CARVING IN WOOD AND IVORY

If the Germans were somewhat less original than the French, English, and Italians in their stone carving, they made up for this deficiency by a very remarkable skill in wood carving. Being later, in period, this art was usually characterized by more naturalism than that of sculpture in stone.

In Germany the art of sculpture in wood is said to have been in full favour as early as the thirteenth century. There are two excellent wooden monuments, one at Laach erected to Count Palatine Henry III., who died in 1095, and another to Count Henry III. of Sayne, in 1246. The carving shows signs of the transition to Gothic forms. Large wooden crucifixes were carved in Germany in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. Byzantine feeling is usual in these figures, which are frequently larger than life.

MediÆval wood carving developed chiefly along the line of altar pieces and of grotesque adornments of choir stalls. Among the most interesting of these are the "miserere" seats, of which we shall speak at more length.

The general methods of wood carving resemble somewhat those of stone carving; that is to say, flat relief, round relief, and entirely disengaged figures occur in both, while in both the drill is used as a starting point in many forms of design. As with the other arts, this of carving in wood emanated from the monastery.

Figure 51

CARVED BOX-WOOD PYX, 14TH CENTURY

The monk Tutilo, of St. Gall, was very gifted. The old chronicle tells us that "he was eloquent, with a fine voice, skilful in carving, and a painter. A musician, like his companions, but in all kinds of wind and stringed instruments... he excelled everybody. In building and in his other arts he was eminent." Tutilo was a monk of the ninth century.

A celebrated wood carving of the thirteenth century, on a large scale, is the door of the Church of St. Sabina in Rome. It is divided into many small panels, finely carved. These little reliefs are crowded with figures, very spirited in action.

Painted and carved shields and hatchments were popular. The Italian artists made these with great refinement. Sometimes stucco was employed instead of genuine carving, and occasionally the work was embossed on leather. They were painted in heraldic colours, and gold, and nothing could be more decorative. Even Giotto produced certain works of this description, as well as a carved crucifix.

Altar pieces were first carved and painted, the backgrounds being gilded. By degrees stucco for the figures came in to replace the wood: after that, they were gradually modelled in lower relief, until finally they became painted pictures with slightly raised portions, and the average Florentine altar piece resulted. With the advance in painting, and the ability to portray the round, the necessity for carved details diminished.

Orders from a great distance were sometimes sent to the Florentine Masters of Wood,—the choir stalls in Cambridge, in King's College Chapel, were executed by them, in spite of the fact that Torregiano alluded to them as "beasts of English."

An early French wood carver was Girard d'Orleans, who, in 1379, carved for Charles V. "ung tableau de boys de quatre pieces." Ruskin considers the choir stalls in Amiens the best worth seeing in France; he speaks of the "carpenter's work" with admiration, for no nails are used, nor is the strength of glue relied upon; every bit is true "joinery," mortised, and held by the skill and conscientiousness of its construction. Of later work in wood it is a magnificent example. The master joiner, Arnold Boulin, undertook the construction of the stalls in 1508. He engaged Anton Avernier, an image maker, to carve the statuettes and figures which occur in the course of the work. Another joiner, Alexander Hust, is reported as working as well, and in 1511, both he and Boulin travelled to Rouen, to study the stalls in the cathedral there. Two Franciscan monks, "expert and renowned in working in wood," came from Abbeville to give judgment and approval, their expenses being paid for this purpose.

Jean Troupin, a "simple workman at the wages of three sous a day," was added to the staff of workers in 1516, and in one of the stalls he has carved his own portrait, with the inscription, "Jan Troupin, God take care of thee." In 1522 the entire work was completed, and was satisfactorily terminated on St. John's day, representing the entire labour of six or eight men for about fourteen years.

In the fifteenth century Germany led all countries in the art of wood carving. Painting was nearly always allied to this art in ecclesiastical use. The sculptured forms were gilded and painted, and, in some cases, might almost be taken for figures in faience, so high was the polish. Small altars, with carved reredos and frontals, were very popular, both for church and closet. The style employed was pictorial, figures and scenes being treated with great naturalism. One of the famous makers of such altar pieces was Lucas MÖser, in the earlier part of the fifteenth century. A little later came Hans SchÜlein, and then followed Freidrich Herlin, who carved the fine altar in Rothenburg. Jorg Syrlin of Ulm and his son of the same name cover the latter half of the century.

Bavaria was the chief province in which sculptors in wood flourished. The figures are rather stumpy sometimes, and the draperies rather heavy and lacking in delicate grace, but the works are far more numerous than those of other districts, and vary enormously in merit.

