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Appendix

A. EARLY DRAWING BY HOLBEIN IN THE 323 MAXIMILIANS MUSEUM, AUGSBURG (Vol. i. p. 43)

B. DESIGNS FOR PAINTED GLASS OF THE LUCERNE 323 PERIOD (Vol. i. p. 79)

C. EARLY DRAWINGS FOR WALL-PAINTINGS (Vol. 326 i. p. 101)

D. GLASS DESIGNS WITH THE COATS OF ARMS OF 326 THE VON ANDLAU AND VON HEWEN FAMILIES (Vol. i. p. 145)

THE GLASS DESIGNS OF “THE PASSION OF 327 CHRIST” (Vol. i. p. 156)

E. THE FAESCH MUSEUM (Vol. i. pp. 88, 328 166-8, 180, and 239-41)

F. HANS HOLBEIN AND DR. JOHANN FABRI (Vol. 330 i. p. 175)

G. THE TRADE-MARK OF REINHOLD WOLFE (Vol. 332 i. p. 202)

H. NICOLAS BELLIN OF MODENA (Vol. i. pp. 333 282-4)

I. THE MORE FAMILY GROUP (Vol. i. pp. 334 291-302)

THE PORTRAIT OF SIR THOMAS MORE (Vol. i. 340 pp. 303-4)

J. HOLBEIN’S RETURN TO ENGLAND IN 1532 340 (Vol. i. p. 352)

K. LORD ARUNDEL AND REMBRANDT AS COLLECTORS 341 OF HOLBEIN’S PICTURES (Vol. ii. p. 66)

THE PORTRAITS OF SIR NICHOLAS POYNTZ 342 (Vol. ii. p. 71-72)

L. HOLBEIN’S VISIT TO JOINVILLE AND NANCY 343 IN 1538 (Vol. ii. pp. 148-149)

M. HOLBEIN’S STUDIO IN WHITEHALL (Vol. ii. 344 p. 185)

THE BARBER-SURGEONS’ PICTURE (Vol. ii. 346 p. 294)

SUMMARY LIST OF HOLBEIN’S CHIEF PICTURES AND 347 PORTRAITS

PICTURES BY AND ATTRIBUTED TO HOLBEIN, AND OF 359 HIS SCHOOL AND PERIOD, EXHIBITED AT VARIOUS EXHIBITIONS BETWEEN 1846 AND 1912

I. THE BRITISH INSTITUTION, 1846 359

II. ART TREASURES OF THE UNITED KINGDOM 360 COLLECTED AT MANCHESTER IN 1857

III. SPECIAL EXHIBITION OF WORKS OF ART, 361 SOUTH KENSINGTON MUSEUM, JUNE, 1862

IV. SPECIAL EXHIBITION OF PORTRAIT 362 MINIATURES ON LOAN AT THE SOUTH KENSINGTON MUSEUM, JUNE, 1865

V. FIRST SPECIAL EXHIBITION OF NATIONAL 363 PORTRAITS ENDING WITH THE REIGN OF KING JAMES THE SECOND ON LOAN TO THE SOUTH KENSINGTON MUSEUM, 1866

VI. THIRD AND CONCLUDING EXHIBITION OF 367 NATIONAL PORTRAITS ON LOAN TO THE SOUTH KENSINGTON MUSEUM, APRIL, 1868

VII. ROYAL ACADEMY OF ARTS, WINTER 368 EXHIBITIONS OF WORKS BY THE OLD MASTERS, 1870-1912

VIII. GROSVENOR GALLERY, WINTER EXHIBITION OF 374 DRAWINGS BY THE OLD MASTERS, 1878-79

IX. EXHIBITION OF THE ROYAL HOUSE OF TUDOR. 374 NEW GALLERY, 1890

X. EXHIBITION OF THE ROYAL HOUSE OF TUDOR. 381 CORPORATION OF MANCHESTER ART GALLERY, 1897

XI. NEW GALLERY, WINTER EXHIBITION, 1901-2. 382 MONARCHS OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND

XII. LOAN COLLECTION OF PORTRAITS OF ENGLISH 383 HISTORICAL PERSONAGES WHO DIED PRIOR TO THE YEAR 1625. OXFORD, 1904

XIII. EXHIBITION ILLUSTRATIVE OF EARLY ENGLISH 384 PORTRAITURE. BURLINGTON FINE ARTS CLUB, 1909

XIV. PICTURES BY OR ATTRIBUTED TO HOLBEIN, 386 DESCRIBED BY DR. WAAGEN IN HIS “TREASURES OF ART IN GREAT BRITAIN,” 1854

A SHORT BIBLIOGRAPHY 390

INDEX 401

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ILLUSTRATIONS

KING HENRY VIII Frontispiece Reproduced in colour, by kind permission of Earl Spencer, G.C.V.O. Althorp.

1. GEORG GISZE (1532) 4 Reproduced in colour. Kaiser Friedrich Museum, Berlin.

2. HANS OF ANTWERP (1532) 8 Reproduced by gracious permission of H.M. the King. Windsor Castle.

3. HERMANN HILLEBRANDT WEDIG (1533) 17 Reproduced in colour. Kaiser Friedrich Museum, Berlin.

4. (1) DERICH BORN (1533) 18 Reproduced by gracious permission of H.M. the King. Windsor Castle.

(2) DERICH TYBIS (1533) 18 Imperial Gallery, Vienna.

5. DERICH BERCK (1536) 22 Reproduced by kind permission of Lord Leconfield. Petworth, Sussex.

6. THE TRIUMPH OF RICHES 26 Design for the wall-decoration in the Guildhall of the London Steelyard Merchants. Pen-and-wash drawing heightened with white Louvre, Paris.

7. THE TRIUMPH OF POVERTY 27 Seventeenth-century copy, by Jan de Bisschop, of the wall-decoration in the Guildhall of the London Steelyard Merchants. British Museum.

8. APOLLO AND THE MUSES 31 Design for the decoration of the Steelyard on the occasion of the coronation of Anne Boleyn. Pen-and-wash drawing touched with green. Royal Print Room, Berlin.

9. THE TWO AMBASSADORS: JEAN DE DINTEVILLE 36 AND GEORGE DESELVE (1533) Reproduced in colour. National Gallery, London.

10. PORTRAIT OF A MUSICIAN 52 Reproduced by kind permission of Sir John Ramsden, Bt. Bulstrode Park, Bucks.

11. ROBERT CHESEMAN (1533) 54 Reproduced in colour. _Royal Picture Gallery, Mauritshuis, The Hague._

12. CHARLES DE SOLIER, SIEUR DE MORETTE 63 Royal Picture Gallery, Dresden.

13. TITLE-PAGE OF COVERDALE’S BIBLE (1535) 76 Woodcut. From a copy in the British Museum.

14. SIR THOMAS WYAT 79 Drawing in black and coloured chalks. Reproduced by gracious permission of H.M. the King. Windsor Castle.

