AS I have hitherto called attention to the books that we owe to Tory whether as publisher, as author, or as printer and bookseller, so it will be well to notice those which he enriched with his paintings and engravings during twenty years of his life. This is a new aspect of his whole career which it is our present purpose to bring into view; for, while Tory was for some time teacher, bookseller, printer, he was always a draughtsman and engraver, from the day that he was a man grown.

But, first of all, there is a preliminary question to be decided: Was Tory really a painter and engraver? In the first part of this book I said that he was, but I did not furnish proofs of the fact, and none of the historians of painting or of engraving have mentioned him in that connection. It is advisable therefore, first of all, to demonstrate the accuracy of my assertion. In order to solve this complicated question more easily, let us divide it.

Was Tory a painter?

That Tory was a painter-draughtsman, there can be no doubt, for he himself makes the assertion in express terms on each page of 'Champ fleury.' For instance, we read on folio 3 verso of that work, apropos of the Gallic Hercules:—

'I saw this same fable in rich painting within the city of Rome near the Sanguine tower, not far from the Church of Saint Louis, ... and the better to keep the thing in my eye, I made this drawing....'

In the collection of verses written by him on the occasion of the death of his daughter Agnes, Tory makes her speak thus from the urn wherein she is supposed to repose:—

MONITOR.

Who made for you this urn, set with brilliant gems?

AGNES.

Who? My father; famed in this art.

MONITOR.

Certes, your father is an excellent potter.

AGNES.

He practises industriously every day the liberal arts.

Thus Geofroy Tory himself informs us in 1523 that he industriously practised the arts. Now, if this were true, he could not have been ignorant of drawing, which is the first of all the arts. Moreover, it is plain that in those days an engraver (and we shall prove in a moment that Tory was one) could not fail to be a draughtsman. The artist was at that time an all-round workman, embracing all the special branches of his profession: painting, drawing, engraving, he took a hand at them all. Not until it became vulgarized, until it became a trade, was art subdivided—and greatly to its prejudice. In truth, one cannot but realize all that there is to be desired in the work of those mercenaries of the engraver's art, who, having no knowledge of the first elements of drawing, are bidden to reproduce, with the aid of the graving tool, lines which they do not understand.

We can therefore assert that, as a general rule, the engravings found in Tory's books were drawn by him.

But this is not all: I believe that we should also attribute to him the admirable miniatures[275] that have come down to us of the painter known by the name of 'Godefroy.' If, indeed, we compare the engravings in Tory's books with the designs of that painter, we readily recognize a similarity of execution which seems to establish the identity of the two men. This Godefroy, who signs his works sometimes with the full name, sometimes with a simple G, but always in roman letters,—a noteworthy thing at a time when the gothic was in its most flourishing state,—was no other than Tory, whose baptismal name, as we have seen, was in Latin Godofredus. We know how little was thought of family names in the old days. As late as the sixteenth century it was no uncommon thing to see persons designated by their baptismal names alone, or, at most, with the name of their native place added. We have seen[276] that the famous painter Jean Perreal, Tory's master and friend, was little known except by the name of Jean de Paris. Tory himself is called Godefroy the Berrichon (Godofredus Biturix) in some verses which his friend GÉrard de Vercel composed in his praise in 1512.[277] Even at the close of the sixteenth century our two leading bibliographers, Antoine du Verdier and La Croix du Maine, who also bore geographical names, deemed it proper to adopt no other order than that of baptismal names in arranging alphabetically the authors who are mentioned in their books entitled 'BibliothÈque FranÇoise.' There is nothing extraordinary therefore in Tory's signing his first works with a baptismal name alone. It is true that that name is slightly different, orthographically speaking, from the one that he used later; but it is well to remember the change that took place about that time in our author's customs. Doubtless he signed 'Godefroy' before he had entirely shaken off the yoke of the classical languages,[278] and had adopted the more French form 'Geofroy,' which was about the year 1523.

The dates inscribed upon some of Godefroy's paintings, 1519 and 1520, coincide perfectly with the known facts of Tory's life: that was the period when, after his second return from Italy, he was fain to utilize his talents for his livelihood. I may add that we have several engravings of that same period signed with a G alone, or with a G within which appears a small F; others signed with a G surmounted by the double cross, with a small S within; and others signed G. T., which serve to mark the transition between Tory's use of the simple G and the inscription in full of his two names, Geofroy Tory. These two names appear together in one of the borders of his Hours of 1524-1525 [the border which is to be found on p. 105].

