The Life of Michelangelo Buonarroti by John Addington Symonds

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THE LIFE OF MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI

By JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS

TO THE CAVALIERE GUIDO BIAGI, DOCTOR IN LETTERS, PREFECT OF THE
MEDICEO-LAURENTIAN LIBRARY, ETC., ETC.

I DEDICATE THIS WORK ON MICHELANGELO IN RESPECT FOR HIS SCHOLARSHIP
AND LEARNING ADMIRATION OF HIS TUSCAN STYLE AND GRATEFUL
ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF HIS GENEROUS ASSISTANCE

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. BIRTH, BOYHOOD, YOUTH AT FLORENCE, DOWN TO LORENZO DE' MEDICI'S
DEATH. 1475-1492.

II. FIRST VISITS TO BOLOGNA AND ROME--THE MADONNA DELLA FEBBRE AND
OTHER WORKS IN MARBLE. 1492-1501.

III. RESIDENCE IN FLORENCE--THE DAVID. 1501-1505.

IV. JULIUS II. CALLS MICHELANGELO TO ROME--PROJECT FOR THE POPE'S
TOMB--THE REBUILDING OF S. PETER'S--FLIGHT FROM ROME--CARTOON
FOR THE BATTLE OF PISA. 1505, 1506.

V. SECOND VISIT TO BOLOGNA--THE BRONZE STATUE OF JULIUS
II--PAINTING OF THE SISTINE VAULT. 1506-1512.

VI. ON MICHELANGELO AS DRAUGHTSMAN, PAINTER, SCULPTOR.

VII. LEO X. PLANS FOR THE CHURCH OF S. LORENZO AT
FLORENCE--MICHELANGELO'S LIFE AT CARRARA. 1513-1521.

VIII. ADRIAN VI AND CLEMENT VII--THE SACRISTY AND LIBRARY OF S.
LORENZO. 1521-1526.

IX. SACK OF ROME AND SIEGE OF FLORENCE--MICHELANGELO'S FLIGHT TO
VENICE--HIS RELATIONS TO THE MEDICI. 1527-1534.

X. ON MICHELANGELO AS ARCHITECT.

XI. FINAL SETTLEMENT IN ROME--PAUL III.--THE LAST JUDGMENT AND THE
PAOLINE CHAPEL--THE TOMB OF JULIUS. 1535-1542.

XII. VITTORIA COLONNA AND TOMMASO CAVALIERI--MICHELANGELO AS POET AND
MAN OF FEELING.

XIII. MICHELANGELO APPOINTED ARCHITECT-IN-CHIEF AT THE
VATICAN--HISTORY OF S. PETER'S. 1542-1557.

XIV. LAST YEARS OF LIFE--MICHELANGELO'S PORTRAITS--ILLNESS OF OLD
AGE. 1557-1564.

XV. DEATH AT ROME--BURIAL AND OBSEQUIES AT
FLORENCE--ANECDOTES--ESTIMATE OF MICHELANGELO AS MAN AND ARTIST.

THE LIFE OF MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI

CHAPTER I

I

The Buonarroti Simoni, to whom Michelangelo belonged, were a
Florentine family of ancient burgher nobility. Their arms appear to
have been originally "azure two bends or." To this coat was added "a
label of four points gules inclosing three fleur-de-lys or." That
augmentation, adopted from the shield of Charles of Anjou, occurs upon
the scutcheons of many Guelf houses and cities. In the case of the
Florentine Simoni, it may be ascribed to the period when Buonarrota di
Simone Simoni held office as a captain of the Guelf party (1392).
Such, then, was the paternal coat borne by the subject of this Memoir.
His brother Buonarroto received a further augmentation in 1515 from
Leo X., to wit: "upon a chief or, a pellet azure charged with
fleur-de-lys or, between the capital letters L. and X." At the same
time he was created Count Palatine. The old and simple bearing of the
two bends was then crowded down into the extreme base of the shield,
while the Angevine label found room beneath the chief.

