Nicolas Poussin 9780691253510

Table of contents :
The A. W. Mellon Lectures in the Fine Arts
Preface
Contents
List of Illustrations
I Poussin's Youth in France (i594-1624)
II The Early Roman Years (1624-1630)
III The 1630's
IV Poussin and Stoicism
V Poussin's Religious Ideas
VI Poussin's Friends and Patrons in Paris
VII Poussin's Ideas on Painting
VIII Poussin's Paintings (1643-1653)
IX Landscape
X The Figure Compositions of the Last Phase (1654-1665)
XI The Late Mythological Landscapes
XII The Last Synthesis: Tlie Four Seasons and the Apollo and Daphne
Postscript
Appendix
Bibliography
Indexes

Citation preview

BOLLINGEN SERIES XXXV • 7

THE A. W. MELLON LECTURES IN THE FINE ARTS delivered at the National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.

1952.

CREATIVE INTUITION IN ART AND POETRY by Jacques Maritain

1953. THE NUDE: A Study in Ideal Form by Kenneth Clark 1954. THE ART OF SCULPTURE by Herbert Read 1955.

PAINTING AND REALITY by Etienne Gilson

1956.

ART AND ILLUSION: A Study in the Psychology of Pictorial Representation by E. H. Gombrich

1957.

THE ETERNAL PRESENT by S. Giedion I. THE BEGINNINGS OK ART II. THE BEGINNINGS OF ARCHITECTURE

1958.

NICOLAS POUSSIN by Anthony Blunt

1959.

OF DIVERS ARTS by Naum Gabo

1960. HORACE WALPOLE by Wilmarth Sheldon Lewis 1961. THE BEGINNINGS OF CHRISTIAN ICONOGRAPHY by Andre Grabar 1962.

BLAKE AND TRADITION by Kathleen Raine

1963. THE PORTRAIT IN THE RENAISSANCE by John Pope-Hennessy 1964. ON QUALITY IN ART by Jakob Rosenberg 1965. THE ORIGIN OF ROMANTICISM by Isaiah Berlin 1966. SAMUEL PALMER, DREAMER OR VISIONARY: A Study of English Romantic Painting by David Cecil

The A. W. Mellon Lectures in the Fine Arts

have been delivered annually since 1952 at the National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC, with the goal of bringing “the people of the United States the results of the best contemporary thought and scholarship bearing upon the subject of the Fine Arts.” As publication was always an essential part of the vision for the Mellon Lectures, a relationship was established between the National Gallery and the Bollingen Foundation for a series of books based on the talks. The first book in the series was published in 1953, and since 1967 all lectures have been published by Princeton University Press as part of the Bollingen Series. Now, for the first time, all the books in the series are available in one or more formats, including paperback and e-book, making many volumes that have long been out of print accessible to future generations of readers. This edition is supported by a gift in memory of Charles Scribner, Jr., former trustee and president of Princeton University Press. The Press is grateful to the Scribner family for their formative and enduring support, and for their commitment to preserving the A. W. Mellon Lectures in the Fine Arts for posterity. Images in this edition may have been altered in size and color from their appearance in the original print editions to make this book available in accessible formats.

A JV T H 0 MY

B L UM T

NICOLAS POUSSIN The A. W. Mellon Lectures in the Fine Arts 1958 National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. T E X T

BOLLINGEN SERIES XXXV • 7

Princeton University Press

COPYRIGHT ©

I 9 6 7 BY THE TRUSTEES OF THE NATIONAL GALLERY OF ART, WASHINGTON, D. C.

PUBLISHED BY BOLLINGEN FOUNDATION, NEW YORK, N. Y.

THIS IS THE SEVENTH VOLUME OF THE A. W. MELLON LECTURES IN THE FINE ARTS, WHICH ARE DELIVERED ANNUALLY AT THE NATIONAL GALLERY OF ART. WASHINGTON. THE VOLUMES OF LECTURES CONSTITUTE NUMBER XXXV IN BOLLINGEN SERIES, PUBLISHED BY BOLLINGEN FOUNDATION

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGUE CARD NO. 6 6 - 1 6 2 3 7 DESIGNED BY ANDOR BRAUN

New paperback printing 2023 ISBN (paper) 978-0-691-25350-3 ISBN (ebook) 978-0-691-25351-0

To my Mother

Preface

T H E GESTATION

of this book has been a lengthy process. I first became interested in Poussin

as a schoolboy in the early 1920's. My dissertation written for a Fellowship at Trinity College, Cambridge, to which I was elected in 1932, was largely concerned with Poussin's ideas about painting, though it spread out into a wider field; and, although I have inevitably been led to work on other subjects, Poussin has always remained my first love. Over the years I have set down a certain number of my views on Poussin in the form of articles, but I have always meant to write a book on the artist. This intention took on a more tangible form when I was invited to give the A. W. Mellon Lectures in the Fine Arts at the National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C., in 1957. The six lectures I delivered then form the nucleus of the present book. While preparing the lectures I had begun much work that could not be incorporated in them, and it was agreed that I should continue this work and rewrite the lectures to include my new material. The Poussin Colloque organized by Professor Andre Chastel in Paris in 1958 and the exhibition held at the Louvre in 1960 provided further food for thought and in the event the new manuscript was not submitted till December 1961. The complicated technical work required to prepare for the press a publication of this scope has taken more time, during which articles on Poussin or relating to him have appeared. I have not always been able to take full account of these, but I have tried to do so in cases where the material they presented seemed to me of real importance. The original plan of expanded lectures called for a third volume in addition to these volumes of text and plates, containing a catalogue raisonne and a comprehensive bibliography, but it was later agreed that the Phaidon Press should publish this third volume, in the same format as the Mellon Lectures and forming a complement to them. The book as it now appears is far from being the one I originally planned to write. My first idea was to produce a straightforward monograph on Poussin as a painter, but the more I studied him the more I became convinced that in order to appreciate him as an artist it is essential to understand the intellectual climate in which he worked and the ideas — religious, philosophical, or aesthetic — in which he believed and which affected his method of work as well as his paintings. IX

PREFACE In consequence, a great part of this book is devoted to a discussion of Stoic philosophy, early Christian theology, classical archaeology, and a number of subjects which do not normally take so large a place in a monograph dealing with a painter. But this, I believe, was inevitable. I hope that at some time I shall write a book — a much shorter book — in which these matters can be taken for granted and Poussin's supreme merits as a painter can be made the principal theme. The solution of the iconographical and philosophical problems involved in Poussin's art was first indicated by Professor Walter Friedlaender in his monograph of 1914 in which he pointed out the Stoic themes embodied in many of Poussin's compositions of the 1640's. A different approach was initiated by Professor Ernst Gombrich's explanation of the Orion, published in the Burlington Magazine in 1944. I developed this approach in an article on Poussin's landscape paintings which appeared in the Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes for 1944, and I summarized my views on the importance of symbolism in Poussin's late works in a paper read to the Poussin Colloque of 1958. Many individual paintings have been the subject of iconographical analysis — notably by both Professor Erwin Panofsky and the late Mrs. Dora Panofsky — but much remains to be done. I sincerely hope that others will develop points which are in many cases only touched on in the present volume. The debts which I have incurred during the thirty years and more that I have worked on Poussin are so many that it would be impossible to acknowledge them all. I hope that I have mentioned in the text or notes all cases in which I am indebted to individual scholars for specific pieces of information; if I have not, it is due to oversight, not lack of gratitude. There are, however, some friends whose help has been so continuously and so generously given that they must be thanked individually. Like all students of Poussin I must pay tribute to the great pioneer work of Professor Friedlaender who laid the foundations of Poussin studies in his monograph and who continued to build on these foundations in other works. It has been my privilege to discuss Poussin problems with Professor Friedlaender since I first came to know him on the occasion of the Royal Academy exhibition of French art at Burlington House in 1932 and to collaborate with him in the publication of the catalogue of Poussin's drawings that is being published by the Warburg Institute. It would be difficult to explain how much I have learned from him, but my debt to him is inestimable. My warmest thanks must also go to Professsor Ellis Waterhouse who throughout my whole period of work on Poussin has put at my disposal his vast knowledge of this and many other subjects and has added the generous service of reading the manuscript when it was assuming its final form. Mr. Andrew Gow performed the same kind action and corrected many references to classical authors. I also benefited greatly from working with Professor Charles Sterling in organizing the Poussin exhibition held at the Louvre in 1960. I cannot hope to thank adequately the staff of the Courtauld Institute, but I must mention with gratitude the help of the Photographic Department, the Witt and Conway libraries, the Depart-

PREFACE ment of Technology, and the Slide Department — for many parts of this book have been given as lectures — and among the teaching staff, Mr. Michael Kitson and Dr. John Shearman, for their help in discussing individual problems. My gratitude to Miss Elsa Scheerer is harder to express. Without her care and efficiency the book would undoubtedly contain many more mistakes than it does, and without her constant patience and kindness it would never have been brought to completion at all. The staff of the Bollingen Series, particularly Mr. Wallace Brockway and Miss Irene Gordon, have rendered continued assistance. In addition, they have been most helpful in bringing the manuscript into conformity with American rules of printing in the matter of spelling, punctuation, and form of reference in the notes. I must also thank the Editor and Assistant Editor of the Series for their generosity in urging me to include as many illustrations as were necessary to enable the reader to follow my argument with ease. I owe a special debt to the owners of works of art for permitting me to reproduce objects in their collections and perhaps an even greater debt to those who have allowed me to discuss and, if necessary, to reproduce paintings in their possession which have been attributed to Poussin but which in my opinion are not by him. Their generosity and forbearance are proof of a real desire to help scholarship. A. F. B. London, March 1966

XI

Contents

Preface

ix

List of Illustrations

xv

I Poussin's Youth in France (i594-1624) 11 The Early Roman Years (1624-1630)

3 54

in The 1630's

100

IV Poussin and Stoicism

157

V Poussin's Religious Ideas

177

VI Poussin's Friends and Patrons in Paris

208

VII Poussin's Ideas on Painting

219

VIII

Poussin's Paintings (1643-1653)

248

ix Landscape

268

x The Figure Compositions of the Last Phase (1654-1665)

301

xi The Late Mythological Landscapes

313

XII The Last Synthesis: Tlie Four Seasons and the Apollo and Daphne

332

Postscript

357

Appendix

359 Xlll

CONTENTS

Bibliography

381

Indexes List of Poussin's Works by Subject Categories

395

Index to Titles of Poussin's Works

405

General Index

413

XIV

List of Illustrations Unless otherwise indicated, all photographs of the works of art reproduced have been supplied by the owners.

1. Carved reliefs on the organ in Notre-Dame, Le Grand Andely. Mid 16th century, P: Courtauld Institute of Art, London 2. Quentin Varin. The Martyrdom of St. Vincent. 1612. Notre-Dame, Le Grand Andely. P: Courtauld Institute 3. Quentin Varin. The Martyrdom of St. Clams. 1612. Notre-Dame, Le Grand Andely. P: Courtauld Institute 4. Quentin Varin. Regina Coeli (Immaculate Conception). 1612. Notre-Dame, Le Grand Andely. P: Courtauld Institute 5. Quentin Varin. The Rock of the Philosophers. Musee des Beaux-Arts, Rouen 6. Quentin Varin. St. Charles Borromeo Giving Alms. St.-Etienne-du-Mont, Paris, P: Photo Bulloz, Paris 7. Quentin Varin. The Entombment. Louvre, Paris, P: Giraudon, Paris 8. After Josef Heintz. Diana and Actaeon. Engraving by Aegidius Sadeler. P: Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris 9. French School. Diana and Actaeon. Late 16th century. Musees Nationaux, France, P: The Ideal Studio, Edinburgh 10. Poussin. Detail of Diana and Actaeon. 1614. Private collection, Paris, P: Bulloz 11. Ferdinand Elle the Elder. Portrait of Mme de Chdtillon. Hampton Court Palace (Copyright reserved). P: A. C. Cooper, Ltd., London 12. Georges Lallemand. The Prevot des Marchands and the Echevins of the City of Paris. 1611. Musee Carnavalet, Paris, P: Bulloz 13. French School. The Prevot des Marchands and the Echevins of the City of Paris. 1614. Musee Carnavalet, Paris. P: Bulloz 14. After Georges Lallemand. The Procuress. Chiaroscuro woodcut by Ludolf Biisinck. P: The British Museum, London 15. Martin Freminet. The Fall of the Rebel Angels. 1608. Chapelle de la Sainte-Trinite, Chateau de Fontainebleau. P: Bulloz 16. Ambroise Dubois. The Crusaders' Camp Before Jerusalem. Galerie des Assiettes, Chateau de Fontainebleau. P: Claude Esparcieux, Fontainebleau 17. Ambroise Dubois. Clorinda and Argante Leaving Saladin to Fight the Crusaders. Galerie des Assiettes, Chateau de Fontainebleau. P: Claude Esparcieux 18. After Toussaint Dubreuil. Diana Before Jupiter. Tapestry. Collection Hotel President, Geneva, P: Christie, Manson & Woods, Ltd., London xv

8 10 10 11 11 12 12 14 14 15 17 18 18 19 21 22 23 24

LIST OF

ILLUSTRATIONS

19. Toussaint Dubreuil. Unidentified subject. Drawing. Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Studios Josse Lalance & Cie, Paris 20. Toussaint Dubreuil. Study for "Sacrifice/3 Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Josse Lalance 21. Toussaint Dubreuil. Sacrifice. Louvre, Paris, P: Agraci, Paris 22. Hieronymus Franck the Elder. The Adoration of the Shepherds. 1585. Notre-Dame, Paris, P: Archives Photographique, Paris 23. Hieronymus Franck the Elder. The Beheading of John the Baptist. 1600. Gemaldegalerie Alte Meister, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden. P: Deutsche Fotothek, Dresden 24. Frans Pourbus the Younger. The Last Supper. 1618. Louvre, Paris, P: Giraudon, Paris 25. After Giulio Romano. The Triumph of Scipio. Engraving by Giorgio Ghisi. P: Bibliotheque Nationale 26. Roman Sculpture. Sleeping Ariadne. Museo Pio-Clementino, The Vatican, P: Alinari, Rome 27. Poussin. Copy of "Sleeping Ariadne." Wax. Height l l l / 2 " (29 cm), length 2 1 % " (55 cm). Louvre, Paris. P: Agraci 28. Giovanni Baglione. Terpsichore. Musee d'Arras, P: Plouvier, Arras 29. Ottavio Leoni. Portrait of Giovanni Battista Marino. Engraving. Courtesy the Trustees of the British Museum, London, P: John R. Freeman & Co., London 30. After Simon Vouet. Portrait of Giovanni Battista Marino. Engraving. Courtesy the Trustees of the British Museum. P: John R. Freeman 31. Poussin. Bacchanal. Drawing. Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest 32. Poussin. The Birth of Adonis. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 33. Poussin. The Birth of Priapus. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 34. Poussin. Diana Slaying Chione. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 35. Poussin. Dryope. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 36. Poussin. The Transformation of Acis into a River God. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 37. Poussin. Apollo Guarding the Herds of Admetus. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 38. Poussin. Polyphemus, Acis, and Galatea. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 39. Poussin. Orpheus in Hades. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 40. Poussin. Thetis and Achilles. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 41. Poussin. Battle Scene. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle, P: John R. Freeman 42. Poussin. Battle Scene. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 43. Poussin. Battle Scene. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle, P: John R. Freeman 44. Poussin. Battle Scene (The Death of Camilla?). Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 45. Poussin. Minerva and the Muses. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 46. Poussin. lo, Mercury, and Argus. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 47. Antonio Tempesta. Victory of Joshua. Engraving. 1613. P: Gabinetto Disegni e Stampe degli Uffizi, Florence 48. After Carlo Saraceni. The Death of the Virgin. Engraving by Jean Le Clerc, 1619. Courtesy the Trustees of the British Museum, P: John R. Freeman 49. Gabriel de Saint-Aubin. Sketch After Poussin's "Death of the Virgin" made in 1771 in the margin of Saint-Aubin's copy of Gueffier's Description historique des curiosites de Veglise de Paris (1763). Bibliotheque Historique de la Ville de Paris xvi

24 25 25 27 27 29 30 32 32 35 38 38 40 41 41 42 42 43 43 44 44 45 46 46 47 47 48 48 49 50

50

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 50. French School. The Death of the Virgin, c. 1550. Detail of wooden door, St.-Maclou, Rouen. P: Courtauld Institute 51. Caravaggio. The Death of the Virgin. 1605/6. Louvre, Paris. P: Giraudon 52. Gabriel de Saint-Aubin. Drazving of a Bust of Poussin's Wife by Francois Dnqnesnoy. Pencil drawing made in the margin of Bason's Marietta Sale Catalogue, July 1775. Museum of Fine Arts, Boston 53. Domenichino. The Flagellation of St. Andrew. San Gregorio al Celio, Rome, P: Alinari 54. Guido Reni. St. Andrew Led to Martyrdom. San Gregorio al Celio, Rome, P: GFN, Rome 55. Giovanni Bellini and Titian. The Feast of the Gods. National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. (Widener Collection) 56. Titian. The Feast of Venus. Prado, Madrid. P: Foto MAS, Barcelona 57. Titian. Bacclianal of the Andrians. Prado, Madrid. P: Foto MAS 58. Titian. Bacchus and Ariadne. The National Gallery, London 59. After Poussin. The Capture of Jerusalem. Anonymous engraving after a lost drawing. P: Courtauld Institute 60. School of Marcantonio Raimondi. Solomon and the Queen of Sheba. Engraving. Courtesy the Trustees of the British Museum, P: John R. Freeman 61. Roman Sculpture. The Emperor Haranguing His Troops. Aurelian relief on the Arch of Constantine, Rome. P: Soprintendenza ai Monumenti del Lazio 62. Polidoro da Caravaggio. Perseus and Phineus. Drawing. Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris. P: Josse Lalance 63. Roman Sculpture. Battle Scene. Trajanic relief on the Arch of Constantine, Rome, P: Sopr. Lazio 64a. Roman Sarcophagus. Putti Performing Rites of the Dionysiac Mysteries. Palazzo Mattei cli Giove, Rome, P: Courtauld Institute, from S. Reinach, Repertoire des reliefs grecs et romains, III, Paris, 1912, p. 295, 3 64fo. Roman Sarcophagus. Putti Performing Rites of the Dionysiac Mysteries. Palazzo Mattei di Giove, Rome, P: Deutsches Archaeologisches Institut, Rome 65a. Roman Sarcophagus. Putti Performing Rites of the Dionysiac Mysteries. Villa Albani, Rome. P: Courtauld Institute, from Reinach, Rep. d. rel., Ill, p. 38, 1 656. Roman Sarcophagus. Pntti Performing Rites of the Dionysiac Mysteries. Villa Albani, Rome. P: Alinari 66. Poussin. Draining* After the Antique. Musee Bonnat, Bayonne 67. X-ray photograph of Poussin's Triumph of David in Dulwich College Picture Gallery, London. P: Courtauld Institute 68. After Raphael. Parnassus. Engraving by Marcantonio Raimondi. Courtesy the Trustees of the British Museum. P: John R. Freeman 69a. Titian. Sacred and Profane Love. Borghese Gallery, Rome, P: Alinari 69/?. Detail of figure 69a. P: Anderson, Rome 70. Copy after Poussin. The Flight into Egypt. Drawing. Collection P. Q. Reulos, Paris 71. X-ray photograph of Poussin's Midas at the Source of the Pactolus in Musee Fesch, Ajaccio, Corsica, P : Courtauld Institute 72. X-ray photograph of Poussin's Adoration of the Golden Calf in Collection Mrs. John Booth, Southwell, Notts, P: Courtauld Institute 73. Paris Bordone. Pieta. Formerly Palazzo Ducale, Venice, P: Anderson XVI1

51 51

55 58 58 59 60 60 61 62 64 65 67 67

68 68 68 68 69 71 72 74 74 75 76 76 79

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 74. X-ray photograph of Poussin's Bacchus-Apollo in Nationalmuseum, Stockholm 75. Veronese. The Marriage of St. Catherine. Hampton Court Palace (Copyright reserved). P: A. C. Cooper 76. Veronese. John the Baptist Preaching. Borghese Gallery, Rome, P: Alinari 77. Raphael. Apollo and Marsyas. Stanza della Segnatura, The Vatican, P: Anderson 78. Roman Relief. Hercules and the Hesperides. Villa Albani, Rome, P: Alinari 79. Pietro da Cortona. The Martyrdom of St. Erasmus. Drawing. Gabinetto Disegni e Stampe, Uffizi, Florence 80. Pietro da Cortona. The Martyrdom of St. Erasmus. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle. P: John R. Freeman 81. Poussin. The Martyrdom of St. Erasmus. Drawing. Gabinetto Disegni e Stampe, Uflizi, Florence 82. Valentin de Boullogne. The Martyrdom of SS. Processus and Martinianus. Pinacoteca, The Vatican. P: Alinari 83. Poussin. Massacre of the Innocents. Drawing. Musee d'Art et d'Histoire, Lille, P: Giraudon 84. X-ray photograph of detail of Poussin's Inspiration of the Epic Poet in the Louvre, Paris 85. Domenichino. St. Cecilia Distributing Clothes to the Poor. San Luigi dei Francesi, Rome, P: Anderson 86. Simon Vouet. The Virgin Appearing to St. Bruno. San Martino, Naples, P: Anderson 87. Poussin. The Entombment. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 88. After Raphael. The Plague of the Phrygians. Engraving by Marcantomo Raimondi. Courtesy the Trustees of the British Museum. P: John R. Freeman 89. Sebastiano Serlio. Setting for the Tragic Scene, in Regoli generali di architettnra. Venice, 1551. Book II, fol. 29v. P: Courtauld Institute 90. Attributed to Gianlorenzo Bernini. Portrait of Nicolas Poussin. Collection Sir William Worsley, Bart., Hovingham Hall, Yorks. P: Sydney W. Newbery, London 91. Gianlorenzo Bernini. Portrait of a Boy. Borghese Gallery, Rome, P: E. Richter, Rome 92. Andrea Sacchi. Detail of the Divina Sapienza. Ceiling fresco, c. 1630. Palazzo Barberini, Rome. P: Anderson 93. Francois Duquesnoy. St. Susanna. 1630. Santa Maria di Loreto, Rome, P: Anderson 94. Poussin. Self-Portrait. Drawing. The British Museum, London 95. Pietro Anichini. Portrait of Cassiano dal Pozzo. Engraving. P: Gabinetto Nazionale delle Stampe, Rome 96. Poussin. Camel. Drawing. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad 97. Poussin. Camel. Drawing. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad 98. Poussin. Soldiers on an Elephant. Drawing. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad 99. Poussin. Soldier on a Rhinoceros. Drawing. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad 100. Guercino. Venus and Adonis. Destroyed, formerly Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden. P: Courtauld Institute 101. Poussin. The Kingdom of Flora. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 102. Studio of Poussin. The Kingdom of Flora. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 103. The Erotes, illustration in Blaise de Vigenere's Tableaux de Philostrate, 1610. Courtesy the Trustees of the British Museum, P: John R. Freeman 104. Poussin. Venus and Mercury. Drawing. Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Josse Lalance XVlll

80 82 82 84 84 87 87 87 87 89 89 91 93 93 95 95 96 96 97 97 98 101 104 104 104 104 105 107 107 108 109

LIST OF

ILLUSTRATIONS

105. 106. 107. 108.

Reconstruction photograph of Poussin's Venns and Mercury, P: Courtauld Institute Poussin. Venus, Cupid, and Fan. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle Hellenistic Sculpture. Pan, Venus, and Cupid. National Museum, Athens After Cesari d'Arpino. Amor vincit Panem. Engraving by Jakob Matham. Courtesy the Trustees of the British Museum, P: John R. Freeman 109. Poussin. Putti Fighting on Goats. Drawing. Ecole des Beaux-Arts, Paris, P: Agraci 110. Poussin. Nova Nupta (?). Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle, P: John R. Freeman 111. Poussin. Nova Nupta (?). Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 112. Roman Painting. The Aldobrandini Wedding. The Vatican, P: Alinari 113. After Martin de Vos. The Death of Adonis. Engraving by Crispin de Passe, 1602. P: Courtauld Institute 114. Poussin. Perseus and Andromeda. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 115. Studio of Poussin. Perseus and Andromeda. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 116. Studio of Poussin. Venus and Adonis Hunting. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 117. Raphael. The Adoration of the Magi. Logge, The Vatican, P: Alinari 118. Annibale Carracci. The Adoration of the Magi. Galleria Doria-Pamphili, Rome, P: Villani & Figli, Bologna 119. Domenichino. The Death of St. Cecilia. San Luigi dei Francesi, Rome, P: Anderson 120. Peter Paul Rubens. Peasant Dance. Prado, Madrid, P: Courtauld Institute 121. Hellenistic Relief. The Borghese Dancers. Louvre, Paris, P: Archives Photographiques 122. School of Andrea Mantegna. Four Dancing Women. Engraving, P: The British Museum 123. Attributed to Giulio Romano. Apollo and the Muses. Palazzo Pitti, Florence, P: Alinari 124a. Poussin. The Death of Hip poly tus. Drawing. The Pierpont Morgan Library, New York 124/?. Poussin. Aesculapius Reviving Hippolytus. Verso of figure 124a 125. Roman Sarcophagus. The Triumph of Bacchus. National Museum, Athens, P: Alinari 126. Poussin. The Triumph of Bacchus. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 127. Poussin. The Triumph of Bacchus. Drawing. Nelson Gallery-Atkins Museum, Kansas City (Nelson Fund) 128. After Giulio Romano. The Triumph of Priapus. Engraving published by Philippe Thomassin after the Master of the Die. P: New York Public Library 129. Poussin. The Triumph of Pan. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 130. Poussin. The Trinmph of Pan. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle, P: John R. Freeman 131a. Salpion of Athens. The Birth of Bacchus. Marble vase. Museo Nazionale, Naples, P: Anderson 131ft. Dancing Maenads (another view of fig. 131a). P: Alinari 132. Poussin. Studies After the Antique. Musee Conde, Chantilly. P: Giraudon 133. Poussin, after Nicolas Beatrizet. Studies After the Antique. Ecole des Beaux-Arts, Paris, P: Agraci 134. The Worship of Priapus. Woodcut in Francesco Colonna, Hypnerotomachia Poliphili, 1499. P: Courtauld Institute 135. The Worship of Priapus. Engraving in G. B. Marliani, Topograpltia antiquae urbis Romae. Ed. J. J. Boissard, 1627. Courtesy the Trustees of the British Museum, P: John R. Freeman 136. After Poussin. Rebecca and Eliezer, The Worship of Priapus, Studies After a Lost Drawing. Drawing. Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris. P: Josse Lalance

xix

109 110 110 111 111 112 113 113 115 120 121 121 125 126 126 128 129 130 130 132 133 135 136 136 137 138 139 139 139 140 142 143 144 145

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 1.37. Roman Mosaic. The Triumph of Neptune. A.n. 283-305. Louvre, Paris, P: Archives Photographiques 138. Poussin. Hercules and Deianira. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 139. Louis Nicolas van Blarenberghe. View of the Long Gallery of the Louvre. Panel of snuff box. Private collection, P: R. Bonnefoy, Meudon-la-Foret 140. Poussin. Mnthis Scaevola. Drawing. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad, P: Courtauld Institute 141. Poussin. The Horatii. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle, P: John R. Freeman 142. Studio of Poussin. The Clemency of Alexander. Drawing. The Royal Library. Windsor Castle. P: John R. Freeman 143. Poussin. The Death of Virginia. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 144. Poussin. The Finding of Queen Zenobia. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 145. Poussin. The Death of Cato the Younger. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 146. Poussin. Scipio Africanus and the Pirates. Drawing. Ecole des Beaux-Arts, Paris, P: Agraci 147. Unknown Painter. Piazza di Spagna. 17th century. Museo di Roma, Rome, P: GFN 148. Confidentia. Seal of Poussin's ring. 149. Poussin. Moses and the Daughters of Jethro. Drawing. Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Ciraudon 150. After Andrea del Sarto. Madonna del Sacco. Collection H. H. Schubart, Bristol 151. Carlo Dolci. The Gifts of the Magi. Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna 152. Carolingian Ivory. The Crucifixion. Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Munich 153. Giacomo della Porta. Sant'Atanasio dei Greci, Rome, P: GFN 154. Early Christian Sarcophagus. The Deceased (detail). Lateran Museums, Rome, P: Alinari 155. Poussin. Drawing for "Confirmation." The Royal Library, Windsor Castle, P: John R. Freeman 156. Poussin. Drawing for "Confirmation." Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Josse Lalance 157. Poussin. Draiving for "Confirmation." Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Josse Lalance 158. Poussin. Drawing for "Confirmation." Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Josse Lalance 159. Poussin. Drawing for "Confirmation." The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 160. Raphael. Feed My Sheep. Victoria and Albert Museum, London (Crown copyright) 161. Early Christian Sarcophagus. Christ and the Twelve Apostles. Louvre, Paris, P: Giraudon 162. Poussin. Drawing for "Ordination" Present whereabouts unknown, P: Courtauld Institute 163. Poussin. Drawing for "Ordination" The Pierpont Morgan Library, New York 164. Poussin. Drawing for "Ordination." Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris. P: Josse Lalance 165. Poussin. Drawing after an early Christian sarcophagus. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad 166. Poussin. Drawing after a fresco in the catacombs. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad 167. Early Christian Sarcophagus. Christ Amid Scenes from the Old and New Testaments. Lateran Museums, Rome, P: Alinari 168. After Friedrich Sustris. The Choice of Hercules. Engraving by Johann Sadeler. Courtesy the Trustees of the British Museum. P: John R. Freeman 169. Salvator Rosa. The Grove of the Philosophers. Palazzo Pitti, Florence, P: Alinari 170. Poussin. Draiving for "Ordination." Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Josse Lalance 171. Ancient tomb outside Jerusalem. P: Sir Anthony F. Blunt, London 172. Carlo Maratta. Confirmation. Drawing. Stadelsches Kunstinstitut, Frankfurt a.M. 173. Poussin. Camillns and the Schoolmaster of Falerii. Drawing. The British Museum. London xx

147 152 159 161 162 162 163 164 164 165 172 174 181 182 183 185 190 192 193 194 194 195 196 197 197 198 198 199 200 200 200 202 203 204 205 206 214

L I S T OF

ILLUSTRATIONS

174. Peter Paul Rubens. Self-Portrait. Royal Collection, Windsor Castle. i>: Photo Studios, Ltd., London 175. Poussin. Drawings After Trajan's Column. Musee Conde, Chantilly. P : Giraudon 176. Poussin. Drawings After Trajan's Column. Musee Conde, Chantilly. P: Giraudon 177. Poussin. Drawings After the Antique. Musee Bonnat, Bayonne. r: Archives Photographiques 178. Poussin. Drawings After the Antique. Musee Bonnat, Bayonne. P : Archives Photographiques 179. Poussin. Drawing After the Arch of Titus. Nationalmuseum, Stockholm 180. Roman Sarcophagus. Sarcophagus of the Muses (detail). Capitoline Museums, Rome, P: Alinari 181. Michelangelo. Bacchus. Museo Nazionale, Florence, P : Alinari 182. Pietro Santi Bartoli. Triumph. Engraving in G. P. Bellori, Ichnograj>hia veteris Romae, Rome, 1764 (4th ed. of Fragmenta vestigii veteris Romae, 1673). P: Gabinetto Nazionale delle Stampe 183. Roman Sculpture. Antinons. Museo Pio-Clementino, The Vatican, P: Alinari 184. Roman Sculpture. Woman Wearing a Peplos. Museo Nazionale Romano, Rome. [•: E. Richter 185. Roman Sculpture. Ludovisi Herm. Museo Nazionale Romano, Rome, P: Deutsches Archaeologisches Institut, Rome 186. Roman Sculpture. Ludovisi Herm of Hercules. Museo Nazionale Romano, Rome, P: Deutsches Archaeologisches Institut 187. Andrea Palladio. Temple of Bacchus, in / qualtro libri dell'archileltnra, Venice, 1570, Bk. IV, ch. 21, p. 86. P: Courtesy Avery Architectural Library, Columbia University 188. Andrea Palladio. Temple at Trevi, in / qnattro libri . . ., Bk. IV, ch. 25, p. 100. P: Avery Architectural Library 189. Andrea Palladio. Temple at Pola, in / quattro libri . . . . Bk. IV, ch. 27, p. 109. r: Avery Architectural Libray 190. Andrea Palladio. Temple of Vesta on the Tiber, in / qnattro libri . . . . Bk. IV, ch. 14, p. 53. P: Avery Architectural Library 191. Andrea Palladio. Temple of Vesta at Tivoli, in / quattro libri . . . , Bk. IV, ch. 23, p. 92. P: Avery Architectural Library 192. Leone Battista Alberti. Loggia of the Forum, in X Lihri de architectural Florence, 1550. P: Courtauld Institute 193. Andrea Palladio. Temple of Mars Ultor, in / qnattro libri . . . , Bk. IV, ch. 7, p. 16. i>: Avery Architectural Library 194. Vincenzo Scamozzi. Palazzo Fino at Bergamo (detail), in Idea dell'arcliilettura nniversale, Venice, 1615, Part I, Bk. Ill, ch. 11, p. 263. P : Courtauld Institute 195. Andrea Palladio. Villa Garzadore, in / quattro libri . . ., Bk. II, ch. 17, p. 77. P: Avery Architectural Library 196. Andrea Palladio. Palazzo Thiene in Vicenza, in / quattro libri . . ., Bk. II, ch. 3, p. 14. p: Avery Architectural Library 197. Copy after Poussin. An Artist's Studio. Drawing. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad 198. After Baccio Bandinelli. The Studio. Engraving by Agostino Veneziano, 1531. P : Albertina, Vienna 199. After Johannes Stradanus. The Academy of Fine Arts. Engraving by Cornells Cort, 1578. Courtesy the Trustees of the British Museum, P : John R. Freeman

xxi

217 228 228 228 228 229 230 231

232 233 233 234 234 235 236 236 237 237 238 238 238 238 239 240 240 241

LIST OF

ILLUSTRATIONS

200. Reconstruction model of stage showing how Poussin set out his figures. P: Department of Photography, King's College, Newcastle (Copyright reserved) 201. Reconstruction model of stage on which Poussin set out his figures, P: Department of Photography, King's College, Newcastle (Copyright reserved) 202. Poussin. Drazuing for "Baptism." Hermitage Museum, Leningrad 203. Poussin. Drazving for ''Baptism" Gabinetto Disegni e Stampe, Uffizi, Florence 204. Poussin. Drawing for ''Baptism" Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Josse Lalance 205. Poussin. Drazving for "Baptism." Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Josse Lalance 206. Raphael. Vision of Ezekiel. Palazzo Pitti, Florence, P: Alinari 207. Domenichino. The Ecstasy of St. Paid. Louvre, Paris, P: Agraci 208. Poussin. Drazving for "Eucharist." Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Josse Lalance 209. Perugino. Christ Giving the Keys to St. Peter. Sistine Chapel, The Vatican, P: Anderson 210. After Raphael. The Massacre of the Innocents. Engraving by Marcantonio Raimondi. Courtesy the Trustees of the British Museum, P: John R. Freeman 211. Poussin. Drawing for "Judgment of Solomon.9' Ecole des Beaux-Arts, Paris, P: Giraudon 212. Jacques Callot. Pilate Washing His Hands. Engraving in La grande Passion, P: Bibliotheque Nationale 213. Poussin. Drawing for a Bacchanal. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle, P: John R. Freeman 214. Poussin. Drazving for a Bacchanal. Musee Conde, Chantilly. P: Giraudon 215. Raphael. Madonna of the Fish. Prado, Madrid, P: Anderson 216. Francois Duquesnoy. Funerary monument to Ferdinand van der Eynden. 1630. Santa Maria deirAnima, Rome, P: GFN 217. Raphael. Madonna of Foligno. Pinacoteca, The Vatican, P: Anderson 218. Annibale Carracci. The Madonna Protecting the City of Bologna. Christ Church, Oxford. Courtesy the Governing Body of Christ Church, Oxford 219. Poussin. St. Mary of Egypt and St. Zosimus. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 220. Watercolor drawing of a Roman fresco formerly in the Barberini Collection. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 221. Domenichino. Hercules and Achelous. Louvre, Paris, P: Villani 222. Domenichino. Landscape zvith a Castle. Collection Denis Mahon, London, P: Villani 223. Annibale Carracci. The Flight into Egypt. Galleria Doria-Pamphili, Rome, P: Villani 224. Annibale Carracci. The Concert. Louvre, Paris, P: Agraci 225. Giovanni Bellini. The Transfiguration. Galleria Nazionale, Naples, P: Alinari 226. Domenico Campagnola. Shepherds in a Landscape. Engraving. Courtesy the Trustees of the British Museum, P: John R. Freeman 227. Polidoro da Caravaggio. Christ Appearing to Mary Magdalen. San Silvestro al Quirinale, Rome, P: GFN 228. Polidoro da Caravaggio. The Mystic Marriage of St. Catherine. San Silvestro al Quirinale, Rome, P: GFN 229. Roman Painting. Landscape fresco from the Villa dei Quintile (Via Appia). Villa Albani, Rome, P: Alinari 230. Attributed to Polidoro da Caravaggio. Landscape with Hermitage. Drawing. The British Museum, London, P: John R. Freeman 231. Poussin. Viezv near Villenenve-les-Avignon. Drawing. Musee Conde, Chantilly. P: Giraudon 232. Annibale Carracci. Landscape with Three Figures. Drawing. Ashmolean Museum, Oxford XXI1

243 243 244 245 246 246 249 249 254 255 256 258 259 261 262 264 265 269 269 271 272 274 275 275 276 277 277 278 278 279 280 281 281

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 233. 234. 235. 236. 237. 238. 239. 240.

Bartholomeus Breenbergh. Ripa Grande. Drawing. Albertina, Vienna 282 Poussin. Five Trees. Drawing. Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris. P: Josse Lalance 282 Poussin. The Arch of the Goldsmiths. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 283 Cornelis van Poelenburg. The Arch of the Goldsmiths. Drawing. Albertina, Vienna 283 Poussin. Tiber Valley. Drawing. Holkham Hall, Norfolk, P: Courtauld Institute 284 Poussin. Classical Landscape with Figures. Drawing. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad 284 Poussin. The Aventine. Drawing. Gabinetto Disegni e Stampe, Uffizi, Florence 285 Attributed to Pieter Bruegel the Elder. View of Fondi. Drawing. Permanent Collection, Fine Arts Society of San Diego 289 241. Castello Baronale, Fondi. P: GFN 289 242. Poussin. Drawing for "Landscape with a Man Killed by a Snake." Musee de Dijon 298 243. Poussin. Drazving for "Landscape with a Man Killed by a Snake." Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Josse Lalance 298 244. Sebastiano del Piombo. Pieta. Museo Comunale, Viterbo. P: GFN 303 245. Pietro da Cortona. Reconstruction Drazving of the Temple of Fortuna at Paleslrina. Victoria and Alberta Museum, London (Crown copyright) 305 246. Poussin. Drawing for "Achilles Among the Daughters of Lycomedes." Hermitage Museum, Leningrad 305 247. Gianlorenzo Bernini. The Ecstasy of St. Theresa. Santa Maria della Vittoria, Rome. P: Anderson 307 248. Annibale Carracci. Christ and the Woman of Samaria. Brera, Milan 308 249. Annibale Carracci. Christ and the Woman of Samaria. Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna, P: Alinari 308 250a-c. Details of a watercolor copy of a Roman mosaic from the Temple of Fortuna at Palestrina made for Cassiano dal Pozzo. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 310-11 251. Poussin. The Birth of Bacchus. Drawing. Fogg Art Museum, Harvard University (Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Donald Stralem) 318 252. Poussin. The Rape of Europa. Drawing. Nationalmuseum, Stockholm 319 253. Poussin. Venus at the Fountain. Drawing. Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Giraudon 321 254. Poussin. Putti Playing. Drawing. Accademia, Venice 322 255. Poussin. Putti Playing. Drawing. Gabinetto Nazionale, Rome 322 256. Attributed to Antoine Bouzonnet Stella. Putti Playing. Present whereabouts unknown, P: Courtesy Courtauld Institute 323 257. After Jacques Stella. Putti Playing, engraving by Claudine Bouzonnet Stella in Les Jeux et de I'enfance, 1657. Courtesy the Trustees of the British Museum, P: John R. Freeman 324 258. Michelangelo. Bacchanal of Putti. Drawing. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle 325 259. Unknown Artist. Portrait of Tommaso Campanella. Schloss Weissenstein, Pommersfelden. P: Foto Marburg-Art Reference Library, Ancram, New York 329 260. Title page to Tommaso Campanella's De sensu rernm. P: Courtauld Institute 329 261. Poussin. Mercury, Paris, and Cupid. Drawing. Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris. P: Josse Lalance 339 262. Poussin. Apollo and Daphne. Drawing. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad 339 263. Poussin. Apollo and Daphne. Drawing. Musee Conde, Chantilly. P: Giraudon 340 264. Poussin. Apollo and Daphne. Drawing. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad 340 265. Poussin. Nymphs Spied Upon by Satyrs. Drawing. Ecole des Beaux-Arts, Paris, P: Agraci 341 xxi n

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 266. Poussin. Apollo and Daphne. Drawing. Biblioteca Reale, Turin 267. After Nicolas Poussin. Apollo Sanroctonos. Drawing. Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Josse Lalance 268. Poussin. Apollo and Daphne. Drawing. Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris, P: Giraudon 269. Hellenistic Sculpture. Apollo. Museo Nazionale, Naples, P: Alinari 270. Hellenistic Coin. Europa. Coin of Gortyna, 4th century B.C. Engraving m H. Goltzius, Nnmismata greciae nniversae, Antwerp, 1644. P: Courtauld Institute 271. Poussin. Apollo and Daphne. Drawing. Gabinetto Disegni e Stampe, Uffizi, Florence, P: Gabinetto Fotografico della Sopriiiteiideiiza alle Gallerie. Florence

The works of art in the royal collections are reproduced through the gracious permission of Her Majesty. Queen Elizabeth II.

XXIV

342 343 344 344 344 345

NICOLAS POUSSIN

I Poussin's Youth in France (1594-1624)

I

N THE YEAR 1782 Seroux d'Agincourt, a learned art historian and a great admirer of Nicolas Poussin, was shocked to find that there was no monument of any kind to the artist in Rome. After

some hesitation he decided that it would be appropriate to erect one in the Pantheon, which already contained the ashes of Raphael and Annibale Carracci. He commissioned a bust from Andrea Segla, a sculptor then popular but now forgotten, and proposed to inscribe below it the words Pictori philosopho, "to the Painter-Philosopher." He discovered, however, that these words had recently been applied, most unsuitably, to the German artist Anton Raphael Mengs, whose only claim to be a philosophical painter was that he believed, without much reason, that his compositions embodied the ideas of his compatriot and friend Winckelmann. In the end Seroux d'Agincourt fell back on the colorless inscription Pictori gallo;1 but the epithet Pictor philosophus stuck to Poussin — more than it did to Mengs — and became a recurrent theme in the innumerable poems and prose panegyrics written in honor of the artist during the first half of the nineteenth century by painters with a taste for literature and laymen with an enthusiasm for the arts. In France, Poussin long remained the peintrc des gens d'esprit, but in other countries — and recently in France also — this aspect of his art has been pushed more and more into the background, and he has been admired above all as one of the great masters of formal design. This change of attitude is in part the reflection of developments in the arts, particularly of the movement toward a more abstract conception of painting both in practice and theory since the middle of the nineteenth century. For Ingres, for instance, Poussin was a model of classical composition, surpassed only by Raphael and the Antique; Degas saw in him "purity of drawing, breadth of modeling, and grandeur of composition"; Cezanne aimed at revivifying Poussin's formal perfection by a renewed contact with nature; and the early Cubists saw in him the near-abstract qualities which they themselves sought. 1. For an account of Seroux d'Agincourt's scheme, see his letter to M. Castellan, p. 147. [Works that mention Poussin are cited in brief form in the footnotes; for full refer-

ences, see the Bibliography and list of Abbreviations (pp. 383fT). Works that do not mention Poussin are cited fully in the footnotes.]

NICOLAS POUSSIN An extreme statement of this approach to the art of Poussin is to be found in Roger Fry's analysis of a painting, now in the Louvre, representing Achilles discovered among the daughters of Lycomedes. He describes his reactions to the picture in the order in which they happen to him: "First the curious impression of the receding rectangular hollow of the hall seen in perspective [strikes one]. . . . Next, I find, the four dark rectangular openings at the end of the hall impose themselves and are instantly and agreeably related to the two dark masses of the chamber wall. . . . So far all our interests have been purely plastic. What the picture is about has not even suggested itself. . . . But at whatever stage we do [inquire] we are not likely to get much for our pains. . . . Decidedly the psychological complex is of the meagrest, least satisfactory, kind, and the imagination turns from it, if not with disgust, at least with relief at having done with so boring a performance. We return to the contemplation of the plasticity with the conviction that our temporary excursion into the realm of psychology has led us nowhere. . . . As far as I can discover . . . the story of Achilles was merely a pretext for a purely plastic construction." But in fairness to Fry, it must be added that in the middle of this last sentence he inserts the words, '"whatever Poussin may have thought of the matter — and I suspect he would have been speechless with indignation at my analysis."2 I am afraid he would. The principal purpose of this book is to put forward an exactly contrary view of Poussin as an artist, and to revive and develop the conception of him as pictor philosophies. Put quite bluntly, I believe that in creating his paintings Poussin was primarily inspired by a desire to give visible expression to certain ideas which, while not deserving the name of a philosophy in any technical sense, represent a carefully thought-out view of ethics, a consistent attitude to religion, and, toward the end of his life, a complex, almost mystical conception of the universe. These views can be deduced from a study of the paintings themselves, but their existence in Poussin's mind can be confirmed by the evidence of his letters and of his opinions as recorded by his early biographers. It has often been pointed out that many of the paintings that date from Poussin's middle period deal with themes taken from Stoic historians, but one can go further. His letters contain so many phrases directly taken from Stoic writers that it is fair to conclude not only that he was well versed in their ideas but that he regarded Stoicism as providing a guide to the conduct of his life. Naturally, Stoicism would not account for the depth of feeling apparent in Poussin's religious compositions, but it can be shown that he was interested in the doctrines of certain early Fathers who evolved a synthesis of Christian theology and Stoicism. Further, the conception of man's relation to nature as set forth by the Stoics can explain much that is puzzling in Poussin's great landscape paintings of his classical phase; and finally, Stoical ideas lie behind those magnificent 2. Transformations, pp. 18fF. The fact that Roger Fry had the bad luck to select for his analysis a painting which is now universally dismissed as not being by Poussin himself but by an imitator does not really aflect the significance of the passage as an example of the "pure form"

approach to Poussin's painting, for elsewhere he writes of well-established works by Poussin in terms which, though less explicit, imply the same attitude, which was, of course, widely accepted in Fry's time and is still accepted by many today.

POUSSIN'S YOUTH IN FRANCE (1594-1624) late works in which Orion and Bacchus and Apollo play the principal roles, no longer like the amorous gods of Ovid, but clearly as symbols of some eternal truth; for they seem to be based on the ideas of late Stoic writers like Macrobius, who saved the tottering myths of Greece and Rome by converting them into allegories illustrating the nature of the universe. This may seem an ambitious program, and I am well aware that in putting forward this view of Poussin — or, indeed, of any artist — I am running counter to many deeply ingrained beliefs, but I would ask the reader to bear with me patiently and not to condemn my argument till he has followed it through to the end. If it has any validity, this depends on the fact that it presents — or so I believe — a consistent view of the artist which can explain the development of his thought throughout the whole of his career, except the early experimental years, before he had found his real bent as an artist. There is, of course, nothing new in the idea that paintings are made to express general ideas. It is true of all religious art, whether Christian or otherwise, but there are distinctions to be drawn. In the Middle Ages, for instance, the artist was expressing a belief held by more or less every member of the society for which he worked, and although no doubt he accepted these beliefs himself, he certainly did not think them out personally but took them for granted, possibly with no tremendous enthusiasm. His real concern was to make the painting or statue he was producing as beautiful as it could be technically, and as suitable as possible to its function as a religious image. The artists of the early Renaissance were much more consciously intellectual, but they cannot properly be called philosophers, because their interests lay more in mathematics and in the science of perspective than in ethics or metaphysics. Even Leonardo, whose range of knowledge was as great as any man's in his day, hardly touches on philosophical subjects in his voluminous notes. The scientific study of nature absorbed his whole energy. Many paintings of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries embody ideas derived from NeoPlatonism, but it is very doubtful whether the artists who executed them — Botticelli and Titian, for instance — were well versed in the philosophy that they expressed, and in almost every case the program was dictated either by the patron — a Medici or an Este — or by a learned specialist in humanist studies attached to his court. It may even be questioned how far Raphael was consciously concerned with the ideas set forth so nobly in the Stanza della Segnatura, that monument to the fusion of Christianity and Platonism. One exception in the sixteenth century jumps to the mind: Michelangelo. His poems prove beyond any doubt that he was well read in Christian and Neo-Platonic ideas and that he felt deeply about them, but it would still not be true to say that this was the prime impulse that led him to create. This impulse came from a passionate apprehension of the beauty of the human form — a beauty that was, of course, as the Neo-Platonists maintained, a symbol of a higher beauty. When we come to Poussin's contemporaries, they include, of course, men of great learning.

NICOLAS POUSSIN Rubens, for instance, was a good classical scholar and an expert archaeologist, but these were only minor elements in his make-up. Bernini was a devout, even an enthusiastic Roman Catholic, and his piety is certainly reflected in his great religious works, but he could not by any stretch of imagination be called a philosopher. Generally speaking, indeed, seventeenth-century artists were not given to speculation on philosophical subjects — even on aesthetics, for it is a well-known fact that far fewer treatises on the arts were produced in this century than in either the sixteenth or the eighteenth. One artist might at first sight seem to provide an analogy with Poussin from this point of view: William Blake. With him it is certainly true that his philosophical and religious beliefs formed the starting point of his creation, but the analogy would not be fair, because Blake, though in many respects a great artist, was more a poet than a painter, and although he invented a visual means of expression that was adequate to his needs, his grasp of formal composition was in many ways rudimentary. Moreover, intense though his passion was, he was inhibited by his sense of being in a minority, almost a persecuted minority. In this respect Poussin was lucky. His philosophical approach to the arts cut him off from the main stream of Baroque art developing around him in Rome, but he lived among and worked for a body of men whose beliefs he shared and who formed one of the most remarkable and enlightened groups of intellectuals of the time. He had, therefore, exactly the kind of intellectual support that is necessary if the artist is to be saved from eccentricity and is to attain that balance and universality which are essential characteristics of great art. If it seems that this book deals too much with the ideas in Poussin's mind and too little with the formal qualities of the paintings themselves, it is because the content of the paintings has been so little understood that it needs detailed study, and because I believe that the ideas in Poussin's mind conditioned the formal solutions that he sought. Let me say once and for all that I believe Poussin to be one of the supreme masters of formal design and, when he wishes, as exquisite a colonst as one could imagine. Poussin's approach to his art was basically intellectual. As his biographer Andre Felibien says, "He was not content with knowing things by means of the senses, or founding his knowledge on the example of the great masters. He particularly applied himself to discovering the reasons for the different beauties that are to be found in works of art, being persuaded that a craftsman cannot attain the perfection he seeks unless he knows the means of achieving it and the mistakes into which he may fall."3 Few artists of Poussin's importance had so little natural talent or such unsatisfactory training; few were so late in finding their real bent and attaining any kind of maturity. The obvious parallel is Cezanne, who, like Poussin, was lacking in natural facility and unable to obtain satisfactory training in his youth. Like Poussin, he floundered for many years trying his hand at various styles, and, like Poussin, had he died at the age of thirty-five, his name would hardly have been recorded in 3. IV, p. 15. 6

POUSSIN'S YOUTH IN FRANCE (1594-1624) the annals of art history. The parallel may be pursued further; in both cases it was by qualities that seem moral rather than aesthetic — single-mindedness, integrity, and pertinacity — that the two artists were able to achieve their ultimate triumphs, and a hermitlike detachment from the world helped both to attain not so much success as satisfaction of their inner conscience. It is not chance that Cezanne should have so profoundly admired Poussin, for they were of the same artistic family. The strangeness of Poussin's approach becomes the more apparent if we compare him with his contemporaries. In an age of virtuosi he was a plodder; at a time when artists were competent in many fields, he confined himself to painting alone; in a school that specialized in painting altarpieces for public view or in decorating the vast ceilings of Baroque churches and palaces, he preferred to execute small canvases for the cabinets of his friends. Bernini was a sculptor, an architect, and a painter; before he was thirty he had invented a new style that revolutionized sculpture and architecture and influenced his successors for a century and a half; he was the favorite architect of the pope, and a friend of everyone of importance in the court of Rome. By the same age, Rubens was a leading figure in European art; he was the chosen envoy of princes for their most delicate diplomatic missions; he could paint portraits or religious and allegorical compositions; he could decorate a ceiling, design a title page for a book, or plan a triumphal entry. To these artists, in short, everything came easily, and they could turn their hand to any job. With Poussin it was the exact opposite. His earliest surviving works show that at the age of thirty he had hardly attained the skill that would have been expected from a youth of eighteen in the academic studios of Rome or Bologna. His first years in Rome show a widening range, but he remained hesitant in execution and undecided about the line that he was to follow. It was not till he was thirty-five that Poussin found his true vocation, and this he was to pursue, with patience and intensity, for the rest of his life. He deliberately rejected all those factitious methods employed by his Baroque contemporaries and, standing aside from the main stream of official art in Rome, developed a form of classicism that was to be a model for later generations. Whereas his contemporaries sought effects which would strike the spectator instantaneously and draw him into the work, Poussin used understatement and simplicity, and aimed at producing paintings which should be completely self-contained and exist in their own right. Whereas they wished to arouse astonishment, his aim was a calm satisfaction. They worked in terms of emotion, he in terms of reason. It would be wrong, however, to conclude that, because Poussin relied principally on reason, his works were cold or unimaginative. His pursuit of a rational form of art was so passionate that it led him in his later years to a beauty beyond reason; his desire to contain emotion within its strictest limits caused him to express it in its most concentrated form; his determination to efface himself, and to seek nothing but the form perfectly appropriate to his theme, led him to create paintings which, though impersonal, are also deeply emotional and, though rational in their principles, are almost mystical in the impression that they convey.

1. Carved reliefs on the organ in Notre-Dame, Le Grand Andely. Mid 16th century

NICOLAS POUSSIN

was born in 15944 in or near the market town of Les Andelvs on the Seine, some

twenty-five miles above Rouen.5 His first biographer, Giovanni Pietro Bellori, states that he came of a noble family ruined in the wars of religion.6 There may be some truth in this claim, to the extent that the artist's father, Jean Poussin, who came from Soissons, seems to have had relatives living in that town who held offices of some importance, so that he might claim to belong to the noblesse de robe, the hierarchy into which the successful bourgeoisie organized itself in the later Middle Ages. But the artist's connection through his father was with a very minor form of this noblesse; and through his mother he seems to have come of the same stock, since she was the daughter of an alderman of the little Norman town of Vernon and the widow of a minor legal official of the same place. In any case, Poussin's upbringing was simple, for his father, after serving in the army under Charles IX, Henry III, and Henry IV, had bought what must have been quite a small holding and apparently led the life of a peasant. The education available at Les Andelys was probably not 6. Bellori (pp. 407ff) gives a fairly detailed account of Poussin's childhood and youth, based on information supplied by the artist himself. It seems likely, however, that Poussin may have given a slightly rose-tinted version of the story. It is not without significance, for instance, that Felibien (IV, pp. 3f) more or less openly challenges the story of the artist's noble ancestry on which Bellori had laid such stress (just as Condivi had emphasized a similar story with regard to Michelangelo).

4. There is no actual record of the birth or christening, but the evidence points almost conclusively to 1594: see Sterling, in Exposition Poussin (Louvre), p. 202, who gives an admirable summary of the facts known about Poussin's early life. 5. According to a tradition that does not appear to go back beyond the nineteenth century, his birthplace was the hamlet of Villers, a mile or two outside and above Les Andelys.

8

POUSSIN'S YOUTH IN FRANCE (1594-1624) very elaborate, but Poussin's early biographers tell us that he learned Latin as a child and was given a grounding in letters.7 Much play has been made with the supposed influence of Poussin's childhood memories of the Seine valley, and resemblances with it have been seen in his later landscapes, painted when he had been established in Rome for twenty-five years. In fact, no direct connection can be proved, and it is doubtful if one can say more than that Poussin could not have failed to be attracted by the cool and clear light of this particularly beautiful stretch of country, just as Corot, Theodore Rousseau, Monet, and Pissarro were to be inspired by it two centuries later. If Poussin spent his childhood in Les Andelys and its immediate neighborhood, he would not have been able to see many works of art of a kind likely to catch his eye; but the parish church of Le Grand Andely, the larger of the two villages that make up the complex of Les Andelys, is an unusually fine late Gothic building, begun in the thirteenth century but still not quite finished in Poussin's time. Its architecture no doubt impressed him at this time, but he probably studied with even greater interest the stained glass and the carved panels on the organ case (fig. 1), both of which are fine examples of Norman art of the sixteenth century as it was revivified by the introduction of Italian artists soon after 1500. The school established by Cardinal Georges d'Amboise, first minister to Louis XII, at Rouen and at his castle of Gaillon became the center of one the richest movements in sixteenth-century French art, which spread over the whole of the province and produced some of its best work in the Seine valley. Although both the glass and the sculpture in the church of Le Grand Andely would have seemed "Gothic" to Poussin if he returned to his native town on his short visit to France in the years of 1640-42, in his childhood they would certainly have seemed models of what works of art might be — and, indeed, they did represent the last great moment in French art before the revival of the seventeenth century, which he was himself to lead. Poussin's interest in the arts was directed into a precise channel by a chance occurrence, the visit of a painter named Quentin Varin, who in 1612 came to Les Andelys to execute three canvases for the church of Le Grand Andely, where they still hang (figs. 2—4). Little is known of the career of this artist, who would hardly be remembered at all if he had not given Poussin his first instruction in the art of painting. He was born in Beauvais, probably a little after 1580, and in 1597 was apprenticed at Avignon to a painter called Pierre Duplan, 8 though we do not know why he had moved so far south in the interval. By 1607 he was back in the North and settled at Amiens, where his marriage is recorded in that year.9 He continued living in that 7. Mancini (I, p. 261) states specifically that he learned Latin and gained a knowledge of (classical) history and legend ("per l'erudition litterale e capace di qualsivoglia historia, favola o poesia"). Freart de Chambray (Idee, p. 132) talks of 'Tavantage extraordinaire qu'il a eu d'avoir estudie aux lettres humaines avant que de prendre le pinceau." 8. Abbe Requin, "Notes biographiques sur Quentin Wa-

rin," RSBAD, XII, 1888, p. 340. I am indebted for this reference and for many others on French artists of the early seventeenth century to the unpublished thesis of Mr. Hamish Miles, and I should like to express my gratitude to him for allowing me free use of the invaluable documentary material contained in it. 9. Henri Stein, 'rLe Contrat de mariage de Quentin Warin," RAFAM, V, 1889, pp. 130f.

2. Quentin Varin. The Martyrdom of St. Vincent 1612. Notre-Dame, Le Grand Andely

3. Quentin Varin. The Martyrdom of St. Clams 1612. Notre-Dame, Le Grand Andely

town and working in the north of France till 1615, but in the next year he is recorded as a master painter in Paris. 10 In the years 1623-25 he is mentioned with the title pcintre ordinaire du roi;11 he died before 1627.12 No works by Varin survive which can be certainly dated before his visit to Les Andelys, but the ruined Rock of the Pliilosoplicrs in the Rouen museum (fig. 5 ) 1 3 is still in the manner of late sixteenth-century painters like Antoine Caron, and therefore probably dates from the very early years of the century; the Flagellation in the cathedral at Beauvais is so much less accomplished than the canvases at Les Andelys that it must have been executed some years before them. The three paintings of which Poussin must have watched the execution — to which he may even in some minute way actually have contributed — show a skillful if uninspired artist working in the eclectic style current in France at about this time. 14 Basically, they reflect the late Mannerism of a 12. Cf. Robert Guerlin. "Notice sur les broderies executees par les religieuses Ursulines cTAmiens," RSBAD, XV, 1891. p. 300. 13. Yvonne Pruvost, "Un Tableau de Quentin Varin au Musee des Beaux-Arts de Rouen." Mnsccs de France. April 1949, pp. 68fl: and Otto Kurz. "Recent Research," BM, XCII, 1950, p. 239. 14. The Martyrdom of St. Vincent and the Regina Coeli are dated 1612; the Martyrdom of St. Clams was no doubt painted in the same year.