15. PORTRAIT OF A LADY, PROBABLY MARGARET 82 WYAT, LADY LEE Until recently in the collection of Major Charles Palmer, by whose kind permission it is reproduced. _Mr. Benjamin Altman’s Collection, New York._

16. SIR RICHARD SOUTHWELL (1536) 84 Reproduced in colour. Uffizi Gallery, Florence.

17. SIR NICHOLAS CAREW 87 Drawing in black and coloured chalks. Reproduced in colour. Public Picture Collection, Basel.

18. HENRY VII AND HENRY VIII 97 Cartoon for the Whitehall wall-painting. Reproduced by kind permission of the Duke of Devonshire, G.C.V.O. _Chatsworth, formerly at Hardwick Hall._

19. HENRY VIII 102 National Gallery, Rome.

20. QUEEN JANE SEYMOUR 111 Reproduced in colour. Imperial Gallery, Vienna.

21. THE DUCHESS OF MILAN (1538) 128 Reproduced in colour. National Gallery, London.

22. EDWARD VI WHEN PRINCE OF WALES (1538-9) 165 Reproduced by kind permission of the Earl of Yarborough. Earl of Yarborough’s Collection.

23. EDWARD VI, WHEN PRINCE OF WALES 167 Drawing in black and coloured chalks. Reproduced by gracious permission of H.M. the King. Windsor Castle.

24. QUEEN ANNE OF CLEVES (1539) 181 Reproduced in colour. Louvre, Paris.

25. THOMAS HOWARD, DUKE OF NORFOLK 197 Reproduced in colour, by gracious permission of H.M. the King. Windsor Castle.

26. HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY 200 Drawing in black and coloured chalks. Reproduced by gracious permission of H.M. the King. Windsor Castle.

27. PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN YOUNG MAN (1541) 202 Reproduced in colour. Imperial Gallery, Vienna.

28. PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN YOUNG MAN WITH A 203 FALCON (1542) Reproduced in colour. _Royal Picture Gallery, Mauritshuis, The Hague._

29. (1) PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN ELDERLY MAN 205 Kaiser Friedrich Museum, Berlin.

(2) PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN ENGLISH LADY 205 Imperial Gallery, Vienna.

30. DR. JOHN CHAMBER 208 Imperial Gallery, Vienna.

31. MINIATURES 222 (1) HENRY BRANDON. (2) CHARLES BRANDON. (3) LADY AUDLEY. (4) QUEEN CATHERINE HOWARD. Reproduced by gracious permission of H.M. the King. Windsor Castle.

(5) PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN YOUTH. Reproduced by gracious permission of H.M. the Queen of Holland. Royal Palace, The Hague.

(6) THOMAS CROMWELL, EARL OF ESSEX. Reproduced by kind permission of the late Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan. New York.

32. STUDY FOR THE PORTRAIT OF A FAMILY GROUP 226 Indian-ink wash drawing with brush outline. British Museum.

33. MINIATURES 228 (1) MRS. ROBERT PEMBERTON. Reproduced by kind permission of the late Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan. New York.

(2) HANS HOLBEIN: SELF-PORTRAIT. Wallace Collection.

34. (1) UNKNOWN ENGLISHMAN. (2) WILLIAM (1) PARR, MARQUIS OF NORTHAMPTON 256 Drawings in black and coloured chalks. (2) Reproduced by gracious permission of 256 H.M. the King. Windsor Castle.

35. THOMAS, LORD VAUX 257 Drawing in black and coloured chalks. Reproduced by gracious permission of H.M. the King. Windsor Castle.

36. (1) UNKNOWN MAN, SAID TO BE JEAN DE (1) DINTEVILLE (2) MARY ZOUCH 257 Drawings in black and coloured chalks. (2) Reproduced by gracious permission of 257 H.M. the King. Windsor Castle.

37. (1) LADY AUDLEY. (2) LADY MEUTAS (1) Drawings in black and coloured chalks. 257 Reproduced by gracious permission of (2) H.M. the King. 257 Windsor Castle.

38. “THE LADY HENEGHAM”: POSSIBLY MARGARET 258 ROPER Drawing in black and coloured chalks. Reproduced by gracious permission of H.M. the King. Windsor Castle.

39. PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN YOUNG MAN 259 Drawing in black and coloured chalks. Reproduced in colour. Public Picture Collection, Basel.

40. THE QUEEN OF SHEBA’S VISIT TO KING 262 SOLOMON Silver-point drawing washed with colour. Reproduced by gracious permission of H.M. the King. Windsor Castle.

41. QUEEN JANE SEYMOUR’S CUP 274 Pen-and-ink drawing. British Museum.

42. HANS OF ANTWERP’S CUP 275 Pen-and-wash drawing. Public Picture Collection, Basel.

43. SIR ANTHONY DENNY’S CLOCK 276 Indian-ink wash and pen drawing. British Museum.

44. DESIGN FOR A DAGGER HILT AND SHEATH 277 Pen-and-ink and Indian-ink wash drawing. British Museum.

45. (1) DAGGER SHEATH WITH FOLIATED ORNAMENT 278 (DATED 1529). (2) UPRIGHT BAND OF ORNAMENT: PIPER AND BEARS. (3) DAGGER SHEATH WITH THE “JUDGMENT OF PARIS” Public Picture Collection, Basel.

46. (1) DAGGER SHEATH WITH A DANCE OF DEATH. 278 (2) DAGGER SHEATH WITH A ROMAN TRIUMPH. (3) DAGGER SHEATH WITH “JOSHUA’S PASSAGE OF THE JORDAN” Public Picture Collection, Basel.

47. FIVE DESIGNS FOR DAGGER HILTS 278 British Museum.

48. EIGHT DESIGNS FOR PENDANTS AND ORNAMENTS 279 British Museum.

49. NINE DESIGNS FOR PENDANTS 279 British Museum.

50. NINE DESIGNS FOR MEDALLIONS OR ENSEIGNES 280 British Museum.

51. (1) BAND OF ORNAMENT: CHILDREN AT PLAY. 282 (2) BAND OF ORNAMENT: CHILDREN AND DOGS HUNTING A HARE Public Picture Collection, Basel.

(3) DESIGN FOR A COLLAR, WITH NYMPHS AND 282 SATYRS. (4) DESIGN FOR A CHAIN. (5) DESIGN FOR A BRACELET OR COLLAR WITH DIAMONDS AND PEARLS. British Museum.