According to a vague tradition, the Simoni drew their blood from the
high and puissant Counts of Canossa. Michelangelo himself believed in
this pedigree, for which there is, however, no foundation in fact, and
no heraldic corroboration. According to his friend and biographer
Condivi, the sculptor's first Florentine ancestor was a Messer Simone
dei Conti di Canossa, who came in 1250 as Podesta to Florence. "The
eminent qualities of this man gained for him admission into the
burghership of the city, and he was appointed captain of a Sestiere;
for Florence in those days was divided into Sestieri, instead of
Quartieri, as according to the present usage." Michelangelo's
contemporary, the Count Alessandro da Canossa, acknowledged this
relationship. Writing on the 9th of October 1520, he addresses the
then famous sculptor as "honoured kinsman," and gives the following
piece of information: "Turning over my old papers, I have discovered
that a Messere Simone da Canossa was Podesta of Florence, as I have
already mentioned to the above-named Giovanni da Reggio."
Nevertheless, it appears now certain that no Simone da Canossa held
the office of Podesta at Florence in the thirteenth century. The
family can be traced up to one Bernardo, who died before the year
1228. His grandson was called Buonarrota, and the fourth in descent
was Simone. These names recur frequently in the next generations.
Michelangelo always addressed his father as "Lodovico di Lionardo di
Buonarrota Simoni," or "Louis, the son of Leonard, son of Buonarrota
Simoni;" and he used the family surname of Simoni in writing to his
brothers and his nephew Lionardo. Yet he preferred to call himself
Michelangelo Buonarroti; and after his lifetime Buonarroti became
fixed for the posterity of his younger brother. "The reason," says
Condivi, "why the family in Florence changed its name from Canossa to
Buonarroti was this: Buonarroto continued for many generations to be
repeated in their house, down to the time of Michelangelo, who had a
brother of that name; and inasmuch as several of these Buonarroti held
rank in the supreme magistracy of the republic, especially the brother
I have just mentioned, who filled the office of Prior during Pope
Leo's visit to Florence, as may be read in the annals of that city,
this baptismal name, by force of frequent repetition, became the
cognomen of the whole family; the more easily, because it is the
custom at Florence, in elections and nominations of officers, to add
the Christian names of the father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and
sometimes even of remoter ancestors, to that of each citizen.
Consequently, through the many Buonarroti who followed one another,
and from the Simone who was the first founder of the house in
Florence, they gradually came to be called Buonarroti Simoni, which is
their present designation." Excluding the legend about Simone da
Canossa, this is a pretty accurate account of what really happened.
Italian patronymics were formed indeed upon the same rule as those of
many Norman families in Great Britain. When the use of Di and Fitz
expired, Simoni survived from Di Simone, as did my surname Symonds
from Fitz-Symond.

On the 6th of March 1475, according to our present computation,
Lodovico di Lionardo Buonarroti Simoni wrote as follows in his private
notebook: "I record that on this day, March 6, 1474, a male child was
born to me. I gave him the name of Michelangelo, and he was born on a
Monday morning four or five hours before daybreak, and he was born
while I was Podesta of Caprese, and he was born at Caprese; and the
godfathers were those I have named below. He was baptized on the
eighth of the same month in the Church of San Giovanni at Caprese.
These are the godfathers:--

DON DANIELLO DI SER BUONAGUIDA of Florence,
Rector of San Giovanni at Caprese;
DON ANDREA DI .... of Poppi, Rector of the Abbey
of Diasiano (_i.e._, Dicciano);
JACOPO DI FRANCESCO of Casurio (?);
MARCO DI GIORGIO of Caprese;
GIOVANNI DI BIAGIO of Caprese;
ANDREA DI BIAGIO of Caprese;
FRANCESCO DI JACOPO DEL ANDUINO (?) of Caprese;
SER BARTOLOMMEO DI SANTI DEL LANSE (?), Notary."