10. He is recorded in Amiens in 1609. 1611, 1613. and 1615: cf. ibid., p. 132: idem. "Le Lien de naissance de Quentin Warin." XAAF. 1899. pp. 189f: and Kmilc Delignieres. "Notes complementaires sur Quentin Varin pcintre picard (vers 1580-1627).*" RSBAD. XXVII. 1903. p. 262. 1 1. Cf. Ph. de Chennevieres. "Quentin Warin, L. Finsonius. J. Daret. R. Levieux. J. de Saint-Igny. Letellier," XAAF, III, 1887. p. 39: and Jules GuifFrey. "Liste alphabetique des artistes et artisans employes a rcmbcllisscmcnt et a rentreticn des chateaux royaux," XAAF, I, 1872, p. 53.

10

5. Quentin Varin. The Rock of the Philosophers Musce des Beaux-Arts. Rouen

4. Quentin Varin. Regina Coeli. 1612 Notre-Dame, Le Grand Andely

painter like Ambroise Dubois. whose work, which Varin would presumably have seen in Paris and at Fontainebleau, combined Flemish and Italian elements. The particular form of ecstasy seen in the two martyrs, the acid tones with a free use of shot colors, and certain tricks, such as the halflength figures leaning out of the picture frame in the Martyrdom of St. Vincent, all derive from Italian Mannerism and could be paralleled in Roman painting from Taddeo Zuccaro to the Cavaliere d'Arpino, on whose Immacnlata. at Dresden, Varin's Regina Coeli is based. On the other hand, the landscapes and certain types, such as the executioner in the St. Vincent, are more Northern in their naturalism; the landscapes are Flemish in type: and the method of introducing scenes from the saints' lives in small ovals illusionistically painted as if on canvases propped up against the central composition derives from Flanders.15 No trace of influence from Varin's style as shown in these paintings can be seen in Poussin's surviving works — unless the bridge at the back of the Chantelou Ordination, painted in 1647 (pi. 158), is a reminiscence of the St. Vincent; but it is more than likely that the lost paintings of his early years owed much to these paintings, the first modern works that Poussin ever saw. 15. It is found, for instance, in the Madonna of the Seven Sorrows by Pieter Pourbus the Elder, in St.-Jacques at Bruges.

li

6. Quentin Varin. St. Charles Borromeo Giving Alms St.-Etienne-tlu-Mont. Paris

7. Quentin Varin. The Entombment. Louvre, Paris

The two artists may also have been in touch after they both reached Paris, for there are certain features in Varin's later works which seem to have affected Poussin. The foreshortened baby in the foreground of Varin's St. Charles Borromeo (fig. 6), for instance, recurs in Poussin's preliminary drawing for the Massacre of the Innocents (fig. 83), executed a few years after his arrival in Rome; and the metal bowl in the Louvre Entombment (fig. 7) might almost be the origin of Poussin's brilliant handling of such motives in the paintings of the later twenties and early thirties, such as the Munich Lamentation over the Dead Christ (pi. 50). 1 6 brought to Paris by painters like Georges Lallemand. It was therefore probably executed after Varin's move to Paris in 1616. One other work can be dated to the artist's Paris period: the Presentation given to the Carmes dechausses by Anne of Austria in 1624 and recently reinstalled in their church, now St.-Joseph-des-Carmes (cf. Yvonne Pruvost, rfUn Tableau de Quentin Varin: La Presentation an temple," RA, IX, 1959, p. 47).

16. Neither of these two paintings by Varin is dated, hut the St. Charles Borromeo (now in St.-Etienne-du-Mont) was presented to St.-Jacques-de-la-Boucherie in 1627 by Varin's executors in fulfillment of a vow made by the artist, and was therefore probably a late work. It is mentioned by Dezallier d'Argenville (Voyage, p. 33) and by Piganiol de La Force (Description tie Paris, II, p. 120). The Entombmeyit shows the type of heads with windswept or tressed hair invented by Jacques Bellange and

12

POUSSIN'S YOUTH IN FRANCE (1594-1624) According to Bellori, the effect of Varin's visit to Les Andelys on Poussin was so strong that he left home the same year and made his way to Paris. The biographer adds that he crept secretly out of the house, without the knowledge of his parents, but this detail smacks too much of the legends traditional in the biographies of artists to be taken very seriously. It is possible that the youth went first to Rouen, the nearest big city and the capital of the province, for a tradition that goes back to the early eighteenth century has it that Noel Jouvenet, grandfather of Jean Jouvenet, "taught him the first elements of drawing," and the Jouvenet family at that time lived in Rouen.1'' If he did visit Rouen, it was probably not for a long period, and we may suppose that he arrived in Paris in 1612 or, at the latest, in 1613. Only the scantiest information is available about the years between his arrival in Paris and his final departure for Rome in 1624, and it is not even possible to determine how much of the period was spent in Paris and how much in traveling round the provinces. Bellori tells us that soon after his arrival in the capital he made the acquaintance of a young gentleman from Poitou, who seems to have treated him with great kindness, giving him lodging in his house in Paris and taking him with him when he returned to his own province. There he set him to decorate his chateau, but owing to the interference of an officious mother the scheme had to be abandoned, and the young artist found himself without money and three hundred miles from Paris. According to Bellori, he walked the whole distance back, supporting himself by occasional commissions to paint pictures in towns through which he passed. When he arrived in Paris he was so exhausted and ill that he returned to Les Andelys, where he spent a year recovering his health. On his journey back from Poitou to Paris, he is said to have executed two paintings for the Capuchin church at Blois1^ and some Bacchanals for the chateau of Cheverny,19 but these works are now lost. There is, however, probably some trace of the work executed for the young Poitevin gentleman. In 1899 the Abbe Tenaud called attention to the existence of a painted gallery in the chateau of Mornay, between Niort and St.-Jean-d'Angely, which, though in Saintonge, is only a few miles over the border of Poitou.20 The gallery, which was completely covered with painted decoration, bore an inscription: "Nicolas Poussin pinxit anno 1614." The Abbe immediately identified it as the work begun, but left unfinished, by the youthful Poussin. His thesis was accepted by some critics and challenged by others, till Otto Grautoff pointed out that the painting in the gallery which seemed to fit best with the date of 1614, the Diana and Actacon (pi. 1), was a copy after a composi17. Mcmoircs inedits, II, p. 23. Some idea of painting in Rouen at this date can be got from the Christ Driving the Traders Out of the Temple in St.-Patrice (cf. Blunt, "Poussin and His Circle," pp. 352f). 18. Cf. Felibien, IV, p. 7, and Perrault, I, p. 89. A document of 1795 identifies the subject of one as the Descent from the Cross (NAAF, II, 1873, p. 314). Jean Bernier in his Histoire de Blois (p. 67) says that Poussin designed some stained-glass windows for the church of the Capuchins at Blois on the occasion of his visit, but his evi-

13

deuce cannot carry much weight, since he also states that the Order did not obtain possession of the church until 1623, long after Poussin had passed through the town. 19. Ibid., p. 89, and Felibien, loc. cit.: cf. also Felibien, III, p. 65. Piganiol de La Force (Description de la France, X, p. 321) states that the Bacchanals were in a pavilion near the chateau and were already much damaged. 20. See his article in Gaulois du Dimanche. The gallery is also mentioned and reproduced in Hautecoeur, I, pp. 836f.

8. After Josef Heintz. Diana and Aclaeon. Engraving by Aegidius Sadeler

9. Frencli School. Diana and Aclaeon, Late 16th century. Musees Nationaiix, France

10. Poussin. Detail of Diana and Aclacon. 1614. Private collection. Paris

tion by Josef Heintz, engraved by Aegidius Sadeler (fig. 8). 2 1 Most writers accepted this as proof that the painting was not by Poussin, on the grounds that the great French artist could never have degraded himself so far as to copy a design by a feeble German painter. This argument is, however, illogical, and there is nothing strange in the idea of Poussin copying such a model, for at the time Poussin was a struggling artist of twenty and Heintz, who had died in 1609, had been the favorite painter of Emperor Rudolph II, and his works were much copied and were known throughout Europe through engravings.22 It might well have happened that his patron had seen engravings of the painting in Paris and ordered his young painter friend to make an enlarged version of it as the nucleus of the decoration he planned for his gallery. The painting has suffered badly, partly in a fire which damaged the chateau in 1947, and it is therefore unwise to speak too categorically of its stylistic qualities, but, as Jacques Dupont has pointed out, the copyist modified the original in the sense of French canons of the sixteenth cenchel de Marollcs' 'I em[)le des muses, published in 1640. It cannot, therefore, have been a painting by Poussin dating from 1614. 22. The composition must have been known in Paris before 1622, because it was used for one of the illustrations to the translation of Ovid published there by the veuve Guillemot in 1622. Oddly enough, the engraver adapted it to the plate illustrating the Deluge in the first book of the poem by simply omitting the dogs which accompany Actaeon.

21. The arguments for and against the authenticity of this canvas are set out in detail by Dupont (ffLa Diane surprise par Acteon") and are also considered in Catalogue, entry No. 148. A second painting in the gallery at Mornay, destroyed by fire in 1947, was also attributed to Poussin by the Abbe Tenaud. It was then called ffDiana and Orion," but, as has been shown by Dupont, it actually represented Diana and Endymion. Dupont has further shown that it was taken from an engraving by Aegidius Sadeler after Abraham van Diepenbeeck, illustrating Mi-

15

NICOLAS POUSSIN tury. He did not imitate the knobby muscular formation of the nudes favored by Heintz, but made the forms simpler and less broken up. The result is a treatment of the nude that is close to late sixteenth-century French painting, for instance to a version of the same story formerly belonging to the Earl of Wemyss and given by him to the Musees Nationaux (fig. 9). There are even certain features in the Diana and Actacon which are similar to the drawings illustrating Ovid, which were made in 1623 for the Italian poet Giovanni Battista Marino (figs. 31-46), and are the only surviving works certainly by Poussin which date from before the end of his Paris period. In particular, the treatment of the landscape background is much more elementary than in the engraving after Heintz, and the trees with their strange little tufts of foliage growing straight from the trunk itself are a recurrent characteristic of the Marino drawings.23 The Diana and Actacon does no great credit to the youthful Poussin, but the evidence for accepting it as his earliest surviving work is too strong to be ignored. The sources are almost as inadequate in their information about Poussin's artistic training as about his life during his years in Paris. Bellori and Felibien both state that he studied for three months under Ferdinand Elle, the oldest of a family of portrait painters who were Flemish in origin but had settled in Paris.24 Elle's works are difficult to identify, but the portrait of Mme de Chatillon at Hampton Court (fig. 11), to which his name is given in the inventory of Charles I, may be taken as typical. From this it will be seen that he could have given Poussin little help along the path that he was later to follow. Poussin's first two biographers also say that he worked for about a month under another painter "de peu de talent," and this artist is named by Roger de Piles as Georges Lallemand.25 Even though Poussin stayed with him for only a short time, and evidently did not approve of his manner, it is worth pausing a moment to consider his work, because he was without doubt the most important and successful painter working in Paris at this time, and the members of his studio included at one time or another not only Poussin but Philippe de Champaigne and Laurent de La Hire. Richard Symonds, in the diary of his visit to Paris in 1649,26 mentions no less than eleven individual pictures by him in various churches, as well as two cycles, in the Feuillants and the Cimetiere des Innocents, and tapestries after his designs in Notre-Dame. Lallemand, born in Nancy, went to Paris about 1601, and was already a master painter in 1605.27 f j e

was

naturalized in 1616 and died in 1636. Almost nothing that he painted is now trace-

able except the portrait group of the prcvot dcs marcliands and the cchcvins (the Lord Mayor and 23. Tins characteristic is more clearly visible in the old photograph made before 1914, which is here reproduced in figure 10. 24. For the Elle family, see Georges Wildenstein, "Les Ferdinand Elle," GBA, 1957, II, pp. 225fF. 25. Abrege, p. 469. 26. Unpublished manuscript in the British Museum. 27. The facts about his life are set out by F.-G. Pariset in

"Documents sur Georges Lallemant emule de Jacques de Bellange," GBA, 1954, I, pp. 299fF: Robert Le Blant and F.-G. Pariset, "Documents sur Georges Lallemant," BSHAF. 1960, pp. 183ff; Mile Heriard-Dubreuil, "A propos d"un tableau execute par Philippe de Champaigne d'apres les dessins de Georges Lallemant," BSHAF, 1952, pp. 14(1.

16

11. Ferdinand Elle the Elder. Portrait of Mine tic CJuUillon Hampton Court Palace

aldermen) of the city of Paris, commissioned in 1611 (fig. 12). 28 The figures in the foreground are painted in the portrait style of the time, but the background shows the Virgin supported by angels, and two saints (Ste. Genevieve and a bishop) in niches. The corresponding picture for the year 1614 (fig. 13), the painter of which is unknown, shows the cchcvins kneeling in a chapel of rather simpler form before an altarpiece with a painted Adoration of the Magi, flanked by figures of St. Denis and another saint standing in niches. The Adoration, with its huge repoussoir figure of the king in a turban, is in many ways like Lallemand's composition of the subject, which is known from an engraving by Michel Dorigny,29

anc[ m a y

28. The mural paintings in St.-Nicolas-des-Champs have heen so much damaged and repainted that they give little idea of his manner (cf. Georges Wildenstein, "Georges Lallemant et l'eglise Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs," GBA, 1960, I, pp. 317ff).

perhaps be by him. 29. Reproduced in Charles Sterling, "Un Precurseur franc.ais de Rembrandt: Claude Vignon," GBA, 1934, II, p. 135. Another Adoration of the Magi, in the Lille museum, has also been attributed to Lallemand on the grounds of its similarity to this engraving (cf. Sterling, La Peintnre francaise, fig. 7 ) .

17

12. Georges Lallemand. The Prevot des Marehands and the Kchevins of the City of Paris 1611. Musee Carnavalet, Paris

13. French School. The Prevot des Marehands and the Eehevins of the City of Paris 1614. Musee Carnavalet. Paris

14. After Georges Lallemand. The Procuress. Chiaroscuro woodcut by Ludolf Biisinck

The standing figure of the king in both the painting and the engraving shows strongly the influence of Jacques Bellange, the artist who dominated Nancy at the time when Lallemand was a young student there. This influence is even more clearly visible in Lallemand's smaller compositions, whether of genre scenes or of religious subjects, which are known from the fine chiaroscuro woodcuts made after them by Ludolf Biisinck (fig. 14) .^^ Poussin's disapproval of Lallemand's art, as recorded by Bellori, is not in any way surprising, for it represents everything that he was to react against when he reached Rome and developed his mature style. Nevertheless, there may be yet another trace of hindsight in Poussin's condemnation of his master, for it is hard to believe that he was not in some way influenced by the style that was most popular in Paris at the time. In seeking for the lost works of this phase, we must bear in mind that they will probably not look very like the artist's paintings of his Roman period, and perhaps even not like the Marino drawings, and they may show more of the influence of contemporary French Mannerism than Poussin in his old age cared to remember.^1 If Poussin was dissatisfied with the masters under whom he worked, it is legitimate to try to see whether he was more likely to find what he sought in the work of other painters active in Paris at the time. Roughly speaking, Parisian art of these years, that is to say, the early years of Marie 30. These have been studied and catalogued by Wolfgang Stechovv in Print Collectors Quarterly, XXV, 1938. pp. 393ff; XXVI, 1939, pp. 34911.

31. On this point, cf. Blunt. "Poussin and His Circle," p. 353.

19

NICOLAS POUSSIN de Medicis' regency, may be divided into two sections: works executed for the court, and paintings for the churches, corporations, and rich individuals of the city of Paris. The artists working for the court belonged to what is called, with a certain amount of reason, the Second School of Fontainebleau. This consisted of the group of painters collected by Henry IV after the pacification of France to decorate the royal palaces, which had inevitably fallen into decay during the Wars of Religion. Recent research has shown that there was more activity in painting in the last thirty years of the sixteenth century than was previously supposed; and one considerable figure, Antoine Caron, has emerged as dominating the penod.32 It is still true, however, that monumental painting, as it had existed at Fontainebleau in the hands of Rosso, Primaticcio, and Niccolo dell'Abbate, had more or less vanished from the scene, and in that sense the formation of the Second School of Fountainebleau was a genuine revival. By the time Poussin reached Paris, however, the School was in a low state. Toussaint Dubreuil, its most talented member, had died in 1602, Henri Lerambert in 1608, and Ambroise Dubois and Jacques Bunel were to die in 1614, leaving only Martin Freminet to carry on the tradition till his death in 1619. As far as the very insufficient evidence allows any opinion to be formed, some of these painters seem to have exercised no influence on the young Poussin, though once again the caveat has to be added that there may have been works, now lost, which proved the contrary. Of Bund's style we know little, since nothing remains of his major works, such as the decoration of the Petite Galerie of the Louvre or the chapel of the St.-Esprit in the church of the Grands-Augustins. A drawing in the Hermitage, however, traditionally ascribed to him and representing Jupiter, Neptune, and Juno, shows that he had studied carefully the ceiling of the Galerie d'Ulysse at Fontainebleau, but that he combined with the elegance of Primaticcio and Niccolo dell'Abbate a Michelangelesque treatment of the male nude. 33 Henri Lerambert was mainly important as a designer of tapestries. He adapted designs by Caron for those illustrating the life of Artemisia,34 and in the two series of his own invention — the Life of Christ, woven for St.-Merri, and the Coriolanus set — he still appears as a close imitator of the older artist.35 Martin Freminet is a more distinct figure. His most important series of paintings, on the vault of the chapel at Fontainebleau (cf. fig. 15), survive more or less intact, and they confirm what Felibien tells us, 36 namely, that in his youth he went to Rome and was deeply affected by the study of Michelangelo. Neither these paintings, nor the few 32. On Caron, see J. Ehrmann, Antoine Caron. Geneva figures of the Zodiac (cf. Les Actes de Sully passes an and Lille, 1955, and F. Yates, 7 lie Valo'u Tapestries, Lonnom tin roi, ed. M. F. de Mallevoiie, Paris, 1911, pp. don, 1959. 134f). Bunel did not work exclusively for the court, and 33. The attribution of this drawing to Bunel is confirmed a number of paintings by him in Paris churches are inenby the fact that a copy of it exists in the Louvre (Inventioned by travelers and in guidebooks. taire general, Eeole franied$ qui font de bois fculpte* dorc; l'un des deui a iii reftaur^. . " 5 7 Deux aucres idem I genoux, de m^me e deur; un des deux a iti aufli reftaure. 58 Trois aucres idem,affis& couches, aux-fi. quels il manque quelques parties do corps'' 35) Le Bufte de la femme d e N . Pouffin, ei corfet 8c la gorge d^couverte, de 10 pou ces & demi, y compris le piedefta^qui ei ( de marbre. ... H! 52. Gabriel de Saint-Aubin. Drawing of a Bust of Ponssin's Wife by Francois Duqitcsiioy. 1775 Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

1629 he took shelter with the family of Jacques Dughet, a French cook who kept a trattoria and whose family looked after him during the serious illness that overtook him. This illness is mentioned by all the early biographers, but Passeri is the only one to define it as the mal di Francia, and he says that Poussin sufFered from it for several years.6 When he was apparently cured, Jacques Dughet gave him his daughter Anne Marie in marriage, the ceremony taking place on September 1, 1630, in the parish church of San Lorenzo in Lucina (fig. 52) . 7 The few surviving documents show that during these early years, as Sandrart says in his biography, Poussin spent most of his time with the colony of foreign artists in Rome.8 Jacques Dughet had two sons, Gaspard and Jean, who were artists and were to work under their brother-in-law, the latter as an engraver, and the former as a landscape painter, who later became an artist established in his own right.9 He acknowledged his debt to his brother-in-law so far as to take his name and called himself Gaspard Poussin. (>. P. 324. 7. Housquct, "Les Relations de Poussin," p. 6 note 27. and "Chronologie," p. 4. Sterling (Exposition Poussin [Louvrc], p. 223) states that the marriage must have been arranged in the summer of 1629, because the Congregation of the French church allotted a dowry to Anne Marie Dughet on July 3 of that year: but since they also allotted one on the same day to her sister Jeanne, it seems more likely that it was an award to be taken up when necessary rather than given when a wedding was actually

planned, for there is no evidence that Jeanne was married about the same time, and fourteen months would seem a very long engagement for her sister. 8. Sandrart (p. 257) is wrong, however, in saying that Poussin did not spend time with his compatriots, for French names frequently occur in the records of his connections. 9. Gaspard is recorded as living with Nicolas from 1631 to 1634, and Jean from 1636 to 1640 (Bousquet, "Les Relations de Poussin," p. 6).

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NICOLAS POUSSIN In addition, we find Poussin in the company of certain painters with whom he was to continue on close terms of friendship for much of his life. Perhaps the most important was Jacques Stella, whom he had probably known in Lyons. Stella was two years younger than Poussin; in 1619 he had begun his career in Florence as an engraver, and in 1623 he settled in Rome, where he stayed till 1634. After his return to Paris in that year he continued to maintain regular contact with Poussin by means of letters, of which only tantalizing fragments survive. We also find among Poussin's neighbors artists such as Jean Lemaire, who was to collaborate with him in the execution of the Long Gallery in the Louvre from 1640 to 1642,10 Claude Mellan, who was to engrave the title pages designed in Paris in the same years, Karel Philips Spierincks, who was to be the first painter to imitate the Bacchanals,11 and above all, Claude Lorraine, who was to remain a close friend of Poussin during the whole of the latter's life. Other artists recorded as living near him include Andrea Sacchi, the Flemish sculptor Artus Quellin, and some painters with whom he can have had less in common, though the differences would not have been so marked at this stage of his career, when his own ideas were less sharply formed: Simon Vouet, with whom he was to clash when he visited Paris in 1640, Valentin de Boullogne, and Jacques de TEstaing. who followed Vouet's manner.1^ At some stage in these early years, perhaps about 1625, when anti-French feeling ran high in Rome on account of a crisis in the Valtellina affair, Poussin, who always dressed in the French manner, was attacked near the Quattro Fontane by a group of hostile Romans and only saved himself from a serious wound on the hand by parrying the blow with a portfolio of drawings which he happened to be carrying. This incident caused him to change his habit and from that time onward he abandoned his French dress and adopted that of the Romans. ^ Although Poussin spent the greater part of these early years in Rome, there is good reason to think that he visited Naples. In the evidence he gave in 1631 at the Valguarnera trial, which will be discussed later, he refers to a good friend of his, whom he called "Gosman" — presumably a Spaniard named Guzman — who lived in Naples and had bought paintings by him: and other pictures of the early period are traceable in Neapolitan collections.14 A visit to Naples is confirmed by the fact that, according to Felibien,15 Poussin greatly admired the famous vase signed by the Greek sculptor Salpion (fig. 131a, fc), which then served as the font in the cathedral of Gaeta, for if he visited that city, he would almost certainly have gone on to Naples, where he would no doubt have been well received on account of his friendship with Marino. 10. He was living in the same house as Poussin in 16.30 (ibid., p. 4). 11. For Spierincks, cf. Blunt, rrPoussin Studies X." A further painting by him, a Baptism, was sold as by Poussin in an anonymous sale at Christie's. October 20, 1961, Lot 179. 12. Bousquet. "Chronologic" p. 3. and "Les Relations de Poussin," p. 2. In 1624, however, Poussin is recorded in the same house as Vouet (ibid.). In addition, there were

a number of minor Northern artists, including Nicolas de La Fage, Pierre Mellin. Claude Pionnier, Jean and Jacques Lhomme. and the architect Frangois Dujardin from Lorraine (ibid., pp. 3fl. and ''Chronologic." pp. 4f). 13. Cf. Passeri. p. 324. 14. See, e.g., Catalogue. Nos. 32, 38, 63, 154, 166, 190, and Blunt. rToussin Studies VII." 15. IV. p. 147.

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THE EARLY ROMAN YEARS (1624-1630) Although Poussin was thirty years old when he arrived in Rome, he was conscious that his training had been insufficient, and he went to school again. Bellori tells us that he continued the studies of anatomy which he had started in Paris, and that he not only read Vesalius, but followed the dissections performed by Nicolas Larchee, a celebrated French surgeon who practiced in Rome. He devoted particular attention to geometry and perspective, which he studied in the published works of Alberti and Diirer and also in the manuscripts of Padre Zaccolini, a learned Theatine, who had been the master of Domenichino in this subject and was active in the study and transcription of Leonardo's manuscripts.16 He also drew from the model, first in the studio of Domenichino and then, when the latter left Rome for Naples in 1631, in the studio of Andrea Sacchi, where the principal model was a man known as the Caporale Leone, who was celebrated, Passeri says, for the liveliness of his poses.17 But, it is hardly necessary to say, Poussin was most deeply affected by the works of art which he saw around him. From this point of view, the contrast with his experiences in Paris was profound. From a world where there were few models or teachers, he had moved to one where there were almost too many, living and dead. There was antiquity; there were Raphael, Michelangelo, and Titian among the great masters of the Renaissance; there were the Carracci and Caravaggio among the recently dead; and at that very moment, a completely new style was arising, for Poussin's first years in Rome coincided with the sudden flowering of the Baroque. Rubens had come and gone; Bernini had already made his first great statues and was starting on the decoration of St. Peter's; Guercino had left Rome after painting the Aurora; Lanfranco was at work on the dome of Sant'Andrea della Valle; and Pietro da Cortona was executing his early paintings for the Sacchetti. In architecture, too, a new style was being created by two of the figures active in the other arts — Bernini and Pietro da Cortona — together with a third, Francesco Borromini, who worked solely in brick and stone and was the most revolutionary of them all. The variety of artistic experience thus suddenly offered to Poussin seems to have bewildered him, and for the first five years of his sojourn in Rome his style is marked by its sudden changes from one manner to another. Certain aspects of the wealth of art with which he now became acquainted he ignored almost completely: from Michelangelo, on the one hand, and Caravaggio, on the other, he learned almost nothing. Others — the mature Raphael and the late Annibale Carracci — he only came to understand slowly; but some affected his art almost immediately. The early biographers are unanimous in emphasizing two objects of Poussin's admiration during his first years in Rome, in addition to the works of classical antiquity. The first is Domenichino's Flagellation of St. Andrew (fig. 53), painted on the wall facing Guido Reni's St. Andrew Led to Martyrdom (fig. 54) in the chapel of the saint at San Gregorio al Celio. At the time, we are told, most young painters were attracted by the sweeter and more charming Guido and neglected Domenichino's severe composition, but Poussin called attention to it by the intensity 16. Bellori, p. 412; Steinitz, passim.

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17. P. 326.

53. Domeiiichiiio. The Flagellation of St. Andrew. San Grcgorio al Celio, Rome

54. Gnido Reni. St. Andrezv Led to Martyrdom. San Gregorio al Celio, Rome

55. Giovanni Bellini and Titian. The Feast of the Cods. National Gallery of Art, Washington. D.C. (Widener Collection)

with which he studied it, and so converted many to his admiration for the most faithful follower of the Carracci. This story is no doubt true in substance, but it must be said that Poussin himself seems to have borrowed motives from the Guido, particularly in his Triumph of David at Dulwich (pi. 15), in which, however, the general style is nearer to that of Domenichino. The other works that he frequently studied were Titian's Bacchanals, executed for the Este family, which were preserved in the Villa Ludovisi. Poussin copied the first of this series (pi. 94), the Feast of the Gods, begun by Bellini and finished by Titian (fig. 55), and he is said by Bellori

18

not only to have studied the Feast of Venus (fig. 56) but actually to have made wax models after figures in it with his friend Duquesnoy. The influence of the other two Bacchanals, the Bacchanal of the Andriatts (fig. 57) and the Bacchus and Ariadne (fig. 58), was to be of paramount importance in Poussin's development a few years later. The chronology of Poussin's paintings in the early Roman years is extremely uncertain and has given rise to much discussion. The firm points are few. While Poussin was going through his experimental phase he does not seem to have followed a steady line of development, and furthermore, he seems to have been led to treat different subjects in different manners. This was probably due to an instinct, which he was later to rationalize into the theory of the Modes, and which caused him to choose a style appropriate to the subject he was treating and to turn for inspiration in each particular case to models that seemed suitable. It is therefore impossible to construct a system that 18. P. 412.

59

56. Titian. The Feast of Venus. Prado, Madrid

57. Titian. Bacchanal of the Andrians. Prado, Madrid

58. Titian. Bacchus and Ariadne. The National Gallery, London will account for every painting and place it in a neat series; in the present state of our knowledge it is wiser to be cautious, and to divide the paintings into groups that can be placed tentatively within certain brackets of dates and to some extent arranged in a probable sequence within the groups.19 Given the difficulty of the problem and the paucity of assured facts, it will be as well to set out what is definitely known as far as dates and commissions are concerned. 19. In a paper given to the Colloque Poussin in 1958 ("La premiere Periode romaine," pp. 163ff) I made an attempt to define the problem and to suggest the outline of a chronology. Since that time a few new facts have come to light, and the Louvre exhibition of 1960 gave rise to certain revisions of dating. In addition, I have had a further opportunity to study two paintings which I then published as originals, but which now seem to me not by Poussin's hand: the Woman Taken in Adultery, then in the Kincaid-Lennox Collection, and the Sacrifice of Noaii at Tatton Hall (for a discussion of my reasons for not accepting these paintings, see "Colloque," pp. 330, 331, and "Poussin Studies XIII," pp. 489f).

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As a result of the Louvre exhibition, Denis Mahon has put forward a chronology for the paintings up to the journey to Paris, placing them all precisely, usually to a particular year and sometimes to a period of months ("Poussin's Early Development" and "Poussin's Development"). I have stated elsewhere the points on which I can follow him or on which I had arrived independently at similar conclusions ("Poussin Studies XI"), and also my reasons for not being able to agree with his method or to accept his main conclusions. In a further article ("Poussiniana"), which appeared when the text of this book had been with the publishers for more than six months. Mahon developed his arguments at considerable length.

59. After Poussin. The Capture of Jerusalem. Anonymous engraving after a lost drawing

The first works mentioned by Bellori which survive are the two battle pieces now in Russia (pis. 4, 5 ) , painted during the absence of Cardinal Francesco Barberini. that is, between March 1625 and December 1626. A payment of 61 scudi is recorded on February 13, 1626, on behalf of Cardinal Barberini for the first version of the Capture of Jerusalem, now lost but known in its general composition from an engraving after a preliminary drawing (fig. 59).20 It is to be assumed that, if the painting was paid for in February 1626, it was executed in the last months of 1625 and the beginning of 1626. After mentioning the battle pieces but before describing the Death of Gcrmaniciis, Bellori speaks of certain "scherzi. e bacchanali a guazzo" made in imitation of Titian's Feast of Venus. and this must refer to the two tempera paintings in the Incisa della Rocchetta collection (pis. 8, 9 ) . which can therefore be dated about 1625-26.21 The Adoration of the Golden Calf in the de Young Museum in San Francisco (pi. 10) is signed and dated, but unhappily the last figure of the date has recently disappeared in cleaning, and it had been variously read as either a 6 or a 9. On the whole, the date of 1626 seems the more 20. Sterling (Exposition Poussin [Louvre], p. 216) does not believe that the drawing could have been for the first version of the Capture of Jerusalem because, according to him, the second version (pi. 117) "comportait beaucoup plus de figures." In fact, however, what Bellori says (p. 413) is that it was "piu copiosa, e megliore della prima," which only implies that it was richer or fuller in

composition: and Felibien (IV. p. 18) says that it was "plus rempli de figures," which might imply that the figures were larger, as they are in the Vienna composition, rather than more numerous. 21. Sterling (Exposition Poussin [Louvre], p. 218) tentatively places in the years 1625-26 the wax Ariadne (fig. 27), but I believe it to be considerably later.

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THE EARLY ROMAN YEARS (1624-1630) probable on grounds of style, since the work would not fit with the accomplished paintings of 1629. The Cherbourg Pi eta (pi. 11) can be dated to the period 1625-27 for reasons set out in the entry of the Catalogue. Bellori tells us that the Gcrmanicus (pi. 22) was commissioned by Cardinal Barberini after his return from his missions to France and Spain, which occurred on December 17, 1626. It is therefore almost certain that the payment of 61 scudi made on January 24, 1628, is for this painting, which was no doubt executed in the second half of 1627.22 In 1628 Poussin received his first recorded public commission, an altarpiece of St. Erasmus for St. Peter's (pi. 45). The commission was given to him on February 4, 1628, and the payments run from June to September 1629, with a special additional payment in October. The painting must therefore have been planned and executed between February 1628 and September 1629.23 Immediately after the St. Erasmus Bellori mentions the Virgin Appearing to St. James (pi. 48), which, he says, was painted "about the same time,"24 so that it can be safely dated about 1629-30. For the years 1630—31 several firm points are supplied by the depositions made in the prosecution of Fabritio Valguarnera, a Spaniard who had stolen a collection of diamonds and used part of them to acquire paintings from Roman and Neapolitan artists.25 In March 1631, Poussin delivered to him the Plague at Ashdod (pi. 64), which he had begun in 1630, and a month or two later the Kingdom of Flora (pi. 65), which Valguarnera had commissioned from him. In addition, mention was made at the trial of a Midas, which is almost certainly the painting at Ajaccio (pi. 61). This painting must therefore have been painted before June 1631, and probably some time before, as it had passed through the hands of the dealer Roccatagliata before coming into the possession of Valguarnera. One may therefore suppose that it was painted in 1629-30.26 Apart from a few references to paintings that are lost without trace, this is all the precise information available about Poussin's activity up to 1631, and it is around this inadequate skeleton that any account of his early development has to be composed. As one would expect, Poussin's first works executed in Rome are a direct continuation of the style which he had evolved in Paris. The earliest is probably the Cleopatra and Augustus (pi. 3), now in the National Gallery of Canada, which is said to have come from the Palazzo Barbenni and may possibly be his first commission from the cardinal.27 It is a clumsy work, com22. Bellori, p. 413; and Bousquet. "Chronologie," p. 3. 23. Cf. Pollak, II, pp. 74(F, 87, 272, 540f. 24. P. 414. Felibien (IV, p. 20) says "dans ce tems-la," i.e., the same time as the St. Erasmus, and adds a footnote, "Vers Pan 1630." 25. Cf. Costello, "Twelve Pictures," passim. 26. In the records of the Valguarnera case mention is made of a Bacchus and Midas, which was a copy bought by Valguarnera from Roccatagliata with the little Midas (cf. Costello, ibid., pp. 273, 278). It is tempting to identify it as a copy of the Munich painting, but since the deposi-

tions do not mention the name of any artist in connection with it, such a connection must remain hypothetical. 27. The attribution of this painting has not been universally accepted. Thuillier, for instance ("Pour un peintre oublie," p. 31), has proposed for it the name of Remy Vuibert, but the painting bears no resemblance to his certain works. Seen in the original, it is, unhappily, so close to Poussin in many essential respects that I do not believe that the attribution can be seriously doubted, though I would much rather eliminate from the list of Poussin's works this highly unattractive painting.

63

i'

60. School of Marcantonio Raimondi. Solomon and tlie Queen of Sheba. Engraving

bining but not harmonizing elements from all sorts of different sources. The group of women on the left could be paralleled in several of the Marino drawings, and the heavy, low-browed heads of the Roman soldiers on the right occur in the battle drawings of the same series. The general composition, on the other hand, is influenced by models from the school of Raphael, the closest being the engraving of the Queen of Sheba by a follower of Marcantonio (fig. 60);28 the figure of the man in the right foreground is reminiscent of Ambroise Dubois (fig. 16). Even here, however, the borrowing is not quite direct. The figure derives ultimately from a relief on the Arch of Constantine (fig. 61), but the ancient sculptor has made it stand firmly, with a strong emphasis on weight and stability. Dubois turned it into an extreme example of a Mannerist "dancing" figure, poised, as it were, on a single point and deliberately unstable. Poussin, characteristically, has compromised: his soldier is lighter and more elongated than the Roman original, but, compared with Dubois's version, it seems to be steady and solid. The most striking feature of the painting is the rich coloring and free handling of Cleopatra's robe, and the brilliant treatment of helmets worn by the two soldiers in the right foreground. The latter is probably due to what (cf. A. J. J. Delen, Histoire de la gravure dans les anciens pays-bas & dans les provinces beiges, Part II, ii, Paris, 1935, pi. xxxviii) and D. V. Coornhert after Frans Floris the Elder (ibid., pi. xxix).

28. The general pattern of this Raphaelesque composition was taken up by several sixteenth-century Dutch and Flemish engravers whose works Poussin may have known, e.g., Barbara van den Broeck after Crispin van den Broeck

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61. Roman Sculpture. The Emperor Haranguing His Troops Aurelian relief on the Arch of Constantine, Rome

Poussin learned from his master, Quentin Varin, but the painting of the robe is strictly Venetian and must be the direct result of the artist's visit to Venice on his way to Rome. The skill in the treatment of metal and the darkness of tone 29 seen in the group of soldiers in the Cleopatra reappear in a recently discovered work, Hannibal Crossing the Alps (pi. 7), which must date from about the same time and was probably painted for Cassiano dal Pozzo. Though rather clumsy, the composition, dominated by the huge mass of the elephant, is highly original, and certain details, such as the young man kneeling in the foreground on the right, are brilliant in handling. The two battle pieces now in Russia are composed on the same principles as the drawings of early Roman battles made in Paris, though the paintings actually represent episodes from the wanderings of the Children of Israel. Here the debt to Polidoro da Caravaggio is particularly evident, and the group of archers in the foreground of the Amalckitcs is an adaptation from his celebrated composition of Perseus and Phineus (fig. 62). The color of these two works recalls the 29. This darkness is in general terms Venetian but seems to derive specifically from the Bassano family rather than from Titian or Veronese. Poussin could have seen their

paintings in Venice on his way from Paris, but it is not clear whether there were many of them in Roman collections.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN tonality of the Sacrifice by Dubreuil (fig. 21), which Poussin had known in Paris, but it differs from this model in that all the brighter tones are muted; the flesh color is almost cadaverous, the reds tend to a faded crimson, the greens to a dull bottle-green, and the blues are heavily mixed with white. The piled-up high-relief composition, without space or air, is still influenced by engravings of the school of Raphael, but Poussin had no doubt received a new stimulus toward this kind of treatment from the many late Roman representations of battles he would have seen in Rome (cf. fig. 63). Bellori only speaks of two battle scenes, but a third is known in the Vatican Gallery (pi. 6) which is identical in format and must belong to the same series, though it is much darker in tone and smoother in handling. In these respects it is close to certain works by Quentin Varin, particularly the Entombment in the Louvre (fig. 7) and the Flagellation in the cathedral of Amiens.30 It is unique among Poussin's works in being a night scene, but in this detail the artist is following the story of Gideon's victory over the Midianites as told in Judg. 7:16, 20-21: ". . . and he put a trumpet in every man's hand, with empty pitchers, and lamps within the pitchers. . . . And the three companies blew the trumpets, and brake the pitchers, and held the lamps in their left hands, and the trumpets in their right hands to blow withal: and they cried, The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon . . . and all the host ran, and cried, and fled." It is striking how closely Poussin follows the narrative that he is illustrating down to the most minute details: the broken pitchers held in the left hand, the trumpets in the right, the men shouting, and the enemy fleeing; and at the same time he gives proof of his ability to paint a night effect as dramatic as any conceived by the followers of Caravaggio. The influence of Titian's Bacchanals is clearly evident, as Bellori suggests, in the two Children's Bacchanals (pis. 8, 9) probably painted about the same years as the battle pieces. Many of the individual poses — for instance, the boy relieving himself on the extreme left in plate 8 — are taken directly from Titian's paintings, and the types of putti are exactly those shown in the Fcast of Venus, of which both Poussin and his friend Duquesnoy were to make such frequent and such original use during the following years. Titian is, however, not Poussin's only source in these compositions, and he has been as much inspired by ancient sarcophagi showing putti performing all the rites of the Dionysiac mysteries (cf. figs. 64, 65). In particular, the putto hiding behind a huge satyr's mask in plate 8 is to be found on several such sarcophagi reliefs, one of which Poussin copied in a drawing (fig. 66). For the Romans these figures almost certainly had a religious significance, but it is doubtful whether at this stage Poussin was aware of this implication. This view is strengthened by the fact that, whereas in the ancient reliefs the putto uses the mask to terrify .30. This smooth and brilliant handling of naturalistic detail also appears in the paintings of Antoine Le Nain, which further have in common with Poussin's battle pieces the use of a minute dot of thick white paint to indicate a highlight on the eye. These technical features

may have been characteristic of painting in northeastern France, where all these works were produced, A drawing at Windsor (Blunt, Frencli Drawings, p. .38, No. 180), representing the victory over the Midianites, is probably a study for yet another composition of this type.

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62. Polidoro da Caravaggio. Perseus and Phinens. Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre. Paris

63. Roman Sculpture. Battle Scene. Trajanic relief on the Arch of Coiistantine, Rome

64a, b. Roman Sarcophagus. Putti Performing Rites of the Dionysiac Mysteries. Palazzo Mattei di Giove, Rome

65aJ). Roman Sarcophagus. Putti Performing Rites of the Dionysiac Mysteries. Villa Albani. Rome

66. Poussin. Drawings After' the Antique. Musee Bonnat, Bayonne

his companions — probably a symbol of the terrors of the underworld 31 — in Poussin's painting he is simply using it as a shield against one of the others who is charging him on a goat, armed with a thyrsus. These two paintings show how, at the very beginning of his Roman career, Poussin made his own synthesis of elements taken from Titian combined with others deriving from ancient reliefs. This is true of the composition as much as of the theme of the paintings, for whereas Titian's Bacchanals are richly designed in depth, Poussin's Children's Bacchanals are planned in strict bas-relief patterns, like the sarcophagi that inspired them. The last composition mentioned by the early biographers as being painted in these early years, the Capture of Jerusalem (fig. 59), is similar to the three battle pieces in the treatment of individual figures and in the formation of figure groups, but it shows a quite different approach 31. The motive also occurred in a lost painting at St.Germain attributed to Dubreuil (cf. Bailly, p. 291. No. 39). Children's Bacchanals were not infrequently represented in the sixteenth century, the most celebrated ex-

ample being Michelangelo's presentation drawing at Windsor (fig. 258). Giulio Romano made a drawing from Philostratus' description of the Erotes, now at Chatsworth (cf. llartt, II, fig. 354).

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NICOLAS POUSSIN toward the problem of composition. For the first time Poussin uses an architectural setting of the type that he was to employ with such success in paintings of the thirties, such as the second version of the same subject (pi. 117) or the Rape of the Sabines (pi. 84). In the Cleopatra he had hinted at the possibilities of this method, but only in a halting manner, using the portico of a palace, but in the Jerusalem he opens up the whole space and by means of the temple shown in steep perspective establishes a sort of stage on which the action takes place. In the Golden Calf, which is probably of 1626, the method is different again. In its general arrangement of the figures in a bas-relief sequence the composition is like the two Children's Bacchanals, but the background introduces an essential novelty in showing a landscape conceived in Titianesque terms and recalling especially that in the Andrians, with its dramatically lit hills and stormy sky. In many ways this landscape looks forward to Poussin's paintings of about 1630, but the clumsiness of certain figures, notably the boy pouring the offering on the right, confirms the dating 1626 rather than that of 1629. Three other paintings which are neither documented nor dated must be placed at about this moment in Poussin's career: the Massacre of the Innocents in the Petit Palais (pi. 14), the Entry of Christ into Jerusalem at Nancy (pi. 12), and the Woman Taken in Adultery formerly with Bohler (pi. 13). The Massacre is close to the two Russian battle pieces, particularly in color and handling, and seen together in the 1960 exhibition, they left no doubt that they were of the same date. The Massacre and the Woman Taken in Adultery have architectural settings similar to that in the Cleopatra, even to the curious slit of light between the buildings and column in the background. The Woman Taken in Adultery is related to the Entry in the use of dark unmodulated masses of architecture to close the composition on either side. Many figures in these two last paintings are to be found repeated almost exactly in the Golden Calf, particularly the dark bearded men of the kind seen on Archaic Greek vases. The Entry into Jerusalem is original in its presentation of the subject, for the scene is viewed from inside the city gate, with Christ advancing toward the spectator and not, as is usual, from the outside, with the procession going into a gate shown in the middle distance. Three other paintings can probably be dated about this time, owing to their connection with those just discussed and to the fact that they are much less mature in style than the Germaniens of 1627. The first, the Triumph of David at Dulwich (pi. 15), presents many difficulties from the point of view of dating, since it seems to have stood about in Poussin's studio for some years and to have been worked on over a long period. Its original form can, however, to some extent be seen in an X-ray photograph (fig. 67). In its first state the group on the left was fuller than it is now, since figures have been painted out between the trumpeter and the group of women on the extreme left. The woman with two children in the middle of the foreground was certainly painted at a later stage, probably about 1634-35, though there seems to have been a figure of some sort in this position from the beginning. It is hard to say exactly which parts of the composition 70

67. X-ray photograph of Poussin's Triumph of David survive in their original state, but the three women on the extreme left seem to be painted in the technique of the mid-twenties and form a complete contrast to the seated woman with the two children. In addition, the architecture has been altered, and niches have been painted out in the portico. The figure composition bears a close resemblance to the three pictures just discussed. The general layout of figures on a stage closed by the portico of a temple, beyond which the eye passes to the left to a more remote building, is the same as in the Massacre. The disposition of the figures in two continuous masses leading up to a slight gap in the middle occupied by the principal figure is that used in both the Entry and the Woman Taken in Adultery. An early dating for the first state of the David is further confirmed by a preliminary drawing^ which is in the style used by Poussin in the second half of the twenties. It has often been said that this painting shows the influence of Domenichino, particularly in its composition and in the architectural setting. It is true that the generally light and blond tone of the painting is like Domenichino's frescoes on the vault of Sant'Andrea della Valle, and that 32. CR, I, p. 14, No. 30. 71

68. After Raphael. Parnassus. Engraving by Marcantonio Raimondi

the placing of the temple, with the little figures between the columns of the portico, recalls his Flagellation of St. Andrciv (fig. 53), but there is in fact a closer model for the composition to be found in one of the tapestries of the Triumph of Scipio woven for Francis I from the designs of Giulio Romano. The tapestry itself is lost, but the composition is known from the finished preparatory drawing 33 and from an engraving by Giorgio Ghisi (fig. 25). It not only shows the same general composition with figures moving on a sort of stage in front of a temple, but has also several details in common with Poussin's painting. The portico of the temple has the niches that appear in the X ray of the Poussin; both artists depict little figures standing in the portico and, in some cases, clinging to the columns in their attempt to lean forward and see what is taking place below; and the group of women on the extreme right of the engraving seems to be the model for the similar group in Poussin's painting. Closely linked with the David by their coloring and the scale of their figures are two other paintings, the Parnassus in the Prado (pi. 18) and the Assumption of the Virgin formerly at Burghley House, now in Washington (pi. 2lb). The Parnassus is a free variant of Raphael's fresco 33. E. R. cTAstier, La belle Tapisscryc du Roy, Paris, 1907, pp. 104f, pi. XIX.

72

THE EARLY ROMAN YEARS (1624-1630) in the Vatican, with a not very skillful attempt to fill the gap — due in Raphael's composition to the window — by the insertion of the nymph of the Castalian spring, an awkward figure reminiscent of the School of Fontainebleau in its proportions. In certain respects Poussin has followed Marcantonio's engraving (fig. 68) more closely than the painting. The putti, for instance, which occur in the engraving and in Poussin's painting, are not to be seen in the fresco. Erwin Panofsky34 believes that the painting is a tribute to Marino, and nothing would be more likely than that Poussin should have painted such a subject soon after the poet's death in 1625. The clumsiness of the design and the drawing of certain figures suggest an early date, which is confirmed by the style of the preliminary drawing, and by certain technical tricks, such as the use of strong touches of red in the shadows of hands and feet, a device that appears in exactly the same form in the two Children's Bacchanals. The setting, with its tufted trees, is like those in the Marino drawings. The variety of Poussin's approach toward painting in these early years is attested by the Washington Assumption. In technique it is like the Parnassus, with its touches of red; in certain passages of paint it is close to the early stage of the Dulwich David — the clay-colored drapery over the tomb, for instance, is to be found again in one of the figures on the right of the David; the blond coloring is like the Parnassus and parts of the David; the putti have stepped out of the Children's Bacchanals; and the Virgin is like the central mother in the Massacre; and yet in feeling, the picture is entirely different. It is apparently the first of Poussin's few excursions into the Baroque, though it is a Baroque of such lightness and prettiness that one is reminded as much of the dixhuiticme as of seventeenth-century Rome. No doubt the nature of the commission compelled Poussin to this unusual use of pinks and creamy whites. The next firm point in Poussin's development is the Germanicus of 1627 (pi. 22) which is more somber and warmer in color, and much more mature in its space composition and figure drawing than any of the paintings so far mentioned. There is one group of relatively small paintings that are in many ways similar in style to it and were probably executed at about the same period. These are the Karlsruhe Holy Family (pi. 20a), the Heinemann Rest on the Flight into Egypt (pi. 21a), the Hanover Inspiration of the Poet (pi. 20fc), the much damaged Mercury, Herse, and Aglaurus in the Ecole des Beaux-Arts (pi. 19), and the Annunciation at Chantilly (pi. 27). All these show the influence of Titian in the coloring and in the types. The hills and sky in the Rest on the Flight are based on the Baccliaiial of the Andrians, and its putti come from the Feast of Venus; the white veil and the blue cloak of the Virgin in all three religious pictures are painted in the manner invented by Titian and used by many Venetian painters of the early and mid-sixteenth century; and the whole conception of color is inspired by paintings such as the Sacred and Profane Love (fig. 69a? b), which Poussin would have seen in the Villa Borghese. But, as in the Children's Bacchanals, he does not deliver himself over to Titian bound hand and foot, for there are in these paintings elements that come from Raphael — the putti in the Hanover Inspiration, for instance, are taken from Marc34. A Mythological Painting . . . in Stockholm, pp. 5Iff.

73

69 a, b. Titian. Sacred and Profane Love. Borghese Gallery, Rome

70. Copy after Poussin. The Flight into Egy\)L Collection P. Q. Rculos, Paris

antonio's engraving after the Parnassus — and in every case the composition is conceived more strictly in accordance with the principles of an ancient has-relief than was the case with Titian's Bacchanals. The similarity of this group of works with the Children's Bacchanals, however, goes no further than the actual elements of which they are composed; the spirit is entirely different, and for the first time Poussin seems to have been trying to put into his paintings something of the romantic beauty of Titian's poesie, which was to be one of his chief aims in the years around 1630. During the following years, Poussin was to paint a number of canvases with figures on a much larger scale than hitherto, culminating in the St. Erasmus of 1628-29. There are three paintings that seem to be his first attempts at tackling this problem: the Flight into Egypt in the Gowing collection (pi. 24), Moses Srreetenivg the Bitter Waters of Marali (pi. 25), and a Holy Family (pi. 26). The authenticity and the early date of the Flight is supported by a drawing (fig. 70), which, though probably not an original, certainly incorporates a design of Poussin's and is in the manner that he used about the years 1626-28. The Virgin in the painting is similar both in type and in dress to the corresponding figure in the works just discussed, and the blank wall of the town on the left recalls the use of a similar wing in the Entry of Christ into Jerusalem (pi. 12). The painting, though very much damaged, is original in its conception, particularly in the device of showing the figures moving across the canvas toward the right but all looking back toward the left, thus creating a stabilizing countermovement. The significance of the Marali from the iconographical point of view will be discussed later; 75

71. X-ray photograph of Poussiirs Midas at the Source of the Paciolus

72. X-ray photograph of Poussin's Adoration of the Golden Calf

THE EARLY ROMAN YEARS (1624-1630) its interest in the present context lies in the fact that here Poussin has attempted to deal with a group of figures bigger in scale than any he had painted so far — bigger even than those in the Flight — and greater in number. The links with other paintings just discussed are evident: the girl is of the familiar type, the painting of the brazen pots is like that of the armor in the battle pieces; but the problem which faced Poussin was new. It is not surprising that he did not solve it with complete success at the first attempt.35 The Holy Family is an enlarged variant of the Karlsruhe picture, more classical in its poses, particularly those of the Virgin and Child, but heavier and less well articulated in its forms. Its somber coloring recalls certain early paintings, such as the Hannibal, and foreshadows those of about 1629-30, but it seems in other respects to fall halfway between them. It is quite possible that Poussin never entirely abandoned his dark manner during these early years and continued to practice it parallel with the lighter style of the Parnassus and the David, as he did in the Plague at AsJidod and the Kingdom of Flora in 1631. The Death of Germanicus is Poussin's first fully mature work. Hitherto he had either been using a style already evolved in Paris, as in the battle pieces, or experimenting with varying degrees of success in new modes. In the Germanicus the Titianesque color is combined with mastery of spatial composition, and the whole of Poussin's art is displayed for the first time in the depiction of one of those heroic stories from ancient history which were to inspire him so frequently in the middle period of his life. The story of Germanicus was widely known in the seventeenth century through the version told by Tacitus,'' 6 which inspired many tragedies, mainly by French writers. Germanicus, a noble and successful general, who was compared after his death with Alexander the Great, was a nephew of the Emperor Tiberius, who was jealous of his successes, particularly in the German campaigns. He was given the government of the eastern provinces of the Empire, but Tiberius placed Piso in Syria to watch him and thwart his activities if he threatened to become too powerful. While in Antioch, Germanicus fell ill and suspected Piso of having poisoned him at the instigation of the Emperor. On his deathbed he made his friends swear to avenge him and to care for his wife and children, who were with him at his death. This is the moment chosen by Poussin for his painting. Germanicus is surrounded by his generals, who are swearing vengeance, while his wife and children are grouped, mourning, around the head of the bed. According to Tacitus, the soldiers confirmed their oath by touching the right hand of the dying man, and, although Poussin shows them with their hands raised in the traditional gesture of swearing an oath, Germanicus' right hand is shown very conspicuously resting on the sheet, as if the second part of the action were about to follow; this hand indeed forms a focal point for the whole design. 35. Poussin evidently painted other large compositions at a fairly early date, as can be seen from the life-size head revealed by X ray under the Ajaccio Midas (fig. 71)

and the landscape under the fragment of the Golden Calf (fig. 72). 36. Anuales 1, 2. The account of his death is in 2. 70-72.

77

NICOLAS POUSSIN The scene has a grandeur, unknown in Poussin's works before this time, which conveys magnificently the character of the story as told by Tacitus. The effect is heightened by the dignity of the arrangement, with the figures grouped round the bed as in an ancient relief of a death scene. This arrangement is only a development of the method of designing used by the artist in earlier compositions, now applied with greater lucidity, but the setting in which the action takes place is entirely new. When Poussin used architecture in his experimental paintings, it was usually disposed either in a flat plane behind the main group, or as on a stage, with sharply receding wings. In the Germanicns he uses it to construct a clearly defined closed space of some complexity. The figure group is set against a curtain — perhaps a reminiscence of Pourbus' Last Supper, which Poussin had admired in Paris — that binds the figures together into an almost rectangular block, behind which the eye passes to a room divided by arcades into three aisles. The extremely severe architecture forms an appropriate setting for this solemn scene, and at the same time it enables the artist to define the space limits sharply. The severity of the whole effect is, however, mitigated by the warmth of the colors and the brilliance of the painting both in stuffs and in armor. If the Gcrmamcns is Poussin's first epic, the Triumph of Flora (pi. 23) is his first great achievement in the field of the lyric. There is no external evidence for its dating, but its similarity to the Gcrmanicus in color and in its general composition is so evident that there cannot be much difference in the dates at which they were executed. But if they are similar from the formal and stylistic points of view, they are totally different in mood. The Flora is the first painting in which Poussin turns to Ovid's Metamorphoses, which were to inspire so many of his masterpieces in the next ten years. The picture is a sort of anthology, illustrating the stories of those figures in Ovid whose fate it was to be transformed into flowers. Flora presides over the scene, crowned by two flying putti and seated on her chariot, which is drawn by two putti. She turns toward Ajax, who offers his shield full of hyacinths, the flower that sprang from his blood when he killed himself. Behind him Narcissus holds up a basket full of the white flowers that bear his name. On the extreme left Venus heads the procession, dancing with two putti attending her. Behind her comes Adonis carrying his spear in one hand and with the other offering his anemones to Hyacinthus, who bends down while a putto binds a wreath round his forehead. These figures are identified by Bellori, but one may add others. Clytie, the nymph who loved Apollo, is shown kneeling and picking the heliotrope, and on the other side of the chariot walks Smilax offering convolvulus to the goddess. The two figures seated in the left foreground are probably Acis and Galatea, for she wears in her hair a string of pearls, symbol of a sea nymph, and he is crowned with what appears to be a kind of reed, representing the plant into which he was transformed by Galatea after being crushed by the stone hurled at him by the jealous Polyphemus. No doubt the remaining figures are intended to represent specific characters in Ovid's poem, but they are too vaguely indicated to be identifiable. For the Gcrmamcns Poussin has used a severe form of composition in a closed space; for the Flora, in conformity with the less heroic and more lyrical character of the theme, he uses a formula 78

13. Paris Bordone. Picta. Formerly Palazzo Ducale, Venice

that is much freer. The figure group is planned with great lucidity but in a less compact form than in the history painting, with a processional movement across the canvas, checked, almost as in the Flight into Egypt, by the action of Flora as she turns back toward Ajax. The most profound difference, however, is in the setting, which, instead of being the severe interior of a Roman palace, is an open landscape where for the first time Poussin applies the lesson of Titian's landscapes in the Bacchanals in a completely personal manner. The dark tree-outlines against the sky and the stormy light on the distant hills were to recur in his paintings time and time again, but never more poetically than here, and this effect is intensified by the invention of the flowering fruit tree that links the somber foliage on the left with the lighter sky on the right. The greater number of Poussin's Ovidian paintings were probably executed at a slightly later date, but one, the Echo and Narcissus in the Louvre (pi. 28), is so similar in mood to the Flora that it must be placed close to it. It is more intensely melancholy than the larger composition, concentrating as it does on a single tragic story, but it employs the same means in color and in the use of the landscape setting with its stormy sky. In composition it is compellingly simple, even though the pose of the dead Narcissus is at first sight hard to understand. The reason for the strange placing of the left leg is that Poussin took this figure from the Christ in a Picta by Paris Bordone (fig. 73), which he could have seen when he passed through Venice, but there the position of the leg is accounted for by the fact that it is supported by a weeping putto. From this moment probably date the Ccphalus and Aurora in the National Gallery, London (pi. 29), in which the youth is taken from Titian's Bacchus and Ariadne (fig. 58), and also the 79

74. X-ray photograph of Poussin's Bacchus-Apollo

first state of the Bacchus-Apollo in Stockholm (pi. 30), recorded in the drawing at Cambridge and visible in the X ray of the painting (fig. 74), when it probably still represented the myth of Bacchus and Erigone.37 Poussin occasionally employed the style which characterizes the group of paintings round the Gcrmanicus and the Triumph of Flora for compositions of religious subjects. The Triumph of David in the Prado (pi. 38) has the same brilliant painting of armor as the Gcrmanicus. With the Louvre Narcissus it has in common the unusually large scale of the figures in relation to the whole canvas and the cold flesh tones that go back to the early battle pieces. The St. Cecilia, also in the Prado (pi. 37), is similar in color and in the scale of the figures, but in the type of the saint and the manner of painting the face it leads on to certain pictures belonging to the group of large religious paintings which form Poussin's most important series of works in the last years of the 162CTs. 37. Cf. Panofsky, A Mythological Painting . . . in Stockholm and his letter, ffA Mythological Painting." For the dating, see Catalogue, entry No. 135.