52. DESIGNS FOR ARABESQUE ENAMEL ORNAMENTS 282 British Museum.

53. DESIGNS FOR MEDALLIONS, &c. 285 (1) HAGAR AND ISHMAEL. (2) THE LAST JUDGMENT. (3) ICARUS. (4) DIANA AND ACTÆON. (5) CUPID AND BEES. (6) “I AWAIT THE HOUR.” (7) THE RAPE OF HELEN. Reproduced by kind permission of the Duke of Devonshire. Chatsworth.

54. HENRY VIII GRANTING A CHARTER TO THE 288 BARBER-SURGEONS’ COMPANY Reproduced by kind permission of the Barber-Surgeons’ Company. Barber-Surgeons’ Hall, London.

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Hans Holbein the Younger

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XVI. THE MERCHANTS OF THE STEELYARD

The German Steelyard in London, and Holbein’s connection with its members—Portraits of Georg Gisze—Hans of Antwerp—The Wedighs—Derich Born—Derich Tybis—Cyriacus Fallen—Derich Berck—“The Triumph of Riches”—“The Triumph of Poverty”—Triumphal arch designed by Holbein for the Steelyard on the occasion of Queen Anne Boleyn’s coronation.

THERE is no record to show in what part of London Holbein took up his residence upon his return to England. Possibly he may have settled in the house in the parish of St. Andrew Undershaft, in Aldgate Ward, in which he was residing in 1541; or there may be some truth in the tradition recorded by Walpole[1] that he lived for a time in a house on London Bridge, in close proximity to the Steelyard, where he was much occupied in painting various members of that colony of German merchants for the next year or two. There is nothing to indicate that he returned to Chelsea, for the purpose of finishing the More family picture, or that he received further commissions from Sir Thomas and his immediate circle of friends. During Holbein’s absence in Basel More had been made Lord Chancellor, but had resigned that office on May 16th, 1532, which was about the time of Holbein’s return to London. More, a generous man, had not amassed wealth in the public service, and on relinquishing office and the salary it carried with it, retired into private life on a modest income, not sufficient to permit a lavish patronage of art. Two other members of the More circle, and good friends to Holbein, Sir Henry Guldeford, and Archbishop Warham, died in the same year, the former in May and the latter in August, and thus the painter lost two other patrons immediately after his return. A certain John Wolf was the painter employed to provide the escutcheons, banners, and other decorations for Guldeford’s funeral.[2]

Footnote 1:

Anecdotes, &c., ed. Wornum, 1888, vol. i. 86, note.

Footnote 2:

C.L.P., v. 1064.

Whether Holbein’s appearance amid entirely new surroundings was due to these events is doubtful. It is natural to suppose that he would turn instinctively towards a society of fellow-countrymen, speaking the same language, and of similar habits and modes of thought, with whom he would feel most at home, men of comfortable fortunes, well able to afford the luxury of sitting for their portraits, and with the means also of finding him other remunerative work.

These merchants of the Hanseatic League in London formed a rich corporation of considerable numerical strength, whose beginnings went back to the very early days of English history. Some of its most valuable privileges and trading monopolies were granted it by Richard I and Edward III, in return for moneys lent, monopolies which hampered English trade for centuries afterwards. This colony had always occupied a part of the river bank above London Bridge, on the site of what is now the South-Eastern Railway Station in Cannon Street.[3] Their buildings were surrounded by a turreted wall, which stretched from the river northward to Thames Street, and from Allhallows Street on the east to Cosin (Cousins) Lane on the west, their property extending towards Dowgate. Entrance in the principal front in Thames Street was by three fortified gateways, above which the Imperial double-eagle floated, and within stood their old stone Guildhall, with a pleasant garden planted on one side with fruit trees and vines after the fashion of their fatherland, and, to the west of the main gate, vaults where Rhenish wine and other foreign delicacies were sold, a favourite place of resort for English citizens as well as foreigners. It has been generally supposed that its name, the Steelyard, or Stahlhof, arose from the great weighing-machine or steelyard which stood within its entrance.[4] The Guildhall and Council Chamber were situated in the western corner on Thames Street, and several passages, including Windgoose Alley, ran from that street to the river, giving access to the shops and small houses, the latter usually consisting of a bedroom and sitting-room for the merchant, and, at the back, stores and apartments for clerks and workmen. The corporation was a close one, and the rules by which its members were bound were as strict as those of a monastery. Within its precincts women were strictly forbidden; all married members had to live outside the walls, nor were guests allowed to lodge there unless also of the Hanseatic community. Each night at nine the gates were shut, and the Steelyard was then like a small walled German town in the midst of London. The breaking of its laws, or the practice of any bad habits, was followed by severe punishment. Its members, too, were obliged to take their share in the wider civic life of London. The Steelyard was represented by an Alderman and a Deputy, and, among other duties, each merchant had his allotted post in case of war, and was obliged to keep the necessary arms ready for the defence of the city.

Footnote 3:

The buildings of the Steelyard were finally pulled down in the autumn of 1863, and the ground was excavated immediately afterwards. The Cannon Street Railway Station covers approximately the whole site of the Steelyard except the strip on the north front cut off for the widening of Upper Thames Street. See Philip Norman, “Notes on the Later History of the Steelyard in London,” Archæologia, vol. lxi. pt. ii. (1909), pp. 389-426; Wykeham Archer, Once a Week, vol. v. (1861); J. E. Price, Transactions of the London and Middlesex Archæological Society, vol. iii. 67 (1870). See also for the whole history of the Steelyard, Lappenberg, Urkundliche Geschichte des Hansischen Stahlhofes zu London, Hamburg, 1851.

Footnote 4:

Dr. Norman, however, considers that it has nothing to do with a weighing-machine, but that it is an Anglicised form of the German “Stahlhof.” See his paper in Archæologia, quoted on the preceding page.

Their privileges were so great that they had always been unpopular, and this dislike grew in strength until the reign of Henry VIII, when the first attempts were made to break up their monopolies, which ended, some sixty years later, in their complete overthrow. When Holbein first came among them, however, they still occupied the foremost place in the commercial life of London, and were an exceedingly rich and prosperous community. They served the King and Court in more ways than one, for they were constantly made use of for the despatch of letters abroad and for the translation of communications received from foreign countries. They made arrangements with their agents in Europe for the payment of the diets and other expenses of Henry’s ambassadors and special messengers, and much confidential continental news was received through their business houses. Books, prints, and various rare and artistic objects were also forwarded to them for delivery to the English court. Thomas Cromwell, in particular, made much use of them in the sending and receiving of foreign correspondence. They also entertained all important visitors, artists, craftsmen, and others of their own countrymen who visited England.

