The visualization of war and peace is a key theme in Rubens' painted allegories. The times in which he lived had much to do with this: having started his work in Antwerp during the Twelve Years' Truce, he continued it in the final phase of the Eighty Years' War, which coincided from 1618 onwards with the Thirty Years' War. Also of importance was Rubens' role as a diplomat, which was strongest in his later years.

His allegorizations of war and peace may be roughly divided into two groups: one in which the theme was dealt with in its own right, and another in which it was incorporated into a wider context of cycles and ensembles intended as political propaganda. A gradual shift of emphasis may also be identified: while Rubens' early allegorical portrayals of war and peace tended to focus on the blessings of peace, his later pieces turned more (though not exclusively) to the damage inflicted by violent conflict. Up to a point this may reflect the fact that the seeds of hope for a lasting settlement that had been sown by the signing of the Twelve Years' Truce shrivelled up after 1621. While Rubens' "Minerva protects Pax from Mars (Peace and War)", painted in 1629-1630 (London, National Gallery) represents an intensely optimistic view of the triumph of peace, his 1638 "Horrors of War" (Florence, Pitti Palace) plunges to the depths of pessimism in its rendering of the havoc wrought by a protracted war. [1]

After Rubens' death in 1640 and the conclusion of the Peace of Westphalia in 1648, allegorical representations of the theme of war and peace continued to figure prominently in monumental history paintings produced in the Southern Netherlands. [2] The continued prominence of the theme was partly related to political and military conditions: after 1648, the Southern Netherlands faced war in a new and even more terrifying form when it became the battlefield of Europe under the belligerent policies of Louis XIV. Rubens made a deep and lasting impression on seventeenth-century Flemish history painting in terms of both form and content; his influence was so great as to set the course for the painters after him who exploited the continuing demand for allegorical treatments of the theme of war and peace. The most significant examples of this influence are found, naturally enough, in the oeuvre of painters who are known to have belonged to the inner circle of Rubens' assistants, and who must therefore have enjoyed a close and privileged relationship with his workshop.



1. War and peace as a separate subject

The painting that exerted most influence on the younger generations of Flemish painters was Rubens' renowned allegory of peace, "Minerva protects Pax from Mars", which he produced in London in 1629-1630. With its evocative rendering of the joys of peace and the spirit of hope it radiated, this picture soon acquired a truly iconic significance.

A painting by another artist, but based on a conception by Rubens and possibly produced under his supervision, is the "Allegory of Peace" in the Alte Pinakothek in Munich. [3] The piece was probably executed shortly after Rubens' return from London in 1630. The composition is a clear variant on that of the London allegory, but while charged with more dramatic resonance it lacks the unity of meaning that is so characteristic of the earlier painting. Minerva rushes resolutely towards Mars to chase him away. Here, in contrast to the London painting, the fear of war has not yet been dispelled. This is apparent from the reaction of Pax/Venus, who is watching Mars fighting his rearguard action with Minerva with some anxiety. Harpies and a toppled column serve as graphic reminders of the destructive work of Mars, while other evidence shows that the destruction lies in the past: at left, women and children are seen delighting in the joys of peace attained through the expulsion of Mars. The picture has relatively little detail, as a result of which there is all the more emphasis on the figure of Mars retreating before Minerva. It is quite possible that Rubens himself, in his design for this work, had in mind a more dramatic variant of the London allegory. In any case it is striking that his later allegorical scenes of war and peace display a marked accent on violent conflict. [4] The unidentified painter who executed the Munich peace allegory after Rubens' preparatory material discarded the idea of a Pax/Venus who gives her milk to achieve Abundance (ex pace ubertas) in favour of the simpler and more anecdotal image of a child drinking at its mother's breast: in this connection one notes the apparent lack of any organic relationship here between the different parts of the composition, which is quite unlike the London allegory. [5]