80

THE EARLY ROMAN YEARS (1624-1630) This group consists of six large canvases: the St. Erasmus (pi. 45). the Virgin Appearing to St. James (pi. 48), the Mystic Marriage of St. Catherine (pi. 39), the Massacre of the Innocents at Chantilly (pi. 46), the Exposing of Moses at Dresden (pi. 47), and the Inspiration of the Epic Poet in the Louvre (pi. 42), to which must be added a fragment of an Adoration of the Golden Calf (pi. 41), and the bozzetto for the St. Erasmus (pi. 44). The St. Erasmus is, as we have seen, precisely datable to 1628-29, and the St. James probably to 1629-30. The others can only be placed in an approximate relation of date to these two fixed points, so that the precise chronology of the group must, like so much else in this period, be left in some degree of uncertainty, but the cross references among all the paintings in question are so many that they must, in spite of superficial differences, be placed close together. The features that link these paintings are a broad luminous treatment of the forms, which are bathed and modeled in light in the manner of Titian's Sacred and Profane Love; generally speaking, a light, rather blond color key, with tones recalling Veronese as much as Titian; 38 the repeated use of certain types, particularly that of the young women; a free, creamy handling of paint: and certain unusual devices in the painting of eyes and ears. The differences are that in some, like the St. Erasmus or the St. James, Poussin came as near as he ever did to the Baroque, whereas in the Louvre Poet he created his first classical masterpiece. These disparities can, however, be accounted for by the difference of the themes. The two paintings that have most in common with those already discussed are the St. Catherine and the fragment of the Golden Calf. In the former, the types of the Virgin and St. Catherine are close to those found in the Holy Families, the Annunciation, the Flight into Egypt, and the Marah. The composition has the richness of the Ma rah combined with the simplicity sought, but not happily attained, in the big Holy Family; the richness of paint and the deep blues of the Virgin's robe are found in the Germanicus, which also provides a parallel for the brilliant painting of the sword. On the other hand, the composition has a grandeur and a maturity absent from the earlier religious paintings. Basically, the pattern goes back to a type much used in Venice in the sixteenth century, but, whereas in the Venetian models the figures are generally either half-length, as in Titian's Madonna and Child with Four Saints in Dresden, or set in an open space as in Catena's Holy Family with a Knight in the National Gallery, London, here they are grouped together in a continuous mass, richly modeled in high relief, for which the closest analogy seems to be a painting such as Veronese's Marriage of St. Catherine at Hampton Court (fig. 75). The action in the group is varied, but the figures are bound together by a series of clearly defined movements. The most obvious is the horizontal line that runs through the arms of the Virgin and Child to the hand of St. Catherine but branches at each end into diagonals, on the right through the sword and the drapery over St. Catherine's feet, on the left through the cloak of the Virgin and the palm held by the putto behind her. This horizontal movement is stabilized by the verticals of the columns and 38. Except in the St. James, where the color is stronger and less broken.

81

75. Veronese. The Marriage of St. Catherine. Hampton Court Palace

76. Veronese. John the Baptist Preaching. Borghese Gallery, Rome

THE EARLY ROMAN YEARS (1624-1630) the angels. Poussin is here creating for the first time one of those geometrical networks which were to give such finality to his later classical compositions. He had tried out this particular device in the Flight into Egypt, where the main link is formed by the straight line of the donkey's back, branching into the arms of the angel and the arm and drapery of Joseph, but in the 5/. Cathcri7ie it is used with greater effect, because the group is more complex and is modeled in three dimensions, whereas in the Flight the whole movement is in a single plane. In both the St. Catherine and the fragment of the Golden Calf the color and light are conceived in the Venetian manner. The closest model is the early work of Titian, which Poussin would have seen when he passed through Venice, and which he would have had under his eyes in the Sacred and Profane Love. This certainly inspired the heads in both paintings as far as the modeling and the use of reflected light are concerned, though in the fragment Poussin allows a shadow to fall across the principal head with a sharpness which is foreign to Titian, and which is not found in Italian art till after Caravaggio. The manner of painting the eyebrows with a single curved stroke is again Titianesque, but the touching in of eyelashes, line by line, seems to be Poussin's own invention. The color owes more to Veronese than to Titian, particularly in the olive-green and wine color of St. Catherine's dress and the golden yellow of the robe in the fragment. Furthermore, the manner of painting the leaves standing out against the sky at the extreme left of the St. Catherine is typical of Veronese's method, as it appears, for instance, in the John tlic Baptist Preaching (fig. 76), which Poussin would also have known in the Borghese collection.-^ One other painting, which is smaller in scale and different in subject, should be mentioned here, because it is so closely similar in handling and color to the two pictures just discussed. This is the Rinaldo and Armida at Dulwich (pi. 58). The color is somewhat richer — the yellow of the fragment has given place to a golden orange in Rinaldo's breeches — but the generally blond tone and the use of white form a close parallel with the St. Catherine, and we also find the familiar creamy painting of metal in the armor and helmet of the hero. The composition, however, is based on a different principle, with the figures formed into a single closed group, a method used by Poussin in the Chantilly Massacre of the Innocents. The Louvre Inspiration of the Poet comes stylistically between the St. Catherine and the St. Erasmus. Its exact date has been more discussed than that of any other painting by Poussin. The arguments are set out in detail in the entry of the Catalogue, and I shall here confine myself to pointing out the elements which suggest that it belongs to the years around the St. Erasmus and not to either the earlier or later phases to which it has been assigned. The blond coloring, the bathing of the forms in light, the white of the Muse's robe, and the golden yellow and deep blue in the poet's drapery are in the same key as the pictures already discussed; but in certain ways the painting is closer to the St. Erasmus. The contrasts of light and shade are more marked than in the St. Catherine, but find a parallel in both the nudes in the mar39. The same technique appears in the Little Tambourine Player in Vienna, formerly attributed to Titian.

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77. Raphael. Apollo and Marsyas. Stanza della Segnatura, The Vatican

78. Roman Relief. Hercules and lite Ilcsperidcs Villa Albani, Rome

tyrdom scene; and the Muse's dress falls in curves that are more like the simplicity of the priest's cloak in the St. Erasmus than the broken forms of St. Catherine's robe. The head of the Muse reminds one of the Virgin in the 5/. Catherine, not only in type but in the shading of the profile — a device taken from Titian — and in the drawing of ear and eyebrow. The trees are still reminiscent of the Marino drawings in their tufty structure; the leaves form a pattern against the sky reminiscent of Veronese, but they are more firmly drawn and have the silvery underside that Poussin had taken from Titian's Bacchanal of the Andrians for paintings such as the Narcissus. Even the method of composition has roots in Poussin's earlier work, and the pattern of two vertical figures flanking a broad central mass and linked by a horizontal movement — in this case the arm of Apollo — is only a development of the design of the Flight into Egypt. Furthermore, the sources that Poussin has used in this painting are those on which he had drawn during all his early years in Rome: Titian and Veronese for light and color; Raphael for the pose of Apollo, which is taken from the ceiling of the Stanza della Segnatura (fig. 77); and the Antique 84

THE EARLY ROMAN YEARS (1624-1630) for the relief form of the whole design, the closest analogy being the Hercules and the Hesperides now in the Villa Albani (fig. 78). But how can one account for the new grandeur and for the fact that Poussin should have painted such a masterpiece of classical art at about the same time that he was approaching the Baroque in the St. Erasmus and the St. James? The subject of the painting is undoubtedly one of the factors that led to this classicism. Even in his early period Poussin seems consciously or unconsciously to have used different styles according to the theme that he was painting. When he has a dramatic subject or one involving action, as in the battle pieces, the Petit Palais Massacre, the Triumph of David, or the Assumption, he is freer in his treatment and either Mannerist, as in the battle pieces, or near-Baroque, as in the Assumption. When he has a static theme, the result is more classical, witness the Hanover Inspiration of the Lyric Poet, the Cephalus and Aurora, or the Bacchus-Apollo. In the large compositions, in which the subjects are martyrdoms or visions, Poussin pulls out all the stops and comes very near to the Baroque; when the theme is one with feeling but without drama, as in the St. Catherine, he stands halfway between the two extremes; and when his business is the apotheosis of the epic poet,40 he turns naturally to more classical forms and to a classical prototype. Then the theme accounts for the classicism of the painting; but there must have been something special in the nature of the commission to have spurred Poussin on to the creation of this masterpiece. The great obstacle to accepting the early dating is the difficulty of seeing how Poussin could have attained such heights at this moment; but the St. Catherine and, still more, the St. Erasmus show that by this date he was master of his art, and, if he could produce so fine a painting as the St. Erasmus on a commission which, as we shall see, was probably not congenial to him, a theme which inspired him — as the epic poetry of the ancients would have done — and perhaps also a patron whom he admired and who sympathized with his aims, might have spurred him on to a new achievement. The order to paint the Martyrdom of St. Erasmus for an altar in St. Peter's was for Poussin an event of the greatest importance, since such a commission was the highest aim of every young artist in Rome, and was the sign that he had entered the circle of papal favor. The story of the commission is somewhat complicated.41 In May 1627, a meeting was held in the house of Cardinal Ginnasio to discuss the program of paintings for St. Peter's. Certain painters were mentioned as having already been promised jobs, and these included Andrea Sacchi, the first artist of the Barberim circle to obtain such a commission. At this meeting the altarpiece for the Cappella del SS. Sacramento, one of the largest and most important, was allotted to Guido Reni, and the name of Pietro da Cortona, a second favorite of the Barberini, was mentioned for a smaller altar, for which he was to paint the martyrdom of SS. Processus and Martinianus. Cortona's commission for the small altarpiece must have been changed at a later date, because, when the negotiations with Guido broke down, a further meeting was held — on February 4, 1628 — at which the altarpiece for the Cappella del SS. 40. Cf. Panofsky, A Mythological Painting . . . in Stockholm, pp. 48ff.

41. Cf. Pollak, II, pp. 79ff, 87, 272, 540; and Briganti, pp. 60tf.

85

NICOLAS POUSSIN Sacramento was assigned to Cortona, and his previous commission was handed over to Poussin. Now there is no reason to believe that Poussin was ever connected with the commission for the SS. Processus and Martinianus, which seems to have passed at the same moment to Valentin, and it must be supposed that in the interval between May 1627 and February 1628, Cortona had been switched from this subject to the St. Erasmus. This hypothesis is confirmed by the existence of two drawings by Cortona for a Martyrdom of St. Erasmus, with which Poussin was clearly familiar. The first is a rough sketch in the Uffizi (fig. 79), which has been identified as being probably Cortona's first idea for the composition, and is indeed characteristic of the artist's style at this period. It differs markedly in format from Poussin's canvas and, assuming it to be complete, it must have been intended for a different altar, perhaps for one of the smaller type for which Sacchi painted his Miracle of St. Gregory. Another drawing is, however, known, which seems to represent Cortona's final idea and conforms to the altar ultimately dedicated to the saint. This drawing (fig. 80), in the Royal Library at Windsor,42 is squared in red chalk, which leads one to suppose that Cortona's plans had reached an advanced stage before the commission was transferred to Poussin. The Frenchman made considerable use of Cortona's design, but at the same time the transformations that he introduced are fundamental and characteristic. Cortona's first sketch shows the martyr lying in the lower left-hand corner of the composition, with one executioner bending over him and the other on the extreme right, winding the entrails out with the windlass. Immediately over the saint stands the priest, pointing to a seated statue of Minerva in the niche. The pattern of this composition is almost like the spokes of a wheel, of which the hub is formed by the martyr's body, and the spokes by the arms of the two executioners and the priest. The design is also, however, conceived in depth, and the pointing arm of the priest leads the eye to the statue in the background. In the Windsor drawing, which is far more finished, the figures have been moved about. The head of the martyr is in the lower right-hand corner, and his body and legs, now almost fully exposed, form a strong diagonal into the space of the picture which is supported by the torso and left arm of the executioner who stands over him on the right. The priest has been moved to the left and creates with the movement of his body and his pointing arm another lead into depth at right angles to the body of St. Erasmus. Cortona, in fact, is using the well-known T-shaped composition popular in Roman art in the early seventeenth century, to be found, for instance, in Caravaggio's Conversion of St. Paul. The seated Minerva has been replaced by a standing Jupiter holding a thunderbolt, who occupies the center of the background; and above him, an angel flies down with the celestial crown and the palm of martyrdom. In his first sketch (fig. 81) Poussin takes over a number of elements from Cortona. The priest has almost the pose that he has in Cortona's rough sketch; the statue is a Jupiter holding a thunderbolt, and the top left-hand corner of the composition is marked off by a spear, as in Cortona's second version. Poussin, however, has completely transformed the composition by turning the body of the 42. In the catalogue of the French drawings at Windsor (No. 275), I described it as by ffa feeble imitator" of Poussin, but there can be no doubt that it is by Pietro da Cortona.

86

79. Pietro da Cortona. The Martyrdom of St. Erasmus. Gabinetto Disegni e Stampe, Uffizi, Florence

80. Pietro da Cortona. The Martyrdom of St. Erasmus. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

81. Poussin. The Martyrdom of St. Erasmus Gabinetto Disegni e Stampe, Uffizi, Florence

82. Valentin. The Martyrdom of SS. Processus and Martinianus. Pinacoteca, The Vatican

NICOLAS POUSSIN martyr so that it forms a diagonal parallel to that of the priest's arm. This single movement, which is only slightly crossed by the windlass on the right, is underlined by the executioner bending over the saint and the two figures behind him. In the painted bozzctto which corresponds in all essentials to the full-size canvas, this clear repetition of diagonals is made even more emphatic by the fact that the left arm of the soldier on horseback has been moved so that the pointing hand of the priest now appears against the sky and so gains in force. In the bozzctto, Poussin leaves out the spear and the indication of a building in the top left-hand corner, and transforms the half-naked Jupiter into a Hercules with a cloak over one arm. At the same time, he enlarges the still life in the foreground. In Cortona's finished drawing, this had consisted only of the saint's miter; in Poussin's sketch, the crosier is clearly indicated, and there is a hint of further drapery; in the bozzctto the drapery is enlarged, and in the final painting, it becomes a richly embroidered vestment. These changes introduced by Poussin transform Cortona's rather loose Baroque design into a composition which, though full of movement into space, is yet firmly built up in a series of parallel movements, the only cross-diagonals being the windlass and the pointing right arm of the horseman. In short, Poussin has demonstrated how a classically minded artist can compose in a Baroque idiom. The painting shows for Poussin an unusually dramatic treatment of horror and emotion — indeed, his painting is in some ways more vehement than Cortona's designs — but at the same time, decorum, in the classical sense, is preserved. The face of the saint shows anguish, but in the convention of the Laocoon, and his body preserves the noble forms of a classical marble. The iconography of the painting calls for some comment. According to the early legends, St. Erasmus was subjected to various tortures but survived them miraculously and died a natural death. He was venerated, under the abbreviated form of St. Elmo, as the patron saint of sailors, and was therefore sometimes depicted holding a windlass with a rope wound round it. In late medieval art of the North, the meaning of this symbol was mistaken and the legend was transformed to the version shown by Poussin, namely that the saint's intestines were wound out on a windlass. The altarpiece for St. Peter's is one of the earliest examples in Italian art of the saint's martyrdom being presented in this manner, the only earlier instance traceable being the painting by Carlo Saraceni (d. 1620) in the choir of Gaeta Cathedral, which is dedicated to the saint. The choice of iconography was evidently not made by Poussin but decided by the ecclesiastical authorities, whose instructions no doubt Pietro da Cortona was following in his sketch. Valentin's Martyrdom of SS. Proccssus and Martiniamis (fig. 82) was designed to fill a niche exactly balancing the St. Erasmus, and from the moment the commissions were awarded, he and Poussin were regarded as competing with each other. Valentin was an artist of established reputation in Rome, and to Poussin the opportunity of appearing in the ring with him must have been a challenge. When the two paintings were exhibited, opinions were divided, but on the whole the advantage was not on the side of Poussin. Sandra rt, who was in Rome at the time and knew both artists, tells us 4 3 that, while it was generally allowed that Poussin had triumphed in invention and 43. P. 257.

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83. Poussin. Massacre of the Innocents. Musee d'Art et d'Histoire, Lille

84. X-ray photograph of detail of Poussin's Inspiration of the Epic Poet

NICOLAS POUSSIN in the expression of the passions, it was felt that Valentin, who had produced a purely Caravaggesque painting, had been victorious in naturalism, strength, and richness and harmony of color; and these were the qualities required for the great altarpieces with which the churches of Rome were then being decorated. The Massacre of the Innocents at Chantilly (pi. 46) is linked to the St. Erasmus by many close ties: scale, use of light, and very probably color, at which one can only guess through the darkened and perhaps tinted varnish. Moreover, the remarkable study for it at Lille (fig. 83) is in exactly the same manner as the drawing for the St. Erasmus, though the strong pen strokes have been supported with a little wash. The profile head of the mother rushing away carrying her dead baby is very like the more distant head in the fragment of the Golden Calf, and the soldier with his short, curly dark hair is the same type as the David in the Dulwich Triumph and the poet in the Louvre Inspiration as he appears in the X ray, before his long curls were added (fig. 84). The Massacre is altogether exceptional iconographically in that it shows the whole tragedy concentrated in a single group of mother, child, and soldier, an almost Raciinen concentration compared with the traditional pattern used by Poussin in his earlier version of the subject (pi. 14), with a series of different groups showing variations on the same theme. This method of treating the composition is an example of the principle supported by Poussin in the quarrel which took place in the Academy of St. Luke in the mid-thirties, when the classical party led by Andrea Sacchi maintained that a painting should only contain the minimum number of figures needed to explain the action and should not, as Pietro da Cortona and the Baroque painters maintained, be enriched with episodes introduced for their own sake rather than as a necessary part of the story.44 The drawing is intensely dramatic in its action and in the unusually strong chiaroscuro, but Poussin modified this effect even more than in the case of the St. Erasmus when he came to execute the painting itself. The principal group is already indicated fairly clearly in the drawing, with the violent action of the soldier and the passionate gesture of the mother; but significant changes are introduced in the painted version. In the drawing, the child is shown in steep foreshortening — possibly a reminiscence of Quentin Varin's Miracle of St. Charles Borromeo (fig. 6) — but in the painting it is turned into a position almost parallel with the picture plane. This alteration makes the whole group more compact, so that soldier, mother, and child seem to be carved out of a single block of marble, like the figures in the Dulwich Rinaldo. In the group in the right background, a similar change takes place: in the drawing the mother carrying the dead child rushes diagonally away, turning her head toward the group in the foreground and hiding her child from danger; in the painting she is a pure bas-relief figure, in strict profile, her arm raised in a movement parallel to the picture plane and with the child, now dead, shown with one arm hanging vertically. In the 44. Cf. K. F. Simon, whose views are referred to by Wild, "Les Tableaux a Chantilly," p. 23. The resemblance does not, on the other hand, justify dating the picture to the moment of the quarrel, as Simon does. The idea was no

doubt in the air and was probably put into practice well before it became widespread enough to lead to ollicial discussion at the Academy,

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85. Domenichino. St. Cecilia Distributing Clothes to the Poor San Luigi dei Francesi. Rome

same way the setting is made more rigid and more lucid. The squared pavement sets the space of the foreground, and the scene is closed by a temple seen exactly from the side, both pavement and temple being borrowings from Domenichino, who uses them in his St. Cecilia frescoes in San Luigi dei Francesi (fig. 85). It is true that Poussin has not wholly solved the problem of relating the background to the foreground, and there are ambiguities in the relation between the floor, the temple, and the columns on the right; but it is clear that his intention has been to give great clarity to the space in which he sets his tragic action. A similar change takes place between drawing and painting in the expression of the dramatic feeling of the scene. The face of the mother in the principal group has the open mouth and staring eyes of an ancient tragic mask; the gesture of her arm is less frantic, more contained than in the drawing; and that of the mother in the background is likewise reduced to a more stylized form. Poussin has here consciously sacrificed certain dramatic effects in order to make the whole calmer and to force every part into a carefully worked-out idiom of expression. The Exposing of Moses in Dresden (pi. 47) is in the same style as the Massacre and must date from the same time. Since the subject is calmer, Poussin has not had to exercise the same restraint in order to make of it a classical composition. Once again the painting contains a mixture of Roman, 91

NICOLAS POUSSIN Venetian, and ancient elements: the poses of the front figures are taken from Raphael,4-15 but they are constructed like ancient marbles, while the color is still in the manner of Titian. The strangest feature in the painting is the series of jumps in scale between the river god in the foreground, the figures just behind him, and the group on the other side of the river. In some ways the most Baroque of the whole group of paintings under discussion is the Virgin Appearing to St. James (pi. 48). According to Bellori and Felibien, this was painted for a church in Valenciennes, but nothing is known of how the commission reached Poussin in Rome. It was, however, almost certainly through a Spaniard, since Valenciennes was at that time in the Spanish Netherlands, and the subject, which represents the miraculous appearance that took place at Saragossa, was one to which the Spaniards attached great importance, particularly at this moment, when the cult of St. James and the story of his mission to Spain were very much under discussion.46 In this picture, Poussin has adopted a fully Baroque formula, as it had been used, for instance, by Vouet in his Virgin Appearing to St. Bruno of 1620 (fig. 86), with the principal participants in the scene placed on a diagonal, the Virgin in the top left-hand corner and the saint in the bottom right. The Virgin is of the type that Poussin had used for similar figures in all the large figure paintings of the late twenties and has the floating veil to be seen in several of the Holy Families; the St. James is like the Joseph in the Flight into Egypt, and Poussin has given the saint's companions 47 the dark archaic beards that appear in his paintings from the Golden Calf onward; but the whole painting is much nearer to Bernini in feeling than any other work produced by Poussin, and it was not by chance that the sculptor particularly admired it when he saw it in the due de Richelieu's collection in Paris. It is also the only surviving painting by Poussin in which a definitely Caravaggesque detail can be found: the dusty feet of the man kneeling in the foreground are imitated from Caravaggio's Madonna di Loreto in Sant'Agostino, where they have exactly the same intention, to emphasize the fact that the person concerned is a pilgrim with the dust of the road on his feet. Two other religious compositions belong to this Baroque phase of Poussin's work by their emotional tone, even if the means by which the emotions are expressed conform less closely than in the St. James to the principles of Bernini and his fellows. These are the Deposition in the Hermitage (pi. 52) and the Lamentation over the Dead Christ in Munich (pi. 50). In the Deposition, the drama is primarily conveyed by the violent, almost grimacing expressions of the two mourning figures, but is intensified by the somber coloring, the strong chiaroscuro, and the vehemence of the design, with its emphatic diagonal leading from the putti at the feet of Christ to the head of St. John. In the Lamentation, the tones are less somber and the contrasts of light less strong, and the group is built up in more closed and sculptural forms, but the expressions are as intense in their emotional 45. The river god is from the Psyche Received into Olyml>us in the Farnesina. and the kneeling youth is a comhination of figures taken from the Ananias tapestry and the Abraham and Melchizedek in the Loggie. 46'. Cf. T. D. Kendrick, St. James in Spain, London, 1960,

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passim. 47. According to the legend. St. James had with him eight new converts when the vision appeared to him. Poussin has once again shown a surprisingly accurate approximation in depicting seven such companions.

86. Simon Vouet. The Virgin Appearing to St. Bruno. San Martino, Naples

87. Poussin. The Entombment. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

NICOLAS POUSSIN effect. The Titianesque background with the silver leaves against the stormy sky gives added drama to the tragedy being enacted in the foreground.48 These two paintings prepare the way for the Plague at Aslulod, painted in the last months of 1630 and the beginning of 1631 (pi. 64). In choosing the plague at Ashdod as the theme for a painting, Poussin was following a long tradition which made of it a type of salvation, but it may also have been brought to his mind by a contemporary event, the terrible plague that struck Milan in 1629. In any case, he follows with the greatest precision the story of the plague at Ashdod as told in I Sam. 5. On the left of the painting the Ark of the Covenant is shown in the temple of Dagon, and in front of it, the statue of the god thrown down: ffAnd when they arose early on the morrow morning, behold, Dagon was fallen upon his face to the ground before the ark of the Lord; and the head of Dagon and both the palms of his hands were cut off upon the threshold: only the stump of Dagon was left to him." Poussin follows every detail of this account. The time of the day is indicated by the long shadows and the dim light; the statue of the god is shown thrown down and with the head and one hand broken off and lying on a ledge below. But, if Poussin has been careful in following the biblical story, he has combined with it elements taken from classical literature. The group in the foreground with the man stooping down to take the child from its dead mother's breast is inspired by Pliny's description of a painting by Aristides representing the capture of a town, in which the same motive occurs.49 It was, of course, familiar in Renaissance art, since it had been used by Ghirlandaio in his Massacre of the Innocents,™ and was made even more popular by Marcantonio's engraving of the plague of the Phrygians, called the Morbetfo (fig. 88), which Poussin no doubt knew.51 In certain respects the Plague looks back to Poussin's works of the twenties. The setting, with its steep perspective view of a town, is like the Petit Palais Massacre and the Woman Taken in Adultery, though in this case it is taken precisely from Serlio's reconstruction of the tragic scene (fig. 89). The archaic bearded figures are to be found in the Golden Calf and the St. James, the putti appear in the Deposition and the Lamentation, and the somber coloring has been noticed in many paintings of the period. But in one important respect it marks a new stage in Poussin's evolution: it is one of the first works in which he pays serious attention to the expression of emotions. He had hinted at the possibilities of this theme in the Dulwich Triumph, but not in a systematic manner; it was, however, to become a central feature of his painting in the decades that were to follow. By 1630 Poussin had not only produced several masterpieces, such as the Gcrmanicus, the Chantilly Massacre, and the Louvre Inspiration of the Poet, but he had begun to take up a definite 48. A drawing at Windsor (fig. 87) shows yet a further variation on the dramatic theme of the Deposition and Entombment of Christ and probably dates from about the same period. 49. Naturalis historia 35. 98. 50. In Santa Maria Novella, Florence: cf. the description

of the painting given by Vasari, Le Vite . . . , III, ed. G. Milanesi, Florence, 1878, p. 264. 51. The engraving also includes the drums of columns, which Poussin uses in this painting and in other compositions.

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88. After Raphael. The Plague of the Phrygians. Engraving by Marcantonio Raimondi

89. Sebastiano Serlio. Setting for the Tragic Scene

90. Attributed to Bernini. Portrait of Nicolas Poussin. Collection Sir William Worsley, Bart., Hovingham Hall. Yorks

91. Bernini. Portrait of a Boy. Borghese Gallery, Rome

position in relation to Roman painting of his time. For the first few years after his arrival in the city he had continued to work in a style that was a development from his Parisian manner, though even at this time he began to show an interest in the kinds of art which were later to influence him most profoundly: the Antique, Raphael, and Titian. During the succeeding years the Mannerism of his early works disappears, and he goes through a series of experimental stages, in which his style is increasingly dominated by the Venetians, particularly Titian and Veronese. His relation to contemporary art in Rome also varied during these years. In certain points his attitude is constant. He never followed the lesson of Caravaggio or the style of his followers, Bartolommeo Manfredi and Valentin, of whom the latter was still active in Rome at the time. In certain of his paintings the contrasts of light and shade have a sharpness which has been called Caravaggesque, but in fact, it is no more than the tendency to strengthen such effects, which is a feature common to much Roman painting in the first decades of the seventeenth century, and Poussin's use of the method is far closer to Guido Reni or the Gentileschi than to any of the true Caravaggesques. In his admiration for the Venetians he must have found support in painters like Pietro da Cortona and Andrea Sacchi, though the use they made of Venetian methods was very different, and he was always more influenced than they were by the tradition of Raphael and the Carracci, particularly as it was represented by Domenichino, the one living artist for whom he professed admira96

92. Andrea Sacchi. Detail of the Divina Sapienza. c. 1630 Palazzo Barberini, Rome

93. Francois Duquesnoy. St. Susanna 1630. Santa Maria di Loreto, Rome

tion. For a moment, when he was painting the St. Erasmus and the St. James, Poussin came close to the new art of the Baroque, which was being evolved by Lanfranco, Bernini, and Pietro da Cortona. His color has in certain cases something in common with Lanfranco's in his lighter paintings, particularly his frescoes,5^ and his types are related to those of Cortona. With Bernini the relation is less easy to define, but the St. James is close in feeling to the St. Longinus, which must have partly inspired the weightiness of the figures and the sharpness of the draperies. Bernini's few paintings were conceived in the Venetian manner employed by Poussin in the late twenties, and the portrait of Poussin at Hovingham (fig. 90), which has often been regarded as a self-portrait, is perhaps by the sculptor, whose portraits in the Borghese Gallery (cf. fig. 91) are in precisely the same style. If it is indeed by him, it would be interesting proof of the close relation between the two artists at this period. 52. The cope of St. Erasmus in the foreground of the picture is in color and to some extent in handling like Lanfranco's St. Cecilia in the Galleria Nazionale, Rome,

but it is also reminiscent of Sacchi's Miracle of St. Gregory, painted in 1627, and one of the early examples of the blond manner to which some of Poussin's paintings of the late 1620's conform.

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id to2*.fcr11NiiruraL- all Acradimia ad:I»flVno.

'

94. Poussin. Self-Portrait. The British Museum. London

Of all his contemporaries. Andrea Sacchi and Frangois Duquesnoy seem to have had the greatest affinities with Poussin. Poussin knew them both well, since he worked in the studio of one and shared a house with the other, and they formed the center of a classical group that was to react more and more consciously against the Baroque as it developed during the 1630's. Sacchi's Divhia Sapicnza (fig. 92), begun in 1629, and Duquesnoy's St. Susanna (fig. 93), of about the same period, form the closest parallels for Poussin's more classical works of the late 1620's. Sacchi's painting has a softness alien to Poussin's style even at this stage, but in their blond coloring the Divina Sapicnza and the 5£. Gregory are the nearest counterpart to the Louvre Inspiration or the St. Erasmus. 98

THE EARLY ROMAN YEARS (1624-1630) Duquesnoy's saint is sweet and elegant compared with most of those in Poussin's early paintings, but she is almost a blood relation of his Muse in the Inspiration, and the Flemish sculptor's putti are cousins to Poussin's children and derive lay the same lineage from Titian. We have one reliable record of Poussin's appearance at this moment of his life, the self-portrait drawing in the British Museum (fig. 94), which, according to the seventeenth-century inscription below it, was made during his illness — that is, just before his marriage in 1630 — and given to Cardinal Camillo Massimi when the latter came to take drawing lessons from him, probably in the late 1630's. It shows a man with heavy features, a thick nose wrinkled at the top, and deep furrows round his mouth, no doubt intensified by illness. It is an unhandsome and unprepossessing countenance, but it has something of the force visible in the later self-portrait (pi. 197), and the eyes show that unflinching integrity which was one of Poussin's most marked characteristics.

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Ill The 1630's r i p HE YEARS 1629-30 seem to have marked a considerable crisis in the life of Poussin. His ill— •*- ness was evidently serious, but he was probably even more deeply affected by the cool reception given to the St. Erasmus and by another incident of the same kind which took place in 1630.* In that year the congregation of the French church in Rome, San Luigi dei Francesi, decided to complete the decoration of the chapel of the Virgin, left unfinished by Giovanni Baglione because of his failing eyesight. The names of three artists were mentioned: Lanfranco, Charles Mellin, and Poussin. After some disagreement, the commission was awarded to Mellin, a painter from Lorraine, younger than Poussin and a pupil of Vouet. What must have made the defeat more galling is the fact that one of the judges in the final choice was Domenichino, an artist whom Poussin might reasonably have expected to be favorable to himself. Even the other judge, the Cavaliere d'Arpino, can have had no particular reason for admiring the semi-Baroque art of Mellin, and the whole story smacks of the kind of intrigue from which Poussin was to suffer at the hands of Vouet and his supporters when he went to Paris in 1640. In any case, whether he was defeated by intrigue or on genuine taste, these two incidents must have made him realize that he was not likely to win favor as a painter of altarpieces or frescoes for the churches of Rome, by far the most lucrative occupation for an artist. It may have been some consolation to him that at about this time he was elected a member of the Academy of St. Luke — the exact year is not known, as the records are incomplete, but he appears on the list of academicians in 16322 — and all the evidence tends to show that he accepted his defeat and set about making a new life for himself along different lines, as an artist painting small pictures for a limited circle of intellectual Romans with a real passion for the arts. The central figure in this group was the Commendatore Cassiano dal Pozzo (fig. 95), who was to be for many years Poussin's best patron and friend in Rome.3 Pozzo was a lawyer by train1. Cf. Bousquet, "Un Rival inconnu," and "Les Relations de Poussin," p. 6; Thuillier, "Pour un 'Corpus Pussinianum,' " p. 53. 2. Bousquet, "Les Relations de Poussin," p. 7. 3. The earliest full account of Cassiano dal Pozzo is by Lumbroso, who publishes many documents. Mrs. SomersRinehart has brought together much new material in two

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articles, "Poussin et la famille dal Pozzo" and "Cassiano dal Pozzo." For Pozzo's collection of paintings, see Haskell-Rinehart. For his collection of antiquities, see Vermeule. For his scientific drawings, see Cyril E. N. Bromehead, "A Geological Museum of the Early Seventeenth Century," Quarterly Journal of the Geological Society of London, CHI, 1947, pp. 65ff.

VETVSTATISLVX.NOSTRI SECVLI OECVS

95. Pietro Anichini. Portrait of Cassiano clal Pozzo

Engraving

ing and had become secretary to Cardinal Francesco Barberini. He must have met Poussin through Marino on the artist's arrival in Rome, but their friendship cannot have become effective till about 1627, because Pozzo was absent for most of 1625 and 1626, accompanying the cardinal on his legations to France and Spain. From then onward, however, as we know from the early biographers, Poussin was constantly in his company and working for him, though it is possible that from the point of view of personal relations he was on even more intimate terms with Pozzo's younger brother, Carlo Antonio.4 Poussin always acknowledged his debt to his patron, and Baldinucci tells us that he proclaimed himself "a pupil in his art of the house and museum of the Cavaliere dal Pozzo." 5 Pozzo was an important collector of paintings, but his interests were spread over many fields. He was deeply interested in the natural sciences, and was secretary to the Accademia dei Lincei at the time when Galileo, who was an important member of the academy, was in trouble with the papal authorities over his Copernican doctrines. He was a keen student of botany and geology, and possessed important collections of drawings in these fields, many of which survive. He was in touch 4. Cf. Somers-Rinehart, "Poussin et la famillc dal Pozzo," p. 23.

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5. IV, p. 480.

NICOLAS POUSSIN with men of learning in various parts of Europe, and the vast quantity of letters that he received from them proves the variety of his interests.6 Outside the scientific field his real passion was for the study of ancient art and life. He was the initiator of a new approach toward classical archaeology, more scientific than had been practiced hitherto,7 but the real impulse in his study of antiquity was imaginative rather than pedantic. His aim was to penetrate the spirit of the ancient world, to discover the real meaning of its art, its literature, and its thought, and to reconstruct a picture of what life must have been like in Greece and Rome. Pozzo was not a rich man and, although as secretary to the all-powerful Cardinal Francesco Barberini he had every chance of making a successful career, he deliberately kept out of papal court life, through which he might have attained considerable power and wealth, and instead devoted himself to his studies. He was not, therefore, able to form a collection comparable to those formed in the seventeenth century by great families such as the Borghese or the Barberini, and though he possessed a certain number of ancient marbles, the unique feature of his collection was his "Museo Cartaceo," a vast accumulation of drawings after ancient works of art. To build up this collection he employed a band of artists, among whom were Poussin, Duquesnoy, and Pietro Testa, to make drawings of every scrap of material bearing on antiquity. To these he added, when he could find them, drawings of the same type by sixteenth-century artists, and the whole he arranged in volumes under subjects. One section, for instance, dealt with ancient dress, one with religious customs, one with feasts, one with military matters, one with games, and so on.8 Fortunately the greater part of these drawings survive,^ and although their arrangement has to some extent been changed, it is still possible to see the collector's purpose. The range of sources on which they are based is enormous, for they include not only copies after ancient sculpture and architecture, but complete drawings of the columns of Trajan and Marcus Aurelius, and watercolor copies of frescoes, mosaics, such as those from the Temple of Fortuna at Palestrina (fig. 250a-/), and manuscripts, including the Vergil and Terence in the Vatican Library. Finally, Pozzo had an extensive library of classical literature and of recent writings on archaeology. In fact, he built up what we might call an institute for research in classical archaeology, but what was for him rather a temple in which antiquity could be worshiped. Cassiano dal Pozzo and his friends seem to have formed a closed group of enthusiastic students living apart from the main stream of political and ecclesiastical life, and pursuing their particular interests in peace and quiet; and it was into this haven that Poussin was drawn after his illness and his disappointments over the St. Erasmus and San Luigi dei Francesi. 6. Mrs. Somers-Rinehart has discovered his voluminous correspondence. The geological drawings are in the Royal Library at Windsor: the other scientific drawings are scattered. Mrs. Somers-Rinehart has also found a list made in 1714 of the library belonging to the Pozzo family. 7. Cf. Vermeule.

8. Baldinucci (III, p. 479) describes five volumes of drawings. 9. Most of them are in the Royal Library at Windsor, though two volumes are in the Department of Greek and Roman Antiquities in the British Museum. The archaeological volumes include drawings after medieval works, notably frescoes and mosaics.

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THE 1630's Poussin, as we have seen, had painted various works for Pozzo in the 1620's, though only two are now identifiable. Hannibal Crossing the Alps (pi. 7) illustrates with great vividness several of the collector's special interests. The subject might well have been chosen by any patron with a taste for ancient history, but it is evident from the work itself that the feature in the story that attracted both artist and patron was the opportunity to depict a huge elephant, which occupies most of the composition. It is drawn with great feeling, even if the anatomy is not altogether accurate. The interest of both Pozzo and Poussin in natural history is attested by the presence in Pozzo's collection of several large paintings of birds by Poussin, including one of an ostrich,10 and by a group of drawings in the Hermitage, probably dating from the 1620's. This consists of two drawings of camels (figs. 96, 97) and two of animals caparisoned for battle: an elephant — seen fullface and much more conventional than the one in the Hannibal — and a rhinoceros (figs. 98, 99). These two animals are shown mounted by an armed soldier — in the case of the rhinoceros a feat of considerable daring. 11 Poussin's painting in the first years of the 1630's was deeply influenced by the atmosphere created in the circle of Cassiano dal Pozzo, and this effect is most immediately visible in his choice of subjects. Up to this time his themes had covered a fairly wide range, and included many of those usual in Roman art of the period. It is true that his emphasis on Old Testament subjects was exceptional, but he also painted religious pictures of a more popular type, like the St. Erasmus, the Virgin Appearing to St. James, and the Assumption. The themes of ancient history that he had treated were not uncommon in the decoration of many Roman palaces, and even the theme of Children's Bacchanals is to be found on the stucco frieze round the gallery of the Palazzo Mattei di Giove, dating from the early 1620's. The only subjects treated by Poussin which stand apart from the general run of contemporary art are the poetical-allegorical themes, such as the Parnassus, the Inspiration of the Poet, and Bacchus-Apollo, all of which were probably painted for the circle around Marino and Pozzo. From now on, however, these poetical subjects dominate Poussin's art. His favorite source is Ovid's Metamorphoses, and his themes are the loves of the gods which are recounted there: Venus with Mars, Adonis, or Mercury; Diana and Endymion; Apollo and Daphne; Mercury and Herse; Echo and Narcissus; Cephalus and Aurora. The theme of love is a steady undercurrent in all the paintings of the early 1630's, but they are the reverse of erotic. They are, indeed, rather elegiac, and the burden of Poussin's song is the unhappiness of love rather than its physical charms. Sometimes the happiness of the lovers is interrupted by death, as with Venus and Adonis, or by the intervention of the gods, as with Diana and Endymion; sometimes the passion is unrequited, as with Cephalus and Aurora, Narcissus and Echo, 10. Cf. Haskell-Rinehart, p. 324, No. 12, p. 325, Nos. 68, 90, 91. Pozzo's volumes of scientific drawings contained many of birds and animals. 11. The figure on the rhinoceros is like one in the Battle

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of Zatna from the Scipio series of tapestries woven from designs by Giulio Romano and his assistants for Francis I, of which the preparatory drawing is in the Louvre (cf. E. R. d'Astier, La belle Tapisserye du Roy, Paris, 1907, pi. XIII).

96. Poussin. Camel. Hermitage Museum. Leningrad

97. Poussin. Camel. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad

98. Poussin. Soldiers on an Elephant Hermitage Museum, Leningrad

99. Poussin. Soldier on a Rhinoceros Hermitage Museum. Leningrad

100. Guercino. Venus and Adonis. Destroyed, formerly Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden

or Apollo and Daphne. Even when, as with Mars and Venus, tragedy does not intervene, nothing could be less sensual than the treatment invented by Poussin. These are not the fleshly lovers of Rubens, but ethereal figures living in a world of poetry.12 Though less extreme than the contrast with Rubens, the difference is also marked between Poussin's treatment of Ovidian love stories and those of an Italian contemporary such as Guercino. If we compare their two versions of the death of Adonis, Guercino's (fig. 100) is essentially a human tragedy told, admittedly, in formal rhetorical terms, whereas Poussin's (pi. 51) seems almost a religious ritual, in which the sensual elements are minimized. 12. This view is not shared by all critics of Poussin. Hazlitt (Criticisjjis on Art, 1844, p. 198) writes: ?fRubens*s Satyrs and Bacchantes have a more jovial and voluptuous aspect, arc more drunk with pleasure, more full of animal spirits and riotous impulses: they laugh and bound along — Teaping like wanton kids in pleasant spring:' but those

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of Poussin have more of the intellectual part of the character, and seem vicious on reflection, and of set purpose. Rubens's are noble specimens of a class; Poussin's are allegorical abstractions of the same class, with bodies less pampered, but with minds more secretly depraved." (Cf. also his Criticisms on Art, 1843, p. 15.)

NICOLAS POUSSIN The Kingdom of Flora (pi. 65), like the Triumph, sums up the Ovidian stories of metamorphosis but in a different mood. The cast is almost the same: on the left, Ajax running himself through with his sword; in front, to his right, Echo and Narcissus: and behind them, Clyde gazing up at Apollo; on the right, in the foreground. Crocus and Smilax: and standing behind them, Hyacinthus and Adonis. The scene takes place under the aegis of three deities: Apollo, who drives across the sky in his chariot; Flora, who dances in the middle surrounded by amorini; and Priapus, the god of gardens, who is represented by the horned lierni on the left. The presence of the sun god and the god of fertility give a gaiety to the painting which contrasts with the melancholy of the Triumph. This mood is reflected in the light, which in the Kingdom is clear noonday as opposed to the twilight of the Triumph, and in the exquisite linear harmony of the design, based on a complex balancing of diagonal movements, a device not generally used by Poussin till the end of the 1630's. Poussin evidently took great pains in the working out of this composition, which seems to have been in his mind for some years. The preliminary sketch for it at Windsor (fig. 101) must from its style go back to about I625-27. 13 It is such a clumsy affair that a lot of work must have gone into the development of the design, and some time must have passed between this stage and the final painting. One step m this evolution is presented by another drawing at Windsor (fig. 102), which is much more finished than the first but weak in detail, and is perhaps a fair copy executed by a studio hand. The artist has altered the setting by the introduction of the rocky bind, instead of the left-hand part of the pergola, and has enlarged the space and pushed the chariot of Apollo farther up and away into the sky; but the figures are still heavy, and there is none of the play of diagonals so effective in the final composition, which Poussin seems only to have approached gradually, no doubt when he received the commission for the actual painting. If Valguarnera ordered it on the basis of the finished drawing, he must have been surprised and delighted with the painting as it was finally delivered to him. In some of these Ovidian paintings by Poussin there are allegorical allusions which, although their content is erotic, yet emphasize the detachment of the theme from the senses. The Venus and Adonis, for instance, now in Providence, Rhode Island (pi. 34), is in its treatment of the two lovers one of Poussin's frankest inventions. But the spectator's attention is to some extent drawn away from the principal group by the scene on the left, which occupies almost a third of the composition and shows a group of putti catching a hare, while other putti round the chariot of Venus stretch out their arms toward it, and the two hounds strain their leashes to get at it. This is a direct reference to the Erotes described by Philostratus (cf. fig. 103), in which the author describes a group of cupids trying to catch a hare, an animal, he tells us, loved by Venus because, unlike other animals, it is capable of the act of love at all seasons of the year, and the female seeks to become 1.3. A rough sketch for the Ajax m the pose which he has in the Windsor drawing is on the verso of the Fit/.williani drawing for the Bacollo (cf. Blunt, "A Mythological Painting").

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101. Poussin. The Kingdom of Flora. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

102. Studio of Poussin. The Kingdom of Flora. The Royal Library. Windsor Castle

103. The Erotes, illustration in Blaise tie Vigenere's Tableaux de Philostrate pregnant again as soon as she has borne a litter.14 By this allusion Poussin transports the whole story to the world in which Cassiano dal Pozzo and his friends were at home, the world of classical allegory rather than that of physical reality. In some of these paintings the myth is used to convey a positive moral, as, for instance, in the Venus and Mercury, which now exists cut in two parts, one in the Louvre (pi. 33a), and the other in Dulwich (pi. 33b). The original form of the composition is preserved in a drawing (fig. 104) and can be reconstructed as in figure 105. In this case Venus is the goddess of beauty rather than the goddess of love, and Mercury is shown as the protector of the arts, surrounded by books, a lute, and a palette. The real theme of the painting is given by the two putti wrestling in the foreground. One is winged, whereas the other has goat's feet, that is to say, they are the well-known symbols of Eros and Anteros, or poetical and sensual love. On the left stands a putto holding out two laurel wreaths 14. Cf. also, Pliny Naturalis hisloria 7. 9 and 8. 81. The theme of Philostratus (Imagines 1. 6) is also used by Titian in the Feast of Venus. It also occurs in a drawing

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attributed to the school of Giulio Romano (Albertina, 14188). A drawing of the subject by Jacques Stella is also known (Vienna, Academy. 4299).

104. Poussin. Venus and Mercury. Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris

105. Reconstruction photograph of Ponssin's Venus and Mercury

106. Poussin. Venus, Cupid, and Van. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

107. Hellenistic Sculpture. Pan. Venus, and Cupid. National Museum, Athens

for the victor, while behind him is a group of children playing musical instruments. Evidently the composition is an allegory of the superiority of the intellectual and artistic pursuits over purely sensual pleasures, expressed in the victory of true love or love of beauty over sensual love. It is also a sort of "Education of Cupid," since the god of love was the son of Venus by Mercury. The same idea of the triumph of spiritual over physical love is the theme of several drawings (cf. fig. 106), in which Poussin shows Cupid defending his mother Venus from the assaults of a bearded, goat-footed Pan. These drawings are based on the well-known tag, "Omnia vincit amor," which in the later Renaissance had been punningly changed to "Amor vincit Panem," on the grounds that Pan is not only the name of the goat-footed god but also the Greek for omnc, all. 15 In this form it had been illustrated, for instance, by the Cavaliere d'Arpino in a composition known from an engraving (fig. 108), 16 and by Agostino Carracci in a composition in the Farnese Gallery.17 Poussin no doubt knew both these models, and Arpino's version seems to have influenced another of his compositions known in a drawing (fig. 109) and a fragment of the original painting, 15. The theme, which goes back to Hellenistic sculpture (fig. 107), also occurs in the painting at Cleveland attributed to Poussin but nearer to P. F. Mola (cf. Exposition Poussin [Louvre], No. 33: Blunt, "Poussin Studies XI," p. 400: and Schaar). 16. The engraving, by Jakob Matham, is inscribed:

Natnram quoque vincit amor: nam cernitis olim Vt Pan aligcro cesscrit ipse Deo. 17. Hans Tietze, "Annibale Carraccis Galerie im Palazzo Farnese und seine romische Werkstiitte," Jahrhuch dcr kiinstlustarise lien Sammlungcn des allerhdclistcn Kaiscrhanscs, XXVI, 1906-7, p. 83.

no

108. After Cesari d'Arpino. Amor vincil Pancm. Engraving by Jakob Matham

109. Poussin. P//M/ Fighting on Goats. Ecole des Beaux-Arts. Paris

110. Poussin. Nova Nupta (?). The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

now unfortunately cut down on all sides (pi. 55). The drawing shows two nymphs watching a pair of putti charging each other, mounted on goats. One of the nymphs holds a wreath for the victor, like the corresponding figure in Arpino's design and like the putto in Poussin's Venus ami Mercury.18 The power of love is also represented in a small painting of putti playing with leopards (pi. 73), in which the two animals are so daunted by the cupids that one rubs its head afTectionately against the other, while the second allows one of the putti to put a bit in its mouth. The painting is a fragment of a larger composition, almost certainly of a Nova Nnpta executed for Cassiano dal Pozzo, which is known from two drawings (figs. 110, 111). 19 The complete composition represents a marriage scene in the Roman manner, a subject that was known in the seventeenth century from many examples, of which the most famous was the fresco of the Aldobrandini Wedding (fig. 112), to which the theme of Omnxa vincit amor is obviously appropriate. The action of the two 18. The precise theme in this case is not quite clear, hecause neither of the putti is goat-footed; in the drawing

one is winged and one not, hut in the painting even this distinction is eliminated since hoth are winged. 19. CR, III. pp. 21f, Nos. 181, 182.

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111. Poussin. Nova Nu{)la (?). The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

112. Roman Painting. The Aldobrandini Wedding. The Vatican

THE 16.30's putti recalls the passage in "Aphrodite and Eros," in Lucian's Dialogues of the Gods (12), in which Cupid says to his mother, "I am used to lions by this time. I often get on their hacks and take hold of their manes and ride them about; and when I put my hand into their mouths they only lick it and let me take it out again." In some paintings of this group the erotic theme is entirely absent, and the intention is directly allegorical. The most celebrated of such works is the Arcadian Shepherds at Chatsworth (pi. 56). The idea of the painting is clear, though its exact interpretation has given rise to lengthy and not always profitable discussion. A group of shepherds and shepherdesses in the idyllic land of Arcadia suddenly come upon a tomb above which is a skull and on which they decipher the inscription Et in Arcadia ego. This shocks them into recognition of the fact that even in complete happiness death is ever present. The painting is in keeping with the idea behind many of Poussin's elegiac paintings of this phase, and its poetical mood imposes itself deeply. As an evocation of the ephemeral quality of human happiness it is as moving as Villon's lament on the passing of human beauty, "Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan?" It does not, like many of Poussin's later works, inculcate a moral principle; it provokes meditation on the frailty of things human. This picture was not painted to stand alone. It was designed with a pendant, which represents Midas washing in the Pactolus (pi. 57). This foolish king, who was offered by Bacchus the gratification of any wish, asked that everything he touched be turned to gold. When he found that all his food turned to gold, he went back to Bacchus, who told him that if he washed in the source of the river Pactolus, he would lose the gift. Here again the allegory is clear. Just as the Arcadian Shepherds taught the frailty of human happiness, so this picture teaches the futility of riches. Poussin had already painted the last episode of the story in the painting now at Ajaccio (pi. 61), which shows Midas sitting by the source of the Pactolus and watching a youth picking out of the water the grains of gold which the river produced since taking from Midas the gift which he had so imprudently asked of Bacchus. In another painting of this period Poussin depicted the story of Apollo and Daphne (pi. 32). Once again the moral is not difficult to decipher: the love of human beauty leads to disappointment just as much as the pursuit of wealth, and a man is foolish if he puts his faith in either, a view which shows that Poussin was approaching his later Stoical detachment from the things of the world. At this stage, however, he has no positive alternative to offer; "dust and ashes"' is the burden of his song. It has always been assumed that these Ovidian compositions are straightforward poetical renderings of the familiar stories from the Metamorphoses, but the allegories interwoven with such themes as the Bacchus-Apollo or the Venus and Mercury might make one suspect that the artist had a more complicated intention, and an analysis of the pictures confirms this suspicion. Poussin's use of hidden meanings is most revealingly exemplified in the Venus zcitli the Dead Adonis (pi. 51). One of the most curious features of this painting is the resemblance it bears to 114

113. After Martin de Vos. The Death of Adonis. Engraving by Crispin de Passe. 1602 the Lamentation in Munich (pi. 50) in which the figure of Christ is. in reverse, very nearly identical with the dead Adonis. The putti are similar in type and pose; the Venus could almost be a Magdalen; and the landscape with the setting sun has exactly the same character in the two paintings. This similarity is not only to be found in Poussin's rendering of the subject, for the engraving (fig. 113) in the French translation of Ovid, published in 1622, which was a possible source for some of the Marino drawings, might almost be a Pieta. Moreover, Poussin has chosen an unusual moment in the story of Venus and Adonis for his painting. An artist like Guercino, whose interest lies in the love tragedy, normally depicts the moment when Venus comes upon the body of her lover killed by the boar (fig. 100): but Poussin has selected a later part of the story, and shows Venus pouring nectar into the wound of Adonis, from the blood of which springs the scarlet anemone, the flower in which his memory was immortalized. Now, the myth of the death and rebirth of Adonis, symbolizing the death of nature in winter and its rebirth in spring, became a widespread image for death and resurrection in general.20 The cult of Adonis and its implications were certainly well known to Poussin, for they are discussed at length in On the Syrian Goddess, a work traditionally ascribed to Lucian, which was widely read in the seventeenth century. Moreover, the parallel between Christ and Adonis would have appealed to Poussin's friends, who were much interested in this kind of comparative religion. Several treatises on Oriental religions appeared at this time, and there are strong traces of syncre20. St. Jerome Commentaria in Ezechielem 3. 9. This passage is quoted in the sixteenth century by Paganino

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Gaudenzio (Delia Disitnita Arcademica Accrescimento, Pisa, 1644, p. 28). Cf. also, Cartari, p. 449.

NICOLAS POUSSIN tism in the writings of Marino. Gerald Ackerman has recently pointed out the importance of his Diccric sacrc, published in Turin in 1614, and quotes in particular the following passage from the Mnsica: We find symbolized in the goo's, somewhat imperfectly, but after a fashion: the Trinity in Janus, the creation of man in Prometheus, the revolt of the Angels in the Giants, Lucifer in Phaeton, Gabriel in Mercury, Noah in Deucaleon, Lot's wife in Niobe, . . . the flood in Atlantis, the Incarnation in Danae, the love of Christ in Psyche, the battle with the devil in Hercules, . . . the Resurrection of the dead in Aesculapius, the Passion in Attis, the descent into Hell in Orpheus, . . . the Assumption in Ariadne . . . and a thousand and one other falsehoods are applicable to the truth, as diligent study of their brevity will reveal.21 Another theme in the Mnsica to which Ackerman calls attention is the analogy between Pan and Christ as the Word Incarnate.22 The half-human, half-animal god is a traditional symbol for the Redeemer, who is both flesh and spirit, and Poussin must almost certainly have known the theme not only in Marino but also in the form given to it by Rabelais in the celebrated passage in the fourth book, in which the author tells the story, recorded by Plutarch,2'' of the pilot Thamus who was told by a mysterious voice that, when he reached Palodes, he should cry out toward the land, saying that the great god Pan was dead, and, on his doing so, "deep groans, great lamentations, and doleful shrieks, not of one person, but of many together, were heard from the land." This incident was said by Plutarch to have happened in the reign of Tiberius, that is to say, at the time of the Crucifixion of Christ, and Eusebius, who quotes it.24 takes it to symbolize the fact that the death and resurrection of Christ meant the death of all pagan gods. Rabelais inverts the symbolism and identifies Pan, "all" and "the great shepherd." with Christ, the Good Shepherd: For my part, I understand it of that great Saviour of the faithful, who was shamefully put to death at Jerusalem, by the envy and wickedness of the doctors, priests, and monks of the Mosaic law. And methinks, my interpretation is not improper; for he may lawfully be said in the Greek tongue to be Pan. since he is our all. For all that we are, all that we live, all that we have, all that we hope, is him, by him, from him, and in him. lie is the god Pan, the great shepherd, who, as the loving shepherd Corydon affirms, hath not only a tender love and affection for his sheep, but also for their shepherds. At his death, complaints, sighs, fears, and lamentations were spread through the whole fabric of the universe, whether heavens, land, sea or hell. The time also concurs with this interpretation of mine: for this most good, most mighty Pan, our only Saviour, died near Jerusalem, during the reign of Tiberius Caesar.25 21. P. .3.33 (Dnerie 22. P. 333.

sacre, p. 102).

2.3. De defertii oranilorum (Moralia) 419B. 24. Prae[)aratio evangelira 5. 17. 25. Gargftntna and I'antagntel. tr. T. Urquhart and P. A. Motteux, Book IV, cli. 28. This identification of Pan

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with Christ is not uncommon in the sixteenth century (cf. M. A. Screech. "The Death of Pan . . . in the

Fourtli Book of Rabelais." Bibl'wlheqite d'hiimamsme el renaissance. Travaitx ct doeumenls [Geneva], XVII, 1955. pp. 36fl).

THE 1630's A similar approach to the problems of religion and mythology is to be found in a later writer certainly influenced by the ideas current among Poussin's friends, the collector Lomenie de Brienne. In describing the artist's Finding of Moses he writes, "He is Moses, the Mosche of the Hebrews, the Pan of the Arcadians, the Priapus of the Hellespont, the Anubis of the Egyptians." 26 It is clear, therefore, that syncretism as a mode of thought came naturally to members of the circle in which Poussin moved, and there can be little doubt that the Adonis was intended as a symbol of death and resurrection; but it seems possible to go further than this and to suggest, generally speaking, that Poussin's whole use of stories concerning the metamorphosis of human beings into flowers has something of the same significance. It is remarkable that among the many paintings devoted to stories from Ovid, not one deals with a person transformed into an animal, a bird, or a rock, whereas in the Kingdom of Flora Poussin showed every character mentioned in the Metamorphoses who was changed into a flower. Further, this painting follows in detail the list of such transformations given by Ovid in the Fasti in his description of the Floralia, or feast in honor of Flora, celebrated by the Romans in the month of May.2? It is true that Pozzo and his friends had a particular interest in the cultivation of flowers;28 but this is not a sufficient explanation of Poussin's choice, and I believe that it has a more profound meaning. The story of Areas transformed into a bear, or Arachne into a spider, would have no meaning in terms of an allegory of death and regeneration, and it is for this reason that Poussin did not choose to paint them. The Triumph of Flora and the Kingdom of Flora, on the other hand, could be not merely anthologies of Ovidian stories but composite allegories on the death and rebirth which is constantly going on in nature. Some confirmation for this view is to be found in the fact that in both paintings Adonis is accompanied by Hyacinthus, another symbol of resurrection, of whom Ovid writes: "You are immortal: as often as spring drives winter out and the Ram succeeds the watery Fish, so often do you come up and blossom on the green turf."29 Priapus, moreover, is the symbol of fertility as well as the god of gardens, and Apollo, as the sun, is the source of life in plants, of whose vitality Flora is the imaged Just as the seed produced from the dead flower leads to new life, so the human beings who have died for love of a god are brought to new life in another form, that of flowers. This interpretation would account for the tone of the picture, which is at first sight puzzling, for, though each individual story told here ends in tragedy, the feeling of the painting is one of calm and even of happiness. It would also be in accordance with the intentions of Ovid himself as they are set out in the first and last books of the Metamorphoses. In the first book he says that he is going to "tell of bodies 26. Thuillier, "Pour un 'Corpus Pussinianum,' " p. 213. 27. Cf. Kauffmann, "Beobachtungen," p. 96. 28. Cf. Somers-Rinehart, "Poussin et la famille dal Pozzo," pp. 26f. Pozzo had a villa near Nervi, where he cultivated flowers and fruit, and his scientific drawings included a large botanical section.