Holbein, however, does not appear to have come into contact with them during his first visit to England; no portrait, at least, of a Steelyard merchant of that date has survived, though he painted Niklaus Kratzer, who must have known many of them intimately. Possibly his introduction to them in 1532 was due to his friendship with the German astronomer. In any case, between 1532 and 1536, he painted a considerable number of them, chiefly small half-length portraits, in which the sitter is shown in his own room or office, dressed in sober black, with the accessories of his work scattered round him, and with letters in front of him containing his name and his address at the Steelyard. These portraits were most probably painted for presentation by the sitters to the League of which they were leading members, to be hung on the walls of the Council Chamber of their Guildhall, rather than for the purpose of sending them to family relations abroad. This would account for the presence of several of them in England to-day, for when the Guild was finally broken up in 1598 and much of its property scattered far and wide, some of the portraits remained in this country while others found their way abroad.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF GEORG GISZE]

The portrait of Georg Gisze, now in the Berlin Museum (No. 586) (Pl. 1),[5] was one of the first, if not the first, of these likenesses of Steelyard merchants to be painted by Holbein. This portrait is not only the most elaborate work of the whole series, but the sitter was also one of the most important members of the League then in London. His name is spelt in more than one way on the picture itself, and other versions of it are to be found in the English State Papers. In the letter from his brother, which he holds in his hand, he is addressed, according to the Berlin Catalogue, as Jerg Gisze. The full address is “Dem erszamen Jergen Gisze to lunden in engelant mynen broder to handen.” Below the motto on the wall, beneath the shelf on the left—“Nulla sine merore voluptas”—in the sitter’s own handwriting, is the signature G. Gisze or Gyze. It has been read both ways, for the second letter may be taken either as an i followed by a long s, or, as two connected strokes representing the letter y. On other letters from foreign correspondents, tucked behind the wall-rails on the right, his name is also spelt Gisse and Ghisse, while in the distich inscribed on a cartellino fastened to the wall over his head it appears in its Latinised form of Gysen. This distich, which also contains the date and the sitter’s age, runs as follows:—

Footnote 5:

Woltmann, 115. Reproduced by Davies, p. 140; Knackfuss, fig. 117; Berlin Catg., p. 176; Ganz, Holbein, p. 95; and in colour by the Medici Society.

“Δισυχι`ον ĭ Jmaginē Georgii Gysenii Jsta refert vultus, qua cernis Jmago Georgi Sic oculos viuos, sic habet ille Genas. Anno ætatis suæ xxxiiij Anno dom 1532.”

In days when spelling was largely phonetic it is not surprising to find proper names spelt in a variety of ways, and the Hanse merchants, in particular, received letters from correspondents in all parts of the world, speaking a variety of languages and dialects. According to the Berlin Catalogue, Georg Gisze was born on 2nd April 1497, so that he was of Holbein’s own age, and died in February 1562, and was a member of a leading Danzig family. Woltmann regarded him as a Swiss, and states that there was a family called Gysin settled in the neighbourhood of Basel, and that the name is still to be seen on numerous sign-boards in the adjacent small town of Liestall.[6] Miss Hervey, on the other hand, suggests that, however the name may be spelt, it was probably a variation of that of Gueiss, which was one of the most distinguished in the annals of the Steelyard.[7] The family belonged to Cologne, and Albert von Gueiss was a representative of the Steelyard at the Conference held at Bruges in 1520. In at least one entry in the Steelyard records this name is spelt Gisse. She suggests, therefore, that Georg Gisze may have been a younger brother or a son of this Albert von Gueiss. In his book on Holbein’s “Ambassadors” picture, Mr. W. F. Dickes, who, in his anxiety to prove that Holbein was not in England in 1532, conveniently ignores the evidence of the letter which Gisze holds in his hand, addressed to him “in London,” conclusive proof that the portrait was produced in this country, is of opinion that it was painted in Basel.[8] Little is known of its history since it left the walls of the Guildhall in Thames Street. It was in the Orleans Collection in 1727, and was purchased at the sale of that collection by Christian von Mechel.[9] Various attempts to induce the Basel Library to buy it proved unavailing. It was afterwards for a time in Basel, and in 1821 was added to the Solly Collection, passing later into the Berlin Gallery.

Footnote 6:

Woltmann, i. 366.

Footnote 7:

Holbein’s Ambassadors, p. 240.

Footnote 8:

Holbein’s “Ambassadors” Unriddled, p. 2.

Footnote 9:

See Ganz, Holbein, p. 240. It was brought to England with the Orleans pictures in 1792, and in the Sale-Catalogue was described as “Portrait of Gysset.” It fetched 60 guineas. See Waagen, Treasures, &c., Vol. ii. p. 500.

The first time the name of Georg Gisze occurs in the English State Papers is in 1522,[10] when he was twenty-four years of age. The paper is an English translation of a protection, dated Lyon, 26 June 1522, granted by Francis I to Gerrard van Werden, George Hasse, Henry Melman, Geo. Gyse, Geo. Strowse, Elard Smetyng, Hans Colynbrowgh, and Perpoynt Deovanter, merchants of the Hanse, during the war between him, the Emperor, and England. They are forbidden to deal in wheat, salt, “ollrons,” harness, and weapons of war. Deovanter appears to have been one of the leading merchants. At this period he went as a representative of the Steelyard on several missions to Francis for the purpose of the recovery of goods taken from their ships by the Captain of Boulogne. During his absence he gave power of attorney in a suit of his against George Byrom, of Salford, to several friends and fellow-merchants, among them “George Guyse,” and, it is interesting to note, “Th. Crumwell, of London, gent.”[11]

Footnote 10:

C.L.P., vol. iii. pt. ii. 2350.

Footnote 11:

C.L.P., vol. iii. pt. ii. 2446, 2447, 2754.

The next reference to Gisze is at Michaelmas, 1533, in a letter from Thomas Houth to the Earl of Kildare in Ireland,[12] respecting the death of a certain John Wolff, in which, speaking of some bills, he says,—“I ascertained at the Steelyard that the handwriting was his, by the evidence of Geo. Gyes, the alderman’s deputy, and others.” This letter proves that Gisze held an important position in the Steelyard, as Deputy to the Alderman, who was probably Barthold Beckman, of Hamburg.[13] Possibly his appointment to this position occasioned the painting of his portrait.

Footnote 12:

C.L.P., vol. vi. 1170.