Then followed the great carvers of the early Renaissance—Adam Kraft, and Veit Stoss, contemporaries of Peter Vischer and Albrecht DÜrer, whom we must consider for a little, although they hardly can be called mediÆval workmen.

Veit Stoss was born in the early fifteenth century, in NÜremberg. He went to Cracow when he was about thirty years of age, and spent some years working hard. He returned to his native city, however, in 1496, and worked there for the rest of his life. A delicate specimen of his craft is the Rosenkranztafel, a wood carving in the Germanic Museum, which exhibits medallions in relief, representing the Communion of Saints, with a wreath of roses encircling it. Around the border of this oblong composition there are small square reliefs, and a Last Judgment which is full of grim humour occupies the lower part of the space. Among the amusing incidents represented, is that of a redeemed soul, quite naked, climbing up a vine to reach heaven, in which God the Father is in the act of "receiving" Adam and Eve, shaking hands most sociably! The friends of this aspiring climber are "boosting" him from below; the most deliciously realistic proof that Stoss had no use for the theory of a winged hereafter!

Veit Stoss was a very versatile craftsman. Besides his wonderful wood carvings, for which he is chiefly noted, he was a bridge-builder, a stone-mason, a bronze caster, painter of altars, and engraver on copper! Like all such variously talented persons, he suffered somewhat from restlessness and preferred work to peace,—but his compensation lay in the varied joys of creative works. His naturalism was marked in all that he did: a naÏve old chronicler remarks that he made some life-sized coloured figures of Adam and Eve, "so fashioned that one was afraid that they were alive!" Veit Stoss was an interesting individual. He was not especially moral in all his ways, narrowly escaping being executed for forgery; but his brilliancy as a technician was unsurpassed. He lived until 1533, when he died in NÜremberg as a very old man. One of his most delightful achievements is the great medallion with an open background, which hangs in the centre of the Church of St. Lorenz. It shows two large and graceful figures,—Mary and the Angel Gabriel, the subject being the Annunciation. A wreath of angels and flowers surrounds the whole, with small medallions representing the seven joys of the Virgin. It is a masterly work, and was presented by Anton Tucher in 1518. Veit Stoss was the leading figure among wood carvers of the Renaissance, although Albrecht DÜrer combined this with his many accomplishments, as well.

Some of the carvings in wood in the chapel of Henry VII. at Westminster, are adapted from drawings by Albrecht DÜrer, and are probably the work of Germans. Two of these, Derrick van Grove and Giles van Castel, were working at St. George's, Windsor, about the same time.

The very finest example of NÜremberg carving, however, is the famous wooden Madonna, which has been ascribed to Peter Vischer the Younger, both by Herr von Bezold and by Cecil Headlam. It seems very reasonable after a study of the other works of this remarkable son of Peter Vischer, for there is no other carver of the period, in all NÜremberg, who could have executed such a flawlessly lovely figure.

One of the noted wood carvers in Spain in the Renaissance, was Alonso Cano. He was a native of Granada and was born in 1601. His father was a carver of "retablos," and brought the boy up to follow his profession. Cano was also a painter of considerable merit, but as a sculptor in wood he was particularly successful. His first conspicuous work was a new high altar for the church of Lebrija, which came to him on account of the death of his father, who was commencing the work in 1630, when his life was suddenly cut off. Alonso made this altar so beautifully, that he was paid two hundred and fifty ducats more than he asked! Columns and cornices are arranged so as to frame four excellent statues. These carvings have been esteemed so highly that artists came to study them all the way from Flanders. The altar is coloured, like most of the Spanish retablos. Cano was a pugnacious character, always getting into scrapes, using his stiletto, and being obliged to shift his residence on short notice. It is remarkable that his erratic life did not interfere with his work, which seems to have gone calmly on in spite of domestic and civic difficulties. Among his works at various places, where his destiny took him, was a tabernacle for the Cathedral of Malaga. He had worked for some time at the designs for this tabernacle, when it was whispered to him that the Bishop of Malaga intended to get a bargain, and meant to beat him down in his charges. So, packing up his plans and drawings, and getting on his mule. Cano observed, "These drawings are either to be given away for nothing, or else they are to bring two thousand ducats." The news of his departure caused alarm among those in authority, and he was urged to bring back the designs, and receive his own price.

