The collector Earl & his modern marbles: Thomas Howard & Francois Dieussart: Charles Avery elucidates the puzzles that surround the Earl of Arundel's patronage of the talented itinerant Flemish sculptor Francois Dieussart.
The present story starts with a letter sent by the Earl of Arundel's agent in Venice, Francesco Vercellini, to Floriano Damini, chaplain to Alvise Contarini, who--having once been Venetian ambassador to London, where he had met Arundel--was currently posted to the Roman embassy. Dated 6 and 16 September 1633, it is the first document to connect sculptor and patron. (3) But it refers to a memorandum (memorialle) submitted by 'Sig[nore] Fran[cesco] Diussart Vallone scultore' to Contarini and evidently passed on by him to Arundel, the Earl Marshall, which--annoyingly--has gone missing. It may be inferred from the letter that Dieussart, via the prestigious intermediary Contarini, had recommended his services to the prospective patron, claiming that he had been sounded out by one Baldovino Brivel, a merchant (and judging from his name--Baudouin--quite possibly a fellow-countryman of Dieussart's), about his readiness to come over to England.
Embarrassingly, Arundel could not recall the episode. Vercellini remembered only approaching another sculptor, Clemente Coltreci of San Lorenzo in Lucina (today unknown), 14 years earlier and then again three years prior to the date of the letter. He had ascertained that Coltreci was 'one of the best in Rome at restoring statues of the sort [i.e. antique fragments] which His Excellency had in great quantities'. Even so, Arundel was under no obligation to Coltreci, any more than to Dieussart, and he did not care which of them came, as long as he met his conditions. He wanted a sculptor who was good at both producing original work and restoring statues, bas-reliefs and other ancient marbles. The latter role was far more prestigious then than it sounds today, for antiquities were so highly regarded that it was a privilege to be allowed to supply missing parts.
Vereellini's next paragraph begins firmly:
Take care to get a decent, obedient man who is up to the job. His travelling expenses will be met and when he has arrived here [presumably meaning London, not Venice?] he will be given a room and a studio. For his living expenses and salary for the work he does, whether making new sculpture or restoring old, he will be paid 20 to 25 scudi monthly, with ten of them dependent on the quality of his work. It is essential that the sculptor be commissioned to send over a quantity of spare marble for restoring figures and other carvings. Pieces of porphyry, serpentine, alabaster, oriental granite and other pieces of broken remains; these can be bought very cheaply in Rome. The said marbles can be consigned to the aforesaid Mr. Baldovino, who will pay for them.
What had given Dieussart the temerity to approach the English grandee in the first place? He had not long reached Rome at the time when Vercellini had initially investigated the mysterious Coltreci, '14 years ago', i.e.c. 1619, and so would not have been known or--probably--been willing to depart so soon. In fact, he did not leave Rome until after March 1635--18 months after Vercellini's letter--as we know from an export licence granted to him then (see below). However, between these dates, on 29 January 1626, one William Smith, a painter who acted in Rome for Lord Arundel, had applied for a licence to export from the State of the Holy Church some 70 pictures and a quantity of other works of art. (4) These included a 'modern', life-size, bronze bust of Socrates; four crates of various 'modern' plaster casts of legs, torsos, heads and busts; another crate with various plasters and 'modern' terracotta figures; various fragments of stone-carvings, including friezes, garlands and bas-reliefs, five small alabaster vases and some modern vases; a restored statue of Athena; a Diana; a bust of Apollo; and a draped portrait statue of Lord Arundel, nine palmi high.