Note that the date is March 6, 1474, according to Florentine usage _ab
incarnatione_, and according to the Roman usage, _a nativitate_, it is
1475.

Vasari tells us that the planets were propitious at the moment of
Michelangelo's nativity: "Mercury and Venus having entered with benign
aspect into the house of Jupiter, which indicated that marvellous and
extraordinary works, both of manual art and intellect, were to be
expected from him."

II

Caprese, from its beauty and remoteness, deserved to be the birthplace
of a great artist. It is not improbable that Lodovico Buonarroti and
his wife Francesca approached it from Pontassieve in Valdarno,
crossing the little pass of Consuma, descending on the famous
battle-field of Campaldino, and skirting the ancient castle of the
Conti Guidi at Poppi. Every step in the romantic journey leads over
ground hallowed by old historic memories. From Poppi the road descends
the Arno to a richly cultivated district, out of which emerges on its
hill the prosperous little town of Bibbiena. High up to eastward
springs the broken crest of La Vernia, a mass of hard millstone rock
(_macigno_) jutting from desolate beds of lime and shale at the height
of some 3500 feet above the sea. It was here, among the sombre groves
of beech and pine which wave along the ridge, that S. Francis came to
found his infant Order, composed the Hymn to the Sun, and received the
supreme honour of the stigmata. To this point Dante retired when the
death of Henry VII. extinguished his last hopes for Italy. At one
extremity of the wedge-like block which forms La Vernia, exactly on
the watershed between Arno and Tiber, stands the ruined castle of
Chiusi in Casentino. This was one of the two chief places of Lodovico
Buonarroti's podesteria. It may be said to crown the valley of the
Arno; for the waters gathered here flow downwards toward Arezzo, and
eventually wash the city walls of Florence. A few steps farther,
travelling south, we pass into the valley of the Tiber, and, after
traversing a barren upland region for a couple of hours, reach the
verge of the descent upon Caprese. Here the landscape assumes a softer
character. Far away stretch blue Apennines, ridge melting into ridge
above Perugia in the distance. Gigantic oaks begin to clothe the stony
hillsides, and little by little a fertile mountain district of
chestnut-woods and vineyards expands before our eyes, equal in charm
to those aerial hills and vales above Pontremoli. Caprese has no
central commune or head-village. It is an aggregate of scattered
hamlets and farmhouses, deeply embosomed in a sea of greenery. Where
the valley contracts and the infant Tiber breaks into a gorge, rises a
wooded rock crowned with the ruins of an ancient castle. It was here,
then, that Michelangelo first saw the light. When we discover that he
was a man of more than usually nervous temperament, very different in
quality from any of his relatives, we must not forget what a fatiguing
journey had been performed by his mother, who was then awaiting her
delivery. Even supposing that Lodovico Buonarroti travelled from
Florence by Arezzo to Caprese, many miles of rough mountain-roads must
have been traversed by her on horseback.

III

Ludovico, who, as we have seen, was Podesta of Caprese and of Chiusi
in the Casentino, had already one son by his first wife, Francesca,
the daughter of Neri di Miniato del Sera and Bonda Rucellai. This
elder brother, Lionardo, grew to manhood, and become a devoted
follower of Savonarola. Under the influence of the Ferrarese friar, he
determined to abjure the world, and entered the Dominican Order in
1491. We know very little about him, and he is only once mentioned in
Michelangelo's correspondence. Even this reference cannot be
considered certain. Writing to his father from Rome, July 1, 1497,
Michelangelo says: "I let you know that Fra Lionardo returned hither
to Rome. He says that he was forced to fly from Viterbo, and that his
frock had been taken from him, wherefore he wished to go there
(_i.e._, to Florence). So I gave him a golden ducat, which he asked
for; and I think you ought already to have learned this, for he should
be there by this time." When Lionardo died is uncertain. We only know
that he was in the convent of S. Mark at Florence in the year 1510.
Owing to this brother's adoption of the religious life, Michelangelo
became, early in his youth, the eldest son of Lodovico's family. It
will be seen that during the whole course of his long career he acted
as the mainstay of his father, and as father to his younger brothers.
The strength and the tenacity of his domestic affections are very
remarkable in a man who seems never to have thought of marrying.
"Art," he used to say, "is a sufficiently exacting mistress." Instead
of seeking to beget children for his own solace, he devoted himself to
the interests of his kinsmen.

