Various

(Concluded from p. 539.)

A divine, reasoning philosophically with a lady on the possibility of the appearance of ghosts, was much perplexed by her simple inquiry as to where the clothes came from. If then the mediÆval effigies are alive, how can the costume be reconciled with their position? Where do their clothes come from? The theory advanced in the two preceding Numbers seems to offer a ready solution. Another corroborative fact remains to be stated, that when a kneeling attitude superseded the recumbent, the brasses were placed upon the wall, testifying, in some degree at least, that the horizontal figures were not traditionally regarded as living portraits. In anticipation of objections, it can only be said that "they have no speculation in their eyes;" that out of the thousands in existence, a few exceptions will only prove the rule; and that their incongruities were conventional.

It is now my purpose to offer a few more reasons for releasing the sculptors of the present day from a rigid adherence to the uplifted hands and the straight head. That there is grace, dignity, and pious serenity occasionally perceptible in these interesting relics of bygone days, which so appropriately furnish our magnificent cathedrals, and embellish numbers of our parochial churches, is freely admitted; but that they are formal, conventional, monotonous, and consequently unfitted for modern imitation, cannot reasonably be denied by a person with pretensions to taste. From the study of anatomy, the improvement in painting, the invention of engraving, our acquaintance with the matchless works of Greece, and other causes, this branch of art has made considerable advance. Why, then, should a sculptor be now "cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in," by such inflexible conditions? If some variation is discoverable in the ancient types, why should he not have the advantage of selection, and avail himself of that attitude best adapted to the situation of the tomb and the character of the deceased? Not to multiply examples of deviation—the Queen of Henry IV., in Canterbury Cathedral, has one arm reposing at her side, and the other upon her breast. The arms of Edward III., in Westminster Abbey, are both stretched at his side. An abbot of Peterborough, in that cathedral, holds a book and a pastoral staff. The hands of Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, in his beautiful chapel, are raised, but separate. Several have the arms crossed, expressive of humility and resignation. Others (lay as well as clerical) press a holy book to their bosom; and some place the right hand upon the heart, denoting the warmth of their love and faith. In his description of Italian monuments, Mr. Ruskin remarks, that "though in general, in tombs of this kind, the face of the statue is slightly turned towards the spectator, in one case it is turned away" (Stones of Venice, vol. iii. p. 14.); and instances are not unfrequent of similar inclinations of the head at home. Why then should this poor choice be denied? Why should he be fettered by austere taskmasters to this stereotyped treatment, to the proverbial stiffness of "our grandsires cut in alabaster." Indignation has been excited in many quarters against that retrograde movement termed "pre-Raphaelism," yet what in fact is this severe, angular, antiquated style, but identically the same thing in stone? What but pre-Angeloism? Upon the supposition that the effigies have departed this life, or even that the spirit is only about to take its flight, anatomical and physiological difficulties present themselves, for strong action would be required to hold the hands in this attitude of prayer. The drapery, too, hanging in straight folds, has been always apparently designed from upright figures, circumstances evincing how little the rules of propriety were then regarded. Their profusion occasions a familiarity which demands a change, for the range is here as confined as that of the sign-painter, who could only depict lions, and was therefore precluded from varying his signs, except by an alteration in the colour. Such is the yearning of taste for diversity, that in the equestrian procession on the frieze of the Parthenon, out of about ninety horses, not two are in the same attitude; yet to whatever extent our churches may be thronged with these sepulchral tombs, all must be, as it were, cast in the same mould, till by repetition their beauty

"Fades in the eye and palls upon the sense."

It is evidently imitating the works of antiquity under a disadvantage, inasmuch as modern costume is far inferior in picturesque effect to the episcopal vestments, the romantic armour, and numerous elegant habiliments of an earlier day. Every lesser embellishment and minuteness of detail are regarded by an artist who has more enlarged views of his profession as foreign to the main design; yet the robes, millinery, jewellery, and accoutrements usually held a place with the carvers of that time of equal importance with the face, and engaged as large a share of their attention.

The comparative easiness of execution forms another argument. Having received the simple commission for a monument (specifications are needless), the workmen (as may be imagined) fixes the armour of the defunct knight upon his table, places a mask moulded from nature on the helmet-pillow, fits on a pair of hands with which, like an assortment of gloves, his studio is provided, diligently applies his compasses to insure exact equality by means of a receipt, perchance imparts some devotional expression, and the work is ready to be transferred to stone.

