Title Page from Les Grands Misères et Malheurs de la Guerre
Artist: Jacques Callot (French, 1592-1635)
Publisher: Israël Henriet (French, ca. 1590-1661)
Date: 1633
Dimensions:
Image: 3 9/16 × 7 1/2 in. (9 × 19.1 cm)
Sheet: 4 3/4 × 9 in. (12.1 × 22.9 cm)
Medium: Etching
Classification: Prints
Credit Line: Purchased with funds from the Libbey Endowment, Gift of Edward Drummond Libbey
Object number: 1982.130A
Label Text:Callot entertains us with hundreds of tiny, spirited devils sent to temp and torment Saint Anthony. Many are seen cavorting with musical instruments humorously adapted from weapons of war. Saint Anthony is hard to find, cowering in his cave at the lower right. A winged monster—Lucifer himself?—dominates the proscenium arch framing the print, both a threatening and a compelling presence.
The translated inscription:
To the most illustrious man, Lord and Master Louis Phélypeaux, Seignior of Lavrilière, Count of the Consistory, man of the sacred commands, Jacques Callot vows, dedicates and consecrates.
Shapeless specters, monsters stabled in obscure hiding places, broke out of their lower world and in close marching order profane the world and light with deadly poisons. The shapes of so many crimes transformed the hermitage into Erebus. In the meantime what are you doing under the vault of the huge rock, holy old man: you feel the force of so great enemies and despise them? Nothing mortal inspires you, nor do alluring Joys move your heart; neither Love breaks it nor death frightens. The mind fixed on heaven and restoring its strength from the Source, endures on earth the battles, which he derides, in the upper air.
The translated inscription:
To the most illustrious man, Lord and Master Louis Phélypeaux, Seignior of Lavrilière, Count of the Consistory, man of the sacred commands, Jacques Callot vows, dedicates and consecrates.
Shapeless specters, monsters stabled in obscure hiding places, broke out of their lower world and in close marching order profane the world and light with deadly poisons. The shapes of so many crimes transformed the hermitage into Erebus. In the meantime what are you doing under the vault of the huge rock, holy old man: you feel the force of so great enemies and despise them? Nothing mortal inspires you, nor do alluring Joys move your heart; neither Love breaks it nor death frightens. The mind fixed on heaven and restoring its strength from the Source, endures on earth the battles, which he derides, in the upper air.
Not on view