No such six-foot high statue is known today, unless an accident happened to it during or after shipping to London. In that case the unusually tall, almost half-length, portrait of Thomas Howard, today in the Ashmolean Museum, could have begun life as its upper part, later re-cut into the form of a bust (Fig. 1). The bust is not documented, although its provenance and appearance link it ineluctably with the Earl, and hence with his house-sculptor, Dieussart. (5) When in the 1960s it was first brought to light, having been dragged from a fire in 1878 at Greystoke Castle, Penrith (a Howard property), its right shoulder was missing, from a clean, planar, diagonal break. Could this have been the junction, not with some continuous drapery running over the shoulder of a bust (as it has now been restored), but with a whole raised right arm with some appropriate attribute in its hand? Such a pose would accord with the backward tilt of Howard's head and the upward gaze of the pupils of his eyes, when seen from slightly below, as would have been the case with a full-length statue. The radical hollowing out of the bust behind would have occurred only when the statue was being transformed into its new shape, as would the supply of the separately carved socle with its appropriate heraldic animal-heads. Of the bust, normally believed to have been made in England around 1636, Katharine Eustace has written eloquently:
The bust of Arundel may well have been intended for the galleries at Arundel House. On an unusually large scale, the bust has none of the hieratic quality associated with the portrait sculpture of Le Sueur, or even of Dieussart's Charles L Comparable, in sculptural terms, with the portrayal of the Earl by Rubens and Van Dyck in its vigorous characterisation and bold use of drapery, it reflects developments in portrait sculpture under Bernini. Arundel had expressed a wish to be portrayed by Bernini. It is indeed for its date, the most advanced piece of baroque classicism executed in England. It bears a strong resemblance to the Imperial prototypes of the bearded and mantled Marcus Aurelius and Septimius Severus, or perhaps more specifically given the geographical location of the Howard lands at Greystoke, to the Antoninus Pius and Hadrian types. Examples of these types no longer survive amongst the Arundel Marbles, but it has been suggested, may well now be found amongst those in the collection of the Earl of Pembroke at Wilton.
[FIGURE 1 OMITTED]
If the present hypothesis as to its origins is correct, then the 'bust' may prove to be related to a classical statue of an emperor instead, among which the raised or at least extended right arm was a frequent rhetorical gesture redolent of imperial power. Such a prototype would then have to be found among the ample supply in Rome, and not in the exiguous number then in England, Secondly, it would imply that Dieussart was already in touch with Arundel--albeit perhaps indirectly--in 1625, but that a decade later the Earl had forgotten all about him. The only way to account for this would to suppose that the portrait was delivered by some other better-known sculptor or middleman who suppressed the unfamiliar name of its executant, who at the time was a tiro of little account carving statuettes out of ivory. A similarity that has been remarked recently between the cloaked image of Lord Arundel and a copy on the tomb of Cardinal Antonio Barberini in San Giovanni dei Fioretini, Rome, of a bust made of him from life by Bernini, assisted ably by Giuliano Finelli, has led to the supposition that the copy may have been carved by Dieussart. If the dates prove to coincide this would provide corroboration that the portrait of Arundel could have been carved in Rome.
However all this may be--and admittedly it sounds rather far-fetched--there is a second string to the bow connecting Dieussart with Arundel as early as the extensive shipment of 1626, for the inventory continues as follows: 2 piedi intagliati di commesso con l'arme del Sig Conte della Rondella con la sua tavola di 10 palmi lunga et 5 larga di commesso di varie sorte di alabastri et di mischio moderni--that is, two carved supports inlaid with the arms of the earl of Arundel with their table top, 10 palmi long and five wide, inlaid with varied alabasters and mottled marbles, all modern. (6)
Nicholas Penny attempted guardedly to associate with these table supports a pair of marble reliefs among the Arundel Marbles in the Ashmolean Museum, which indeed bear the heraldic beasts of their owner (Fig. 4). (7) He remarked that, while roughly fitting under the given width
of the table top, they were far too low and would have needed a further 'plinth' below, also noting that there were no signs of marble inlay. He continued, correctly, 'The nature of the marble used for these supports suggests that they were made in Rome, carved out of "marmo di scavo". The carving is coarse with a very obvious use of a large drill. The back of each support is so rough that one wonders whether they were intended to be incorporated in a wall. The Handbook Guide to the University Galleries described them as the fronts of capitals for pilasters and as ancient work. (8)
[FIGURE 4 OMITTED]
Of course the items are modern, granted the congruity of the unusual trio of animal heads with the supporters of the coat-of-arms of Arundel, together with the special hound, which is the punning device for his wife's surname, Talbot. However, one can now allow them to be what they always looked like - capitals for some pilasters built against a wall. They probably flanked a doorway into one of the rooms in Arundel House--perhaps even into the Sculpture Gallery leading down the side of the garden towards the River Thames, which is to be descried in the background of Mytens's famous full-length portrait of the Collector Earl (Arundel Castle).
