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ONE of Piero di Cosimo's pupils was Andrea del Sarto, the son
of a tailor, who took his name from his father's trade. At the
age of seven years he was put with a goldsmith, but Gian Barile,
a Florentine painter, seeing his drawings, took him to work with
him. After three years' earnest study, Gian Barile perceived that
the boy would have extraordinary success if he attended to his
studies, and he spoke of him to Piero di Cosimo, who was then
considered one of the best painters in Florence, and put him under
his care. Andrea, desirous to learn, never rested from his studies,
and being a born painter, he managed his colours as if he had
worked for fifty years. So Piero loved him much, and was wonderfully
pleased to hear that whenever he had time, especially on feastdays,
he would spend it in the hall of the Pope, where were the cartoons
of Michael Angelo and Lionardo da Vinci, and that he surpassed,
though young, all the other artists, natives or strangers, who
came constantly to study there. Among these Andrea was most pleased
with the conversation of Francia Bigio, and Francia being equally
so with Andrea, they became friends; and Andrea told Francia that
he could endure no longer the eccentricities of Piero, who was
then getting old, and that he must take a room for himself. Francia
being forced to do the same, because Mariotto Albertinelli, his
master, had given up painting, proposed that they should join
together. So they took a room in the Piazza del Grano, and did
many works 1n company. Afterwards they took new rooms near the
convent of the Nunziata, and it happened that Jacopo Sansovino,
then a youth, was working in the same place under Andrea Contucci,
and he and Andrea formed so close a friendship that they were
never apart day or night; and as all their conversation was about
art it is no wonder that they both became excellent masters.
In the convent of the Servites there was a sacristan named Fra
Mariano, who constantly hearing Andrea praised and spoken of as
one making marvellous progress, thought to get something out of
him at little expense. So to try Andrea, who was soft and pliable
where honour was concerned, he began to express a wish to help
him in a matter which would bring him honour and profit. Now
some years before, Cosimo Rosselli had begun in the first cloister
a picture of S. Filippo, the founder of the order, taking the
habit of monk, but the picture was not finished when he died.
The friar, therefore, wishing the rest to be painted, thought
by making Andrea and Francia rivals, to get it at less expense.
So opening his mind to Andrea, he persuaded him to undertake it,
pointing out that it was a public place and much frequented, and
he would become known to strangers as well as Florentines; he
ought not therefore to consider the price, and if he would not
do it there was Francia, who had offered to do it and left the
price to him. The first suggestions inclined Andrea to undertake
it, but when he heard of Francia he resolved at once, and an agreement
was made in writing that no one else might interfere. So the friar
having set him to work, he was first to finish the life of S.
Filippo, having no more than ten ducats for each picture, which
the friar said he gave him out of his own money, more for his
good than for the profit of the convent. But when he had painted
one side of the cloisters, finding the price too little, and that
they made too much of the honour, he determined to give up the
rest of the work, at which the friar complained greatly, and held
him to his agreement. So Andrea promised to do two more if he
would raise the price. Francia Bigio meanwhile was entrusted with
the painting in the cloister, and represented there the Marriage
of the Virgin. The friars, desiring that Andrea's and Francia's
pictures should be uncovered for a certain feast, on the night
that Francia had finished his they presumptuously went and uncovered
it themselves, not understanding that Francia might retouch it.
In the morning the news was brought to Francia that his work and
Andrea's had been uncovered, and it grieved him almost to death.
But falling into a passion with the friars for their presumption
in showing him so little respect, he rushed to his picture, and
climbing on to the scaffold, which had not yet been taken down,
seized a mason's hammer which was lying there and struck at some
of the women's faces, spoiling the Virgin's altogether. The friars
and others, running in at the noise, held his hands to prevent
his spoiling the whole picture. But although they offered him
double payment he would never mend it, and he was so much honoured
that no other would ever finish it. So the work remained in this
state.
These works brought Andrea into greater notice, and many pictures
and works of importance were entrusted to him, and he made for
himself so great a name in the city that he was considered one
of the first painters, and although he had asked little for his
works he found himself in a position to help his relatives. But
falling in love with a young woman who was left a widow, he took
her for his wife, and had enough todo all the rest of his life,
and had to work harder than he had ever done before, for besides
the duties and liabilities which belong to such a union, he took
upon him many more troubles, being constantly vexed with jealousy
and Dne thing and another. And all who knew his case felt compassion
for him, and blamed the simplicity which had reduced him to such
a condition. He had been much sought after by his friends before,
but now ke was avoided. For though his pupils stayed with him,
hoping to learn something from him, there was not one, great or
small, who did not suffer by her evil words or blows during the
time he was there.
