Appendix C—Extracts from letters from Seymour Kirkup to Gabriele Rossetti concerning the discovery of the Giotto portrai
APPENDIX C
EXTRACTS from letters from Seymour Kirkup to Gabriele Rossetti, concerning the discovery of the Giotto portrait of Dante in the Bargello, and Kirkup’s drawing from it.1
I
FLORENCE, 12 September, 1840.
. . . We have made a discovery of an original portrait of Dante in fresco by Giotto ! Although I was a magna pars in this undertaking, the Jacks in Office have not allowed me yet to make a copy. Sono tanto gelosi, most likely afraid I should publish it and prevent some friends of their own reaping all the profit they hope from that speculation.
I was the person who first mentioned to Sig. Bezzi, a Pied-montese and friend of Carlo Eastlake’s, the existence of the portrait under the whitewash of three centuries. We were joined by an American, and we three undertook at our expense to employ a restorer to uncover the walls of the old chapel in the palace of the Podestà in search of the portrait—mentioned by F. Villani, Filelfo, L. Aretino, Vasari, Cinelli, etc. Nothing but the constancy and talent of Sig. Bezzi could have overcome the numberless obstacles and refusals we met with. He wrote and spoke with the persuasions of an advocate, and persevered with the obstinacy and activity of an Englishman (which I believe he now is). He alone was the cause of success. We should have had no chance without him. At last, after uncovering enough of three walls to ascertain it was not there, the Government took the task into their own hands, on our terms, with the same restorer, and in the fifth wall they have succeeded. The number of walls is six, for the chapel has been divided into two—(magazines of wine, oil, bread, etc. for the prisoners).
The precise date of the painting is not known. The poet looks about twenty-eight—very handsome—un Apollo colle fattezze di Dante. The expression and character are worthy of the subject, and much beyond what I expected from Giotto. Raphael might own it with honour. Add to which it is not the mask of a corpse of fifty-six—a ruin—but a fine, noble image of the Hero of Campaldino, the Lover of Beatrice. The costume very interesting—no beard or even a lock of hair. A white cap, over which a white capuccio, lined with dark red showing the edge turned back. A parchment book under his arm—perhaps the Vita Nuova.
It is in a group of many others—one seems Charles II of Naples. Brunetto Latini and Corso Donati are mentioned by the old authors.
II
FLORENCE, 14 September, 1841.
By the time you receive this, I hope that the portrait of Dante, for you, will be in London. The gentleman who has taken charge of it was in such haste to leave the country (from the consequences of a fatal duel) that I had not an opportunity for writing.
You will receive, in fact, three portraits. They are as follows:—
No. 1. A drawing in chalk, on light-brown paper, of the face as large as the original. I had intended to write a memorandum on it, but in my hurry it was forgotten. Perhaps you would have the kindness to add it, if you think it worth while, viz.:—
“Drawn by S. K., and traced with talc, on the original fresco by Giotto, discovered in the Chapel of the Palazzo del Podestà, Florence, on the 21st July, 1840, before it was retouched.”
No. 2. A small sketch in water-colours, giving the colours of the dress, and the heads supposed to be of Corso Donati and Brunetto Latini.
No. 3. A lithography by the painter and restorer Marini, who uncovered the painting. This is made on a tracing by himself.
I thought it useful to send you these in order to give you a better idea of this very interesting discovery—Dante, under thirty years of age. With respect to No. 1, it is fixed with glue-water, and will not rub out with common usage. The only thing it is liable to is the cracking or bending of the paper, which sometimes in a face alters the expression.
Since I drew it, I have had the mortification to see the original retouched, and its beauty destroyed. You will perceive that the eye is wanting. A deep hole in the wall was found exactly on that spot, as if done on purpose. It was necessary to fill it that it might not extend further; not content, they ordered Sig. Marini to paint the eye on it, and he has daubed over the face in many parts, to the ruin of its expression and character. It is now fifteen years older, a mean pinched expression, and an effeminate character, compared to what it was. It is not quite so bad as the lithography I send you, but not far from it. When I saw what was done, I asked a young man, his assistant, if it was done with colours in tempera, and he assured me, with a boast, that it was in bon fresco. If so, Dante is gone for good. But I have still hopes that he spoke only of the eye, and many of my friends think it can only be accomplished on the old, and hard painting by some distemper-colour of a glue, size, or egg; and, if so, a damp cloth fixed on it for half an hour will bring it all away without injuring the original fresco. I mean to take my time, and perhaps some day I may restore Dante to himself a second time. I had the principal part in the late discovery.
The lithography I send you is exceedingly unlike and incorrect, though a tracing. In shading and finishing he has totally lost and changed the outhne, if he ever had it. It is vulgar, old, and effeminate—the contrary in every respect to the original. The Florentines of to-day cannot draw, nor even trace. Think of what such a hand would do, if allowed to paint over it! and that has been the case. . . . When I mentioned to you that my drawing was a secret, I only meant that, if known here that I obtained access to make a tracing by bribery, it would compromise those who had assisted me. You are welcome to show it to whom you please, and do whatever you wish with it. But I recommend you not to give it away, for it is the only copy that has been made to my knowledge before the fresco was retouched,2 except the miserable lithography which I send; and, if so bad a copy was produced by the help of tracing, and from the original in its pure state, nothing very good is to be expected in future. The eye in the said lithography was, of course, added by the copier. You will perceive by my drawing that the outhne (the eye lash) remained, which was fortunate, as it gives the exact situation of the feature.
III
FLORENCE, 5 February, 1843.
. . . The three pomegranates in Giotto’s fresco are so uncertain in their appearance, from injury and time, that I was doubtful about them, but a word from you decides the question in my mind. They are chipped and much obliterated; and, from there seeming a sort of double outhne, and no shade or colour but the yellow drapery on which they are painted, I took them for an embroidery on the breast of the Barone. Some remains of fingers and stalk, however, had led the Florentines to consider them as melograni, and they were puzzling their brains to find a meaning.
1These extracts are reprinted from Gabriele Rossetti: A Versified Autobiography (pp. 144-54), by kind permission of Mr. W. M. Rossetti, and Messrs. Sands and Co.
2Another drawing, the original of which is now in Berlin, was made by Perseo Faltoni, who acted as assistant to Marini, the “restorer” of the fresco (see T. Paur, Dante’s Porträt, in Jahrbuch der Deutschen Dante-Gesellschaft, vol. ii. pp. 301-2 ; and K. Witte’s note, p. 440). A reproduction of this drawing is given by F. X. Kraus in Dante, Sein Leben und Sein Werk, p. 166.