Salamander in Chief

Visitors to François I's chateaux may be surprised to find the castles overrun,

not with tourists,

or school groups,

or preservationists, or

historical re-enactors,

but with...

SALAMANDERS!

Photo by Alain Dutrevis.

Chambord, for example, has more than eight hundred different types of salamanders carved into the ceiling of the main hall. The François I wing at Blois has eleven salamanders sculpted in high relief across the façade. The grande galerie at Fontainebleau features salamanders carved upon the gilded wainscoting, modeled in stucco atop picture frames, and incised into the backs of chairs. A salamander even decorates the forehead of the gallery's famous elephant (see the photograph a few posts back). Salamanders adorn fireplaces in many of the palaces. The salamanders on François's buildings recline on a bed of fire or spew forth flames from their mouths.

If you aren't aware of the rich symbolism surrounding the salamander, stretching back to the writings of Pliny and Aristotle, you might assume François was a closet herpetologist. The ancients erroneously believed that the salamander had the ability to live in fire without being consumed and to extinguish flames with the coldness of their bodies. Capitalizing on this tradition, François coupled a picture of the salamander in flames with the short motto "Nutrisco et extinguo," "I nourish and I extinguish," to create his official emblem.

Photo by Myrabella.

This emblem can be read as a symbol of virtue that conquers the fires of passion or of strength that triumphs over the vicissitudes of circumstance. For the Neoplatonists of the late fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, fire was considered both good and bad; it ignited believers even as it consumed the damned. Read in this light, the emblem describes a king nourished by the "good fire" of faith, peace and love, who strives to extinguish the "bad fire" of injustice, greed and disordered passions.

François applied the badge to the buildings he constructed or modified; members of the nobility often applied the salamander to their own homes to date construction undertaken during François's reign. On royal edifices, the salamander sports a crown, or a crown floats above the badge; on non-royal houses, the beast's head is bare.

Salamanders appear not only on buildings, but on many royal possessions. Salamanders were tooled into the leather covers of books bound for the royal library. A perfume-burner designed by Raphael for the king had salamanders and fleurs-de-lis on the lid. The creatures were embroidered on royal livery; at the Field of the Cloth of Gold, the king's guard were clothed in blue and yellow emblazoned with salamanders. A culverin captured captured by the Ottomans at the Siege of Rhodes in 1522 had a crowned salamander cast on its barrel.

Photo by PHGCOM.

Interestingly enough, the myth of the salamander surviving through fire may have some basis in fact. Salamanders often hibernate in logs; when the logs are put on the fire, the creatures mysteriously "appear" in the flames. The artist Cellini tells the story of witnessing this very event as a child:

When I was about five years old my father happened to be in a basement-chamber of our house, where they had been washing, and where a good fire of oak-logs was still burning; he had a viol in his hand, and was playing and singing alone beside the fire. The weather was very cold. Happening to look into the fire, he spied in the middle of those most burning flames a little creature like a lizard, which was sporting in the core of the intensest coals. Becoming instantly aware of what the thing was, he had my sister and me called, and pointing it out to us children, gave me a great box on the ears, which caused me to howl and weep with all my might. Then he pacified me good-humouredly, and spoke as follows: “My dear little boy, I am not striking you for any wrong that you have done, but only to make you remember that that lizard which you see in the fire is a salamander, a creature which has never been seen before by any one of whom we have credible information.” So saying, he kissed me and gave me some pieces of money. [Autobiography (1566), Ch.4, translated by John Addington Symonds; Project Gutenberg]

With clever flair, François I left his mark on the architectural and cultural achievements of his reign. Even today, the department of Loir-et-Cher, which covers the traditional provinces of Orléans and Touraine where many of François's châteaux stand, proudly displays a salamander on its flag.

No need to call in an exterminator. Good thing, for salamanders are pretty indestructible.

[Sources:

R.J. Knecht, Renaissance Warrior and Patron (1994)

F. M. Simpson, A History of Architectural Development (1913)

W.L. Wiley, The Gentlemen of Renaissance France (1954)]

Sixteenth Century Quote of the Week

"Humility does not disturb or disquiet, however great it may be; it comes with peace, delight and calm. . . .The pain of genuine humility doesn't agitate or afflict the soul; rather, this humility expands it and enables it to serve God more."