29. Metamorphoses 10. 164. 30. For the connection of Flora — and more specifically the Floralia — with the idea of fertility, cf. Ovid Fasti 5. 183ff; W. Warde Fowler, The Roman Festivals of the Period of the Republic, London, 1899, pp. 9Iff; and Held, pp. 203ff.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN changed into new forms," starting from the beginning of the world when all was chaos. The first change that he describes is the process by which harmony is evolved from this chaos, "by some god or kindlier nature"; land is separated from sky, sea from land, the four elements take up their proper positions, the earth is given shape, animals are created, and, finally, as the culmination of creation, man appears on earth. In this account, change is for Ovid the evolution imposed on chaos by the laws of nature. In the last book the philosophical thesis is stated more clearly and in a slightly different form. Here Ovid deals with the other kind of change, the metamorphosis of human beings into plants or animals, and he takes these transformations as illustrations of the Pythagorean doctrine of metempsychosis or reincarnation, according to which a man's soul may pass into the body of an animal and then go down into a lower form of life, or rise gradually, so that it is eventually reincarnated in the body of another man. It has often been pointed out that the first and last books of the Mctamorphoscs do not seem to have a very close connection with the intervening sections of the poem; but it is possible to read the whole work as an exposition of a philosophical system, and it is probable that it was so interpreted in the circle of Cassiano dal Pozzo, where enthusiasm for the natural sciences was combined with love of literature and interest in speculative philosophy.31 It is therefore likely that in painting his two compositions in honor of Flora and in his other Ovidian paintings, Poussin was consciously referring to the ideas of resurrection and reincarnation as they appear in the introduction and conclusion to the Metamorphoses. The idea of flowers being symbols for resurrection was not, of course, purely pagan, but had existed for many centuries in Christian legend and iconography. The use of flowers at funerals, for instance, is derived from this tradition, and the lilies found by the Apostles in the tomb from which the Virgin rose to Heaven have the same significance.^ The Kingdom of Flora seems originally to have been planned as part of a series. The preparatory drawing at Windsor has a pair representing the story of Perseus and Andromeda (fig. 114), which is repeated in a fair copy (fig. 115) like that of the Flora. A third fair copy of the same kind shows Venus and Adonis hunting (fig. 116). The program behind the three drawings is not easy to define, but the two last-mentioned compositions are both concerned with transformations. Bellori gives the Venus and Adonis Hunting a second title, La Tintura dclla rosa, and explains that Poussin was alluding to the legend according to which the rose was colored by the blood of Venus, .31. Ovid is quoted as an authority on metempsychosis by Paganino Caudenzio in De Vytliagoraea animarum transmigralione opusculum, Pisa, 1641 (page 6, ch. IV). For a full account of Ovid's Pythagoreanism. see G. Lafaye. Lcs Metamorphoses d'Ovide, Paris. 1904, ch. X. The doctrine was revived in the sixteenth century by Bruno and in the seventeenth century by Van Helmont. In view of the later development of Poussin's thought, it is worth noticing

that Ovid works into his philosophical system many elements of Stoic cosmology, probably borrowed from Posidonius (cf. ibid., pp. 196fT). 32. I am very grateful to Mr. M. Q. Smith for pointing out to me this analogy with Christian usage, and for calling my attention to various other iconographical details in this and later chapters,

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THE 1630s who pricked her foot on its thorn. The story is known in ancient and Renaissance literature in various forms, but Poussin's version does not quite correspond with any of them: Bellori is certainly right in his general interpretation of the drawing, for the artist has shown in the foreground at the feet of Venus a group of putti gathering roses. The ritual character of the scene is emphasized by the altar with a garland and a bear's head, which was sometimes dedicated to Diana, 33 and there is a reference to the death of Adonis in the boar visible in the left background. The drawing of Perseus is also given a second title by Bellori, La Tintura del corallo, and this calls attention to the fact that Poussin has chosen to depict a moment in the story rarely selected by painters, although it is described by Ovid 34 and Philostratus. The composition shows Perseus washing the blood off his hands after killing Medusa and delivering Andromeda from the monster to which she was being handed over. On touching dry land, Perseus laid the severed head of Medusa on the seaweed at the water's edge, which was turned into hard red coral by the Gorgon's blood. This story was given various allegorical interpretations in late antiquity. Isaac Tzetzes, for instance, who is quoted by Blaise de Vigenere in his edition of Philostratus,35 which Poussin certainly used, turns the story into an allegory for the movement of the sun, in which Perseus himself is the sun, Medusa is fresh water, Stheno and Euryale are the sea, Pegasus is rain, and Chrysaor is fire,™ One feature that occurs in two of these drawings deserves particular mention: the nymph who squeezes water out of her hair in both the Perseus and the Venus and Adonis Hunting. At first sight this figure might be taken as simply tressing her hair, but in the fair copy of the Perseus the action is perfectly clear, and Bellori defines it exactly in his account of the composition. In fact, it is probably a symbol of fertility connected with Venus Anadyomene, and more particularly with Venus as identified with the Oriental goddess Astarte. The clearest expression of the idea is to be found much later in the lines of Alfred de Musset's Rolla: Ou Venus Astartt*. fille de l'oiide amere, Secouait, vierge encor, les larmes de sa mere, Et fecondait la terre en tordant ses cheveux. These lines were inspired by Chasseriau's painting exhibited in the Salon of 1839, but both artist and poet were certainly referring to a much older tradition, and Waldemar Deonna 37 and A. A. Barb 38 have shown that the act of squeezing water from the hair is *'un geste fecond," which .3.3. Ct". Zens. II. p. 146. .34. Metamorphoses 4. 740ff. The story was also represented by Claude in a painting now at Holkharn. executed in 167.3 for Poussiifs friend Cardinal Massimi (Liber Veritatis. No. 184). .35. Paris, 1614, p. 261.

.36. The subject of Perseus is used as an allegory for the element of water in Vasaris fresco in the stndiolo of Francesco de' Medici in the Palazzo Vecchio. 37. "Aphrodite a la coquille." Revue areheolo^lque, 5th scries, VI, 1917, pp. 397ff: VIII. 1918. pp. 205fT. 38. "Diva Matrix", JWCL XVI. 1953. pp. 205ff, particularly p. 220 note 80. and p. 230 note 200.

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114. Poussin. Perseus and Andromeda. The Royal Library. Windsor Castle occurs frequently in magical amulets of a type that aroused much interest in the seventeenth century and may well have been known to Poussin.39 39. Miss Emmerling (p. 19) has pointed out that the figure in the Perseus is very close to one on an ancient gem (rep. ibid., pi. Ill), hut in this case it is not clear whether the gem had any magical intention or not. The same gesture occurs, however, on reliefs from a hot spring in Ischia dedicated to Apollo and having curative qualities. These reliefs, which are now in the museum at Naples (cf. L. Forti, "Rilievi dedicati alle Ninfe Nitrodi." Rendiconti della Aceademia Napoli, N.S. XXVI. 1951, pp. 161 f) were not excavated till after Poussin's death, hut it is possible that other similar ones were known in his time. In any case, the hot springs of Ischia were much studied in his day (cf. Paolo Buchner. Giulio lasolhw, Milan, 1958). The figure of a nymph wringing water from her hair occurs with surprising frequency in Poussin's work of all periods. To the examples already quoted should he added the Venus Bringing Arms to Aeneas of 1639 (pi. 126), the Rape of Enropa of 1649-50 (pi. 194). and Poussin's last painting, the Apollo and Daphne (pi. 251). In the Venus

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she appears with another naiad and a river god, who probably together signify the rich land of Latium which the hero was about to conquer. In the Europa the figure probably has the same significance of fertility as in the early works: its meaning in the Apollo and Daphne will be discussed in connection with the iconography of that picture. G. B. Marinella, the author of the manuscript catalogue of the Massimi volume of Poussin drawings at Windsor, in describing the drawing of the origin of coral in the volume, identifies the woman wringing out her hair as Cassiopeia, the mother of Andromeda, preparing for the competition in beauty with the nereids. But this explanation is not convincing, first, because Cassiopeia boasted not of her own beauty but of Andromeda's: secondly, it was this boast that brought on her family the vengeance of Neptune in the form of the monster which Perseus had just killed. Equally unconvincing is Marinella's identification of the man seated near her as Neptune.

115. Studio of Poussin. Perseus and Andromeda. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

116. Studio of Poussin. Venns and Adonis Hunting. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

NICOLAS POUSSIN Thus, all three compositions of this series refer to metamorphoses in one way or another: two deal with the mythical origin of natural objects — the red rose or the red coral — and the third sums up all the flower metamorphoses mentioned by Ovid.40 An allusion of a different kind to the idea of life after death is probably contained in the Pniii Flaying now in the Hermitage (pi. 12b). The child in the foreground is catching a butterfly, which is a well-known ancient symbol for the soul,41 and the one next to him is holding a bird, which has a similar meaning. The putti themselves, moreover, implied for the ancients a reference to the afterlife and symbolize in their activities the delight prepared for those who in their life have been initiated to the Dionysiac mysteries.42 It is more than likely that they have this meaning in the two Children's Bacchanals painted by Poussin before 1630 (pis. 8, 9), in which their actions are similar to those on Roman sarcophagi, all in imitation of Dionysiac rites: they carry a thyrsus or a branch of vine, they draw a chariot pulled by a goat and filled with masks, they decorate herms with garlands of flowers, they carry lekythoi or plunge into huge kraters. The presence of a Herm of Janus in one of the pictures suggests an allusion to the passage of time, and the palm tree may be, as it usually is, a symbol of fertility. There may be similar allusions in other mythological paintings of Poussin's early period, several of which refer to the cycles of nature, particularly to the alternation of day and night and the revolution of the seasons. In Phaetlum Begging flic Chariot of Apollo (pi. 69), for instance, we see the sun surrounded by the circle of the Zodiac and before him the four Seasons and the figure of Time himself; and both Diana and Endymion and Ccpliahis and Aurora allude to the day-and-night cycle, a point which is emphasized by the presence of Apollo in his chariot in the former (pi. 63), and the swan, the bird sacred to Apollo,4^ in one version of the latter (pi. 54). 4 4 Moreover, the story of Diana and Endymion was for the ancients a symbol of the sleep of death and the revival in paradise and was for that reason frequently represented on sarcophagi, some of which must have been known to Poussin and his friends.45 In a surprising number of cases, therefore, Poussin's mythological paintings dating from before about 1635 illustrate stories which in antiquity had some allusion to the cycles of nature, or to the 40. How closely the scientific ideas of Pozzo and his friends were interlocked with their interests in mythology is shown hy an inscription written on one of Pozzo's botanical drawings. All these have notes taken from Pliny indicating the botanical character of the plants and their medicinal qualities, but under one is written: "Hyacinth, which according to the poets was born from the blood of Ajax and in which are recorded the letters of his name," a reference to the AI believed to be visible in the markings on the petals (cf. Pliny Nattiralis historia 21.38). 41. E.g., in a relief in the Vatican (783), which shows on one side Bacchus visiting Icarius, and on another a putto holding a dead butterfly.

42. Cf. F. Cumont, "Un sarcophage d'enfant trouve a Beyrouth." Syria, X, 1929. pp. 217fF, and E. R. Goodenough. Jewish Symbols in the Greco-Roman Period, VIII. New York, 1958, pp. 7(F. 4.3. Callimachus Hymn io Delos 249(T, and Cartari, p. 47. 44. These cycles of nature were also used by Christian writers as analogies for death and resurrection, see below p. 3.33. 45. For the application of the story of Diana and Endymion as an allegory of death and resurrection, sec Marion Lawrence. "Three Pagan Themes in Christian Art," De Artihns Ofmscuta XL. Essays in Honor of Erwin Panofsky, cd. Millard Mciss, New York, 1961, 1, pp. 32.311.

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THE 1630's life after death, and, given the inclinations of the learned circles for which he worked, it is not unreasonable to suppose that he was aware of these implications, and that he or his patrons chose the subjects for that very reason. There is strong evidence, which in my opinion amounts to proof, that Poussin used mythology in this way during the last years of his life, and although the case is not nearly so clear in the early works, it is at any rate a tenable hypothesis, the more so because, as will be shown later in this chapter, the use of allegory in this spirit was widely advocated in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries in the writings of literary critics, with which Poussin was probably familiar. In the first half of the 1630's Poussin also painted scenes connected with Bacchus. One of these (pi. 60) represents the nurture of Bacchus and shows the god being fed by a satyr, a shepherd, and a nymph with juice squeezed from a bunch of grapes. In this case the dramatis personae can be clearly defined. According to Apollodorus,46 the infant Bacchus was handed over to Athamas and Ino, who had two sons, Laerches and Melicertes, no doubt the two children on the left of the picture. This story would account for all the human beings in the painting, the others, apart from the god himself, being the satyr and the winged Cupid, who leads in the goat, an animal sacred to Bacchus and perhaps the source of the milk given by the nymphs to Bacchus, according to some ancient writers.^? In another Bacchanal (pi. 68) Poussin takes up the theme of the Andrians described by Philostratus 48 and painted by Titian (fig. 57). Poussin has imitated certain features of Titian's version of the subject, particularly the man pouring out wine and the main group of figures drinking in the foreground; but he has been more explicit than Titian in following the description of Philostratus. The essence of the story is that, owing to the gift of Bacchus, the earth of the island of Andros is charged with wine, and this bursts out in the form of a river, from which the inhabitants drink. Both Titian and Poussin follow Philostratus' description of the river god lying on a couch of grape clusters, but, whereas Titian shows him as a very small figure in the background, Poussin gives him a much more prominent position on the left just behind the main group. He is attended by two youths, one of whom leads up the sacred goat, while the other pours a libation of wine.49 In this picture the association of Bacchus with the idea of fertility is brought out explicitly, the more so since the river god is given features that would normally be associated with Bacchus himself.50 In these Ovidian and allegorical paintings of the early 1630's, Poussin relies more than at any other period on Titian as a model. His color, his use of light, and his introduction of landscape 46. Bibliothaa 3. 4. 3. 47. Ci. Vergil Georgics 2. 450: and Ovid Fasti 1. 353. 48. Imagines 1. 25. 49. On the right reappears the putto hiding behind a satyr's mask (cf. above, pp. 66f).

50. The frequency with which the idea of fertility occurs in Poussin's paintings of this period may possibly be connected with the presence at this time in Rome and in Pozzo's circle of Tommaso Campanella, whose naturalist philosophy was to have an important influence on Poussin's late mythological paintings (cf. below, pp. 327ff).

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NICOLAS POUSSIN are all inspired by the Este Bacchanals, but Poussin never has the richness of composition that is so marked in Titian's Bacchanals. In fact, his compositional methods at this time are surprisingly simple. Usually the figures are strung out in profile view, forming a loosely constructed bas-relief pattern across the foreground, without defining any clear space; or they are placed on a single row leading diagonally into the picture, as with the Arcadia)! Shcplicrd.s. The landscape forms a back cloth, again without spatial definition and with no clearly defined relation to the figure group. For Poussin's purpose at this particular moment, clear spatial definition was not an object; indeed, if it had been too clear, it might have destroyed the mystery of the paintings. Sometimes Poussin makes direct borrowings from Titian. For instance, the Cephalus in the London Cepiialus and Aurora (pi. 29) is taken from the central figure of Titian's Bacchus and Ariadne (fig. 58),r>1 and the river god in the Louvre Andrians is based on a figure in the Feast of the Gods (fig. 55). On the other hand, if Poussin borrows freely from Titian, he puts his own interpretation on what he borrows. His compositions are simpler than Titian's and have a sharpness and a clarity derived from classical bas-reliefs which contrast with the richness of the Venetian painter's works. His color derives from Titian's but is purer and less broken, sacrificing richness and subtlety to simplicity. In his paintings there is more intellect and less poetry than in Titian's, and this difference is in conformity with the attitudes of the two artists toward their subjects. Titian is more influenced by Neo-Platonism than Poussin, who never paints a pure paean in praise of love as does Titian in the Feast of Venus (fig. 56). His themes are more closely related to the idea of nature, her harmony and fertility. With Poussin, the presiding deities are Priapus, Flora, and Apollo, but Apollo as the source of life in nature, not the symbol of beauty and truth. This may seem a relatively prosaicconception, but it contains depths of poetic feeling that were only explored in part by Poussin at this stage of his career. It was not till his last years that its full possibilities became apparent. It is impossible to establish a definite chronology in the series of Ovidian and Bacchic paintings which have been discussed, all of which were probably painted between 1629 and 1633. Some, such as the Venus and Adonis at Providence, or the Venus with the Dead Adonis at Caen, seem to belong to the early part of this period, since they have none of the precision of drawing, modeling, and design which marks the Kingdom of Flora of 1631. Others, like the Louvre Andrians or the Detroit Diaiia and Endymion, have precisely these qualities and probably date from 1631-32; but in many cases the stylistic evidence is conflicting, and it is wiser to leave the precise order of these works in suspense.r'2

51. Cf. Mulion. "Poussin and Venetian Painting,"' p. .'38. J52. The chronology of this phase of Poussin's painting has given rise to much discussion; cf. Mahon, ''Poussin's

124

Early Development" and "Poussin's Development"; and Blunt, "Poussin Studies XI."

117. Raphael. The Adoration of the Magi Logge, The Vatican T H E NEXT FIRM POINT

in the chronology of Poussin's works is the Adoration of the Magi at Dresden,

which is dated 1633 (pi. 74). The painting is strikingly different from any of Poussin's works of the immediately preceding years. The choice of a conventional religious theme may be in part due to the commission, but the change of style cannot be accounted for by external circumstances; and the change is indeed profound: mood, lighting, color, spatial arrangement, and figure grouping, all are different. Instead of a poetical theme rendered in Venetian coloring and somber lighting, we find a conventional story told in factual terms, seen in clear daylight, with fully modeled figures set in a clearly defined space. The foreground is filled with a group of figures, each conceived as a freestanding statue, occupying a stage in front of a ruined temple of which the stylobate forms a flat plane parallel with that of the picture. Behind this, the recession is defined by the beams which link the front columns with the plastered back wall. On the right, this lead into space is emphasized by the drum of a column, which draws the eye into the picture toward the background where we see the train of the three kings with their attendants, horses, and camels. The whole scene is illuminated by the sun, which serves to model forms and, by means of the cast shadows of the architecture, to emphasize the spatial construction. Here is nothing of the romantic twilight or the evocative atmosphere of the Ovidian elegies, and the influence of Titian has vanished. It is significant that Poussin has now turned to other and, one can almost say, opposite models: Raphael, Annibale Carracci, and Domenichino. Basically the design is taken from Raphael's rendering of the same subject on the vault of the Loggie (fig. 117). The Virgin sits on the left with the Child in her lap, and the kings kneel before her, filling the rest of the foreground. Poussin has, naturally, made variations from his model. 125

118. Annibale Carracci. The Adoration of the Magi. Galleria Doria-Pampliili. Rome

119. Domenichino. The Death of St. Ceeilia. San Luigi dei Francesi. Rome

THE 1630's Joseph, for instance, stands behind the Virgin, and both figures are moved to the extreme edge of the composition, their importance being emphasized by the column which leads to the top of the canvas above their heads. He has repeated this vertical emphasis in the second column over the three kings and in the pilastered block over the Negro attendant. Then he opens out the composition into a distant view, which is absent in Raphael's composition. It seems likely that Poussin combined the ideas that he took from Raphael with others taken from a source in the same tradition, the Adoration painted by Annibale Carracci for Cardinal Aldobrandini, now in the Palazzo Doria (fig. 118). Like Poussin, Annibale Carracci based his figure group on Raphael, but he transformed the whole conception by setting it in a wide landscape. He used, however, certain devices which seem to have been taken over by the younger artist. The column with the turbaned man standing beside it recurs with variations in Poussin's composition, and lie has taken the drum of a column, which Carracci uses to fill his foreground, and transferred it to the right-hand side to act as a lead into space toward the group of attendants, which is also, to a certain extent, a derivation from Carracci, who pushes his little figures into the valley on the right of his landscape. Other details show that Poussin was also studying Domenichino, whose presence in Rome in the winter of 1634/35 may have confirmed Poussin in his rejection of the Venetian mariner and his return to the tradition of Raphael and the Carracci, tendencies which mark his painting in the mid-thirties. The sharp, pointing gesture of the man in the right foreground in the Adoration has parallels in several of Domenichino's compositions — the Martyrdom of St. Andrew in Sant'Andrea della Valle and the Deatli of St. Cecilia in San Luigi dei Francesi (fig. 119) — and the turbaned man in front of the column appears in one of the frescoes at Grottaferrata. Moreover, the stagelike setting in front of the stylobate is a return to a device used by Domenichino — and earlier, by Giulio Romano — which Poussin had employed for the Dulwich Triumph of David (pi. 15), a painting which he probably took up and completed about this time, the first moment when it would have been possible for him to finish it in the style in which it was begun. The connections of the Dresden Adoration with Giulio Romano, Raphael, Annibale Carracci, and Domenichino are of importance because they are significant of a fundamental change which was taking place in Poussin's style at this time and which was to affect his whole career. In later years, according to his biographers, Poussin spoke of his early Venetian period as a sort of error of which he was almost ashamed. He had been deceived, he said, by the charms of color and the sensuous attractions of Venetian painting but later realized that these were superficial qualities and therefore he sacrificed color to drawing, and Titian to Raphael and the Antique. We may not agree with the judgment of values implied in such an assessment of his works, but this definition of the difference between his earlier and later styles touches on the essential point, and it is at this moment that the first signs of the change appear. Poussin's first experiments in the new style were relatively unambitious and consisted of com127

120. Peter Paul Rubens. Peasant Dance. Prado, Madrid positions involving few figures, such as a small Rest on the Flight into Egypt in the Oskar Reinhart collection in Winterthur (pi. 76), and the Return of the Holy Family from Egypt at Dulwich (pi. 36). Soon, however, he extended the idea to bolder schemes. The two celebrated paintings, the Crossing of the Red Sea and the Adoration of the Golden Calf (pis. 78, 79), must date from very soon after the Adoration of the Magi, but they show the artist dealing with altogether more complicated problems. In the Red Sea he cannot make use of architecture which, in the Adoration, had enabled him to establish the various steps in the recession, and instead, he constructs his foreground by means of a series of sculptural groups, which by the decrease in their scale and the degradation of their color lead the eye into the middle distance. At this point, Poussin establishes a sort of caesura by the insertion of a small ledge of rock, but he preserves spatial continuity by the chain of figures near the shore on the right, which moves up to the group standing on the ledge. These, by their various actions of dancing, praying, or playing musical instruments, give thanks to God for the miracle worked in their favor. The spatial logic is continued still further through the hills and along the coastline, ending finally in the great mass of black cloud that had hovered over the children of Israel since their departure from Egypt. The full meaning of the painting has been restored by the recent brilliantly successful cleaning, which has revealed once again the pillar of cloud on the extreme right, an element necessary to explain the action of Moses who turns to express his gratitude for the guidance of God, symbolized by the pillar. 128

121. Hellenistic Relief. T/i* Borghese Dancers. Louvre, Paris

The individual figures in the foreground show how completely Poussin has mastered the drawing and modeling of the late Raphael and Giulio Romano, and yet at the same time the painting preserves much of the beauty of color and handling that characterized the Titianesque paintings of the years 1629-32. The Golden Calf is equally bold, but in a different way. Here Poussin has attempted something that is very rare in his work, the depiction of figures in violent movement. The result is singular, particularly if we compare it with the treatment of a similar dancing group by a Baroque painter. In Rubens' Peasant Dance (fig. 120), for instance, the movement is continuous and leads from one figure to another, so that the rhythm of the whole dance sweeps across the canvas. In Poussin, the effect is the opposite; each figure performs its own separate action, each is in a pose of active movement, but the effect of the whole is static, as if the figures were frozen into marble. In certain respects this method is based on classical models. In a typical Roman rendering of dancing figures, such as the Borghese relief (fig. 121), which Poussin certainly knew, the figures each have an individual movement, which does not lead on to that of their neighbors, as in the Baroque version. The effect of dancing is given by the repetition of a pose with slight variations, which carries the eye through the group and produces a grave and contained rhythm. In Poussin's dance, however, each figure is in a different pose and, what is more important, each of them is at the extreme point of his action. In fact, their legs are at the one stage where they are not moving at all; they are at the end of a movement forward, just about to begin the back swing and thus at a moment of instantaneous rest. That is to say, Poussin has chosen the action which gives the clearest definition of the movement and marks its full extent, but one which does not give the impression of movement nearly so effectively as the moderate halfway pose of, say, the Borghese dancers. It is typical of Poussin — and foreshadows his highly rationalist art of the 1640's — that he should prefer what seems to be the logical statement of a movement to one which conveys the impression of movement to the eye. 129

122. School of Andrea Mantegna. Four Dancing Women. Engraving

123. Attributed to Giulio Romano. Apollo and the Muses. Palazzo Pitti, Florence

THE 1630's There are. however, precedents for such a treatment of movement. Mantegna, engravings after whose work Poussin is known to have possessed,53 used a method which is halfway between that of the Antique and that of Poussin. In the dancing group of the Parnassus, copied in engravings (fig. 122), the figures kick their legs higher than in the Borghese relief, but they do not create the right-angle bends on which Poussin's design is based. A closer parallel is to be found in the Apollo and the Muses in the Pitti, traditionally attributed to Giulio Romano (fig. 123), an artist whom, as we have seen, Poussin particularly admired at this time of his career.54 Here the figures kick their legs to the full extent, and the effect of frozen movement is almost like Poussin's painting. But in one respect, Poussin is more classical than Giulio in his treatment of the group. Giulio's figures move round a flattened oval, occupying a fairly deep space, whereas Poussin's are arranged so that they conform as far as possible to the pattern of a bas-relief. The woman on the right stretches her arm out in a plane parallel to the picture, her body is frontal, her head in profile, and her legs form a right-angled pattern in one plane. The same can be said of all the other figures in the group, and even the dancer, whom one would expect to break the bas-relief surface by passing under the joined hands of her two companions, manages to remain true to the relief pattern and disposes her legs in the necessary plane. In the Golden Calf Poussin not only introduces more movement than in the Adoration of the Magi, he also composes his figures into a much more elaborate and carefully calculated pattern. The dancers form an interwoven design of legs and arms, of which the main lines lead horizontally toward the principal figure, Aaron, who stands slightly to the right of the center beside the Golden Calf itself. Similarly, the gestures of the figures in the right foreground lead to the same focal point, with short jabbing movements, once again in the manner of Domenichino. The Red Sea and the Golden Calf contain many elements which were to be of increasing importance in Poussin's paintings of the middle and later 1630's. The interest in elaborate compositions made up of figures in action is further developed in the Louvre version of the Rape of the Sabincs (pi. 84), where the whole space formed by the architecture is filled with a mass of struggling groups brought into harmony by a careful balancing of movements. The tendency toward the painting of landscape visible in the Red Sea is further developed in a series of paintings in which natural scenery plays an increasingly important part. These paintings (e.g., pis. 96, 116, 128) will be discussed in a later chapter; here it will suffice to notice that in some of them Poussin has reduced the figures to such small scale that they play little part in the composition, which is entirely dominated by the forms of nature. Poussin's paintings of the early and middle thirties had mainly illustrated mythological themes, but on three occasions he treated subjects from ancient history. One of them, Theseus Finding His Father's Arms (pi. 100), illustrates a Greek history, but the other two both deal with the legends 5.3. The inventory of his effects taken after his death ineludes thirty-two engravings after Mantegna (cf. Delisle, p. 252).

54. A similar dance appears in the fresco called The Goal in the Sala dei Vend in the Palazzo del Te (cf. Hartt, II, fig. 196).

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124a. Poussin. The Death of Hippolytus. The Pierpont Morgan Library, New York

surrounding the early history of Rome. One, a much damaged canvas at Chantilly representing Numa Pompilius and the nymph Egeria (pi. 71), was probably painted for Pozzo before 1633, while the other, at Toronto, of Venus bringing arms to Aeneas (pi. 101), is to be dated later, about 1635; but in both, Poussin has delved into that border territory between mythology and history in which so many of the early stories about Rome take place. In the Aeneas, Venus is no longer Ovid's goddess of love who appeared in the early paintings with Mars or Adonis; she is Vergil's goddess who, in the later books of the Acncid, guides her son Aeneas, in the fulfillment of his destiny, to found the city of Rome. Moreover, the particular incident represented played an important part in this story, for it was by means of the armor made by Vulcan at the request of Venus that Aeneas was able to defeat Turnus in single combat and so establish himself on Italian soil.55 The story of Numa Pompilius retiring to take counsel with Egeria, a nymph of the grove of Diana at Ariccia, is well known,56 but is given a personal interpretation in this painting, because the king is shown plucking the Golden Bough of the grove, which no one could take unless he was guided by fate. The idea of destiny is, therefore, implicit in both these paintings, and is an early example of an influence which was to affect Poussin profoundly in the 1640's, that of Stoic philosophy. 55. Cf. Robert Schilling. La Religion romainc de Venus. Paris. 1954. pp. 363ff.

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56. Cf. Ovid Fasti 3. 259.

'cr ice, 1627). i'allegoria. Florence, n.d.), Jacopo Mazzoni (Delia Difeia 81. Cf. Zinano. op. cit.. p. 14. 82. See Appendix, pp. 361,366.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN piscence, these paintings take their place naturally alongside the Arcadiati Shepherds and the stories of Midas and prepare the way for the more explicitly philosophical paintings of the 1640's.83 The writings of the literary critics would also support the theory that Poussin had allegorical intentions in some of his mythological paintings, for Ovid is quoted by the critics as a poet who intended his works to be understood in this manner. 84 INFORMATION ABOUT Poussin's

activity in the last years of the 1630's is much more abundant than for

the preceding period, but it is not easy to interpret. To the year 1637, for instance, Felibien assigns five paintings, of which one, the Hercules and Deianira, is only known from drawings; 85 but all the others — Pan and Syrinx, Armida Carrying Off Rinaldo, the Louvre Camillas, and the EllesmereSutherland Moses — are executed in different manners. The Pan and Syrinx at Dresden (pi. 107fc) is probably the earliest, since it has many features in common with the paintings for Richelieu, particularly the blond color and the emphasis on diagonals, though in this case the spatial disposition is somewhat more complex, owing to the movement of the two putti in the foreground, which leads out of the picture and so forms a sort of countermovement to that of the main group. With this painting can be associated the Nurture of Jupiter at Dulwich (pi. 106), one of Poussin's most exquisite paintings for the delicacy of its formal harmony and the subtlety of its coloring, with its honey and aquamarine tones contrasted writh a deep blue in the dresses of the nymphs. The Clio ice of Hercules at Stourhead (pi. 107a), though harder in handling, has the same coloring and shares with the two paintings just discussed a peculiar treatment of foliage, in which the leaves are painted in minute touches, almost leaf by leaf, in a manner quite different from the broad handling of similar motives in works of a few years earlier. Much finer in quality than the Hercules, but having the sharpness of definition apparent in all these paintings, is the Adoration of the Shepherds in the National Gallery, London (pi. 110). This has in the sky an almost brassy color for the light on the clouds, which also occurs in the sky of the Hercules. A similar treatment of clouds lit by the sun appears in the Saving of the Infant Pyrrhns (pi. 112), though here the tone is coppery rather than brassy. To this group must be added the Barber Institute Taucrcd and Erminia (pi. 105), a less poetical version of the subject than the earlier painting in Leningrad, but with a brilliant effect of movement and countermovement in the placing and drawing of the horses. The Berlin painting of Rinaldo and Armida was, according to Felibien, also painted in 1637, and has much in common with the works of the preceding years, though the painting of the foliage is in accordance with the technique of the Pan and Syrinx. If these paintings, probably executed in the years 1636-37, are a sort of development out of the Richelieu Bacchanals, another group, which can be assembled round the Camillus and the 8.3. For an account of paintings by other artists illustrating themes from Tasso, see Lee: Waterhouse: Rouches, "L'lnterpretation du rRoland furieux' ": Argan: and Simpson. No artist, apart from Poussin. seems to have taken up the

allegorical implications of the Gernsalemme. 84. Cf. Zinano. op. cit., pp. 16rT, and Mazzoni, op. cit., I, pp. 826fF. 8.5. CR. III. p. .38. Nos. 218, 219, and A 63.

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THE 1630's Schoolmaster of Falcrii painted for Louis Phelypeaux de La Vrilliere in 1637 (pi. 121), forms an extension of the more dramatic history paintings of the mid-thirties. The second composition representing the rape of the Sabines (pi. 113), and the second Capture of Jerusalem (pi. 117) can be placed in this group, the former in particular having much in common from the point of view of color with the blond group round the Pan and Syrinx. The hardness of definition typical of this phase is to be seen in two other paintings, probably executed at the same time: the Melcager and Atalaiita in the Prado (pi. 115) and the Dance in Honor of Priapus in Silo Paulo (pi. 114). The last painting allotted by Felibien to the year 1637, Moses Striking the Rock, is almost certainly the Ellesmere-Sutherland painting (pi. 116). 86 By its great emphasis on the landscape element, it leads on to paintings of the following period and it is probably the latest of the group of works associated with the year 1637. Only one work can be definitely assigned to the year 1638, namely the small Finding of Moses in the Louvre (pi. 124). Its recent cleaning has made visible for the first time its very cool coloring, with a dominance of grays, quite different from that in Poussin's paintings even of 1637. The same coolness is, however, to be seen in works such as the Nurture of Jupiter in Berlin (pi. 123), the Venus Bringing Arms to Aeneas in Rouen (pi. 126), which Felibien dates to 1639, and the Israelites Gathering the Manna in the Louvre (pi. 128), finished in March 1639 but probably begun in 1637 or 1638. Two other paintings — the Dance to the Music of Time in the Wallace Collection (pi. 127) and Time Saving Truth from Envy and Discord known from a copy and a print (pi. 259) — can safely be assigned to the year 1639 on the grounds of their close similarity to the Venus at Rouen. During the last years of the 1630's Poussin seems to be moving toward a colder and more classical manner. The color becomes first blond in the paintings of 1636-37, and then almost gray in 1638-39. The forms become more monumental, as in the Berlin Jupiter, and finally almost frozen in their movements, as in the Rouen Venus, in which the goddess is a statue floating in the air almost without movement. Some of the mythological paintings of the later 1630's probably contain the same kind of allusions as the works of the first part of the decade. The allusion to fertility in the two Richelieu Bacchanals is evident, and the Triumph of Neptune may be a symbol for the creative power of nature if the reference to Lucretius' Venus Physica is accepted. There is a similar reference to the idea of fertility in the twice-painted theme of the nurture of Jupiter, for the milk and honey are familiar symbols for this idea.87 Moreover, the story leads up to the invention of the cornu86. For the problem of identification, see Catalogue, entry No. 22. S7. Nectar and ambrosia were originally forms of honey (cf. 7.cns, III, p. 496). Milk may have a more precise symbolism, because it is specifically connected with the idea of resurrection by Sallustius. whose De diis rl mnndo was first published in Rome in 1638, edited with a Latin translation by Leo Allatius (Leone Allacci) in a volume

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which also contained the moral sentences of Demophilus. Democrates, and Secundus, edited by Holstenius (Lucas Holste), librarian to Cardinal Francesco Barberini and a friend of Poussin. Milk and honey are also connected with the Good Shepherd in Christian allegory (cf. E. R. Goodeaough. Jewish Symbols in the Greco-Roman Period, VIII, New York, 1958, p. 85).

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'

138. Poussin. Hercules and Deianua. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

copia. which, according to some writers, was the horn of the goat Amalthea, who suckled the infant god.88 According to another version, the cornucopia was the horn of Achelous, which was broken off by Hercules in his fight with the river god for possession of Deianira. and was then filled with flowers and fruit by the nymphs and presented to Ceres.89 and this subject, also, was illustrated by Poussin in a drawing of about the same date (fig. 138). The Richelieu Bacchanals are primarily hymns in praise of the Bacchic mysteries, but they may contain an element of the syncretism mentioned earlier. If Pan is sometimes identified with Christ, the mysteries of Bacchus were frequently compared with those of the Christian religion. Bacchus was a source of life, and the legend that he was killed but that Ins member was carried away in a basket and became the source of new life is a clear symbol for the idea of death and resurrection. This legend is recorded by several early Christian writers 90 and is told at length by Blaise de Vigenere in his edition of Philostratus.91 The author goes on to emphasize the parallel between the mysteries of Bacchus and those of the Christian religion, particularly the Sacrament of 88. Cf. Ovid Fasti .3. 429. and 5. 111. For (lie bees, cf. also Vergil Georgjcs 4. 181. For the symbolism of the horn, cf. '/.ens, I, pp. 50Iff. 89. Ovid Metamorphoses 9. 85fT: cf. also. Cartari. p. 124. 90. Clement of Alexandria (Protreptinis 2. 19. 1-4),

Firmicus Maternus (De errore profatiarum religionum

6. 1—5). and Arnobius (Adversns quoted in Zens. I. pp. 107, 661. 91. Ed. tit., p. 8G4.

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nalioncs

5. 19), all

THE 1630's 9

Eucharist. ^ A further analogy is provided by the pomegranate, which is a common symbol for immortality in Christian art but which, according to Clement of Alexandria,93 sprang from the blood of Bacchus.94 In some of the paintings of 1639, however, a new type of subject matter becomes apparent. The Dance to the Music of Time is, according to Bellori, a sort of Wheel of Fortune, showing the four states — poverty, industry, richness, luxury — through which man passes in an eternal series of revolutions. On the right, Time plays the tune to which the dancers move, and in the foreground sit two putti, one holding an hourglass to symbolize the passage of time, the other blowing a bubble to indicate the ephemeral character of wealth and happiness. The Time Saving Truth belongs to the same category of painting and takes up a theme much treated in the seventeenth century.9^ Both these compositions were executed for Cardinal Giulio Rospigliosi, later Pope Clement IX, who was an important figure in the circle of Cardinal Francesco Barberini.96 As a young man he had been a student of letters, theology, and philosophy, and he was appointed to teach the lastnamed subject at the university of Pisa in 1623. Two years afterward, however, he came to Rome and formed part of the suite which accompanied Cardinal Francesco Barberini on his legations to France and Spain, on which occasions he would have been much in the company of Cassiano dal Pozzo. In the 1630's he made himself a place in the Barberini circle by his plays, which were written for the theater in the Palazzo Barberini. These were frequently set to music and included the Chi soffrc spcri, famous for the fact that among those attending its first performance in 1639 was Milton, at that time on a visit to Rome. Rospigliosi chose some of his themes from the history of the early church (S. Teodora, 1635; S. Bonifazio, 1638; S. Alcssio, 1639; and S. Enstachio, 1643), and, although their style has nothing of Poussin's classical simplicity, these plays have certain features in common with the researches which he was to carry out into early Christian history and liturgy for the two series of the Sacraments, on which he was at work during the same years. Rospigliosi's other works for the stage usually dealt with moral themes, usually in terms of classical allegory. Their titles — Chi soffrc spcri (1639), // Trionfo dclla picfd, and Lc Armi c gli amari (both 1655) — show that they belonged to the same mode of thought as the subjects in Poussin's paintings. In Chi soffrc spcri the principal figure is Hercules, for possession of whom Pleasure, 92. Cartari (pp. 341fl) actually refers to the "Sacraments Ovenius, Oralio quarla de Bacchanaliorum detestatione. of Bacchus." Rostock. 1614: Andreas Schroderen, Dc saltatoribns ct 93. Protrcptiais, 2. 16: cf. also, Zeus, III, p. 815. saliationilms platonicis vennstis, Flensburg, 1622; J. 94. German writers take a much more severe attitude Gagus. Bacchanalia abrogata, Frankfurt an der Oder, toward the mysteries of Bacchus than their contemporaries 162.3: Cornelius Marcus, Oralio dc Bacchanalibus, Altin Italy and France, and the late sixteenth and early dorf. n.d.: J. Nicolaus, Commentatio de ritu antiquo ct seventeenth centuries saw the publication of a series of Iwdicrno Bacchanaliorum, Holmstedt, 1679. German pamphlets against such pagan rites. Among these 95. Cf. Saxl. are: Nicolaus Calenus, In detestationem. originem, et 96. For an account of Clement IX, see G. Beam, Clemente ritum Bacchanaliorum, Marburg, 1591: S. Gesner, Oratio IX, Prato, 1893, and G. Canevazzi, Ta[ta Clemente IX de [>ersonis . . . Bacchantinm, Wittenberg, 1600; J. II. Pocfa, Modena, 1900.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN Idleness, and Virtue contend, almost as in the Choice of Hercules. In another case, the parallel is even closer. His play called Dal mal il beiie, produced in 1653, deals with the idea that out of apparent evil good may come. A contemporary critic, Gualdo Priorato, said that it illustrated the saying of Themistocles, who, having suffered banishment from Athens and finding himself well received and richly rewarded by Artaxerxes, king of Persia, said to his sons, "If we had not been undone, we should now be undone," a remark which Poussin himself was to quote in a letter a few years later. 97 The cardinal's taste in the arts seems to have been catholic, and he was a friend and admirer of Pietro da Cortona, Borromini, and Bernini, who designed the settings for some of his plays, as well as a patron of Poussin; but his admiration for the French artist is attested by Passcri, who records that he lamented the fact that Poussin had died before he became pope, since he would have wished to reward him adequately for his great merits as an artist.98 His relations with Poussin must have been interrupted by the artist's visit to Paris from 1640 to 1642 and by his own absence from Rome on a legation to Madrid from 1644 to 1653. and there is no indication that he patronized him after his return. Before the artist's departure for Paris, however, Rospigbosi apparently commissioned a Rest on the Flight into Egypt, formerly in the Palazzo Rospigliosi but now only known from engravings (pi. 2 5 6 ) . " This shows in the background an elephant, which might be thought to be a piece of local color to indicate that the scene is taking place in Egypt, but in fact, the elephant does not seem to have been so used and is generally associated with India rather than Africa in the seventeenth century.100 In the case of the Rest it is more likely to have a symbolical meaning, since it was frequently cited by ancient writers as the most religious of animals, and was used with this significance by Bernini and others in the seventeenth century.1°' Such a use would be completely in accordance with Cardinal Rospigliosi's interest in allegory. The greater seriousness of Poussin's work at the very end of the 1630's is most clearly apparent in the Sacraments painted for Cassiano dal Pozzo (pis. 130-136). This series was probably conceived and even planned in drawings about 1636, because a sheet of sketches for the Richelieu Triumph of Pan has on it a study for a mourning figure in the Extreme Unction.*®2 On the other hand, the paintings themselves appear to date from a slightly later period, and it is known from 97. Cf. below, pp. 168f. 98. Cf. Passeri. p. .3.31. 99. Andrescn 152. 100. Cf. Pliny Xaltnalis liisloria 8. 10. The elcpliant is also a regular feature in the Indian triumph of Bacchus. 101. Cf. W. S. Heckscher, Bernini s Elephant and Obclisk," Ah, XXIX. 1947. pp. 15511. The principal ancient sources for details about the elephant are Pliny (Xalitralis liistoria 8. 1) and Aelian {De tiahira animaliiim 4. 10 and 7. 44), both of whom emphasize its religious nature. Plutarch speaks of it in the same way. and his view is quoted in the seventeenth century, e.g., by Cuillaumc de

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Rebrcviettes. sieur dEscauvrcs in Ins Imjm'lf rombnliif par Irs iu/idclrs. Paris, 1612 (cf. J. B. Sabric. Dc I'luimaiiismc an ralioiialismc, Paris. 191.3. p. ,39(j). Ksca-uvrcs" book is an attempt to support the truth of the basic principles of the Christian religion by examples from pagan antiquity, a project which would have been m line with Poussin's thought. Montaigne ((Euvrrs cnniplflrs [Bibliothequc de la Pleiade], ed. A. Thibaudet and M. Rat. Paris, 1962. p. 446) says that elephants "out quclque participation de religion" (have some part of religion). 102. ('It, III, pp. 24f, No. 188.

THE 1630's the correspondence that Poussin took the unfinished Baptism with him to Paris in October 1640 and did not complete it till 1642. In their cool coloring, their clarity of composition, and the precision of their drawing and modeling, these paintings are consistent in style with the paintings of 1638—39, and it is likely that Poussin was occupied on them during these years and, no doubt, during the early months of 1640 before he left for Paris. 103 Poussin's purpose in painting these Sacraments and the particular iconography which he invented for them will be considered more closely in connection with the second series painted for Chantelou in the 1640's, in which his ideas reach more mature expression. For the moment it will be enough to notice that they contain the same elements of classicism and the same almost philosophical intention which are apparent in the allegorical paintings for Giulio Rospigliosi, but applied to a religious subject. Where the scenes take place indoors, the settings have a severity hitherto unknown in Poussin's treatment of architecture, and it is only in the two outdoor scenes — Ordination and Baptism — that Poussin introduces a pleasant relief for the eye in the splendid landscapes with which he fills the background, that in the Ordination being very close in conception to the Moses Striking the Rock of 1637. In Extreme Unction, Poussin has given a studiedly accurate rendering of an interior as he believed it would have looked in an ancient Roman house, and in both Eucharist and Poiancc he shows those taking part in the meal lying on couches in the manner of the ancients, a point of archaeology of which he was proud and which was typical of his interest in historical accuracy. The Eucharist shows an unusual attention to the play of light. There are three sources of light — the two flames of the hanging lamp and the candle on the box in the foreground — and Poussin makes each of these throw a clearly distinguishable shadow in a manner quite untypical of him, creating a pattern which plays against the squared pavement of the room. This singular device was almost certainly suggested to Poussin by the study of Leonardo's writings, which we know he was reading about this time and for which he made the series of drawings later used for the illustrations to the printed edition published in Paris in 1650.104 Certain other paintings executed about the same time as the Eucharist also reflect the study of Leonardo. The Pyrrhus in the Louvre (pi. 112) has as one of its central themes two figures throwing a stone and a spear to convey their message across the river, which illustrate exactly the descriptions of such movements given by Leonardo, and are variants of the drawings which Poussin had made for the manuscript. Yet a third example of his interest in Leonardo is the Manna, which is Poussin's first attempt to apply Leonardo's theory of the expression of the human emotions by gesture.105 Poussin's position as an artist had changed profoundly in the ten years between 1630 and 1640. 10.3. The years 1636 and 16.37 are in any case almost overfilled with works. 104. Cf. CR, IV, pp. 30ff, Nos. 251ff.

105. According to Abraham Bosse, Poussin later turned against Leonardo's treatise, but there is reason to suspect his evidence, and in any case, Poussin's admiration for it in the 1630's is beyond dispute (cf. CR, IV, pp. 26ff).

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NICOLAS POUSSIN At the beginning of the decade he had heen a minor memher of a group of painters favored hy the Barherini family, who had failed to take advantage of his opportunities and in his one public work had attained at most a succes d'cslime. By 1640. he was an artist of established reputation in Rome, even though his admirers were drawn less from the general public than from a group of cultivated collectors. He had become known in France and had received flattering approaches from Louis XIII and Richelieu, who were anxious to tempt him back to Paris. As a painter he had struck out on a line independent of the fashions current in Rome at the time; he had turned his back once and for all on the Baroque, and was acknowledged as a leader of the classical party opposed to its ideals. In the process, he appears to have lost the favor of the Barbenni family, for apart from the second version of the Capture of Jerusalem,, he received no major commissions from them after the failure of the 5/. Erasmus. On the other hand, Cassiano dal Pozzo and his friends appear to have become more and more enthusiastic in their admiration, and Poussin flourished in the atmosphere of this learned circle. From being merely one of a group of artists who supported a Venetian revival, he had become the inventor of the most original and the most poetical development from Titian's pocsic. In this phase he had found imitators, such as Pietro Testa and Pierfrancesco Mola, who continued to imitate his Venetian manner long after he himself had abandoned it and had gone on to new things; for by the end of the thirties he had finally given up his early Venetian tendencies and was set firmly on a new track, which was to lead him to the classicism of the 1640's and to the works on which his reputation was to be based in the eyes of his contemporaries and of many generations to come.

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IV Poussm and Stoicism

B

Y THE END of the 1630's Poussin's reputation in Paris was well established. Admittedly, his first recorded commissions, the Bacchanals for Richelieu, had been sent off immediately on

arrival to the cardinal's chateau in Poitou, but other paintings had remained in Paris: the first

version of the Capture of Jerusalem and another Bacchanal were probably in one of Richelieu's houses in or near Paris; the Schoolmaster of Falcrii, Moses Striking flic Rock, and the Israelites Gathering the Manna were in the possession of private collectors; and the Pan and Syrinx and Armida Carrying Off Rinaldo had been sent by Poussin to artist friends in Paris. The arrival of these pictures in Paris must have caused a sensation. It is true that certain artists working in France, such as Jacques Blanchard, were developing toward a classical idiom independently of Poussin,1 but nothing of the purity and distinction of Poussin's compositions was known in Paris. The authorities seem to have realized quickly the quality of Poussin's works, for in January 1639 Poussin received an official invitation from Richelieu and Frangois Sublet de Noyers, who was his adviser in matters of art, to come to Paris and work for the king.2 The terms of the invitation were flattering and the financial conditions tempting, but Poussin was clearly reluctant to leave Rome, and for more than a year and a half he found one excuse or another for putting off the journey. Finally, in August 1640, Sublet de Noyers wrote through one of his agents in Italy a more or less threatening letter, reminding the painter that he was a subject of the French king, and that kings have long arms.3 Poussin had to submit, and Chantelou was sent to Rome to fetch him. The two friends arrived in Paris in the middle of December 1640.4 At first Poussin was delighted. He was graciously received by Richelieu and the king, who made the remark: "Voila Vouet bien attrape," maliciously enjoying in prospect the effect which Poussin's arrival would have on Vouet, the most popular and best-established painter in Pans. But soon troubles started; Poussin was commissioned to execute two big allegorical paintings for 1. Cf. Thuillicr, "Poussin et scs premiers companions." 2. Corrcsjxnulance. p. 5. 3. Ibid., p. 33. 4. There is some evidence to show that Poussin passed through Dijon on his way from Rome to Pans (or on his return journey to Rome at the end of 1642). CourtepeeBeguillet (II, p. 92) record a tradition that he expressed

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admiration for Nicolas Quentin's painting, the Commnmon of St. Catherine, in the chapel of the Dominican nuns in that city. There is no reason to think that Poussin visited Burgundy before 1624, and even if lie did, his opinion would not have carried enough weight to have been worthy of record, so the visit is more likely to have taken place in 1640 or 1642.

NICOLAS POUSSIN Cardinal Richelieu, an altarpiece for the royal chapel of St.-Germain, and one for the Novitiate of the Jesuits, which was ordered by Sublet de Noyers.5 For a painter who had for ten years specialized in small paintings for personal friends, it must have been acutely uncomfortable to have to execute public works on this huge scale. But his principal commission was even more distasteful: the preparation of designs for the decoration of the Long Gallery joining the Louvre to the Tuileries, a room 1,400 feet long and only 28 feet wide (fig. 139).6 To the intrinsic difficulties of these undertakings were added further problems, which arose from the rivalry of other artists. Vouet evidently felt his position threatened, and the king's comment, which no doubt reached his ears, would have confirmed his apprehension. Lemercier, the architect of the Louvre, must have been equally displeased by Poussin's savage criticisms of his architectural decoration of the Long Gallery,7 and the landscape painter Jacques Fouquieres, who, with some reason, considered that he had been given charge of the painting of the Gallery, found his monopoly infringed. We need not go into the details of all the intrigues against Poussin, but it is plain from his letters that after a few months he was thoroughly unhappy and pining to return to Rome. In the last months of 1642 he escaped on the plea that he must go back and fetch his wife, but it is clear that he never had any intention of returning.^ He reached Rome in November 1642, and. although some pressure was brought to bear on him to make him return, he firmly refused to do so. His position in this respect was soon made easier by political changes in Paris. Richelieu died in December of the same year, Louis XIII four months later, and Sublet de Noyers, who had been a close friend and supporter of the cardinal, was disgraced. In this way, those who would have been principally interested in forcing the artist to return to France disappeared from the scene. Given the conditions under which Poussin worked in Paris, it is not surprising that the paintings which he produced as a result of his official commissions are among the least attractive of his works; and yet they are of some significance in the development of his style and have more merits than are commonly allowed to them. The huge scale on which Poussin was compelled to work had both disadvantages and advantages. It led to a certain inflation, so that some of the canvases convey the feeling that they were conceived as small easel pictures and then enlarged to the scale of altarpieces. On the other hand, Poussin, realizing that he had to find his own solution to the problem of large designs and being unwilling to accept any of the Baroque formulas for this type of painting, evolved a series of compositions which are compelling in their simplicity and yet satisfy the needs of large-scale religious pictures. The design of the Moses and the Burning Bush, for instance .5. For tlic paintings for Richelieu, cf. Aulanier: for the Novitiate altarpiece, cf. Vanuxem, "Les Jesuites." 6'. For an account of this undertaking, see Blunt, "Poussin Studies VI," and also CR. IV, pp. 1 Iff where the surviving drawings for this scheme are reproduced and discussed. 7. Corrcsl>ond(incc. pp. 1.39ff. 8. Curiously enough, this is exactly the excuse given by Andrea del Sarto for leaving Paris, to which he had been

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summoned by Francis I (cf. G. Vasari, he Vile . . . , V, ed. C Milanesi, Florence, 1880. p. .31). The fact that Poussin never intended to return to Paris is confirmed by a letter of Gabriel Naude to Cassiano dal Pozzo (cf. Thuillier, "Pour un 'Corpus Pussinianum,' " p. 65). This did not, however, prevent him from later making the most violent protests when there was a threat to take away the house he had been given in Paris: see below, p. 174.

139. Louis Nicolas van Blarenberghe. Viciu of the Long Gallery of flic Louvre. Private collection

(pi. 14.3), is based on a series of straight lines, mainly arms and legs, which define planes parallel and at right angles to each other and build up a clear composition in depth. The Institution of the Eucharist (pi. 140) is more solemn in its emphasis on verticals and horizontals, but the geometrical skeleton is just as evident and the space as clearly defined. The Miracle of St. Francis Xavier (pi. 141) is more lively in its gestures and its movements, but compared with what must certainly have been the model in Poussin's mind — Raphael's Transfiguration — the design is more rigidly constructed, the figures, for instance, being almost all either in profile or ful If ace. The Time Saving Truth (pi. 142), being a ceiling painting, presents different problems, and Poussin has made more concessions than usual to Baroque methods in his use of the di sot to in sii^ viewpoint and the trompc-Vwil effect of the quatrefoil opening: but compared with what was being produced in Rome at the same time, Poussin's composition seems a model of classical simplicity and lucidity. The same can be said of the decoration of the Long Gallery, in so far as we can reconstruct it from drawings and documents. Poussin deliberately avoids any kind of visual deception and treats his decoration as far as possible as a series of panels decorating a cylindrical surface, without any illusionistic effects to break through the logic of its structure. Once again he seems to be establishing a classical model in defiance of the great Baroque virtuoso decorators. The Long Gallery was his answer to Pietro da Cortona's Barberini ceiling. The classicism and simplicity of these official paintings executed during the visit to Paris reveal for the first time elements of the style which Poussin was to practice after his return to Rome, and the same link is also established, though in a different way, by the two small canvases which he painted for private patrons during his stay. One was the Baptism executed to complete the series of the Sacraments for Cassiano dal Pozzo (pi. 136), and the other was a Holy Family for the dealer 9. Seen from below.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN Stefano Roccatagliata (pi. 144a). The Baptism is one of the works which mark Poussin's increasing interest in nature and lead up to the great series of landscape paintings he was to produce in the later 1640's. The Holy Family is more novel. Poussin had represented the subject during the thirties, but, when he did so, he treated it in the spirit of the Titianesque pocsic, with a flutter of putti which would have been as appropriate to a Toilet of Venus as to a religious subject and a sunset background which might well have appeared in a Diana and Eiidymion. Now the adjuncts are stripped off; the scene takes place in a simple room, of which the only ornaments are an amply draped curtain and a plain classical tripod. The Virgin, seen in profile, sits in a strictly bas-relief pose, with one foot resting on a block of stone, while Joseph appears in the background, asleep by a window. The artist's whole interest is focused on the psychological relation between the mother and child, and nothing is allowed to distract the spectator from this central theme. Both in this painting and in the larger canvases it is possible to detect a change that came into Poussin's color during the visit to Paris. The coolness of the paintings of the previous years is maintained, but their almost gray quality disappears and is replaced in the Holy Family by a delicate harmony of golden yellow and peach-colored draperies and in the large paintings by flat areas of rather strong and clear colors. Both these tendencies were to be developed in the work of the succeeding period. POUSSIN RETURNED

to Rome at the end of 1642, and the next few years were among the most impor-

tant and the most fruitful of his whole career. During this period he produced a series of paintings that were regarded as his supreme achievement by his own contemporaries and for two centuries after his death: the second series of Sacraments, various compositions from ancient history, and the first great landscapes. These paintings cannot be properly understood if they are considered in formal terms only, and in order to realize the artist's intention, it will be necessary to examine in some detail his general ideas and those of the friends among whom he lived and for whom he painted. It was with the works of this period in mind that neoclassical critics named Poussin "le peintre-philosophe."10 It has often been pointed out that Poussin's works of the 1640's reveal very clearly the influence of Stoic ideas and that his letters contain phrases which are Stoic in flavor; H but the influence of this philosophy goes deeper and has more far-reaching effects than is generally stated. A glance at the paintings of the period 12 shows that Poussin was well read in the ancient historians and moralists who wrote about those men of ancient Greece and Rome who most fullv em10. The title seems to have been first applied to him by Seroux d'Agincourt (cf. p. 147) and Bouchitte (p. 390), but it had already been used in connection with Raphael Mengs (cf. above, p. 3). 11. Friedlaender, "Nicolas Poussin" in Thieme-Becker, p. 323; Alpatov, passim: Blunt, "The Heroic and the Ideal Landscape," passim: Gaudibert, passim. 12. It must be emphasized again that there is no absolute

160

break in Poussiifs way of thinking between the 1630*s and 1640*s, but rather an intensification of previously existing tendencies. Several of the paintings that illustrate Stoic stories were executed before 1640. The Gcrmanicus of 1627 is taken from Tacitus, and even though it does not illustrate so directly a moral theme as the later paintings, it is an exemplar of the virtues of innocence and loyalty.

140. Poussin. Mutius Scaevola. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad

bodied the ideals of Stoicism: Plutarch, Valerius Maximus. and Livy; and it is from them that he drew the material for his illustrations to the lives of Coriolanus, Scipio Africanus, Cato the Younger, and many others.13 In almost every case, moreover, Poussin chooses an incident that is charged with moral meaning. The control of the passions is illustrated by the Continence of Scipio (pi. 153). in which generosity conquers physical desire. The theme of physical courage and devotion to country occurs in the drawing of Mutius Scaevola (fig. 140) and that of duty and loyalty in the painting of Coriolanus (pi. 174), who, at the plea of his wife and mother, desists from his attack on Rome and so sacrifices his own life in the interests of the city that had treated him so badly. The victory of devotion to duty over personal ties is shown in the story of the Horatii, of which Poussin made a small drawing (fig. 141 ). 1 4 The nobility of the Roman general Camillus, who refuses to take advantage of the treachery even of an enemy, is the theme of the Schoolmaster of Falerii (pis. 121. 125). Honoring a defeated enemy is taught by the example of Alexander sending the body of Darius to his mother Sysigambis.1^ Sometimes the moral is double — personal and political. Virginia was killed by her father to save her honor, which was threatened by the decemvir Appius Claudius; but as a result, the people of Rome rose against Appius Claudius and overthrew the decemvirate (fig. 143).16 Less well-known than these is the story of Queen Zenobia, wife of Rhadamistus, King of 13. Bellori (p. 438) confirms his use of such sources: "Leggendo historie grcche, e latine, annotava li soggetti, e poi aH'occasioni se ne serviva." 14. CR, II, p. 11, No. 121.

15. Known in a drawing at Windsor (fig. 142), executed in the studio but no doubt incorporating an idea of Poussin (cf. ibid., II. p. 7, No. A 29). 16. Preserved in a drawing at Windsor (ibid., II, pp. llf. No. 122).

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"

•

141. Poussin. The lloratii. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

142. Studio of Poussin. 77/r Clemency of Alexander. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

143. Poussin. The Death of Virginia. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle Armenia, which is told by Tacitus (fig. 144). When escaping from the capital of the kingdom with her husband, she was seized with the pains of childbirth and, not wishing to hinder her husband's escape, begged him to kill her rather than allow her to fall into the hands of their enemies, the Parthians. His attempt to do so failed, and she was saved by passing shepherds — the moment illustrated in Poussin's compositions.17 The death of Cato the Younger has always been regarded as the exemplar of the Stoic's suicide and was no doubt chosen by Poussin for this reason as the subject of a rough drawing that was never turned into a painting (fig. 145). 18 In other cases the paintings and drawings celebrate the great heroes of the Stoics, even if the particular story does not have a direct moral. Scipio appears not only as the symbol of continence, but also in a less-often painted story told by Valerius Maximus (fig. 146). 19 When he had retired from public life to his villa of Linternum near the sea, news was brought to him that pirates had landed. Scipio prepared to defend the villa, but when the pirates saw this, they threw down their arms and approached the house with reverence, wishing only to pay homage to so great a man. Another form of tribute — this time from one great man to another — is illustrated in the story of 17. Preserved in several drawings (ibid., II. pp. 17f, Nos. 131-133 and A 34-A 36). The painting by Dufresnoy, now lost (ibid., II, fig. 15, where it is wrongly said to be in the Hermitage), is based on Poussin's drawings, but only in general terms. The drawing at Chantilly (ibid.,

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II, No. 131), which is nearest to the painting, is probably also by Dufresnoy, as is the small painted version in the Hermitage, which seems to be a sketch for the lost picture. 18. At Windsor (ibid.. IL p. 13. No. 124). 19. Known in various drawings (ibid., II, pp. 13f, Nos. 125-128 and A 32).