Footnote 13:

Lappenberg, Urkundliche Geschichte des Hansischen Stahlhofes zu London, p. 157; Miss Hervey, Holbein’s Ambassadors, p. 239.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF GEORG GISZE]

The portrait is life-size, and half-length, the sitter being turned to the right, the face towards the spectator, and the eyes turned slightly to the left. He is wearing a flat black cap over his fair hair, which is cut straight across the forehead and covers the ears; and a dress of rose-coloured silk with a sleeveless overcoat of black, and a fine white linen shirt. He is seated behind a table covered with a cloth of Eastern design, and is in the act of opening his brother’s letter. By him, on the table, stands a tall vase of Venetian glass with twisted handles, filled with carnations, and scattered in front of him are various objects used in his business, a seal, inkstand, scissors, quill pens, a leather case with metal bands and clasps, and a box containing money. From the shelves on the walls hang scales for weighing gold, a seal attached to a long chain, and a metal ball for string, with a damascened design and a band with the words “HEER EN” repeated round it.[14] Books and a box are upon the shelves, and tucked within the narrow wooden bars which run round the walls are parchment tags for seals and several letters with addresses in High German. On these occur the dates 1528 and 1531, while the names of the correspondents with which they are endorsed can be more or less clearly discerned, as well as the word “England.” Woltmann reads the names as “Tomas Bandz,” “Jergen ze Basel,” and “Hans Stolten.” This last letter is marked with the writer’s particular device, which also occurs on a second letter, and is very similar to the device on the letter in the picture of Derich Tybis in Vienna. The walls of his room are painted in greyish green, the paint shown as rubbed and discoloured here and there, and along the bars and shelves, which have been worn by constant use.

Footnote 14:

In the inventory of the goods of John Wolff, attached to the letter mentioned above, a similar ball is included—“a round ball gilt for sealing thread to hang out of to seal withal.” C.L.P., vol. vi. 1170.

The painting of the numerous details is wonderful in its accurate realism, showing the closest observation and an evident delight in their perfect rendering. It has been suggested, as the picture contains many more accessories than in his other portraits of members of the Steelyard, that Holbein took particular pains with it as the first of a possible series, and that it was a kind of “show-piece,” in order that his clients might see of what he was capable. This superb portrait, which is in a better state of preservation than most of Holbein’s existing works, is finer in its clear, luminous colour and more delicate in its drawing than any other of his pictures of this period. It is almost Flemish in the minuteness and care of its finish and in its cool, clear tones. All the objects of still-life which surround the sitter, which are placed about him as naturally as though the artist had come upon him suddenly when engaged upon his daily business, and had there and then painted him, without arranging or posing, whether of silk, or linen, or gold, or steel, or glass, are painted with a fidelity to nature never excelled by the Dutchmen or Flemings of the following century, who devoted their whole career to the rendering of still-life. In Holbein’s portrait, however, all these carefully-wrought minor details, beautiful in themselves as they may be, in no way force themselves on the attention to the detriment of the portrait itself, which stands out as a vivid representation of the sitter’s personality, in which the essentials of his character have been seen with an unerring eye, and set down upon the panel with an unerring hand. We get here the young German merchant to the very life, precise, deliberate and orderly in the transaction of his affairs, with strongly-marked German features, long nose, and determined chin, a living presentment which only a master could have produced.

Ruskin’s glowing description of the picture is well known, but it is so true and so eloquent that a sentence from it may be quoted:—

“Every accessory is perfect with a fine perfection; the carnations in the glass by his side; the ball of gold, chased with blue enamel, suspended on the wall; the books, the steelyard, the papers on the table, the seal ring with its quartered bearings—all intensely there, and there in beauty of which no one could have dreamed that even flowers or gold were capable, far less parchment or steel. But every change of shade is felt, every rich and rubied line of petal followed, every subdued gleam in the soft blue of the enamel and bending of the gold touched with a hand whose patience of regard creates rather than paints. The jewel itself was not so precious as the rays of enduring light which form it, beneath that errorless hand. The man himself what he was—not more; but to all conceivable proof of sight, in all aspect of life or thought—not less. He sits alone in his accustomed room, his common work laid out before him; he is conscious of no presence, assumes no dignity, bears no sudden or superficial look of care or interest, lives only as he lived—but for ever. It is inexhaustible. Every detail of it wins, retains, rewards the attention with a continually increasing sense of wonderfulness. It is also wholly true. So far as it reaches, it contains the absolute facts of colour, form, and character, rendered with an unaccusable faithfulness.”[15]

Footnote 15:

Ruskin, “Sir Joshua and Holbein,” Cornhill Magazine, March 1860; reprinted in On the Old Road, vol. i. pt. i. pp. 221-236.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF HANS OF ANTWERP]

The portrait of Hans of Antwerp, in Windsor Castle (Pl. 2),[16] belongs to the summer of the same year, 1532, and was one of the earliest of the Steelyard series. It is in oil on panel, and has darkened with age, and has suffered to some extent from repaintings. It represents the half-length figure of a middle-aged man, about three-quarters the size of life. He is turned to the right, seated at a table, upon which his elbows rest, and he is about to cut the string of a letter with a long knife. He has thick bushy hair and beard, brown in colour, and brown eyes, and is wearing a dark overcoat, which may have been originally dark green in colour, edged with a broad band of brown fur, and beneath it a brown dress and a white shirt with the collar embroidered with black Spanish work. On his head is a flat black cap. The table is covered with a dark green cloth, and upon it, in front of him, are placed a pad of paper with a quill pen resting on it, some coins and a seal engraved with the letter W. The head, strongly lightened, stands out against a background of grey-brown wall, with a strip of darker colour on the right-hand side of the panel. He wears a signet ring on the first finger of his left hand, and a smaller ring on the little finger of the right.

Footnote 16:

Woltmann, 265. Reproduced by Law, Holbein’s Pictures at Windsor Castle, Pl. ii.; Davies, p. 30; Knackfuss, fig. 119; Cust, Royal Collection of Paintings, Windsor Castle, 1906, Pl. 46; Ganz, Holbein, p. 96.

The letter which he holds in his hand has a superscription in crabbed Teutonic writing, which Woltmann, after careful examination, deciphered as follows:—

“_Dem ersamen H[a]nnsen Von Anwerpen ... lo [....] vpn Stallhoff zv h[anden]._”

The parts in brackets are hidden in the original by the knife, and have been added conjecturally by him, so that the whole inscription would run in English: “To the honourable Hans of Antwerp in London, in the Steelyard, these to hand.” The words “ersamen” and “Stallhoff” are distinct, but the “Anwerpen” is less clear, and only the first letter of the Christian name is certain.

The brown under-dress the sitter is wearing certainly has some appearance of the leather apron worn by goldsmiths which Woltmann declared it to be;[17] and this, together with the gold coins on the table, such as goldsmiths were in the habit of exhibiting in their shops, he regarded as additional proof that the portrait represents the goldsmith, Hans of Antwerp, Holbein’s close friend and one of his executors.[18] There is considerable probability that this ascription is correct, though it is by no means absolutely certain. On the paper-pad lying on the table there is an inscription, evidently in the sitter’s handwriting, giving his age and the date. Even this inscription is not absolutely clear. Woltmann reads it:—

Footnote 17:

Woltmann, i. p. 368. An under-dress of similar fashion, however, is worn by nearly all Holbein’s Steelyard sitters.