Teresa of Avila (1515-1582), Spanish nun, writer and saint

The Way of Perfection (1566), Chapter 39, Section 2

Translated by Kieran Kavanaugh and Otilio Rodriguez

Illuminated Manuscript Collection for Sale

Another item to spend your spare change on: an illuminated Book of Hours created for the personal use of François I, included in a collection of manuscripts Christie's will be offering for sale this July.

The BBC article about the sale features a photograph of the prayerbook. Although I can't zoom in close or clearly enough to be sure, it looks as though the kneeling man might be a portrait of François himself. In any case, the photograph gives a wonderful view of the intricate artistry of the illumination, as well as the size of the book in relation to the man's hands. The book is expected to sell for about $1,000,000 (500,000 pounds).

Other works in the collection can be viewed here, here, and here. The squirrel on the stand [scroll to the middle set of photos] is precious (although one feels a bit sad for the poor creature).

I must admit that seeing exquisite manuscripts like these make me rue the advent of the printing press just a bit.

Catherine Delors: For the King trailer

My friend and fellow historical novelist Catherine Delors, author of the acclaimed Mistress of the Revolution, has a new book coming out this July : For the King, a thriller set in Napoleonic Paris. Catherine just posted the link to a marvelous trailer for the new novel. Go watch, and be sure to mark your calendars for the release of For the King on July 8, 2010!

Sixteenth Century Quote of the Week

"How praiseworthy it is for a prince to keep his word and live by honesty and not deceit, everyone knows; nevertheless we see, by what goes on in our own times, that those princes who have accomplished great things are the ones who had cared little for keeping promises and who knew how to manipulate the minds of men with shrewdness; and in the end they won out over those who founded themselves on loyalty."

-- Niccolò Machiavelli (1469-1527), Italian philosopher and writer

The Prince (1532)

Ch. XVIII, "How a Prince Should Keep His Word"

Translated by Mark Musa.

Fifteen Minutes to Spare

The sale of the Vasari documents which I related here was called off fifteen minutes before the auction was scheduled to begin. Lawyers for the owner obstructed the sale, claiming the papers were being sold too cheaply. A judge must now decide whether a higher starting price is justified. More details here from the BBC.

Note: If you're thinking of bidding, Italy's culture minister has ordered that the papers cannot be removed from Vasari's former home in Tuscany. So maybe you'd better plan on buying the house, too!

Sixteenth Century Quote of the Week

"Tu es miserable si par ta seule paincture tu attire a toy mary ou autre, quant le fard sera passe, comme luy pourras tu complaire?"

"You are unfortunate if solely by your make-up you attract yourself a husband or anyone else, for when the paint wears off, how can you please him?"

Juan Luis Vives, Spanish humanist and philosopher (1492-1540)

Livre tres bon plaisant et salutaire de L'institution de la femme chrestienne, tant en son enfance, que mariage & viduite

[A very pleasing and salutary book on the education of the Christian woman, in her childhood as well and marriage and widowhood].

Translated into French by Pierre de Changy, 1543.

[Translation mine.]

Excerpt: The Nose of a King

From my work-in-progress:

We had almost reached the end of the gallery when the king pulled to a stop so suddenly I almost bumped into him. “And here we are. Mademoiselle, your elephant.”

I followed the sweep of his arm. Above my head in the second to the last bay loomed a most fantastical creature. It towered over the human figures in the painting, filling almost half the frame with its bulk. Its round body perched on four straight legs, thick as marble columns. From its head, which seemed too small for a creature of that size, drooped a long, rope-like nose that brushed the ground—the trunk, my father used to call it in his fantastical stories. Two sharp horns, longer than a man’s arm, pierced the face at the base of this trunk; large ears, limp as linen sheets, hung on either side of the face like a wimple. The one visible eye, a mere slit in the gray-white skin, seemed fixed on some inner vista, as if the creature, accustomed to the astounded gazes of onlookers, tolerated the assault with a detachment born of long experience. A gold-tooled caparison, decorated with fleurs-de-lis and a monogrammed “F”, covered the elephant’s back; strapped to its broad brow, a medal portraying the likeness of a salamander sprouted three plumes that curled about the giant’s head like a crown. Symbols representing the elements lay at the creature’s feet: the world subject to its imposing authority.

