Part 18

IV.--At the French Court

About this time the Cardinal of Ferrara came to Rome from the court of France, and in the name of King Francis urged my release, to which he got the Pope's consent during a convivial meeting without the knowledge of Luigi. The Pope's order was brought to the prison at night, and I was conducted to the palace of the Cardinal. The Cardinal was summoned by Francis I. to Paris, and to bring me with him.

The French king received me graciously, and I presented him with a cup and basin which I had executed for his majesty, who declared that neither the ancients nor the greatest masters of Italy had ever worked in so exquisite a taste. His majesty ordered me to make him twelve silver statues. They were to be figures of six gods and six goddesses, made exactly to his own height, which was very little less than three cubits. I began zealously to make a model of Jupiter. Next day I showed him in his palace the model of my great salt-cellar, which he called a noble production, and commissioned me to make it in gold, commanding that I should be given directly a thousand old gold crowns, good weight.

As a mark of distinction, the king granted me letters of naturalisation and a patent of lordship of the Castle of Nesle. Later, I submitted to the king models of the new palace gates and the great fountain for Fontainebleau, which appeared to him to be exceedingly beautiful. Unluckily for me, his favourite, Madame d'Estampes, conceived a deep resentment at my neglect for not taking notice of her in any of my designs. When the silver statue of Jupiter was finished and set up in the corridor of Fontainebleau alongside reproductions in bronze of all the first-rate antiques recently discovered in Rome, the king cried out: "This is one of the finest productions of art that was ever beheld; I could never have conceived a piece of work the hundredth part so beautiful. From a comparison with these admirable antique figures, it is evident that this statue of Jupiter is vastly superior to them."

Madame d'Estampes was more highly incensed than ever, but the king said I was one of the ablest men the world had ever produced. The king ordered me a thousand crowns, partly as a recompense for my labours, and partly in payment of some disbursed by myself. I afterwards set about finishing my colossal statue of Mars, which was to occupy the centre of the fountain at Fontainebleau, and represented the king. Madame d'Estampes continuing her spiteful artifices, I requested the Cardinal of Ferrara to procure leave for me to make a tour to Italy, promising to return whenever the king should think proper to signify his pleasure. I departed in an unlucky hour, leaving under the care of my journeymen my castle and all my effects; but all the way I could not refrain from sighing and weeping.

At this time Cosmo, Duke of Florence, resided at Poggio Cajano, a place ten miles from Florence. I there waited upon him to pay my respects, and he and his duchess received me with the greatest kindness. At the duke's request I undertook to make a great statue of Perseus delivering Andromeda from the Medusa. A site was found for me to erect a house in which I might set up my furnaces, and carry on a variety of works both of clay and bronze, and of gold and silver separately. While making progress with my great statue of Perseus, I executed my golden vases, girdles, and other jewels for the Duchess of Florence, and also a likeness of the duke larger than life.

For a time I discontinued working upon marble statues and went on with Perseus, and eventually I triumphed over all the difficulties of casting it in bronze, although the shop took fire at the critical moment, and the sky poured in so much rain and wind that my furnace was cooled. I was so highly pleased that my work had succeeded so well that I went to Pisa to pay my respects to the duke, who received me in the most gracious manner, while the duchess vied with him in kindness to me.

V.--His Later Life in Florence

About this time the war with Siena broke out, and at the request of the duke I carried out the repair of the fortifications of two of the gates of the city of Florence. At last my statue of Perseus was erected in the great square, and was shown to the populace, who set up so loud a shout of applause that I began to be comforted for the mortifications I had undergone. Sonnets and Latin and Greek odes were hung upon the gates in praise of my performance, but what gave me the highest satisfaction was that statuaries and painters emulated each other in commending it. Two days having passed, I paid a visit to the duke, who said to me with great complaisance: "My friend Benvenuto, you have given me the highest satisfaction imaginable, and I promise to reward you in such a manner as to excite your surprise." I shed tears of joy, and kissing the hem of his excellency's garment, addressed him thus: "My most noble lord, liberal patron of the arts, I beg leave to retire for a week to return thanks to the Supreme Being, for I know how hard I have worked, and I am sensible that my faith has prevailed with God to grant me His assistance." Permission was given, and I made the pilgrimage to Vallombrosa and Camaldoli, incessantly singing psalms and saying prayers to the honour and glory of God.

On my return there were great differences between the duke and myself as to the reward to be given me for the statue of Perseus, during which the duchess and the sculptor Bandinello interposed. Bandinello declared that the work had proved so admirable a masterpiece, that, in his opinion, it was worth 16,000 gold crowns and upwards. When the duke was informed of this decision he was highly displeased, and down to the close of the year 1566 I received no more than 3,000 gold crowns, given to me monthly by payments of 25, 50, or 100 crowns.

Subsequently, I was employed to erect two pulpits in the choir of St. Maria del Fiore, and adorn them with historical figures in basso-relievo of bronze, together with varieties of other embellishments. About this period, the great block of marble, intended for the gigantic statue of Neptune, to be placed near the fountain on the Ducal Piazza, was brought up the River Arno, and thence by road to Florence. A competition took place between the model which I had made for the statue of Neptune and that designed by Bandinello. The duchess, who had become my implacable enemy, favoured Bandinello, and I waited upon her, carrying to her some pretty trifles of my making, which her excellency liked very much. Then I added that I had undertaken one of the most laborious tasks in the world--the carving of a Christ crucified, of the whitest marble, upon a cross of the blackest, and as large as the life. Upon her asking me what I proposed doing with it, I said I would freely make her a present of it; that all I desired was that she would be neutral with respect to the model of the Neptune which the duke had ordered to be made.