The office of Podesta lasted only six months, and at the expiration of
this term Lodovico returned to Florence. He put the infant
Michelangelo out to nurse in the village of Settignano, where the
Buonarroti Simoni owned a farm. Most of the people of that district
gained their livelihood in the stone-quarries around Settignano and
Maiano on the hillside of Fiesole. Michelangelo's foster-mother was
the daughter and the wife of stone-cutters. "George," said he in
after-years to his friend Vasari, "if I possess anything of good in my
mental constitution, it comes from my having been born in your keen
climate of Arezzo; just as I drew the chisel and the mallet with which
I carve statues in together with my nurse's milk."

When Michelangelo was of age to go to school, his father put him under
a grammarian at Florence named Francesco da Urbino. It does not
appear, however, that he learned more than reading and writing in
Italian, for later on in life we find him complaining that he knew no
Latin. The boy's genius attracted him irresistibly to art. He spent
all his leisure time in drawing, and frequented the society of youths
who were apprenticed to masters in painting and sculpture. Among these
he contracted an intimate friendship with Francesco Granacci, at that
time in the workshop of Domenico Ghirlandajo. Granacci used to lend
him drawings by Ghirlandajo, and inspired him with the resolution to
become a practical artist. Condivi says that "Francesco's influence,
combined with the continual craving of his nature, made him at last
abandon literary studies. This brought the boy into disfavour with his
father and uncles, who often used to beat him severely; for, being
insensible to the excellence and nobility of Art, they thought it
shameful to give her shelter in their house. Nevertheless, albeit
their opposition caused him the greatest sorrow, it was not sufficient
to deter him from his steady purpose. On the contrary, growing even
bolder he determined to work in colours." Condivi, whose narrative
preserves for us Michelangelo's own recollections of his youthful
years, refers to this period the painted copy made by the young
draughtsman from a copper-plate of Martin Schoengauer. We should
probably be right in supposing that the anecdote is slightly
antedated. I give it, however, as nearly as possible in the
biographer's own words. "Granacci happened to show him a print of S.
Antonio tormented by the devils. This was the work of Martino
d'Olanda, a good artist for the times in which he lived; and
Michelangelo transferred the composition to a panel. Assisted by the
same friend with colours and brushes, he treated his subject in so
masterly a way that it excited surprise in all who saw it, and even
envy, as some say, in Domenico, the greatest painter of his age. In
order to diminish the extraordinary impression produced by this
picture, Ghirlandajo went about saying that it came out of his own
workshop, as though he had some part in the performance. While engaged
on this piece, which, beside the figure of the saint, contained many
strange forms and diabolical monstrosities, Michelangelo coloured no
particular without going first to Nature and comparing her truth with
his fancies. Thus he used to frequent the fish-market, and study the
shape and hues of fishes' fins, the colour of their eyes, and so forth
in the case of every part belonging to them; all of which details he
reproduced with the utmost diligence in his painting." Whether this
transcript from Schoengauer was made as early as Condivi reports may,
as I have said, be reasonably doubted. The anecdote is interesting,
however, as showing in what a naturalistic spirit Michelangelo began
to work. The unlimited mastery which he acquired over form, and which
certainly seduced him at the close of his career into a stylistic
mannerism, was based in the first instance upon profound and patient
interrogation of reality.