Mr. Petit, in the preface (page x.) to his Architectural Studies, after due praise, asserts—

"That no sculptor anxious to advance his own reputation and art will ever set up a mediÆval statue as his model. He may acknowledge its merits, and learn much from a careful examination of it, but still he will not look up to its designer as his master and guide."

Again, the efforts of genius are cramped by such uncompromising terms. The feet must unavoidably be directed towards the east; still, whatever the situation of the tomb may chance to be, from whatever point it may be viewed, or whether the light may fall on this side or on that, no way of escape is open, and no ingenuity can be employed to grapple with the uncontrollable obstruction. Portrait painters can choose the position most favourable to the features, but the monumental sculptor of the nineteenth century may only exhibit what is generally shunned, the direct profile; the contour of the face, and the wide expanse of brow, which might probably give the most lively indications of intellectual power, amiability of disposition, and devout tranquillity of soul, must be sacrificed to this unbending law "which altereth not." Sculptors, we are told, should overcome difficulties; but here they are required to "strive with impossibilities, yea, get the better of them." Whether painted windows, or some other ornament, or a tomb alone in harmony with the architecture (the form and features of the individual being elsewhere preserved), may constitute a more desirable memorial, is a separate question, but as statues are only admissible in a recumbent posture, some little latitude must be allowed. Like our reformers in higher things, it behoves us to discard what is objectionable in art, while we cherish that which is to be admired. Instead of treading in the footsteps of those lofty spirits, we should endeavour to follow the same road. Fully appreciating their excellences, let us avoid the distorted drawing of their brilliant glass, their irregularities in architectural design, the irreverence of their carving, and the conventionalism of their monumental sculpture.

C. T.

I agree with C. T. in thinking that the usual recumbent figure on mediÆval tombs was intended to represent a dead body, and more particularly to represent the body as it had lain in state, or had been borne to the grave; and I will add one or two additional reasons for this opinion. In the description in Speed, of the intended monument of Henry VIII., taken from a MS. given to Speed by that industrious herald master, Charles Lancaster, the following direction occurs:—

"Item, upon the same basement shall be made two tombes of blacke touch, that is to say, on either side one, and upon the said tombes of blacke touch shall be made the image of the King and Queen, on both sides, not as death [dead], but as persons sleeping, because to shewe that famous princes leaving behind them great fame never doe die, and shall be in royall apparels after the antique manner."—Speed's Hist. of Great Brit., p. 1037. ed. 1632.

The distinction here taken between a dead and a sleeping figure, and the reason assigned for the latter, show, I think, that at that time a recumbent figure generally was supposed to represent death. In a monument of Sir Roger Aston, at Cranford, Middlesex, in Lysons' Environs of London, the knight and his two wives are represented praying, and by the side of the knight lies the infant son who had died in his lifetime. In the monument of Pope Innocent VIII. (Pistolesi, Il Vaticano, vol. i. plate 63.), the Pope is in one part represented in a living action, and in another as lying on his tomb, and from the contrast which would thus be afforded between life and death, the latter representation seems to indicate death.

The hands raised in prayer are accounted for by C. T. Open eyes, I think, may be intended to express, by their direction towards heaven, the hope in which the deceased died. This is suggested by the description of the funeral car of Henry V.

"Preparations were made to convey the body of Henry from Rouen to England. It was placed within a car, on which reclined his figure made of boiled leather, elegantly painted. A rich crown of gold was on its head. The right hand held a sceptre, and the left a golden ball. The face seemed to contemplate the heavens."—Turner's Hist. of Eng., vol. ii. p. 465.

I must, however, add that on referring to Monstrelet, I doubt whether Turner does not go too far in this last particular. Monstrelet merely says, "le visage vers le ciel." (Monst. Chron. vol. i. 325. ed. 1595.) Speed adds an additional circumstance: "The body (of this figure) was clothed with a purple roabe furred with ermine." From the mutilated state of the tomb it is impossible to say how far the recumbent effigy resembled this boiled figure, but it is evidently just such a representation of the king as might have been laid on his tomb, and so far it tends to support the opinion that the effigy on a tomb represents the deceased as he had lain in state, or was borne to and placed in his tomb, an opinion fully borne out by the agreement which, in some cases, has been found to exist between the effigy on a tomb and the body discovered within it, or between the effigy and the description of the body as it had lain in state. See the tombs of King John, Robert Lord Hungerford, and Henry II., in Stothard's Monumental Effigies of Great Britain, and the Introduction to that work.