Cano carved a life-size crucifix for Queen Mariana, which she presented to the Convent of Monserrati at Madrid. Alonso Cano entered the Church and became canon of the Cathedral of Granada. But all his talents had no effect upon his final prosperity: he died in extreme want in 1667, the Cathedral records showing that he was the recipient of charity, five hundred reals being voted to "the canon Cano, being sick and very poor, and without means to pay the doctor." Another record mentions the purchase of "poultry and sweet-meats" also for him.

Cano made one piece of sculpture in marble, a guardian angel for the Convent at Granada, but this no longer exists. Some of his architectural drawings are preserved in the Louvre. Ford says that his St. Francesco in Toledo is "a masterpiece of cadaverous ecstatic sentiment."

The grotesques which played so large a part in church art are bewailed by St. Bernard: "What is the use," he asks, "of those absurd monstrosities displayed in the cloisters before the reading monks?... Why are unclean monkeys and savage lions, and monstrous centaurs and semi-men, and spotted tigers, and fighting soldiers, and pipe-playing hunters, represented?" Then St. Bernard inadvertently admits the charm of all these grotesques, by adding: "The variety of form is everywhere so great, that marbles are more pleasant reading than manuscripts, and the whole day is spent in looking at them instead of in meditating on the law of God." St. Bernard concludes with the universal argument: "Oh, God, if one is not ashamed of these puerilities, why does not one at least spare the expense?" A hundred years later, the clergy were censured by the Prior de Coinsi for allowing "wild cats and lions" to stand equal with the saints.

Figure 52

MISERERE STALL; AN ARTISAN AT WORK

The real test of a fine grotesque—a genuine Gothic monster—is, that he shall, in spite of his monstrosity, retain a certain anatomical consistency: it must be conceivable that the animal organism could have developed along these lines. In the thirteenth century, this is always possible; but in much later times, and in the Renaissance, the grotesques simply became comic and degraded, and lacking in humour: in a later chapter this idea will be developed further.

The art of the choir stalls and miserere seats was a natural ebullition of the humourous instinct, which had so little opportunity for exploiting itself in monastic seclusion. The joke was hidden away, under the seat, out of sight of visitors, or laymen: inconspicuous, but furtively entertaining. There was no self-consciousness in its elaboration, it was often executed for pure love of fun and whittling; and for that very reason embodies all the most attractive qualities of its art. There was no covert intention to produce a genre history of contemporary life and manners, as has sometimes been claimed. These things were accidentally introduced in the work, but the carvers had no idea of ministering to this or any other educational theory. Like all light-hearted expression of personality, the miserere stalls have proved of inestimable worth to the world of art, as a record of human skill and genial mirth.

Figure 53

MISERERE STALL, ELY: NOAH AND THE DOVE

A good many of the vices of the times were portrayed on the miserere seats. The "backbiter" is frequently seen, in most unlovely form, and two persons gossiping with an "unseen witness" in the shape of an avenging friend, looking on and waiting for his opportunity to strike! Gluttons and misers are always accompanied by familiar devils, who prod and goad them into such sin as shall make them their prey at the last. Among favourite subjects on miserere seats is the "alewife." No wonder ale drinking proved so large a factor in the jokes of the fraternity, for the rate at which it was consumed, in this age when it took the place of both tea and coffee, was enormous. The inmates of St. Cross Hospital, Winchester, who were alluded to as "impotents," received daily one gallon of beer each, with two extra quarts on holidays! If this were the allowance of pensioners, what must have been the proportion among the well-to-do? In 1558 there is a record of a dishonest beer seller who gave only a pint for a penny drink, instead of the customary quart! The subject of the alewife who had cheated her customers, being dragged to hell by demons, is often treated by the carvers with much relish, in the sacred precincts of the church choir!

Figure 54

MISERERE STALL; THE FATE OF THE ALE-WIFE

At Ludlow there is a relief which shows the unlucky lady carried on the back of a demon, hanging with her head upside down, while a smiling "recording imp" is making notes in a scroll concerning her! In one of the Chester Mysteries, the Ale Wife is made to confess her own shortcomings:

"Some time I was a taverner,
A gentle gossip and a tapster,
Of wine and ale a trusty brewer,
Which woe hath me wrought.

Of cans I kept no true measure,
My cups I sold at my pleasure,
Deceiving many a creature,
Though my ale were nought!"

There is a curious miserere in Holderness representing a nun between two hares: she is looking out with a smile, and winking!

At Ripon the stalls show Jonah being thrown to the whale, and the same Jonah being subsequently relinquished by the sea monster. The whale is represented by a large bland smiling head, with gaping jaws, occurring in the midst of the water, and Jonah takes the usual "header" familiar in mediÆval art, wherever this episode is rendered.