The painting that displays the closest relationship with the London painting is a piece acquired for the Rubenshuis in Antwerp, which has been exhibited there ever since as an anonymous Flemish work from the seventeenth century (cat. 000, fig. 000). [6] In fact it is a canvas by Gerard Seghers (1591-1651), who worked closely with Rubens, especially in the 1630s, and who executed monumental paintings after his sketches, for instance for the Pompa Introitus Ferdinandi. [7] That Seghers was intimately acquainted with the composition of the London canvas is obvious from the composure of Pax/Venus, who radiates blissful happiness in her absorption with her children, and from Mars's sideways glance. On the other hand, it may be inferred from the overall structure of the canvas in the Rubenshuis that Seghers also studied the composition in Munich. The arrangement and poses of the children and the young woman, in particular - these figures taking up much of the left half of the painting - are unmistakable echoes of the painting in Munich. And on the right, where the viewer's attention is inexorably drawn to the duel between Minerva and Mars, the figure of Minerva, whose outstretched left arm pushes her shield defensively towards Mars, is borrowed directly from the Munich composition rather than the London painting, in which she adopts a different pose and keeps Mars at bay with her right arm.

Anton van Dijck (1599-1641) and Jacob Jordaens (1593-1678) take the compositional scheme of Rubens' London peace allegory as a point of departure for their own interpretations in a more original and personal manner. Van Dijck's "Allegory of Peace" may be dated in the early 1630s. No monumental painted version of the composition is known; it can only be appraised in the form of a wash drawing in the Louvre in Paris. [8] Although she is shown fully clothed here, the dominant, centrally enthroned figure of Pax/Venus is a clear quotation from Rubens' allegory. In her right hand she holds two arrows, which, as symbols of unity, also bring to mind Abraham Janssen's similar allegorization of the unity forged by peace. In contrast to Rubens' rendering, Pax/Venus is depicted here more triumphantly still: at her feet sit Mars and Hercules, symbolizing war and violence, manacled and bowed in the manner of prisoners of war. Here, as in the case of Rubens and paintings derived more directly from him, the putti introduce a lighter, poetic note. On the left, they carry off Mars's weapons almost playfully. The peace achieved through this disarmament is expressed in a similarly playful manner on the right, where two putti kiss, reflecting the task of Amor, the god of love, who can be seen standing behind them. The joys of peace are expressed here by the rich supply of fruit, symbolizing abundance, which a satyr is giving to a young boy. This theme too, albeit with a different disposition of the figures, derives from Rubens' London peace allegory. The lively play of the small children who dart agilely about the entire scene give the composition a more sentimental aspect, entirely within the spirit of van Dijck's late period. Van Dijck's interpretation of the pastoral theme derived from Tasso and Guarini, which he also executed around this time, was much akin to this. [9]

The question arises of whether the allegorical representations of abundance (whether as a personification or as Pomona, the goddess of fruit), several interesting examples of which have been preserved from the first half of the seventeenth century, could be regarded as a kind of painted fantasy, representing a yearning for a new Golden Age that many hoped would dawn with the long-awaited conclusion of peace. After all, the buyers on the art market may well have been familiar with the strong link in Graeco-Roman thinking between peace and the fertility of the land. [10]