I think it is not irrelevant to remark that at a very early period a recumbent figure was sometimes placed on a tomb as in a state of death. The recumbent Etruscan figures generally represent a state of repose or of sensual enjoyment; but there is one given by Micali (Monumenti inediti a Illustrazione degli Antichi Popoli Italiani, Tav. 48. p. 303.), which is, undoubtedly, that of a dead person. In his description of it, Micali says, "On the first view of it one would say it was a sepulchral monument of the Middle Ages, so greatly does it resemble one." Mrs. Gray, too (Tour to the Sepulchres of Etruria, p. 264.), mentions a sepulchral urn, "very large, with a woman robed, and with a dog upon it, exactly like an English monument of the Middle Ages." If it were not for the dog, I should suppose this to be the one given by Micali. Though it may be too much to suppose that this form of representation may have been not uncommon, and may have passed into early Christian monuments, the instance in Micali at least shows that the idea of representing a dead body on a tomb is a very ancient one. It may be added, perhaps, that it is an obvious one.

Though the reasons for thinking that the ordinary mediÆval figure represents death may not be conclusive, still that opinion is, I think, entitled to be looked upon as the more probable one, until some satisfactory reason is given why a living person should be represented outstretched, and lying on his back—a position, as it seems to me, more inconsistent with life than the open eyes and hands joined in prayer are with death. For too much weight is not to be attached to slight inconsistencies. These would probably be disregarded for the sake of expressing some favourite idea or sentiment. Thus, in the proposed monument of Henry VIII., though the king and queen are directed to be represented as living, their souls are to be represented in the hand of "the Father."

In modern tombs the mediÆval idea has been entirely departed from, and the recumbent position sometimes expresses neither death, nor even sleep, but simple repose, or contemplation, resignation, hope, &c. If it is proper or desirable to express these or other sentiments in a recumbent figure, it seems unreasonable to exclude them for the sake of a rigid adherence to a form, of which the import is either obscure, or, if rightly conjectured, has, by the change of customs, become idle and unmeaning.

F. S. B. E.

ROGER ASCHAM AND HIS LETTERS.

To the epistles of Roger Ascham, given in Elstob's edition, have since been added several to Raven and others^[1], two to Cecil^[2], and several to Mrs. Astley, Bp. Gardiner, Sir Thos. Smith, Mr. Callibut, Sir W. Pawlett, Queen Elizabeth, the Earl of Leicester, and Mr. C. H.[owe].^[3] Some of your correspondents will, doubtless, be able farther to enlarge this list of printed letters.

In a MS. volume, once belonging to Bp. Moore, now in the University Library, Cambridge, is a volume of transcripts^[4], containing, amongst other documents, letters from Ascham to Petre^[5] and to Cecil; one (p. 44.) "written by R. A., for a gent to a gentlewoman, in waie of marriage," and one to the B. of W.[inchester], which, though without a signature, is certainly Ascham's. In another MS. volume, in the same collection (Ee. v. 23.), are copies of Ascham's letter to his wife on the death of their child^[6], and of a letter to Mr. Richard Goodrich. Lastly, Ascham's College (St. John's) possesses his original letter to Cardinal Pole, written on the fly-leaf of a copy of Osorius De nobilitate civili^[7]; and also the original MS. of the translation of Œcumenius, accompanied by a Latin letter to Seton.^[8]

These unpublished letters will shortly be printed for the Cambridge Antiquarian Society. Early information respecting any other MS. works of Ascham, or collations of his published letters with the originals, will be thankfully acknowledged.

J. E. B. Mayor.

St. John's College, Cambridge.

P. S.—I may add that we have at St. John's a copy of Ascham's Letters (ed. Elstob), with many dates and corrections in Baker's hand. There may be something new in Kennett's biographical notice of Ascham (Lansdowne MSS. 981. art. 41.)