THE Rathaus Railing was the last and greatest of the works produced by the combined efforts of the Vischer family. It is vain to attempt to apportion the share of father and sons in it. That each had his share in it we may easily deduce from the history of it given above, and the result was a very perfect whole, the most complete and beautiful achievement of German craftsmen labouring under the overwhelming influence of neo-paganism in art.

It would be tedious and unprofitable to enumerate here the manifold works, great and small, which have been in times past attributed to the old Master by uncritical generations of credulous collectors. Almost every piece of sixteenth or seventeenth century bronze work in Germany has been at one time or another called a masterpiece by Peter Vischer. But one characteristic piece undoubtedly by him is the “Boy with Bagpipes” (Knabe mit Dudelsack), now in the Germanic Museum at Nuremberg. (III. 26.) It is a charming little work, completely in the manner of the Nuremberg school and of the Master of the St. Maurice preserved in the Krafft House in the same town. DÜrer, it will be remembered, dealt once in a popular little engraving with the same subject of a bagpiper, treating it, however, in a very different manner.

When Peter Vischer died in 1529 he left the Foundry he had established at Nuremberg to his son Paul. Paul, as we have seen, had already shown signs of being anxious to leave his native town and to seek his fortune elsewhere. The trade of the bronze-workers in Nuremberg was no longer a flourishing industry. On succeeding to the foundry, therefore, Paul quickly seized his opportunity. He sold his inheritance to his brother Hans in the same year and left Nuremberg. He went to live in Mainz, and acquired there the rights of a burgher.

Hans remained to carry on his father’s business, and to complete a few of his father’s inchoate commissions. He is known henceforth as Hans der Giesser—Hans the Founder. He continued to use the trade mark of the House, and on more than one occasion signed in his father’s name as the lawful successor to the business. There is, for instance, a letter extant which is nominally written by Peter Vischer, but in reality by Hans in the deceased craftsman’s name, for it is dated January 25th, 1529, whereas Peter Vischer died on the sixth of that month. In that letter Hans begs the Duke Heinrich von Mecklenburg to send for a monument which had already been lying a whole year in the foundry, and for which payment is demanded. This reference fixes the date of the purely heraldic tomb-plate which commemorates the Duchess Helene von Mecklenburg. (Ill. 27.)

An example of Hans’ use of the Vischer mark is to be found in the tomb of Bishop Sigismund of Lindenau, in the Cathedral at Merseburg, whilst a tablet with a high relief of a Madonna in the Parish Church at Aschaffenburg bears an inscription to the effect that Johannes Vischer of Nuremberg made it in 1530. The former of these two monuments consists of a lifeless prelate kneeling before a weak and effeminate figure on the cross. It dates from the year 1544, and is a work of no importance except as an example of the extremely rapid deterioration exhibited by German art after the days of DÜrer and the great Vischers. Hans was not an original artist of any talent, but merely a painstaking craftsman. Where he had the taste and designs of his father and brother to guide him he turned out some admirable work, as for example the second of the above-named monuments. This tablet forms a pendant to the memorial of Cardinal Albrecht von Brandenburg. The Christ-Child holds an apple in one hand and stretches out the other with a life-like gesture, looking the while at the Mother who carries him on her left arm. The Madonna’s head is oval in shape, not of the square German type, and her eyes are admirably full of expression. The drapery is both simple and boldly handled. But every beauty in this beautiful work, from the central figure down to the small angels who are playing musical instruments in the corners, and who take their part in the crowning of Mary, is the direct outcome of imitation—imitation of Peter Vischer and the Italian masters he had copied and loved.

Another piece which was certainly cast by Hans Vischer but for which he was not, in all probability, altogether responsible, is the tomb-plate of Bishop Lorenz of Bibra, in the Cathedral at WÜrzburg, for the Bishop died as early as the year 1519. The hand of Vischer’s father, therefore, may well be assumed to be traceable in this design. Ten years after the Bishop’s death we find Hans, through the medium of the Nuremberg Council, presenting a petition to the Bishop of Bamberg, in which the executor of my Lord of Bibra is humbly requested to pay the twenty-two gulden still owing to the craftsman.

The tomb of the Elector Johann Cicero of Brandenburg, which is in the Cathedral at Berlin, is also signed by Hans Vischer, and it is dated 1530. (Johannes Vischer Noric. Facieb. 1530.) This tomb was a long time in the making, and in the original conception of it Peter Vischer the father was concerned. This we may gather from a letter to Prince Joachim I., wherein he acknowledges the receipt of two hundred gulden on account of the tomb which the said prince had discussed with him in his workshop, and for which, Peter reminds his Highness, he had made two designs on paper. He now requests the Prince to return to him one of those designs in order that he may be able to complete the work to the best advantage.

