VI Saint Christopher
There was once in the land of Canaan a giant named Offero, which means “the bearer.” His colossal size and tremendous strength made him an object of terror to all beholders, and he determined to serve none but the most powerful being in the world.
He accordingly joined the retinue of a great king, and for a while all went well. One day while listening to a minstrel’s song, the king trembled and crossed himself every time the singer mentioned the Devil. “Then,” thought Offero, “there is one more powerful than the King; and he it is whom I should serve.” So he went in search of the Devil, and soon entered the ranks of his army.
One day as they came to a wayside cross he noticed his master tremble and turn aside. “Then,” thought Offero, “there is one more powerful than the Devil, and he it is whom I should serve.” He now learned that this greater being whom the Devil feared was Jesus, who died on the cross, and he earnestly sought to know the new Master.
An old hermit undertook to instruct him in the faith. “You must fast,” said he. “That I will not,” said Offero, “lest I lose my strength.” “You must pray,” said the hermit. “That I cannot,” said Offero. “Then,” said the hermit, “go to the river side and save those who perish in the stream.” “That I will,” said Offero joyfully.
The giant built him a hut on the bank and rooted up a palm tree from the forest to use as a staff. Day and night he guided strangers across the ford and carried the weak on his shoulders. He never wearied of his labor.
One night as he rested in his hut he heard a child’s voice calling to him from the shore, “Offero, come forth, and carry me over.” He arose and went out, but seeing nothing returned and lay down. Again the voice called, “Offero, come forth and carry me over.” Again he went out and saw no one. A third time the voice came, “Offero, come forth, and carry me over.”
The giant now took a lantern, and by its light found a little child sitting on the bank, repeating the cry, “Offero, carry me over.” Offero lifted the child to his great shoulders, and taking his staff strode into the river. The wind blew, the waves roared, and the water rose higher and higher, yet the giant pushed bravely on. The burden which had at first seemed so light grew heavier and heavier. Offero’s strong knees bent under him, and it seemed as if he would sink beneath the load. Yet on he pressed with tottering steps, never complaining, until at last the farther bank was reached. Here he set his precious burden gently down, and looking with wonder at the child, asked, “Who art thou, child? The burden of the world had not been heavier.” “Wonder not,” said the Child, “for thou hast borne on thy shoulders him who made the world.” Then a bright light shone about the little face, and in another moment the mysterious stranger had vanished. Thus was it made known to Offero that he had been taken into the service of the most powerful being in the world. From this time forth he was known as Christ-offero, or Christopher, the Christ-bearer. 11
With this story in mind we readily see the meaning of our picture. The giant has reached mid-stream, with his tiny passenger perched astride his shoulders. Already the burden has become mysteriously heavy, and Offero bends forward to support the strain, staying himself with his great staff. He lifts his face to the child’s with an expression of mingled anguish and wonder.
The situation is full of strange pathos. The babe seems so small and helpless beside the splendid muscular strength of the brawny giant. Yet he is here the leader. With uplifted hand he seems to be cheering his bearer on the toilsome way.
The figures in the picture seem to be taken from common every-day life. Some Venetian boatman may have been the painter’s model for St. Christopher, whose attitude is similar to that of a gondolier plying his oar. The child, too, is a child of the people, a sturdy little fellow, quite at ease in his perilous position. We shall understand better the range of Titian’s art by contrasting these more commonplace figures with the refined and elegant types we see in some of our other illustrations.
The picture of St. Christopher is a fresco painting on the walls of the palace of the doges or dukes in Venice. It was originally designed to celebrate the arrival of the French army in 1523, at an Italian town called San Cristoforo. It is so placed that it might be the first object seen every morning when the doge left his bed-chamber. This was on account of an old tradition that the sight of St. Christopher always gives courage to the beholder. “Whoever shall behold the image of St. Christopher, on that day shall not faint or fail,” runs an old Latin inscription.
As fresco painting was a method of art comparatively unfamiliar to Titian, it is interesting to know than an eminent critic pronounces our picture “broad and solid in execution, rich and brilliant in color.” 12 We see from our reproduction that the paint has flaked from the wall in a few places.