Nevertheless, this torment seemed to him the highest pleasure.
He never put a woman in any picture which he did not draw from
her, for even if another sat to him, through seeing her constantly
and having drawn her so often, and, what is more, having her impressed
on his mind, it always came about that the head resembled hers.
A certain Florentine, Giovanni Battista Puccini, being extraordinarily
pleased with Andrea's work, charged him to paint a picture of
our Lady to send to France, but it was so beautiful that he kept
it himself and did not send it away. However, trafficking constantly
with France, and being employed to send good pictures there, he
gave Andrea another picture to paint, a dead Christ supported
by angels. When it was done every one was so pleased with it that
Andrea was entreated to let it be engraved in Rome by Agostino
Veniziano, but as it did not succeed very well he would never
let any other of his pictures be engraved. The picture itself
gave no less pleasure in France than it had done in Italy, and
the king gave orders that Andrea should do another, in consequence
of which he resolved at his friend's persuasion to go himself
to France. But that year ISI5 the Florentines, hearing that Pope
Leo X. meant to honour his native place with a visit, gave orders
that he should be received with great feasting, and such magnificent
decorations were prepared, with arches, statues, and other ornaments,
as had never been seen before, there being at that time in the
city a greate~ number of men of genius and talent than there had
ever been before. And what was most admired was the facade of
S. Maria del Fiore, made of wood and painted with pictures by
Andrea del Sarto, the architecture being by Jacopo Sansovino,
with some basreliefs and statues, and the Pope pronounced that
it could not have been more beautiful if it had been in marble.
Meanwhile King Francis I., greatly admiring his works, was told
that Andrea would easily be persuaded to remove to France and
enter into his service; and the thing pleased the king well. So
he gave command that money should be paid him for his journey;
and Andrea set out joyfully for France, takillg with him Andrea
Sguazzella his pupil. And having arrived at the court, he was
received lovingly by the king, and before the first day was over
experienced the liberality of that magnanimous king, receiving
gifts of money and rich garments. He soon began to work, and won
the esteem of the king and the whole court, being caressed by
all, so that it seemed to him he had passed from a state of extreme
unhappiness to the greatest felicity. Among his first works he
painted from life the Dauphin, then only a few months old, and
therefore in swaddling clothes, and when he brought it to the
king he received for it three hundred crowns of gold. And the
king, that he might stay with him willingly, ordered that great
provision should be made for him, and that he should want for
nothing. But one day, while he was working upon a S. Jerome for
the king's mother, there came to him letters from Lucrezia his
wife, whom he had left in Florence, and she wrote that when he
was away, although his letters told her he was well, she could
not cease from sorrow and constant weeping, using many sweet words
apt to touch the heart of a man who loved her only too well, so
that the poor man was nearly beside himself when he read that
if he did not return soon he would find her dead. So he prayed
the king for leave to go to Florence and put his affairs in order,
and bring his wife to France, promising to bring with him on his
return pictures and sculptures of price. The king, trusting him,
gave him money for this purpose, and Andrea swore on the Gospels
to return in a few months. He arrived in Florence happily, and
enjoyed himself with his beautiful wife and his friends. At last,
the time having come when he ought to return to the king, he found
himself in extremity, for he had spent on building and on his
pleasures his own money and the king's also. Nevertheless he would
have returned, but the tears and prayers of his wife prevailed
against his promise to the king. When he did not return the king
was so angered that for a long time he would not look at a Florentine
painter, and swore that if ever Andrea fell into his hands, it
should be to his hurt, without regard to his talents.
When Frederick II, Duke of Mantua, passed through Florence, going
to pay homage to Pope Clement VII., he saw over a door in the
Medici Palace that portrait of Pope Leo between Cardinal Giulio
de' Medici and Cardinal de' Rossi, which was made by the great
Raffaello da Urbino. Being extraordinarily pleased with it, he
considered how he could make it his own, and when he was in Rome,
choosing his time, he made request for it from Pope Clement, who
granted it to him courteously, and orders were sent to Florence
to Ottaviano de' Medici to put it into a case and send it to Mantua.
But the thing greatly displeased Ottaviano, who would not have
Florence deprived of such a picture. He replied therefore that
he would not fail to serve the duke, but that the frame of the
picture being bad, he would have a new one made, and when it was
gilded, he would send the picture securely to Mantua. Then Ottaviano,
with the view, as we say, of saving both the goat and its fodder,
sent secretly for Andrea and told him how matters stood, and that
there was nothing else to be done but to have the picture copied
as fast as possible, and to send the copy to the duke, secretly
keeping the picture from Raffaello's hand. So Andrea promised
to do the best he could, and having had a panel made of the same
size, he worked at it secretly in Ottaviano's house, and laboured
to such effect that, when it was finished, Ottaviano himself,
who understood these things well, did not know one from the other,
Andrea having even copied some dirty stains that were on the original.