A popular treatment of the stall was the foliate mask; stems issuing from the mouth of the mask and developing into leaves and vines. This is an entirely foolish and unlovely design: in most cases it is quite lacking in real humour, and makes one think more of the senseless Roman grotesques and those of the Renaissance. The mediÆval quaintness is missing.

At Beverly a woman is represented beating a man, while a dog is helping himself out of the soup cauldron. The misereres at Beverly date from about 1520.

Animals as musicians, too, were often introduced,—pigs playing on viols, or pipes, an ass performing on the harp, and similar eccentricities may be found in numerous places, while Reynard the Fox in all his forms abounds.

The choir stalls at Lincoln exhibit beautiful carving and design: they date from the fourteenth century, and were given by the treasurer, John de Welburne. There are many delightful miserere seats, many of the selections in this case being from the legend of Reynard the Fox.

Abbot Islip of Westminster was a great personality, influencing his times and the place where his genius expressed itself. He was very constant and thorough in repairing and restoring at the Abbey, and under his direction much fine painting and illuminating were accomplished. The special periods of artistic activity in most of the cathedrals may be traced to the personal influence of some cultured ecclesiastic.

A very beautiful specimen of English carving is the curious oak chest at York Cathedral, on which St. George fighting the dragon is well rendered. However, the termination of the story differs from that usually associated with this legend, for the lady leads off the subdued dragon in a leash, and the very abject crawl of the creature is depicted with much humour.

MediÆval ivory carving practically commenced with the fourth century; in speaking of the tools employed, it is safe to say that they corresponded to those used by sculptors in wood. It is generally believed by authorities that there was some method by which ivory could be taken from the whole rounded surface of the tusk, and then, by soaking, or other treatment, rendered sufficiently malleable to be bent out into a large flat sheet: for some of the large mediÆval ivories are much wider than the diameter of any known possible tusk. There are recipes in the early treatises which tell how to soften the ivory that it may be more easily sculptured: in the Mappae Clavicula, in the twelfth century, directions are given for preparing a bath in which to steep ivory, in order to make it soft. In the Sloane MS. occurs another recipe for the same purpose.

Ahab's "ivory house which he made" must have been either covered with a very thin veneer, or else the ivory was used as inlay, which was often the case, in connection with ebony. Ezekiel alludes to this combination. Ivory and gold were used by the Greeks in their famous Chryselephantine statues, in which cases thin plates of ivory formed the face, hands, and exposed parts, the rest being overlaid with gold, This art originated with the brothers Dipoenus and Scillis, about 570 B. C., in Crete.

"In sculpturing ivory," says Theophilus, "first form a tablet of the magnitude you may wish, and superposing chalk, portray with a lead the figures according to your pleasure, and with a pointed instrument mark the lines that they may appear: then carve the grounds as deeply as you wish with different instruments, and sculp the figures or other things you please, according to your invention and skill." He tells how to make a knife handle with open work carvings, through which a gold ground is visible: and extremely handsome would such a knife be when completed, according to Theophilus' directions. He also tells how to redden ivory. "There is likewise an herb called 'rubrica,' the root of which is long, slender, and of a red colour; this being dug up is dried in the sun and is pounded in a mortar with the pestle, and so being scraped into a pot, and a lye poured over it, is then cooked. In this, when it has well boiled, the bone of the elephant or fish or stag, being placed, is made red." MediÆval chessmen were made in ivory: very likely the need for a red stain was felt chiefly for such pieces.

The celebrated Consular Diptychs date from the fourth century onwards. It was the custom for Consuls to present to senators and other officials these little folding ivory tablets, and the adornment of Diptychs was one of the chief functions of the ivory worker. Some of them were quite ambitious in size; in the British Museum is a Diptych measuring over sixteen inches by five: the tusk from which this was made must have been almost unique in size. It is a Byzantine work, and has the figure of an angel carved upon it.

Gregory the Great sent a gift of ivory to Theodolinda, Queen of the Lombards, in 600. This is decorated with three figures, and is a most interesting diptych.

The earliest diptych, however, is of the year 406, known as the Diptych of Probus, on which may be seen a bas-relief portrait of Emperor Honorius. On the Diptych of Philoxenus is a Greek verse signifying, "I, Philoxenus, being Consul, offer this present to the wise Senate." An interesting diptych, sixteen inches by six, is inscribed, "Flavius Strategius Apius, illustrious man, count of the most fervent servants, and consul in ordinary." This consul was invested in 539; the work was made in Rome, but it is the property of the Cathedral of Orviedo in Spain, where it is regarded as a priceless treasure.

