[Born 1770. Died 1844. Aged 74.]
He was born, as he said, at Copenhagen: some say in Iceland: some at
sea, between. His father, an Icelander, was employed in carving heads
for ships in the Royal Dockyard, on which the great sculptor practised
his young hand: his mother was a priest’s daughter. He was educated, as
all the children of workmen, in the _Holm_, or dockyard, at the King’s
expense. At 11, Thorwaldsen was a student at the Academy of Fine Arts in
Copenhagen. At 17, he first secured attention, and gained the small
silver medal; at 19, the large. At 21, he won the small, at 23, the
large gold medal. His birthday he did not know, but he called it March
8th, the day of his arriving at Rome in 1796. In the Eternal City he
addicted himself to the antique. He brought introductions to Zoega the
Dane, then living at Rome, a learned and antiquarian connoisseur. Zoega
dealt kindly and hardly with the young sculptor, severely criticizing
his labours; and Thorwaldsen, under his critic’s censure, and from his
own dissatisfaction, destroyed numerous attempts. His first “Jason with
the Golden Fleece,” of the natural size, made no impression, and he
broke it in pieces. He made it again, 8¹⁄₂ feet high. It secured general
admiration, and this time he did not destroy his work. He had, however,
made up his mind to go home; his small preparation was completed; Jason
was to be sent after him; but a mistake in a passport created a day’s
delay. During the short interval, Thomas Hope, a well-known name in
England, entered the artist’s studio, and saw the “Jason.” The price was
asked. “Six hundred zecchini.” “I will give eight hundred,” answered
Thomas Hope. Thorwaldsen stopped in Rome, and now began and went on, his
mightier career. His chief works are classical subjects--some Christian,
to which he drew late in life. The most popular of all his productions
is the bas-relief of “Priam and Achilles.” In 1819, he returned to
Copenhagen, but not permanently until 1838. In Rome he was the friend of
Canova, who acknowledged his merit. His health was often very weak, and
he died suddenly at a theatre. He was simple in his manners, and
beloved. In fire and grandeur he resembled Michael Angelo. The old
Scandinavian energetic blood rolled in his veins. The family tradition
made him descended from one of those early warrior-kings: a more
glorious, innocent conqueror.
[By Rauch. Plaster. 1816. Done at Rome. A fine artist-like head. The
original is in the studio of Rauch.]