Although all the Byzantine pictures of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries which have come under my notice represent Christ breaking the bread or holding the cup, that is, the institution of the Sacrament, the Greek formula published by Didron distinguishes between this scene and that of the repast in which Judas is denounced as a traitor. The earliest representation to which I can refer in Western Art, as taking the historical form, is the Cenacolo of Giotto, the oldest and the most important that has been preserved to us; it was painted by him in the refectory of the convent of Santa Croce at Florence. This refectory, when I visited it in 1847, was a carpet manufactory, and it was difficult to get a good view of the fresco by reason of the intervention of the carpet-looms. It has been often restored, and is now in a bad state; still, enough remains to understand the original intention of the artist, and that arrangement which has since been the groundwork of similar compositions.
A long table extends across the picture from side to side: in the middle, and fronting the spectator, sits the Redeemer; to the right, St. John, his head reclining on the lap of Christ; next to him, Peter; after Peter, St. James Major; thus placing together the three favourite disciples. Next to St. James, St. Matthew, St. Bartholomew, and a young beardless apostle, probably St. Philip.
On the left hand of our Saviour is St. Andrew; and next to him, St. James Minor (the two St. Jameses bearing the traditional resemblance to Christ); then St. Simon and St. Jude; and lastly, a young apostle, probably St. Thomas. (The reader will have the goodness to recollect that I give this explanation of the names and position of the eleven apostles as my own, and with due deference to the opinion of those who on a further study of the fresco may differ from me.) Opposite to the Saviour, and on the near side of the table, sits Judas, apart from the rest, and in the act of dipping his hand into the dish. It is evident that the moment chosen by the artist is, ‘He that dippeth with me in the dish, the same shall betray me.’
Although the excuse may be found in the literal adoption of the words of the Gospel,[239] it appears to me a fault to make St. John leaning, as one half asleep, on the lap of our Saviour, after such words have been uttered as must have roused, or at least ought to have roused, the young and beloved apostle from his supine attitude; therefore, we may suppose that Christ is about to speak the words, but has not yet spoken them. The position of Judas is caused by the necessity of placing him sufficiently near to Christ to dip his hand in the same dish; while to have placed him on the same side of the table, so as to give him the precedence over the more favoured disciples, would have appeared to the early artists nothing less than profane. Giotto has paid great attention to the heads, which are individually characterised, but there is little dramatic expression; the attention is not yet directed to Judas, who is seen in profile, looking up, not ugly in feature, but with a mean vicious countenance, and bent shoulders.
The arrangement of the table and figures, so peculiarly fitted for a refectory, has been generally adopted since the time of Giotto in pictures painted for this especial purpose. The subject is placed on the upper wall of the chamber; the table extending from side to side: the tables of the monks are placed, as in the dining-rooms of our colleges, length-ways; thus all can behold the divine assembly, and Christ appears to preside over and sanctify the meal.
In another Cenacolo by Giotto,[240] which forms one of the scenes in the history of Christ, he has given us a totally different version of the subject; and, not being intended for a refectory, but as an action or event, it is more dramatic. It is evident that our Saviour has just uttered the words, ‘He that dippeth with me in the dish, the same shall betray me.’ Judas, who has mean, ugly, irregular features, looks up alarmed, and seems in the act of rising to escape. One apostle (Philip, I think) points at him, and the attention of all is more or less directed to him. This would be a fault if the subject were intended for a refectory, or to represent the celebration of the Eucharist. But here, where the subject is historical, it is a propriety.
The composition of Duccio of Siena, in the Duomo at Siena, must have been nearly contemporary with, if it did not precede, those of Giotto (A.D. 1308); it is quite different, quite original in motif and arrangement. Seven apostles sit on the same side with Christ, and five opposite to him, turning their backs on the spectator; the faces are seen in profile. The attitude of St. John, leaning against our Saviour with downcast eyes, is much more graceful than in the composition of Giotto. St. Peter is on the right of Christ; next to him St. James Minor: two young apostles sit at the extreme ends of the table, whom I suppose to be St. Philip and St. Thomas: the other apostles I am unable to discriminate, with the exception of Judas, who, with regular features, has a characteristic scowl on his brow. Christ holds out a piece of bread in his hand: two of the apostles likewise hold bread, and two others hold a cup; the rest look attentive or pensive, but the general character of the heads is deficient in elevation. The moment chosen may be the distribution of the bread and wine; but, to me, it rather expresses the commencement of the meal, and our Saviour’s address: ‘With desire have I desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer’ (Luke xxii. 15). The next compartment of the same series, which represents the apostles seated in a group before Christ, and listening with upturned faces and the most profound attention to his last words, has much more of character, solemnity, and beauty, than the Last Supper. Judas is here omitted; ‘for he, having received the sop, went immediately out.’
Angelico da Fiesole, in his life of Christ, has been careful to distinguish between the detection of Judas and the institution of the Eucharist.[241] He has given us both scenes. In the first compartment, John is leaning down with his face to the Saviour; the back of his head only is seen, and he appears too unmindful of what is going forward. The other apostles are well discriminated, the usual type strictly followed in Peter, Andrew, James Major and James Minor. To the right of Christ are Peter, Andrew, Bartholomew; to the left, James Minor. Four turn their backs, and two young apostles stand on each side,—I presume Thomas and Philip; they seem to be waiting on the rest: Judas dips his hand in the dish. I suppose the moment to be the same as in the composition of Duccio.
But in the next compartment the motif is different. All have risen. from table; it is no longer a repast, it is a sacred mystery; Christ is in the act of administering the bread to St. John; all kneel; and Judas is seen kneeling behind Christ, near an open door, and apart from the rest, as if he were watching for the opportunity to escape. To dispose of Judas in this holy ceremony is always a difficulty. To represent him as receiving with the rest the sacred rite is an offence to the pious. The expression used by St. John (xii. 30), ‘After he had received the sop he went out,’ implies that Judas was not present at the Lord’s Supper, which succeeded the celebration of the paschal supper. St. Luke and St. Mark, neither of whom were present, leave us to suppose that Judas partook, with the other disciples, of the mystic bread and wine; yet we can hardly believe that, after having been pointed out as the betrayer, the conscience-stricken Judas should remain to receive the Eucharist. Sometimes he is omitted altogether; sometimes he is stealing out at the door. In the composition of Luca Signorelli, which I saw at Cortona, all the twelve apostles are kneeling; Christ is distributing the wafer; and Judas, turning away with a malignant look, puts his wafer into his satchel. In the composition of Palmezzano, in the Duomo at Forlì, our Saviour stands, holding a plate, and is in the act of presenting the wafer to Peter, who kneels: St. John stands by the side of Christ, holding the cup: Judas is in the background; he kneels by the door, and seems to be watching for the opportunity to steal away.
The fine composition, fine also in sentiment and character, of Ghirlandajo, was painted for the small refectory in the San Marco at Florence. The arrangement is ingenious: the table is of what we call the horse-shoe form, which allows all the figures to face the spectator; and at the same time takes up less room than where the table runs across the picture from side to side. Judas sits in front, alone; Christ has just designated him. ‘He it is to whom I shall give the sop when I have dipped it.’ (John xiii. 26.) Judas holds the sop in his hand, with an alarmed conscious look. Behind sits an ill-omened cat, probably intended for the fiend. John, to the left of Christ, appears to have swooned away. The other apostles express, in various ways, amazement and horror.