Pledge of Spring

Jacques Le Moyne, quoted by Miles Harvery, Painter in a Savage Land: The Strange Saga of the First European Artist in North America, p. 203, and translated (mostly) by R.N. Currey, in Hulton et al., The Work of Jacques Le Moyne de Morgues, Vol. 1, p. 165:

Discordant harmony and stable movement,
Winter and Summer, Autumn, reborn Spring,
Renewing her sweet scents and coloring,
Join in the praise of God's unfailing judgment.

This loving God gives every argument
To look for zeal from each created thing,
To bless His name eternally and sing
All He has made in earth and firmament.

Above all He made man with head held high
To watch each morning as new light arrives
And decorates earth's breast with varied flowers.

There is no fruit, or grain, or grub, or fly
That does not preach one to God, the least flower gives
Pledge of Spring with everlasting colors.

The Rediscovery of Jacques Le Moyne

On a humid day in July, I drove through Northern Virginia horse country to keep an appointment at the Oak Spring Garden Library in Upperville, Virginia, to view the private botanical art and rare book collection of Mrs. Rachel Mellon. The staff welcomed me warmly and treated me to an experience that I will never forget. Along with a tour of the vast holdings of Mrs. Mellon, who personally designed the Jacqueline Kennedy Garden, and who will turn 100 years old next month, I was privileged to hold in my hands the one and only complete edition of the only book published by French Huguenot artist Jacques Le Moyne de Morgues, La Clef des Champs (1586).

La Clef des Champs is a pattern book, designed to provide archetypical samples of various flora, fauna and animals for use in embroidery, tapestry and needlework. It was published at the end of Le Moyne's life and illustrates his remarkable skill at bringing creation to life through watercolor. It was dedicated to his patroness, Lady Mary Sidney, wife of Sir Henry Sidney, confidante of Queen Elizabeth I, and mother of the famous poet Sir Philip Sidney, and begins with a dedicatory epistle and a sonnet dedicated to her, one of several that Le Moyne was known to write. As I leafed through the pages, I was struck by the vividness of the color, still striking after over 400 years, and the attention to detail by this master. They are, as Wilfrid Blunt described, "a labour of love" (The Art of Botanical Illustration: An Illustrated History, p. 82). Two other manuscripts among the library's holdings attributed to him reaffirmed to me his amazing gift. One was especially noteworthy for his inclusion of roots in his floral works. These represent a significant portion of his extant works. What is especially remarkable is that but for the providence of God, Le Moyne would have been remembered only as one of the first French Huguenot martyrs in America.

Le Moyne was born in 1533 in Dieppe, France, both a prominent seaport and a Huguenot stronghold. Little is known about his early years. Miles Harvey hypothesizes that his father was the Catholic embroiderer and friend of Mary, Queen of Scots, Henry Le Moyne. He must have had connections to the royal court because he was invited to join the 1564 Florida expedition of Lt. René de Laudonnière, serving as the royal cartographer and artist for the voyage. He wrote a narrative of his experiences upon his return home at the personal request of King Charles IX to accompany his remarkable artwork. His account is one of a few invaluable sources which inform us of life at Fort Caroline, the third French Huguenot colony in the Americas (France Antarctique in Brazil (1555-1567) and Charlesfort, South Carolina (1562) were the first), and his artwork serves as the first European depictions of American Indians, the Timucua. His maps also fill an important role in the cartographical history of the United States. He survived the infamous Spanish massacre of Fort Caroline on September 20, 1565, by fleeing the fort and making a return voyage which landed him in England first, then overland to France. It is thought that he lost his artwork when he was forced to flee Fort Caroline suddenly, and then recreated his drawings on the return voyage or sometime thereafter, but Harvey speculates that he perhaps salvaged some of his notes at least.

Some time later, after fleeing France following the 1572 St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre, he entered the service of Sir Walter Raleigh, and became acquainted with John White, an artist who later famously served as Governor of the Lost Colony of Roanoke Island, North Carolina. White was influenced artistically by the French Huguenot. Le Moyne died in May 1588, and was buried at Blackfriars Parish. His wife Jeane survived him by several years, but it does not appear that their son did. Towards the end of his life, Le Moyne made the acquaintance of Theodore de Bry, Belgian engraver, who had a vision to promote the exploration and colonization of America. De Bry sought to obtain Le Moyne's paintings for publishing but they were unable to come to terms; after Le Moyne's death, De Bry purchased them from Jeane, and subsquently published engravings based on the artwork of both John White and Jacques Le Moyne, which became sensational best-sellers in his day, and contributed greatly towards the early 17th century European migration to America.

However, Le Moyne himself faded into obscurity as an artist, as did the story of the Fort Caroline colony and its role in the building of America. It was not until the late 19th century that Americans began to realize that French Protestants had preceded English Protestants in settling this nation. It was not until 1900 that Le Moyne's art began to be identified as his, when his illustration of The Indian Chief Athore showing Laudonniere the Marker Column set up by Ribault was positively attributed to him (now in the possession of the New York Public Library), and notice was taken of its importance in art history. In 1922, Spencer Savage, librarian of the Linnean Society, realized that a collection of watercolor plants owned by the Victoria and Albert Museum was in fact the work of Le Moyne. This attribution paved the way for further attributions to Le Moyne, and stirred 20th century interest in the man himself, who lived such an interesting life and created such beautiful art. The world's rediscovery of Jacques Le Moyne has enriched our understanding of art and world history in so many ways.