IV

Lodovico perceived at length that it was useless to oppose his son's
natural bent. Accordingly, he sent him into Ghirlandajo's workshop. A
minute from Ghirlandajo's ledger, under the date 1488, gives
information regarding the terms of the apprenticeship. "I record this
first of April how I, Lodovico di Lionardo di Buonarrota, bind my son
Michelangelo to Domenico and Davit di Tommaso di Currado for the next
three ensuing years, under these conditions and contracts: to wit,
that the said Michelangelo shall stay with the above-named masters
during this time, to learn the art of painting, and to practise the
same, and to be at the orders of the above-named; and they, for their
part, shall give to him in the course of these three years twenty-four
florins (_fiorini di suggello_): to wit, six florins in the first
year, eight in the second, ten in the third; making in all the sum of
ninety-six pounds (_lire_)." A postscript, dated April 16th of the
same year, 1488, records that two florins were paid to Michelangelo
upon that day.

It seems that Michelangelo retained no very pleasant memory of his
sojourn with the Ghirlandajo brothers. Condivi, in the passage
translated above, hints that Domenico was jealous of him. He proceeds
as follows: "This jealousy betrayed itself still more when
Michelangelo once begged the loan of a certain sketch-book, wherein
Domenico had portrayed shepherds with their flocks and watchdogs,
landscapes, buildings, ruins, and such-like things. The master refused
to lend it; and indeed he had the fame of being somewhat envious; for
not only showed he thus scant courtesy toward Michelangelo, but he
also treated his brother likewise, sending him into France when he saw
that he was making progress and putting forth great promise; and doing
this not so much for any profit to David, as that he might himself
remain the first of Florentine painters. I have thought fit to mention
these things, because I have been told that Domenico's son is wont to
ascribe the genius and divinity of Michelangelo in great part to his
father's teaching, whereas the truth is that he received no assistance
from that master. I ought, however, to add that Michelangelo does not
complain: on the contrary, he praises Domenico both as artist and as
man."

This passage irritated Vasari beyond measure. He had written his first
Life of Michelangelo in 1550. Condivi published his own modest
biography in 1553, with the expressed intention of correcting errors
and supplying deficiencies made by "others," under which vague word he
pointed probably at Vasari. Michelangelo, who furnished Condivi with
materials, died in 1564; and Vasari, in 1568, issued a second enlarged
edition of the Life, into which he cynically incorporated what he
chose to steal from Condivi's sources. The supreme Florentine sculptor
being dead and buried, Vasari felt that he was safe in giving the lie
direct to this humble rival biographer. Accordingly, he spoke as
follows about Michelangelo's relations with Domenico Ghirlandajo: "He
was fourteen years of age when he entered that master's service, and
inasmuch as one (Condivi), who composed his biography after 1550, when
I had published these Lives for the first time, declares that certain
persons, from want of familiarity with Michelangelo, have recorded
things that did not happen, and have omitted others worthy of
relation; and in particular has touched upon the point at issue,
accusing Domenico of envy, and saying that he never rendered
Michelangelo assistance."--Here Vasari, out of breath with
indignation, appeals to the record of Lodovico's contract with the
Ghirlandajo brothers. "These minutes," he goes on to say, "I copied
from the ledger, in order to show that everything I formerly
published, or which will be published at the present time, is truth.
Nor am I acquainted with any one who had greater familiarity with
Michelangelo than I had, or who served him more faithfully in friendly
offices; nor do I believe that a single man could exhibit a larger
number of letters written with his own hand, or evincing greater
personal affection, than I can."

