CHAPTER I. BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS

Down to the middle of the present century the story of Rembrandt, as generally accepted, was nothing but a mass of more or less ill-natured fiction. His drunkenness, his luxury, his immorality, his avarice, were heaped together into a somewhat inconsistent midden-heap of infamy. It was not indeed until his true rank among painters began to be properly appreciated that it occurred to anyone to ask whether this harsh judgment did not need revision; nay, more, to inquire upon what evidence it had been first delivered, and the investigation had not long been set on foot before the question took the form— “Is there any evidence, good or bad, at all?”

There were soon many workers in this untried field, and to all the thanks of the artist’s admirers are due, but it is chiefly to M. Charles Vosmaer that his complete rehabilitation is to be credited, and it is bare justice to say that without availing himself freely of his researches and of M. Michel’s equally careful and critical marshalling of the facts, then and since obtained by others, no future historian of Rembrandt can hope to advance beyond the threshold of his subject. One by one the cobwebs of myth with which, partly through malice, partly through ignorance, the master’s image had been overwhelmed have been torn away, and we begin at last to see him as he really was, not impeccable, but intensely human, a kindly, patient, laborious, much-tried soul — one whom fortune, not altogether without his own provoking be it frankly owned, sorely buffeted, but one who, though well-nigh crushed, was never subdued; one whose courage sustained him to the last, whose one refuge against her flouts was in his art; who met, uncomplaining, neglect and contempt in his later years as he had in the heyday of his career received, unspoiled, unstinted praise and well-earned fame, and who said of himself in the height of his prosperity, “When I want rest for my mind, it is not honours I crave, but liberty.”

Much concerning Rembrandt has been revealed by M. Vosmaer and his fellow-workers, by MM. Bredius and Scheltema, de Vries and Immerzeel, Elzevier and Eckhoff, van der Willigen, and other patient seekers, but much, nevertheless, still remains in doubt or darkness.

Even as to the date of his birth, there is considerable uncertainty. Orlers, a burgomaster of Leyden, in a description of that town published in 1641, and therefore while not only Rembrandt himself but many people who must have remembered his birth were still alive, states that Rembrandt, the son of Hermann, the son of Gerrit, and Neeltje, the daughter of Willems of Suydtbroeck, was born on the 15th of July 1606, and later writers for more than two hundred years accepted his assertion without question. Dr Bredius has, however, shown that on May 25th, 1620, Rembrandt was entered as a student in the Faculty of Letters at the University of Leyden and his age is given in the same document as fourteen, Rembrandt Hermanni Leidensis 14 jare oud, and as this was before his birthday in that year the question arises as to whether the statement means that he was in his fourteenth year or that he had passed the fourteenth anniversary of his birthday. For, the day of his birth not being in dispute, if we take the latter and more obvious interpretation it would necessarily follow that the fourteenth anniversary was in 1619 and that he completed his first year on 25th May 1606, so that the actual day itself must have been in 1605. There is further and still conflicting evidence to be reckoned with. In the British Museum there is a proof of an etched portrait of himself dated 1631 [B. 7], on which is written, in what is believed to be his own hand, “aet. 24, 1631.” If this was written before the 15th of July it would point to 1606 as his birth year, thus agreeing with Orlers’ statement, while if it was written after that day it would imply 1607. It should, however, be observed that M. Blanc reads the figures on the etching as 25, and if he be correct in this the choice must lie between 1607 and 1608; while, to add further to the mystification, Mr Sidney Colvin reads the age as 27, which makes the birth year 1603 or 1604.

Nor is 1607 without further support. Dr Scheltema discovered in the marriage register of Amsterdam the record of Rembrandt’s official engagement to duly obtain his mother’s consent to his marriage, signed by himself, and in this he gives his age on July 10th, 1634, as twenty-six, in which case his birthday would have fallen in 1607, but we know that he was at all times very vague as to dates and figures. On a delightful pencil drawing on vellum, in the Berlin Museum, of his wife Saskia, there is an inscription in his handwriting “Dit is naer myn huysfrow geconterfeit do sy 21 jaer oud was den derden dach als wy getroudt waeren due 8 junyus 1633”— “This is a portrait of my wife when she was 21 years old, on the third day after our marriage, the 8th of June 1633,” a simple statement, which nevertheless contains a remarkable number of errors for so brief a document. Saskia, it is true, was twenty-one in 1633, but the marriage took place on the 22nd of June and in the year 1634.