Jacob Jordaens handled this theme masterfully in his allegories of abundance in the early 1620s. [11] These pieces centre on nymphs, satyrs and peasants paying tribute to the fertility goddesses Ceres and Pomona, offering them garlands of fruit and cornucopias. A striking piece displaying the same iconography was produced by Cornelis Schut (1597-1655) in the late 1630s. It seems reasonable to assume that this theme originally had connotations of peace, given that the painting in question has traditionally been described as an allegory of peace and abundance. [12] Its compositional structure too could point to a connection with the allegorization of peace: Pomona enthroned at the centre, with putti and nymphs scurrying around her, bringing the harvest from the field, is reminiscent of Rubens' London peace allegory of 1629-1630. Nonetheless, the essential difference between the two allegories is that Schut's piece has no reference whatsoever to the theme of war; there is no Mars to be expelled or overcome. This inevitably enhances the painting's decorative character. An unambiguous reference to abundance and prosperity as a direct result of the conclusion of peace - in a piece specifically intended to express Antwerp's fantasies of the future - is found in the "Allegory of the Prosperity of Antwerp" (La Valletta, Museum of Fine Arts), a large painting that was made around 1640 by Theodoor van Thulden (1606-1669). [13] The dating of this canvas is based solely on stylistic grounds, and the context in which it was commissioned is as yet unknown. Nevertheless, there is one compelling reason to date it, at any rate, before the conclusion of the Peace of Westphalia: it contains a very clear reference to the reopening of the Scheldt river, an event that the population yearned for. Left of centre is the personification of Antwerp, identifiable by the city's coat of arms on her stone throne. To her left is Time (Cronos), who is trampling on discord. Above them a winged genius blows his horn, while a small putto drives out the furies of war with a flaming torch. At right, Antwerp is approached by a nude Abundance bearing a cornucopia, while at her feet, two putti are crushing the engines of war. At top right, Mercury and Juno look on benevolently and shower their surroundings with gold coins. Finally, at bottom right there is a river god, represented as an impressive repoussoir figure. Within this context, of course, he must be identified as Scaldis, the god of the river Scheldt, who longingly awaits its reopening. Although they are joined here by other personifications, it is not fanciful, perhaps, to see both the arrangement of the figures and the strong focus on the two primary allegorical figures as a gesture to the compositional scheme, if nothing else, of Rubens' London peace allegory. This allegorical composition, with its rich diversity of figures, attests to a great familiarity with the baroque arsenal of allegorical figures. This painting is the oldest known example in a long series of pictures by van Thulden centring on political allegory, a genre with which he will have been particularly well acquainted given his active involvement in making the decorations for the Pompa Introitus Ferdinandi. Van Thulden's other painted allegorizations of war, peace and their consequences, however, were all executed after his return in 1643 to his native city of 's-Hertogenbosch, where he spent the rest of his days. The later scenes all have to do with the political situation in 's-Hertogenbosch and the Northern Netherlands around the time of, and after, the Peace of Münster, and will be left out of consideration here. [14]

Another painting by Cornelis Schut should be considered within the context of war and peace. This is the canvas in the Koninklijke Musea in Brussels, which may be quite specifically identified - thanks to the print engraved after it by Wenzel Hollar - as an allegory of the Peace of Westphalia. [15] This is clear from the caption to Hollar's print, which may be translated: "Thus peace opens its bountiful heart. May the benefits conferred by the Empire, by Spain and France, keep the Kings united and the people obedient under You, O Great Philip, and your flourishing line. Soon the war will be at an end, and with it all the evil of the iron age will make way for a fine golden age." [16] This text bears eloquent testimony to the sanguine hopes that were entertained of the approaching peace. The composition was apparently intended for a destination in the Southern Netherlands, as the Spanish King Philip IV, who was also, after all the governor-general of the Southern Netherlands, is exalted as the great peacemaker. Neither the painting nor the print is dated, but the style, which is suggestive of a crowded stage setting with its overemphasis on the drama and pathos of expression and particularly of gesture, is characteristic of Schut's oeuvre from the late 1640s. [17]

On the right sits Abundance, personified as a nude young woman with a cornucopia as her attribute. [18] To her left appear two female figures without identifying attributes, who are embracing and crowning each other with wreaths. This motif derives from "Peace and plenty in mutual embrace" from Rubens' "Boons of the government of James I", the central panel in Whitehall Ceiling, executed in 1629-1630. These two figures form, as it were, the logical link between Abundance and a second nude, who is seated at the centre of the representation and who should be regarded as Pax/Venus. Schut apparently based this on his older Abundance, in which he had however used a different pose.

Here, as in Rubens' London peace allegory, Pax/Venus is protected by Minerva, who directs her attention to a mirror reflecting the arms of the Empire, France and Spain intertwined, which putti are holding up on the right. Immediately before her, a cherub, who in this context must be interpreted as Venus's son Cupid, is fighting off harpies who appear to symbolize the final spasms of war. This motif is hence a highly suggestive evocation of the victory of the golden age of peace over the iron age of war, as so explicitly stated in the caption below the print. The state of peace is also evoked by the noteworthy presence of the river god on the right, who, by analogy with similar figures in earlier peace allegories, must be interpreted as Scaldis, and as such as an expression of a final and possibly desperate hope of economic revival. The presence of this river god, in particular, appears to justify the suspicion that Schut's commission for this fairly complex allegory came from Antwerp, although it is unfortunately impossible to ascertain what individual or institution may have given it. As far as one can judge on the basis of known archival sources, the painting does not appear to be related to the festivities held in Antwerp to mark the signing of the Peace of Münster in 1648, which will be discussed in a different connection below.