Whatever the fact may be, we propose to give here, by way of memorandum, at least a brief list of the works of the painter Godefroy, referring the reader for fuller information to the interesting article which M. LÉon de Laborde has published upon this subject in the 'Renaissance des Arts,' vol. i. pp. 891-913, and, later, in the 'Revue Universelle des Arts,' no. 1 (1855), which article we reproduce below with the author's consent.

The only manuscripts known to contain drawings of this artist are 'Les Commentaires de CÉsar,' in three small quarto volumes; and 'Les Triomphes de Petrarque,' in one small octavo volume—all written in French and bound in vellum.

The first-named work is not, as one might suppose from its title, a translation of the famous work of the conqueror of Gaul, but a commentary thereon in the form of a dialogue between CÆsar and FranÇois I, to whom the book is dedicated. The first volume is now in the British Museum at London, the second in the BibliothÈque Nationale at Paris, and the third in the collection of M. le Duc d'Aumale. All the miniatures in the first volume, and there is a great number of them, are signed with a G; some bear the date 1519. The same is true of the second volume. One of the miniatures in the third volume is signed in full, 'Godefroy' (folio 52); several others, signed G only, are dated 1520.

As for the 'Triumphs' of Petrarch, which is in the BibliothÈque de l'Arsenal, the miniatures bear no dates, but they are all signed with a G, and one has in addition the full name, 'Godefroy.' In the two works the drawings have the same general appearance; they are distinguished from those of the professional miniaturists by a very marked sobriety of colouring. They are noticeable, moreover, by reason of a delicacy of execution and, at the same time, a sharpness of outline which can have come from no other hand than that of an engraver; now the engraver can have been no other than Tory, whose shields and even his antique arabesques we find in these designs.

In addition to these two works, of which the name and the style of the artist seem to me to permit their being attributed to Tory, I will mention here several others, of a somewhat later date, which likewise various circumstances make it possible to attribute to him.

The first is a translation of the first three books of Diodorus Siculus, by Antoine Macault. This superb manuscript, which was in the library of M. Firmin Didot pÈre in 1810, is to-day buried in one of the private libraries of England. A description will be found on pp. 166-168. It is true that there is nothing about it to suggest Tory, but the style of the painting and of the engraving (the book was printed by Tory's widow in 1535) leaves no doubt as to his authorship. The second is a collection of portraits of the kings of France, by Jean du Tillet, the manuscript of which, presented by the author to Charles IX, is still preserved in the BibliothÈque du Roi. See the description of this priceless manuscript, and of several others preserved in the same collection.[279]

We come now to the second question:—Was Tory an engraver?

Neither Zani nor Papillon mentions him as such; nevertheless, there is one presumption in his favour. La Croix du Maine, who was almost his contemporary, tells us[280], without going into details, it is true, that Tory was known by the name 'maÎtre au Pot CassÉ'; others have said that he perfected Josse Bade's letters.[281] M. Renouvier has recently written[282] that Tory possessed the rare faculty of using the 'eschoppe' [graver] as well as the pen. 'Le Champ fleury,' he says, 'is a treatise on Æsthetics such as none but an engraver of types could conceive.' What M. Renouvier conjectured, I assert, with no fear of being contradicted by the facts. To be sure, Tory did not anywhere state categorically that he was an engraver; but he gave it to be understood indirectly. For example, he tells us that, among the fancies that came to his mind on the 6th of January, 1523, and resulted in the composition of 'Champ fleury,' he remembered 'a letter of ancient form,' which he had 'not long since made for the house of my lord the treasurer of the wars, maistre Jehan Groslier, counsellor and secretary to the king our sire.'[283] What was this ancient letter made for the famous bibliophile Grolier, if not the basis of the beautiful roman characters which were used in that scholar's establishment to decorate his books, and to stamp upon them, in gold, this excellent device, among others, 'Ioannis Grolierii et Amicorum?'[284]

Again, all the authorities agree that Claude Garamond was a pupil of Tory. Now, what could he have learned from his master, if not the art of engraving types,—he who did nothing else in his whole life?