144. Poussin. 77^ Finding of Queen Zcnobia. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

145. Poussin. The Death of Cato the Younger. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

m

146. Poussin. Sc\[no Africanus and the Pirates. Ecole des Beaux-Arts, Paris

Alexander sacrificing at the tomb of Achilles, told by Plutarch, and represented by Poussin in a drawing now only known from copies.20 In two cases Poussin chose Stoic heroes — Diogenes (pi. 188) and Phocion (pis. 176, 177) — as the themes for his landscape paintings. Diogenes was admittedly a Cynic and not a Stoic, but he is held up as a model by Stoic writers, and is indeed a sort of nc plus ultra of Stoic self-abnegation. Poussin would certainly have relished the description of him given by Diogenes Laertius: "To fortune he could oppose courage, to convention nature, to passion reason." 21 The particular theme of the painting in the Louvre is the well-known story of the drinking bowl. Diogenes, having reduced his possessions to a cloak and a drinking bowl, thought that he had discarded everything that was unnecessary to life, but realized his mistake on seeing a boy drinking water out of his hand, and, drawing the logical conclusion, threw away the bowl. Plutarch's life of Phocion must have been favorite reading with Poussin. The character of the Athenian general would have appealed to him in many ways: his stern and austere manner, covering a naturally gentle disposition; his preference for a simple life and his rejection of all rewards: his inflexible devotion to truth and duty, and his refusal to pander to popular opinion, which finally 20. Ibid., II, p. 7, Nos. A 26-A 28.

21. Life of Diogenes 6. 38 (trans. Loeb Classical Library).

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NICOLAS POUSSIX cost him his life. Even in artistic matters his ideals seem to have been those which Poussin would have admired. He was noted, for instance, for the brevity and pithiness of his speeches, and Plutarch tells us that a friend, seeing him walking meditatively outside the Assembly, said to him, "Phocion. you seem deep in thought," to which Phocion replied, "Yes, I am thinking how I may shorten my speech to the Athenians," a statement of the principle of economy that Poussin applied to the full in his own art. In fact, Poussin painted round the story of Phocion's death two of his most famous heroic landscapes. According to Plutarch, Phocion, who was hated by the people of Athens because of his moral rectitude and severity, was condemned to death on a false charge of treason by an assembly in which the popular element had got the upper hand. Furthermore, it was decreed that he should not be buried in the city. Poussin's first painting shows his body being carried out of Athens by a certain Conopion, "who did these offices for hire." The second illustrates the sequel. The body was carried to the city of Megara, where it was burned according to the Greek rites. Phocion's widow collected the ashes and buried them under the hearth, to bring them out again when the political situation in Athens had changed and Phocion's remains could be given honorable burial. 22 The stories just quoted as themes of paintings or drawings by Poussin are all drawn from the Stoic historians, but in one case at least, the artist took his subject from an Epicurean writer, Lucian. It is, however, typical of Poussin that he should have selected not one of Lucian's more cynical and satirical dialogues, but one of his most serious and moralizing works, the Toxaris, which has as it subtitle, A Dialogue of Friendship. The story in question is that of the Corinthian Eudamidas, a man of very small means but possessing the true friendship of two compatriots, Aretaeus and Charixenus. On his deathbed, Eudamidas dictated a will, by which he bequeathed to Aretaeus his mother, on the charge that he should look after her in her old age, and to Charixenus his daughter, to give in marriage with such dowry as he could provide. If either legatee should die, his portion was to pass to the survivor. When the will was made known, all Corinth laughed, but they stopped laughing when they found that both Eudamidas' friends accepted the provisions of the will. Charixenus died five days after Eudamidas, but Aretaeus took up the responsibility left to him and cared for the mother and married off the daughter, giving her as dowry nearly half his property. The moral of the story is sufficiently clear, and its lofty tone is vividly rendered in Poussin's painting (pi. 224). 2 ^ There is, however, a further point to be noted. The Toxaris is a dialogue between the Greek Mnesippus and the Scythian Toxaris, who have a competition as to who can produce the more impressive true stories of deep friendship. The story of Eudamidas is one of those told by Mnesippus, and the others are all much of the same character — men who sacrifice their wealth or their 22. Paintings illustrating the story of Phocion are extremely rare. One, in the museum of Nantes (No. 80), formerly attributed to Guercino and now to Assereto. is said to show him refusing the gifts of Alexander. 23. Poussin no doubt knew the story in Lucian's dialogue,

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hut his attention may also have been drawn to it through Montaigne, who quotes it at length in his essay frDe Tamitie" (Giuvres completes [Bibliothequc de la Pltiade], ed. A. Thibaudet and M. Rat, Paris, 1963, pp. 189fF).

POUSSIN AND STOICISM happiness for their friends. The Scythian Toxaris, however, tells stories of a much more savage kind, of warriors who face death or mutilation to save their friends and whose devotion verges on the fanatical. It is characteristic of Poussin that he should have chosen one of the more moderate stories from the dialogue. The violence of Toxaris' narratives would have seemed excessive and contrary to reason in his eyes. It might be argued that the choice of these moral subjects was due to Poussin's patrons and does not prove that the artist himself sympathized with the ideas which his paintings embodied. This would not be in accordance with Poussin's character, or with his conception of his art, but fortunately there is ample evidence from his letters and from the early biographies to show that he thought in terms of Stoicism and lived in accordance with its precepts. The evidence, scattered and fragmentary though it is, makes up a surprisingly complete picture of Poussiirs philosophy of life. He is not, it need hardly be said, concerned with problems of metaphysics, but his views on ethics are set forth with clarity and vigor in his letters, and it is even possible to deduce, if the letters are read in conjunction with the allegories implied in the paintings, that the artist was also influenced by Stoic ideas on the organization and beauty of the cosmos and the position of man in it. His basic principle for the conduct of life is to live according to nature and reason. For him, as for the Stoics,24 these are more or less indistinguishable, and to live according to one is to follow the other. The consequence of pursuing this way of life is that it leads to virtue, which is the only absolute good, but it brings with it the other great aim of the Stoic: tranquillity of mind. "All your actions being guided by reason," he writes to Chantelou, "you can do nothing which will not lead to a really virtuous end"; 25 and in another context — in this case speaking of an artistic matter — he couples reason with nature in such a way as to make it clear that for him they are the same: we must act, he says, "as nature and reason teach us to act." 26 This conduct will lead to "peace and tranquillity of mind," which Poussin describes as "possessions which have no equal."2'7 Virtue, moreover, will enable a man to be superior to those changes which fate may bring on him. "One must attain virtue and wisdom in order to stand firm and remain unmoved before the assaults of mad, blind fortune."2** Resignation in the face of misfortune is a theme to which Poussin frequently returns in his letters. "One must accept the will of God, who orders things thus, and fate wills that they should happen in this way," he writes to Chantelou when the latter has suffered a severe blow to his career through the disgrace of Sublet de Noyers.2^ Eighteen months later, when 24. For an account of Stoic philosophy, see E. V. Arnold. Roman Stoitism, Cambridge, 1911; and G. Murray. Stoic, Christian and Humanist, London, 1940. 25. ff. . . toutes vos actions estant conduittes par le moyen de la raison vous ne pouves rien faire qui n'aye une fin vraymen vertueuse" (Correspondanve, p. 260). 26. "Comme la nature et la raison enseignent a les faire" (ibid., p. 145).

27. rrLe repos et la tranquillite de l'esprit qne vous pouves posseder se sont des biens qui n'ont point desgal" (ibid., p. 201). 28. ". . . la consideration de la vertu et de la sagesse qui faut aquerir pour demeurer ferme et immobile aux efforts de cette folle aveugle" (ibid., p. 384). 29. fr. . . quil se faut conformer a la volonte de dieu qui ordonne ainsi les choses, et la necessite veut quelle se passent ainsi" (ibid., p. 278: cf. also pp. 299, 366).

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NICOLAS POUSSIN the latter dies, Poussin writes a letter of sympathy, and then, as if remembering himself on rereading the letter, he adds above the line: "But from another point of view you must not think that what has happened to you is a misfortune,"30 a clear statement of the Stoic belief that not even death can affect true happiness, which comes from the attainment of virtue. Poussin often uses phrases taken directly from Stoic writers. In these cases he does not give his sources, not in order to conceal them but because these were accepted ideas that were current in his circle, and would be as familiar to his correspondent as to himself. Writing again to Chantelou about Sublet de Noyers' fall and referring to the effects which the new situation may produce indirectly on himself, he says: "Whatever happens to me, I am resolved to accept the good and bear the evil. Miseries and disasters are things so common with men that I am surprised that men of sense should get angry at them, and that they do not laugh at them rather than sigh over them. We have nothing that is really our own; we hold everything as a loan."3* This last sentence is commonplace in all Stoic philosophers, and is in fact an almost exact quotation from Seneca, whose Moral Essays Poussin certainly knew. On another occasion, referring to the uncertainties of fortune, he writes: "Only great wisdom or great simplicity (stupidite) can exempt man from these storms, one being above them, the other below them. The ordinary man (de la moycnne trcmpc) is subject to her rigors." 31a This idea is to be found in the Georgics^ but from the exact words used by Poussin, it seems likely that he knew it through Montaigne, whom he certainly read and who quotes it in his essay "De mesnager sa volonte."33 Fate, however, is not always unkind and sometimes conceals good within evil. In a letter to Chantelou, Poussin moralizes on an accident which had happened to a friend of his but had led to good results. "It is," he says, "one of those sleights of hand which fate uses when it pleases her, and when she wants to make fun of her wretched human victims, always mixing evil with good and good with evil." 34 He comes back to the same idea in another letter, referring to a defeat which the French army had just suffered: "But who knows what will come of it? Sometimes, if we were not lost, we should be lost." 35 This is an allusion to a remark of Themistocles, quoted by Plutarch. The Greek general, driven into exile by the Athenians and finding himself well re30. "Mais d'uii autre coste il ne faut point que vous croyes que se soit un malhcur quil vous soit arive" (ibid., p. 327). 31. "Mais a la fin quoy quil m'arive. je me resous de prendre le bien et supporter le mal. Cest une chose si commune aux hommes que les miseres et disgraces que je m'emerveille que les hommes d'esprit s'en fachent et ne s'en ris plustost que d'en soupirer. Nous n'avons rien en propre nous tenons tout a louage" (ibid., p. 197). 31a. "Mais il ni a que l'extreme sagesse et l'extreme stupidite qui se puissent exempter de ses tempestes Tune estant au dela Tautre au desa. et ceux qui sont de la moyenne trempe sont subiects a sentir ses rigeurs" (ibid., p. 384). 32. 2. 490.

33. Montaigne, ed. cit., pp. 997f. Montaigne is one of the very few authors whom Poussin quotes by name (Correspondance, p. 393). He refers to many of the Stoic subjects painted or drawn by Poussin, e.g., the death of Cato (pp. 403, 594, 661, 682), Phocion (p. 242), Camillus (p. 27). 34. " . . . un des tours de souplesse que la fortune scait faire quant il luy plaist, et quand elle veut se moquer des pauvres hommes ses subiects — meslans tousiours le mal avec le bien et le bien avec le mal" (Correspondance, p. 348). 35. "Mais qui scait se qui en doibt succeder? quelquefois si nous n'cstions perdus nous serions perdus" (ibid., p. 239).

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POUSSIN AND STOICISM ceived and loaded with honors by Artaxerxes, king of Persia, said to his sons: ffO my sons, if we had not been undone, we should now be undone."'36 In a letter written less than a year before his death, when he was already seriously ill, Poussin came back to the theme of patience in a more whimsical but equally philosophical mood: "They preach patience to me as the remedy of all ills. I take it like a medicine that costs little but cures nothing." 37 And so, even at the end of his life, when his sufferings were great, he did not lose that calm which he had sought and which he expected others to attain: "I imagine," he writes to Chantelou, who has lost a friend, "that you will have come to yourself again, and that your mind, afflicted as it was by the death of our good friend, will have recovered its normal stability."38 Poussin realized that man was liable to be shaken by public as much as by private events. He lived in a troubled period and witnessed, though from a distance, the Thirty Years' War, the Fronde in Paris, and the revolt of Masaniello in Naples. He was well aware that it is easier to prescribe than to practice detachment if one is involved in affairs such as these, and he makes it plain that his own desire is to keep himself away from them. When Chantelou was more or less excluded from public life after the disgrace of Sublet de Noyers in 1643, Poussin wrote to him: "I have no doubt that you view with fear rather than pleasure the possibility of returning to the tangled life of the court," 39 and his own feelings are made abundantly clear in a letter, in which, having referred to the bad news from England (the execution of Charles I ) , Naples (the revolt of Masaniello), and Poland (the revolt of the Cossacks), he adds: "It is a great pleasure to live in a century in which such great events take place, provided that one can take shelter in some little corner and watch the play in comfort."40 Here again, Poussin is echoing the ideas of the Stoics, though only of the later members of the school. Zeno and the early Stoics laid much emphasis on the duty of the individual to play his part in the activities of the community. It was only later, at the time of Seneca, that a sort of quietism came into the doctrine, and it was universally maintained that the wise man should keep out of public life and prefer a life of contemplation.41 Poussin may have been consciously echoing these classical writers, but he may also have had in mind the Neo-Stoics of his own day and of the preceding generation.4^ The quotation given above from his letter reflects ideas to be found in Montaigne and is almost a verbal reminder of an expression of Guillaume du Vair, who, as his friend Nicolas Peiresc tells us in one of his letters, 36. Life of Themistocles 29, and Moralia 185C. The remark is also quoted by Charron (De la sagesse, Bk. II, ch. 7). Poussin refers again to Themistocles in a letter of 1658 (Correspondance, p. 447), and once more his source is Plutarch's Life of Themistocles. 37. ff. . . Tom me presche la patiense qui est le remede a tous maus, laquelle je prens comme une medecine qui ne couste guere mais ausi qui ne guarit de rien" (Correspondance, p. 459). 38. Ibid., p. 323f. The actual words are "sa solidite ordinaire." Elsewhere (p. 384) he writes to Chantelou reproving him for a certain softness in his reaction to a

misfortune, "vous vous scaures bien tost remettre en vostre ferme et constante asiette." The same idea occurs again on p. 235. 39. Ibid., p. 201. 40. "Cependans c'est un grand plaisir de vivre en un siecle la ou il se passe de si grande chose pourveu que Ton puisse se mettre a couvert en quelque petits coings pour pouvoir voir la Comedie a son aise" (ibid., p. 395). 41. Cf. Arnold, op. cit., p. 116. 42. Lipsius, for instance, devotes three chapters to the merits of gardens as harbors from the bustle of life (De constantia, Bk. II, chs. 1-3).

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NICOLAS POUSSIN was unhappy in his important post of garde des sceanx, because he was ^linked to one of the characters in the tragedy and had lost the freedom which he had enjoyed in his own country [Provence], There he had been a mere spectator of court life, watching it like a comedy, which it is far more agreeable to look at from afar than to be involved in intimately." 43 The fact that Poussin believed that a wise man should keep out of politics does not mean that he had no views on them. His code is on the whole a simple one, based on a love of peace and fear of any disturbance. The revolt of Masaniello in Naples arouses his alarm, "God preserve us from such miseries,'*44 and in 1649 his prayer is that all will turn out "for the glory of God and for the benefit and the peace of our poor country."4^ But he had his political convictions. He was strongly opposed to Mazarin, partly no doubt because he had caused the downfall of Sublet de Noyers and thereby ruined the career of his patron Chantelou, but probably even more for the same reasons as the bourgeoisie of Paris, who saw in him a corrupt intriguer who threatened their interests. When, in 1651, the cardinal was forced to leave France, Poussin writes to Chantelou, f

I pray God it may be forever. I fear a return." 46 And on hearing that the Frond cms had signed

the Peace of Rueil, which he rightly regarded as a victory for Mazarin, he writes, again to Chantelou: "We made this agreement when we should rather have died. We were the stronger, everyone was prepared to do their duty, and we allowed ourselves to be tricked. . . . Let us now save ourselves if we can hide under the fleece of the sheep and avoid the bloody hands of this raging Cyclops." 4? On one point related to civil disturbances, Poussin was particularly clear: the danger of popular revolt and the unreliability of the people. When, in August 1649, the court returned to Paris after the Peace of Rueil and was enthusiastically welcomed by the people of Paris, who a few months before had been in active revolt against it, Poussin writes sadly, "This is no cause for surprise to those who know the stupidity and inconstancy of the people." 48 This again might almost be a quotation from Seneca,49 but it is equally in agreement with the views of the French Neo-Stoic writers of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, such as Pierre Charron and Guillaume du Vaiivr>0 The same view is also expressed with passion by the elder Horace in Corneille's Horace.^ 43. Georges Gahen-Salvador, Un grand Uiimamslc: Petresc, Paris, 19.51, p. 80. Montaigne (ed. cit., p. 48) speaks of fleeing "la servitude des cours." 44. Correspomlance. p. 369. 45. Ibid., p. 396; cf. also p. 255. 46. Ibid., p. 422. His dislike of Mazarin (and. incidentally, also Chantelou's for the cardinal by implication) appears in certain letters in which lie discusses the possibility of using the cardinal's courier to transport paintings from Rome to Paris (ibid., pp. 237, 331. 333). 47. ''. . . 1"accord que Ton a fet quand il falloit plustost mourir. L*on estoit le plus fort ehascun estoit prest de bien faire. et Ton e'est laisse piper . . . sauvons-nous si nous pouvons cacher sous la peau de la brebis et evitons les sanglantes mains du Ciclope enrage et furicus" (ibid., pp. 398f).

48. Ibid., pp. 405f. 49. Cf. Epistnlae 7 and De vita beata 2. The same idea is to be found in many other Stoics (e.g., Plutarch, Lives of Phocion and the Gracchi) or writers influenced by Stoicism (e.g., Juvenal, passim). 50. Blunt, "The Heroic and the Ideal Landscape," pp. 158ff. To the authors there quoted may be added Poussins friend, Gabriel Naude (cf. Rice, pp. 98f). Naude quotes Sallust and Pausanias in support of his views, Gharron (De la sagesse, Bk. I, ch. 54) quotes Juvenal. Sallust, Tacitus, Seneca, and Plutarch. Richelieu expressed a similar feeling, though strongly tinged with fear, when he said of the people of Paris: frDo not awaken that great beast" (V. Sackville-West, Daughter of France, London, 1959, p. 88). 51. Act V, scene 3.

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POUSSIN AND STOICISM It was, moreover, a minor theme in the story of Coriolanus, illustrated by Poussin, and an essential one in that of Phocion, round which he built up two of his greatest landscapes. Poussin applied his philosophy to the practical conduct of his life in the most exact manner. We have already seen how, after the failure of the St. Erasmus, he had withdrawn from the competitive life of Roman artists and, abandoning the great public commissions, had sought to satisfy his own artistic conscience and the taste of a small group of friends. When he had been forced back into public life by Richelieu and Sublet de Noyers, his experiences had done nothing but confirm his distaste for it. And now, settled once more in Rome, with sympathetic private patrons coming to his studio in numbers sufficient to keep him occupied for the rest of his life, he was able to follow his own inclination and to take shelter in his own "little corner." From the facts recounted by his biographers, we can form a clear picture of his existence. In spite of his fame, his way of life continued to be of the simplest/'2 His house in the Via Paolina (now del Babuino) was small and modestly run. Bellori53 tells a story which is typical of his mode of living. One evening he received a visit from Cardinal Camillo Massimi, and when his guest was leaving, Poussin himself carried the candle to light him to the door. The cardinal said how much he pitied the artist for not having a servant to perform this duty for him, to which Poussin replied, "And I pity your Eminence for having so many."-'54 Bellori's account of Poussin's manner of living is so vivid that it is worth quoting at length: He followed a very regular way of life, for there are many who paint at their whim and go on for a short time with great enthusiasm, and then grow exhausted and leave their brushes for long periods, whereas Nicolas was in the habit of getting up early and taking an hour or two's exercise, sometimes walking in the town but almost always on the Monte della Trinita, that is to say, the Pincian, which was not far from his house and to which there led a short slope made pleasant by trees and fountains [cf. fig. 147], and from which there unfolded the most beautiful view of Rome and its lovely hills, which, with the nearby buildings, made it, as it were, a stage set. There he talked with his friends in curious and learned discourses. Returning home, he at once set about painting till midday and, having eaten, continued painting for several hours; and so he achieved more by continued application than another painter by practical skill. In the evening he went out again and walked below the hill in the Piazza [di Spagna], to meet foreigners who used to gather there. He was almost always surrounded by friends who accompanied him, so that those who, on account of his fame, wished to see him or to speak with him in a friendly way found him there, since he always admitted to his company any man of worth. He listened willingly to others, but afterward his own discourses were weighty and were received with attention. He very often 52. The contents of his house, as shown by the inventory taken after his death, are of striking simplicity (cf. Lemonnier, pp. 178ff). 53. P. 441. 54. This is almost an echo in moderate form of the story told of Diogenes by Diogenes Laertius (6. 155). His only slave ran away, and when he was told, Diogenes said, ff My slave has run away? Say rather that I have become

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free." The same story is told in slightly different form by Seneca (De tranquillitale animi 8). Poussin's suspicion of riches as a source of corruption is also shown in another story, recorded by the Abbe Bordelon (p. 156). A person of distinction showed Poussin a painting which he had executed, and asked him what he should do to become a successful painter. Poussin replied, "All you need is a little poverty."

147. Unknown Painter. Piazza di Spagna. 17th century. Museo di Roma, Rome

talked about art and with such experience of the matter that not only painters but other men of intelligence came to hear from his mouth the finest reflections on painting, which he made not with the intention of instructing, but as occasion demanded. As he had read and observed much, no topic arose in the conversation which he had not mastered, and his words and ideas were so just and so well ordered that they seemed rather thought out than made spontaneously. The cause of this was his fine mind and his wide reading, not only, I say, of histories and fables and the branches of learning in which he excelled, but in the other liberal arts and in philosophy. In this he was well served by his early knowledge of the Latin language, even though it was not perfect, and he knew Italian as well as if he had been born in Italy. He was penetrating in understanding, discreet in choice, and retentive in memory, and these are the most desirable gifts of intelligence.55 This picture of the grave, deliberate, and serious artist, living apart from the world and contemplating it with detachment and even a certain scorn, was something of a rarity in the Baroque period. The idea of a painter keeping himself apart from public life seems normal to us, but it was far from being so in the seventeenth century. Artists such as Rubens and Bernini played an important role in political and religious affairs, and even those who did not have a chance to take such an active part in them regarded a post as court painter as the highest aim of their career. With Poussin it was otherwise. He preferred the company of Cassiano dal Pozzo to that of his 55. Pp. 43511 172

POUSSIN AND STOICISM master, Cardinal Francesco Barberini,^6 and Chantelou to Sublet de Noyers. He was made first painter to Louis XIII, but threw away this opportunity in order to go back to freedom in Rome. And even there, although he must have had friends who could have brought him into regular contact with the great, his name never appears in gossip, and his paintings never adorned the altars of the great churches which were being erected in Rome. He sacrificed much, but he attained tranqiiillitas a?iimi. It would, however, be a mistake to imagine that there was no relief to the solemnity of Poussin's character. In his youth, as we have seen, he was full of fire, and his life was more Bohemian than his later years would suggest. But something of liveliness survived into maturity, and there is a salt about his letters which contrasts strangely with his Stoical severity. His style is direct and often colorful, with occasional picturesque outbursts of temper. Of an enemy, who, he thought, was trying to deprive him of his house in Paris, he wrote, "II meriteroit que Ton le pendit par les genitoires,"57 and his comment on the satirical writings of Scarron is even more outspoken.r>8 But Poussin is not only vivid when he is angry. His mind turns readily to phrases which have a flavor of the people and are often based on proverbs. To start on a journey in his present state of health, he writes in 1639, "se seroit aler chercher son malheur avec la chandelle." 59 Of the uninformed collectors in Paris he says, "They are like those animals which, when one goes through a gate, all the others try to follow." 60 And as a supporting argument to justify the long time he is taking over the execution of a painting, he pulls out the phrase, "It takes time and straw to ripen medlars." 61 There is one passage which reveals Poussin's mode of thought in a peculiarly vivid manner. While in Paris in 1642 he writes to Chantelou that he has received a letter from Sublet de Noyers but has decided not to answer it, because he feels that his style is not refined enough for so great a person. "Therefore," Poussin goes on, "I shall behave like the geese of the Palus Maeotis when they fly over the Mons Taurica for fear of the eagles there." 62 This is a slightly incorrect allusion to a story told by several ancient writers — Plutarch was probably Poussin's source 63 — to the effect that the geese that fly across the Taurus mountains gag themselves with pebbles so as not to alert the eagles by their cackling. What is so typical of this allusion is that it combines Poussin's love of a pic56. Pozzo also kept himself outside political life and refused advancement of any kind, thus meriting the praise of Daniel Heinsius, who describes him as "Fortunae contemptor animus" — a phrase which again has a strong Stoical flavor. 57. Corrcspondance, p. 248. Poussin is no doubt alluding to Diogenes' pun on the name of Didymon (Diogenes Laertius 6. 51). 58. Corrcspondance, p. 350. 59. Ibid., p. 24. 60. Ibid., p. 132. 61. ff. . . avec le temps et la paille se murissent les nefles" (ibid., p. 409). For other proverbs and familiar similes, cf. pp. 273, 392, 432, 445.

62. frJe ferei done cnvers lui comme font les Oisons qui se partent des palluds Meothides pour passer le Mons Thaurin craignans les Aigles qui i habitent" (ibid., p. 123). 63. Moralia 967B. Cf. also Aelian De natura animaUum 5. 29, and Ammianus Marcellinus 18. 3. 9. Poussin — or an intermediate writer who may have been his direct source — has confused the Mons Taurica (the Taurus mountains) with the Chersonesus Taurica (the Crimea). It is presumably for this reason that he drags in the Palus Maeotis (the Sea of Azov), which had nothing to do with the story of the geese. I am greatly indebted to Mr. A. S. F. Gow for elucidating this reference,

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148. Con fide iitia. Seal of Poussin's ring

turesque story with his liking for an obscure piece of classical erudition. It is also significant that he does not think it necessary to explain the allusion, but evidently assumes that Chantelou will at once get the point — rightly, as it turned out, because in his summary of the letter written at the head Chantelou refers to the passage as a "neat comparison." It must, however, be admitted that Poussin was not always so completely detached from the things of this world as his philosophy would have required.64 True, his way of life was simple, and his manners were austere: but when he thought he was in danger of losing the house the king had given him in Paris, which he was never to use again and to which his moral and legal claims were very shaky, he wrote to Chantelou the most vehement protests.6^ One must not forget that he was by blood a Norman peasant. The same trouble over his house also calls out a sudden burst of arrogance, surprising in a man who was generally regarded as retiring and modest: "Will they," he asks, "turn out of his house a virtuoso famous throughout Europe?" 66 It could indeed be said that, though Poussin did not seek world recognition, he was aware of his own merits, and it was not without significance that, when he had a ring engraved after his return to Rome in 1642, he chose for it the figure of Confidentia as described by Cesare Ripa (fig. 148) . 67 His self-confidence was also manifested in the comments he habitually made about his fellow artists, whether in Rome or in Paris, of whom he had no good at all to say.68 Here again, however, he could appeal to the Stoics for support, for to them, pity was a feeling not strictly compatible with reason and therefore to be condemned.69 Poussin no doubt believed that his criticisms of his Baroque contemporaries were based on purely reasonable grounds. 64. The same might be said of the theory and practice of Seneca himself. 65. Correspondance, p. 248. 06. ff. . . un vertueux cogneu de toutte Leurope" (ibid., p. 308). 67. Bellori (p. 440) says that Poussin followed the description of Confidentia given by Cartari, but, in fact,

he follows exactly the iconography set out by Ripa (p. 82). Cartari does not appear to mention Confidentia at all. 68. Cf. Correspondance, pp. 97, 139ff. 69. Cf. also Charron, op. tit.. Bk. Ill, ch. 3, "Contre la compassion et la misericorde."

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POUSSIN AND STOICISM Indeed, for the Stoics, all emotions were incompatible with reason and therefore to be condemned, and this view is to be found reflected in Poussin's letters. Writing to Chantelou, who had criticized a painting sent him by Poussin in what seemed to the artist a subjective manner, he wrote, "If you will consider things without passion they won't ever make your gorge rise." 70 The artist himself always judges according to the principles of reason rather than on the impulses of emotion, and this gives to his letters a severity which is in some ways unattractive but is an essential part of his intellectual make-up. In the practical conduct of life, reason will inspire the wise man to seek moderation 71 and to avoid extremes or undue haste. Of an intemperate patron, Poussin writes, "He rushes in the French manner from one extreme to the other without ever stopping in the middle."72 Such haste is contrary to prudence, for Poussin applied in life the principle that he laid down in art: "Tilings in which there is a certain perfection must not be studied hastily but with time, judgment, and understanding. The same means must be used in judging them rightly as in making them rightly."7** Of the conduct of his own life he writes, "I go about all my business gently and at my leisure," 7^ and he expected others to follow his own tempo, for in many of his letters he begs his potential patron to be patient and not to hurry him in his work.75 It must not be supposed, however, that he was ashamed of his slowness. "The tortoise cannot follow the eagle," he writes;76 and when he spoke of the eagle, he may well have been thinking of his great contemporary Bernini; but, if so, it was without envy. Poussin was indeed the tortoise of painting, and he was proud of the fact. Slowness may have disadvantages, but it has one capital quality: it leads to constancy, another virtue greatly praised by the Stoics. "I am not fickle or changing in my affection once I have given it to a person," 77 he writes to Chantelou about their personal relationship; and he might have said the same of his whole outlook on life and art. He was the most steadfast of men and the most consistent of artists. This deliberate method of thinking, acting, and painting goes hand in hand with another quality to which Poussin attached the greatest importance, namely, order. "My nature compels me to seek and love things that are well ordered, fleeing confusion, which is as contrary and inimical to me as is day to the deepest night." 7^ Such order is, of course, a manifestation of reason and a reflection of the order and harmony inherent in nature. This in its turn is a result of the logos, or vera ratio, otherwise the Word or the Soul of the World, which for the Stoics governs the universe. Pous70. ffSi vous voules considerer toutte choscs sans passion cllc ne vous reviendros jamais" (Corresftoiulance, p. 408). The meaning is not quite clear, but rcvenir was used in this sense in the seventeenth century. 71. Ibid., p. 268. 72. Ibid., p. 385. 73. "Les choses esquelles il i a de la perfection ne se doivent pas voir alia haste mais avec temp jugement et intelligense. il faut user des mesme moiens a les bien juger comme a les bien faire" (ibid., pp. 12If). 74. ". . . procedant en toutes mes operations, tout doucement et a Taise" (ibid., p. 431).

75. Ibid., pp. 317, 413. etc. 76. Ibid., p. 309. Cf. Seneca Efnstiilae 44: Quintus Curtius 9. 9: Livy 22. 39. 77. "J e n e s u i s point homme legier ni changeant d'afTcction quand je Tei mise en un subiec" (Conespan dance, p. 372). Cf. Justus Lipsius' De vonstanlia for the irnportance of constancy to the Neo-Stoics of the sixteenth century. 78. ffMon naturel me contrainct de chercher et aimer les choses bien ordonnees fuians la confusion qui m'est ausi contraire et anemie comme est la lumiere des obscurs tenebres" (Corrcsftondancc, pp. 134f).

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NICOLAS POUSSIN sin's conception of reason is fundamentally akin to the Stoic logos, and is in this way to be distinguished from the much narrower idea of reason as it appears, for instance, in the teachings of the academies of literature or painting. With Lebrun, and to some extent with Boileau, reason has ceased to be a creative faculty and has become a set of rules that limit imagination. With Poussin it has still something of the Heraclitean fire79 and is the impulse to which works of art owe their existence. Poussin's acceptance of the Stoic idea of the logos is also of importance in relation to his landscape painting, which becomes an essential and original part of his art in the later 164CTs. At first sight it might seem curious that, at the very moment that his art was reaching its most purely humanist form, he should devote so much attention to the painting of inanimate nature, which had always been regarded as of secondary significance in the tradition to which he was particularly attached at the time, the art of classical antiquity and of Raphael. In the early Titianesque phase, Poussin had used landscape in the manner of the Venetians, as the reflection of a human mood, but now his approach is entirely different. Nature is now studied for its own sake, because it is a reflection of the logos, the infusion of the Word into inanimate matter. Seen in this way, nature has as good a claim as man to be the object of the painter's interest — as good but not better, as the Romantics were later to maintain. Indeed, the equality of the two is clearly implied in Poussin's landscapes of this period. Nature is shown as grand in itself, but its grandeur is in accordance with a rational order, and it is used as a setting for human tragedy. This parallel between the order of nature and the nobility of man, which seems to be the theme of Poussin's landscapes such as those embodying the stories of Phocion or Diogenes, has an exact parallel in an idea of the Stoics expressed by Seneca: "Wherever we stir, the two resources which are the fairest of all attend us: nature, which is universal, and virtue, which is our own. Such was the design, believe me, of whatever force fashioned the universe, whether an omnipotent god. or impersonal Reason as artificer of vast creations, or divine Spirit permeating all things great and small with uniform tension, or Fate with its immutable nexus of interrelated causes. . . . This world, than which Nature has wrought nothing greater or handsomer, and the human mind, its most magnificent portion, which contemplates the world and admires it, are our own forever."80 This belief in the beauty and order of nature, which was common to almost all Stoic philosophers, seems to be the inspiration of all Poussin's great landscape paintings of the 1640\s and early 1650's. In them, nature is treated as a direct manifestation of the divine, and is seen as organized on principles in accordance with human reason, which is its other great manifestation. 79. The idea of the logos was derived by the Stoics from the fire of Heraclitus.

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80. De consolalionc ad Hclviam 8.

V Poussin's Religious Ideas

S

TOICISM WAS

a mainspring — probably the mainspring — in Poussin's thought during the later

part of his life; but the question inevitably arises: what was his attitude toward Christianity,

more particularly toward the Roman Church of his own day? The fact that he lived according to the moral precepts of the Stoics does not in any way imply that he disbelieved in the doctrines of the Church; and the solemnity and grandeur of his religious paintings of the 1640's, such as the

second series of Sacraments, would silence any doubts about the sincerity of his religious convictions; but it is not an easy task to define exactly his position in relation to Christian dogma, though many attempts have been made to do so. It has been suggested that Poussin was influenced by Jesuit ideas,1 that he was a Jansenist, that he was connected with the Compagnie du St.-Sacrement,2 that he was touched by Protestant doctrines, or that he was a libcrtm.-* There is a certain truth in all these suggestions, but none of them is wholly satisfactory. They all have, however, one feature in common, namely, the idea that Poussin was not in sympathy with the Catholicism current in the Rome of his own day, to which Bernini gave the finest artistic expression; and, indeed, this fact at once becomes apparent if we examine Poussin's few comments on religious matters in his letters, and above all if we look at the paintings themselves. The very fact that there are few references to religion in the letters is significant, for, though Poussin frequently discusses moral questions, he almost invariably illustrates them with a quotation from an ancient philosopher or a story from a classical historian. Apart from a glancing reference to the familiar phrase, ffThe spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak,"4 there is only one direct quotation from the Bible in all the surviving letters, and this is a purely practical piece of morality, which might just as well have come from a pagan philosopher; moreover, Poussin only introduces it to reject it. Writing to Chantelou, who had just become attached to the household of the Prince de Conde, Poussin says: "The frailty of man's fortunes always has need of strong and powerful stays. 1. Cf. Vanuxem. frLcs Jesuites," and *Les ^Tableaux SacreY ": and to some extent Sauerlander, "Die Jahreszeiten."

2. Cf. Marignan: and Lohneysen. 3. Blunt, f'Etat present des etudes sur Poussin," pp. XXIIff. 4. Corresfiondance, p. 21. The quotation is Matt. 26:41.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN Although it is said that we must not put our trust in princes nor in any son of man in whom there is no help, yet we often see that man can be a god to man." 5 Poussin's references to contemporary religious affairs in his letters all display a surprising tone of flippancy. His attitude toward the princes of the Church is apparent from his comments on the illness and death of Urban VIII. a pope who had done much for the arts and much for Poussin's friends, but whose government of the Church the artist clearly condemned. In April 1644, he writes to Chantelou: "It is said here that His Holiness is ill. If he is taken from us, God give us a better," and after the pope's death, when the conclave was about to meet, he adds: "God grant that we shall be better governed in the future than in the past." 6 Some of the jokes that he makes to Chantelou are again of a kind which do not suggest great piety, though perhaps also no great humor. When, for instance, he sends him the Extreme Unction of the second series of Sacraments, he writes: "To tell the truth, I take some consolation from the fact that you will receive Extreme Unction without being ill and before I have to hear the moans that you began to make at not receiving this sacrament at the time for which I had promised it. You will receive it not from a priest but from the Lyons carrier." 7 His levity takes on a sharper quality in a curious letter written in 1650, which contains the following passage: "There is nothing more remarkable to report from here than the miracles that happen so often that it is becoming a source of astonishment. The Florentine procession has added . . . a wooden crucifix which is growing a beard, and its hair is becoming longer every day by four fingers. It is said that one of these days the pope will give it a ceremonial shearing."** This passage takes on a greater significance when we realize that this is Poussin's only comment on the religious ceremonies of the Holy Year of 1650, to which all sections of the Roman Church contributed with the deepest enthusiasm. When we come to examine his paintings, we find that they confirm the fact that he stood apart from the official papal artists of his day and followed a line of marked independence, both in his choice of subjects and his method of treatment. 5. r'La fragillite de la fortune des hommes a tousiours hesoin de puissants et gaillards estane,ons. Neanmoins que Ton die quil ne se faut point fier aux princes ni au fils des hommes la ou il ni a point de salut. Neanmoins nous voyons bien souvent que Thornine est un dieu a l'Momme" (Correspomlance, p. 311). The quotation is from Ps. 146:3. 6. frL*on dit icy que Sa Saintete ne se porte pas bien. Sil nous manque dieu nous donne mieux" (Corrcspomlance, p. 262). ". . . dieu veille que nous soyons mieus governes a radvenir que par le passe" (ibid., p. 282). His remark on the election of Innocent X is hardly enthusiastic: rf Nous avons un Pape de qui Ton espere beaucoup de bien dieu le veille" (ibid., p. 287). 7. f. . . je me console en quelque maniere de ce que vous recepveres Pextreme oncsion sans estre malade et devant

quo jayc entendu les plaintes que commensies a fere de ne pas recepvoir se sacrement au temps que je vous Pavois promis. NOUS le recepveres non pas dun prebtrc mais du messagier de Lion" (ibid., pp. 295f). Chantelou evidently enjoyed the joke, because he mentions it in the short summary that he wrote at the head of the letter. 8. 'rIl ne se passe ici rien de nouveau plus remarquable que les miracles qui se font si frequamment que e'est merveille. La procession de Florence y a apporte un crucifix de bois de co a qui la barbe est venue, et les cheveux lui croissent tous les jours de plus de quatre doigts. L'on dit que le Pape le tondra Tun de ses jours en seremonie* (ibid., p. 414). The actual text, which is only known from the copy in the Institut, has a blank at ff de bois de co ." It has been suggested that the incomplete word may be cocoticr, "coconut palm."

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POUSSIN'S RELIGIOUS IDEAS Except when forced by a commission that he could not refuse, he never painted the visions and martyrdoms that were the stock in trade of Baroque painters, nor did he celebrate the newly canonized saints, whose worship was so popular in Rome and in some circles in Paris in the seventeenth century.9 Instead, he concentrated on what may be called the central themes of the New Testament — the Holy Family, the Nativity, the Baptism, and the Passion — and on a wide range of subjects from the Old Testament which are unusual enough in seventeenth-century art to merit careful analysis. On examination, the Old Testament themes turn out, with only one exception, to belong to the category of types of salvation, as they were regularly used from very early times and throughout the Middle Ages. The list reads as follows: the Sacrifice of Noah (original lost); Hagar (painting and drawing); Eliezer and Rebecca (two versions); themes from the life of Moses (nineteen known in the original or through engravings): the victories of Joshua and Gideon (three subjects); the Plague at Ashdod; the Triumph of David (two versions); and the story of Esther.10 Generally speaking, these subjects are common in medieval art, though they are much rarer in Poussin's time; but one is quite exceptional even in earlier centuries. This is the theme of Moses sweetening the waters of Marah, shown in an early painting now in the Baltimore Museum (pi. 25).H The subject occurs in Justus of Ghent's altarpiece of the Crucifixion at Ghent, but seems otherwise not to be known in the fifteenth, sixteenth, or seventeenth centuries. In the Middle Ages it is exceedingly rare, and the only instance known to me is in a twelfth-century Regensburg manuscript.^ But significantly, it is found twice at least in the fifth century in Rome, once in the mosaics on the nave walls in Santa Maria Maggiore, and once on the doors of Santa Sabina. Poussin would have known both these models, which would in his time have been regarded as examples of late antique art and were studied as such by Cassiano dal Pozzo. What is more surprising is to find him representing a subject that was rare in the fifth century and had almost completely vanished during the intervening centuries. There was, however, almost certainly a further link through written sources. The sweetening of the waters of Marah is quoted by all the early Christian apologists as one of the most impor9. The exceptions are as follows: the decoration for the Jesuits in Paris in 1623, when he was too young to refuse any commission: the St. Erasmus for St. Peter's: the St. Francis Xai'ier for Sublet de Noyers: and the Virgin Aj)ftearing to St. James (early, and apparently commissioned for a church in Flanders, perhaps by a patron in Rome). The only unexplained case is the lost Vision of Sla. France sea Romana (pi. 264), but it is possible that the painting was commissioned by Clement IX, to whom the engraving after it is dedicated. Even the list of more traditional post-New Testament saints in his works is surprisingly short: St. Cecilia, St. Catherine, and St. Margaret. 10. The only remaining Old Testament subject, the Judg-

inent of Solomon, is not a type of salvation hut is an obvious illustration of the theme of justice and is, therefore, in keeping with Poussin's more secular type of morality. 11. The study of Poussin's religious ideas cannot be exactly confined to the 1640's. This was the period when they reached their fullest expression, but naturally they were partially developed before that decade, 12. Munich, Staatsbibliothek, Clm. 14159. Cf. A. Boeckler, Die Regensburg-Priifevinger Buchmalerei des XII. nnd XIII. Jahrhunderts, Munich, 1924, p. 37, No. 21 and pi. XXIX, fig. .33. On the same page there appear also the stories of the staff of Aaron changed into a serpent, and the victory of Joshua over the Amalekites, both subjects treated by Poussin.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN tant of the types of salvation in the early books of the Old Testament, the interpretation of the story being that the water, that is to say, mankind, has been made bitter by the serpent, Sin, and is sweetened by the wood of the Cross. Other subjects painted by Poussin are also quoted by the early writers, but it is significant that the theme of Marah is only found in those of the third and fourth centuries and is later dropped in favor of the more familiar story of the Striking of the Rock. 13 The other subjects from Jewish history are of interest in that they are rarely found represented in the art of the seventeenth century, and a high proportion of them are types of salvation through the Sacraments. Poussin twice painted the story of the infant Moses trampling on Pharaoh's crown (pis. 165, 166), a subject not mentioned in the Bible but taken from Josephus. It is very rarely depicted in the seventeenth century, and Poussin may have been led to it either by an interest in Josephus or by the fact that it occurred in the Speculum humanae salvationis as a type of salvation.14 From Josephus comes also the capture of Jerusalem, a subject that Poussin painted twice during the years before the journey to Paris (pi. 117, and fig. 59). The medieval tradition which treated this subject as symbolizing God's vengeance on the Jews for the death of Christ was still alive in the seventeenth century and is found, for instance, in a poem by G. B. Lalli, Tito Vcspasiono, overo Gcrusalcmmc disolata.^ Paintings of Moses and the daughters of Jethro are not unknown at the time of the Renaissance or in the seventeenth century — the most famous example is the fresco by Botticelli in the Sistine Chapel — but the manner in which Poussin treats it, at least in the drawing that embodies his final conception of the theme (fig. 149), is so abstract that it is tempting to suggest that he may have had in mind the elaborate allegory erected on it by Philo, who makes of the story a symbol of the victory of reason over the five senses.16 1.3. It is quoted, for instance, by the following: Origen

Massimi, Poussin's best Roman patron in his later years

Homiliae in Exodnm 7. 3; Tertullian De baptismo 9: Didymus of Alexandria De trinitate 2. 14: Ambrose De mysteriis 3. 14, De saeramentis 2. 4. 12, 4. 4. 18: Hilary of Poitiers Tractatus mysteriorum .33. It is also quoted in the same sense by Philo (cf. Erwin R. Goodenough. By Light, Light, New Haven, 1935. pp. 187, 209). For a general discussion of the significance of the subject, see Jean Danielou, Sacramentum futtiri. Paris, 1950, pp. 147f. 196. 14. A woodcut of the subject from the first printed edition, Utrecht. 1471-73. is reproduced in the Bulletin. Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, LIV, Winter 1956, p. 89. A. Pigler (Barockthemen, Budapest, 1956. I. p. 91) records paintings of the subject attributed to Pierfrancesco Mola and Giovanni Francesco Romanelli. To these may be added a painting wrongly ascribed to Pietro da Cortona in the museum at Toulouse. As a pair to one version, Poussin painted another very rare theme, Aaron's rod turned into a serpent (pi. 167), the rod being also, according to Ambrose (De saeramentis 4. 1. 1). a symbol of Baptism. These paintings were commissioned by Cardinal Camillo

and a man of great erudition, whose library contained a copy of Josephus. the Bibliofheca magna rabbinica of Julius Bartoloccius, and several Hebrew manuscripts, 15. Opcre poctiche, Milan, 1630, p. 103. The opening lines read: Canto il Romano Eroe, che saggio e forte Distrussa di Sion Teccelse mura, E vendico del Redentor la morte Contra la gente Ebrea perversa, e dura. Pianse ella in van sua dolorosa sorte, Ne le difese in van pose ogni cura: Ch'ei. de' Tiranni adonta. c de I'inferno Fu esecutore del gran decrcto eterno. 16. Cf. De mutatione nom'nmm 110, 112, 113, and Goodenough, op. cit., pp. 200f. Philo constructs a similar allegory on the crossing of the Red Sea and the destruction of Pharaoh's host, which symbolize for him the victory of reason over pleasure and the senses, again a theme dear to the heart of Poussin. It is given the same meaning by Origen (cf. Danielou, op. cit., pp. 163f).

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149. Poussin. Moses and the Daughters of Jethro. Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre. Paris

The two victories of Joshua over the Amorites and the Amalekites, painted during Poussin's very first years in Rome (pis. 4, 5), were also favorites with the early Fathers. Justin attaches great importance to them, because the name of Joshua is the same as that of Jesus, and Moses' gesture of holding up his arms and so gaining the victory over the Amalekites is a symbol of the victory of Christ on the Cross. The same idea is found repeated in Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, Cyprian, Tertullian, Prudentius, and Hilary of Poitiers.17 As regards subjects which refer directly to the Sacraments, the gathering of the Manna is a common symbol for the Eucharist, but all the rest refer to Baptism. The story of Noah and that of Moses striking the rock, 18 which Poussin painted three times, combine the water of Baptism with the wood of the Cross, as also does the story of the exposing and finding of Moses (painted five times), in which the ark of bulrushes stands for the wood of the Cross. Of the others, the stories of Rebecca, Moses and the daughters of Jethro, and the crossing of the Red Sea all contain the element of water, the symbol of Baptism. An analysis of the New Testament themes leads to similar results. Poussin represents a number of subjects that were rare and archaic in his day, or represents them in an unusual manner, and there is a striking recurrence of the theme of Baptism or of subjects that allude to it allegorically. A few examples will suffice to make this point clear. Generally speaking, the Holy Families are straightforward in their iconography, but some seem to contain allegorical allusions. The most interesting is the Holy Family on the Steps (pi. 172), which presents a number of iconographical peculiarities. The student may feel encouraged to seek out hidden meanings in the picture by the fact that the engraving made after it by Claudine Stella, the niece of Poussin's friend Jacques 17. Cf. ibid., p. 207, and Hilary of Poitiers Tractatus mysteriorum. 18. Audran's engraving after Poussin's painting of this subject in the Hermitage (Andresen 61) has inscribed on

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it the passage from the Gospel of John (6:35): ffQui credit in me, non sitiet unquam," which supports the view that Poussin was conscious of the analogy between the Old Testament subject and Christian Salvation.

150. After Andrea del Sarto. Madonna del Sacco. Collection II. II. Schubart. Bristol

Stella, bears the inscription: Vcrc tu es Dens ah scon ditus. The composition of this picture is unusual in several respects: the setting with the figures seated on a flight of steps; the fact that Joseph is shown measuring with a pair of compasses; and the presence on the lowest step of a basket of fruit, a vase, and a casket. As regards the first point, it has been suggested19 that the Holy Family is here shown on the steps of the Temple, an unusual practice among painters. This hypothesis is strengthened by a comparison of the Holy Family with another of Poussin's religious compositions, 5/. Peter and St. John Healing the Lame Man (pi. 222), the scene of which takes place outside the Golden Gate of the Temple, which is depicted here in very much the same form as in the Holy Family, with two columns on the left at the top of a broad flight of steps.20 The figure of Joseph at first sight recalls Andrea del Sarto's Madonna del Sacco. which must certainly have been the model for Poussin's general design of the figures in this picture; but there is a difference, for in the sixteenth-century composition (fig. 150) 21 Joseph is shown reading, whereas Poussin shows him holding the compasses. The basic purpose of the two artists is probably the same: to illustrate the point that Joseph was a man of learning, an idea popularized by 19. Kaufl'mann, Ponssin-Studicn, p. 39. 20. The same setting occurs in Marcantonio's engraving after Raphael's Christ Teaching at the Gate of the Temple

(H. Delaborde, Marc-Anloine Raimondi, Paris, 1888. p. 99). 21. Figure 150 reproduces not Sarto's original but a copy by an artist very close to Poussin, possibly Jacques Stella.

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151. Carlo Dolci. The Gifts of the Magi. Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna

Isidoro Isolano in his Summa dc donis S. Joscphi, which appeared in 1522;22 but Poussin is more precise than Andrea del Sarto in his symbolism and seems to imply that Joseph was master not only of theology but also of the sciences which depend on mathematics. This would, incidentally, be in harmony with the high position that he himself accorded to these branches of knowledge. The idea had already been alluded to by Poussin in a slightly earlier painting, the Holy Family in the Temple (pi. 1446), in which Joseph is shown leaning on a ruler, while a T-square appears on a wall behind.23 The association of the ruler and compasses with the Temple of Solomon, later incorporated into Masonic symbolism, is of great antiquity and derives from the fact that the Temple was built according to the measurements revealed to Solomon by God himself. The symbolism of the objects on the bottom step is also of interest. There is nothing unusual in the basket of apples, one of which is offered to Christ by John, but the two vessels on the right are more puzzling. Both are of gold, and the casket is of a type frequently found in representations of the three Magi, and, although the dark brown lumps in the vase and the yellowish substance on the top of the casket are difficult to identify with certainty, they both appear to be some gum deposit, 22. Andrea, therefore, painted his fresco before the appearance of the book, but the latter probably incorporated ideas that were current at a slightly earlier date. 23. For a fuller discussion of the symbolism of the com-

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passes, see Blunt, "Blake's rAncicnt of Days.' " Another instance of their use in connection with Joseph is Barocci's Holy Family in the Metropolitan Museum, New York (see A. Venturi, Storia delVarte italiana, IX, 7, Milan, 1934, p. 930, fig. 516).

NICOLAS POUSSIN and may well be frankincense and myrrh.24 This hypothesis is confirmed by die fact that they are similar to the gifts offered by the kings in Poussin's painting of 1633 (pi. 74). The idea of representing the three gifts of the Magi in a sort of still life occurs at about the same date in a curious painting by Carlo Dolci in the Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna (fig. 151), in which the gold, myrrh, and frankincense occupy the whole of the foreground, while in the extreme background the Holy Family, represented as tiny figures, can be seen arriving at the temple. Poussin seems particularly to have used symbolism in his compositions connected with the journey of the Holy Family into Egypt. The lost painting of the Flight, known from the engraving by Benoit Audran the Elder (pi. 265),25 shows in the background an eagle killing a snake, a symbol used by the pseudo-Ambrose to signify Christ destroying Satan, and found frequently in medieval art.26 In the JR^.s^ on the Flight into Egypt, probably painted for Cardinal Giulio Rospigliosi, lost but known from engravings (pi. 256) , 27 the angels offer to the Christ child wine and honey, well-known symbols of salvation. The presence of the elephant in the background is an extension of the symbolism to the pagan field, since, as has already been said,28 [^ refers to the piety attributed to this animal by classical writers. The combination of Christian and pagan symbolism is also evident in the Return of the Holy Family from Egypt (pi. 36). It has been shown that the prefiguration of Christ's sufferings, clearly stated in the appearance of the Cross, is also underlined allusively by the parallel between the boatman about to ferry the Holy Family across the river and Charon ferrying souls across the Styx. The cross on the back of the donkey is another allusion to the Passion, for which the donkey is a suitable symbol as the animal that carried Christ on his entry into Jerusalem.^9 Poussin's New Testament paintings provide much evidence to show that he was deeply interested in Baptism and in the subjects that allude to it allegorically. Apart from the two series of Sacraments, he painted the Baptism itself four times in different forms: twice with John baptizing the people (pis. 102,103); once with John baptizing Christ, accompanied by four other figures (pi. 229); and once without any attendants at all (pi. 171). In many other cases the allusion to Baptism is clear. In the Holy Family ivitli the Bath Tub (pi. 209), for instance, the theme of washing the child, which is extremely rare in painting, is certainly an allusion to salvation through the water of Baptism. Poussin's last figure painting, the lost Clirist and the Woman of Samaria (pi. 239), also refers directly to Baptism through Christ's words, that he would give the woman ffthe living water," but the painting contains one very unusual feature. In the background on the right is a cave tomb, outside which crouches a mourning 24. Poussin no doubt knew and probably used the description of these substances given by Pliny (Naturalis historia 12. 30fT). John Shearman has pointed out {Andrea del Sarto, Oxford, 1965, I, p. 107) that Andrea del Sarto's Madonna del Sacco itself is probably a sort of Adoration of the Magi, in which the spectator, standing

on the ground below the fresco, is in the position of the adoring kings. 25. Andresen 145. 26. Cf. Wittkower, f*Eagle and Serpent," p. 310. 27. Andresen 152. 28. Cf. above, p. 154. 29. Cf. Mitchell.

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152. Carolingian Ivory. The Crucifixion Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Munich

figure. This is probably an example of the precision with which Poussin studied and followed his sources, because in his account of the incident, John states (4:5ff) that it took place outside the city of Sychar "near to the parcel of ground that Jacob gave to his son Joseph," and from the references to this gift in the Old Testament (Gen. 33:19 and Josh. 24:32) it is clear that the plot contained the tomb of Joseph. But it is also in the highest degree likely that, in introducing this detail, Poussin wished to point the contrast between the tomb and the scene in the foreground, between the death of the old dispensation and the life of the new. Poussin's only painting of the Crucifixion (pi. 168) has also interesting iconographical details. As his main theme he has chosen the moment when the centurion has pierced the side of Christ and water and blood flow from the wound. This is a common symbol for salvation by Baptism in the early Fathers;^0 but the painting contains another feature which is very rare in the Renaissance and possibly unique in the seventeenth century. Poussin has shown in the foreground a grave opening and a dead man rising from it. This is, of course, a literal rendering of Matt. 27:52, "And the graves were opened; and many bodies of the saints which slept arose." It is, however, also a theme 30. Cf. Danielou, op. cit., p. 172, who quotes Gregory of Elvira and Cyril of Jerusalem. Cf. also Tcrtullian Dc baptismo 9. 1 and 16. 2. and Ambrose De sacramentis 5. 2. 4.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN 51

that was much used in medieval art.-* particularly in Carolingian ivories, some of which may have been known to Poussin in Rome and which are in style so classical that in the seventeenth century they were probably regarded as works of late antique art. Some of these show "the saints" in the plural, some show only a man and a woman, symbolizing Adam and Eve (fig. 152), and some a man only, Adam, as in Poussin's painting.'32 In almost all cases, moreover, this motive is combined with the piercing of Christ's side by the spear. What has been said about the iconography of Poussin's religious works should make it clear that it was no matter of chance that his most important paintings of Christian subjects in the middle years of his career were two series representing the seven Sacraments. The first set (pis. 130136), executed for Cassiano dal Pozzo between 1636 and 1642, has already been referred to; the second (pis. 154-160) was carried out in the years 1644—48 for his Parisian patron and friend Paul Freart de Chantelou. The choice of the Sacraments as a theme may not seem to need any comment or explanation, but, in fact, representations of them are surprisingly rare in art before the seventeenth century, and almost unknown in painting.^ In sculpture they occur in the series by Andrea Pisano on the Campanile at Florence, and, outside Italy, on Anton Pilgram's pulpit in the Stephansdom, Vienna, and on many English fonts of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. They were also the subject of Flemish fifteenth-century tapestries,-34 and they were later popularized in Flemish and French engravings, but they never seem to have been taken up as subjects by painters. Indeed, the only examples known to me in Italian painting are the frescoes by Roberto Oderisi in Santa Maria Incoronata at Naples, where they are set in parallel with Old Testament scenes from the lives of Joseph, Moses, and Samson.-3r> In Northern painting they occur twice in works by Rogier van der Weyden, once in the altarpiece now in the Antwerp museum, and once in the painted frame of the Crucifixion in the Prado. Lucas van Leyden also designed a series of paintings for the Protestant church of Gouda, now only known from three fragmentary drawings.-30 There must have been some special reason that caused Cassiano dal Pozzo to commission from Poussin seven compositions representing the Sacraments, for there seems to have been no previous example of their having been thus made the subject of separate canvases, nor of their being painted for a private individual. .31. Alter the Middle Ages it is extremely rare. It occurs. however, in Veronese's Crucifixion in the Accademia, Venice. 32. Cf. A. Goldschmidt. Die Elfcnhei)iskull)furcn aus der Zed der karolingiseJien mid saclisisclioi Kaiser, I. Berlin. 1914, figs. 41.56, 78. 83. 85. 88. etc. The reference is to I Cor. 15:22: "For as in Adam all die. even so in Christ shall all be made alive.*' 33. Freart de Chambray (Idee. p. 127) particularly mentions that the idea of painting the seven Sacraments had not been realized before the time of Poussin.

34. Cf. W. Wells. f"The Seven Sacraments Tapestry. A New Discovery.*" BM. CI. 1959, p. 97. A particularly splendid example of their use in textiles is a cope from the Arenberg collection recently acquired for the Detroit Institute of Arts (cf. Adele C. Weihel, frFlemish Orphreys on a Cope." Bulletin of The Detroit Institute of Arts, XLI. Spring 1962, pp. 48ff). 3r>. Cf. W. Rolfs. Gesclticlite der Malerei Nea^cls. Leipzig, 1910. pp. 54ff and figs. 23fT. 36. Cf. M. Friedlander, Allnicdcrlandiselie Malerei, X, Berlin. 1932, p. 104.