His art may now be found in a few places around the world: the British Museum and the Victoria and Albert Museum in London; the New York Public Library; the Yale Center for British Art in New Haven, Connecticut; Dumbarton Oaks, Washington, DC; and the Oak Spring Garden Library in Upperville, Virginia.

Le Moyne himself found pleasure in recreating the artwork of his God, as he wrote in a poem once, calling us to elevate our minds from the creation to the Creator:

Seek no more the colors of a gay Spring
which in the living flowers fade in an hour
here sweet Flora remains in her beauty
and does not lose her distinction through the rigors of time.

Protestant Iconoclasm and Art Appreciation

Contrary to Islamic aniconism, which prohibits the representation of living creatures in art, Protestant iconoclasm, mistaken interpretations notwithstanding, has not opposed visual and aesthetic art en masse, but only sought to channel it in ways that accord with the second and seventh commandments. Geraldine Jean Wheeler, Visual Art, the Artist and Worship in the Reformed Tradition: A Theological Study (2003 dissertation), pp. 9-10, writes:

In spite of the widely held view, expressed by Voltaire27 and many others, that Calvin, Geneva and the whole following tradition eschewed art, this can be shown to be misplaced.

27 Quoted in [Jérôme] Cottin, Le regard et la Parole, p. 285, n. 1.

Likewise, the charge that the Puritans were "fanatical Philistines, apostles of gloom, utterly antagonistic to the arts and music" as well as "tone-deaf and colour-blind iconoclasts" has been ably refuted by others.

One need only look closely at the works of Calvin and his followers to see the distinction between opposing ungodly art and allowing art its freedom to blossom within ethical boundaries. Illustrations abound in the Geneva Bible; Huguenot craftsmen such as the potter Bernard Palissy thrived under the Calvinistic appreciation of the arts; the Dutch Golden Age is renowned for its visual arts. The first paintings of Native North Americans were made by Jacques Le Moyne, the French Huguenot painter who survived the Spanish massacre of Fort Caroline, near modern-day Jacksonville, Florida, in 1565. Theodore Beza's classic work, Icones, was not a treatise against images in church, but a collection of biographies of ecclesiastical leaders, accompanied by pictures, or images, of these men. The list goes on...

John Calvin, Institutes 1.11.12:

12. I am not, however, so superstitious as to think that all visible representations of every kind are unlawful. But as sculpture and painting are gifts of God, what I insist for is, that both shall be used purely and lawfully,—that gifts which the Lord has bestowed upon us, for his glory and our good, shall not be preposterously abused, nay, shall not be perverted to our destruction. We think it unlawful to give a visible shape to God, because God himself has forbidden it, and because it cannot be done without, in some degree, tarnishing his glory. And lest any should think that we are singular in this opinion, those acquainted with the productions of sound divines will find that they have always disapproved of it. If it be unlawful to make any corporeal representation of God, still more unlawful must it be to worship such a representation instead of God, or to worship God in it. The only things, therefore, which ought to be painted or sculptured, are things which can be presented to the eye; the majesty of God, which is far beyond the reach of any eye, must not be dishonored by unbecoming representations. Visible representations are of two classes—viz. historical, which give a representation of events, and pictorial, which merely exhibit bodily shapes and figures. The former are of some use for instruction or admonition. The latter, so far as I can see, are only fitted for amusement. And yet it is certain, that the latter are almost the only kind which have hitherto been exhibited in churches. Hence we may infer, that the exhibition was not the result of judicious selection, but of a foolish and inconsiderate longing. I say nothing as to the improper and unbecoming form in which they are presented, or the wanton license in which sculptors and painters have here indulged (a point to which I alluded a little ago, supra, s. 7). I only say, that though they were otherwise faultless, they could not be of any utility in teaching.

John Calvin, Catechism of Geneva (1545), quoted in James T. Dennison, Jr., ed., Reformed Confessions of the 16th and 17th Centuries in English Translation, Vol. 1, pp. 487-488 [on the second commandment]:

144. M[inister]. Does He entirely forbid us to make any image?
C[hild]. No, but He forbids us to make any image with which to represent God, or to worship Him.

148. M. This does not mean that all sculpture or painting is universally forbidden, but only all images used in the service of God, or in worshipping Him in visible things, or indeed for any abuse of them in idolatry of any kind whatsoever.
C. That is so.

Heidelberg Catechism (1563):

Question 96. What does God require in the second commandment?

Answer: That we in no wise represent God by images, nor worship him in any other way than he has commanded in his word.

Question 97. Are images then not at all to be made?

Answer: God neither can, nor may be represented by any means: (a) but as to creatures; though they may be represented, yet God forbids to make, or have any resemblance of them, either in order to worship them or to serve God by them.

Question 98. But may not images be tolerated in the churches, as books to the laity?

Answer: No: for we must not pretend to be wiser than God, who will have his people taught, not by dumb images, but by the lively preaching of his word.