Dürer’s first copper-plate engraving dates from 1497, and represents four naked women, under a globe bearing the initials of “O Gott Hilf,” or “O God, help,” while human bones strew the floor, and a flaming devil appears in the background. During the next three years the master made twenty copper-plate engravings. The composition of “St. Jerome’s Penance” shows the noble old ascetic kneeling alone in a rocky wilderness, beating his naked breast with a stone, and gazing at a crucifix, while the symbolical lion lies beside him. “The Penance of St. John Chrysostom” depicts the long-bearded saint expiating his guilt in seducing and slaying the princess by crawling about on all-fours like a beast. She is seen at the mouth of a rocky cave, nursing her child. “The Prodigal Son” is another tender and exquisitely finished copper-plate engraving, in which the yearning and prayerful Prodigal, bearing the face of Dürer, is kneeling on bare knees by the trough at which a drove of swine are feeding. In the background is a group of substantial German farm-buildings, with unconcerned domestic animals and fowls. “The Rape of Amymone” shows a gloomy Triton carrying off a very ugly woman from the midst of her bathing Danaide sisters. “The Dream” portrays an obese German soundly sleeping by a great stove, with a foolish-faced naked Venus and a winged Cupid standing by his side, and a little demon blowing in his ear. “The Love Offer” is made by an ugly old man to a pretty maiden, whose waist is encircled by his arm, while her hand is greedily outstretched to receive the money which he offers. Another early engraving on copper shows a wild and naked man holding an unspeakably ugly woman, who is endeavoring to tear herself from his arms. Still others delineate Justice sitting on a lion, “The Little Fortune” standing naked on a globe, and the monstrous hog of Franconia.
It was chiefly through his engravings that Dürer became and remains known to the world; and by the same mode of expression he boldly showed forth the doubts and despairs, yearnings and conflicts, not only of his own pure and sorrowful soul, but also of Europe, quivering in the throes of the Reformation.
The artists of Italy, when the age of faith was ended, turned to the empty splendors and symmetries of paganism; but their German brothers faced the new problems more sternly, and strove for the life of the future. Under Dürer’s hard and homely German scenes, there seem to be double meanings and unfathomable fancies, usually alluding to sorrow, sin, and death, and showing forth the vanity of all things earthly. In sharp contrast with these profound allegories are the humorous grotesqueness and luxuriant fancifulness which appear in others of the artist’s engravings, fantastic, uncouth, and quaint. He frequently yielded to the temptation to introduce strange animals and unearthly monsters into his pictures, even those of the most sacred subjects; and his so-called “Virgin with the Animals” is surrounded by scores of birds, insects, and quadrupeds of various kinds.
It is interesting to hear of the rarity of the early impressions of Dürer’s engravings, and the avidity with which they are sought and the keenness with which they are analyzed by collectors. In many cases the copies of these engravings are as good as the originals, and can be distinguished only by the most trifling peculiarities. The water-marks of the paper on which they are printed form a certain indication of their period. Before his Venetian journey Dürer used paper bearing the water-mark of the bull’s head; and, after his return from the Netherlands, paper bearing a little pitcher; while the middle period had several peculiar symbols. A fine impression of the copper-plate engraving of “St. Jerome” recently brought over $500; and the Passion in Copper sold in 1864 for $300.
“The Portfolio” for 1877 contains a long series of articles by Prof. Sidney Colvin on “Albert Dürer: His Teachers, his Rivals, and his Scholars,” treating exhaustively of his relations as an engraver to other contemporary masters,—Schongauer, Israhel van Meckenen, Mantegna, Boldini and the Florentines, Jacopo de’ Barbari (Jacob Walch), Marc Antonio, Lucas van Leyden, and certain other excellent but nameless artists.
Vasari says, “The power and boldness of Albert increasing with time, and as he perceived his works to obtain increasing estimation, he now executed engravings on copper, which amazed all who beheld them.” Three centuries later Von Schlegel wrote, “When I turn to look at the numberless sketches and copper-plate designs of the present day, Dürer appears to me like the originator of a new and noble system of thought, burning with the zeal of a first pure inspiration, and eager to diffuse his deeply conceived and probably true and great ideas.”
In 1497 Dürer painted the excellent portrait of his father, which the Rath of Nuremberg presented to Charles I. of England, and which is now at Sion House, the seat of the Earl of Northumberland. It shows a man aged yet strong, with grave and anxious eyes, compressed lips, and an earnest expression. Another similar portrait of the same date is in the Munich Pinakothek. He also executed two portraits of the pretty patrician damsel, Catherine Fürleger; one as a loose-haired Magdalen (which is now in London), and the other as a German lady (now at Frankfort).
In 1498 Dürer painted a handsome portrait of himself, with curly hair and beard, and a rich holiday costume. His expression is that of a man who appreciates and delights in his own value, and is thoroughly self-complacent. This picture was presented by Nuremberg to King Charles I. of England; and, in the dispersion of his gallery during the Commonwealth, it was bought by the Grand Duke of Tuscany. It is now in the Uffizi Gallery, though Mündler calls this Florentine picture a copy of a nobler original which is in the Madrid Gallery.
During this year Dürer published his first great series of woodcuts, representing the Apocalypse of St. John, in fifteen pictures full of terrible impressiveness and the naturalistic quaintness of early German faith. The boldness of the youth who thus took for his theme the marvellous mysteries of Patmos was warranted in the grand weirdness and perennial fascination of the resulting compositions. This series of rich and skilful engravings marked a new era in the history of wood-engraving, and the entrance of a noble artistic spirit into a realm which had previously been occupied by rude monkish cuts of saints and miracles. Jackson calls these representations of the Apocalypse “much superior to all wood-engravings that had previously appeared, both in design and execution.” The series was brought out simultaneously in German and Latin editions, and was published by the author himself. It met with a great success, and was soon duplicated in new pirated editions.
It has of late years become a contested point as to whether Dürer really engraved his woodcuts with his own hands, or whether he only drew the designs on the wood, and left their mechanical execution to practical workmen. It is only within the present century that a theory to the latter effect has been advanced and supported by powerful arguments and first-class authorities. The German scholars Bartsch and Von Eye, and the historians of engraving Jackson and Chatto, concur in denying Dürer’s use of the graver. But there is a strong and well-supported belief that many of the engravings attributed to him were actually done by his hand, and that during the earlier part of his career he was largely engaged in this way. The exquisite wood-carvings which are undoubtedly his work show that he was not devoid of the manual dexterity needful for these plates; and it is also certain that the mediæval artists did not hold themselves above mechanical labors, since even Raphael and Titian were among the peintres-graveurs. Dürer’s efforts greatly elevated the art of wood-engraving in Germany, and this improvement was directly conducive to its growth in popularity. A large number of skilful engravers were developed by the new demand; and in his later years Dürer doubtless found enough expert assistants, and was enabled to devote his time to more noble achievements. He used the art to multiply and disseminate his rich ideas, which thus found a more ready expression than that of painting. Heller attributes one hundred and seventy-four wood-engravings to him; and many more, of varying claims to authenticity, are enumerated by other writers. Twenty-six were made before 1506. The finest and the only perfect collection of Dürer’s woodcuts is owned by Herr Cornill d’Orville of Frankfort-on-the-Main.