The reason is that the actual table supports turned up unexpectedly last year in a sale of the remaining contents of Easton Neston and its gardens, from which most of the Arundel Marbles now in Oxford had been extracted long ago (Fig. 3). (9) They had been re-used--presumably after the valuable, ornamental pietre dure table top had been sold--ignominiously, although not altogether inappropriately in view of their canine imagery--as supports for a tombstone to 'Pug', a pet 'who departed this life June ye 24th 1754 in the third year of her Age'. (10)
[FIGURE 3 OMITTED]
Alas, the present appearance of the long-lost supports is but a shadow of their former glory, for the rich polychromy of their inlay in pietre dure has been lost, owing to the removal of the valuable coloured stones that once relieved their plain white framework. Even so, these are no merely ornamental baroque table supports, but a pair of imaginatively conceived and well carved sculptures in relief. Within the boldly-wrought voluted architectonic framework prance symmetrical pairs of vivacious steeds to support the circular Garter containing the Earl's arms. Its heraldic tincture of gules would once have been picked out appropriately in marble of a rich red hue. On the inside of the supports, low enough down to be just visible to a viewer standing nearby, are carved two barking talbots with curly tails prancing above foliate seed-pods that spring from between the confronted volutes. These enthusiastically and sympathetically rendered animals are entirely consistent with those shown just as heads on the capitals in the Ashmolean Museum and--most importantly--with the lion rampant on the socle of the bust of Lord Arundel (the only original animal left on it). The last provides a direct connection with Dieussart's own hand, and one that may now--not unreasonably--be applied also to the capitals and the table-supports. The latter, having definitely been carved in Rome before January 1626, provide the missing link between artist and his patron, on which he no doubt dwelt in his ill-fated memorialle of 1633. If Arundel never knew or had forgotten the name of the carver of so magnificent a table, might he not equally have been unaware of exactly who had carved his portrait at the same time?
In any case, as has been established after years of controversy, Dieussart did indeed succeed in having himself hired, through the good offices of Vercellini and Contarini's chaplain Damini, by Lord Arundel in 1634 or 1635. On 12 March 1635, the sculptor was issued with the necessary licence to export via Leghorn, on one or more occasions, various 'modern' statues, presumably his own work: two marble busts of Sibyls, a group of two figures including Narcissus, a portrait of a child (a 'putto', perhaps like those by Duquesnoy, or perhaps a real boy, such as Tom, Arundel's grandson), a thigh, a herm pedestal, and a wooden crate containing various plaster models. (11) None of these items has so far been identified. However, as Edward Chaney wrote, by 8-10 December 1635 (rather than 1636, as was previously accepted) Dieussart had had time after his arrival in London to design and construct for Queen Henrietta and her Franciscan missionaries, 'an extraordinary, forty-foot high, kinetic and artificially illuminated apparato for the large Catholic chapel that Inigo Jones was completing on the site of the old tennis courts at Somerset House (adjacent to Arundel House).' (12) This leaves only nine months for the sculptor to have made the move from Rome, with his completed statues and all the materials and paraphernalia necessary for his further activity in London. The apparato for the Queen would have been run up from wood, canvas, plaster and so forth, materials readily available in London.