Claudian, in the fourth century, alludes to diptychs, speaking of "huge tusks cut with steel into tablets and gleaming with gold, engraved with the illustrious name of the Consul, circulated among great and small, and the great wonder of the Indies, the elephant, wanders about in tuskless shame!" In Magaster, a city which according to Marco Polo, was governed by "four old men," they sold "vast quantities of elephants' teeth."

Rabanus, a follower of Alcuin, born in 776, was the author of an interesting encyclopÆdia, rejoicing in the comprehensive title, "On the Universe." This work is in twenty-two books, which are supposed to cover all possible subjects upon which a reader might be curious.... The seventeenth book is on "the dust and soil of the earth," under which uninviting head he includes all kinds of stones, common and precious; salt, flint, sand, lime, jet, asbestos, and the Persian moonstone, of whose brightness he claims that it "waxes and wanes with the moon." Later he devotes some space to pearls, crystals, and glass. Metals follow, and marbles and ivory, though why the latter should be classed among minerals we shall never understand.

Figure 55

IVORY TABERNACLE, RAVENNA

The Roman diptychs were often used as after-dinner gifts to distinguished guests. They were presented on various occasions. In the Epistles of Symmachus, the writer says: "To my Lord and Prince I sent a diptych edged with gold. I presented other friends also with these ivory note books."

While elephant's tusks provided ivory for the southern races, the more northern peoples used the walrus and narwhale tusks. In Germany this was often the case. The fabulous unicorn's horn, which is so often alluded to in early literature, was undoubtedly from the narwhale, although its possessor always supposed that he had secured the more remarkable horn which was said to decorate the unicorn.

Triptychs followed diptychs in natural sequence. These, in the Middle Ages, were usually of a devotional character, although sometimes secular subjects occur. Letters were sometimes written on ivory tablets, which were supposed to be again used in forwarding a reply. St. Augustine apologizes for writing on parchment, explaining, "My ivory tablets I sent with letters to your uncle; if you have any of my tablets, please send them in case of similar emergencies." Tablets fitted with wax linings were used also in schools, as children now use slates.

Ivory diptychs were fashionable gifts and keepsakes in the later Roman imperial days. They took the place which had been occupied in earlier days by illuminated books, such as were produced by Lala of Cyzicus, of whom mention will be made in connection with book illuminators.

Figure 56

THE NATIVITY; IVORY CARVING

After the triptychs came sets of five leaves, hinged together; sometimes these were arranged in groups of four around a central plaque. Often they were intended to be used as book covers. Occasionally the five leaves were made up of classical ivories which had been altered in such a way that they now had Christian significance. The beautiful diptych in the Bargello, representing Adam in the Earthly Paradise, may easily have been originally intended for Orpheus, especially since Eve is absent! The treatment is rather classical, and was probably adapted to its later name. Some diptychs which were used afterwards for ecclesiastical purposes, show signs of having had the Consular inscription erased, and the wax removed, while Christian sentiments were written or incised within the book itself. Parts of the service were also occasionally transcribed on diptychs. In Milan the Rites contain these passages: "The lesson ended, a scholar, vested in a surplice, takes the ivory tablets from the altar or ambo, and ascends the pulpit;" and in another place a similar allusion occurs: "When the Deacon chants the Alleluia, the key bearer for the week hands the ivory tablets to him at the exit of the choir."

Anastatius, in his Life of Pope Agatho, tells of a form of posthumous excommunication which was sometimes practised: "They took away from the diptychs... wherever it could be done, the names and figures of these patriarchs, Cyrus, Sergius, Paul, Pyrrhus, and Peter, through whom error had been brought among the orthodox."

Among ivory carvings in Carlovingian times may be cited a casket with ornamental colonettes sent by Eginhard to his son. In 823, Louis le Debonaire owned a statuette, a diptych, and a coffer, while in 845 the Archbishop of Rheims placed an order for ivory book covers, for the works of St. Jerome, a Lectionary, and other works.