Footnote 18:

It should be noted, however, that similar coins appear in the box on the table in the portrait of Georg Gisze.

“Anno dm. 1532 an. d. 26 Julii Ætatis suæ ...”

The second “A.D.,” however, is evidently wrong. Mr. Law[19] reads it as a possible “Aug.” for August, and is doubtful about the word “Julii.” Both these writers fail to decipher the sitter’s age, but it appears to be “53,” or, perhaps, “33,” the latter agreeing better with the apparent age of the sitter.

Footnote 19:

Law, Holbein’s Pictures, &c., p. 5.

The W. on the seal affords some evidence against the portrait being that of John of Antwerp. Woltmann calls it “the device of his trading house,” and in this Mr. Law follows him. It is much more probable, however, that it is the initial of his surname. The seal is of a similar shape to those in the portraits of Georg Gisze and Derich Tybis. In the former the lettering is illegible, but in the latter it is plainly “D. T.” Before Hans of Antwerp’s surname was known, Woltmann’s suggestion was not out of place, but Mr. Lionel Cust[20] has recently discovered it to have been Van der Gow, which does not accord with the letter on the seal. Among the numerous references to John of Antwerp in the State Papers and elsewhere he is never once spoken of as belonging to the Steelyard, whereas the picture in question is in all probability a portrait of some merchant of the Hanseatic League. More than one German merchant of the Steelyard whose surname began with W is mentioned in the records, such as Gerard van Werden and Ulric Wise, while one of the leading jewellers of Henry’s reign was Morgan Wolf, though he was almost certainly a Welshman. However, until further evidence is forthcoming, the name Hans of Antwerp must stand as the sitter for this portrait, and it has much in its favour.

Footnote 20:

Burlington Magazine, vol. viii. No. XXXV. (Feb. 1906), pp. 356-60.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF HANS OF ANTWERP]

As the friend and witness and administrator of Holbein’s will, the question of the true portrait of John of Antwerp is of unusual interest. The two men appear to have been closely associated, and there is no doubt that Holbein supplied him with designs. One such design is well known—the drawing for a beautiful drinking-cup in the Basel Gallery upon which is inscribed the name “Hans Von Ant....” (Pl. 42).[21] Mr. Lionel Cust conjectures that the cup given by Cromwell to the King on New Year’s Day, 1539, made by John of Antwerp, was this identical cup; but it hardly appears probable that an object made for such a purpose would have the maker’s name placed upon it so prominently on a broad band running round its centre. It may be suggested that it is more likely to have been intended by the maker for presentation to the Hanseatic League to form part of the corporation plate of that body kept in the Guildhall of the Steelyard.

Footnote 21:

Woltmann, 110 (104). See p. 275.

John of Antwerp’s name occurs frequently in the private accounts of Thomas Cromwell for the years 1537-39, and Mr. Lionel Cust has gathered together much interesting information about him. In a letter from Cromwell to the Goldsmiths’ Company we learn that he had been settled in London since 1515, but the first reference to him Mr. Cust finds is in March 1537, in the Privy Purse Expenses of the Princess Mary, which runs: “Item payed for goldsmythes workes for my ladies grace to John of Andwarpe iiij li, xvij s, vij d.” There is, however, an earlier reference, and one of considerable interest, in the State Papers, in a letter from one Richard Cavendish to the Duke of Suffolk, dated Norton, 5th June 1534, which shows that John Van Andwerp was at that time employed with a certain Hans De Fromont in searching for a gold mine at Norton. “They are,” says Cavendish, “applying themselves with diligence to find the mine. Here is the greatest diversity of earth and stones, for the stones in the gravel in most places appear to be very gold. Many assays have been made to prove it, but nothing found as yet, and it is believed the glitter ‘is but the scum of the metal which groweth beneath the ground.’ They have now begun to dig pits to get at the principal vein. The people are as glad as ever he saw to further the matter, for in old evidences the place is called Golden Norton, which proves that gold may be found there. He sees no great forwardness as yet, but prays God they may find some.”[22]

Footnote 22:

C.L.P., vol. vii. 800.

Cromwell employed him in a number of ways. In December 1537[23] he received 15_s._ for setting a great ruby, and 29_s._ for the gold in the ring. In November 1538[24] he was at work on the cup already mentioned for a New Year’s Gift to Henry, for which purpose he received 52 oz. of gold, and was paid nearly £20. Other work during these years consisted in making a George, setting stones in rings, making chains and trenchers, and repairing various Georges, Garters, and other jewellery belonging to the Lord Privy Seal, full details of which will be found in Mr. Cust’s paper, the last entry being dated 15th December 1539.[25]

Footnote 23:

C.L.P., vol. xiv. pt. ii. 782, ii. (p. 333).

Footnote 24:

C.L.P., vol. xiv. pt. ii. 782, ii. (p. 338).

Footnote 25:

Ibid., under various dates.

An entry in the Book of Payments of the Treasurer of the Chamber for April 1539[26] shows him in another capacity, one, as already noted, in which the foreign traders in England were frequently employed by the Court. He received one shilling from the King’s purse for forwarding letters of importance to Christopher Mount and Thomas Panell, “his gracis servauntes and oratours in Jarmayne.”[27]

Footnote 26:

C.L.P., vol. xiv. pt. ii. 781 (p. 309).

Footnote 27:

Mr. Cust suggests that this message was addressed to Holbein. He says: “At Lady Day, 1539, he (Holbein) seems to have been still absent (in Basel), though he was back in England before Midsummer.” (Burlington Magazine, February 1906, p. 359.) This, however, is not probable. Holbein was certainly back from Basel by December 1538, when he received £10 for his journey to Upper Burgundy, and he presented a portrait of Prince Edward to the King on New Year’s Day, 1539. He received no salary on Lady Day, 1539, because he had already received a year’s wages in advance at Midsummer, 1538, to date from the previous Lady Day, and not because he was out of England. At this period messages and money were being constantly sent to Christopher Mount, who was much abroad on missions to the German Protestant princes, and the question of the marriage with Cleves was only one of the many affairs, and one of the least important, upon which he was then engaged.