However, Dieussart must also, according to the date of 1636 inscribed on its socle, have completed in this same brief span the first of his busts--probably from a block of marble imported with him from Rome--showing none other than King Charles himself (Fig. 5). (13) It is a good portrait head, set on shoulders clad in armour, which is by its very nature inexpressive. The features may have been taken from life, if Arundel procured a sitting from the monarch. Otherwise, they could have been copied from the famous 'triple-portrait' of Charles that was being painted at this very moment by Van Dyck, for transmission to Rome, where--thanks to the intervention of the Catholic queen, Henrietta Maria, with the Barberini pope--Bernini had been allowed leave from the papal monopoly of his services to carve the royal likeness. (14)
[FIGURE 5 OMITTED]
Perhaps the fact that in both Dieussart's and Bernini's busts the king is shown in armour rather than the smart civilian garb of Van Dyck's picture, indicates some degree of competition between the sculptors. Dieussart's bust must have gladdened the eyes of the Howard patron and Smart subject for at least a year, until the moment of truth when, on Monday 27 July 1637, the lid was prised off the crate from Rome in Oatlands Palace. The king was so pleased with Bernini's bust that he rewarded him with a diamond ring worth the then enormous sum of 1,500 [pounds sterling]. Even so, Dieussart's bust, with its lively urn of head, heavy-lidded eyes, focussed glance and tumbling hair, is a masterpiece. It is infinitely superior--thanks to Dieussart's experience of sophisticated portraiture in Rome and his greater talent--to the wooden-looking 'icons' run up by Hubert le Sueur, his French predecessor, who held the office of court sculptor. (15)
The arrival of truly grandiose, baroque portraiture in England marked by these two busts of the ill-fated king was reinforced by the second Bernini bust to reach those shores, that of Thomas Baker, carved soon afterwards, in 1636-37, with his wonderful, bouffant coiffure and the trompe l'oeil motif of his elegantly gloved hand (Victoria and Albert Museum). Dieussart could not compete with this level of bravura, but nevertheless continued to carve lifelike--indeed characterful--portraits. By borrowing from Bernini and other Roman sculptors motifs such as the gathered folds of drapery running in catenary curves or bold diagonals, wind-tossed curls of hair, and asymmetrical silhouettes suggestive of movement, he managed to create a dramatic effect.
Lord Arundel, as Earl Marshall, was deeply involved with affairs of state and, furthermore, was ambitious to restore his family's name and status with his exploits. In 1635 the king's nephews (sons of his sister Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia) came over to London in the hope of enlisting support for their quest to restore the lands of the Palatinate to Charles Louis (1617-80), the elder of the pair. Arundel was keen on their mission and at the end of 1636 personally led an embassy to the Holy Roman Emperor to plead their cause, albeit in vain. To further their mutual aims, he evidently commissioned his newly-recruited sculptor to carve their portraits. Both are shown in armour, in view of their involvement in the war between Protestants and Catholics on mainland Europe (Figs. 6 and 7). The slight turn of Charles Louis' head as shown in Dieussart's image makes him appear to respond to the glance of his royal uncle--albeit with dispassionate arrogance. Both wear the lesser George of the Order of the Garter hanging from a ribbon round their necks and both affect the fashionable love-lock hanging below the rest of their curls over their left shoulders. The bust of Charles Louis is however distinguished by a highly ornate suit of armour, with pretendedly repousse military trophies and recumbent martial figures. Its cuirass is centred on an oval depiction of Venus and Cupid at the Forge of Vulcan, for which the rationale of course lies in the fact that the blacksmith is hammering out the armour for Mars, God of War. The fiat, plain bands of variously-curved shapes and the foliate motif at the throat recall the ornament that animates the table-supports (Fig. 4). Alas, the armour offers no animals for comparison with either them, or the capitals in Oxford. The brooding look of the 19-year old, dispossessed prince that Dieussart has caught and transmitted to posterity, accords with a thumbnail sketch of his character as 'a bad son, an unkind brother and an unfaithful husband'.
[FIGURES 6-7 OMITTED]
The bust of the younger brother, Prince Rupert of the Rhine, became inexplicably separated from the pair at Arundel Castle and was identified only in 1978 lurking unadmired among the detritus of the classical marbles in the Ashmolean Museum (Fig. 7). (16) Only 17, according to its inscription, his features are less marked by resentment than those of Charles Louis. While both busts bear the same date, 1637, one would naturally assume that the sculptor was asked to tackle the elder brother first, and carving such a piece would take some three months at least. In fact it can fairly be surmised that the Rupert was not carved until August of that year, after the arrival of Bernini's Charles I, for Dieussart borrowed directly from the latter its principal animating device, the swelling satin sword-scarf, spreading over the cuirass and knotted prominently over the right shoulder, thus dramatically breaking the silhouette of the armoured shoulders. Furthermore, Dieussart turned the head of Rupert more pronouncedly than that of his brother, as did Bernini with his image of the king, although in the opposite direction, so that the two busts could have made a meaningful pair, had they ever been displayed together. Lord Arundel--good courtier that he was--may have had it in mind to present Charles with the busts of his nephews, had history taken a different urn, both in the Palatinate and in Britain.