The largest and best known ivory carving of the middle ages is the throne of Maximian, Archbishop of Ravenna. This entire chair, with an arched back and arms, is composed of ivory in intricately carved plaques. It is considerably over three feet in height, and is a superb example of the best art of the sixth century. Photographs and reproductions of it may be seen in most works dealing with this subject. Scenes from Scripture are set all over it, divided by charming meanders of deeply cut vine motives. Some authorities consider the figures inferior to the other decorations: of course in any delineation of the human form, the archaic element is more keenly felt than when it appears in foliate forms or conventional patterns. Diptychs being often taken in considerable numbers and set into large works of ivory, has led some authorities to suppose that the Ravenna throne was made of such a collection; but this is contradicted by Passeri in 1759, who alludes to the panels in the following terms: "They might readily be taken by the ignorant for diptychs.... This they are not, for they cannot be taken from the consular diptychs which had their own ornamentation, referring to the consultate and the insignia, differing from the sculpture destined for other purposes. Hence they are obviously mistaken who count certain tablets as diptychs which have no ascription to any consul, but represent the Muses, Bacchantes, or Gods. These seem to me to have been book covers." Probably the selected form of an upright tablet for the majority of ivory carvings is based on economic principles: the best use of the most surface from any square block of material is to cut it in thin slices. In their architecture the southern mediÆval builders so treated stone, building a substructure of brick and laying a slab or veneer of the more costly material on its surface: with ivory this same principle was followed, and the shape of the tusk, being long and narrow, naturally determined the form of the resulting tablets.

The Throne of Ivan III. in Moscow and that of St. Peter in Rome are also magnificent monuments of this art. Ivory caskets were the chief manifestation of taste in that medium, during the period of transition from the eighth century until the revival of Byzantine skill in the tenth century. This form of sculpture was at its best at a time when stone sculpture was on the decline.

There is a fascinating book cover in Ravenna which is a good example of sixth century work of various kinds. In the centre, Christ is seen, enthroned under a kind of palmetto canopy; above him, on a long panel, are two flying angels displaying a cross set in a wreath; at either end stand little squat figures, with balls and crosses in their hands. Scenes from the miracles of Our Lord occupy the two side panels, which are subdivided so that there are four scenes in all; they are so quaint as to be really grotesque, but have a certain blunt charm which is enhanced by the creamy lumpiness of the material in which they are rendered. The healing of the blind, raising of the dead, and the command to the man by the pool to take up his bed and walk, are accurately represented; the bed in this instance is a form of couch with a wooden frame and mattress, the carrying of which would necessitate an unusual amount of strength on the part of even a strong, well man. One of the most naÏve of these panels of the miracles is the curing of "one possessed:" the boy is tied with cords by the wrists and ankles, while, at the touch of the Master, a little demon is seen issuing from the top of the head of the sufferer, waving its arms proudly to celebrate its freedom! Underneath is a small scene of the three Children in the Fiery Furnace; they look as if they were presenting a vaudeville turn, being spirited in action, and very dramatic. Below all, is a masterly panel of Jonah and the whale,—an old favourite, frequently appearing in mediÆval art. The whale, positively smiling and sportive, eagerly awaits his prey at the right. Jonah is making a graceful dive from the ship, apparently with an effort to land in the very jaws of the whale. At the opposite side, the whale, having coughed up his victim, looks disappointed, while Jonah, in an attitude of lassitude suggestive of sea-sickness, reclines on a bank; an angel, with one finger lifted as if in reproach, is hurrying towards him.

An ingenuous ivory carving of the ninth century in Carlovingian style is a book cover on which is depicted the finding of St. Gall, by tame bears in the wilderness. These bears, walking decorously on their hind legs, are figured as carrying bread to the hungry saint: one holds a long French loaf of a familiar pattern, and the other a breakfast roll!

Bernward of Hildesheim had a branch for ivory carving in his celebrated academy, to which allusion has been made.

Ivory drinking horns were among the most beautiful and ornate examples of secular ivories. They were called Oliphants, because the tusks of elephants were chiefly used in their manufacture. In 1515 the Earl of Ormonde leaves in his will "a little white horn of ivory garnished at both ends with gold," and in St. Paul's in the thirteenth century, there is mention of "a great horn of ivory engraved with beasts and birds." The Horn of Ulphas at York is an example of the great drinking horns from which the Saxons and Danes, in early days, drank in token of transfer of lands; as we are told by an old chronicler, "When he gave the horn that was to convey his estate, he filled it with wine, and went on his knees before the altar... so that he drank it off in testimony that thereby he gave them his lands." This horn was given by Ulphas to the Cathedral with certain lands, a little before the Conquest, and placed by him on the altar.

Interesting ivories are often the pastoral staves carried by bishops. That of Otho Bishop of Hildesheim in 1260 is inscribed in the various parts: "Persuade

Figure 57

PASTORAL STAFF; IVORY, GERMAN, 12TH CENTURY

by the lower part; rule by the middle; and correct by the point." These were apparently the symbolic functions of the crozier. The French Gothic ivory croziers are perhaps more beautiful than others, the little figures standing in the carved volutes being especially delicate and graceful.