Finally, the two drawings by Jacob Jordaens - one of which is in a private collection in Brussels and the other is in the Pierpont Morgan Library in New York - may be regarded as a late echo of Rubens' peace allegory of 1629-1630: on stylistic grounds these sheets may be dated shortly before or after 1660. [19] Here too the beneficent effects of peace are illustrated graphically by a large crowd of adults and children offering baskets of fruit to a mythological figure, Minerva Pacifera, who dominates the scene with her stately presence. Whether this composition was related to the alternating war and peace that would continue to characterize the Southern Netherlands even after the signing of the Peace of Münster is impossible to discover. In any case, Jordaens' scene no more expressed the historical reality of the situation - which was closer to tragedy - than did the compulsory public festive decorations of the 1650s and 1660s, which will be dealt with below. [20]

For the sake of completeness, as far as the "positive" visualization of the theme of war and peace is concerned, a word should be said about another type of representation, whose roots also lie in Rubens' oeuvre, namely in the "Crowning of the victor," the well-known painting from ca. 1614 in the Staatliche Museen in Kassel. [21] While this work was intended, it is true, to glorify the guild of the Oude Voetboog, one of the six armed guilds of Antwerp's civic militias, it also had another significance: it has been shown that its specific iconography also alluded to the conclusion of peace, and that this layer of meaning cannot be understood outside its relationship to the Twelve Years' Peace, during which it was made. [22] Rubens conceived of a second version of this theme, which, however, he did not execute himself: this painting from ca. 1630 is in the Alte Pinakothek in Munich. [23] These two scenes were used as a point of departure by Cornelis de Vos (1584/5-1651), who was also intimately acquainted with Rubens' studio. De Vos's version of the subject dating from around 1626-1630 - now in Braunschweig - was indisputably based on Rubens' composition in Kassel. [24] But some ten years later he produced a different variation on the same theme, in a piece now in the Pinacoteca Vaticana, and here he also took his inspiration from Rubens' later composition in Munich. [25] It is not known whether de Vos, who produced a great deal for the free market and the art trade, made these two pictures for a specific occasion.

Perhaps it is understandable that people were less keen to see a pessimistic allegorization of the theme of war and peace in paintings than to see its optimistic counterpart, a piece that conveyed the joyous anticipation of a new golden age. As is known, the impressive acme of the negative variant was Rubens' "Horrors of War" in the Pitti Palace in Florence. [26] Rubens made this painting in 1637, having been commissioned to do so by Ferdinand II, Grand Duke of Tuscany, which means that it will scarcely have been seen in Antwerp outside his workshop. Nevertheless, recognizable traces of its influence can be found, in pieces made very soon after it was executed. Yet these pieces, strikingly enough, replace Rubens' pessimistic view with a different, more neutral context. For instance, Thomas Willeboirts Bosschaert (1614-1654), who collaborated with Rubens on several occasions in the 1630s, recognizably took Rubens' piece as the basis for his "Venus endeavours to restrain Mars" (1637-1638). This is apparent from the similar frieze-like structure, in which Venus, surrounded by weeping putti, tries in vain to dissuade Mars - pulled by a rabid fury - from unleashing the rage of battle. Whatever the correspondences, however, Willeboirts cast the composition in his own softer, more languorous style, that he had studied from van Dijck. The painting itself has been lost and can be assessed only indirectly. One may gain an idea of its appearance by looking at an oil sketch in a private German collection [27] and a later copy, possibly by Karel Eijckens the Younger (1719-1753), now in the museum of Bordeaux [28]: the compositions of both versions are similar, even in points of detail, to an old description of the original. Curiously enough, this scene was depicted without any direct connection to political events. It has been shown that the lost original of this picture was intended for the main hall of the Antwerp Arquebusiers' guild. [29] It is clear that the theme of Willeboirts Bosschaert's piece will have served in the first place as a reminder of the Arquebusiers' military duties. So here, a compositional scheme conceived by Rubens as a response to the contemporary state of war was used for a painting whose original function had little to do with the Eighty Years' War.