“The elephant, figure of wisdom and royalty. I’d like to believe the likeness rests in the sagacity of our gazes, but I suspect it has more to do with the length of our noses.” The king formed his thumb and forefinger into an L and fit it to the center of his face.

“Magnificent,” I breathed, hardly believing such an animal existed.

The king burst out laughing. “My nose or the elephant? Your candor refreshes like a cooling draught, mademoiselle.” The pealing of the chapel bell interrupted him, and he frowned as he counted the hour. “I’d intended to watch you work, but I’ve spent far too much time talking as it is. I have greatly enjoyed your company, and must chide your father for hiding you away.”

I dropped a low curtsey, my tongue tripping over itself as I attempted to thank him for the singular favor of this visit.

“Only the first of many,” he promised, extending a hand to help me rise, “provided you tame the elephant. Leave the sketch on the table on your way out.” With a wink, he turned and headed for the far door. The splendor of the gallery seemed to fade with each of his steps as he passed back through it.

(Copyright 2010)

[Photograph: Rosso Fiorentino, The Elephant (1536-39). Fresco and stucco. Fontainebleau: Galerie François I. A short description of the painting may be read at the château's website.]

Vasari Correspondence for Sale

Anyone with a few million Euros to spare, don't miss the auction that will be taking place this week in the Tuscan city of Arezzo.

As The Guardian reports, the archive of artist Georgio Vasari (1511-1574), who chronicled the lives of Renaissance painters and sculptors in his book Lives of the Artists, will be auctioned off by his hometown. The cache of letters includes 17 from Vasari's friend Michelangelo, as well as letters from five Renaissance popes and Cosimo I de' Medici, the ruler of Florence. Government debt collectors are selling the archive in order to raise money to cover taxes owed by the noble family that has owned the collection for generations. The bidding will start at a mere 2.6 million Euros.

I first became familiar with Vasari's work when I began researching the life of Rosso Fiorentino, the Florentine artist who came to France at François I's behest to decorate the palace of Fontainebleau. Rosso is one of the 130-odd artists whose lives are described in Vasari's Le Vite de' piú eccellenti pittori, scultore et architetti, first published in 1550 (English translation here). An accomplished artist and architect himself, Vasari trained with or befriended many Florentine artists, among them Andrea del Sarto, Rosso, Jacopo Pontormo, and Michelangelo. His book, dedicated to Cosimo de' Medici, presents short biographies of the artists working in Italy, mostly in and around Florence, in the sixteenth century. These biographies are amusing mixtures of fact, personal anecdote, and pure gossip. The book includes a treatise on the technical methods of the times and is considered a classic work of art history.

Rosso's biography, for example, includes an anecdote about his pet monkey stealing grapes from a monastery, a description of the artist's ill-treatment at the hands of the Germans during the sack of Rome in 1527, and speculation about his apparent guilt-induced suicide in 1541...all of which is finding its way into my novel in some form or another. I owe Vasari a great deal, especially for animating his portrait of Rosso with enough personal detail to bring the artist's personality to life, yet leaving enough room for fictional elaboration.

Vasari's hometown of Arezzo will be celebrating the 500th anniversary of the chronicler's birthday next year. I certainly hope the Italian heritage minister, who will be competing in the week's auction, will be able to purchase the documents and keep this important part of Italy's artistic heritage in the country.

Sixteenth Century Quote of the Week

"[I]l est assez, voyre trop de volumes

Tant d'imprimez que d'escriptz par les

plumes,

Et que plus font de livres que lecteurs,

Plus de lecteurs, que vertueux facteurs,

Plus d'escripvains & plus de bien disantz,

Que d'auditeurs & que de bien faisantz,

Cella pensant ma main qui estoit preste

Pour commencer à escrire, s'arreste..."