In 1537 Hans of Antwerp’s name occurs in the return for Subsidies of Aliens in England, among foreigners dwelling in the parish of St. Nicholas Acon, as “John Andwarpe, straunger, xxx li., xxx s.” In a similar list for the same parish in 1541 he is given for the first time his proper name: “John Vander Gow, alias John Andwerp, in goodes, xxx li., xxx s.” Mr. Cust suggests that his name may have been Van der Goes. This assessment of his goods at £30 and the tax on it of thirty shillings was the customary rate for foreigners. Nicholas Lyzarde, Elizabeth’s serjeant-painter,[28] was assessed to the same amount—but Holbein was taxed at the higher rate of £3 on his salary of £30, as it was the custom to tax “lands, fees and annuities” at double the rate of goods.

Footnote 28:

See p. 309.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF HANS OF ANTWERP]

In April of the same year Van der Gow was anxious to obtain the freedom of the Goldsmiths’ Company as a step towards being admitted to the right of citizenship in London. Cromwell’s letter, recommending him to the Company “most hartely,” states that he had already lived twenty-six years in London, had married an Englishwoman, by whom he had many children, and purposed continuing in London for the rest of his life. This desire to become a naturalised Englishman might be taken as some evidence that he was not a member of the Steelyard confraternity.

From the register of the church of St. Nicholas Acon, in Lombard Street, where the goldsmiths have always congregated, we learn that he had a son, Augustine Anwarpe, baptized on 27th November 1542, and a second son, Roger, on 10th December 1547; that on three successive days in September 1543 three of his servants, John Ducheman, Jane, his maid, and Richard, were buried; that a fourth servant was buried on the 10th August 1548; and that his son Augustine was buried on 1st July 1550.[29] There can be little doubt that the three servants died of the plague which was raging in London in September 1543. Holbein was almost certainly another of its victims, and Mr. Cust suggests that he may very probably have caught the infection in John Van der Gow’s house.

Footnote 29:

These facts are taken from Mr. Cust’s paper.

The portrait, it is to be supposed, like Holbein’s other representations of Steelyard merchants, was very possibly presented to the Guild, and would remain hanging in their Guildhall until they were expelled by Elizabeth in 1598. “When in 1606,” says Woltmann, quoting from Lappenberg, “under James I, the Steelyard was given back to its possessors, the rooms were found in an evil condition, and all movables, such as tables, seats, bedsteads, and even panels and glass windows, were almost entirely stolen. That under such circumstances a sparing hand watched over the pictures is scarcely to be expected.”[30] The portrait of Hans of Antwerp, whatever its earlier adventures may have been, was in the collection of Charles I, in which it was No. 29, and is described in his catalogue as: “Done by Holbein. Item. Upon a cracked board, the picture of a merchant, in a black cap and habit having a letter with a knife in his hand cutting the seal thread of the letter; a seal lying by on a green table; bought by Sir Harry Vane and given to the King.” The crack in the panel is still plainly visible. It was valued by the Commonwealth Commissioners at £100, and sold for that sum. It reappears, however, in James II’s catalogue, No. 499: “By Holbein. A man’s head, in a black cap, with a letter and penknife in his hand.” It is possible that it is the picture by “Holbin” of “a Dutchman sealing a letter,” which was in the Duke of Buckingham’s collection at York House in 1635,[31] from which it may have passed into that of Charles I. The picture, though it has not the richness and transparency of colour of the “Gisze,” or its extreme delicacy of execution and luxuriance of detail, is a vigorous and life-like representation of a somewhat stolid German, painted with the truth and sincerity which Holbein brought to everything he touched.

Footnote 30:

Woltmann, i. p. 381. See also Norman, Archæologia, vol. lxi. pt. ii. p. 394.

Footnote 31:

See Randall Davies, “Inventory of the Duke of Buckingham’s Pictures,” &c., Burlington Magazine, March 1907, p. 382.

[Sidenote: PORTRAITS OF TWO OF THE WEDIGHS]

The two small roundels, which hitherto have always been regarded as likenesses of Holbein himself, undoubtedly represent, as Dr. Ganz has recently pointed out, the same individual as the sitter in the Windsor picture, who, until his identity is finally settled, it is most convenient to call Hans of Antwerp. The first is the beautiful little painting on oak in the Salting collection,[32] in which the sitter is shown in full-face, with a flat black cap, a gown lined with light-coloured fur, and a dark under-coat or vest, cut straight across the top, as in most of Holbein’s other Steelyard portraits. The left hand only is shown, with a ring on the first finger. On the background on either side of the head is the faded inscription “ETATIS SVÆ 35.” It was possibly painted a year or two later than the Windsor portrait, to which the likeness is very marked. If, however, the sitter really represents Hans of Antwerp, and he was painted a second time by Holbein about 1534-5, when 35 years of age, he must have been only a boy when he settled in London in 1515. The second roundel is in Lord Spencer’s collection at Althorp,[33] and this, too, has always been regarded as a portrait of Holbein by himself. Here again the likeness to the Windsor picture is a strong one, though the opposite side of the face is seen, as he is shown in three-quarters profile to the spectator’s left. There are slight variations in the dress, the undervest being lower, and disclosing more of the white shirt. Some critics regard it as a genuine work by Holbein, but Dr. Ganz places it among the doubtful and wrongly-attributed pictures. He suggests that it is probably one of the two roundels considered to be self-portraits by Holbein which C. van Mander saw in Amsterdam in 1604, and was engraved by A. Stock as such in 1612 and published by H. Hondius. There is a replica of it in the Provinzial Museum in Hanover.[34] All three works evidently represent the same man, and at about the same age.

Footnote 32:

Exhibited Burlington Fine Arts Club, 1909, Case D, No. 1, and reproduced in the Catalogue, Pl. xxxiv.; also by Ganz, Holbein, p. 114.

Footnote 33:

Reproduced by Ganz, Holbein, p. 226.

Footnote 34:

See Ganz, Holbein, p. 253.

In the same year, 1532, he painted another goldsmith, Hans von Zürich, but the picture has disappeared, and is now only known from the engraving Hollar made of it in 1647, when it was in the Arundel collection. In the engraving he is shown at half-length, full-face, the body turned slightly to the left, and is a thin man, with a pleasant expression. It is inscribed on the top: “Hans von Zürch, Goltshmidt. Hans Holbein, 1532,” and below, “W. Hollar fecit, 1647, ex collectione Arundeliana,” and has a dedication by the publisher, H. Vander Borcht, to Matthäus Merian.[35] The date indicates that Hans von Zürich must have been living in London at that time, though his name does not occur in the State Papers.

Footnote 35:

Reproduced by Ganz, Holbein, p. 197 (i.). Parthey, No. 1411.