This contention between Condivi and Vasari, our two contemporary
authorities upon the facts of Michelangelo's life, may not seem to be
a matter of great moment for his biographer after the lapse of four
centuries. Yet the first steps in the art-career of so exceptional a
genius possess peculiar interest. It is not insignificant to
ascertain, so far as now is possible, what Michelangelo owed to his
teachers. In equity, we acknowledge that Lodovico's record on the
ledger of the Ghirlandajo brothers proves their willingness to take
him as a prentice, and their payment to him of two florins in advance;
but the same record does not disprove Condivi's statement, derived
from his old master's reminiscences, to the effect that Domenico
Ghirlandajo was in no way greatly serviceable to him as an instructor.
The fault, in all probability, did not lie with Ghirlandajo alone.
Michelangelo, as we shall have occasions in plenty to observe, was
difficult to live with; frank in speech to the point of rudeness,
ready with criticism, incapable of governing his temper, and at no
time apt to work harmoniously with fellow-craftsmen. His extraordinary
force and originality of genius made themselves felt, undoubtedly, at
the very outset of his career; and Ghirlandajo may be excused if,
without being positively jealous of the young eagle settled in his
homely nest, he failed to do the utmost for this gifted and
rough-natured child of promise. Beethoven's discontent with Haydn as a
teacher offers a parallel; and sympathetic students of psychology will
perceive that Ghirlandajo and Haydn were almost superfluous in the
training of phenomenal natures like Michelangelo and Beethoven.

Vasari, passing from controversy to the gossip of the studio, has
sketched a pleasant picture of the young Buonarroti in his master's
employ. "The artistic and personal qualities of Michelangelo developed
so rapidly that Domenico was astounded by signs of power in him beyond
the ordinary scope of youth. He perceived, in short, that he not only
surpassed the other students, of whom Ghirlandajo had a large number
under his tuition, but also that he often competed on an equality with
the master. One of the lads who worked there made a pen-drawing of
some women, clothed, from a design of Ghirlandajo. Michelangelo took
up the paper, and with a broader nib corrected the outline of a female
figure, so as to bring it into perfect truth to life. Wonderful it was
to see the difference of the two styles, and to note the judgment and
ability of a mere boy, so spirited and bold, who had the courage to
chastise his master's handiwork! This drawing I now preserve as a
precious relique, since it was given me by Granacci, that it might
take a place in my Book of Original Designs, together with others
presented to me by Michelangelo. In the year 1550, when I was in Rome,
I Giorgio showed it to Michelangelo, who recognised it immediately,
and was pleased to see it again, observing modestly that he knew more
about the art when he was a child than now in his old age.

"It happened then that Domenico was engaged upon the great Chapel of
S. Maria Novella; and being absent one day, Michelangelo set himself
to draw from nature the whole scaffolding, with some easels and all
the appurtenances of the art, and a few of the young men at work
there. When Domenico returned and saw the drawing, he exclaimed: 'This
fellow knows more about it than I do,' and remained quite stupefied by
the new style and the new method of imitation, which a boy of years so
tender had received as a gift from heaven."

Both Condivi and Vasari relate that, during his apprenticeship to
Ghirlandajo, Michelangelo demonstrated his technical ability by
producing perfect copies of ancient drawings, executing the facsimile
with consummate truth of line, and then dirtying the paper so as to
pass it off as the original of some old master. "His only object,"
adds Vasari, "was to keep the originals, by giving copies in exchange;
seeing that he admired them as specimens of art, and sought to surpass
them by his own handling; and in doing this he acquired great renown."
We may pause to doubt whether at the present time--in the case, for
instance, of Shelley letters or Rossetti drawings--clever forgeries
would be accepted as so virtuous and laudable. But it ought to be
remembered that a Florentine workshop at that period contained masses
of accumulated designs, all of which were more or less the common
property of the painting firm. No single specimen possessed a high
market value. It was, in fact, only when art began to expire in Italy,
when Vasari published his extensive necrology and formed his famous
collection of drawings, that property in a sketch became a topic for
moral casuistry.

Of Michelangelo's own work at this early period we possess probably
nothing except a rough scrawl on the plaster of a wall at Settignano.
Even this does not exist in its original state. The Satyr which is
still shown there may, according to Mr. Heath Wilson's suggestion, be
a _rifacimento_ from the master's hand at a subsequent period of his
career.