"There are enough, nay, too many tomes

Printed as well as penned by quill,

There are more books than readers,

More readers than virtuous makers,

More writers and silver-tongued speakers

Than listeners and doers of good.

Thinking this, my hand which was ready

To begin to write, stopped..."

Gilles Corrozet (1510-1568), writer and publisher

Hécatonographie (1543)

[Translation mine]

Henry IV at the Newberry

Thanks to author Lucy Pick for word about another French Renaissance exhibit, this one at Chicago's Newberry Library. "Henry IV of France: The Vert Galant and His Reign" will run from Tuesday, May 4 to July 5, 2010. The exhibit, which marks the 4ooth anniversary of Henry's assassination, highlights the monarch's cultural and political accomplishments and includes facsimiles of letters, a manual of horsemanship, and pamphlets on the end of the war between France and Spain and the founding of the colony of Québec. You can register for a concurrent six-session seminar about Henry and his times.

Visit the exhibit's Facebook page to learn more.

Sixteenth Century Quote of the Week

"For at this point too I [Folly] think I should copy the rhetoricians of today who fancy themselves practically gods on earth if they can show themselves twin-tongued, like horse leeches, and think it a splendid feat if they can work a few silly little Greek words, like pieces of mosaic, into their Latin speeches, however out of place these are. Then, if they still need something out of the ordinary, they dig four or five obsolete words out of mouldy manuscripts with which to cloud the meaning for the reader. The idea is, I suppose, that those who can understand are better pleased with themselves, and those who can't are all the more lost in admiration the less they understand."

Desiderius Erasmus (1466-1536), Dutch scholar and humanist

Praise of Folly (1509)

Translated by Betty Radice

Exhibit: "An Earthly Paradise": The Art of Living at the French Renaissance Court

An amazing exhibition of art and rare books specific to the French Renaissance has just come to my attention. Cornell University's Herbert F. Johnson Museum of Art is hosting 'An Earthly Paradise': The Art of Living at the French Renaissance Court from January 16 until April 18, 2010. The exhibit brings together Renaissance holdings that reflect "the magnificence of the French royal court and the rise of that strange animal, the courtier." It treats five themes: "Importing Italian Culture," "Warriors and Patrons: The Valois Kings as Patrons," "Diana/Diane," "Ideal Courtiers, Real Courtiers," "An 'Earthly Paradise'?" The website includes a gallery that displays and explains five or six items included under each theme--the photos and write-ups are excellent. Explore the website--it's almost as good as being there! If anyone does get a chance to catch the exhibit in person, please come back and give us your impressions. I certainly wish I could attend.

[Of particular interest to me, in the context of my current novel, were the Cornelius Bos engraving of Michelango's Leda and the Swan, portraits of François and Marguerite, and du Cerceau's engraving of Fontainebleau.]

La mye du roi: Françoise de Foix

Way back when, I set out to do a series of posts on the women in François I's life. I wrote about his mother, Louise de Savoye; his sister, Marguerite de Navarre; his first wife Queen Claude; his second mistress, Anne d'Heilly, Madame d'Étampes. With Valentine's Day just past, I've decided to get back on track and introduce Françoise de Foix, the king's first maîtresse en titre, or official mistress, a woman whose life has engendered many a romantic legend.

Born in 1495 in Brittany, Françoise de Foix was second cousin to the reigning queen of France, Anne de Bretagne, and spent much of her youth at Anne's court. A well-educated, dark-haired beauty, she captured the heart of nineteen year old Jean de Laval, Seigneur de Châteaubriant, when she was only eleven. The queen provided a dowry for her impoverished cousin, and Françoise and Jean, who possessed one of greatest fortunes in Brittany, were formally affianced in 1505. But in a move highly unusual for the time, Jean took Françoise to live with him at Châteaubriant before the marriage ceremony took place. The couple lived in this irregular union for more than two years, celebrating the birth of a daughter in 1507 before officially marrying in 1509.