2. Festive decorations

Depictions of war and peace in the triumphal arches and stages set up in Flemish cities - especially in Antwerp - along streets and in public squares to celebrate joyeuses entrées or the signing of peace treaties obviously had everything to do with contemporary political events. [30] In these pictures too, Rubens served as a frequent source of inspiration. More specifically, the famous, epoch-making festive decorations that he had designed for Antwerp to celebrate the joyeuse entrée of Cardinal-Infante Ferdinand in 1635 played a particularly significant role. These had been a symbolic expression of the strong ties that the city felt with the Spanish Habsburg overlords. At the same time, however, the content of the decorations conveyed to the Habsburgs the frustrations of the population, especially their longing for peace and the upsurge in trade and prosperity they hoped it would bring. The most compelling scene of the entire Pompa Introitus Ferdinandi was perhaps the impressive ensemble showing Mercury, the god of trade, leaving the menaced and impoverished Antwerp, almost as an adjuration to the new governor-general to turn the tide without delay. [31]

The influence of this astounding ensemble immediately made itself felt. Grand triumphal arches were planned for Ferdinand's joyeuse entrée into Ghent at the same time as the decorations to be set up in Antwerp. Unlike Antwerp, however, which - in line with a long tradition - emphasized the economic boom that the new governor-general was expected to usher in, the accent in Ghent was largely on the glorification of his person. His deeds and qualities were compared typologically to relevant scenes from Greek mythology and Roman history, while Ferdinand himself was portrayed emphatically as a descendant of the Ghent-born emperor Charles V. Nevertheless, the elaboration of the Ghent programme would have been hard to imagine without the Antwerp decorations. Not only did it echo the Antwerp programme in incorporating a wealth of prefigurations from classical literature, but it also contained abundant allusions to Habsburg genealogy. Moreover, the way certain scenes were depicted in the Ghent programme would have been unthinkable without prior knowledge of the parallel scenes in Antwerp. Curiously, however, the Ghent joyeuse entrée took place before that in Antwerp. This means that the compositional similarities between certain scenes in the Antwerp decorations and parallel scenes on the Ghent arches can only be explained by assuming that the artists who executed the Ghent ensemble had an opportunity to become acquainted with Rubens' designs. This is not hard to believe once it is recalled that many of them, in particular Cornelis Schut, Theodoor Rombouts and Gerard Seghers, belonged to the group of painters that Rubens had enlisted to execute his designs for the Pompa Introitus Ferdinandi. [32] On the other hand, the actual architecture of the Ghent arches displayed no kinship whatsoever with Rubens' high baroque design, which was a new phenomenon in Antwerp too. The arches were designed by Jacques Francart in the same proto-baroque style that characterized his church façades. [33] The thematic programme of the Ghent decorations placed far greater emphasis on war than on peace. Ferdinand was glorified first and foremost as the victor of the Battle of Nördlingen, a theme that was also of importance in Antwerp. There was no allegorization of these events, however - merely a narrative exposition of the facts. This more prosaic interpretation was possibly related to the fact that while the Antwerp programme had been conceived by the erudite humanist Jan Caspar Gevartius (Govarts) and developed with all the imaginative power and empathy that Rubens' genius could bring to bear on it, the Ghent programme was merely based on a few dry indications provided by the Jesuit Becanus, without any great mind such as Rubens being present to mould it into a Gesamtkunstwerk charged with a compelling element of political propaganda.