What might have been one of Bernini's most enchanting portraits, for which preparations were once again made in London with portraits painted from different angles by Van Dyck, was of Queen Henrietta Mafia, which--alas--fell by the wayside in the increasing confusion of the approaching Civil War. This failure may have given Dieussart the occasion to attempt his own portrait of the distraught queen (either at his, Charles's or Arundel's behest). A marble bust dated 1640 is at Rosenborg Castle, Copenhagen, the ancestral collection of the Danish monarchy (Fig. 8). Though not as refined as Dieussart's best work, it does bear some hallmarks of his style. Its surface remains rather coarse (for example the sharp angles at which the planes of her nose meet) but perhaps in the confusion that had begun to reign he was not able to give it the final touches from a life-sitting.
[FIGURE 8 OMITTED]
The sculptor is recorded as having carved a bust of Mary, the Princess Royal, as a child-bride in 1641, which, as he fled the country, he personally took to her new husband in Holland, but it is lost. However, a marble bust of Charles Prince of Wales (later King Charles II) in a private collection might also be a commission from Arundel or the Crown (Fig. 2). (17) This was an image of the utmost importance to the dynastic hopes of the Stuarts, particularly at the crucial juncture when--judging from the sitter's age--it must have been ordered, in the late 1630s, it may even date from 1640, the year when Dieussart carved the bust of the prince's mother, and--perhaps significantly--when Francesco Fanelli, his Italian rival, cast a small bronze bust of the prince for his governor, the Duke of Newcastle. The long beribboned love-locks and deeply drilled curls of hair, as well as the attempt to give some expression to the podgy, childish face by the sideways glance of the carefully incised eyes, recall Dieussart's approach. Furthermore, the treatment of the rosebud lips, prominent chin and rounded cheeks distinctly resemble the features of his mother, as recorded in the Copenhagen bust. The pedestrian attention to neurotically drilling out every hole in the pattern of lace is to be found in many of Dieussart's other busts, made after he abandoned England for the Continent.
[FIGURE 2 OMITTED]
To compensate for the diminutive natural size of the child, the sculptor chose to elevate the actual bust, with its panoply of lace and brocade, to the same height as an adult head would reach. He achieved this by inserting a separately carved pedestal below, consisting of two stout Duquesnoy-like nude putti, who look up adoringly at their royal burden and hold prominently in front the closed royal crown. The difference in scale between these almost heraldic supporters and the princeling also helps to aggrandise the latter. This strangely hieratic image is reminiscent of a Roman Catholic reliquary bust.
The unhappy history of neglect, sale and dispersal suffered by the 'Arundel Marbles', means that Dieussart's contributions to their restoration--many of which were removed in the era of archaeological correctness--are nigh impossible to assess. What has become of the items by him enumerated in the two shipments from Rome is also unclear. There is, however, in the Ashmolean Museum one statue that--as I have suggested elsewhere and as has been accepted (with due caution) by Nicholas Penny since--may be by him. (18) This depicts Judith with the truncated head of Holofernes and has been severely weathered and battered over the years (Fig. 9). The very visible drill-marks in the curls of hair--both of heroine and victim--the fringes on her gown and the treatment of the jewel at her bosom all find parallels in other, definite works. The statue serves to give an idea of what the 'modern' marbles in the two shipments may have looked like. As this very obvious subject is not listed in either inventory, it may have been carved during the sculptor's five-year sojourn in London.