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POUSSIN'S RELIGIOUS IDEAS The explanation is not easy to find. There is no evidence that Pozzo was connected with any religious body or movement particularly devoted to the Sacraments; indeed, there is nothing to suggest that he was closely related to any particular order or religious body at all. The impulse must, therefore, have come from some personal predilection on his part. The idea of painting the Sacraments would fit in with the religious temper of his circle, as reflected in the work of Poussin himself, since it concentrates attention on a central point of religious dogma and is far removed from the emotional and ecstatic Catholicism expressed in Roman Baroque art. Furthermore, the Sacraments played an essential part in the writings of the early Christian apologists with whom Poussin, and presumably Pozzo, were in sympathy. But there is one particular feature in their treatment of the subject which might have appealed to the artist and his friends. The word sacrament is merely the Latin equivalent for the Greek |j.uaTV]piov, and many of the early Fathers make considerable play with the parallel between the Mysteries of Greek religion and the Sacraments of Christianity.-37 If we are right in concluding from some of his earlier paintings that Poussin and his Roman friends were interested in comparative religion, then the analogy between the Mysteries and the Sacraments might have been of great significance to them. The Sacraments would have represented that basic truth which runs through all forms of religion, whether Christian or pagan, and as such would have expressed the belief in religion as above sect or creed, which, as we shall see later, was an opinion strongly held by certain of Poussin's friends in Paris who were in close touch with Cassiano dal Pozzo and his circle. Whatever Poussin's motive for painting the Sacraments, his manner of doing so was in the highest degree original. In previous versions, the subjects had always been represented as scenes of everyday life, with people in contemporary dress receiving the Sacraments from the hand of a priest. Poussin, conceiving the problem in a quite different spirit, gives the scene a generalized, timeless character. To illustrate five of the Sacraments, he chooses episodes from the Gospels: Baptism by John baptizing Christ in the Jordan, Penance by the Magdalen washing Christ's feet, Ordination by the giving of the keys to St. Peter, Marriage by the marriage of the Virgin, and Eucharist by the Last Supper. For the other two, no obvious model occurs in the New Testament, though for Confirmation, Poussin could have chosen the laying on of hands by Peter and John (Acts 8:14-17) or by Paul (19:1-7). In fact, however, for both Confirmation and Extreme Unction, instead of taking a specific incident,*38 he represents the actual giving of the Sacrament, but he removes the scene from actuality and gives it the same generalized character as the other paintings of the series by placing the figures in a setting of classical architecture and dressing them according to the manner of the ancients. .37. Cf. F. Probst, Die Litnrgie tier drci erstcn chrislliclien Jahrhnnderlc, Tubingen, 1870, pp. 84fT, 186. .38. The fanciful attempt of Marignan to identify the scene of Extreme Unction in the second series with the death of Louis XIII does not carry conviction. His at-

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tempt to connect Confirmation vvitli an episode described by Eusebius which took place during the persecution of the Christians in A.D. 177 in Lyons is more plausible, but breaks down owing to the fact that Eusebius makes no reference at all to Confirmation in this passage.

NICOLAS POUSSIN In using ancient Roman dress and setting, Poussin had, however, a precise purpose in mind, for a detailed study of the Sacraments seems to show beyond any doubt that he made a deliberate effort to represent the subjects in conformity with the practice of the early Church, a project apparently without parallel at the time. In the two versions of Baptism (pis. 136, 156) there is nothing unusual from the iconographical point of view, and the same can be said of Marriage (pis. 135, 160), though the attention drawn to the flowering rod of Joseph is exceptional, and is no doubt an allusion to Aaron's rod, which flowered again as a symbol of the birth of Christ.-39 In the two renderings of Penance (pis. 132, 157) there are no allusions to early Christian ritual, but Poussin shows Christ and the Apostles lying on couches instead of seated at the table. This practice had been introduced into painting and engraving at the end of the sixteenth century, but it had never been accepted as a general practice by artists.40 Poussin was certainly making a conscious gesture of archaeological precision in using it, as we know from one of his letters to Chantelou in which he tells him of his project with a certain pride. 41 In the two paintings of Extreme Unction (pis. 133, 154) the most striking feature is the severely classical character of the whole scene, and it has been said that Poussin has primarily represented the death of an ancient Roman, though the ceremony of the anointing with oil is being carried out according to the ritual of the Roman Church. This might be accepted as a fair comment on the first version — and it was perhaps this painting that provoked Horace Walpole's remark, "Old Romans don't make good Christians," when he saw the Pozzo Sacraments4^ — but it would not apply to the second, in which a subtle change has been introduced. The circular panel on the back wall of the first version has been replaced by a shield to indicate that the dying man is a soldier. But there is more to it than that, because on the boss of the shield is engraved the monogram ^ , which proves that he was a soldier of Christ. The monogram probably has a more precise significance, because it was first used when Constantine had it inscribed on the shields of his soldiers after the vision of the Cross which foretold his victory at the Milvian Bridge, so that Poussin may well have intended by 39. Cf. Arthur Watson, The Early Iconography of the Tree of Jesse. Oxford, 1934, pp. 3ff. When he saw the Chantelou version in 1665. Bernini commented on the slight anachronism of showing a Christian priest performing the marriage (Chantelou. p. 66: reprinted in Thuillier, "Pour un "Corpus Pussinianum.'" p. 125). The comment is not fully justified, because in reality the figure is dressed in vaguely classical dress, but in the earlier version, which Bernini must have seen in Rome, he is dressed as a bishop in miter and cope. It is possible that Poussin deliberately avoided giving him Jewish vestments to emphasize the fact that his composition symboli/ed Christian marriage, and then, disturbed by the an-

achronism in the first version, adopted the noncommittal dress of the second. 40. For a discussion of the revived use of the triclinium in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, cf. Blunt, "The Triclinium." 41. Corresfromlatice. p. 272. There may be some implied symbolism in the emphasis on the washing of feet as an analogy with Baptism, and in the fact that among the dishes displayed on the table, bread and fish are prominent, the first an allusion to the Eucharist, the second a common early symbol for Christ. They are regularly found in early representations of the Last Supper (cf. Goldschmidt. op. cit., I, fig. 22). 42. XIV, p. 423.

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POUSSIN'S RELIGIOUS IDEAS this symbol to pitch his scene in the time of the first Christian Emperor. This hypothesis is confirmed by the fact that Bellori refers to the inscription on the shield as frconforme l'uso de gli antichi soldati Christiani." 43 For the depiction of Eucharist (pis. 131, 159), Poussin again introduces the triclinium, but this time with much more solemn effect. In both versions he chooses the moment when Christ blesses the cup. In the first version there do not seem to be any hidden allusions, but in the second, the artist brings in several other incidents of the story by implication. The laver, pots, and cloth in the foreground refer to Christ's washing of the disciples' feet before the supper,44 no doubt a further allusion to Baptism. The figure going out of the room in the left background is Judas — there are only eleven Apostles at the table — and in this way Poussin also refers to the betrayal of Christ.45 Finally, he also alludes to the breaking of the bread by showing the Apostles holding it in their hands. As has been pointed out, 46 this detail is of great significance, because it proves that Poussin intended to show that Christ had given the bread into the hands of the Apostles and had not put it into their mouths. This is in accordance with the very early practice of the Church, and St. Cyril of Jerusalem, for instance, lays it down that the communicant should receive the bread in the palm of the right hand supported by the left.47 The practice was, however, dropped at a very early date, and this example therefore provides clear proof that Poussin was consciously following the liturgy of the early Church where it differed from the practice of his own day.48 From this point of view, however, the most interesting paintings of the whole series are the two versions of Confirmation (pis. 130, 155). The earlier picture is relatively simple. The scene takes place in a church, the architecture of which recalls fairly closely Giacomo della Porta's Sant' Atanasio dei Greci (fig. 153), which stood exactly opposite Poussin's house. The actual Confirmation is shown in two stages. In the foreground, a priest anoints the forehead of a child with the chrism, while behind him, slightly to the left, another priest binds a fillet on the forehead of a second child who has already received the chrism. To the right of the first priest is an altar, beside which burns the Paschal candle to indicate that the scene is taking place on Easter Eve, the day laid down in the early Church as appropriate for Baptism and Confirmation.4^ The moonlight striking the clouds 43. P. 435. 44. Cf. Montagu, p. 310. 45. The similarly placed figure in the first version is only a servant, since there are twelve Apostles at the table. 46. Montagu, loc. cit. 47. Catechesh mystagogica 5. 21. Certain Carolingian ivories show the bread being given by Christ into the hands of the Apostles (e.g., the cover of the Sacramentary of Drogo [Goldschmidt, op. cit., I, fig. 74b]). For a fuller discussion of the liturgical problem, see Probst, op. cit., pp. 174, 205, and idem, Die Liturgie des vierten Jahrhunderts, Munster, 1893, p. 270.

48. As Miss Montagu has shown. Poussiifs painting of the Institution of the Eucharist, commissioned by Louis XIII for the chapel at St.-Germain, is also unusual in that, instead of depicting the Last Supper, it shows Christ standing and administering Communion to the Apostles. This is common in Byzantine art, but it had been revived in Italy about 1600 in a lew paintings, particularly Barocci's altarpiece in Santa Maria sopra Minerva. 49. For most of the details here quoted about the liturgy of the Confirmation service, see L. Duchesne, Christum Worship London, 1912, pp. 292(1, and J. M. Hanssens, La Liturgie d'Hi^Jolyte, Rome, 1959.

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153. Giacomo della Porta. Sant'Atanasio dei Greci, Rome

visible through the window in the transept wall further indicates that it is after dark. This is in accordance with early tradition, because the Paschal candle was lit in the evening of the day before Easter. All the figures wear classical dress, except for a turbaned man on the left.50 In the second version, the allusions to the early times of the Church are clearer. The scene takes place in a completely closed building supported by tall Corinthian columns, far more Roman than the Cinquecento architecture of the first setting. Behind the principal group is a chamber containing two huge sarcophagi, and in the extreme background is a door opening into a farther room, in which it is just possible to see the dead body of a man laid out. These details seem to indicate fairly clearly that the scene is taking place in the Roman catacombs. Poussin's rendering of them is not in accordance with modern archaeological ideas, but it conforms to the knowledge then available 50. The exact significance of introducing an Oriental is not clear, unless it is to indicate that the scene is taking place in the East; hut it is worth noticing that a similar figure appears in two paintings of the Baptism, one painted for Pozzo and now in the Biihrle collection, Zurich (pi. 103), the other, also dating from the later

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thirties, in the Louvre (pi. 102). If Poussin's intention was to locate the scene in the East, he may have had the same idea in mind when he selected for the setting the church of Sant'Atanasio dei Greci. which belongs to an order of monks who follow Roman doctrine but use Eastern rites.

POUSSIN'S RELIGIOUS IDEAS in works such as Antonio Bosio's Roma sottcrratica/^ which, as we shall see, Poussin certainly studied. Since the room in which the scene occurs is completely enclosed, there is no means of knowing the time of day, but Poussin has indicated it in a different way by showing the Paschal candle actually being lit. A further allusion to the fact that it is Easter Eve is the presence in the back chamber of a vast basin, which had evidently been used for Baptism. Its size, incidentally, indicates that it is for total immersion, a practice abandoned in the West at an early date, and its presence suggests that the Baptism of the people being confirmed has taken place recently. This would be in accordance with early practice, when Baptism and Confirmation were administered on the same day and almost as part of the same ceremony.5^ The juxtaposition of the dead body in the distant chamber and the font just in front of it is probably not fortuitous, but is an allusion to the death of the old man required before the rebirth of Baptism. If this was so, the significance of the whole process of regeneration, ending with the Confirmation of the gift of the Holy Ghost, would be indicated in the painting, just as all the elements of Eucharist are referred to in the painting of that theme. Certain other details in this painting are of interest from an iconographical point of view. On the extreme right stands a youth sprinkling those who come in with hyssop. This was originally a Jewish practice, but it was taken over by the Christian Church and is referred to by Ambrose in his discussion of the Sacraments.5-^ The server kneeling in the left foreground holds the chrism, while one beside the farther priest carries a plate with the lint which the priest was to bind round the foreheads of those who had received the consignation with the chrism. A third server immediately behind the seated priest carries a dish on which is a yellowish substance, which must be the milk and honey administered as a symbol of the body of Christ and of the promise of salvation, for which the land flowing with milk and honey was a type.154 In the first version, Poussin had shown two children receiving Confirmation, but now he changes this and shows people of a variety of ages, from childhood through youth to manhood, perhaps to emphasize the fact that in the early Church, Baptism and Confirmation of mature persons was common. Poussin has evidently taken great pains over the costume in this picture. It is at first sight surprising that the figures coming to receive the Sacrament are not clothed in white, as has long been normal practice; but this was not so in the very early days of the Church, and it has been concluded from the fact that Tertullian makes no reference to white garments, that they were not prescribed till after his time.55 Poussin has also carefully distinguished the vestments of the two priests taking part in the ceremony. The one in the background wears a perfectly simple cloak, but the seated figure in front is 51. Rome, 1651, I, pp. 309-21: and below, p. 332. 52. Cf. Canon 48 of the Council of Laodicea (ca. A.D. 360). 53. De sacramentis 4. 2. 6.

54. Cf. Ilansscns. op. cit., p. 14.3 and Tertullian De corona 6.1. 55. Tertullian De baplismo (Sources chretiennes, ed. R. F. Refoule, Paris, 1952, Introduction, p. 4 1 ) .

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154. Early Christian Sarcophagus. The Deceased (detail) Lateran Museums, Rome

more elaborately dressed. He wears an alb with an amice covering his head and an elaborately embroidered stole. These vestments are no doubt intended to indicate the fact that he is a priest of some rank, perhaps a bishop, who, according to some of the Fathers, were the only priests allowed to consecrate the chrism used in Confirmation.56 The dress of those who approach the seated priest is also more carefully studied than in the first version. The women standing to the right are dressed according to the manner of the ancient Romans, with the stola and the long palla. The boy kneeling in front of them has the correct short tunic, and the little girl behind him has the elaborate coifFure to be found in many Roman statues. The youth at her left wears what appears to be the ordinary toga, but the man kneeling next to him, who is actually receiving Confirmation, is dressed in a more unusual manner. His toga is unlike that of his neighbor in that it has a broad flat band stretching from the left shoulder across the chest. This corresponds to a form of toga introduced at a late date and to be found in many portraits of the late second and early third centuries, but it is also common on sarcophagi, and Poussin's model might have been a sarcophagus in the Lateran (fig. 154). 57 In one point, however, Poussin has blundered. He makes the toga itself of a dull red and the band of a deep purple. Colored togas were worn by certain classes of distinguished Romans and, although they are described as f 'purple," this 56. Curiously enough. Holstenius, whose advice Poussin probahly took (see below, p. 207), maintains that in the earliest times a priest was allowed to bless the chrism (cf. Nikolaus Wilcken, Lcbcn des Gelehrten Lucae llolstcnii, Hamburg, 1723, p. 55). 57. For a discussion of the toga, see L. M. Wilson, The

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Roman Toga, Baltimore, 1924, particularly pp. 49-51. 75-77. and figs. .38b, 42, 43, and 51. Poussin may have known Tertulliaifs De pallio, Girolamo Bosso's De romana toga, Ticino, 1614, and De senator u-m lato clavo, Ticino, 1618.

155. Poussin. Drawing jar fT Confirmation" The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

color had a wide range and could include the dull red that Poussin uses for the main part of the garment; but the band should be of the same color as the rest, since it is only a part of the toga folded over. As, however, Poussin's knowledge of ancient dress must mainly have been derived from sculpture, the evidence about color available to him would necessarily have been scanty, and he was probably deceived by the fact that in some statues and sarcophagi showing this particular toga the band looks like a completely separate garment/*8 This small error does not, however, affect the main issue. By the choice of this particular toga, Poussin has succeeded in indicating that the person represented is a man of distinction and that he lived at a late period, when Christianity was beginning to make converts among the more educated classes of the Roman Empire. If any doubt remains that these various points were introduced consciously by Poussin, confirmation of his intention is to be found in the preliminary drawings for the second version of the subject, in which the artist can be seen making them steadily clearer and more explicit. The first drawing (fig. 155) shows the general disposition of the figures, but with hardly any of the details connected with the liturgy of the ceremony, except that one server appears standing and holding the chrism in front of the altar, on which are a ewer and a candle. Two other servers stand, inactive, 58. He may have thought that this hand represented the latus claims or purple horder used on the togas of senators and other persons of importance, hut this, in fact, was along the edge of the toga which fell vertically.

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156. Poussin. Drawing for "Confirmation" Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris

t 0,

157. Poussin. Drawing for ^Confirmation." Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre. Paris

158. Poussin. Drawing for "Confirmation." Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre. Paris

by the altar. In the next studies (figs. 156, 157) a server takes the ewer and a basin from the altar, the one holding the chrism is moved to the foreground, and a second server is introduced between the two Confirmation groups. In the next drawing (fig. 158) the server in the foreground is shown kneeling and the vestment of the priest and the band across the toga of the kneeling man are clearly defined. The last study (fig. 159) r>9 shows all the essential features of the painting: the lighting of the Paschal candle, the hyssop, the font, the sarcophagi, and the server taking a dish from the altar. It differs only in that the figure in the foreground is bareheaded and does not wear the vestment that distinguishes him in the painting. 60 The two versions of Ordination (pis. 134, 158) obviously will not reveal any curious liturgical points, since they represent a scene from the Gospels, but they are of great interest from other points of view. To illustrate the theme, Poussin has chosen the giving of the keys to St. Peter as described in Matt. 16:16-19, a passage that is found very early in the Apostolic Constitutions in relation to the Ordination of bishops and is used in the Roman Pontifical for the Ordination of priests.61 59. Classified as a studio work in CR (I, p. 44, No. A 20), but almost certainly original. 60. The Print Cabinet in Amsterdam contains a drawing attributed to Poussin but actually by an Italian artist of the seventeenth century, which shows a bishop administering Confirmation. The scene is taking place in a low vaulted building supported by Doric pilasters, which looks like a sort of crypt and might be intended to represent the catacombs. The drawing is not distinct enough

to say with certainty whether the figures are in classical costume or not, but they appear to be. It seems likely that the artist was influenced by Poussin's version of the subject. 61. Lolmeysen (p. 138) maintains that this painting is intended to support papal claims to temporal authority, but there seems no reason to think that Poussin had in mind anything but the institution of the priesthood and its right to give absolution.

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159. Poussin. Drawing for 'Confirmation." The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

In the first version, Poussin has looked to Raphael for the disposition of his figures and has done little more than transpose the tapestry design of Feed My Sheep (fig. 160) into a new landscape setting. The second version, however, is altogether different. As in all the paintings of the second series, the figures are closely modeled on ancient Roman sculpture, and their robes fall in almost marble folds. In this case, moreover, it is possible to point to a particular work that Poussin seems to have taken as a model for his design. This is an early Christian sarcophagus, now in the Louvre (fig. 161), which in Poussin's day was in the Borghese collection and was also well known through the engraving in Bosio.62 It shows Christ standing, flanked by the Apostles, handing a scroll to St. Peter. The general disposition of the figures in two groups, symmetrically arranged about Christ, is like that in Poussin's composition, and there are even certain similarities in the poses of the figures — the Apostle to the left swinging forward with his weight on one foot, and the alternation of profile and full-face views in the group on the right. The connection can, however, be established much more precisely than through general similarities of this kind. The sarcophagus in question belongs to a family called the "city-gate" type, which are characterized by the fact that the figures are shown set against a background of architecture that seems to represent the walls and gates of Jerusalem. 63 Poussin's painting shows in the background a town, but in this version it has very little relation to what appears on the sarcopha62. Roma sotterranea, Rome, 1651,1, p. 301.

63. Cf. M. Lawrence, r*City-Gate Sarcophagi," AB, X, 1927, pp. Iff.

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160. Raphael. Feed My Sheep. Victoria and Albert Museum, London

161. Early Christian Sarcophagus. Christ and the Twelve Apostles. Louvre. Paris

162. Poussin. Drawing for ''Ordination." Present whereabouts unknown

* V ..

163. Poussin. Draxcing for rrOrdination." The Pierpont Morgan Library. New York

164. Poiissin. Drawing for "Ordination." Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris

gus. In the first of the preliminary drawings, however (fig. 162), the resemblance is much closer, since there the Apostles are shown against a simplified version of the walls of a town. In an intervening stage (fig. 163) the walls still appear but are pushed much farther into the distance, and in the final painting this setting gives place to the view of a town with temples and a bridge. Another drawing by Poussin, representing the same subject but not directly connected with the Sacrament composition, provides a further link in the argument (fig. 164). It shows Christ handing to St. Peter not the keys, as he does in the painting, but a scroll, as in the sarcophagus and in others of the same family. Poussin ultimately abandoned this motive, no doubt in order to keep as closely as possible to the text of the Gospel, but the fact that he used the scroll in one drawing of the subject confirms the hypothesis that he was familiar with this group of sarcophagi. Fortunately evidence exists to establish this as a fact. In the Hermitage is a drawing which is either an original by Poussin or a very skillful and early copy (fig. 165), which is taken from the central group in one of these reliefs. It is not possible to say with absolute certainty which original Poussin used, but the probability is that it was a sarcophagus in the Lateran (cf. fig. 167), which he has followed accurately, except that he has left out the columns that separate the figures one from another.64 A column does actually appear at the right of the sheet, but this and the head next to it are details from the lid of a sarcophagus of the same type, showing the three Israelites refusing to bow down to the image of Dagon and the Adoration of the Magi.65 64. The Lateran sarcophagus is engraved in Bosio, op. cit., I, p. 317. A drawing after one sarcophagus of this type is in the series by Giovanni Battista Montano, now in the

Soane Museum, London, which belonged to Cassiano dal Pozzo. 65. G. Wilpert, / Sarcofogi cristiani anticlii, II Plates, Rome, 1932, pis. 199-201.

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165. Poussin. Drawing after an early Christian sarcophagus Hermitage Museum, Leningrad

166. Poussin. Drawing after a fresco in the catacombs Hermitage Museum. Leningrad

167. Early Christian Sarcophagus. Christ Amid Scenes from the Old and Nexu Testaments. Lateran Museums, Rome

POUSSIN'S RELIGIOUS IDEAS This is not a unique example of Poussin's copying early Christian works, because a further drawing of the same type exists in the Hermitage (fig. 166), which repeats two details taken from frescoes in the catacombs, one a funeral feast in the catacomb of SS. Peter and Marcellinus, the second a detail of a box of scrolls from another scene in the catacomb of St. Calixtus.66 Once again it may be noticed in passing that Poussin has paid attention to archaeological details of costume in this painting of the Ordination, for he has clothed Christ and the Apostles not in togas but in the pallium, which, according to Tertullian, was the special cloak of the Christians and which they are shown wearing in most sarcophagi of the city-gate group.67 Further problems are raised by the architectural background of the Ordination. On the left, just behind the principal group, is a strange structure, on the upper part of which is cut a large letter E. It has been suggested that this may stand for Emmanuel or Ecclesia, the second proposal being the more plausible since at least it would be relevant to the theme of the painting, the founding of the Roman Church. It does not, however, seem completely satisfactory, and another theory may be proposed. In his Moralia Plutarch devotes one whole section to the mysterious letter E which was inscribed over the sanctuary at Delphi. 68 Poussin was, as has been shown, a regular reader of Plutarch and almost certainly knew this essay, which, incidentally, is quoted in the early seventeenth century by Jean Pierre Camus, bishop of Belley, one of the protagonists of the Stoic revival in France, in his Divcrsitcs. published in 1609.69 Plutarch offers various explanations of the mysterious symbol, none of which, incidentally, he accepts as entirely satisfactory. One is that the letter signifies the Greek word FI, "thou art," which he takes to be addressed to the god worshiped at the sanctuary and to signify his eternal existence. Camus accepts this meaning of the word, but transfers it from Apollo to the Christian God. It is possible that Poussin had the same idea in mind, but in view of the words spoken to Peter by Christ in the scene depicted, "Thou art Peter . . . ," it is more likely that the letter E is merely a shorthand allusion to the theme of the painting. There is, however, the possibility that Poussin intended more than one kind of allusion in using a symbol of this kind. If it is the case that he was interested in the parallel between the Sacraments and the Mysteries of Greek religion, a hidden reference of this kind to the sanctuary of Apollo at Delphi, the center of the most famous of all the Mysteries, would be the appropriate way to introduce the parallel without making it intelligible to the profane.?0 66. Bosio. op. cit., I. p. 529. and II. p. 119. The fresco with the funeral feast seems also to have been the model for Philippe de Champaigne in his painting of the Last Supper now in the Institute of Arts. Detroit (cf. Blunt, "The Triclinium." p. 275 note 3 ) . 67. Cf. L. M. Wilson. The Clothing of the Ancient Romans. Baltimore. 1938. p. 81. 68. 384D. It appears on coins of Delphi (cf. J. N. Svoronos. Bulletin de correspondance hclleniquc, XX, 1896, pi. xxvii, fig. 12) .

69. Cf. J. Eymard d'Angers, Du Stoicisme chretien a Vhumanisme chrHien. Les "Diversites" de J. P. Camus. Meaux, 1952, p. 10. Pico della Mirandola also refers to the E, but in a much more mystical sense, as symbolizing the consummation of ecstasy (cf. Edgar Wind. Pagan Mysteries in the Renaissance, London. 1958. p. 62). 70. Miss Montagu tells me that the E occurs in a painting of the same subject by Jean Ranc in the cathedral of Montpellier.

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169. Salvator Rosa. The Grove of the Philosophers. Palazzo Pitti, Florence

The idea of using a letter of this type as a kind of philosophical signpost would not be unique. An instance of a similar usage occurs in a composition by Friedrich Sustris, the Clioiee of Here tiles, known from an engraving by Johann Sadeler (fig. 168). On the rock behind the hero is inscribed the capital letter Y, the upsilon of the Pythagoreans, which symbolized for them the choice of a good or evil life which was offered to every man.^ The parallel with Poussin's E is fairly evident, and though it cannot be proved that he knew the composition, it is not impossible, since Sadeler's engravings were current in Italy. If we turn back now to the first version of the Ordination (pi. 134), we may be struck by the scene taking place in the background, which appears to have no connection with the main subject of the picture. On the extreme left is a figure walking and reading from a book.^2 and to the right are three figures seated in the shade of some trees, apparently immersed in conversation. This looks very like the grove of the philosophers, a subject which was not unknown in seventeenth-century art and was treated by Salvator Rosa, an artist who moved in very much the same Roman circles as Poussin, in a famous composition now in the Pitti (fig. 169). 73 Once again, Poussin may be 71. Cf. Panofsky. Hercules am Sclieidewege, pp. 116f. 72. At first sight the figure might be taken to be an Apostle, but in fact there are twelve in the main group, of whom

one (Judas?) is almost completely concealed by another standing in front of him, so that only his head is visible, 73. Rosa's Grove of the Philosophers was actually painted when the artist was working in Florence.

203

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170. Poussin. Drawing for '"Ordination." Cabinet dcs Dessins, Louvre. Paris indicating the parallel between Christianity and the beliefs of classical antiquity, this time its philosophy rather than its religion.74 The background in the second version shows a careful reconstruction of an ancient town, presumably intended to represent Caesarea Philippi, where, according to Matthew, the scene took place. In the center is a bridge, for which Poussin has used the Roman bridge at Rimini as reconstructed by Palladio. 75 On the right is a curious building, composed of a square base supporting a pyramid. This is probably intended to be a tomb, and monuments of this type existed along the Appian Way. In Poussin's time they were ruined almost beyond recognition, but he may have known their original form through his learned friends. What is more curious, however, is the fact that tombs of this kind occur outside Jerusalem. The so-called Tomb of Absalom is very close to Poussin's structure, except that it has a conical upper part; but in the same valley are two others, one with an open portico, the other with a pyramid on a square base but without the portico (fig. 171). These tombs could have been known to Poussin, since they are engraved in various books recording pilgrimages to the Holy Land, notably in Giovanni Zuallardo's // dcvotissimo viaggio di Gcrusalcmmc, pub74. A drawing at Windsor showing two men disputing might be the study for such a subject. In the catalogue of the French drawings at Windsor (p. 47. No. 228). I classified it as a studio work, but it is very close indeed to Poussin's own manner of drawing. The other drawings for the Ordination (figs. 170,

164), one of which has already been mentioned as showing Christ handing a scroll to St. Peter, have as a setting the ruins of a Roman temple, which may have a significance analogous to that of the Delphic E and symbolize Roman religion. 75. Bk. Ill, ch. 11.

204

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171. Ancient tomb outside Jerusalem

lished in Rome in 1587.76 It would be in character for Poussin to introduce into such a painting a piece of Palestinian architecture, in order to give a precise setting to his subject.77 The great originality of Poussin's paintings of the Seven Sacraments can be brought out by a comparison with a version of one of them — Confirmation — by a Roman artist of the next generation, Carlo Maratta, who as much as anyone represented the official style of religious art in his day. This drawing (fig. 172) shows the Sacrament in the manner handed down in the tradition of engraving, that is to say, as an everyday scene in contemporary dress, a contrast in every way to Poussin's erudite, allusive, almost abstract conception. We may conclude that in the two series of Sacraments Poussin aimed at creating a version of the theme which was in accordance with the liturgical and theological principles of the early Christian apologists, and that there may be in some of them allusions to the Mysteries of the Greeks or the religion of the Romans. There is certainly about all of them, particularly the second series, a very strong flavor of classicism, due to the artist's careful study of ancient models. 76. Pp. 154, 157. 77. The use of pyramids for Jewish tombs is mentioned in I Mace. 13:28 and by Josephus (Bellum judaicum 6. 13. 913).

205

A similar tomb occurs in the Oxford Exposing of Moses (pi. 214) and in the Pyramus and Thisbe (pi. 187). In these cases, Poussin's intention was no doubt to point to an Eastern context, in the Moses to Egypt, and in the Pyramus to Babylon, the scene of the story.

172. Carlo Maratta. Confirmation. Stadelsches Kunstinstitut, Frankfurt a.M.

This blend of Christian and pagan elements would not have seemed strange to the early Christian apologists, for it is well known that, in addition to making the parallel between the Sacraments and the Mysteries, many Christian theologians of the second and third centuries borrowed widely from the philosophy of antiquity, adapting its doctrines to their own purposes. The particular sect with which they felt the closest sympathy was that of the Stoics, and it has been shown that writers like Justin, Irenaeus, Tertullian, Minucius Felix, and Clement of Alexandria maintained doctrines which are in many ways derived from Stoicism. Now, many of these apologists are the very writers whom Poussin seems to have used in his researches in preparation for the paintings of the Sacraments, and it will be shown that others, such as Minucius Felix and Clement of Alexandria seem to have influenced certain aspects of his thought which do not come to expression till his last years. In fact, Poussin would have felt very much at home in the atmosphere of these apologists, who referred to Seneca as sacpe nostcr, and whose view of the universe as the temple of God was strictly humanist, who were obsessed with the notion of the logos, and whose conception of God as supreme reason was completely Stoic.78 78. For an account of the Stoicism of the Fathers, see M . Spanneut, he Stoicisme des peres de Veglise, Paris, 1957.

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POUSSIN'S RELIGIOUS IDEAS It may well be objected to this view of Poussin's art that as a painter he was unlikely to have bothered his head about these fine points of theology, or, indeed, to have been capable of reading the Fathers in question. The evidence, however, seems to point in the other direction. We have already seen that in the field of classical mythology and history he had much more than a superficial knowledge; and if he was acquainted with the works of Macrobius and Aelian, there is no reason why he should not have known Tertullian and Ambrose. It is, moreover, quite certain that the people in whose circle he moved in Rome and for whom he painted were deeply versed in such matters. The learning of Cassiano dal Pozzo certainly extended beyond a knowledge of classical literature and art, and we know from his collection of drawings that he studied early Christian antiquities as well as classical sculpture. Unfortunately no list of his books survives, but in the case of Poussin's later friend and patron, Cardinal Camillo Massimi, we are better placed, since the inventory of his effects taken after his death includes his library as well as his collections of paintings, drawings, and coins.79 The manuscripts include some in Hebrew as well as those in Greek and Latin, and among the books, Justin and Lactantius appear with Cicero, Seneca, and Valerius Maximus, and the Bible in Hebrew and Syrian beside books on astrology. In addition to this library, which Poussin must have used freely, he could also draw on the much bigger library of Cardinal Francesco Barberini, now in the Vatican. This was exceptionally rich in works of the Christian Fathers, as well as in those of ancient poets and historians, and the manuscripts included many important texts that were not published till later.80 Moreover, Poussin could have drawn on the erudition of Holstenius (Lucas Holste), the cardinal's librarian, who was a specialist in the early Fathers and in the Byzantine historians and who himself edited some twenty works ranging from Epictetus, Arrian, and Strabo to Athanasius, Eusebius, and St. Benedict. Further, he composed a treatise on the Sacrament of Confirmation. With patrons like Pozzo and Massimi, with libraries like the Barberini, and advisers like Holstenius, Poussin was in a good position to get any information that he needed about questions of theology, philosophy, liturgy, or archaeology; and, from what we know of his intellectual inclinations, he was the kind of man to take advantage of his opportunities. Bellori was speaking from firsthand evidence when he said that Poussin was well read not only in the subject with which he was directly concerned but also "in the liberal arts and philosophy." 81 79. In the Vatican Library. I am very grateful to Mrs. Henri Frankfort for calling my attention to this inventory. 80. Cf. Holstenius, Index Bibliothecae Barberinae, Rome, 1681. 81. P. 436. An interesting parallel and contrast to Poussin's interest in early Christian archaeology is provided by Algardi's relief of Pope Liberius in the Cortile di San

207

Damaso in the Vatican, published by R. Wittkower ("Algardi's Relief of Pope Liberius Baptizing Neophytes," The Minneapolis Institute of Arts Bulletin, 1960, pp. 29ff). Algardi has represented with great accuracy a story from the time of Pope Liberius (352-366), but it has no liturgical or theological implication, and the artist has presented the scene in a Baroque manner, with no attempt to give it an early Christian or classical flavor.

VI Poussin's Friends and Patrons in Paris

P

OUSSIN'S MODE OF THOUGHT

and manner of painting were formed in Rome, but from the time

of the visit to Paris onward his contacts with France grew steadily stronger, and many of his

most important works were executed for French patrons. Some of the Frenchmen whom he had known in Rome returned to Paris, and Poussin appears to have remained in contact with them. It will, therefore, be necessary to give some account of the people whom he knew and for whom he worked in Paris, though in some cases the information available is scanty. The artist's letters supply us with the names of many of his Paris patrons, but as far as his personal friends are concerned, there is one document of even greater value, the letter written by the Abbe Bourdelot from Paris in May 1642 to Cassia no dal Pozzo in Rome, giving him an account of a dinner which some of his friends had recently held in Paris and at which his health had been drunk. It is perhaps worth quoting at length: "I went to see M. Poussin to give him the tokens of your affection for him. I did not find him at home, but I shall do so soon. He is a man who adores you and lives for Italy, but most of all for you, his great patron. Six days before my departure we held a feast in your honor of which I wrote to you. There were present MM. Naude, Patin, and Richer, doctors and men of great learning, the good M. Gassendi, MM. Poussin, Lemaire, and Remy, celebrated painters, who all have the highest respect for you. Your health was drunk with acclamation, as was that of Signor Carlo Antonio [Cassiano's brother]. If we had had your portrait, we should have crowned it with flowers and paid it all the honors decreed for heroes in ancient times." 1 This letter introduces us to at least one group of Poussin's friends in Paris during and after his visit. Little need be said about the painters. Jean Lemaire was a close personal friend from Roman days, who was one of Poussin's principal assistants in the painting of the Long Gallery and formed part of what Poussin in a letter calls ffla brigade." Remy is Remy Vuibert, another member of the brigade, whom Poussin had also known in Rome.2 The presence of four doctors of medicine — the fourth being the writer of the letter, Bourdelot — is of some interest as showing the kind of company that Poussin kept in Paris and the close connections which existed at that date between the arts and the sciences. Of Richer nothing particular 1. Correspondance, p. 132 note 2.

2. Cf. Thuillier, "Pour un peintre oublie," and Voss.

208

POUSSIN'S FRIENDS AND PATRONS IN PARIS 3

is known, but the others were all people of distinction who played a great part in the intellectual life of Paris in the middle of the seventeenth century. Naude and Bourdelot had both spent much time in Rome, where Poussin must certainly have known them; Gassendi and Patin had never left France, but they would have been familiar to Poussin by hearsay, partly through the first two, who were close friends of theirs, and partly through Cassiano dal Pozzo, with whom both were in constant touch by letter. Gabriel Naude was by profession a doctor but by predilection a philosopher and a historian.4 In 1631 he became librarian to Cardinal Guidi da Bagno, papal nuncio in Paris, and went with him to Rome, paying a visit to Peiresc in Aix-en-Provence on the way. He must soon have gained the favor of Francesco Barberini, for in 1635 the cardinal offered him a chair at the Sapienza. He refused this, but on the death of his patron in 1641, he was made secretary to Cardinal Antonio Barberini. The next year, however, he was summoned to Paris to become librarian to Richelieu, and arrived two months before the dinner of which Bourdelot writes. He later became librarian to Mazarin and then to Queen Christina of Sweden, and died while returning from Stockholm in 1653. Naude was a man of wide knowledge. He wrote erudite treatises on ancient strategy and the eruption of Vesuvius, and published an edition of Sallustius' De diis et mundo; and his interests extended to medieval Arab authors like Alhazen, whose work on geometry Poussin also used. His favorite authors included Plutarch, Seneca, Cicero, Marcus Aurelius, and Juvenal among the ancients, and Montaigne, Pierre Charron, Justus Lipsius, and Cardanus among the moderns, from which it will be seen that he had strong leanings toward Stoicism; but he was not an adherent of any one sect and evolved his own doctrine. It was an essential part of his creed that no philosopher had attained the whole truth, and he vigorously attacked the principle of authority which still weighed heavily on thought in the France of his time. In politics he was a supporter of Mazarin, whose library he tried to save at the time of the Fronde, and in this way he would have been on the opposite side to Poussin and indeed to the other members of the dinner party, all of whom were to be keen Froudeurs; but he shared with the painter a dislike and suspicion of the nobility, and he supported the cause of the bourgeoisie from which came Poussin's best French patrons. His first master in Paris had been a noted skeptic, Claude Belurger, and all his life Naude was true to his teaching, taking nothing on trust but testing everything by the standard of reason. In matters of religion he accepted the basic doctrines of Christianity, but was prepared to admit that churches other than that of Rome could be right in certain matters of doctrine. The great battle of his life was against superstition, and one of his most important and bold works was entitled Apologie pour tons les grands personnages qui out etc faussement soupQonnes de magic, an attack 3. Jouanny (Corres[)orulance, pp. 132f note 2) read the name as Ruher, but Pintard ("Rencontres avec Poussin," p. 37) established his true identity.

4. For a full account of Naude, see Rice, and Pintard, Le Libertinage erudil, Paris, 1943, pp. 246fF.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN on the Rosicriicians, on those responsible for the persecution of the nuns of Loudun, and on all those who refused to judge questions of this kind on the true evidence and by the light of reason. Poussin would have sympathized with his dictum: "La loi de la nature est la vraie regie de Phonnete homme." Pierre Bourdelot was a very different character.'5 His interests lay in the field of science and medicine, in which he was a keen supporter of Galileo and other advanced thinkers, and he founded an academy which was the equivalent in the scientific field to Valentin Conrart's literary academy, which later became the Academie Frangaise. He was not, apparently, interested in literature or archaeology, but he met the other members of the group over questions of philosophy and theology, in which he was probably the most open skeptic of them all. He came to know Pozzo, and presumably Poussin, when he was in Rome in the years 163438 as doctor to the French ambassador, the comte de Noailles. Soon after his arrival, he and Naude arranged for the escape of the Dominican Tommaso Campanella, who was probably a personal friend of Poussin, and whose philosophy appears to have had a profound effect on him in his last years.6 Bourdelot was a somewhat wild character, and it was due to his behavior in Stockholm that the whole French group, which included Trichet du Fresne, the publisher of Leonardo, as well as Naude, were dismissed by Queen Christina. At the time of the dinner he was doctor to the prince de Condc, father of the Great Conde. He seems to have lacked the seriousness that marks the other members of this group, and it is hard to believe that Poussin would have found much pleasure in the company of a man whom Patin called ffun charlatan canonise par la fortune." Nevertheless, he was evidently a close friend of Pozzo and an important figure in the circle of Poussin's friends in Paris. Guy Patin is a more familiar figure through his letters, which give a vivid picture of life in Paris during the minority of Louis XIV. He was a violent opponent of Mazarin, but, like Naude, suspected the Frondenr princes and was, above all, anxious for peace.? Intellectually he was a curious mixture, for in medicine, which was his profession, he was obstinately conservative and rejected some of the most important discoveries of his time, but in philosophy he was a staunch supporter of rationalism against the dead scholasticism of many of his contemporaries. Like Naude, he waged a battle against superstition in the name of reason, and his criticism of the Roman Church included disapproval of the monastic orders and a veritable hatred of the Jesuits.8 His skepticism was, however, limited to certain practices of the Church and not to its central dogmas, and his position is clearly stated in one of his letters: "I believe everything in the New Testament as an article of faith, but I should not allow the same authority to all the monkish legends."9 5. For Bourdelot, sec R. Denichou, Un Medecin du grand siecle: UAhbe Bourdelot, Paris, 1928. 6. Cf. below, ch. XI. 7. Cf. Lettres de Guy Patin, ed. J. H. Reveille, Paris, 1846, I, p. 146.

8. Ibid., I, pp. 6, 33f, 54, 197, etc. In one phrase he combines his hatred of monks with his love of peace: "Je voudrais que tous les soldats fussent en Italie ou en Kspagne avec tous les moines" (ibid., I, p. 53). 9. Ibid., I, p. 90.

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POUSSIN'S FRIENDS AND PATRONS IN PARIS Pierre Gassendi is the one professional philosopher of the group. In philosophy he was a violent opponent of Descartes, but his quarrels with him concern purely metaphysical matters. In many respects he was in close sympathy with the rest of the party at the dinner. He was a passionate rationalist, a keen supporter of the Copernican system, and a great admirer of Galileo. He was also a humanist widely read in the classics, sympathizing with the Stoics on matters of ethics, but an Epicurean in questions of physics. Like all the rest of the group, with the possible exception of Bourdelot, his attitude toward religion was respectful, but the impulse for his life and thought came from a secular philosophy drawn from the study of the ancients. These four — Naude, Bourdelot, Patin, and Gassendi — were not only friends, but members of a definable group called the libertins, whose importance in the intellectual life of Paris has been demonstrated by the researches of Rene Pintard. 10 The name libertins applied to this group is liable to be misleading, for though certain of the early libertins, such as Theophile de Viau, caused public scandal by the looseness of their morals and the violence of their irreligion, most of them were of serious ideals and virtuous life. The bond that united the serious libertins, who have been described by Pintard as the libertins erndits, was not an Epicurean mode of life but a libertinage in the field of ideas. They were rationalists who rejected the principle of authority, and they were humanists who saw in the teachings of ancient philosophy a moral code on which to base their lives. The reason that they could be called liber tins was that the doctrines which they evolved on the basis of their rationalism tended on occasions to be in conflict with the orthodox teaching of the Roman Catholic Church. It is important to emphasize, however, that they were not for the most part what we should call free thinkers. They accepted the basic doctrines of Christianity, but, like the humanists of the previous century, claimed the right to judge them in the light of their own reason. In practice this meant that the libertins, like the Stoics, were animated by a hatred of superstition and mocked the credulity with which the ignorant accepted stories of miracles, sorcery, witchcraft, and so on. They attacked and satirized the corruption of the Church, particularly as they saw it in the court of Rome, and to some extent in the higher clergy in France. They remained within the Church of Rome, but they regarded with kindliness many of the criticisms directed against it by the various Reformed Churches; and they also saw much that was good in religions other than the Christian. They opposed in the name of reason the out-of-date scholasticism which, in spite of several centuries of criticism, was still the basis of the official theology of the Church. The fundamental fact about their beliefs was, however, that their inspiration was the philosophy of the ancients. They conformed to the practices of the Church of Rome — with varying degrees of enthusiasm or cynicism — but it was from Plutarch, Cicero, or Seneca that they learned the principles which governed their lives. The depth of their conviction and the seriousness of their belief in their philosophy are re10. Le Libertinage erudit, passim.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN vealed in several stories, particularly about their manner of facing death. Etienne Pasquier, for instance, on his deathbed made his friends read to him some of Seneca's essays and the Phacdo;^1 and a young Iibertin, by name of Liotterais, who committed suicide, was also found to have been reading Seneca before killing himself.*2 This must have reminded his friends of the death of the younger Cato, and it is a further indication of the sympathy between Poussin and the Iibertin group that he should have illustrated the suicide of this hero. 13 All the learned libertins mentioned above acknowledged their debt to the group of Neo-Stoic thinkers of the preceding generation: Montaigne, Justus Lipsius, Pierre Charron, and Guillaume du Vair, with whom, as we have seen, Poussin had also much in common; but the relationship needs to be denned rather carefully. In a series of studies on this movement and its relation to Catholicism, Pere Julien Eymard d'Angers has pointed out that the generation of Charron and du Vair apparently saw no conflict between their Stoicism and Christianity, and that this was also true of certain official Christian apologists, such as Jean Pierre Camus, bishop of Belley, at any rate in the early parts of his DivcrsitesM Gradually, however, it became evident that the conflict existed. Certain of the libertins accepted the fact that the rationalism which went with the Neo-Stoic movement inevitably led to criticism, first of the forms and then of the dogmas of the Church and followed a line of increasing skepticism. Others, like Naude and Patin, accepted the duality of reason and faith, and continued their belief in Stoicism with one part of their mind and of Catholicism with the other; but those admirers of Stoicism whose first loyalty was to Christianity moved in another direction and gradually eliminated from their doctrine the elements of Stoicism which they saw to be incompatible with their faith. This, as Pere Eymard d'Angers points out, led to the change from Christian Stoicism to Humanist Christianity, the movement which received its chief impulse from the reformers of the early seventeenth century, led by St. Frangois de Sales. Although Poussin belonged to the period when the conflict between Stoicism and Catholicism had come into the open, he does not himself appear to have been aware of it — perhaps because he was not a professional philosopher or theologian — and he seems all his life to have combined the two faiths without difficulty. His thought is, therefore, closer to that of du Vair than to that of his own contemporaries, and he probably found the speculations of his friends somewhat daring. There is no question that he was out of sympathy with the extreme libertins, of whom, incidentally, there were plenty in Rome, but at the same time he never followed the Catholics who rejected the

11. Ibid., p. 55. 12. Loc. cit. 13. Pere J. Eymard d'Angers ("Le Stoicisme en France dans la premiere moitie du XVIIe siecle," Etudes Franciscaines, I-IV, 1951-52) has shown that the question of suicide is a test case in the dispute between Catholicism and Stoicism, since the former condemns it and the latter approves it, and it is not without importance that Poussin

should have made a drawing of the death of Cato (fig. 145), which by implication, puts him on the side of the Stoics on this question. 14. Cf. particularly ibid., I, pp. 287-89; II, 389-410: III, pp. 5-19; IV, 133-57, and idem, Du stoicisme chretien a Vhumanisme chretien. Les "Diversiles" de J. P. Camus, Meaux, 1952, pp. 9ff.

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POUSSIN'S FRIENDS AND PATRONS IN PARIS principles of Stoicism. In fact, he stands out as a pure example of the Christian Stoic to the end of his life. We do not know how far Poussin was familiar with other members of libcrtin society in Paris, but he certainly knew the poet Scarron, though he disliked his Virgilc travcsti, a parody of Vergil in modern dress, and only painted for him reluctantly and under pressure from his compatriot Chantelou, both being from the Maine. He must also have met the brothers Dupuy, whose cenacle was the meeting place of all who showed independence of thought in Paris at the time. They were friends of Cassiano dal Pozzo, and the ccnacle met in the house of the President de Thou, whose nephew, Jacques, then an abbe but later president aux enquctcs, was a friend and patron of Poussin and commissioned from him the painting of the Crucifixion (pi. 168) , 15 The brothers welcomed all comers from Rome and had extended hospitality to Campanella during the five years that he spent in Paris while Naude was undertaking the publication of his theological and philosophical works. So far we have only considered Poussin's personal friends in Paris, and they were not the same as his patrons, for the simple reason that they were not wealthy enough to afford his paintings. But there is enough information about those who commissioned his works to indicate what sort of people they were, even though in many cases we have no personal details about them. The link between the artist and potential patrons in Paris seems to have been established through Richelieu, almost certainly under an impulse from Cardinal Francesco Barberini. This contact led to the call back to Paris to work for the king, but after the failure of that mission it took a new form. From the time of Poussin's return to Rome in 1642, he received no further orders from the Crown, and even the question of the Long Gallery was gradually allowed to drop. This is not surprising, given the situation in Paris. The king was a minor; the regent was not interested in the arts; the country was going through a long period of crisis; finally, Poussin had not shown himself the kind of artist who was suited to the execution of royal commands. It is more surprising that he should have been totally neglected by the French nobility, though it could be said in partial explanation that they, too, were occupied with matters more urgent, though not more useful, than the ordering of paintings. The Frenchmen on whom Poussin depended after 1642 were of an entirely different type. They were all bourgeois, and they belonged to a definable section of the bourgeoisie. They were not the rich parvenus who made their money by farming the taxes; they were people of less prominence and greater integrity. Some of them were steady and devoted admirers of Poussin and acquired considerable collections of his works. The most important of them, Paul Freart de Chantelou, commissioned the second series of Sacraments, the Ecstasy of St. Paul (pi. 145), the finer of the two self-portraits (pi. 15. Poussin wrote of him in 1644: ffMr. de Tou quil y a fort longtemps que je cognois famillerement" (Correspondonce, p. 268).

213

173. Poussin. Camillas and the Schoolmaster of Falerii. The British Museum, London

197), the Israelites Gathering the Manna (pi. 128), a Holy Family (pi. 219), probably a Conversion of St. Paul, now lost, and owned the wax Ariadne (fig. 27). In addition, his wife ordered the Holy Family in Egypt (pi. 231) and Christ and the Woman of Samaria (pi. 239), and his brother Jean, the small panel of the Baptism (pi. 171). Pointel, a banker originally from Lyons but settled in Paris, owned an almost equally impressive collection: the other self-portrait (pi. 196), the later Louvre Finding of Moses (pi. 169), the Bedford version of Moses trampling on Pharaoh's crown (pi. 165), the Judgment of Solomon (pi. 199), the Holy Family with Ten Figures (pi. 208), and Christ Appearing to the Magdalen;^ four landscapes: Polyphemus (pi. 190), the Man Killed by a Snake (pi. 182), and a pair representing calm (pi. 193) and a storm, known from an engraving (pi. 263). Passart, maitre dcs comptcs, commissioned the Eudamidas (pi. 224), the earliest version of the Schoolmaster of Falcrii, now only known from a finished drawing (fig. 173), 16a and two landscapes, one the Orion (pi. 237) and the other the Woman Washing Her Feet (pi. 195). 17 Cerisier, a Lyons silk merchant, ordered the two Phocion landscapes (pis. 176, 177), the Esther 16. See Catalogue, entry R 41. 16a. See Catalogue, entry No. 142. 17. Passart also owned several paintings by Claude (Liber

214

Veritatis 79 and 89), who dedicated to him an etching,

the Dance of the Four Seasons (1662).

POUSSIN'S FRIENDS AND PATRONS IN PARIS Before Ahasuerus (pi. 227), a Flight into Egypt (pi. 265), and a Virgin and Child (pi. 260). Another Lyons silk merchant, Reynon, was the owner of the late Finding of Moses (pi. 206) and the Christ Healing the Blind Men (pi. 200). 18 Lumague, or Lumagne, a banker of Swiss origin but living in Paris, commissioned the Diogenes (pi. 188), and Mercier, tresorier de Lyon, the St. Peter and St. John Healing the Lame Man (pi. 222). Among the pictures in Paris, de Thou's Crucifixion (pi. 168) has already been mentioned; Melchior de Gillier, conseiller du roi and the owner of a house on the He St.-Louis built by Le Vau, commissioned a Moses Striking the Rock (probably pi. 116); and the Holy Family on the Steps (pi. 172) was painted for Hennequin de Fresne, master of the royal hunt. A few of the richer financiers were interested in Poussin's work. Louis Phelypaux de La Vrilliere commissioned the big Schoolmaster of Falerii (pi. 121) to go with the series by Italian Baroque artists which he had ordered to decorate the gallery in his hotel, built by Frangois Mansart. Nicolas Fouquet acquired Chantelou's Manna and commissioned Poussin to design a series of herms for the gardens at Vaux-le-Vicomte,18a and his master, Mazarin, owned three canvases by Poussin. But these collectors were the exception, and their patronage is too isolated to affect the general fact that Poussin's best and most faithful patrons after 1642 came from the solid middle section of the bourgeoisie,19 Indeed, the only aristocratic names to be found on the list of men who actually commissioned paintings from Poussin before the very last years of his life are three ambassadors to the Holy See, who might be expected to have a special interest in their great compatriot,20 and, within five years of his death, the due de Richelieu, great-nephew of the cardinal and a distinguished figure in Paris society, who commissioned the Four Seasons (pis. 242-245); but this was a somewhat belated gesture on the part of the nobility toward the artist, whose reputation was now established throughout Europe. 21 18. Reynon's name occurs frequently in the Comptes des batiments (I, pp. 65. etc.) as supplying silk for the royal palaces. 18a. See Catalogue, entries Nos. 219-231. 19. Very little is known of any of these figures, but a few facts are noted in Blunt, "The Heroic and the Ideal Landscape," p. 160 note 4. Other collectors who owned paintings by Poussin in the seventeenth century, which they had not necessarily commissioned, belong to the same group. Many were members of the Parlement: Nicolas Pomponne de Bellievre, Achille de Harlay, and Richaumont. Others were servants attached in one way or another to the court: Dreux (conseiller du roi), Raoul de La Porte (contractor for the royal buildings), Hubert Gamarre (an officer of the royal hunt), and Seigliere de Boisfranc (master of the household to the king's brother). Martin de Charmois was secretary to the marechal de Schomberg, and La Fourcade was an alderman of Lyons. The only collector of more aristocratic origin was Lo-

menie de Brienne, but even he was by profession a civil servant. 20. Henri d'Etampes-Valenc.ay, who owned the Assumplion (pi. 204): Mauroy, who had an Adoration of the Shepherds (see Catalogue, entry No. 42), and the due de Crequi, who had the lost Women Bathing, the Holy Family with the Bath Tub (pi. 209), the Achilles Among the Daughters of Lycomedes (pi. 230), and probably the big Holy Family in Sarasota (pi. 218). Crequi was an intimate friend of Fouquet (cf. Saint-Simon, Memoires, ed. M. Cheruel and A. Regnier, IV, Paris, 1873, p. 5), and he employed Pointel to buy pictures for him in Rome in 1665 (cf. Lepinois-Montaiglon, p. 287). 21. In the last year of his life Conde seems to have expressed some interest in acquiring a painting by Poussin, but he appears to have dropped the inquiries, much to Poussin's relief (cf. Correspondance, p. 461). The due de Liancourt owned a small Bacchanal, which Evelyn saw in 1644 (II, p. 113).

215

NICOLAS POUSSIN Some of these patrons became close friends of the artist and kept up a regular correspondence with him, most of which unhappily is lost;-2 a few, particularly the merchants, had occasion to visit Rome, sometimes for long periods, and were thus able to meet the artist again. Only one of these figures, Paul Freart de Chantelou, stands out as something like a complete personality, since Poussin's letters to him have survived. He came of a not particularly distinguished family from the province of Maine, and he and his brothers made successful careers, owing to the fact that their cousin, Sublet de Noyers. was Richelieu's principal adviser on artistic matters. Freart de Chantelou lived in what appears to have been a comfortable but modest house near the Louvre and formed the most important collection of paintings by Poussin to be seen in Paris at the time. Intellectually he does not seem to have been a man of the caliber of Cassiano dal Pozzo, but it is clear from Poussin's letters that he held him in both respect and affection. Poussin writes to him on all sorts of subjects — painting, politics, business, his private affairs — and we have the impression of a solid, possibly dull, but kindly and honorable man. He occasionally became impatient with the painter, and Poussin was sometimes irritated by his failure to appreciate an artistic subtlety, but he was a completely reliable friend and someone to whom the artist could turn in trouble. In a letter written just a year before his death, when he was already ill and feeble, the artist begs Chantelou to look after his heirs, who were ignorant Norman peasants, and adds: frI know from the experience which I have of your kindness that you will do it willingly, as you have done for your poor friend Poussin over more than twenty-five years."2-3 Since, unfortunately, only the letters from Poussin to Chantelou have survived and none going in the opposite direction, they do not throw very much light on Chantelou's views, but it is reasonable to suppose that he did not disagree with Poussin's philosophy. The two men were on terms of intimate friendship over a period of more than twenty-five years and, had there been real disagreement, some echo of it would have appeared in Poussirrs letters to his friend, or in the summaries which Chantelou wrote at the head of each letter before he filed it. A little further light is thrown on Chantelou's character by the diary which he wrote of Bernini's visit to Paris in 1665, when he was given the duty of looking after the architect. It is to be noticed, for instance, that though his master, Sublet de Noyers, was a keen supporter of the Jesuits, Chantelou's own piety seems to have been less intense and, although he records the very frequent occasions on which Bernini visited one or another of the churches in Paris to pray or hear mass, 22. References in the letters show that he was in regular touch with Pointel, Passart, and Cerisier. How extensive his correspondence must have been is indicated by a phrase in a letter to Chantelou of 1645: "Jei beaucoup de lettres a escrire pour cet ordinaire e'est pourquoy je vous suplie de vous contenter de ces deux lignes pour maintenanf (Correspondance, p. 302). Unhappily, only the letters to Chantelou have survived in any quantity, though some of the correspondence with Pointel still survived in the late

eighteenth century in the possession of the Demasso family (cf. Watson, p. 17). 23. ". . . je m'assure sur 1'experiense que jei de vostre bonte que vous le feres volontiers comme vous aves fait de vostre pauvre Poussin en Tespase de vintcinq ans" (Correspondatice. p. 459f). For further details about Chantelou, see Chennevieres-Pointel, III, pp. 124fT, and Chardon.

216

174. Peter Paul Rubens. Self-Portrait. Windsor Castle Chantelou rarely seems to have accompanied him. He occasionally lets drop unfriendly remarks about the wealth of the Church 24 and the bad taste of nuns.25 From the general tone of these, one may conclude that he shared the views of the libertins on the religious Orders. Poussin's other patrons are more hazy figures, but about some of them, particularly Pointel, he speaks with real affection in his letters to Chantelou, who must also have known him well. We can in any case be certain that they belonged to that grave body of hard-working middle-class people who formed the backbone of France during the seventeenth century. They were by nature peace-loving, and they were only led into opposition to the government when they saw that its policy threatened their interests. They rightly distrusted the nobility, which, they realized, wanted to perpetuate the anarchy of the Wars of Religion. They supported Henry IV and Sully; they feared Richelieu, but realized that he was working for the good of the state, even if by unattractive means; they turned on Mazarin when they found the corruption of his regime intolerable, but allowed him back when they realized that the alternative was a government of nobles; and they were the foundation of Colbert's regime. In religion they were orthodox, but not fanatically so; they were good supporters of the Gallican privileges and opponents of the Jesuits; their views on moral problems were serious, and the revival of Stoicism in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries was a 24. Chantelou, p. 160.

217

25. Ibid., p. 175.

POUSSIN'S FRIENDS AND PATRONS IN PARIS creation of the learned members of their class. Finally, they, more than anyone else, fostered the great revival of the arts in Paris in the middle of the seventeenth century; for not only did they support Poussin, but they — or sometimes their slightly richer fellow citizens — were the sponsors of the classical movement in architecture created by Salomon de Brosse, Frangois Mansart, and Louis Le Vau. The personality of the artist in his maturity is vividly reflected in the famous self-portrait (pi. 197) which he painted, though reluctantly, for his friend Chantelou. It is not a lovable face, and that hardness which appears in Poussin's thought is to be seen in the frowning wrinkles of the brow. The mouth is set, and the eyes stare piercingly and almost threateningly at the spectator. Nor is any compromise made in the rest of the painting. The background is a pattern of rectangular canvases, and the only ornament is an allegorical group of painting and friendship just visible on the left. If we compare this self-portrait with Rubens' presentation of himself (fig. 174), the contrast is complete. In the self-portrait of the latter an equally lively intelligence shines forth, but of a less severe, more human kind. We can see at once why Rubens was at ease in the diplomatic negotiations which he carried out with such skill, and why Poussin failed as a court painter and preferred to live apart from the world of public affairs. The warmth of Rubens, both as a personality and as an artist, appeals directly, but it takes time to get on terms of intimacy with Poussin's art, and to appreciate the severe and intellectual concentration of his finest works.