After the Pompa Introitus Ferdinandi of 1635, it was twelve years before Antwerp had another opportunity to organize a festive programme of decorations to welcome a new governor-general. The man in question was Archduke Leopold Wilhelm, who retained his position as ruler until 1656, achieving a few modest military successes during the final stages of the Thirty Years' War while defending the southern borders of the Netherlands against the advancing French forces. Gevartius was once again involved in the design. [34] Initially, triumphal arches were also planned for Leopold Wilhelm. They were designed by Erasmus Quellinus the Younger (1607-1678) and derived recognizably, both in their arrangement and architectural structure, from Rubens' Arch of Ferdinand, made in 1635. The role that Leopold Wilhelm had played in relation to war and peace was to be conveyed by a narrative representation of the battles he had fought. These were combined with a limited number of allegorical psychomachia scenes, but also surmounted with scenes that emblematically depicted the Netherlands, the Habsburgs and the various positions and titles of the new governor-general. [35] A good example is Quellinus's design for the front of the "Arcus Belgicus," which particularly glorified the military exploits of Leopold Wilhelm in his defence of the southern borders of the Southern Netherlands. In the large central scene he was shown mounted as the man responsible for retaking Armentières. That this victory was a consequence of both military skill and indefatigable vigilance is demonstrated by the two allegorical figures flanking the main scene, representing Mars Gradivus and Vigilance.

Antwerp no longer had as much money in the treasury around 1648, however, as it had had in 1635, and was forced to prune the festivities surrounding the joyeuse entrée of the new governor-general to more affordable dimensions. The triumphal arches never materialized. In their place came five paintings by Quellinus, which were put up at strategic places around the city. One of the pictures installed in front of the town hall showed Archduke Leopold Wilhelm being crowned by a Victory. Before the entrance to the cathedral were depicted forefathers of the house of Habsburg who had distinguished themselves in the crusades: these were evidently intended as allusions to Leopold Wilhelm's spiritual role, for instance as grand master of the Teutonic Order. In this way one of the key elements of the Pompa Introitus Ferdinandi, the glorification of the governor-general's military deeds in combination with his Habsburg descent, was brought out with far less extravagance.

The cooperation between Gevartius and Quellinus was in essence the logical continuation of the fruitful collaboration between Rubens and Gevartius in 1635. Quellinus himself was one of Rubens' most influential assistants, and in his later years he was mainly occupied with the execution of ingenious allegorical title-pages after the master's invention. [36] The rest of Quellinus's work displays a similar familiarity with humanist ideas. So it is scarcely surprising that he should have remained, until his death, the official painter of allegorical decorations for ceremonial occasions in Antwerp, with Gevartius supplying the ideas and texts. [37] Soon after the ceremonial entry of Leopold Wilhelm came a fresh opportunity: on 5 June 1648, before the steps of the town hall, the Peace of Münster that had been signed on 31 January that year was proclaimed, and for this event too, Quellinus was commissioned, together with Gevartius, to make the festive decorations. But even the proclamation of this long-awaited peace was celebrated in a relatively sober style. For the Southern Netherlands, which remained under Spanish rule and were largely the losing party, the need to practise economy will have had a rueful symbolic resonance. [38]

In the Grote Markt in front of the town hall a stage was erected. We know what it looked like thanks to a commemorative print that Wenzel Hollar made to mark the proclamation of peace. But it is above all Quellinus's own existing oil sketch in grisaille that gives an accurate impression of the details. [39] The structure consisted of a large portico with five passageways, the central one being considerably wider and surmounted by a projecting triangular pediment. Here too, it is obvious that the architecture derives from Rubens' ideas. This gallery is unmistakably a more modest variant of Rubens' imperial portico from the 1635 programme of decorations. [40] The imposing exedra form has been replaced here, however, by a simple, straight construction with far fewer passageways. But the details of the ornamentation, especially the garlands hung from the archways, the balcony with candelabras and herm caryatids, all point to Rubens' ultra-plastic and colourful interpretation of architecture. This comparison also brings out the ways in which this structure differs from those of Rubens: the architectural elements here are more austere, with geometrical accents, in line with the classicist approach of Quellinus himself, whose entire oeuvre shows him to be a painter who interprets Rubens' imagery in classicist baroque style. [41]