If, then, Rembrandt could misdate an event so intimately connected with his life’s chief joy, how should we expect him to be more accurate about one, which indeed concerned him nearly, but of which he naturally had no personal recollection. That he was uncertain we have happily positive proof, thanks once more to Doctor Bredius, for on the 16th of September 1653, in giving his opinion as an expert in a trial concerning the authenticity of a certain picture by Paul Bril, he can only declare that he is about forty-six.

Such is the evidence upon this fortunately not very important point, and it is small wonder that of the two great authorities, M. Michel and M. Vosmaer, the first accepts 1606 and the second 1607 as the true date. The question must still remain an open one, but when we consider that Rembrandt’s mother did not die until 1640, only one year before Orlers published his book, and at a time when he had probably collected most of his material, and that nothing is more likely than that he should have applied to her for details, we may with safety conclude that the balance of probability is in favour of his date 1606.

Concerning the place of his birth there are no such doubts. If the visitor to Leyden, on his way from the station to the town, turns sharp to the right after crossing the second bridge, and on traversing a third keeps again to the right and continues with that branch of the Rhine known as the Galgewater on his right hand, he will before long find himself on the west side of the town, in a triangular open space, washed on two sides by the moat surrounding it, where once stood the White Gate guarding the entrance of the high-road from the Hague. On the left side of this, as one comes in from the country, and at right angles to it, close to where the buildings of the Zeemans-Kweekschool, or Naval School, now are, ran a short street called the Weddesteeg, in No. 3 of which Rembrandt was born.

It must have been a pleasant situation, facing the setting sun, with nothing but the town ramparts and the gleaming moat between it and the wide champaign. On the right hand the slow barges crept up and down the river, on the left the slow carts creaked to and from the town, while in front the broad sails of windmills swung round, and the whirr of the stones grinding malt for making beer hummed through the open doors. Up against the sky rose two, one almost opposite the windows of the house, the other a little to the left on the border of the Noordeinde, just inside the gate, of which Rembrandt’s father owned half, while his stepfather Cornelis, the son of Clæs, with his son Clæs, shared the other half between them.

He was a prosperous and respected man was Hermann, or Harmen — the name occurs in both forms — the son of Gerrit, called after the fashion of the time Harmen Gerritsz, to which he himself added van Rijn, as his son did after him. Besides his own residence, and his share of the mill, he owned houses within the town and gardens without, with plate and jewellery and house-plenishings and all things proper about him, and had been appointed by his fellow-citizens to a municipal office of importance, representing the ward of the Pelican, in which he lived, where he did so well what was asked of him that he was selected again for it some years later. He was at the former date thirty-five or thirty-six, and at the time when this, his fifth and youngest child but one, was born, he had been married fifteen years, his wedding-day having been the 8th of October 1589.

Rembrandt’s childhood, considering the condition of his father, was, we may be sure, at least a comfortable one, though of details we have none. We cannot even say where he learned to read and write, for neither of which exercises did he subsequently exhibit much affection. Probably at home, where maybe Coppenol, the great master of writing, at that time included among the fine-arts under the style of Caligraphy, taught him, and possibly gave him his first lessons in drawing also; for the art he professed, with its elaboration of curves and flourishes, and its, to our eyes, somewhat childish pictorial perversions, was a singular commingling of the two. One thing at least we may feel certain of, that it was at his mother’s knee he began the study of the Bible, which she herself read so constantly, if we may judge by its frequent appearance in his portraits of her, and which he, following in her footsteps, knew so thoroughly and drew upon so often for inspiration.

The next fact we find chronicled is a passage in Orlers to the effect that his parents sent him to school to learn the Latin tongue, in preparation for the University of Leyden, that when he came of age he might by his knowledge serve the City and Republic; and in fulfilment of this laudable ambition we find that entry on May 25th, 1620, as a student in the Faculty of Letters, which has already been noted in another connection. But by this time, by what means we know not, the art craving was fully aroused, and his parents’ ambitious scheme for his serving the City and Republic was as nothing beside his own irresistible desire to express himself in form and colour. He proved, we are told, but an unwilling scholar, the lines of Virgil and Ovid were lifeless to him, in comparison with those of Lucas van Leyden; and his elders, yielding with a fortunate wisdom to the inevitable, gave up the effort to make a statesman of him, and consented to apprentice him, according to his wish, to a painter to learn first principles from him.