When I had finished the model of Neptune, the duke came to see it. It gave him high satisfaction, and he said I deserved the prize. Some weeks later, Bandinello died, and it was generally thought that the grief which he felt at losing the fine piece of marble out of which the statue of Neptune was to be made greatly contributed to hasten his dissolution. When I was working at my great model of Neptune, I was seized with illness, caused by a dose of sublimate poison administered in food by a man named Sbietta and his brother, a profligate priest, from whom I had bought the annuity of a farm. Upon my recovery the duke and the duchess came unexpectedly with a grand retinue to my workshop to see the image of Christ upon the Cross, and it pleased them so greatly that they bestowed the highest encomiums on me. Though I had undergone infinite labour in its execution, yet with pleasure I made them a present of it, thinking none more worthy of that fine piece of work than their excellencies. They talked a long time in praise of my abilities, and the duchess seemed, as it were, to ask pardon for her past treatment of me.

At this juncture the Queen Dowager of France, Catherine de Medici, dispatched Signor Baccio del Bene on a mission to our duke. The signor and I were intimate friends, and he told me that the queen had a strong desire to finish the sepulchral monument to her husband, King Henry, and if I chose to return to France and again take possession of my castle, I should be supplied with whatever I wanted, in case I was willing to serve her majesty. But when this was communicated to the duke, his excellency said he meant to keep me in his own service; and the Queen of France, who had received a loan of money from the duke, did not propose the thing any more for fear of offending him; so I was obliged to stay, much against my will.

The last entry in Benvenuto Cellini's manuscript is the announcement of a journey made by Duke Cosmo with his whole court, including his brother, the Cardinal de Medici, to Pisa, where the latter was attacked by "a malignant fever, which in a few days put an end to his life. The cardinal was one of the duke's chief supporters, and highly beloved by him, being a person of great virtues and abilities. Consequently, his loss was severely felt."

In 1554, Benvenuto had been admitted to the ranks of the Florentine nobility. In 1560 he married Piera, the woman named in his will, who nursed him through his illness from the poison administered by the Sbietta family. By her he had five children, two of whom died in infancy. In 1561, Duke Cosmo made him a grant of a house near San Croce, in the Via Rosajo, Florence, "in consideration of his admirable talents in casting, sculpture, and other branches of art." The patent continues: "We look upon his productions, both in marble and bronze, as evident proofs of his surpassing genius and incomparable skill."

Benvenuto was deputed by the sculptors of Florence to attend the obsequies of his great master and friend, Michael Angelo Buonarroti, who had died on February 18, 1564. Benvenuto died on December 13, 1569, and was buried by his own direction in the Chapter House of the Church of the Annunziata, Florence, with great pomp.

* * * * *

CHATEAUBRIAND

Memoirs From Beyond the Grave

The "Mémoires d'Outre-Tombe," which was partly published before Chateaubriand's death, represents a work spread over a great part of Chateaubriand's life, and reveals as no other of his books the innermost personality of the man. (Chateaubriand, biography: see FICTION.)

I.--Youth and Its Follies

Four years ago, on my return from the Holy Land, I purchased a little country house, situated near the hamlet of Aulnay, in the vicinity of Sceaux and Chatenay. The house is in a valley, encircled by thickly wooded hills. The ground attached to this habitation is a sort of wild orchard. These narrow confines seem to me to be fitting boundaries of my long-protracted hopes. I have selected the trees, as far as I was able, from the various climes I have visited. They remind me of my wanderings.

Knight-errant as I am, I have the sedentary tastes of a monk. It was here I wrote the "Martyrs," the "Abencerrages," the "Itinéraire," and "Moise." To what shall I devote myself in the evenings of the present autumn? This day, October 4, being the anniversary of my entrance into Jerusalem, tempts me to commence the history of my life.

I am of noble descent, and I have profited by the accident of my birth, inasmuch as I have retained that firm love of liberty which characterises the members of an aristocracy whose last hour has sounded. Aristocracy has three successive ages--the age of superiority, the age of privilege, and the age of vanity. Having emerged from the first age, ft degenerates in the second age, and perishes in the third.

When I was a young man, and learned the meaning of love, I was a mystery to myself. All my days were adieux. I could not see a woman without being troubled. I blushed if one spoke to me. My timidity, already excessive towards everyone, became so great with a woman that I would have preferred any torment whatsoever to that of remaining alone with one. She was no sooner gone than I would have recalled her with all my heart. Had anyone delivered to me the most beautiful slaves of the seraglio, I should not have known what to say to them. Accident enlightened me.

Had I done as other men do, I should sooner have learned the pleasures and pains of passion, the germ of which I carried in myself; but everything in me assumed an extraordinary character. The warmth of imagination, my bashfulness and solitude, caused me to turn back upon myself. For want of a real object, by the power of my vague desires, I evoked a phantom which never quitted me more. I know not whether the history of the human heart furnishes another example of this kind.

I pictured then to myself an ideal beauty, moulded from the various charms of all the women I had seen. I gave her the eyes of one young village girl, and the rosy freshness of another. This invisible enchantress constantly attended me; I communed with her as with a real being. She varied at the will of my wandering fancy. Now she was Diana clothed in azure, now Aphrodite unveiled, now Thalia with her laughing mask, now Hebe bearing the cup of eternal youth.

A young queen approaches, brilliant with diamonds and flowers--this was always my sylph. She seeks me at midnight, amidst orange groves, in the corridors of a palace washed by the waves, on the balmy shore of Naples or Messina; the light sound of her footsteps on the mosaic floor mingles with the scarcely heard murmur of the waves.