction was a recommendation to the new Pontiff, which his talents fully justified, while the vast conceptions and daring energy of his Holiness found in Bramante a willing and apt minister. To raise a temple wherein the Christian world might worship the living God, was a project worthy of their united genius, and it was entertained in a manner befitting the enterprise. There, grandeur of design was seconded by resolute purpose; nor were means and will deficient for levying from the piety or fears of mankind contributions apparently inexhaustible. But in a struggle with time, man is seldom victorious. The shadows of age, falling upon the Pontiff and his architect, warned them that their day was far spent. Anticipating the night that approached to arrest their labours, they worked with a zeal which knew no repose, but which proved fatal to the stability of their fabric. Death overtook them both ere any part of St. Peter's approached to completion, yet not before the too hurried masonry had begun to yield under its own weight. The inadequate foundations occasioned much supplementary trouble and outlay to those who conducted the edifice towards a conclusion, which it did not reach until 1626, a hundred and twenty years after it had been begun by Bramante.

By some who witnessed the rapid and indiscriminate destruction of old St. Peter's,—that ancient basilicon, which early art had done its best to decorate, which Christian devotion had sanctified by cherished traditions, and over which time had cast a solemn halo,—Bramante has been blamed as a reckless innovator; and the charge meets a ready response from those who, in their search for primeval monuments of Catholic faith, pass from the glare and magnificence of the modern fane to mourn over broken sculptures and shattered mosaics buried in its rayless crypt. It would be easy to defend the architect at the expense of his master; but upon looking more closely into the charge, we shall find that the original fabric having become ruinous, its reconstruction was begun half a century before the accession of Julius, and that its last remains were not removed until a hundred years later. Thus it would seem that the demolition of so much that is ill replaced to the churchman and scholar of art, even by the gorgeous temple which commands our wondering admiration, must have proceeded from other reasons than haste. The slippery foundations that from time to time have occasioned infinite anxiety and expense, both for the church and adjoining buildings, were doubtless the original cause which lost us the basilicon of Constantine.

But Julius was not the man to devote himself exclusively to one idea, even though a favourite one. Wishing to provide a palace for his successors worthy of the neighbouring fane which he had founded, he put the Vatican into Donato's hands. That pontifical residence, after being enlarged by Nicolas V. and Sixtus IV. was in a great measure reconstructed by Alexander VI., whose predecessor, Innocent VIII., had erected a casino in the adjoining gardens of the Belvidere. In order to unite this casino to the palace, Bramante contrived a double corridor, the vast intervening area of which he designed for festive spectacles. This fine idea, left by him unfinished, was marred by succeeding architects, who broke up the extensive court by cross galleries and unseemly appendages. We may, however, pardon the transmutation, as it has afforded admirable accommodation for the treasures of art, ever since accumulating in these almost boundless museums. In that handsome street to which Julius bequeathed his name, there may be seen near the church of S. Biagio, straggling vestiges of vast substructions, with rustic basements resembling the gigantic masses of fabulous ages, on which have been reared some mean and modern dwellings. These are the sole remains of a vast undertaking, nobly conceived by the Pontiff, and ably commenced by his architect, in order to unite under one palace the scattered law-courts and public offices of Rome. But it was Bramante's misfortune to serve a restless spirit, which attempting more than the span of human life could overtake, left its finest conceptions abortive.

The merits of Bramante were appreciated by his contemporaries as well as by posterity, and gained him a substantial meed of honour and wealth. At the pontifical court he moved in a circle where refinement perfected the emanations of genius, and which included the choicest spirits of a brilliant age. Enriched by papal favour, magnificent in his expenditure, frank and joyous in his nature, he lived up to the advantages of his position, and made his palace the resort of many celebrities: there his Umbrian countrymen, Perugino, Pinturicchio, and Luca Signorelli, frequented his board; and after his death the house was bought by his friend Raffaele. He was a poet, for in Italy all sentiment readily falls into rhyme; but he was likewise a man of the world, whose natural tact and ready fluency compensated for a defective education. Dying in March, 1514, he was buried beneath that splendid fane which he had founded, but which many successive architects failed to raise. No monument testifies the gratitude of his countrymen, yet his name is entwined with garlands of undying verdure, and some of the noblest Italian piles bear the impress of his solid and enduring style.


Fra Bernardo Catelani was a Capuchin monk of Urbino, whose devotion sought scope in the exercise of Christian art, and who is generally considered a follower of Raffaele, although this is doubted by Grossi. Nor does it much matter, for the only work now identified with his name is an altar-piece of the Pietà with two attendant saints, in the church of his order at Cagli. Still less is known of one Crocchia of Urbino, named by Baldinucci as a pupil of Raffaele. His countryman, Centogatti, is said to have exercised the arts of architecture, sculpture, and painting, and to have instructed Duke Francesco Maria I., and also Gian Battista Comandino, in engineering. To him Lomazzo ascribes the invention of baluardi, and the erection of walls round his native town; but in both respects he appears mistaken, as we have had occasion to show in speaking of Francesco di Giorgio.[199]


The patronage extended to Francia by Duke Guidobaldo seems, from Vasari's authority, to have been of a very undiscriminating character, for his commissions to that painter of sweet Madonnas consisted of a Lucrezia, and a set of horse-trappings, whereon was depicted a blazing forest, with various animals escaping from it. Gaye has recovered some facts as to the favour bestowed by this dynasty upon Andrea Mantegna. In 1511, Duchess Elisabetta wrote to interest her brother, the Marquis of Mantua, in favour of his son Francesco, expressing herself as mindful of the regard she had borne his father, on account both of his own merits and his devotion to her family. Andrea's acquaintance with Giovanni Sanzi, already referred to, may have been formed on his journey to Rome in 1488, or on his return thence in 1490; but his fame had ere then reached Umbria, for in 1484 Ludovico Gonzaga, bishop of Mantua, wrote to the Prefect della Rovere, pleading his excuse for declining an order for a Madonna, his time being engrossed in the palace of Mantua. Vasari further tells us that Marco Zoppo, another Lombard painter, took a portrait of Guidobaldo when in the Florentine service. To his reign probably belongs a very grand specimen of Giovanni Bellini in the church of S. Francesco at Pesaro. We have already noticed him as a pupil of Gentile di Fabriano; and his visit to the duchy may have enabled him to confirm his early devotional impressions, by there depicting that favourite theme of the mystic school, the Coronation of the Madonna, surrounded by witnessing saints. The countenances, though without the unearthly inspiration belonging to the Umbrian art, have great beauty softened by reverential sentiment, and a colour which glows even through the dirt of centuries. In the Sta. Maria Nuova of Fano are preserved two of Perugino's finest works, the Annunciation, and the Madonna enthroned between six saints, exhibiting all the qualities of his best time, with less timidity than belongs to his manner. The latter was executed in 1490, and the predella had been considered equal to Raffaele, who of course was then too young for such an undertaking. Such are some of the remaining pictures which must have influenced taste and art in the duchy. The catalogue is far from complete, for in the obscure villages may still be discovered altar-panels of scarcely inferior importance, besides not a few transported thence to Milan, Berlin, and other galleries.