218

VII Poussin's Ideas on Painting

P

OUSSIN WAS THE

MOST consistent of men, and his views on painting are of a piece with his gen-

eral philosophy. They are inspired by a passionate belief in reason as the source of all beauty, as

well as of all truth, but as in other fields so in the arts, reason for Poussin is the logos of the Stoics and not the restrictive faculty which it tended to become in the later seventeenth century. The Stoics, however, devoted little attention to aesthetics, and Poussin could not, therefore, draw on them directly for his theories about painting, as he does on other subjects,1 but it is characteristic of his approach that in his letters, though the words reason and judgment occur constantly, the word imagination is not to be found at all, for imagination was condemned by the Stoics as something liable to disturb the absolute balance of rational judgment.^ This does not mean that for either the Stoics or Poussin art is a mechanical activity; reason is itself creative and absorbs the functions usually attributed to the imagination. On the other hand, Poussin's conscious concentration on the reasonable aspects of art leads to his painting being at first sight cold and unemotional. It is only when we come to know it well that its deeply moving qualities become apparent. Poussin's rationalist approach toward painting naturally means that his art is fundamentally humanist. Painting deals first and foremost with the actions of man: "Painting is simply the imitation of human actions, which, properly speaking, are the only actions worthy of being imitated," though other things can be imitated as accessories.^ But the artist must not imitate any human action at random; he should select those which reflect the highest side of man's nature, that is to say, actions of the kind illustrated by Poussin in the paintings of his later period, which were in accordance with Stoic ideas of virtue. These are the themes he had in mind when he wrote: "But first let us consider the [subject] matter of painting; it must be noble,"4 noble being, according to Aristotle, that which pertains to virtue.^ Poussin develops the same idea in another note: "The first thing that is required, as the foundation of everything else, is that the matter and the subject should be something lofty, such as battles, heroic actions, religious themes."6 1. This is no doubt why we find so many reflections of Aristotle's thought in Poussin's remarks on the arts. 2. Cf. Marcus Aurelius, "Kill the imagination" (7. 29), and ffWipe out what springs from imagination" (9. 7). The word imagination occurs in a conversation reported

by Felibien (cf. below, p. 220), but it is not certain that he has reproduced Poussin's exact words. 3. Bellori. p. 460. 4. Correspondance, p. 463. 5. RJietoric 1366a. 6. Bellori, p. 461.

219

NICOLAS POUSSIN The fact that painting is fundamentally a rational activity means that it is controlled by the mind of the artist and appeals to the mind of the spectator. In this conception of the art of painting the eye is only a channel to the mind. The sole aim of some painters is to please the eye, but for this, only skillful imitation and brilliance of technique are required, qualities for which Poussin had the utmost contempt. Writing to justify himself to Chantelou when the latter had complained that a painting sent to Pointel had more charm than one painted for himself, Poussin says: "We must not judge by our senses alone but by reason," 7 and since elsewhere he says that the same rules apply to creating paintings as to judging them, we are justified in concluding that for him reason is the mainspring in the production of a work of art. In another letter, dating from the end of his life when his hand was getting shaky, he says: ffIf only my hand would obey me, I should be able to say with Themistocles . . . that man dies . . . when he is at the height of his powers. But I do not, for all that, lose courage, for as long as the head is well (even if the servant [i.e., the hand] is feeble) it will always compel it to execute the . . . most important parts of the art." 8 In other words, even if the manual skill of the artist is failing, he will still be able to convey those conceptions which his mind has formed and which are the essential part of painting. Since, however, to follow reason and to follow nature are for Poussin the same thing, painting as a rational activity will be an imitation of nature. This imitation of nature, however, must be taken in a generalized sense, and not to mean an imitation of everything to be seen in the outside world. As Poussin said in a conversation with Felibien: "A painter is not a great painter if he does no more than imitate what he sees, any more than a poet. Some are born with an instinct like that of animals which leads them to copy easily what they see. They only differ from the animals in that they know what they are doing and give some variety to it. But able artists must work with their minds, that is, they must think out in advance what they want to do, conceive Alexander in their imagination as a noble and courteous man, and then, by means of their colors, express his personality so that one will recognize from the features that it is Alexander and that he has the characteristics which are associated with him." 9 This was no doubt an attack on the naturalists of the day — the Caravaggisti and, above all, the Bamboccianti — whose conception of art was the exact opposite of Poussin's, and who reproduced 7. "Nos apetis n'en doivent point juger sellement mais la raison" (Correspondance, p. 372). 8. "Si la main me vouloit obeir J'aurois quelque occasion de dire ce que Temistocles dit en soupirant sur la fin de sa vie, que l'homme finit et s'en va quand il est plus capable ou quil est prest a bien faire — Je ne pers pas courage pour cela car ce pendant que la teste se portera bien (quoy que la servante soit debile) elle luy fera tousiours observer les melieures et plus exellentes parties de ce quelle fait profession" (ibid., p. 447). This idea is not new. Tertullian (De anima 40. 2, and Adversus Marcionem 1. 24) speaks of the body as the servant of the

mind in exactly the same way, and there are similar phrases in Plutarch and Seneca. Curiously enough, the sixteenth-century French engraver Jean Duvet added to the first plate of his Apocalypse an inscription which embodies the same idea: Fata premunt trepidantque tnanus, jam lumina falhint. Metis restat victrix grandeque suadet opus. 9. Delaporte, pp. 202f (also Thuillier, "Pour un 'Corpus Pussinianum,' " p. 81). This is no doubt the conversation Felibien had in mind when he wrote in the Entretiens that Poussin "despised those who are only capable of copying nature as they see it" (IV, p. 81).

220

POUSSIN'S IDEAS ON PAINTING nature uncritically. For Poussin, nature was a manifestation of the supreme reason and was therefore formed according to a certain order and harmony. It was this harmony that the artist should seek to imitate in his works. Poussin is here close to the Stoics. Marcus Aurelius, for instance, says: "Nature cannot be inferior to art, because the arts consist only in imitation of nature. If this is so, nature in its most perfect and most complete form cannot be surpassed in ingeniousness of technique." 10 This idea of the superiority of nature over art was not an invention of the Stoics but is to be found in Aristotle, from whom it spread to almost all later writers on aesthetics. The imitation of nature according to reason involves the presentation of a subject with the simplicity and the clarity which characterize the operations of nature, and many of Poussin's comments on his art center on these two themes. To attain simplicity, the artist must concentrate on the essentials of his story and not clutter up his painting with irrelevant detail, however attractive it may be in itself. The painter "must avoid excessive details with all his power, in order to preserve the dignity of his story and must not skim lightly over things great and magnificent to lose himself in vulgar and frivolous matters." 11 Poussin is no doubt here thinking of his Baroque contemporaries like Pietro da Cortona who believed in enriching a subject by the introduction of incidents and decorative details, many of which were not strictly relevant to the theme of the painting. Poussin preferred the strictest economy and in this passage he is probably taking his stand in the dispute which took place on the question in the Academy of St. Luke in the years 1634-38 between the supporters of the Baroque idea under Cortona and the classical faction under Andrea Sacchi.1^ The same idea underlies another of Poussin's notes, no doubt written with the same quarrel in mind: "How to make up for the poverty of a subject. If the painter wants to arouse admiration in people's minds but has not in hand a subject apt to produce it, he will not introduce strange and new things contrary to reason, but will force his mind to make his work marvelous by the excellence of its manner, so that people will say: fMateriam superabat opus.' " 1 3 In the same way he must resist the temptation to use a tortured and elaborate manner of composition: "The structure or composition of the parts should not be worked out with obvious effort, or labored, but natural."^ The precepts just quoted will inevitably lead to clarity as well as simplicity, but clarity has for 10. 11.10. Generally speaking, Poussin follows this view of nature, as, for instance, in one of his notes where he writes: "L'arte non e cosa diversa della natura, ne puo passare oltre i confini di essa" (Bellori, p. 460), and in the next note he quotes the story of Zeuxis and the painting of Helen to show that the artist should select and combine the best parts of nature. One note, however, entitled "Delia idea della bellezza," is more Neo-Platonic in content. It is copied from G. P. Gallucci's translation of Diirer and goes back to Giovanni Paolo Lomazzo and ultimately to Marsilio Ficino (cf. Panofsky, Idea, p. 117,

and Blunt. "Poussin's Notes," p. .347). This seems, however, to be a unique case in Poussiifs writings of a direct reflection of Neo-Platonic views, 11. Bellori, p. 461. 12. Cf. Missirini, p. 112; Posse, pp. 35ff; and Blunt, "Poussin's Notes," p. 346. 13. Bellori, p. 462. The passage is almost identical with one in Mascardi's DelVarte historica, Rome, 1636, p. 158. The quotation is Ovid Metamorphoses 2. 5. Felibien refers to these ideas in much the same spirit as Poussin (cf. IV, pp. 89, 115). 14. Bellori, p. 461.

221

NICOLAS POUSSIN Poussin a particular connotation. A painting must not only present its theme in an intelligible manner, it must also be explicit and immediately recognizable. His art is one of complete statement, not of suggestion. This is not to say that it is lacking in subtlety. On the contrary, Poussin was a close student of human actions and a skillful observer of gesture; but in a work of art, both action and gesture had to conform to certain rules. In this matter he followed the principles of rhetoric, which Aristotle defined as frthe art of discovering in any given case the available means of persuasion."1-1* Poussin therefore sought out the means that would best convey to the spectator the full implications of the story he was treating and so persuade him to believe in it, just as the orator persuades his audience to believe his case. The idea of using gesture and facial expression to convey a story was, of course, nothing new. In Renaissance theory it goes back as far as Alberti. who revived it through his study of ancient writers, but it was given much fuller development by Leonardo and from him passed into the general tradition of art theory. Poussin, however, differs from his predecessors of the sixteenth century in that he recast the theory on the basis of the writings of the ancient rhetoricians. In one of his notes, for instance, he quotes almost verbatim from Quintilian's Institutio oratorio, on the subject of gesture and its use as a means of creating the desired effect on an audience: ffOf action. There are two instruments which will affect the minds of your hearers, action and diction. The first is in itself so valuable and efficacious that Demosthenes gave it the first place in all rhetorical devices, and Marcus Tullius [Cicero] calls it the speech of the body. Quintilian attributes such efficacity and such power to it that he esteems conceits, proofs, and effects useless without it; and without it, lines and colors are useless."16 The painter cannot, of course, make use of the combination of words and gestures available to the orator but has to rely solely on the latter. It is for this reason that at first sight Poussiirs figures may seem artificial and exaggerated; but he would have rebutted this accusation with the answer that, if he did not exaggerate the gestures of his figures, their emotions and actions would not be clearly conveyed to the spectator. And so, in his great classical paintings of the 1640*s it is possible, as the lectures at the Academy of Painting in Paris were to show, to interpret in detail the share of each person in the action and the feelings which are induced in him. That Poussin himself intended it to be so appears from a remark made in the conversation with Felibien already referred to: f"Just as the twenty-four letters of the alphabet are used to form our words and to express our thoughts, so the forms of the human body are used to express the various passions of the soul and to make visible what is in the mind." 17 15. Rhetoric 1355b. Cf. Ettlinger. p. 194f. We know that Poussin read Quintilian, and there can be no doubt that he would also have been familiar with Aristotle's Rhetoric. 16. Bellori, p. 460. The gist of this passage is to be found in Quintilian Institutio oratorio, 11. 3. 1-6. Pascoli (II,

pp. 75f) quotes these views of the ancient orators and tells us that Annibale Carracci and Andrea Sacchi attached as much value to expressive gesture as did Poussin. 17. Delaporte, p. 202 (also Thuillier, "Pour un 'Corpus Pussinianum,' " p. 80).

222

POUSSIN'S IDEAS ON PAINTING Poussin develops the theme in greater detail in connection with the painting of the Israelites gathering the manna. When he is planning the composition he writes to Stella: "I have found a certain distribution . . . and certain natural attitudes which show the misery and hunger to which the Jewish people had been reduced, and also the joy and happiness which came over them, the astonishment which had struck them, and the respect and veneration which they feel for their lawgiver, with a mixture of women, children, and men, of different ages and temperaments — things which will, I believe, not displease those who know how to read them." 18 There are two points worth noticing in this passage. First, Poussin does not say "will not displease those who know how to look at them," but "those who know how to read them," and the same phrase occurs again in the letter he wrote to Chantelou when he actually sent him the painting: fTf you will remember the first letter 19 which I wrote you, about the movements that I proposed to give to the figures, and, if at the same time, you will look at the painting, I think you will easily recognize those who are languishing from hunger, those who are struck with amazement, those who are taking pity on their companions and performing acts of charity. . . . Read the story and the picture, so that you can judge whether everything is appropriate to the subject."20 This idea of reading the picture is fundamental in Poussin's conception of painting. A composition is to be studied figure by figure, and each one will express its role in the story exactly, as does an actor on the stage, without the use of words but with an equally effective means of expression, the alphabet of gesture. Secondly, when Poussin says that he has "found . . . certain natural attitudes," the phrase reminds us that, when he selected his poses and gestures to express the feelings of the participants in the story, he was following nature in the Stoic or Aristotelian sense of the word. He would no doubt have endorsed QuintiHan's view of the need for the orator to go beyond mere direct speech: "If it were sufficient for an orator to express his thought plainly, he would have nothing to study beyond the mere suitableness of words; but since he has to please, to move, and to rouse the minds of his audience to various states of feeling, he must have recourse for those purposes to the means that are afforded us by the same nature that supplies us with ordinary speech; just as we are led by nature to invigorate our muscles with exercise."21 To choose appropriate poses and even to embellish them is, therefore, not contrary to nature but true to her real intentions.22 18. Correspaiulance, pp. 4f. 19. This letter is unfortunately lost, but it must have contained much the same ideas as the letter to Jacques Stella. 20. "Au reste, si vous vous souviendres de la premiere lettre que je vous escris, touchans les mouvement des figures que je vous prometois di faire, et que tout ensemble vous consideries le tableau, je crois que facillement vous recognoistres quelles sont celles qui languisent, qui admire, celles qui ont pitie, qui font action de charite, de grande necessite, de desir de se repestre de cosolation, et autres, car les sept premiere figure a main gauche vous

diront tout ce qui est icy cscrit et tout le reste est de la mesme estofFe: lises Tistoire et le tableau, afin de cognoistre si chasque chose est apropriee au subiect" (ibid., p. 21). 21. Institntio orator ia 12. 10. 43—44. 22. Poussin probably also studied Quintilian\s detailed description of how the hands and even the fingers can be used expressively. For instance, the strange gesture of Joseph in the Munich Adoration of the Shepherds (pi. 226), with the index finger pointing stiffly to the ground and the other three fingers bent up, corresponds to Quintilian's description in 11. 3. 94.

223

NICOLAS POUSSIN It must be emphasized, however, that Poussin was a constant and careful student of nature in the literal sense, and that his poses and gestures, though generalized, were based on this study. To quote Felibien again: frHe was always studying, wherever he might be. When he walked in the streets he observed the actions of all those he met, and if he saw one which seemed to him of interest, he noted it in a book which he always carried with him for this purpose."23 This was the raw material which then had to be organized, made explicit, and given rational expression in the process of creating a painting. Unfortunately, none of these sketchbooks survives. It seems likely that Poussin deliberately destroyed them or caused them to be destroyed. They were for him only a means toward the creation of his paintings, and, unlike the Romantics and certain moderns, he did not believe that every stroke that came from his pen was worthy of preservation. The same is true of the drawings from the model, which we know he made first in the studio of Domenichino and later in the course of executing his paintings.24 Not one survives, and here again we can be fairly certain that Poussin did not think them worthy of preservation. In one particular respect we can define Poussinls conception of Reason more precisely. It was closely bound up with mathematics, and especially with geometry. For the seventeenth century, mathematics was the supreme achievement of human reason because of the absolute certainty of its demonstrations, and it was also a symbol of clarity and order. For the artist, therefore, mathematics presented a means of reducing the incoherence of the material world to an order consonant with reason. In fact, mathematics fulfilled for painting the function performed for poetry by the rules of versification. According to classical doctrine, ffThe rules of poetry are only made to reduce nature to a method. . . . It is by such rules that everything becomes exact, proportionate, and natural." 25 The idea of connecting painting and mathematics was not, of course, new — it had been one of the foundations of Renaissance aesthetics — but Poussin believed in it with such fervor that it produced new and astonishing results in the paintings of the 1640's, of which the most striking example is the Holy Family on the Steps (pi. 172). Given this geometrical approach to the problems of painting, we need not be surprised to find that Poussin was a keen student of works on mathematics and optics. He had copies made of the works on perspective by Padre Matteo Zaccolini, who had been the teacher of Domenichino in this field, and also of the thirteenth-century Polish mathematician Erasmus Vitellio, whose writings were still an object of sufficient interest in the seventeenth century to deserve a new edition with a commentary by Kepler.26 He must also have known the works of the Arab Alhazen — in whom, incidentally, Naude was interested27 _ for the first part of his famous letter to Freart de Chambray. 23. 24. 25. 26".

IV. p. 14. Cf. Bellori. p. 412. Cf. EttlinKcr, p. 194. Corrcs/wndance, p. 484. Kepler's edition appeared in

Frankfurt in 1604. On Vitellio, see C. Baeumker. Whelo (Beitrage zur Geschichte der Philosophic des Mittelalters). Munster, 1908. 27. Cf. Rice, p. 82.

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POUSSIN'S IDEAS ON PAINTING giving his definition of the art of painting, is simply a statement of the conditions of sight as laid down by Alhazen.28 When he is justifying to Sublet de Noyers his criticism of what had been done by others in the decoration of the Long Gallery, Poussin distinguishes between a right and wrong way of looking at such matters. The wrong way he calls aspect, which consists of the simple process of receiving the rays of light in the eye. The right way, which he calls prospect, is, he says, a function of reason, but, when he comes to define it, the difference is no more than that prospect takes into account the measurements of distance and angle of vision which affect the view of a spectator. This is, however, a mathematical process, and so raises prospect above aspect to the plane of reason.29 Poussin's rationalism permeates the whole of his theory of the arts, and one of its most original manifestations is in the well-known theory of the Modes. This theory is set forth in the letter written to Chantelou in November 1647, part of which has already been quoted.30 Chantelou had made it plain in an earlier letter to the artist that he had been disappointed with the last painting he had received, the Ordination from the series of Sacramcnts (pi. 158), and that he preferred the Finding of Moses sent to Pointel (pi. 169). Further, he had evidently implied that Poussin was taking more trouble for Pointel than for himself. The artist defends himself and explains that the difference between the two paintings springs from the difference in subject: "If you find the painting of the finding of Moses which belongs to M. Pointel so attractive, is this a reason for thinking that I did it with greater love than I put into your paintings? Cannot you see that it is the nature of the subject which has produced this result and your state of mind, and that the subjects that I am depicting for you require a different treatment? The whole art of painting lies in this. Forgive my liberty if I say that you have shown yourself precipitate in your judgment of my works. To judge well is very difficult unless one has great knowledge of both the theory and the practice of this art. We must not judge by our senses alone but by reason. "This is why I want to tell you something of great importance which will make you see what has to be observed in representing the subjects of paintings. "Those fine old Greeks, who invented everything that is beautiful, found several Modes by means of which they produced marvelous effects. "This word Mode means, properly, the ratio or the measure and the form that we employ to do anything, which compels us not to go beyond it, making us work in all things with a certain middle course 31 or moderation. And so this mediocrity or moderation is simply a certain manner or determined and fixed order in the process by which a thing preserves its being."32 28. Alfassa, p. 129. 29. Correspondence, p. 143. Poussin is almost certainly here paraphrasing a writer on optics. 30. Correspondence, pp. 372ff; the text is given in the Appendix, pp. 369f.

31. Poussin uses the word mediocritc which had not in the seventeenth century the pejorative sense that it now lias, 32. This is an echo of a Stoic doctrine. The order or harmony in nature, by means of which animate or inanimate things preserve their being, is a manifestation of the supreme reason.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN Poussin then proceeds to define the different Modes which the Greeks used in their music. The Modes are, in general terms, the ancestors of the modern keys in music, but they had for the Greeks certain precise connotations. Each one of them — Dorian, Lydian, Phrygian, and so on — produced a particular mood and was connected with a particular kind of theme. The Dorian was grave and severe; it was suited to themes of virtue and wisdom, and was appropriate to the lyre. The Phrygian was joyful and "furious"; the Lydian was suited to melancholy songs; and so on. Finally Poussin records the opinion of Plato and Aristotle, that only the Dorian and the Phrygian Modes should be allowed, as leading to useful emotions, the former to virtue and the latter to courage. "Good poets," he goes on, "have used great diligence and marvelous artifice in adapting their choice of words to their verse and disposing the feet according to the propriety of speech, as Vergil has observed throughout his work, because to all three manners of speech he accommodates the actual sound of the verse with such skill that he seems to set before our eyes with the sound of the words the things he is describing. So, when he is speaking of love, he has cleverly chosen certain words that are sweet, pleasing, and very grateful to the ear. Where he sings of a feat of arms or describes a naval battle or accident at sea, he has chosen words that are hard, sharp, and unpleasing, so that on hearing them or pronouncing them they arouse fear. If, therefore, I had painted you a picture in which this manner was followed, you would imagine that I did not love you." It is true that Poussin copied the greater part of this passage from Gioseffe Zarlino's Istituzioni harnumichc, first published in 1553 and often reprinted, but there can be no doubt that it expressed his own thoughts,33 and that he followed it in his practice. The idea of applying the principles of the Modes to painting is highly original, because, according to the earlier writers on the arts, the means of conveying a mood or an emotion had been by gesture, whereas Poussin maintains that it can be done by the actual style of the painting, that is, by almost abstract means. Delacroix was to put forward much the same idea in the nineteenth century, and since that time it has become a commonplace; but in the mid-seventeenth century it was a rarity, though it had once been hinted at just before the end of the sixteenth century in a lecture given by Giovanni Balducci and printed in Romano Alberti's Originc e progresso delVAccadcmia del discgnoM Balducci says, "Just as the musician seeks a harmony which is grave, or gay, or melancholy, to suit the words, so the painter follows the story that he has to represent." Interest in music was not uncommon among the artists in the early seventeenth century, particularly in the circle in which Poussin moved. Domenichino, for instance, made a special study of it 3 5 and was a friend of Giovanni Battista Doni, who also knew Pozzo and Bellori and was one of the leading writers on musical theory of his day.^6 But no artist before Poussin seems to have applied the idea of the Modes to painting with the same remarkable results. 33. Cf. Alfassa, based on the present writer's thesis. For the ideas leading to the theory of the Modes, see Bialostocki, ffDas Modusproblem." 34. Rome, 1599, p. 63. 35. Bellori, p. 350.

36. Doni refers to Domenichino's interest in music in his Compendio del trattato de' generi e de' modi della musica (Rome, 1635, p. 20), and his Della musica scenica (Opera, II, Florence, 1763, p. 43).

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POUSSIN'S IDEAS ON PAINTING In examining the paintings of the later period, we see how carefully Poussin adapts to his theme not only the gestures and poses of the people taking part, but also the general disposition of the scene. The jagged movements of the figures in the two versions of Moses Trampling on Pharaoh's Crown (pis. 165, 166) convey the right sense of alarm, while motionless calm and emphatic horizontals and verticals give grandeur to the Holy Family on the Steps. Color also plays an important part, and the Dublin Lamentation (pi. 232) owes much of its drama to its almost strident harmonies, whereas the tones of the Louvre Rebecca (pi. 170) are all sweetness. Poussin does not actually mention color in connection with the theory of Modes, but in one of the notes recorded by Bellori he writes of it: "Colors in painting are a snare to persuade the eyes, like the charm of the verse in poetry."37 That is to say, color has to play its part in conveying the meaning of the painter, though, since it can only convey it to the eye, its share is not comparable to that of drawing, which appeals to the mind. Poussin, therefore, takes the side of disegno in the old controversy which had raged since the middle of the sixteenth century between drawing and color, and this is no doubt what Felibien meant when he wrote that Poussin and Raphael "devoted themselves more to form than to color, and preferred what affects and satisfies the mind and the reason to what only appeals to the sight." 38 But no one who has seen Poussin's later paintings could believe that he entirely condemned color; he gave it its proper function, according to his theory, that of expressing the character of the subject in a manner which appeals to the eye, just as drawing, composition, and expression do so by means which appeal to the mind. In seeking to follow nature in the true sense and to arrive at the ideal, the artist must primarily follow his own reason; but there is one guide which can help him in this difficult process: the art of the ancients.39 The ancients are proposed by Poussin as models not from any blind belief in their infallibility, but simply because he considers that they, more than any other artists, followed the true laws of art — that is, the laws of reason — and produced the most nearly perfect embodiments of ideal nature. His admiration for them is unbounded, but it stops short of worship; and he never abdicates his position as a reasonable man so far as to say that they must always be followed in all things. In the famous letter on the Modes he speaks of them with an endearing mixture of admiration and affection: "Nos braves anciens grecs, inventeurs de toutes les belles choses." These are not the words of an abject imitator; they are those of a man who feels that, at however great a distance, he belongs to the same family as those ancients whom he admires. They make one feel that Poussin would have accepted without conceit, but also without false modesty, Reynolds' description of him as "a mind naturalized in antiquity." His attitude toward the ancients is made clearer by the copies which he made after Roman sculpture. Generally speaking, these take the form of drawings, but a copy in wax survives. This 37. P. 462. Poussin is copying here a passage from Tasso about the charm which verse has for the ear (see Appendix, p. 366). 38. IV, p. 153.

39. His note ffDell' essempio de' buoni maestri" (Bellori, p. 460) shows how he regarded the study of the best masters, principally the ancients, as a valid short cut to the attainment of good style.

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j

175, 176. Poussin. Drawings after Trajan's Column. Musee Conde, Chantilly

177, 178. Poussin. Drawings after the Antique. Musee Bonnat, Bayonne

179. Poussin. Drawing After the Arch of Titus. Nationalmuseum, Stockholm is the copy of the Vatican Ariadne which belonged to Chantelou and is now in the Louvre (fig. 27). We have no other sculpture from Poussin's own hand with which to compare this and so check the traditional attribution, but the style of the wax conforms so closely to that of Poussin's figure paintings of the 1640's that there is every reason to accept it and to date it in that period. In certain respects it is a very exact copy, and yet, by slightly altering the pose and elongating the proportions, Poussin has firmly stamped it as his own. The drawings after the Antique vary in character. Some, including those which have already been mentioned in connection with the Bacchanals, are simply factual notes (figs. 132, 133, ITSITS) but others, of a quite different type, were clearly made as records of sculptures which the painter admired as works of art (cf. fig. 179). They have one somewhat unexpected feature in common: they are none of them measured or even detailed drawings, but, on the contrary, quickly drawn sketches, recording the general character of the statues in question.40 It may seem singular that an artist who was so deeply devoted to the art of the ancients should not have made fuller records of the objects of his admiration; but the fact that he only made such rough drawings is not only evident from the surviving examples but is confirmed by the early biographers. This method forms a striking contrast to the practice of Rubens, who spent much time in Rome making highly finished drawings after the great statues in Roman collections. One reason for this difference is that Rubens was to take his drawings back to Flanders as records of what 40. In his youth he measured the Vatican Antinoils (fig. 183) and his measurements are recorded in Bellori (pp. 4561F), but the drawings have not survived. Some notes

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on a sheet of paper on which the drawing of the Victory of Joshua over the Amorites has been mounted seem to be measurements of this kind. These will be published by Dr. G. KaufTmann.

180. Roman Sarcophagus. Sarcophagus of the Muses (detail) Capitoline Museums, Rome

he had seen in Italy, whereas Poussin, if he wanted to refresh his memory, had only to go to the Palazzo Giustiniani or the Vigna Ludovisi to see the originals. But the slightness of Poussin's drawings has a deeper significance. He was an admirer but not a slave of ancient art, and he may well have felt that a general note of a statue left him greater freedom in using it for his own paintings. It is a fact that, though all Poussin's figures in the works of the later period have the character of ancient sculpture, one can never pin down one of them as being an actual copy of an ancient model. Generally speaking, indeed, the borrowings tend to be more direct in the earlier period than in the later. The Muse in the Louvre Inspiration of the Epic Poet (pi. 42) is very close to those commonly found on Roman sarcophagi (cf. fig. 180), and the Bacchus in the Stockholm Bacchus-Apollo is from a familiar Hellenistic type also imitated by Michelangelo in his early Bacchus (fig. 181). In the paintings of the 1640's almost all the figures have the character of ancient statues, but direct copies are relatively rare. One figure of a woman standing and leaning with her elbow on a support, who appears in the Aldobrandini Wedding (fig. 112) and on many ancient sarcophagi, is to be seen in the Louvre Rebecca (pi. 170) and in the Louvre version of Moses Trampling on Pharaoh9s Crown (pi. 166), but each time altered and given a new character. Often the borrowing is of a different kind and consists in following the proportions, not the poses, of ancient statues. Lebrun, for instance, in his celebrated lecture on the Manna, demonstrates in detail how Poussin has used the proportions of the Lao coon for the old man standing on the left, the Niobe for the woman giving her breast, the Seneca for the old man behind them, and so on. But in none of these cases do the figures show any similarity in attitude to the statues in question. They were chosen because they represented the ideal type of old age in the two men, and of maturity in the woman. The idea of propriety is, therefore, an important factor in Poussin's choice of models in this case. 230

181. Michelangelo. Bacchus. Museo Nazionale, Florence As we have seen, Poussin learned much about composition from ancient works of art, particularly from bas-reliefs, and many of his paintings, from the early battle scenes to the most classical works of the 1640's, are based on the principles learned in this way. Occasionally he borrows a whole motive, like the hero crowned by Victory in the Continence of Scipio (pi. 153), which occurs in bas-reliefs and in an ancient painting published by Bellori (fig. 182), but usually his borrowings are of a much more general character. He was the most profound student of ancient art among seventeenth-century artists, but he absorbed what he learned so fully that it comes out transformed. In fact, he was so deeply soaked in ancient art that he could produce original images in the character of Roman statues, just as an accomplished humanist could produce Vergilian hexameters or Ciceronian prose. With Rubens it was the exact opposite case: his drawings after the Antique were exact, but when he used them as a basis for figures in his paintings, they became completely transformed into creatures of flesh and blood and of Baroque movement. One further point must be made about the comparison of drawings after the Antique by Poussin and Rubens. Rubens generally turns to what can be called the baroque works in late Greek and Roman sculpture, such as the Belvedere Torso or the Barberini Faun. Poussin instinctively turns 231

182. Pietro Santi Bartoli. Triumph, illustration in G. P. Bellori's Frogmenta vestigii veteris Romae to models of a more classical type, which harmonized with his ideas of art just as the Torso did with those of Rubens. 41 It is possible, however, to define Poussin's attitude toward the Antique rather more precisely. The distinction between Greek and Roman art was hardly noticed till the time of Winckelmann, but Poussin was among the very first to realize the difference and to be a wholehearted supporter of the Greeks. In his life of Duquesnoy, Passeri writes: "He [Duquesnoy] wanted to prove himself a strict imitator of the Greek manner, which he called the real model for perfect work, because it combines grandeur, nobility, majesty, and beauty [grandczza, nobilta, macsta, e Icggiadria], all qualities that it is hard to unite in a single work; and this love was strengthened by the comments of Poussin who wanted in every way to vilify the Latin manner, for reasons which will be told in his life."42 Unfortunately Passeri does not come back to the question when writing the life of Poussin, but this passage is in itself enough to prove that he considered the distinction between Greek and Roman art a matter of fundamental importance. The few passages in the letters which refer to ancient art confirm this conclusion. Generally speaking, in his letters or reported comments it is to the Greeks rather than the Romans that he appeals as supreme authorities. In his letter to Chantelou on the Modes already referred to, they are quoted as the inventors of everything beautiful. Felibien said that he sought to "imitate in his ideas and his expressions what is written about the ancient Greek painters,"43

ancj

Freart de Chambray, who often echoes Poussin's doctrines, distinguishes sharply between the Greek and Roman orders in architecture, approving the first and condemning the second.44 Further, the works of ancient art which Poussin is known particularly to have admired form a surprisingly consistent group and can in the main be classified as Greek in one sense or another. The first statue 41. For a discussion of the relation to antiquity of Baroque and classical artists in the seventeenth century, see Blunt, "Baroque and Antiquity." 42. Passeri, p. 112.

4.3. IV, p. 20. 44. See the Preface in his Idee de la perfection de la peinlure,

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183. Roman Sculpture. Antinous Museo Pio-Clementino, The Vatican

184. Roman Sculpture. Woman Wearing a Peplos Museo Nazionale Romano, Rome

that he is known to have studied on his arrival in Rome is the Antinous (fig. 183), which is the most characteristic example of the Attic revival in sculpture under Hadrian. The Bacchanals of the 1630's are largely based on Dionysiac reliefs (cf. figs. 64, 65), most of which are Hellenistic, though in many cases Poussin would have known them through Roman copies. Felibien, moreover, tells us45 that he particularly admired the marble vase which at that time was used as the font in the cathedral of Gaeta, and which is now in the Naples museum. This vase is an exceptionally fine work of late Hellenistic art, dating from the first century B.C., and signed by the sculptor Salpion of Athens (fig. 131a, b). Poussin's classical works of the 1640's and later have a solemnity and a grandeur which are strangely akin in feeling to Greek sculpture of the fifth century B.C. and strongly suggest that he must have been familiar with it. It is generally said that no examples of sculpture of this kind were available in Rome in the seventeenth century, but this is not strictly speaking the case. Though there were few, if any, originals, there were a number of copies which no one in the seventeenth century could have distinguished from originals. The Ludovisi collection, for instance, contained the statue of a woman wearing a peplos, an exceptionally good copy of an original of about 460 B.C. 45. See above, p. 56.

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185. Roman Sculpture. Lndovisi Herm. Museo Nazionale Romano, Rome

186. Roman Sculpture. Ludovisi Herm of Hercules. Museo Nazionale Romano, Rome

(fig. 184), 46 four herms of gods and goddesses (cf. figs. 185, 186), 47 the Hermes *$ a statue of Athena,49 and a number of heads and smaller works. The Giustiniani collection included a second statue of a woman wearing a peplos,50 and yet others of the same type were to be found in the Farnese collection.51 The Villa Medici had at least one version of the Doryphoros, an Asklepios, a Polyclitan Herakles, and two late-fifth-century reliefs, one of Maenads.5^ In addition, there were celebrated copies of Greek works of more uncertain date, such as the Horse Tamers on the Quirinal and the Niobids in the Villa Medici, now in Florence. There were, therefore, enough examples in Roman collections for Poussin to have formed some idea of the style of Greek art at its greatest period, and there is good reason to think that he took advantage of the opportunity. There is a detail of costume in certain of his paintings which seems to prove that he did at any rate study one group of fifth-century statues. In the Louvre Rebecca (pi. 170) and the drawing of Moses and the daughters of Jethro (fig. 149) the women are shown 46. The head is a cast from another replica in the Lateran and disturbs the effect of the whole (cf. E. Paribeni, Museo Nazionale Romano. Sculture greche del V secolo, Rome, 1953, No. 89). 47. Ibid., Nos. 9, 34, 35, 104. 48. Ibid., No. 28.

49. Ibid., No. 112. 50. Galleria Giusliniani, Rome, 1681, I, pi. 17. 51. Now in the Naples museum. 52. Cf. G. Mansuelli, Galleria degli Uffizi. he Rome, 1958, I, Nos. 7, 10, 15, 16, and 18.

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Sadture,

187. Palladio. Temple of Bacchus

wearing what is clearly a peplos. This attempt to follow the Greek mode of dress appears to be unique in the seventeenth century and is an indication of Poussin's interest in Greek as opposed to Roman art. What is more significant is that he imitates not only the detail of the dress but emphasizes the strong vertical folds in which the peplos naturally falls, and which differs so markedly from the more flowing and more elegant lines of Roman dress.53 The almost Attic quality of these figures is an important factor in defining Poussin's classicism in the later part of his life. Other artists of his day — Andrea Sacchi and Domenichino — claimed to follow the principles of classicism, but theirs is a much softer form, drawn from Roman models or from Hellenistic, mainly Pergamene, sculpture. Poussin began with a taste for this kind of ancient art — late Roman battle sarcophagi in Paris and in the first years in Rome, and then Hellenistic and Hadrianic works (though he never seems to have admired the Pergamene school) 54 — but in the later part of his life he was unique in his attempt to recapture something of the grandeur of fifth-century Greek art. Some light is thrown on Poussin's relation to ancient art by the use he makes of architecture in his paintings of the late 1640's and later. When possible, he bases his buildings on models which he found around him in Rome. In the background of the Bedford Moses Trampling on Pharaoh's Crozvn (pi. 165), for instance, there appears the wall of a temple articulated with Ionic half-columns, which corresponds exactly with the Temple of Fortuna Virilis in Rome; but this building is rare in being almost completely preserved, and in many cases Poussin is forced to use reconstructions of ancient monuments available in earlier writers on architecture. It is some indication of his scrupulousness and of his judgment in archaeological matters that he almost invariably turns to Palladio, who, in the seventeenth century, was regarded as the most classical of architects and whose recon53. It is true that, as with the Roman toga, Poussin misunderstands the structure of the peplos. He does not realize that the part hanging down over the upper part of the body is in fact a section of the main garment, and he often paints it a different color. But here again he was suffering from the disadvantage of using models drawn

from sculpture, 54. There is one exception. In a letter to Chantelou (Correspondance, p. 278), Poussin says that he has got permission to make a cast of the Barberini Faun, which he describes as ffde la plus belle maniere." On the other hand, he is not known to have made a drawing of it.

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189. Palladio. Temple at Pola

188. Palladio. Temple at Trevi

structions of ancient buildings have stood the test of time better than those of his contemporaries. It is from him, for instance, that Poussin takes the Temple of Bacchus, later the church of Santa Costanza (fig. 187),^ which appears in the background of the Pyramus and Thisbe (pi. 187), and the temple at Trevi (fig. 188), 56 which forms the central feature of the city of Megara in the background of Lord Derby's Ashes of Phocion (pi. 177). The other Phocion landscape (pi. 176) shows in the right background Palladio's reconstruction of the temple at Pola (fig. 189),^? and on the left a building based on his versions of the two circular temples, by the Tiber and at Tivoli (figs. 190, 191), but differing from both in having an Ionic instead of a Corinthian order.58 In some cases Poussin seems to have chosen a particular ancient building to suit the theme that he is treating. For instance, the temple in the background of the Louvre Sab hies (pi. 84) is of a primitive type with heavily proportioned Tuscan columns and enormous intercolumniations,^ features which are no doubt intended to suggest that the episode took place a very few years after 55. Bk. IV, ch. 21. 56. Bk. IV, ch. 25. The side portico of the temple at Trevi also appears in the background of the Holy Family on the Steps (pi. 172). The same building reappears in paintings by Jean Lemaire (Blunt, "Jean Lemaire," p. 24.3). 57. Bk. IV, ch. 27. 58. Bk. IV, chs. 14 and 23.

59. Jane Gostello ("The Raj)c of the Sabine Women") has suggested that this temple is that of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, built on the Capitol soon after the foundation of Rome. It conforms to many types recorded by Sebastiano Serlio and Palladio, but the wide intercolumniation may have been suggested by the plate in Daniele Barbaro's edition of Vitruvius, Bk. IV, ch. 7 (Venice, 1567, p. 196).

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190. Palladio. Temple of Vesta on the Tiber

191. Palladio. Temple of Vesta at Tivoli

the foundation of Rome. The building on the right of the temple carries on both the temporal and the local allusion. The fact that it is shown partly in scaffolding indicates that the city was still building, and the form of the edifice is clearly intended to indicate the open loggia of the forum described and illustrated by Alberti (fig. 192), on whom Poussin seems here to have drawn for the first and only time. In the second version (pi. 113) Poussin has been even more explicit and has shown the Forum, where Romulus organized the games that led up to the carrying off of the Sabine women, with a basilica in the background derived from the description of Vitruvius and the engravings added to sixteenth-century editions of his Architecture. He has further depicted Romulus standing in the portico of a temple, no doubt to underline the fact that the episode took place during a religious festival, the Consuela.60 It is probably also not by chance that the background of the Vienna Capture of Jerusalem (pi. 117) is dominated by the Temple of Mars Ultor, as reconstructed by Palladio (fig. 193) ,^1 which would form an appropriate allusion to the vengeance being wreaked on the Jewish people. With architecture as with sculpture, Poussin sometimes turns to early Christian art for his model, though examples are rare. In Christ Healing the Blind Men (pi. 200), in spite of the anachronism, he introduces in the background an early basilica with a colonnaded portico and a tower. At first sight this would appear to be easily identifiable with an existing church, but this proves not to be the case, and there is some reason for thinking that Poussin in fact made his own variation on this theme, since the same church appears in a drawing at Turin with a fagade of different proportions and with the tower moved to the other side.62 60. Cf. Costello, op. cit. 61. Bk. IV, ch. 7. A similar but not identical temple ap-

pears in the drawing of the same subject, probably for the earlier version (CR, II, p. 18, No. A 37). 62. CR, IV, p. 48, No. 285.

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1 192. Alberti. Loggia of a Forum

193. Palladio. Temple of Mars Ultor

194. Scamozzi. Palazzo Fino at Bergamo (detail)

195. Palladio. Villa Garzadore

196. Palladio. Palazzo Thiene in Vicenza

When, however, it came to the problems of presenting a whole town, ancient models were lacking, and Poussin, forced to look elsewhere, turned to Palladio, in whom he evidently saw the architect most likely to produce a version in accordance with the spirit of ancient architecture. Direct imitations of Palladian buildings are to be found in the backgrounds of two of Poussin's later works, the Death of Sapphira (pi. 220) and the Healing the Blind Men. The two palaces in the foreground are clearly Palladian in character, the farther being like the Palazzo Fino at Bergamo (fig. 194), designed by Palladio's pupil Vincenzo Scamozzi, and the nearer being an almost exact copy of Palladio's own Palazzo Thiene in Vicenza (fig. 196). On the extreme left of the Blind Men is Palladio's Villa Garzadore (fig. 195) and behind it another villa, Palladian in character but not identifiable with any known building.^ 6.3. This building presents a puzzling problem. It consists of a rusticated ground floor and a first floor with an open loggia. The building is markedly Palladian in feeling but for the unusual fact that there is no pediment over the loggia and the sky line is therefore straight. This does not seem to occur in any of Palladio's designs, but it does happen, strangely enough, in one of Inigo Jones's most Palladian works in England, the Queen's House at Greenwich. Evidently Poussin could not have known the English palace, and one must look for a common source; but this is not easy to find. It is generally said that Jones

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based his design on Scamozzi's Villa Molini, and it is indeed true that, if the pediment of this building were removed, the fagade would be very similar to the Queen's House: but it is still a curious fact that the English architect and the French painter should both have made the same variation on Scamozzi's design by eliminating the pediment. One is forced to assume that there must have been a drawing by Palladio or Scamozzi of a villa without a pediment, which was known to both Jones and Poussin: but how Poussin could have known such a drawing is mysterious.

197. Copy After Poussin. An Artist's Studio. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad

198. After Baccio Bandinelli. The Studio. Engraving by Agostino Veneziano, 1531

199. After Johannes Stradanus. The Academy of Fine Arts Engraving by Cornells Cort, 1578

Generally speaking, therefore, Poussin was as scrupulous over architecture as he was over matters of ancient dress, but the evidence available to him was even more incomplete, and above all there was nothing from which he could glean even the most superficial idea of the achievements of the Greeks in this art. 64 He was forced, therefore, to fall back on Roman models and on the reconstructions of Palladio, but from these he evolved settings which for their classicism have no parallel in seventeenth-century painting.^ Poussin's double allegiance to antiquity and to geometry is strikingly illustrated in a drawing (fig. 197) 66 which shows an artist's studio — not Poussin's own studio, because he hardly ever took on pupils, but an ideal studio with the proper means of study for the young painter. This theme was common in the sixteenth century, and a comparison of Poussin's drawing with two earlier 64. of or 65.

The temples at Paestum, Agrigentum, and Segesta were course avaiiahle, hut they seem not to have been drawn studied till the eighteenth century. Poussin was interested in other branches of archae-

ology: Mariette (I, p. 92), for instance, tells us that he collected imprints of ancient gems. 66. The original is in the Uffizi, but it is extremely worn, and the details can better be distinguished in the copy in the Hermitage here reproduced.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN versions of the subject reveals the particular interests of the various artists concerned. In Baccio Bandinelli's studio (fig. 198) all the garzoni are drawing, and the objects in the foreground are all concerned with either anatomy or the study of the nude. Stradanus' composition (fig. 199) embodies a more complicated and typically Mannerist program. It includes all the arts: painting, sculpture, engraving, and architecture. The skeleton and the ccorche figure on the left stand for anatomy; the statues of Minerva, Tiber, and Romulus and Remus for antiquity. In comparison, Poussin's composition is simple and straightforward. Three students are at work, two drawing, one painting. The one on the right is copying a statuette, presumably ancient, and beside him are a ruler and set-square; the boy on the left is studying the regular solids: sphere, cylinder, and cone. Behind on the left is a structure shaped like a gallows, which may, as in Stradanus' version, be intended to hold up a figure for the demonstration of anatomical points. It is, however, the mathematical elements that dominate Poussin's composition, and it is not by chance that one student should be drawing the three solids to which Cezanne believed all nature could be reduced. Poussin's actual method of work, which was very unusual, is described by several of his biographers, most fully by Sandrart, who writes of it as follows: He was learned in discourse and always had with him a little book in which he noted everything in words or in line. When he was planning some work, he read carefully all the available texts and pondered over them. Then he made a couple of sketches of the composition on paper, and if he was painting a history, he made little wax figures in the nude in the proper attitudes, as he needed them to represent the whole story, and set them up on a smooth board, marked out in squares. Then he added to them draperies of wet paper or thin taffeta, as he wanted them to be, and equipped them with strings so that they could take their correct place in relation to the horizon. From them he painted his works with colors on canvas. In this process he also often made use of the life, and left himself the leisure to do so. For he often set to work, and then left off and went walking, but all the time thinking well and pertinently of his work. And so he regulated his life as seemed to him right and proper for his art.67 Other seventeenth-century writers add few details to Sandrart's account. Le Blond de la Tour in his Lettres . . . touchant la pcinture, published in 1669, tells us that Poussin fixed the figures onto a board by means of pegs fitted into a series of holes, and that he encased the stage formed by the board in a kind of box, open on one side and with holes in the other three sides, by means of which light could be controlled.68 Bellori states that the wax figures used for the toy theater were about half a palm, that is to say, about four and a half inches high, but that at a later stage Poussin made larger models and that it was on these that he formed the draperies. He adds that Poussin also studied the nude while actually working out the composition of a painting: the drawings made from the wax models consisted of simple lines, with the chiaroscuro added in wash, but that they showed all the force of the gestures and expressions.69 67. P. 258. 68. Le Blond de la Tour, p. 146. 242

69. Pp. 437f.

200. Reconstruction model of stage showing how Poussin set out his figures

201. Reconstruction model of stage on which Poussin set out his figures

202. Poussin. Drawing for "Baptism." Hermitage Museum, Leningrad This method of making little wax figures and setting them up on a stage is not unique, and it had in fact been used by many artists in the sixteenth century.?0 but it is in accordance with Poussin's very careful methods that he should have continued it in a period when it seems to have been generally out of favor, no doubt as being too laborious.?* Figures 200 and 201 show a reconstruction of the stage on which Poussin set out his wax figures^ and gives some idea of the way in which he used it. The figures set out on it are based on a drawing for the Baptism, a subject which was chosen because there are so many surviving drawings for this composition that they enable us to follow out the way in which Poussin developed his design better than any other example. The group on the stage is close to the Baptism of the first series of Sacraments, but it is probably Poussin's first idea for the painting in the second series. In the succeeding drawings the composition evolves on quite different lines and gradually leads up to the second painted version. The 70. E.g., Tintoretto, Barocci. and El Greco: cf. J. Schlosser, rrAus der Bildnerwerkstatt der Renaissance," Jahrbuch der Knnsthistorischen Sammlungen des allerhochsten Kaiserhanses, XXXI, 1913, pp. 11 Iff. It is also described by Vasari (Le Vite . . . , I, ed. G. Milanesi, Florence, 1878, p. 176). 71. It is significant that Giovanni Battista Armenini, who describes the method, does not recommend it on account

of its laboriousness (cf. Schlosser, op. cit., p. 112). 72. It was prepared by Lawrence Gowing, to whom I am much indebted for permission to reproduce it here. It seems to be in accordance with the accounts of Poussin's contemporaries, except for one detail. Le Blond de la Tour refers to Irons as the means of lighting in the sides of the box, and this must mean a series of little windows and not of slats as shown in the model.

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203. Poussin. Drawing jar "Baptism." Gabinetto Disegni e Stampe, Uilizi, Florence

principal changes that Poussin introduced concern the group on the extreme left and the group with the old man supported by his two sons. In the first two drawings (figs. 202, 203) the man pulling on his stocking in the lower left-hand corner is facing out of the composition, and the man with his two sons is to the left of the central group. The figure composition is identical in these two drawings, and the only difference lies in the background and in the lighting, which in figure 203 is planned to produce very strong chiaroscuro. In the third drawing (fig. 204) the old man has been moved across to the other side, and the main group there has been opened out to make room for him. This change is maintained in the last drawing (fig. 205), but here the man pulling on his stocking has been turned round, so as to face into the composition and so close it in a much more classical manner. The painting follows the last drawing almost exactly in its figure composition, but Poussin has made yet further modifications in the landscape and the architecture. The ruined tower over the figure of John serves to emphasize the importance of this figure, while that of Christ is picked out in a different way by the device of placing the dove not only exactly over his head, as the text demands, but precisely against the outline of the pointed mountain. The masses of the hills now almost echo the figure groups in the foreground, which are forced into more coherent blocks than in the preliminary drawings. But not only has Poussin clarified the grouping of his figures, he has also separated them out more clearly according to their relation to the story. There are now four groups: one in the right 245

204. Poussin. Drawing for "Baptism" Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris

205. Poussin. Drawing for "Baptism.'9 Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris

POUSSIN'S IDEAS ON PAINTING background consists of people awaiting baptism; the second in the left foreground of those who have received it. On the opposite diagonal are two groups of spectators who take no part in the action but react to it in different ways, the group of young men in the right foreground clearly acknowledging the miraculous appearance of the dove, whereas the group, apparently of Pharisees, in the left background are either unaware or skeptical of the whole affair. It is in accordance with Poussin's method that he should thus simultaneously elucidate the theme and the formal composition. Few artists can ever have set out to paint with such a load of doctrine — ethical, mathematical, and aesthetic — as Poussin, and it is proof of his artistic power that the works which he produced in this period should not have been pieces of dry pedantry. Happily he possessed the gift of transmuting his learning into an imaginative creation.

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VIII Poussin's Paintings (1643-1653)

T

HE YEARS IMMEDIATELY

after Poussin's return to Rome in December 1642 are curiously thin

in documented and datable works. The little Ecstasy of St. Paul (pi. 145), painted for Chante-

lou as a pendant to his version of Raphael's Vision of Ezehiel (fig. 206), can be dated to 1643 from the letters; the Moses Trampling on Pharaoh9s Crown, in the collection of the Duke of Bedford (pi. 165), was certainly painted between 1642 and 1647, probably about 1645. In 1644, Poussin began the second series of the Sacraments, which evidently took up most of his time, but he executed one or two other works simultaneously, notably the Crucifixion for de Thou (pi. 168), which was painted between November 1645 and June 1646. To these documented pictures certain others may be added on stylistic grounds with a fair

degree of confidence. The pair painted for Cardinal Camillo Massimi, now in the Louvre, Moses Trampling on Pharaoh9s Crown and Moses Changing Aaron's Rod into a Serpent (pis. 166, 167) cannot be far off the Bedford picture in date but are probably slightly later. The Holy Family in the Temple at Chant illy (pi. 144/>) probably also dates from these years, to which also belong Poussin's first pure landscapes, the three for Pozzo (pis. 146-148), and the St. Matthew and the St. John (pis. 150, 151). In many ways the paintings of the years 1643-45 continue the style of the period immediately before and during the visit to Paris. The compositions are simple and static, with the figures arranged as if in a bas-relief against a background often consisting of simple architecture parallel to the plane of the picture; the figures are small in relation to the size of the canvas, and the coloring is cool, as in the first series of the Sacraments or in the Roccatagliata Holy Family (pi. 144fl). These features are to be found in the St. Paul and in the Holy Family in the Temple, and the three paintings of Moses only differ in having a stronger and hotter color scheme. It was only in the second series of the Sacraments that a radical change began to appear. 248

206. Raphael. Vision of Ezekiel. Palazzo Pitti, Florence

207. Domenichino. The Ecstasy of St. Paul. Louvre, Paris

The Ecstasy of St. Paul was presumably chosen by Chantelou to do honor to his patron saint, just as later he was to commission from Poussin a Conversion of St. Paul, now lost; * but he may also have been influenced by the fact that the theme had been painted by Domenichino in a small picture which belonged to the Jesuits in the Rue St.-Antoine and is now in the Louvre (fig. 207). Presumably Poussin had seen it there on his visit to Paris,2 for his version of the subject is much closer in feeling to Domenichino than to the composition by Raphael which it was intended to balance. But Poussin is more strictly classical than either of his predecessors in his treatment of the group. The subject is simpler than Raphael's, which involves representing the four beasts, but even compared with Domenichino's version of the St. Paul, which is so similar to Poussin's in its sentiment, the Frenchman's proves that he has eliminated all the Baroque elements and has turned the design so that not only is the whole group seen frontally, but, with the exception of one putto, each individual figure is seen either full face or in profile. The same frontal presentation appears in the Holy Fam1. See Carres [wndance, pp. 409, 443, etc. 2. He may also have known it earlier in Rome, when it

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belonged to Monsignor Giovanni Battista Agucchi, a friend of Domenichino and uncle of Bellori.

NICOLAS POUSSIN ily in the Temple, though here the actual handling is harder, and the draperies are beginning to take on the marble quality which they have in the Sacraments. The three paintings of Moses show a further link with the paintings of before 1640 in that Poussin makes use of squared marble floors to establish foreground space, a device he had employed in the Rape of the Sabines (pi. 84) and in the first set of Sacraments (pis. 130-133, 135). The main interest of this group, however, is that they are among the most elaborate examples of Poussin's method of displaying emotions by means of gesture. In Moses Changing Aaron's Rod the gestures are relatively simple, the two prophets pointing to heaven as to the source of the miracle, and three of the Egyptian priests showing their astonishment at what is taking place. But in the two paintings of Moses trampling on Pharaoh's crown the method is more fully developed, and every degree of surprise, outraged dignity, and, in the child's mother, terror, are told by gesture. The two versions are similar in the general disposition of the figure groups, but they differ in feeling. The Bedford picture is more elegant in its forms, more decorative in its setting and smoother in its handling; the Louvre painting is more gaunt and makes fewer concessions to the spectator, and the figures — particularly the woman on the extreme right with her legs crossed — are closer to the grand classical characters who people the stage in Poussin's paintings of the 1650's. The Crucifixion is composed on much the same principles, though the subject involves more figures, and the result is a more complicated design. In this picture Poussin uses, perhaps for the first time, the system of tensions created by gazes or gestures right across the composition which he was to employ so effectively in later works, such as the Apollo and Daphne (pi. 251). The Virgin and John look at Christ from the right; Longinus gazes in astonishment from the left, and a soldier reflects his surprise, like the woman in the Landscape with a Man Killed by a Snake (pi. 182). The tension is repeated in the foreground by a soldier on the left who points out to his companions the figure arising from the grave, while another clasps his dagger as if about to attack the resurrected man. In the drawings Poussin planned a view of the walls of Jerusalem in the background, but in the painting he left the view out, perhaps with the aim of simplifying the presentation of the scene. From 1644 till the beginning of 1648 Poussin's principal concern was with the execution of the second series of Sacraments (pis. 154-160). The history of their gestation is a long one. While the artist was in Paris Chantelou must have expressed a desire to have copies of the series that Poussin had painted for Cassiano dal Pozzo, but, as appears from a letter of March 1642, Pozzo would not agree to their being made. Chantelou, however, persisted, and eighteen months later, in August 1643, Poussin writes that he is searching for a copyist. In the following January, despairing of finding anyone capable of doing the job adequately, Poussin decided to do it himself or to make a completely new series. In March he received Chantelou's reply choosing the alternative of a new series and leaving the manner of their treatment entirely to the artist. Poussin was evidently delighted, and in April he wrote that he had already started on Extreme Unction, which he finished in October. The remaining pictures followed at rather irregular intervals: Confirmation between April 250

POUSSIN'S PAINTINGS (1643-1653) and December 1645; Baptism between February and November 1646; Penance is spoken of in a letter of May 1644, but even the drawing was still not made in February 1646, and the painting was only started a year later and finished in June 1647. Then the tempo accelerated, and the last three were finished in less than a year: Ordination between June and August 1647, Eucharist between September and November of the same year, and the last, Marriage, between November 1647 and March 1648. From the letters referring to the Sacraments we learn a good deal about Poussin's severe and scrupulous attitude in matters concerning his art. His distaste for copies of any kind appears at once, and soon he is lamenting the difficulty of finding anyone in Rome capable of making even reasonably good ones.3 Later, his relief when Chantelou chooses the alternative of a new set rather than a series of copies is proof of how much he disliked the idea of copying his own works. This is, incidentally, important evidence to be remembered when the question arises whether two identical versions of a composition can both be by Poussin. No instance of such exact repetition is in my opinion known, even though some of the early copies, perhaps made under Poussin's own direction, are of extremely high quality and might, without the existence of a finer version, pass as originals. The letters written during the actual execution of the paintings, with their constant apologies for delays and complaints of overwork, prove how busy Poussin was in these years and how much he was pressed by collectors anxious to have a painting from his hand. They also illustrate the slowness of his method of work. "I think I have done well if I paint a single head in a day." 4 In spite of the difficulties under which they were executed, however, the second set of Sacraments remains among the most impressive of his works and shows a remarkable advance stylistically on the first series — an advance of which Pozzo seems to have been aware, as there are several references in the letters which reflect a certain jealousy on his part in regard to the Chantelou series.15 The Chantelou Sacraments differ from the early series in their atmosphere and formal construction. Though the first set is more serious in tone than Poussin's paintings of the preceding years, they seem almost lighthearted in comparison with the Chantelou versions, which have a gravity quite new in Poussin's work. This comes from the elimination of those picturesque details which enliven the earlier set but sometimes give them almost the character of domestic scenes. In the first Penance (pi. 132), for instance, the movement of the servants, as well as the open architectural background with its double row of columns opening on a landscape, reminds one that Poussin had learned much from the Venetians, particularly from Veronese, whose big feast scenes this composition recalls. In the second version (pi. 157) all these elements are eliminated. The scene is closed by simple classical architecture, and the servants stand or kneel almost without moving. Even the solemn theme of Extreme Unction had not prevented Poussin from introducing a little by-play in the earlier version (pi. 133). On the right is a table, covered with a cloth which is just slipping off it; beside it stands a boy who turns with a quick movement to hand a flagon to an elderly man, who in 3. Correspondcmce, pp. 244L

4. Ibid., p. 317.

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5. Ibid., pp. 268, 440.

NICOLAS POUSSIN his turn leans forward over the bed but stretches one hand backward to take the flagon; on the extreme right a maid flutters out of a door. In the second version (pi. 154) this group is entirely changed. The boy still hands the flagon, but stands motionless in profile view as he does so; the man who receives it faces him, so that he no longer makes the double movement apparent in the first version; and the maid has been replaced by a mourning figure who sits beside the door. The solemnity given by this increasing concentration on essentials and the avoidance of any distracting detail is greatly heightened by the gravity of the figures themselves. Wrapped in the long toga or the pallium, they have the weight of marble statues and the dignity of ancient heroes. Their statuesque quality adds to the feeling of silence and immobility that pervades all the compositions of the second series. Formally, the innovations are also fundamental. The canvases are slightly longer in shape than in the first set, and the figures are greater in height, with the result that, whereas in the first series the figures seem often almost to float in a large though carefully defined space, in the second series they dominate the composition, and in many cases the space of the picture is defined by them as much as by the lines of the architecture. Two of the paintings — Confirmation (pi. 155) and Marriage (pi. 160) — are composed of figures standing free in the closed space of a room, like the corresponding members of the first series (pis. 130, 135), but in the later paintings both the grouping of the figures and the planning of the space have been greatly enriched. In the Marriage Poussin pushes the columns on either side of the foreground a little into the picture, so that the space continues around them, and figures appear behind them; and he opens up the background, not as freely as in the first Penance, but with three exquisite views of a town, each strictly confined within the frame of a rectangular window.6 In Marriage the interest is focused on the central group, though Poussin has replaced the triangle of the first version — typical of the late 1630's — by a more complex group composed of the seated priest and the kneeling bride and bridegroom, who almost form a rectangle and are enclosed in a more freely formed group of onlookers. The movement given to the first painting by the central triangle supported by the figures on either side has given place to a strong emphasis on verticals, which is carried on even in the background by the lines of the windows and the architecture visible through them. In both versions of Confirmation the main actions take place at the side, while the center is occupied by a secondary incident behind the principal group, but in the later version the groups are bound together with an almost Raphaelesque skill, combining symmetry with unity. The groups which occupy the two halves of the foreground are nearly symmetrical in their general arrangement and are based on the same formal themes — a movement toward the center of the composition and at the same time into depth; but the ways in which these ends are achieved are different in the two cases. On the left, the movement across and into the picture is started by the kneeling server, 6. These windows almost look like doors, but the one in the left-hand wall, behind the column, is the same sort of opening and is evidently a window.