Furthermore, it is impossible to doubt that Tory engraved types when one runs through his 'Champ fleury.' Note especially what he says on folio 34 recto, where, having given a drawing of a capital A reversed, he explains it in the technical terms of the engraver.

'This,' he says, 'is done to help and give hints to goldsmiths and engravers, who, with their burin, graver, or other tool, engrave and cut an ancient letter reversed [À l'envers], or, as we say, to the left, so that it may appear to the right when it is printed and placed in its proper aspect. I have purposely made it white, and its background black, the opposite of the one that is drawn to the right, so that no one may be misled. For, as I have said, I have seen and do see many persons who are misled. Before the letter to be printed is finished, it is made twice reversed and twice to the right. In the first of the reversed there are the punches[285] of steel, in which the letter is wholly left-handed. The matrices have the letter to the right. The letter then cast is, as I have said of the punches, left-handed. Then finally on the printed paper the whole appears to the right, and in its proper aspect to be read currently. I had forgotten to say that the broad leg of the A is one tenth of its square in width, and the other leg one third as wide. The transverse limb should be three fourths as wide as the broad leg, as you may see by the drawings herewith made and duly proportioned.'

After this, and knowing as we do the relations between Geofroy Tory and the Estienne family, it will not be deemed extraordinary that I attribute to our artist the italic letters of Simon de Colines, engraved about 1525, and the roman and italic letters of Robert Estienne, engraved a little later.

But Tory not only engraved letters, that is to say, punches on steel, as some authors have stated: he signalized himself above all by his engravings on wood, and he illustrated almost all the books of his time, which fact is almost wholly unknown. I shall be asked, doubtless, upon what evidence my opinion is based. It is this: In the license to print the book of Hours, granted to Tory by FranÇois I on September 23, 1524, we read:[286] 'Our dear and well-beloved maistre Geofroy Tory ... hath now caused it to be made known and shown unto us that he hath of late made and caused to be made certain pictures and vignettes "À l'antique," and likewise certain others, "À la moderne," to the end that the same may be printed and made use of in divers books of Hours, whereupon he hath employed himself a very long time, and hath made divers great expenditures and outlays.' Evidently the words 'he hath made' do not here apply to the drawing, but to the engraving of these pictures and vignettes, which he had previously drawn. Moreover, Tory himself betrayed his profession of engraver on wood in a charming vignette which he used as an initial in 'Champ fleury,' and which is reproduced on page 1. For we see therein, besides a compass, a square, etc., a pen and several varieties of knives used in wood-engraving; all of which justifies the remark of M. Renouvier: 'Tory possessed the rare faculty of using the graver as well as the pen.'

But, I shall be told, it avails nothing to prove vaguely that Tory dabbled in wood-engraving, if we can point to no works of his in that branch of the art,—for no one has done so hitherto. I propose to try to gratify the reader's desire, by proving that there is a way to recognize the engravings executed by Tory.

Many persons have already observed that the principal engravings in Tory's books, those which are most individual, as, for example, the Gallic Hercules (reproduced on page 141), and that of the Pot CassÉ which accompanies the description of that emblem in 'Champ fleury' (reproduced on page 21) bear a mark; but this mark they dare not attribute to him, because it is constantly found upon engravings, alone or accompanied by initials, for more than a century. M. Robert-Dumesnil, in his interesting work entitled 'Le Peintre-Graveur franÇais,' published in the course of his article on Woeiriot,[287] who himself used this same mark, a catalogue of engravings signed with the double cross,—which he calls the cross of Lorraine or of Jerusalem,—extending from 1522 to 1632. He concludes that this mark was 'frequently employed in France, as a fictitious signature, on engravings on wood, by artists whose names will probably remain forever buried in oblivion.'

To banish this phantom, which caused M. Renouvier himself to pause on the pathway of truth,[288] it is sufficient to come to close quarters with it. This is what I propose to do; but first I must thank M. Robert-Dumesnil for having satisfactorily cleared up one important point. Until his book appeared, almost all the engravings marked with the double cross had been attributed to Woeiriot; or, rather, the engravings of the latter had added to the perplexity of classifiers. By identifying Woeiriot's work, M. Robert-Dumesnil has simplified the problem considerably. Only a small number of pieces remain to be ascribed to their authors, and as to these M. Robert-Dumesnil expresses himself thus: 'None of the works executed prior to Woeiriot's birth and the beginning of his career as an artist can be by him; of the others we hasten to say that not one seems to us to have been designed or executed by him.'