This austere classicist approach is also apparent from the sawn and painted figures that embellished the structure. The primary element consisted of a large enthroned Pax dominating the central ressault, flanked by the personifications Justice and Abundance, representing the benefits conferred by Pax. This part of the ensemble has been preserved. [42] The termini that appear to support the structure consisted mainly of gods reinforcing the idea that peace would restore prosperity and give a fresh impulse to the arts: they include Mercury Pacifer, Apollo and Ceres. Then there is Hercules - one of the mythological figures to whom the Habsburgs particularly liked to see themselves compared. But in this context he is also associated with Leopold Wilhelm. For according to Pindarus and Pausanias, it was Hercules who brought that supreme symbol of peace, the olive branch, from the sources of the Danube. This is an unequivocal metaphor for the new governor-general, who himself came from the Danube region and had brought peace with him. [43] The universal happiness this occasioned is symbolized by the personification Laetitia Publica (= public joy). A detailed explanation of this choice of motifs and their specific meaning within the context of the peace decorations is given in Gevartius' programme, which was published separately in 1648. [44] The leanness of the 1648 peace stage makes a stark contrast with the festive decorations of 1635, and even with those for Leopold Wilhelm's joyeuse entrée. Rubens' ingenious dramatization of the war and peace theme has been completely replaced here with a humdrum application of Cesare Ripa's iconological vade-mecum.

The political equanimity that will have been the dominant note in the Southern Netherlands after the peace of Münster seems to have been reflected in the public decorations made to mark various occasions in the second half of the century, all of which were conspicuous for their lack of fresh ideas. Yet Flemish history painters - or the most prominent among them - were commissioned around the mid-seventeenth century to produce important allegorical cycles abroad. In particular, mention should be made of the ensemble made for Huis ten Bosch in The Hague in 1648-1651, with Jordaens, van Thulden and Willeboirts Bosschaert, among others, collaborating with Dutch fellow-artists to produce a sumptuous programme based in part on Rubens' cycles of political allegory, such as the Medici series and the Pompa Introitus Ferdinandi. In this programme too, war and peace played an important role, though no longer as a glorification of Spanish Habsburg authority. [45]

In Antwerp, however, the joyeuse entrée of Don Juan of Austria, who succeeded Leopold Wilhelm in 1657, became - literally - a repeat performance of the peace stage of 1648. [46] An edict was promulgated immediately following Leopold Wilhelm's departure from Brussels to ensure that the festivities celebrating the advent of a new governor-general were kept to far more modest proportions, given the dire straits in which the city's finances continued to languish. [47] Quellinus designed a construction almost identical to the 1648 stage, except that it was somewhat larger and more monumental in execution and was decorated with different allegorical figures (though arranged in the same way as those of 1648) that were more specifically related to the new governor-general. Don Juan himself was shown in a triumphalist pose - mounted on a rearing horse - atop the central ressault, and undoubtedly served as the focal point of the whole. [48] The herm caryatids and the scenes on the plinths illuminate a programme that is in other respects almost identical to that of the 1648 peace stage, with the labours of Hercules prefiguring the Habsburgs and their deeds, and Mercury, Neptune and Apollo as references to the revival of trade and culture achieved by the grace of the new governor-general. This rhetoric stood in stark contrast to reality. The long-cherished dreams of peace, that had briefly seemed to be fulfilled, were soon shattered again, as the war with France dragged on. Nor was the 1657 stage entirely devoid of references to the war: it included the figure of Nemesis, with an inscription describing Don Juan as her instrument, which can only be a reference to the handful of fairly insignificant military victories he had managed to achieve against the French armies.

Perhaps it was in part a fresh upsurge of hope that caused Antwerp city council to make more of an effort in 1660. This was the year in which the Peace of the Pyrenees was consolidated by Louis XIV's marriage to Marie-Thérèse, infanta of Spain. Once again Quellinus drew a design, on the basis of which a stage was erected much like that of 1648. [49] There was one major difference, however: the 1660 stage was richly decorated with paintings, also by Quellinus, displayed on both floors of the structure and above the central ressault. The lowest row of paintings, in the gallery proper, were portraits of the sovereigns of France and Spain. More ingenious, however, were the paintings on the top and sides of the crowning ressault. The large painting that Quellinus had affixed to this ressault depicted, once more, the dramatic expulsion of war. Mars and Bellona, the gods of war, are driven out with their band of furies by Pax and Hymen, the god of marriage, who descends from the clouds. [50] At the bottom of the painting is shown how the newly concluded peace and the joining of the former enemies France and Spain could lead to the creation of a new Christian army that could advance against the Turkish fleet. The crucial importance of the recent marriage to this peace and the ensuing benefits is given added emphasis in the large piece surmounting the ressault. [51] This again shows Hymen, the god of marriage, with his attribute, the burning torch of matrimony. Together with putti he prepares the royal nuptial couch. At the very top Hesperus beams down, here with a dual significance: besides his association with marriage, as the Star of Venus, he also represents Spain.