Before a mediÆval bishop could perform mass he was enveloped in a wrapper, and his hair was combed "respectfully and lightly" (no tugging!) by the deacon. This being a part of the regular ceremonial, special carved combs of ivory, known as Liturgical Combs, were used. Many of them remain in collections, and they are often ornamented in the most delightful way, with little processions and Scriptural scenes in bas-relief. In the Regalia of England, there was mentioned among things destroyed in 1649, "One old comb of horn, worth nothing." According to Davenport, this may have been the comb used in smoothing the king's hair on the occasion of a Coronation.

The rich pulpit at Aix la Chapelle is covered with plates of gold set with stones and ivory carvings; these are very fine. It was given to the cathedral by the Emperor Henry II. The inscription may be thus translated: "Artfully brightened in gold and precious stones, this pulpit is here dedicated by King Henry with reverence, desirous of celestial glory: richly it is decorated with his own treasures, for you, most Holy Virgin, in order that you may obtain the highest gain as a future reward for him." The sentiment is not entirely disinterested; but are not motives generally mixed? St. Bernard preached a Crusade from this pulpit in 1146. The ivory carvings are very ancient, and remarkably fine, representing figures from the Greek myths.

Ivory handles were usual for the fly-fan, or flabellum, used at the altar, to keep flies and other insects away from the Elements. One entry in an inventory in 1429 might be confusing if one did not know of this custom: the article is mentioned as "one muscifugium de pecock" meaning a fly-fan of peacock's feathers!

Small round ivory boxes elaborately sculptured were used both for Reserving the Host and for containing relics. In the inventory of the Church of St. Mary Hill, London, was mentioned, in the fifteenth century, "a lytill yvory cofyr with relyks." At Durham, in 1383, there is an account of an "ivory casket conteining a vestment of St. John the Baptist," and in the fourteenth century, in the same collection, was "a tooth of St. Gendulphus, good for the Falling Sickness, in a small ivory pyx."

Figure 58

IVORY MIRROR CASE; EARTH 14TH CENTURY

Ivory mirror backs lent themselves well to decorations of a more secular nature: these are often carved with the Siege of the Castle of Love, and with scenes from the old Romances; tournaments were very popular, with ladies in balconies above pelting the heroes with roses as large as themselves, and the tutor Aristotle "playing horse" was a great favourite. Little elopements on horseback were very much liked, too, as subjects; sometimes rows of heroes on steeds appear, standing under windows, from which, in a most wholesale way, whole nunneries or boarding-schools seem to be descending to fly with them. One of these mirrors shows Huon of Bordeaux playing at chess with the king's daughter: another represents a castle, which occupies the upper centre of the circle, and under the window is a drawbridge, across which passes a procession of mounted knights. One of these has paused, and, standing balancing himself in a most precarious way on the pommels of his saddle, is assisting a lady to descend from a window. Below are seen others, or perhaps the same lovers, in a later stage of the game, escaping in a boat. At the windows are the heads of other ladies awaiting their turn to be carried off.

Figure 59

IVORY MIRROR CASE, 1340

An ivory chest of simple square shape, once the property of the Rev. Mr. Bowle, is given in detail by Carter in the Ancient Specimens, and is as interesting an example of allegorical romance as can be imagined. Observe the attitude of the knight who has laid his sword across a chasm in order to use it as a bridge. He is proceeding on all fours, with unbent knees, right up the sharp edge of the blade!

Among small box shrines which soon developed in Christian times from the Consular diptychs is one, in the inventory of Roger de Mortimer, "a lyttle long box of yvory, with an ymage of Our ladye therein closed."

The differences in expression between French, English, and German ivory carvings is quite interesting. The French faces and figures have always a piquancy of action: the nose is a little retroussÉe and the eyelids long. The German shows more solidity of person, less transitoriness and lightness about the figure, and the nose is blunter. The English carvings are often spirited, so as to be almost grotesque in their strenuousness, and the tool-mark is visible, giving ruggedness and interest.

Nothing could be more exquisite than the Gothic shrines in ivory made in the thirteenth century, but descriptions, unless accompanied by illustrations, could give little idea of their individual charm, for the subject is usually the same: the Virgin and child, in the central portion of the triptych, while scenes from the Passion occupy the spaces on either side, in the wings.