Nothing could be clearer. Let us add, to close the discussion, that Woeiriot did not begin to engrave until long after Tory had ceased, as he was barely two years old when Tory died; and, furthermore, that his cross is almost always accompanied by his initials; sometimes, however, he uses the cross alone, but in that case the date prevents confusion. Take, for example, the 'Emblesmes et devises chrestiennes composÉes par damoiselle Georgette de Montenay,' the first edition of which was in 1571. It is impossible to attribute these engravings to Tory, who died nearly forty years earlier.

The other artists who used the cross may be divided into three classes, according to M. Robert-Dumesnil's book. First, we find the cross alone, from 1522 to 1561; secondly, after a long interval, in 1599, the cross appears accompanied by the initials I, L, B; and, lastly, a little later, two engravers on copper, named Jean Barra and Claude Rivard, signed their works with the cross. I do not include here the double cross discovered by M. Robert-Dumesnil on the printer's mark of a book dated 1632, because it is the mark of Gilles Corrozet, engraved a century earlier, as we shall see further on.

To sum up, then, there are no anonymous works bearing the cross except those produced between 1522 and 1561. The only question is whether the engravings executed between those dates, which bear the cross without initials, belong to one or to several artists.

I will, first of all, call attention to the fact that this interval embraces only forty years, and that there is no reason to attribute to several contemporaneous and anonymous artists a very peculiar mark which a single artist might have used during an even longer time. But this is not all: this interval can be reduced by several years; for the examples alleged to be subsequent to 1557, mentioned by M. Robert-Dumesnil, bear no date; they appear, it is true, in books printed after that year, but they were engraved earlier, as I shall prove in due time. Blocks are not ephemeral objects; like type, they can be used indefinitely, and their use at a certain date does not prove that they had been made within a short time. We have just cited one—Gilles Corrozet's mark—which, simply by lack of use, it was possible to reproduce in books for more than a century.

What surprises me is not that M. Robert-Dumesnil has seen engravings with the cross printed in 1561, but that he has found none of a later date, which would have allowed him to fill up the gap that he has left between the anonymous artist of the cross alone and him who accompanied it with the letters I, L, B; he might have discovered the beautiful illustration of the Missal of 1539, which is described hereafter, in books of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Indeed, we find wood engravings of the sixteenth century, bearing the double cross, in a book published at Troyes in 1850!

On the other hand, I am surprised that M. Robert-Dumesnil found no engravings with the cross, accompanied by initials, of a date much earlier than 1599, for I myself have seen some that were contemporaneous with Tory. In fact, the BibliothÈque Nationale possesses a book of Hours according to the use of Paris, printed in that city in 1548, by Jean de Brye's widow, in which all the engravings are marked with the cross and the initials L, R. It is an octavo volume, printed in gothic type, and in red and black. An interesting fact to be noted here is that these engravings are improved copies of other unsigned engravings belonging to the printer Thielman Kerver,[289] and printed in a large number of books issued by him or his widow, Iolande Bonhomme, at least as early as 1522,[290] and still to be seen in the Paris Missal, published by his son Jacques in 1559. I have seen also engravings of the artist with the initials I, L, B (cited by M. Robert-Dumesnil under the date of 1599), in a book of 1547.

These facts do not tend to contradict my proposition; they prove that Tory founded a school, and that his pupils adopted his mark (which is nothing more than his initial, or, rather, his toret, transferred from the Pot CassÉ, of which it was the essential feature, to his engravings), adding thereto their initials, to distinguish themselves from the master whose ensign they hoisted, and to preserve their own individuality. I shall recur to this subject later.

The principal reason which prevented M. Renouvier from attributing to Tory, as he was naturally inclined to do, the engravings marked with the double cross alone, was the impossibility, in his judgement, of attributing them all to the same artist. 'M. Robert-Dumesnil,' he says, 'has noted a large number of books of 1522 to 1599, on the title-pages and plates of which the cross of Lorraine is found. This list might be increased, and the items should be carefully compared by whoever would try to find on them the mark of a wood-engraving establishment, or of several engravers on wood who worked for the booksellers Pierre Gaudoul, Simon de Colines, Robert Estienne, Grouleau, Gilles Corrozet, Vincent Sertenas,[291] etc.'

