The Lombards, when invading Northern Italy, brought with them a mighty smith, Paul the Deacon, who had much skill with the hammer. When these rude Norsemen found themselves among the aesthetic treasures of Byzantium, and saw the fair Italian marbles, and the stately work of Theodoric and Justinian, they were inflamed with zeal for artistic expression, and began to hew and carve rough but spirited forms out of the Pisan and Carrara stones. The animals which they sculptured were, as Ruskin has said, “all alive: hungry and fierce, wild, with a life-like spring.” The Byzantine work was quiescent: the designs formal, decent, and monumental. But the Lombards threw into their work their own restless energy, and some of their cruelty and relentlessness. Queen Theodolinda, in her palace at Monza, encouraged the arts; it was because of her appreciative comprehension of such things that St. Gregory sent her the famous Iron Crown, of which a description has been given, on the occasion of the baptism of her son. Under the influence of these subsequently civilized barbarians many of the greatest specimens of carving in North Italy came into being. The most delightful little stumpy saints and sacred emblems may be found on the facade of St. Michele at Pavia, and also at Lucca, and on the Baptistery at Parma. The sculptor who produced these works at Parma was a very interesting craftsman, named Antelami. His Descent from the Cross is one of the most striking pieces of early sculpture before the Pisani. He lived in the twelfth century. The figures are of Byzantine proportions and forms, but have a good deal of grace and suggestion of movement.
Among the early names known in Italy is that of Magister Orso, of Verona. Another, in the ninth century, was Magister Pacifico, and in the twelfth there came Guglielmus, who carved the charming naive wild hunting scenes on the portal of St. Zeno of Verona. These reliefs represent Theodoric on horseback, followed by an able company of men and horses which, according to legend, were supplied by the infernal powers. The eyes of these fugitives have much expression, being rendered with a drill, and standing out in the design as little black holes—fierce and effective.
There is a fine round window at St. Zeno at Verona, designed and executed by one Briolottus, which, intended to represent the Wheel of Fortune, is decorated all over with little clinging figures, some falling and some climbing, and has the motto: “I elevate some mortals and depose others: I give good or evil to all: I clothe the naked and strip the clothed: in me if any one trust he will be turned to derision.”