Fig. 280.—Statue said to be of Clovis I., formerly in the porch of St. Germain-des-Prés, Paris. (Twelfth Century.)
But let us turn our eyes towards Italy. Venice had scarcely raised her lofty dome ere Pisa aspired to have one also. Many a Tuscan ship, launched upon the sea for conquests of a new kind, brought from Greece an infinity of monuments, statues, bas-reliefs, capitals, friezes, and various fragments; and the Tuscan people, the best organised race in Europe for fully appreciating all the beauty of form, were called upon to draw their inspiration from the relics of ancient works of Art. The enthusiasm became general. In 1016, Buschetto, regarded as the first architect of his time, undertook the building of the Cathedral of Pisa, where ancient fragments are still conspicuous amid the works of more modern creation: a kind of holographic testament the benefit of which the followers of the art of Phidias have thus handed down to posterity. The pupils of Buschetto, accepting the impulse of his masterly hand and reproducing his ideas, soon spread all over the peninsula, and the cathedrals of Amalfi, Pistoia, Siena, and Lucca arose, the Byzantine character of which differed from the Lombard style presented by the Cathedral of Milan. One might almost have fancied that the bosom of the earth brought forth statues which, as if by enchantment, peopled every pedestal; and that from heaven descended the ray which animated them with their sublime expression. The art of casting in bronze, hitherto almost unknown in Italy, became naturalised there as much as the art of carving in stone.
While in the West the Arts were making such a spring, in the East they had relapsed into the lowest stage of debasement, at the period when Byzantium was simultaneously threatened by the Bulgarians and the Crusaders; although for a time they had appeared to revive, owing to the zeal of Basil the Macedonian, Constantine VIII., and some of their successors. Eastern sculpture disappeared when the Latins sacked the ancient capital of the first Christian emperor (1204).
At the approach of the thirteenth century, which was destined to be the great age of Christian architecture and sculpture, artists no longer looked, as they had hitherto done, towards Byzantium, they depended on themselves; and although some hesitation might still be felt, they found all round them models they could imitate, traditions they could follow, and masters to whom they could listen. Christian art had now an independent existence, and the various schools asserted their styles in a way which became every day more clear, more powerful, and more original.
“The style of the head of Christ at Amiens” ([Fig. 281]), says M. Viollet-le-Duc, writing on this subject, “fully deserves the attention of
Fig. 281.—“The Beau Dieu d’Amiens;” a Statue of Christ in the Front of the Cathedral of Amiens. (Thirteenth Century.)
sculptors. This carving is treated in the same way as the Greek heads called Eginetic. There is the same simplicity of model, the same purity of outline, the same style of execution, at once broad and delicate. It well represents the features of Christ as a man: a blending of sweetness with firmness, a gravity devoid of sadness.”
This is not the place to assert any minute comparisons between different manners and styles; even the bare enumeration of the many monuments to which this fervent age gave birth might prove wearisome. We call it a “fervent age,” and fully are we justified, for, at a time when a whole world of artist-sculptors of ornaments and figures were devoting themselves to the most delicate and marvellous works of sculpture (Fig. 282), none seemed desirous of displaying his own personal distinction. We find, for instance, numerous sculptors setting aside all claim to individual merit, and carrying this self-denial so far that, instead of their own names, they inscribed that of the Virgin Mary on the carvings of the churches which they had enriched with their finest works: “Hoc panthema pia cælaverat ipsa Maria.”
In Germany, Christian art became specially enthroned in Saxony; and Dresden, which has been justly styled the German Athens, can date back her architecto-sculptural adornments to the tenth century. On the banks of the Rhine, at Cologne, Coblentz, and Mayence, we find again the school of Saint-Gall, which, having been planted in 971, under the auspices of Notker, Bishop of Laodicea, left its stamp, during a period of two centuries, in a series of remarkable works.