The hoped-for peace did not materialize, however. In September 1665 Philip IV died and Louis XIV immediately seized the opportunity to lay claim to the Netherlands, as the late Spanish king's son-in-law. By then a new governor-general had arrived in the Netherlands. On 17 August 1665 Francisco de Moura-Cortereal, marquis of Castel-Rodrigo in Antwerp, was welcomed as the new Spanish governor-general (though he had in fact taken up office twelve months before). Castel-Rodrigo was a highly experienced military leader, and he clearly intended to ward off the new threat from France. However, the army and system of defences that he had at his disposal in the Southern Netherlands were in a state of complete disarray - nor could he do much about it, as Spain was virtually incapable of giving the necessary support. The Southern Netherlands was thus defenceless, and Louis XIV lost no time in exploiting the situation. In 1667 he invaded with a large army, and succeeded in taking a large number of cities without encountering much opposition. There was a brief respite when the alarmed United Provinces and Great Britain managed to persuade Louis to sign the Peace of Aachen, in which he moderated his demands somewhat. Totally frustrated by the thankless responsibility that he had to bear in the name of Spain, Castel-Rodrigo had himself recalled in 1669.

The arrival of Castel-Rodrigo was the last occasion on which Antwerp celebrated the joyeuse entrée of a governor-general with pomp and ceremony. [52] His excellent military reputation evidently inspired some little hope in the city, as may be inferred from the life-size allegorical portrait of him that was painted by Quellinus and hung, together with two other paintings, in the portal of the cathedral. Two of these paintings can still be appraised on the basis of the engravings made after them, which were inserted in the journal drawn up by Gevartius. In the case of the print of the allegorical portrait, Quellinus' own drawn modello has also been preserved. [53] It depicts the new governor-general in a full suit of armour and in a pose that clearly derives from the martial contrapposto attitude of the Cardinal-Infante in a woodcut made in 1635 by Christoffel Jegher after a drawing by Quellinus himself. [54] This warrior-like pose was a very deliberate choice, as is explicitly made clear by the two mythological figures shown crowning Castel-Rodrigo with laurel wreaths: to the left is Mercury Pacifer, while on the right stands Minerva with her helmet and her shield with its terrifying gorgon's head. The two gods are apparently intended to suggest that Castel-Rodrigo would have fine defences at his disposal to consolidate peace in the Netherlands. The static pose of the figures that frame this portrait give the piece the distinct appearance of an enlarged title-page, many of which Quellinus had designed, initially after rough sketches by Rubens. Because of this, this specimen of political propaganda has the same austere symmetrical aspect of prints of this kind, with their emblematic resonance. The same static effect is created by the other large portrait that Quellinus painted as a counterpart to this one, depicting Philip IV with his successor prince Charles, to whom the provinces of the Netherlands are paying tribute. In this case too, we have both the engraving and the modello drawn for it. [55] The primary emphasis here is on the dynastic continuity of the House of Habsburg, and not on war or peace. But possibly this loud praise of the ruling House of Habsburg could also be interpreted as an adjuration of the future, for which Louis XIV was forging very different plans.

This time, it seems, no stage was erected in front of the town hall. Perhaps this too was a direct consequence of the communication that had already been received from Brussels urging sobriety, as the public finances were still in a lamentable state. After Castel-Rodrigo's departure, festive decorations for joyeuses entrées would be confined to the mechanical replacement of the arms of the previous representative of the king's authority displayed at Sint Jorispoort with those of his successor. This ended a long tradition in which prominent artists of Antwerp were encouraged to use all their ingenuity in the creation of allegorical compositions, which expressed, in a complex yet intelligible manner, the hope of lasting peace and the revival of trade and the arts that peace would bring to Antwerp. The loss of this tradition may be seen as symbolic of the state of cultural and economic stagnation and barrenness into which the Southern Netherlands sank ever deeper after the Peace of Münster.

FOOTNOTES