So having hidden Raffaello's picture, they sent Andrea's to Mantua,
and the duke was perfectly satisfied. Even Giulio Romano the painter,
Raffaello's disciple, did not perceive the thing, and would always
have believed it to be from Raffaello's hand if Giorgio Vasari
(who, being Ottaviano's favourite, had seen Andrea working at
the picture) had not discovered the matter to him. For when Giorgio
came to Mantua, Giulio paid him much attention, and showed him
the antiquities and pictures, and among them this picture of Raffaello's,
as the best thing that was there; and Giorgio answered, "The
work is most beautiful, but not from the hand of Raffaello."
"No?" said Giulio; "do not I know, when I can recognize
the touches that I put upon it ?" "You have forgotten,"
answered Giorgio, "for this is by Andrea del Sarto, and in
proof of it look at this sign (showing it to him), which was put
upon it in Florence, because the two being together were mistaken
the one for the other." When he heard this Giulio had the
picture turned round, and when he saw the countersign, he shrugged
his shoulders and said, "I esteem it none the less than if
it were from Raffaello's hand, rather the more, for it is a thing
beyond nature that a good painter should imitate so well another's
manner and make it so like."
Not long after, Baldo Magini of Prato, desiring to have a picture
painted for the Madonna della Carcere, among many other painters
Andrea was proposed to him, and Baldo, though he did not know
much about thc matter, was more inclined to him than any other,
and had already intimated to him that he would employ him, when
a Niccolo Soggi of Sansovino, having friends in Prato, was recommended
so strongly to Baldo that the work was given to him. Nevertheless
Andrea's friends sent for him, and he, thinking certainly the
work was to be his, went with Domenico Puligo and some other painters
his friends to Prato. But when he arrived he found that Niccolo
had not only turned Baldo against him, but was himself so daring
and insolent as to propose in the presence of Baldo that they
should make a wager who could paint the best picture. Andrea,
knowing what Niccolo was worth, answered (though he was generally
a man of little spirit), " 1 have this pupil of mine with
me who has not been studying long; if you like to have a wager
with him, I will put down the money for him; but nothing will
make me consent to compete with you, for if I were to win, it
would be no honour to me, and if I lost, it would be the greatest
disgrace." Then telling Baldo that he did right to give the
work to Niccolo, for he would do it so that it would please people
going to market, he returned to Florence.
Here he was employed by Giacomo, a Servite friar, who, when absolving
a woman from a vow, had commanded her to have the figure of our
Lady painted over a door in the Nunziata. Finding Andrea, he told
him that he had this money to spend, and although it was not much,
it would be well done of him to undertake it; and Andrea, being
softhearted, was prevailed upon by the father's persuasions, and
painted in fresco our Lady with the Child in her arms, and St.
Joseph leaning on a sack. This picture needs none to praise it,
for all can see it to be a most rare work.
One day Andrea had been painting the intendant of the monks of
Vallombrosa, and when the work was done some of the colour was
left over, and Andrea, taking a tile, called Lucrezia, his wife,
and said, "Come here, for as this colour is left, I will
paint you, that it may be seen how well you are preserved for
your age, and yet how you have changed and how different you are
from your first portraits." But the woman, having some fancy
or other, would not sit still, and Andrea, as if he guessed that
he was near his end, took a mirror and painted himself instead
so well that the portrait seems alive. This portrait is still
in possession of Lucrezia his wife.
During the siege of Florence some of the captains of the city
escaped, carrying with them the pay of their soldiers; therefore
Andrea was charged to paint them in the Piazza del Podesta, together
with some other citizens who had escaped and become rebels. That
he might not be nicknamed Andrea of the Hanged Men, as Andrea
dal Castagno had been, he gave it out that one of his pupils,
Bernardo del Buda, was doing it; but, having enclosed the place
with a hoarding, he used to go in and out by night, and carried
out the work with his own hand so well that the figures appeared
alive. The paintings on the facade of the old Mercatanzia were
many years afterwards covered with whitewash that they might not
be seen.
After the siege was over, Florence was filled with the soldiers
from the camp, and some of the spearmen being ill with the plague
caused no little panic in the city, and in a short time the infection
spread. Either from the fear excited by it, or from having committed
some excess in eating after the privations of the siege, Andrea
one day fell ill, and taking to his bed, he died, it is said,
almost without any one perceiving it, without medicine and without
much care, for his wife kept as far from him as she could for
fear of the plague.