I have already answered the objection based upon M. Robert-Dumesnil's book, which he himself has abandoned with great pleasure, taking a deep interest in my discovery.[292] As for what M. Renouvier adds, it does not run counter to my suggestion, for I have already mentioned that, after Tory's death, his widow carried on his engraving establishment for several years, retaining the same mark. This, doubtless, is the explanation of the differences to be noticed in the works signed with the Lorraine cross; for Perrette le Hullin, not being an engraver herself, must have employed different workmen.

This leads me to answer an objection that has been made to my theory. My attention has been called to the fact that the Lorraine cross appears on works anterior to Tory,—such, for example, as the mark of Gauthier Lud, the first printer of Saint-DiÉ in Lorraine. I have no purpose to claim the Lorraine cross for Tory alone. He was not its inventor, nor did it die with him; but there is a distinction to be made between an emblem employed in a general way, and one employed as the special mark of an artist. Not only do I not claim for Tory the Lorraine cross surmounting a circle, which appears on the mark of the Lorraine printer, Gauthier Lud,[293] in 1507, but I exclude the Lorraine cross surmounting a large gothic G, found on the title-page of a folio Missal according to the use of the church of Toul, printed at Paris by Wolfgang Hopyl, in 1508.[294] To my mind nothing could be more natural than that the Lorraine cross should be used in Lorraine; but that does not prove that an artist at Bourges may not have adopted it as the mark of his establishment.

I mention hereafter as one of Tory's first engravings on wood the title-page of a book printed at Meaux in 1522, and I then say that the preface of that book was dated 'Meldis, anno M. D. XXI.'[295] M. Brunet makes me say,[296] I cannot imagine why, 'Metis' instead of 'Meldis'; and M. Didot, misled by that statement, says that the book in question was published at Metz,[297] which fact seems to him to explain the presence of the Lorraine cross on the title. This shows how an error may be appealed to in support of a theory.

Not only have I not exaggerated the part played by my hero, as authors are somewhat in the habit of doing,—on the contrary, I have restricted it as much as possible. Since the publication of my first edition, an attempt has been made to prove Tory to be the maker, or, at least, the decorator, of the beautiful Henri II porcelains, so-called, the subject of a recent publication of MM. Delange, father and son. M. Didot himself adopted this opinion,[298] which is based upon a vague similarity, but is completely refuted by the date of Tory's death. So far as I am concerned, appearances are of no consequence, unless they are accompanied by some substantial evidence; and that is why I have excluded from the list of Tory's works some engravings that Messrs. Renouvier and Didot do not hesitate to attribute to him because of certain similarities, but which do not bear his mark. It is that mark which has served me as a guide in identifying Tory's work. The objection is made, to be sure, that this plan requires the attribution to Tory of engravings of very dissimilar styles. Every plan has its disadvantages; but, all things considered, I prefer one that has something to stand upon to one that has nothing. Moreover, it is easy to explain the different styles of the artist of the Lorraine cross by referring to what has often taken place in the careers of other artists. In truth, how many painters have we seen change their style of painting at a certain period of their lives! But there is an even simpler way of explaining these dissimilarities in different engravings, namely, by admitting with me that the Lorraine cross was the mark of Tory's workshop, but that in that workshop there were other artists of very diverse abilities. In the same way, we see to-day a multitude of engravings signed 'Andrew,' 'Best,' 'Leloir,' to which those artists certainly never put their hands.

But let us have done with argument and come to the facts: they will prove more conclusively than any number of dissertations the truth of our statement concerning Tory; they will prove, in fact, that all the works signed by the cross alone were engraved during that artist's lifetime, or in the establishment which he founded and which his widow retained until about 1556.

To make the demonstration clearer, I will divide what I still have to say into three sections. In the first I will include all the manuscripts the decoration of which can be attributed to Tory; in the second I will describe all the engravings marked with the Lorraine cross that are known to me, arranging them in chronological order; and in the third I will mention such marks of printer-booksellers bearing the aforesaid cross, as I have been able to discover. As it is impossible for me to follow the chronological order in this last category, I have adopted the alphabetical order, which will enable one to find at once such of these marks as are mentioned in the second section.