Statuettes in the round were rare in early Christian times: one of the Good Shepherd in the Basilewski collection is almost unique, but pyxes in cylindrical form were made, the sculpture on them being in relief. In small ivory statuettes it was necessary to follow the natural curve of the tusk in carving the figure, hence the usual twisted, and sometimes almost contorted forms often seen in these specimens. Later, this peculiarity was copied in stone, unconsciously, simply because the style had become customary. One of the most charming little groups of figures in ivory is in the Louvre, the Coronation of the Virgin. The two central figures are flanked by delightful jocular little angels, who have that characteristic close-lipped, cat-like smile, which is a regular feature in all French sculpture of the Gothic type. In a little triptych of the fourteenth century, now in London, there is the rather unusual scene of Joseph, sitting opposite the Virgin, and holding the Infant in his arms.

Among the few names of mediÆval ivory carvers known, are Henry de GrÈs, in 1391, HÉliot, 1390, and Henry de Senlis, in 1484. HÉliot is recorded as having produced for Philip the Bold "two large ivory tablets with images, one of which is the... life of Monsieur St. John Baptist." This polite description occurs in the Accounts of Amiot Arnaut, in 1392.

A curious freak of the Gothic period was the making of ivory statuettes of the Virgin, which opened down the centre (like the Iron Maiden of NÜremberg), and disclosed within a series of Scriptural scenes sculptured on the back and on both sides. These images were called Vierges Ouvrantes, and were decidedly more curious than beautiful.

In the British Museum is a specimen of northern work, a basket cut out from the bone of a whale; it is Norse in workmanship, and there is a Runic inscription about the border, which has been thus translated:

"The whale's bones from the fishes' flood
I lifted on Fergen Hill:
He was dashed to death in his gambols
And aground he swam in the shallows."

Fergen Hill refers to an eminence near Durham.

Figure 60

CHESSMAN FROM LEWIS

Some very ancient chessmen are preserved in the British Museum, in particular a set called the Lewis Chessmen. They were discovered in the last century, being laid bare by the pick axe of a labourer. These chessmen have strange staring eyes; when the workman saw them, he took them for gnomes who had come up out of the bowels of the earth, to annoy him, and he rushed off in terror to report what proved to be an important archÆological discovery.

One of the chessmen of Charlemagne is to be seen in Paris: he rides an elephant, and is attended by a cortÈge, all in one piece. Sometimes these men are very elaborate ivory carvings in themselves.

As Mr. Maskell points out that bishops did not wear mitres, according to high authority, until after the year 1000, it is unlikely that any of the ancient chessmen in which the Bishop appears in a mitre should be of earlier date than the eleventh century. There is one fine Anglo-Saxon set of draughts in which the white pieces are of walrus ivory, and the black pieces, of genuine jet.

Paxes, which were passed about in church for the Kiss of Peace, were sometimes made of ivory.

There are few remains of early Spanish ivory sculpture. Among them is a casket curiously and intricately ornamented and decorated, with the following inscription: "In the Name of God, The Blessing of God, the complete felicity, the happiness, the fulfilment of the hope of good works, and the adjourning of the fatal period of death, be with Hagib Seifo.... This box was made by his orders under the inspection of his slave Nomayr, in the year 395." Ivory caskets in Spain were often used to contain perfumes, or to serve as jewel boxes. It was customary, also, to use them to convey presents of relics to churches. Ivory was largely used in Spain for inlay in fine furniture.

King Don Sancho ordered a shrine, in 1033, to contain the relics of St. Millan. The ivory plaques which are set about this shrine are interesting specimens of Spanish art under Oriental domination. Under one little figure is inscribed Apparitio Scholastico, and Remirus Rex under another, while a figure of a sculptor carving a shield, with a workman standing by him, is labelled "Magistro and Ridolpho his son."

Few individual ivory carvers are known by name. A French artist, Jean Labraellier, worked in ivory for Charles V. of France; and in Germany it must have been quite a fashionable pursuit in high life; the Elector of Saxony, August the Pious, who died in 1586, was an ivory worker, and there are two snuff-boxes shown as the work of Peter the Great. The Elector of Brandenburgh and Maximilian of Bavaria both carved ivory for their own recreation. In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries there were many well-known sculptors who turned their attention to ivory; but our researches hardly carry us so far.

For a moment, however, I must touch on the subject of billiard balls. It may interest our readers to know that the size of the little black dot on a ball indicates its quality. The nerve which runs through a tusk, is visible at this point, and a ball made from the ivory near the end of the tusk, where the nerve has tapered off to its smallest proportions, is the best ball. The finest balls of all are made from short stubby tusks, which are known as "ball teeth." The ivory in these is closer in grain, and they are much more expensive. Very large tusks are more liable to have coarse grained bony spaces near the centre.