[FIGURE 9 OMITTED]
Less well-known than he deserves to be on account of troubled times that forced him to be unusually itinerant, Dieussart set a sound standard for sculpture--especially portraiture--wherever he operated, breaking the mould of the stylised late- mannerist 'icons' that had previously passed muster in northern Europe. He spread the influence of Bernini and Duquesnoy through the imagery that he adopted and laid the groundwork for sculptors of the ensuing generation, who would thus be in a position to develop a fully baroque style in the various capitals where he worked. It is greatly to the credit of Thomas Howard that he spotted Dieussart's potential and persuaded him to come to London and carve some unforgettable images of the Caroline court.
(1) C. Avery, 'Francois Dieussart, portrait sculptor to the courts of northern Europe', Victoria and Albert Museum Yearbook, vol. IV, 1972, pp. 63-99 (reprinted in idem, Studies in European Sculpture, London, 1981, pp. 205-35); idem, 'Francois Dieussart', in J. Turner (ed.), The Dictionary of Art, London and New York, vol. VIII, 1996, pp. 884-85; idem, "Francois Dieussart', in A. Bostrom (ed.), The Encyclopaedia of Sculpture, New York and London, 2004, pp. 432-34.
(2) M. Boudon Machuel, 'Francois Dieussart in Rome: Two newly identified works', The Burlington Magazine, vol. CXLV, no. 1209 (December 2003), pp. 833-411.
(3) St Mark's Library, Venice, Marciana MS 9057, fols. 89-90: Il memorialle datto al Ecco.mo Sig. Arab Contarini mio commune sig.n dal Sig. Fran. Diussart Vallore scultore e stato dall ecc.mo Sig. Marascialle considerato, ma non si ricorda di haver mai datto ordine ne altri in suo nome al Sig. Balduino Briuel mercante di trattare con ditto scultore per la sua trasportatione in queste parti. Io bene quatordeci anni passatti essendo in Roma era per acordarmi con il Sn. Clemente Coltreci scultore in Santo Lorenzo in Lucina, e con l'istesso tre anni sono medess.te ne discoremo, et ebbi informatione che lui fusse uno de buoni in Roma per restaurare statue delle qualli sun ecc.mo qui ne ha grand.ma quantita, tutavia, non essendossi obligate sun etc.--piu ad uno che all'altro non si cura qualle di loro sia pure che le sue conditioni l'meritano. Hora il desidoio dell' ecc.m Sig. Marascialle si e' di havere qui un scultore valente nella sua professione, si nel fare opera nave, come nel restaurare statue Bassi rilevi et altri marmi antichi. Haver cura di pigliar un huomo da bene, quietto, e che sia capace dell dovere li sara pagatto il sun Viaggio; arrivato qui, havera stanza, et locho per lavorare. Per il suo vivere et ricompensa alle opera che lui fara, sia case nove, opera restaurare, haveva per suo pagamento, scudi 20/in 25 al messed a quelli died per scudi in circa second oil suo merito nel operare. Stara in pratica, quell scultore the sara acordatto di mandar qui una quantita di marmi per restaurare figure et altri marmi Pezzi di porfido, serpentine, allabastro orientalle granite, et simili pezzi di rottami; li qualli si hanno a buonissimo mercato in Roma detti marmi si potrano consegnare al Sig Balduino suddetto, il qualle sara il pagatore, Li race. Di la lett.a del s. Caraceielle, e' mi sara gratia di conoscerlo. V.S. averita mi assicuro di buon cuore il Sig. Marescialle, in queste cose che e di tanto suo gusto, con dame canto dell'operaii ...
(4) F. Gori, Archivio Storico Artistico Archeologico Letterario Romano, 1880, fasc. 11, pp. 74-91.
(5) K. Eustace, in N. Penny and D. Howarth (eds.), Patronage and Collecting in the Seventeenth Century: Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel, exh. cat., Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, 1985, p. 12, no. 4; D. Howarth, Lord Arundel and his Circle, New Haven and London 1985, pp. 162-64; Nicholas Penny, Catalogue of the Sculpture at the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, 1992, no. 472; E. Chaney, 'Thomas Howard, 14th Earl of Arundel, by Francois Dieussatt', APOLLO, vol. CXLIV, no. 414 (August 1996), pp. 49-50.