Head over heels in love (so the story goes), Jean and Françoise kept to their secluded manor house in Brittany. Being of a rather possessive and even violent temperament, Jean resisted, for as long as possible, pressure to bring Françoise to the court of the new king, François I. Intrigued by rumors of Françoise's beauty and learning, the king summoned the couple in 1516 and appointed Françoise lady-in-waiting to his wife, Queen Claude. Enamored of the Breton beauty who dared resist him, François showered favors on her family. He made her husband commander of a royal company, elevated two of her brothers to high military positions, and appointed her eldest brother governor of the newly reconquered duchy of Milan. Françoise finally succumbed to his blandishments and became la mye du roi, the king's "sweetheart," around 1518. She and Jean de Laval assisted at the baptism of the dauphin in 1519, with Françoise occupying a place of honor near the royal princesses. Cuckolded Jean, generously rewarded for his compliance, returned home to Bretagne in 1520, leaving Françoise behind to reign supreme over François's heart and court.

During her ten-year reign as François's official mistress, Françoise wielded an influence more cultural than political. Madame de Châteaubriant set the bar for elegance in dress at court. As early as July, 1516, her style made such a splash that a description of one of her gowns made its way into a diplomatic letter to Isabella d'Este:

That Sunday, the king threw a banquet and feast and had fourteen ladies dressed in the Italian manner, with rich garments that his Majesty brought from Italy. Twelve of the ladies were in the queen's service and two in the service of Madame de Bourbon; among those of the queen was Mademoiselle de Châteaubriant, Monsieur de Lautrec's sister, dressed in a gown of dark crimson velvet embroidered all over with gold chains bearing silver plaquettes well placed within the chains, on which were inscribed devices.

Françoise accompanied the king to the sumptuous Field of Cloth of Gold summit in 1520 where he met, feasted, and wrestled with Henry VIII of England. One source claims she encouraged François to spend extravagantly on tents and livery and spectacles for the affair, incensing his frugal royal mother, Louise de Savoye.

Louise resented Françoise's dominion over her son and ever searched for a way to dislodge her from François's affections. The king's captivity in Spain from 1525-26 provided the perfect opportunity. Louise managed to prevent Françoise from accompanying the court to Bayonne to welcome the king upon his return and encouraged François to take up with the much younger and, in her opinion, more biddable, Anne d'Heilly in Françoise's absence. Newly sprung from monk-like captivity, François was only too happy to oblige. For the next two years, Anne and Françoise competed for the king's affections, amusing the court with their very public squabbles. François eventually tired of the drama and informed Françoise he was relegating her to second place. Unable to accept this loss of stature, she left court in 1528 to return to her husband's manor in Brittany. When a triumphant Anne d'Heilly demanded the return of the jewelry François had given her, Françoise complied by melting down the gold and returning it to the king in the form of ingots. The mottos that had adorned the jewelry were too precious for anyone else to wear, she claimed, so now they were engraved solely in her heart. Impressed by her moxy, François allowed her to keep the gold.

Despite their separation, Françoise and the king continued to correspond well into the next decade. François appointed her husband governor of Brittany and visited the couple several times at their home. Françoise's sudden death from illness in 1537 gave rise to speculation that a vengeful Jean had men disguised as doctors slit her veins and allow her to bleed to death. (Legend has it that each year at midnight on the anniversary of her death, she appears in her chamber, hand-in-hand with the king; behind them a band of demons leads Jean de Laval in chains.) Whether through guilt or love or simple duty, Jean erected an elaborate tomb for his errant wife in the church of the Trinitarians in Châteaubriant. Clément Marot, witness to her glory at court, inscribed the epitaph:

"Here lies a nothing, that once triumphed over all" -- one final, enduring motto for the king's sweetheart, Françoise de Foix.

[Sources: R. Knecht, Renaissance Warrior and Patron; Françoise de Foix]

Sixteenth Century Quote of the Week

"The king [François I] is more than ever addicted to his lascivious pleasures, being totally in the power of Madame d'Étampes, who, in order to appear wise always contradicts others and lets the king believe that he is God on earth, that no one can harm him and that those who deny this are moved by selfish interest."

Girolamo Dandino, papal nuncio in France.

Letter, May 1543.

Quoted in Knecht, Renaissance Warrior and Patron, p. 483.