The rough sketch for this tomb or part of it is all that we should care to attribute to Peter Vischer in this matter. He must have entrusted the execution of the commission to one of his less gifted sons, who was following without being able completely to master the developments which were taking place in the style of the House. The tomb, by whatever hand, has clearly been executed at two different periods and in two distinct parts. In style the original portion, which is the lower, is stiff and conventional, and the architectural framework is chiefly Gothic, with here and there, as in the case of the medallion-heads, a touch of the Renaissance. The later portion is the upper, and it reflects the change which had in the meantime come over the artistic aims of the House of Vischer; but it reflects them in a feeble and uncertain manner. The mantle of the Renaissance appears to sit uneasily on shoulders cast in the Gothic mould, and to betray the workman who has never got rid of the hardness and stiffness of his early days. But he obeys none the less the influence of the artists in the house, and after his father’s death signs the monument Johann Vischer.

A much more successful instance of Hans Vischer’s work in the Renaissance style would be the canopy over the tomb of St. Margaret in the Parish Church of Aschaffenburg. The authorship of this canopy must not, indeed, be attributed to that craftsman without reserve; but, if it did come from the Nuremberg foundry at all, to Hans should be given the credit of it. For it belongs to the year 1536.

A less doubtful example of his painstaking craftsmanship is to be found in the Apollo, of which an illustration is given here. (Ill. 28.) It stands now in the Court of the Rathaus at Nuremberg, and serves as a fountain-piece. Hans has based the construction of his bronze upon an engraving by Jacopo de’ Barbari. But he has not hesitated to introduce several alterations from the original designs. Vischer’s Apollo has the right hand, which is about to let the arrow fly from the string, more energetically drawn back, and the elbow-joint is set further back. In Barbari’s drawing Apollo is represented as stretching the bow and looking down, although he is pointing the arrow upwards. It was a distinct improvement when Hans made the Far-darter’s gaze to follow the direction of the arrow’s flight. Amongst other minor alterations he has represented the God, probably out of consideration for the material in which he was working, with short hair in place of the locks streaming in the wind found in Barbari’s design. The obvious fault of the piece—a fault which proves entirely ruinous to its success as a work of art—is that upon the slim, attenuated Italian figure, excessively coarse and heavy hands and feet have been grafted. And the arms are grossly exaggerated in length. The playing children and sporting dolphins on the base of the fountain are but crude adaptations of the stock-in-trade with which the labours of Peter and Hermann had supplied the paternal foundry.

The tale of the works of Hans Vischer is told, and so far as we can judge there is no reason to claim for him a higher position than that of a craftsman who conscientiously transmitted into bronze the designs and inspirations of others. The fall of the House of Vischer was, in fact, very close at hand. It may be dated in its final realization soon after the year 1549, for it was then that Hans Vischer determined to leave his native town and to settle in EichstÄdt. And this is the last we hear of him in the Nuremberg records. The Council of Nuremberg, we are told, did indeed endeavour, through the mediation of the Guild of Coppersmiths, to induce, if not to compel, him to remain at home. But he persisted in his determination to depart. He was ready even to pay the price of binding himself not to practise his craft abroad. He was to accept no commission for a bronze-work, such were the terms laid down, without the knowledge and the consent of the Council, and if he then succeeded in obtaining their sanction to undertake it, he was to execute the whole of the casting, from beginning to end, at Nuremberg. His readiness to comply with these conditions would seem to indicate that neither at home nor abroad did he any longer have hopes of success in his craft. The bronze industry, apparently, had gone from bad to worse: the fashion for bronze tombs and memorials had passed, and commissions no longer poured in upon the Vischer Foundry as they had done in the palmy days of Maximilian. Germany was already in the bitter throes of that Catholic reaction from which she was only destined to emerge after the terrible ordeal of the Thirty Years’ War. Nuremberg herself was engaged in a bitter and exhausting struggle with her hereditary enemies the Margraves of Brandenburg. Wars must needs come, but artists are the first to suffer from them. For peace and prosperity are necessary to provide citizens with the means of enjoying that luxury which is art. And art is the first luxury which men under the pressure of taxation are willing to deny themselves.

It was then, probably, for these reasons, and perhaps from other considerations of which we know nothing, that Hans Vischer decided to leave the “quaint old town of toil and traffic, quaint old town of art and song” which was his birth-place. He accepted the terms which were imposed upon him by the Council, and on which he obtained leave of absence to live at EichstÄdt and at other places, if he chose, for five years. At the expiration of that term, however, it was stipulated that he should return and dwell at his old home in Nuremberg. Whether he did so return we are not informed. For with his departure in 1549 he disappears for ever from our ken. Thus the members of the Vischer family were scattered, and their works, under the stress of the wars and misery which came upon the land, were forgotten or confused, and the name and fame of their house sank once more into that obscurity whence Hermann Vischer had begun to raise it just a century before.