(6) The identification of the 'Conte della Rondella' as a phonetic rendering of 'Conte di (or dell') Arundel' was first pointed out by Jacob Hess, 'Lord Arundel in Rom und sein Auftrag an den Bildhauer Egidio Moretti', English Miscellany, vol. I, 1950, p. 213.
(7) Penny; op. cit. in n. 5 above, Oxford, 1992, p. 198, nos. 139-40. He also noted: "A recent book on Arundel interprets "Sua tavola", which must in context mean "their table top", as "his picture" and "commesso" as "mosaic", and supposes that Arundel had commissioned a mosaic portrait of himself 9 feet high (D. Howarth, Lord Arundel and his Circle, New Haven and London, 1985, pp. 56-57.'
(8) A. Michaelis, Ancient Marbles in Great Britain, Cambridge, 1882, p. 571, nos. 123 and 124.
(9) Sotheby's house sale at Easton Neston, Northamptonshire, 17-19 May 2005, lot 239, with an excellent, extended catalogue entry.
(10) Pug's grandiose epitaph continues in mock heroic doggerel, 'No Blazond Coat or Sculptard Bone/Honours we scarcely deem our own/Adorn this simple rustick Stone/But Love & Friendship without Blame/With Gratitude we justly claim/When will Faith ever find the same?/Not unlamented now she dies/Besprinkled here this Tribute lies/With heavenly tears from Angels eyes.'
(11) Archivio di Stato di Roma, Camerale, 1-4, Diversorum Camerlengo 515, fol. 37: 'Ippolito Z Camerlengo Per tenore el comediamo licenza a Francesco Diusarso e per lui al patron Pietro Sarda, et altti occasioni, the possa in una o piu volte estraere e far estraere cia questa alma citta di Roma chi tratto statue moderne cioe: Due Sibille di marmot in bus& 2 a Narciso in gruppo, un nitratto d'un putto, una coscia, un erma podesta, et una cassa di legno con dentro diversi modelli di gesso, e quail' pagando il solito pagarsi [word indecipherable] e farli condurre a Livorno ha termine di due mesi commandiamo pero a chi spetta, che sotto pena di 500 ducati et altro a nostro arbitio, che per tal cento non sia molestato vogliamo bene la quantita che di volta in volta si vera estraendo li debba annotare a tergo le dal nostro Cam.ro sopra di cio deputato accio non si commetta fraude alcuna in fede per questo di 123 Matzo 1635. Antonius Cicalottus'.
(12) Chaney, op. cit.
(13) Avery, op. cit. in n. 1 above (1972/1981).
(14) Idem, Bernini, Genius of the Baroque, London, 1997, pp. 224-30.
(15) Idem, 'Hubert le Sueur, the "unworthy Praxiteles" of King Charles I', in The Walpole Society, vol. XLVIII, 1982, pp. 135-209 (reprinted in C. Avery, Studies in European Sculpture II, London, 1988, pp. 145-235).
(16) Michael Vickers, 'Rupert of the Rhine, a new portrait by Dieussart, and Bernini's Charles I', in APOLLO vol. CVII, no. 193 (March 1978), pp. 161-69: I do not accept Vickers's extrapolation about the identity of Dieussart's Charles I.
(17) Kindly brought to my attention by Leon Lock. Lent to: Works of Art from Midland Houses, exh. car., Birmingham City Museum and Art Gallery, 1953, no. 181 (as Dutch School, 17th century). The bust seems otherwise to be unpublished.
(18) C. Avery in the catalogue for the sale of The Arundel Marbles and Other Sculpture from Farley Court and Hall Barn, Christie's, London, 10 December 1985, p. 16, discussing fragmentary torsos from the Arundel Collection which are neither Roman nor Greek antiquities; Penny. op. cit. in n. 7 above, pp. 35-36, no. 473.
Charles Avery is an art historian specialising in sculpture, and an independent fine art consultant.
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|Date:||Jun 1, 2006|
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