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POUSSIN'S PAINTINGS (1643-1653) carried on in the plane of the picture by the arm of the seated priest, and stabilized by the two standing servers behind the group. On the right, the movement across the picture is made by the kneeling woman pointing out the scene to her child, whereas the lead into depth is made by the boy kneeling next to them. These movements are held by the strong vertical of the woman in a palla, and the eye is led back toward the main action by the gesture of the mother who leans forward to encourage her daughter who awaits confirmation. The two pairs of catachumens before the priest balance each other, but with great variety in age, type, and sex. The background in the second version is much more monumental than in the first, and its structure of massive columns and sarcophagi, leading to the inner chamber visible through the door, creates a far more varied series of spaces. In both Marriage and Confirmation Poussin uses squared marble floors as a means of defining the chessboard on which his pieces are set up, but in the other three interior scenes this element no longer plays an important part, though it is used for the foreground of Penance. The main space of this composition is established by the triclinium and the figures which lie round it. Once again Poussin places his two points of interest at the sides; indeed, he makes the composition even more centrifugal than in Confirmation by placing Christ so that he turns outward to give his blessing to the Magdalen, while the center of the composition is filled by the ravishing still life of the feast, confined between the strong orthogonal lines of the table which lead straight into the picture, like the road in the Dulwich Landscape zvith a Roman Road (pi. 184). The figures of Christ and the Pharisee are given even greater importance by their statuesque poses and their complete stillness, which contrast them with the movements and gestures of the minor figures. Once again the background is built up of severe classical architecture constructed in a series of planes all parallel to that of the picture. If Penance is composed centrifugally and in depth, Extreme Unction (pi. 154) is centralized and planned like a high relief. The space is organized into a series of layers. The narrow band of foreground is defined by the step which runs right across the picture, and in the background is a space enclosed by the curtain and the back wall. Between these two lies the zone with the group of figures around the dying man. In planning this part, Poussin has taken pains to make it spatially as compact as possible. The front part of it is defined by the return of the step which leads into the picture on the right, the stool on which the priest rests one foot, and the kneeling figure on the left; but Poussin has eliminated all lines which might lead with too great violence into space and so disturb the relief effect that he sought. The step is covered after a few feet by the drapery of the mourning figure at the foot of the bed; the stool is placed diagonally and is more than half covered, and the top of the bed is entirely hidden by the dead man and those around him. Poussin follows the same method in Eucharist. In the first version (pi. 131) the orthogonals of the table are left clearly visible, but in the second (pi. 159) Poussin uses a different arrangement and places the Apostles on all four sides of the table, so that those in front are seen in sharp foreshort253

208. Poussin. Drawing for "Eucharist." Cabinet des Dessins, Louvre, Paris

ening and themselves establish the space beyond the foreground, which, as in Extreme Unction, is defined by a step beside which are the bowls and jugs used in the washing of feet. Poussin chooses a low viewpoint, so that the table itself almost disappears and the Apostles in the foreground almost form a single group with those on the other side of the table. In this way he obtains a group as compact as that in Extreme Unction, though more varied. A drawing for Eucharist in the Louvre (fig. 208) with the figures in the nude and evidently made from wax figures set out on the stage shows the care with which Poussin worked out this composition. It also illustrates his determination to eliminate anything that might seem like Baroque overemphasis or rhetoric. In the drawing Christ is depicted with a radiance round his head, and the lamp above the table casts a dramatic light over the whole scene. In the painting Poussin left out the radiance — perhaps as not being in accordance with early Christian models — and reduced the lamp to three points of light, which in fact form the apex of the triangle on which the figure composition is based. This is a method used by the artist in others of the Sacraments. The minute flames of the two candles held by attendants in Extreme Unction draw one's attention to the dying man, and in Confirmation the three pin points of light from the oil lamps in the background not only add an extraordinary mystery to the scene but have the effect of focusing three essential features in the formal design: the two side lamps exactly define the central axis of the mausoleum behind the main figure group, and the middle one is the point toward which the movements of the two foreground groups 254

209. Perugino. Christ Giving the Keys to St. Peter. Sistine Chapel, The Vatican converge. Was Poussin perhaps giving a sort of anti-Caravaggesque demonstration, by showing the way in which he felt that candlelight should be used?? The last two scenes chosen to represent the Sacraments take place in the open air. The evolution of the figure composition of the Baptism has already been discussed.8 As regards the setting, after trying various forms of architecture on the hill in the background, Poussin chooses the simplest of all, with one tower which comes exactly over the head of John, while the dove, pinned against the silhouette of the hill itself, hovers over Christ and has something of the same focusing effect as the points of light in the three compositions just discussed. The Ordination (pi. 158), however, is one of the most remarkable paintings of the series, and extends the compositional methods of the interior scenes to the freer setting of the town and landscape. If in the first version (pi. 134) Poussin had transposed Raphael's cartoon of Feed My Sheep (fig. 160), here he seems rather to have looked at Perugino's Giving the Keys (fig. 209) in the Sistine Chapel. But, although he has followed Perugino in placing Christ at the center and in a frontal view, he has gone far beyond him in the grouping of the figures. Whereas in Perugino's fresco and in Poussin's first version they were strung out in a single line along the foreground of the composition, they are now formed into two solid groups, each more or less triangular in ground plan, and so arranged as to lead the eye directly to the central group. As in Eucharist, the space is defined by the figure groups themselves, but the method is continued still further and is paralleled 7. This use of clots of light is adumbrated in the Vatican Victory of Gideon over the Midianites (pi. 6). 8. See above, pp. 244ff.

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210. After Raphael. The Massacre of the Innocents. Engraving by Marcantonio Raimondi

in the background. For beyond the bridge we can glimpse two lines of buildings which lead on into the distance, forming orthogonal planes that almost carry on those of the groups in the foreground.9 Here Poussin has combined a centralized design with the use of orthogonals in a manner which is not to be found in other paintings in the series of Sacraments. As is to be expected, the change in theme, in feeling, and in space composition was accompanied by a change in technique and color. The paintings are still executed on the same principles as in the earlier period, that is to say, by working on a dark brown or reddish ground from dark to light, but the way in which the technique is applied is quite new. In the paintings of the earlier thirties Poussin used abrupt transitions from very thinly scumbled shadows to lights dashed in with thick, free touches of liquid paint, producing effects of marked contrasts. Then, at the end of the thirties, the pigment becomes thinner and is laid on with small touches, without flourish and with more even distribution of lights and shades, and so of pigment. In the 1640's the paint becomes yet thinner, the touch even more regular, and the distribution of light more steady. At the same time the palette becomes more economical: earth greens, ultramarine, vermilion, lakes, yellow ocher, and occasionally Naples yellow, all used almost pure, without the broken effects of the earlier painting. And so, as Poussin's style becomes more subject to rational control, his technique grows more delib9. The placing of the hridge with the vista of buildings over it was prohahly suggested by Marcantonio's engraving of the Massacre of the Innocents after Raphael (fig. 210).

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POUSSIN'S PAINTINGS (1643-1653) erate and his use of light more sober. If his model for color in the thirties had been the Bacchanals of Titian, in the forties it became the oil paintings of Raphael in his Roman period, whose use of strong almost unbroken local color dominates Poussin's work in this period. It is no wonder that Poussin's contemporaries should have regarded the second series of Sacraments as the purest expression of his conception of painting. To mid-twentieth-century eyes the strange poetical art of his last years may seem more moving, but the Sacraments certainly embody the artist's rationalist art as do no other paintings. Their graveness is in conformity with the dignity of ancient Rome, which the seventeenth-century lion nete homme admired and to some extent felt that he could emulate; their treatment of the passions is in accordance with what contemporary critics considered a fundamental aim in all the arts; and their clarity suited a society whose taste had been profoundly influenced by the methods of Descartes. T H E YEARS

1647-51 are closely packed with datable works and must have been among the most

productive in Poussin's whole career. In 1647 he painted the Finding of Moses for Pointel, now in the Louvre (pi. 169). To 1648 can be assigned on good evidence the Louvre Rebecca (pi. 170), the Holy Family on the Steps (pi. 172), the Baptism for Jean Freart de Chantelou (pi. 171), and no less than six landscapes: the Phocion pair (pis. 176, 177), the Diogenes (pi. 188), the Landscape witli a Man Killed by a Snake (pi. 182), the Landscape with a Roman Road and its pair (pis. 184, 185). In 1649 the production continued at a great speed: the Berlin Self-Portrait (pi. 196), the Hermitage Moses Striking the Rock (pi. 198), the Judgment of Solomon (pi. 199), the Holy Family with Ten Figures (pi. 208), and the Landscape with Polyphemus (pi. 190). In the same year the Europa was planned and probably begun (pi. 194). For 1650 there are the Louvre Self-Portrait (pi. 197), the Christ Healing the Blind Men (pi. 200), the Assumption (pi. 204), the second Ecstasy of St. Paul (pi. 202), and the Landscape with a Woman Washing Her Feet (pi. 195). To 1651 can certainly be assigned the Schreiber Finding of Moses (pi. 206), the Holy Family with the Bath Tub (pi. 209), the Storm (pi. 263), and probably the Pyramus and Thisbe (pi. 187). Two other landscapes can be added to this group on stylistic grounds, but they will be discussed in the next chapter. At least two Holy Families (pis. 210, 211) belong to the same phase; and finally these years must include three scenes from classical history: the Coriolanus (pi. 174), the Continence of Scipio (pi. 153), and the Boston Achilles Arnong the Daughters of Lycomedes (pi. 175). One Bacchic composition which was probably painted at this time will be discussed below. In the larger many-figured religious compositions — that is, all except the Holy Families, the Assumption, the Ecstasy of St. Paul, and the Baptis?n — Poussin follows very much the same methods that he had evolved for the Sacraments, though with certain variations. Only one, the Judgment of Solomon, is an indoor scene, and in this Poussin has carried still further the methods of simple presentation visible in certain of the Sacraments paintings. The movement, though violent, is confined to the central part of the design and is very highly stylized. The two mothers are emphatic in their 257

211. Poussin. Drawing for "Judgment of Solomon" Ecole des Beaux-Arts, Paris gesticulation, but their gestures are broad and kept parallel with the plane of the picture. Poussin's intention is made more apparent by a comparison with the drawing (fig. 211). In this, the movements are freer; the baby is held by two soldiers, both of whom by their poses lead sharply into depth, and the figures on the right point violently toward the center of the composition. In the final version, the baby is held by one soldier only, seen in a strictly classical attitude; the left-hand mother is moved round, so that there is no lead into depth, and the right-hand group of onlookers is reduced to a series of verticals, although the emotions of horror are still clearly indicated by gestures. The picturesque background of the drawing, with a sort of apsed gallery filled with soldiers,10 has been abandoned in favor of a simple wall with two doors. Solomon, seated between two columns, is now raised to a higher point in the composition, and the gesture which he makes with his two outstretched hands, a symbol of the balance of Justice, becomes the central theme of the whole composition. With the exception of the Moses Striking the Rock, which is still very mouventente, the general tendency in this group of paintings is toward greater calm and concentration. In the Louvre Finding of Moses, the Rebecca, and the Healing the Blind Men in particular, the emotions are expressed through much more restrained gestures than in the paintings of the early 1640's. Admittedly, the themes allowed and even encouraged such restraint, and the artist's first aim in the Rebecca was to distinguish the fine shades of feeling in the different reactions shown by Rebecca's compan10. Perhaps taken from Callot's engraving Pilate Washing His Hands from the Grande Passion (fig. 212).

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Caht frc.

212. Jacques Callot. Pilate Washing His Hands. Engraving ions to the good fortune which has come to her. In the later Finding of Moses, though the gestures are relatively subdued, the effect of excitement is produced by the fluttering draperies of the girls on the left who hurry forward to look at the child. In Christ and the Woman Taken in Adultery, painted in 1653 (pi. 216), the movement is once again strong. In this painting Poussin has used a method of composition which is in a sense a combination of the centralized and the centrifugal methods to be seen in the Sacraments. The principal group occupies the middle of the composition, but the actual axis of the design is filled by a motionless figure of a woman carrying a baby in the middle distance. On each side of Christ and the woman are two groups of onlookers who converge toward the center, but at either end is a figure rushing out of the picture. The whole builds up one of the most complex patterns of cross movements to be found in any painting by Poussin. In many of these compositions the figure group is set against a background from which it appears to be almost completely separated, as in the paintings of the 1630's, but the relation is actually closer than in the earlier works. The focal point of interest in the Blind Men, for instance, is emphasized by the campanile beside the church just above the main group, which in its turn is carried on by the tower of the castle on the hill, while a subordinate point of interest, the second blind man, is under the small tower over the Palladian villa in the middle distance. In the Schreiber Finding of Moses the gap between the rocks on the right and the town on the left leads the eye straight down to the corresponding gap in the figure group, in which is the infant Moses, held up to Pharaoh's daughter, who points to him with an emphatic gesture. In the Rebecca the two principal figures are framed in by the pier over the fountain on the right and the massive building in the middle distance on the left, against which is to be seen the woman carrying a waterpot on her head. 259

NICOLAS POUSSIN In one case, the Woman Taken in Adultery, the whole space is constructed as if on a stage, with a series of buildings receding at the sides, and leading the eye toward a central point in the middle distance. Here a line of steps leading up to a palace echoes the diagonal movement of the arms of Christ and one of the disciples kneeling in the foreground and is almost continued in that of the Pharisee standing to the left of the woman. But all these movements are held in check by the figure of the woman with her child in the center of the composition. The buildings in the background of the Blind Men have already been discussed, but the architecture in the two versions of the Finding of Moses shows the beginning of a new interest, which was to be further developed in Poussin's last years. The city to be seen in each case is essentially still composed of classical buildings, to which a few obelisks and pyramids — taken from the pyramid of Cestius — have been added to give a slightly Egyptian flavor, but it also contains a quite unclassical palace, covered by two pent roofs sloping down toward the middle and containing between the two slopes an enormous pot for catching rain water. This is a feature which Poussin took from the Palestrina mosaic showing life on the Nile (fig. 250c), which he studied carefully and of which he made extensive use in the Holy Family in Egypt painted for Mme de Montmort in the middle of the 1650's (pi. 231). The three remaining religious paintings stand slightly apart from those just considered. The Baptism is unique in Poussin's later work by its size, and this has affected the artist's handling which is more minute and smoother than in other paintings of the period. In its cool coloring, however, it looks forward to the paintings of the last years. The little Assumption and the larger Ecstasy of St. Paul, painted in the same year, show that Poussin was capable of producing simultaneously a Baroque and a classical variation on the same theme. The St. Paul is richer in figures and freer in movement than the version painted for Chantelou seven years earlier (pi. 145), whereas the Assumption is more severe, more restrained, and more strictly frontal. Curiously enough, there are no figure pieces with classical themes documented to this phase, but the three already mentioned can be assigned to it with some certainty on stylistic grounds. The importance of their subjects has already been analyzed,11 and in their presentation they conform to the methods used in the religious paintings. The Achilles is one of Poussin's most conscious attempts to define an emotion — that of surprise mixed with fear — and it once again illustrates his use of figures gazing at each other across the foreground — here Ulysses and the disguised Achilles — as a means of unifying the whole. The Scipio and the Coriolanus might almost have been painted as a pair. Their compositions are based on precisely similar patterns but in reverse: the principal figure at one side, the suppliants in the middle, and the other side closed by a group of standing warriors carrying spears. Both are essentially conceived as bas-reliefs; both display Poussin's methods of rhetoric, though the Scipio is much more restrained than the Coriolanus; both show a rendering of ancient Roman armor based on careful archaeological study. 11. See above, pp. 160fF.

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213. Ponssin. Drawing for a Bacchanal. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle It will be necessary to consider in some detail here one composition, the dating of which presents difficulties. This is the Bacchanal in Front of a Temple, of which the original is lost but which is known from an engraving and from various copies. The subject at once suggests that it is a work of the 1630's, and this view is strengthened by the preparatory drawings at Windsor and Chantilly (figs. 213, 214), of which the former certainly dates from that period. In the surviving versions of the painting (cf. pi. 205), on the other hand, the forms of the figures, the cold coloring, the smooth handling, the sharply outlined eyes, and the way in which the eyes of the dancing nymph are cast up, are all features not found in the Bacchanals of the thirties but paralleled in the classical and religious paintings of the late 1640's. Felibien gives a fairly detailed description of the painting and tells us that it was executed for "M. Dufresne" — who is probably Raphael Trichet du Fresne — but unfortunately does not give a date. He does, however, note that "it is one of the paintings in which Poussin has taken most pains, and in which he has followed the proportions of the best ancient statues and bas-reliefs," which is as much as to say that it is more classical than most of his Bacchanals, a definition which would indicate a later period than the thirties. But for the fact that Felibien's description of the painting for du Fresne fits so accurately, it would be tempting to identify the picture with one mentioned by Poussin in the correspondence. In January 1649 he writes to Chantelou that he has had a letter from Scarron reminding him of his promise to paint a picture for him, and says that he will do it, "but more because 261

214. Poussin. Drawing for a Bacchanal. Musee Conde, Chantilly of your wish than his, because there is nothing that I would not take on for the respect I owe you." 12 In the following month he writes that he has found fCla disposition d'un subiect bachique plaisant" for Scarron, and promises to paint it in the same year "if the troubles in Paris do not cause him to change his mind." 13 Nothing further is heard of the Bacchanal, and in May 1650 Poussin writes that he is working on a painting for Scarron, but this turns out to be the Ecstasy of St. PaulM It is possible, therefore, that Scarron changed his mind and that Poussin, having eventually painted the St. Paul for him instead of the Bacchanal, was left with the latter on his hands, and sold it to du Fresne. The hypothesis that he was painting it for Scarron, of whom he disapproved, under pressure from Chantelou would account for his breaking his rule and using a much earlier drawing as the basis for his composition.15 The picture itself is entirely different in character from the earlier Bacchanals. What little orgiastic quality they had has entirely vanished, and, although the boy is pouring out wine, the nymph 12. frauquel jei respondu et promis de rechef de m'efForcer de le satisfaire a vostre solicitation plus qu'a la sienne car il ni a rien en quoy je ne m'engageasse pour vostre respect" (Correspondance, p. 394). 13. Ibid., p. 397.

14. Ibid., pp. 414, 415. 15. Is this indeed what he meant when lie said in his letter to Chantelou, ffJei trouve la disposition d'un subiect bachique plaisant pour Mr. Scarron" (ibid., p. 396)?

262

POUSSIN'S PAINTINGS (1643-1653) is dancing, and the youth on the right is clashing the cymbals, the whole scene is removed to an ideal plane by the complete detachment evident on the faces of all the participants. Even the satyr is making a conventional grimace, as if he was but a symbol of the sensual elements in a Bacchic theme. In short, this picture is a philosophical abstract of the earlier Bacchanals, and this impression is intensified by the fact that Poussin has based the figures of the composition on ancient sarcophagi and vases more completely than in the compositions of the thirties.16 Later, Poussin was to use themes of this kind in a more explicitly symbolical manner, but even at this stage he has so far disembodied his figures that their revels cannot disturb the even tenor of his art. During the years 1648-51 Poussin created a completely new form of Holy Family (pis. 172, 208-211). In the Roccatagliata Holy Family of 1641-42 (pi. 144a) he had abandoned the picturesque Venetian type of the thirties and had achieved a greater simplicity, but now he enlarges his scope and in all the new series introduces in addition to the Holy Family itself St. Elizabeth with John (in one case St. Anne as well), and in two compositions, a group of attendant putti. These figures are formed into groups of a monumentality which the artist had not attained even in the Sacraments, and in their grand simplicity and stillness they foreshadow the works of the late period. In most of these compositions the figures build up toward two heads, usually those of the Virgin and Joseph, but these heads are always separated from each other by some emphatic feature: a tree trunk, a pilaster, a vase of flowers, or a distant view of hills. It is as if Poussin sought the regularity of a triangular design but avoided the monotony of it by never letting the sides reach an apex. All but one of these Holy Families show the figures set against a landscape mixed with architecture in the manner usual with Poussin in this period. In one only, the Holy Family on the Steps (pi. 172), they are in a setting of pure architecture in which Poussin's pursuit of mathematically simple forms reaches its highest expression. The figures are placed on the steps of the Temple, cut out of the space in a series of rectangular blocks, enclosed on the right with the plainest of balustrades and leading up to a series of very simple structures, all conceived in rectangular or cylindrical blocks. The figures themselves fill a triangle, of which one side is in light and one in shadow, and which culminates in the heads of Christ and the Virgin, separated by the line of a pilaster. But the spectator's attention is attracted inevitably toward the child's head, because it is exactly enclosed in a square formed by the gray wall of the Temple behind, and immediately over it is a rectangle of bright blue sky — unfortunately indistinguishable in a black-and-white reproduction from the gray of the wall — which, as it were, crowns it and singles it out instantly as the center of interest. This is one of Poussin's most compellingly beautiful paintings, one in which he has attained the aim of the classical artist that nothing could be added to it or taken away from it but for the 16. The author of an anonymous article ("Inaccessible Poussins," The Connoisseur, CXLVI, September 1960, pp. 43fT) points out that similarity between one figure and

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the piping fauns in the Capitoline Museum and the Louvre. These cannot have been Poussin's direct source, as they were not discovered till much later, but he certainly knew similar figures on reliefs.

215. Raphael. Madonna of the Fish. Prado, Madrid worse. It has a finality rare even in classical art. Historically, it is interesting from a further point of view. It is the first instance of Poussin's having turned to Raphael's Madonnas of the Roman period for inspiration. The pose of the Madonna and the child is taken fairly directly from the Madonna of the Fish (fig. 215), now in the Prado, which Poussin would probably have seen in Naples before its removal from the church of San Domenico in 1638, and this borrowing has been blended with one from another great work of the High Renaissance, Andrea del Sarto's Madonna del Sacco (fig. 150). 17 It helps to clarify Poussin's particular form of classicism at this stage of his career to find him turning not only to the great works of classical sculpture but also to two of the most characteristic masterpieces of High Renaissance art. It was in the middle of the years under consideration that Poussin executed his two selfportraits, now at Berlin and in the Louvre (pis. 196, 197). He undertook the task with the greatest reluctance and only at the request of Chantelou. The story was the same as with the copies of the Sacraments. First Poussin was to have his portrait painted by a Roman artist, but he soon found 17. See above, pp. 18111.

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216. Frangois Duquesnoy. Funerary monument to Ferdinand van der Eynden. 1630. Santa Maria dell'Anima, Rome

that there was no one who could do it according to his taste — and this gives rise to some caustic comments on the art of his contemporaries. Finally he decided that he must do it himself. Then, in the process of painting, he became dissatisfied with the first portrait he produced (the Berlin version) and started a second. Finally, both were sent off to Paris, one to Chantelou and the other to Pointel, with a letter to the former, telling him — with obvious memories of the episode of the Moses and the Ordination — that he has no cause to be jealous of Pointel, because Poussin had selected for him the one which was the better painting and the better likeness. To our eyes Poussin had little reason to be dissatisfied with the first portrait. It shows him at half-length in three-quarter view, with a black cloak wrapped around him, one hand grasping a chalk holder and the other resting on a book, on the spine of which is written De liimine el colored The oval of the head is seen against a plain rectangular slab of stone enclosed by a laurel wreath of severely classical form which makes a half oval around it. The wreath is carried by two 18. No satisfactory solution has been offered for the fact that Poussin. a firm partisan of disegno. should have chosen to inscribe on the book he is holding the battle cry of his opponents, the supporters of colore.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN putti, standing and apparently asleep. They are probably funerary genii, and the whole structure at the back is presumably the artist's own tomb or monument, his personal and classical variant of the tombs his friend Frangois Duquesnoy had produced, for instance, in the monuments to Ferdinand van der Eynden (fig. 216) and Hadrian Vryburgh in the church of Santa Maria dell'Anima some twenty years before. The second portrait is, however, even more impressive. It is planned on the same principles, but they are much more strictly applied. The head is now seen full-face and erect; the tomb and the putti have vanished and have been replaced by a rectangular pattern of canvases and frames against a door, a sort of abstract of the artist's studio. On the visible part of the left-hand canvas is seen the figure of a woman who wears a diadem with an eye in it, while her two shoulders are clasped by the hands of an invisible person. Bellori tells us that this symbolizes painting and friendship, 19 themes appropriate enough to the portrait executed for Chantelou. A further allusion is probably to be seen in the ring Poussin is wearing. This is not the ring which he had caused to be engraved with the figure of a woman holding a ship, based on Ripa's allegory for Confidentia, the word inscribed on the stone (fig. 148). In the Sclf-Portrait he is shown wearing a diamond cut into a four-sided pyramid. This has been shown to be a common Stoic symbol of constancy, and rings are known dating from the sixteenth century which combine such a stone with the clasped hands of friendship.20 This would indeed be an appropriate symbol for the relations between Chantelou and Poussin, who wrote to his patron, "I am not fickle or changing in my affection once I have given it to a person." 21 Poussin's paintings of the 1640's form one of the purest manifestations of the spirit of French classicism, and the parallels which they offer with contemporary literature have often been pointed out. The most obvious is with the tragedies of Corneille. The themes of the great plays — produced, incidentally, in exactly the same years as the paintings — are strikingly like those chosen by Poussin for his heroic compositions. The control of the passions in China recalls the Continence of Scipio; devotion to country is the main motive in Horace and in the Coriolanus; generosity again links Augustus in China to Camillus in the Schoolmaster of Falcrii. Even the political implications are sometimes the same, and the great attack on the stupidity and inconstancy of the mob in Horace might be inscribed below Poussin's landscapes illustrating the story of Phocion. But the parallel must not be pressed too far, because, although the themes are often similar, the tone is different. The heroes of Corneille appear at first sight to behave according to the dictates of reason, but closer examination shows that they carry their principles to a point at which their actions take on an almost monstrous quality, contrary to reason. It is reasonable to seek la gloire and it is reasonable to love one's country, but when patriotism becomes an uncontrollable passion, as it does 19. P. 440. 20. Kauflmann, Po?issin-Stmlien, pp. 88ff. 21. tfJe ne suis point liomme legier ni changeant cTaflec-

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tion quand je l'ei raise en un subiec" (Correspojidance, p. 372).

POUSSIN'S PAINTINGS (1643-1653) with the younger Horatius, then it goes beyond the bounds of reason. We need only recall the scene in which he murders his sister for daring to regret the death of her betrothed, whom he had killed in the fight between the Horatii and the Curiatii. The scene has always been quoted as indicating the excesses to which Corneille's method can lead; but although an extreme case, it is not unique, and it embodies something that is fundamental in the dramatist's method. In Le Cid, for instance, Chimene is also a monster, according to ordinary common sense, when she implores the king to condemn her lover to death, even though she knows he is innocent, because honor demands it; and the exultation of Polyeucte seeking martyrdom is that of the religious fanatic, not of the honnete homme.2% There is nothing similar to be found in Poussin. His heroes remain human even when they are heroic; they are never excessive, and their actions never go against common sense. Even when offered subjects of violence, as in the Toxaris, Poussin deliberately selects a reasonable rather than an extreme example of devotion to friendship. Corneille, we may feel, would have chosen one of the Scythians' stories in preference to the Greek. In their methods, however, the poet and the painter are in many ways alike. Both seek the utmost concentration at the expense of more obvious attractions. The bareness of Corneille's plots is like the visible scaffolding of Poussin's compositions. The lack of picturesque epithets in the dramatist's verse is a parallel with Poussin's rejection of rich texture and free brushwork in the actual execution of his paintings. Both writer and painter aim at a sustained tone of nobility which allows of no concessions to minor interests. Poussin will no more introduce a piece of vulgar genre painting into a classical theme than Corneille will insert a comic scene into a tragedy. The reasoned expositions of human emotions according to a set of accepted categories in the plays is in the same spirit as the expression of feelings by means of codified gestures in Poussin's paintings. In short, both artists work according to a severely limited set of conventions and obtain their effects by working out the most subtle variations within them. The result is an art which has no surprises, but which leads the spectator or the hearer by a series of visible — one could almost say predictable — steps to a conclusion which seems inevitable from the beginning. If Corneille's art is the reverse of Shakespeare's, Poussin's is the opposite of Rembrandt's. It never relies on those flashes of intuitive genius which make every line drawn by the great Dutchman seem loaded with meaning, even if the method by which the meaning is expressed seems inexplicable. Poussin, on the contrary, could, one feels, have explained in words why he used any particular device, and have justified its use with solid reasons. Rembrandt needs no such justification. It may be that Poussin's art in this phase of his career fails to attain the highest level the human mind can reach by imagination, but it produces a peculiar kind of perfection and harmony which is unlike anything else and could not have been produced by any other means. In his last years he was to break out from even these limitations and produce paintings that transcend the limits of reason and reach a new and more imaginative beauty. 22. For an analysis of Corneille's tragedies, see Octave Nadal, Le Sentiment de Vamour chez Corneille, Paris, 1948.

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IX Landscape

C

EZANNE'S STATEMENT,

that he wanted ffto do Poussin over again from nature," 1 expresses his

awareness of a fundamental feature in Poussin's landscape painting, namely his emphasis on

the order and harmony of nature, which he sought to imitate in his canvases. Cezanne, however, was

so completely dominated by the new color vision of the Impressionists that Poussin would have seemed far away from what was to him nature. He therefore failed to realize how deeply Poussin himself had studied nature, though in a manner as different as possible from that followed by the Impressionists, and he fell into a common error which regarded Poussin's landscapes as works entirely executed in the studio and evolved by a process of calculation. It is true that his finished paintings of landscapes are as rational in their presentation as his figure paintings, but, as with them, his generalizations are based on profound knowledge of nature as he saw it in the Campagna, in the Alban Hills, the Sabine Hills, and along the coast toward Naples. Poussin did not specialize in landscape painting till fairly late in his career — the first major group of such works dates from 1648 — but there is conclusive evidence to show that he was interested in landscape and was making experiments with it from a very much earlier date. He is already referred to as a painter of landscapes in a letter of 1630,2 and although neither drawings nor paintings survive to confirm this evidence, there are works which can probably be dated a few years later which show his interest in landscape fully developed. In his very first works — the Marino drawings — inanimate nature plays hardly any part at all, and a few stunted trees with tufts of foliage growing from their trunks serve as a sort of symbol to indicate that the event is taking place in the open air. It was not till the last years of the 1620's, when he was embarking on his Titianesque experiment, that landscape began to play a greater part in his compositions, and we have already had occasion to notice what brilliant use he made of the method evolved by Titian in the Este-Aldobrandini Bacchanals to give a poetical setting to his Ovidian love stories;3 but in relation to his later development it is important to notice that, beautiful 1. For a detailed discussion of the documentation for this statement, see T. RefT, "Cezanne and Poussin," JWCI, XXIII, 1960, p. 150. The author shows that the evidence that Cezanne made such a statement is not conclusive, but he leaves no doubt in the mind of the reader that he almost certainly did so.

2. Cf. Somers-Rinehart, "Cassiano dal Pozzo," p. 43: cf. also Kitson. p. 145. The earliest printed reference to his landscape paintings is probably in Abraham Bosse's Sentimetis of 1649 (cf. Thuillier, "Pour un fCorpus Pussinianum,' " p. 84). 3. See above, pp. 59, 78f.

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218. Annibale Carracci. The Madonna Frotccting the City of Bologna, Christ Church, Oxford

217. Raphael. Madonna of Foligno. Pinacoteca, The Vatican

and romantic as the settings in these paintings are, they are subordinated to the figures and formally are a mere back cloth, in which the artist makes no attempt to define a complete space or to organize in space the elements — trees, rocks, and hills — of which it is composed. By the middle of the thirties Poussin's interest in landscape becomes more marked; it begins to play a greater part in his figure compositions, and a few paintings are known in which the landscape is the principal theme and the figures are secondary. The earliest of these — probably dating from about 1630 — is a picture at Chantilly, so damaged that its authenticity has often been challenged, which represents Numa Pompilius and the nymph Egeria (pi. 71). As has already been pointed out in an earlier chapter,"* the scene is the grove of Diana near Ariccia, with the lake of Nemi and the Alban Hills in the background. It is not one of Poussin's most impressive compositions, but it is his earliest surviving attempt to build up a landscape in depth. This problem is tackled in a much bolder manner in the Virgin Protecting the City of Spolefo (pi. 95). The identification of the city as Spoleto is based on its likeness in general position and on the appearance of the castle and the domed cathedral, which correspond closely. More4. See above, p. 132.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN over, Cardinal Francesco Barberini was archbishop of Spoleto, having succeeded his uncle when the latter became pope in 1623. A further link is indicated by the fact that the cathedral is dedicated to the Assumption of the Virgin. Iconographically the painting is not without parallel, and Poussin may have had in mind Raphael's Madonna of Foligno (fig. 217), or a work by Annibale Carracci in which the Virgin is shown protecting the city of Bologna (fig. 218). But the difference between Annibale Carracci's composition and Poussin's is striking. The former reduces the city of Bologna to a bird's-eye view occupying less than a quarter of the whole canvas, whereas in Poussin's design the town of Spoleto is shown in detail and in the whole of its magnificent mountain setting, while the figure of the Virgin is relegated to the very top of the canvas. The means that Poussin here uses to construct his landscape are the stock in trade of the Mannerist landscape painters: a reponssoir of rocks and trees, a middle distance — not very clearly related to the foreground — containing the town itself, and a far distance of receding mountains. But the result, which is painted with great freedom and warmth, is a landscape in a much fuller sense than the Numa Pompilius. The La?idscape with Juno, Argus, and Io (pi. 97) is a direct development from the Numa Pompilius and must date from a few years later, about 1635. It is more symmetrical in its disposition of the trees, and the recession is more carefully worked out by means of the rocks in the foreground and by the river winding between clearly defined banks in the middle distance. One of the strangest features of the painting is the plant with enormous leaves, apparently a vine, climbing over the tree on the extreme left. The Landscape with St. Jerome (pi. 96) combines something of the new clarity visible in the Juno with the mastery of distance shown in the view of Spoleto. It also shows for the first time Poussin's interest in the actual growth of different trees. In the Numa these are completely generalized, and though in the Juno there is more variety, the structure is still arbitrary. The St. Jerome is the work of a man who loves and has carefully studied the trees that he paints and wants to give each its peculiar character. The tendency toward clarifying the structure of the background is carried still further in paintings such as the two versions of the Baptism, in the Biihrle collection and in the Louvre (pis. 103, 102), and the Ordination of the first series of Sacraments (pi. 134), the first two painted between 1635 and 1637, the last probably a little later. In the Saving of the Infant Pyrrhus of about 1637 (pi. 112) Poussin uses a new weapon by introducing architecture in his background. The town of Megara, seen across the river, is made up of a series of rectangular buildings arranged in steps up the hill, which give a firm scaffolding to the landscape and foreshadow the methods used in the paintings of the next decade. The curious pinkish glow, which has become evident since the painting was cleaned, shows that Poussin was following his source carefully and identifying the time of day as sunset in accordance with the story as told by Plutarch. The device of combining architecture and landscape is carried still further in the Finding of 270

219. Poussin. St. Mary of Egypt and St. Zosimus. The Royal Library, Windsor Castle Moses of 1638 (pi. 124), where the river landscape is closed by a bridge running parallel with the plane of the picture, its line being echoed by the boat in front of it which makes an almost equally firm horizontal. In both these compositions the figure groups are clearly separated from the landscape which acts as a background to them, but the enrichment of the spatial treatment which takes place in paintings like the Ellesmere-Sutherland Moses Striking the Rock (pi. 116), or in the drawing St. Mary of Egypt and St. Zosimus (fig. 219) of about the same date, leads up to the transformation of Poussin's compositions which takes place in the late 1630's, by means of which the figure groups expand in depth and become absorbed into the landscape instead of standing free in front of it. This has already been mentioned in connection with the Crossing of the Red Sea (pi. 78), but it reaches its most complete statement in the Israelites Gathering the Manna (pi. 128), with the result that figure group and landscape are for the first time completely fused. One curious feature in the Manna is the huge rock-arch in the left background. Such formations frequently occur in the landscapes of Claude and were probably suggested by similar arches on the northern coast of the Bay of Naples; but both artists were certainly aware of an ancient model, a fresco landscape which was in the Palazzo Barberini and enjoyed great celebrity in the seventeenth century (cf. fig. 220). In the Manna it is used to balance the dark mass of trees in the background 271

220. Watercolor drawing of a Roman fresco formerly in the Palazzo Barberini The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

on the right, but by allowing the rays of the rising sun to fall on the middle distance, it produces a peculiarly subtle light effect and at the same time underlines the fact, also indicated by the long shadows thrown by the figures in the foreground, that the scene takes place at dawn. It was apparently just after his return from Paris in 1642 that Poussin began seriously to paint compositions in which landscape forms the principal theme. The earliest surviving examples in painting seem to be three small canvases executed for Cassiano dal Pozzo (pis. 146-148), the Berlin St. Mattliczv (pi. 150), and the Chicago St. John (pi. 151). In the Pozzo set the artist has constructed the same type of spatial landscape as in the Manna or the Moses Striking the Rock, but has done so without the aid of the diminishing figure groups. Instead, the space is established by means of a winding road or river which leads from the foreground into the middle distance between a series of "wings," and the distance is formed by a valley broken by a number of low ridges, one behind the other and more or less parallel to the plane of the picture, a method hinted at in the background of the Juno. In the Pozzo paintings the recession is emphasized by trees on the "wings"; in the St. Matthew these are less prominent, but the build-up of the background is more elaborate, with higher ridges. The viewpoint is relatively high, and the effect to that extent panoramic, but in both compositions the space is closed by hills in the distance. Like the Dulwich Virgin Protecting the City of Spoleto, the St. Matthew has an identifiable site. According to a tradition recorded by various early nineteenth-century writers, Poussin had a particular love for the stretch of the Tiber just above the Milvian Bridge, beside which was to be found the Acqua Acetosa, a scene which Corot also painted and in one case called La Promenade de 272

LANDSCAPE Poussinp and this is the scene in which he has elected to show the Evangelist composing his Gospel. The site is clearly identifiable today, in spite of the encroachments of modern Rome, the spur on the left being the extreme point of the Villa Glori, now the Parco della Rimembranza. In the middle distance, on one of the ridges in the valley, appears a massive square tower surrounded by lower buildings. This is the Torre di Quinto, one of the chain of medieval towers built to guard the approaches to Rome.6 Almost nothing now survives of it, and even earlier representations of it are too vague to provide a basis for comparison with Poussin's version. In the background the artist has taken certain liberties. The view should be closed by the nearby Monte Mario, for which Poussin has substituted a view of distant hills. The muddy banks of the Tiber are, however, rendered with great fidelity. The St. John does not seem to represent any identifiable site, and Poussin presumably intended only to depict an island with Greek buildings to represent Patmos, about which he could hardly have had much information. He has taken the liberty of introducing the Torre delle Milizie and the Castel Sant'Angelo, which was evidently one of his favorite monuments, into the Greek city in the extreme distance. The St. John is probably a year or two later than the St. Mattliczv, and the spatial organization is more mature. The viewpoint is still high, but instead of having a drop from the foreground to the river, as in the St. Matthczv, the hill slopes away slowly, each stage in the fall being marked by a tree, a wall, or a projecting feature of the hill itself. In both these landscapes the use of architecture has been extended. The foreground is composed of fragments of columns and bases shown in the simplest geometrical forms, and in the St. John the method is continued into the middle distance, where behind the last clump of trees we see a temple, an obelisk, and the Greek town, all as it were welded into the landscape itself. Fine though these landscapes are, they are not altogether original, and it will be necessary to examine the tradition from which Poussin derived his initial conception of the genre. Various forms of landscape painting were current in Rome in the first half of the seventeenth century. There was a Northern almost topographical type represented by artists such as Bartholomeus Breenbergh and Cornelis van Poelenburg, who painted scenes in Rome or in the Campagna, often with Roman ruins. Secondly, there was a tradition founded by Adam Elsheimer of romantic and atmospheric landscape, of which the most eminent protagonist at this time was Poussin's friend Claude. And thirdly, there was the classical tradition of Annibale Carracci and Domenichino. In view of Poussin's general affiliations, it is not surprising to find that in his landscapes of the early 1640's he followed the last line. Domenichino's Hcradcs and Achclous, for instance (fig. 221), has many of the characteristics of the St. Matthezv and the little Pozzo compositions which we have just looked at. It has the same panoramic view combined with a closing of the space, and it reveals 5. Cf. A. Robaut, UOLuvre de Corot, Paris, 1905, Nos. 53, 76, 95.

6. G. Tomassetti, La Campagna romana, Rome, 1913, III, p. 239.

273

221. Domenichino. Hercules and Achelous. Louvre, Paris

the same desire to define the recession by a series of stages parallel with the picture plane. Even more highly organized in treatment of a closed space is Domenichino's Landscape with the Castle in the collection of Denis Mahon (fig. 222), in which the eye is checked in the middle distance by the rising hill crowned with a fortified building — a device reminiscent of Poinsin's mixture of architecture with inanimate nature employed in the Pyrrhus and the Finding of Moses. These methods used by Domenichino can be directly traced back to his master Annibale Carracci. The Flight into Egypt in the Doria Gallery. Rome (fig. 223), was evidently the direct model for the Landscape with the Castle, and the Concert in the Louvre (fig. 224) shows an even more explicit use of architecture to define the space, only the distance being here formed of nature properly speaking.7 There can be no doubt that these were Poussin's immediate models, but this type of spatially composed landscape goes back very much further. Like so many inventions connected with the paint7. It is significant that the engravings found in Poussin's studio after his death included 242 after the Carracci. These must certainly have contained many landscapes (cf. Delisle, p. 252).

274

222. Domenichino. Landscape with a Castle. Collection Denis Mahon, London

223. Annibale Carracci. The Flight into Egypt. Galleria Doria-Pamphili, Rome

224. Annibale Carracci. TJie Concert. Louvre, Paris

ing of inanimate nature its origin must be sought in Venice, ultimately in the art of Giovanni Bellini (cf. fig. 225), who may be said to be the father of the whole tradition. The difference in atmosphere between Bellini and the Roman artists of the early seventeenth century is, of course, profound, but in respect of the actual construction of the enclosed space the derivation is clear. Poussin may have seen compositions of this type by Bellini when he passed through Venice in 1624, but he does not seem to have taken up the ideas implicit in them till much later, and his immediate source was probably the engravings of Domenico Campagnola, by means of which the Bellinesque conception of landscape had been spread through the whole of Italy (fig. 226). Apart from these Venetian models, Poussin is not likely to have learned much from sixteenthcentury landscape painting. The Mannerist form of landscape, as it was evolved in Flanders and then in Italy by artists like Niccolo delPAbbate, was based on principles quite contrary to his own, and the vernacular of the little views introduced into late sixteenth-century Roman decoration by painters like Mattheus Brill would have taught him nothing. Even the revolution introduced at the turn of the century by Elsheimer does not seem to have affected him. There are, however, two landscapes produced in Rome in the middle of the sixteenth century which he probably studied: the two encaustic paintings by Polidoro da Caravaggio in San Sil\ estro 276

225. Giovanni Bellini. The Transfiguration. Galleria Nazionale, Naples

226. Domenico Campagnola. Shepherds in a Landscape. Engraving

227. Polidoro da Caravaggio. Christ Appearing to Mary Magdalen. San Silvestro al Quirinale, Rome

228. Polidoro da Caravaggio. The Mystic Marriage of St. Catherine. San Silvestro al Quirinale. Rome

229. Roman Painting. Landscape fresco from the Villa dei Quintile (Via Appia). Villa Albani, Rome al Quirinale representing the legends of St. Mary Magdalen and St. Catherine of Siena (figs. 227, 228). These are an isolated manifesto of what the Roman school of Raphael would have made of landscape if they had thought it a genre worthy of being cultivated. The compositions are of the simplest: a few clearly formed masses of rock or trees which define two or three planes in depth and are often supported in this function by the more rigid lines of the architecture blended with them. Polidoro no doubt took the idea of mixing classical buildings with his landscape in this way from the few remains of ancient Roman landscape frescoes that he could have known in the Golden House of Nero and elsewhere (cf. fig. 229), and this would in itself have recommended him to Poussin, but the younger artist must also have been struck by the grand monumentality of Polidoro's compositions, which has many affinities with his own works of the later 1640's, particularly in the treatment of the masses and the use of architecture. There is furthermore a drawing in the British Museum, attributed, apparently with good reason, to Polidoro (fig. 230), which is very close to Poussin. It represents a hermitage in mountains, a subject which Poussin was to treat in much the same spirit (pi. 186), and the actual technique, both in the line and the wash, is strikingly similar to Poussin's drawings of the 1630's and early 164CTs. Drawings of this kind by Polidoro were quite probably known in Rome in the seventeenth century. In his landscape paintings Poussin derives entirely from the Venetian-Roman tradition, but curiously enough his style of landscape drawing owes nothing either to Venetians like Campagnola or Titian, or to his immediate Roman predecessors Domenichino and Annibale Carracci, but springs from a different line. A comparison, for instance, between the View near Villcneuve-les-Avignon (fig. 231) and a typical Annibale Carracci (fig. 232) shows the difference immediately. One is 279

230. Attributed to Polidoro da Caravaggio. Landscape with Hermitage. The British Museum, London

based on a skillful but stylized convention and a calligraphic manner of drawing; the other on a real and personal observation of the actual scene. Annibale Carracci works in line and makes no attempt to show effects of light; Poussin relies on a brilliant use of bister wash with which he conveys the intense sunlight of the Roman countryside. In fact, he learned this technique from the Dutchmen who came to Rome in the early part of the seventeenth century. His paintings may have had nothing in common with theirs, but his drawings made in front of nature, with their brilliant use of wash dragged on with a dry brush, can be closely paralleled in, for instance, drawings by Breenbergh (fig. 233). Some sketches reveal an even closer and more personal observation of nature (cf. fig. 234), and owe little to any other artist. They show, even more intensely than the Landscape with St. Jerome, Poussin's extraordinary awareness of the peculiar growth of different trees and plants, and a sensitiveness to light effects which one would hardly suspect from his painted landscapes. But always, even in these direct studies, there is a sense of structure lacking in the drawings of the Dutchmen whose technique he imitated. If we compare, for instance, his drawing of the Arch of the Goldsmiths (fig. 235) with a drawing of the same subject by Poelenburg (fig. 236), the contrast is at once apparent. Poussin takes a frontal view of the arch, whereas the Dutchman sees it at an angle, as a sort of repoussoir in a picturesque group of ruins. Poussin's arch is a clearly constructed three-dimensional building, carefully built up according to the laws of perspective; Poelenburg's 280

231. Poussin. View near Villenenve-li's-Avignon. Musee Conde, Chaiitilly

232. Annibale Carracci. Landscape with Three Figures. Ashniolean Museum. Oxford

233. Bartholomeus Breeiibergh. Ripa Grande, Albertina, Vienna

234. Poussin. Five Trees. Cabinet des Dessins. Louvre. Paris

235. Poussin. The Arch of the Goldsmiths The Royal Library, Windsor Castle

236. Cornells van Poelenburg. The Arch of the Goldsmiths Albertina, Vienna

is something made of cardboard, a mere evocation of sentiment about antiquity. Even when actually drawing from the object in front of him, Poussin instinctively reduces it to the order which he requires in all his compositions. In a few cases we can connect drawings with painted landscapes by Poussin. A drawing at Holkham (fig. 237), traditionally attributed to Claude but certainly by Poussin, seems to be the basis of the distant view in one of the Pozzo landscapes (pi. 147). The artist has not, of course, used it exactly in the painting — one would not expect that he would transfer a note from nature into a finished composition without alteration — but the essential features are already there: the striated pattern of the valley, the low line of the distant hills, and the gentle slope of the hillock in the foreground. A second stage in the evolution from the sketch made from nature to the finished landscape painting is to be seen in a drawing in the Hermitage (fig. 238) connected with the St. John at Chicago, probably painted about 1644 as the second of an incomplete series of which the St. Matthew in Berlin was the first. This drawing is clearly not a direct study from nature, but a first scheme for the finished composition. On the other hand, the actual style is so similar to the Holkham drawing that one must suppose it to be very closely based on some drawing made in the 283

237. Poussin. Tiber Valley. Holkham Hall, Norfolk

238. Poussin. Classical Landscape with Figures. Hermitage Museum, Leningrad

239. Poussin. The Av en tine. Gabinetto Disegni e Stampe, Uffizi, Florence

Campagna. It does, however, show a clear advance toward the calculated spatial arrangement of the finished landscape painting. Perhaps the most striking of all Poussin's landscape drawings is the view of the Aventine (fig. 239), which he must have had in mind when he painted the second Baptism for Chantelou (pi. 156). This is an accurate topographical view of the hill, seen from the other side of the river in the afternoon, when the light falls from behind and slightly from the right, making haloes round the trees on the lower slope. But it already has the full clarity of structure which one expects in a finished painted composition, and Poussin has thrown in for good measure a subtlety of light which proves that he could equal Claude on his own ground. So far we have examined the origins of Poussin's style in landscape painting and the material which he drew from nature for the construction of his masterpieces in this genre. It remains to consider those masterpieces themselves. During the short space of three years, between 1648 and 1651, Poussin produced no less than thirteen major landscapes still traceable today.8 The greatest and the most famous of these are built round themes which Poussin took from his favorite Stoic writers: the two landscapes with the story of Phocion (pis. 176, 177) and the Diogenes (pi. 188), and in them, as has already been said,9 Poussin gave his most splendid expression to the parallel between the two productions of the supreme reason: the harmony of nature and the virtue of man. 10 One, the Orpheus and Eurydice 8. The traditional dating of the Diogenes and the Polyphemus has recently been challenged, in my opinion without justification (cf. Catalogue, entries Nos. 150 and 175). 9. See above, ch. IV.

10. The idea of painting the Evangelists in a landscape setting may have the same implication. The doctrine expounded in the Gospels is a manifestation of the logos, a point made particularly clear in the first chapter of

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John.

NICOLAS POUSSIN (pi. 191), is a straightforward version of a myth, and a second, the Polyphemus (pi. 190), is a more complex rendering of a theme also from classical mythology; but there remains a group of landscapes which do not fall into any of these categories and which need rather careful examination. They are most conveniently approached through the Landscape with a Man Killed by a Snake in the National Gallery, London, painted for Pointel, probably in 1648 (pi. 182). Various theories have been put forward to explain the subject of this mysterious picture. It has been suggested that it represents a scene from Apuleius, the story of Cadmus, or that of Adrastus and Hypsipyle,11 but none of these exactly fits the painting. Felibien, writing in 1685, simply says that it shows ffa dead man encircled by a snake and another man who runs away," and in a second reference he analyzes the manner in which Poussin has expressed the effect of terror, but makes no mention of the classical theme. ^ Fenelon, who devotes to it one of his two dialogues on painting, in which the speakers are Leonardo and Poussin, makes it clear that in his opinion the painting did not incorporate any traditional story. The dialogue ends as follows: Isn't it true that these different degrees of fear and surprise form a kind of play which arouses the emotions and gives pleasure? LEONARDO: I agree, but what is this composition? Is it a history? If so, I don't know it. It's rather a piece of fantasy. POUSSIN: It's a piece of fantasy. 13 POUSSIN:

Now if Poussin had intended to portray a story from classical history or mythology, Felibien or Fenelon would almost certainly have known it and identified it, and we may therefore conclude either that Poussin embodied in this painting one of his most esoteric and allusive themes, which might have escaped his two interpreters, or that the solution is much more straightforward. Generally 11. The story from the Golden Ass (8. 19-21). tentatively suggested by A. S. F. Govv (cf. Watson, p. 17), tells of a young man who was lured into a wood and killed by a dragon, his dead body being later found by his companions. This, however, would not account for the waterpot which the dead youth clasps in the painting. The story of Cadmus (Ovid Metamorphoses 3. Iff) was proposed by Guy de Tervarent (pp. 349fT) developing a footnote of Watson. Cadmus was sent by his father in search of his sister Europa. During the course of his travels he came to a remote spot where, according to the Oracle of Apollo, he was to found a city. He sent some of his companions to fetch water for a libation, but they were killed by a dragon, the son of Mars, who kept the spring. This story does not fit the painting, because there should be several corpses, and there are several in all the illustrations of the tale produced by Tervarent. Moreover, the scene should not take place so near the city, which appears prominently in the background. Tervarent also identifies a painting in the Musee Magnin at Dijon by the early-nineteenth-century painter M. J. Blondel as

representing the same story, hut this fits it even less well, since it shows one corpse and two serpents, and the scene takes place almost inside the town. The story of Hypsipyle (Statius Thebais 4. 730) finding the dead Archemorus and then being protected by Adrastus from the wrath of Lycurgus does not agree with the painting, because the victim would be a child, not a youth, the dead body should be found by a woman, and the Argive warriors should appear. 12. IV, pp. 63, 150. The quotation is from p. 63: "II y a un homme mort et entoure d*un serpent, et un autre homme qui s'enfuit." 13. Cf. Maziere de Monville, p. 229. The original reads as follows: POUSSIN: N'est-il pas vrai que ces divers degres de crainte et de surprise font une espece de jeu qui touche et qui plait? LEONARD DE VINCI: J'en conviens. Mais qu'est-ce que ce dessein? Est-ce une histoire? je ne la connois pas. C'est plutot un caprice, POUSSIN: C'est un caprice.

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LANDSCAPE speaking, Poussin's paintings with hidden meanings date from the very end of his career, and in this particular case a good and old tradition points to a much simpler solution. The engraving after the picture by Etienne Baudet, dated 1701,14 has on it an inscription which states: "It is said that Poussin painted the picture on the occasion of an incident which happened in his time in the neighborhood of Rome," and the catalogue of the Robert Strange sale, at which the picture appeared in 1773, provides more precise information: "The scene of this picture represents a prospect of the ancient City of Terracina, in the kingdom of Naples. It was in the neighbourhood of this city, in the morass of Pontius [Pontine Marshes], that the catastrophe which gave rise to the subject of this picture, happened, in the year 1641."^ This statement is surprisingly circumstantial, and it is the more worthy of being taken seriously because the author of the catalogue entry goes on to quote a letter from the artist to his patron Pointel, giving the date of 1648 for its execution, which, in spite of differing from the dating of about 1651—52 implied by Felibien, has been generally accepted by modern scholars. It is therefore quite possible that the subject which he gives for the painting comes from the same source. In fact, except for two unimportant details, the account given in the Strange catalogue stands up perfectly to investigation. Between Terracina and Sperlonga on the Tyrrhenian coast lies a semicircular plain surrounded by mountains. This area contained the ancient city of Amyclae or Amunclae, which was abandoned by its inhabitants in Roman times; near it now rises the town of Fondi, founded in the early Middle Ages. The district surrounding these two places has always been notorious for its snakes. One version of the desertion of Amyclae, told by Varro and Pliny,16 states that it was completely overrun by snakes, and Servius 17 adds the reason, namely that the inhabitants were Pythagoreans and therefore could not kill any animal. 18 Fondi was plagued in a similar manner, and in the first half of the seventeenth century was almost deserted, partly because of the malaria, partly because of the buffaloes belonging to the Princess of Stigliano, and partly because of the snakes.19 Poussin must have seen the town, and at its worst moment, if, as seems likely, he passed through it on the journey which we know he made to Gaeta probably before 1630. There is a vivid description of the place in 1632, left by another Frenchman, Jean-Jacques Bouchard, whom Poussin knew, since he was a member of Pozzo's circle and was traveling with letters from him to friends in Naples when he passed through Fondi: 14. Andresen 442. 15. Watson, p. 17. 16. Naturalis historia 3. 9. 6 and 8. 43. 1 (citing Varro). The story is told in the seventeenth century by Athanasius Kircher (Latium, Amsterdam, 1671, p. 26) whom Poussin almost certainly knew. I am very grateful to Professor E. Paribeni for calling my attention to the story of Amyclae and starting me on a search in the Fondi area. 17. In Vergilii Aeneidos libros . . . commentarii 10. 564. Vergil's own phrase frtacitae Amyclae" is evocative rather than explicit, and Servius, in fact, offers various different

interpretations for it, of which only the destruction by snakes is relevant to Poussin's painting. 18. Cf. Ettore Pai's, "Amunclae a serpentibus deletae," Italia antic a, Bologna, 1922, II, pp. 295ff. PaiV explanation of the puzzle is ingenious, but does not concern us here. 19. Cf. S. Aurigemma, A. Bianchini, and A. de Santis, Circco-1 erracina-Tondi, Rome, 1957, p. 55'^ and B. Amanto and R. Bianchi, Memorie storiche e statuarie di Fondi in Campania, Rome, 1903, pp. 175if, who quote a description of the town in 1631.

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NICOLAS POUSSIN A monk of Fondi told Orestes [the pseudonym of Bouchard] that in summer the snakes grow to such size and come in such quantities that this is one of the causes which has emptied Fondi of its population, so that out of seven or eight hundred houses hardly two dozen are inhabited, all the others being shut up. . . . The town is very fine, the streets broad and straight and paved like the Appian Way. The houses are fine and spacious, among them the palace of the Princess of Stigliano, who owns the estate. It is probably one of the biggest in the whole kingdom. There are also great numbers of gardens planted with orange and lemon trees, which are breaking under the weight of fruit going rotten for lack of people to pick it. One can hardly look at such desolation without weeping. It only began some years ago, when the princess built a number of procnoii or stables for buffaloes, which number more than a thousand, and which grazing and bellowing in the marshes round the city, have so fouled the air with their filthy smell and breath that of the people who are left two or three die every day, and the others seem like larvae or skeletons. All the women have swollen bellies as if they were pregnant. And this contagion seems even to affect their minds, for Orestes found those he talked to half mad and wild, and so fierce that they took offense if one spoke to them. And he was told that there were no greater robbers and assassins in the whole kingdom than the people of Fondi.20 Evidently the decay of Fondi was notorious in the seventeenth century, and Poussin and Bouchard had seen it and carried the story to Rome. The theme of a man killed by a snake was, therefore, suitable to the area round Fondi, and the setting of the story also corresponds with the layout and character of the country, though, as would be expected, Poussin has altered many details. The lake is the Lago di Fondi, which lies in the plain between Terracina and Fondi itself, just at the foot of the hills which come down steeply on to the plain. It is still famous for its fish,21 which is no doubt why Poussin shows a boat on the lake with men fishing from it. In the background is the city of Fondi and behind it the main line of the mountains. The view of the city is surprisingly accurate in its essentials. Fondi lies on the plain at the foot of the mountains, exactly as it is shown by Poussin, and it is still surrounded by walls with semicircular towers, though these are no longer as tall as they appeared in the sixteenth century (cf. fig. 240). The town is dominated by the three towers of the castcllo (fig. 241), two of which are placed in a very unusual manner, cheek by jowl, as in the painting.22 On the lower spurs of the hills which run above the lake stands the village of Monte San Biagio, with a castle which must once have had a tall tower and looked not unlike the building on the hill to the left in the painting. In fact, if we read "Fondi" for "Terracina," and move the scene round the headland from the Pontine Marshes to those of Fondi, the account given of the picture by Strange is perfectly correct.2^ 20. Cf. L. Marcheix, Un Parisien a Rome el a Naples en 1632, Paris, n. d. [ca. 1897]. p. 14. 21. Cf. G. Conti-Colini, Storia di Fondi, Naples. 1901. 22. Admittedly all three have round tops, though one has a square base. 23. In one detail it is inconsistent, but its inconsistency fits the actual facts. Terracina and the Pontine Marshes were

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in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries in the Papal States and not in the Kingdom of Naples. On the other hand, the frontier between the two states ran a few miles east of Terracina, and Fondi was in the territory of Naples. Perhaps unconsciously Strange located the scene in the right state,

240. Attributed to Pieter Bruegel the Elder.

J7*