One other portrait of a German merchant by Holbein was painted in the year 1532.[36] It is in the collection of Count von Schönborn in Vienna, and is one of a pair of portraits of brothers or near relations, members of the Wedigh family of Cologne.[37] They hung together until 1865, in which year the finer one of the two, dated 1533, was acquired by Herr B. Suermondt, of Aix-la-Chapelle, and is now in the Berlin Gallery, having been purchased in 1874, together with another fine portrait by Holbein of an unknown young man, from the Suermondt collection. The close relationship of the two sitters is proved by the exactly similar coat of arms on the enamelled ring each one is wearing. In the first edition of his book Woltmann gave it as his opinion that they were Englishmen, but afterwards came to the conclusion that both portraits represented German Steelyard merchants. The belief that they were Englishmen was afterwards strengthened by a communication to the Berlin authorities from Privy Councillor Dielitz, who, from the coat of arms on the rings, held that the pictures represented two members of the English family of Trelawney. This ascription, however, has been proved to be wrong, and it may be pointed out that the motto inscribed on the paper projecting from the book in the Vienna portrait,—“Veritas odium parit” (“Truth brings hatred”), is not the present motto of the Trelawney family. On the side of the same book, painted on the edges of the leaves, are the letters “H E R. W I D.,” and more recent research has established the fact that the two men were members of the Wedigh family. Members of this patrician family of Cologne had been connected with the London Steelyard since 1480. In this connection it is interesting to note that the seal in the so-called “Hans of Antwerp” picture is engraved with the letter “W,” which suggests some possibility that he, too, may have been a Wedigh.

Footnote 36:

Woltmann, 262. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 118; Ganz, Holbein, p. 97.

Footnote 37:

Both portraits are mentioned in an inventory of 1746.

The 1532 picture in the Schönborn collection is a small half-length. The subject, who is seated at the back of a table, is turned to the right, with head almost full-front and looking at the spectator. His right arm rests on the table, and he holds his gloves in his left hand. His hair, cut straight across his forehead, covers his ears, and he is clean-shaven. He is wearing the usual dark overcoat with deep fur collar, and an inner collar or lining of lighter fur, opened sufficiently to show a part of his embroidered under-dress, the sleeves of which are of watered or patterned silk, and a white pleated shirt gathered round the neck in a small frill. The customary flat black cap is on his head. On the table to the left is a leather-bound book with two clasps, with the artist’s initials on the cover, and a piece of paper projecting from between the leaves on which is written the Latin motto already quoted. On the plain blue background is inscribed on either side of the head, “ANNO. 1532.” and “ÆTATIS.SVÆ. 29.” It is a sympathetic and simple rendering of a young man of serious expression, in which both the beardless face, of a somewhat reddish complexion, and the two hands are very finely painted. Woltmann conjectured that the Latin motto indicated that the book on the table might be one of those writings which the German reformers were at that time busily engaged in smuggling into England, the secret dissemination of which neither Wolsey or More could stay, in spite of the drastic methods they employed to stamp it out. Although possessing many privileges, the men of the Steelyard were by no means free from persecutions of this nature.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF HERMANN WEDIGH]

The companion picture, in the Berlin Gallery (No. 586B) (Pl. 3), represents Hermann Hillebrandt Wedigh.[38] Like that of his brother, it is a small half-length. He stands directly facing the spectator, the left hand holding his buff-coloured gloves, and the right half hidden by the heavy dark-brown cloak, with black velvet collar and velvet at the wrists, the folds of which are finely arranged and painted. This cloak lacks the customary fur collar. The white shirt, partly open and showing the bare chest beneath, is tied in the front by long strings passed through a white button, and the embroidered collar is almost hidden by his beard. A flat black cap is on his head, of the type worn by all the Steelyard merchants in Holbein’s portraits. The hair, beard, and long moustache are fair, the separate hairs being indicated with almost microscopic care. The eyes are brown, the left one being decidedly smaller than the right, and there is a corresponding difference in the development of the two sides of the face. There are no accessories of any kind, and upon the plain blue background, on either side of the head, is inscribed, in gold letters: “ANNO. 1533.” and “ÆTATIS SVÆ. 39.” The gold ring is enamelled in red, white and black, and in the circle round the coat of arms there are some letters now undecipherable. This is one of the finest and most sympathetic portraits ever painted by Holbein. The face, in spite of its slight irregularity, is one of great charm and much sweetness of expression. The drawing of the hands and mouth is particularly fine.[39]

Footnote 38:

Woltmann, 116. Reproduced by Dickes, p. 79; Knackfuss, fig. 121; Ganz, Holbein, p. 98; and in colour in Early German Painters, folio v.

Footnote 39:

Mr. Dickes, who does not hesitate to suggest that a date has been tampered with if it suits his argument to do so, regards this picture as “an unmistakable portrait of the second person” in the “Ambassadors” picture, such person being, in his opinion Philipp, Count Palatine. This picture, he says, “has a damaged date, catalogued as 1533, and a more clear “ætatis 34,” which is no doubt correct, for the moustache shows five years’ more growth” (i.e. than in the “Ambassadors”). “No one who compares the two faces can doubt the identity, or that if of Philipp—born November 12, 1503, as indicated in our picture—its correct date is 1538.” It requires a very vivid imagination to see a likeness between Wedigh and the portrait of the Bishop of Lavaur in the National Gallery group; but Mr. Dickes sees Philipp and Otto Henry in so many portraits scattered about Europe, having but the faintest resemblance to one another, and gives to Holbein so many pictures he never painted, and takes from him at least one of his finest works (the Morette in Dresden, which he calls Otto Henry and attributes to Amberger) that his attribution with regard to the Wedigh portrait is not worth serious consideration. The date upon it is plainly enough 1533. At the time he was writing his book the age of the sitter appeared to be “34,” but recent cleaning shows it to be “39.” (Dickes, Holbein’s “Ambassadors” Unriddled, p. 81.)

Three other portraits of Steelyard merchants bear the date 1533: Derich Born at Windsor, Derich Tybis at Vienna, and Cyriacus Fallen at Brunswick. The portrait of Derich Born (Pl. 4 (1)),[40] in the royal collection at Windsor Castle, painted when he was twenty-three, is, after the “Gisze” and “Hermann Wedigh” portraits, perhaps the most attractive of the Steelyard series. It is slightly under life-size, the figure shown nearly to the waist, turned to the right, and the head, upon which the light falls strongly from above on the right, nearly in full-face. His right elbow rests on a stone ledge or parapet which runs across the picture, the left hand placed across the right wrist, and a gold signet-ring with a coat of arms on his forefinger. He wears a flat black cap, black silk dress, and a white shirt with a collar of so-called Spanish work of black silk thread, very delicately painted. He is beardless, and has chestnut-brown hair, cut straight across the forehead and hiding the ears in the customary fashion.

Footnote 40:

Woltmann, 266. Reproduced by Law, Pl. 3; Davies, p. 154; Ganz, Holbein, p. 100; Cust, Royal Collection of Paintings, Windsor Castle, 1906, No. 45.

On the flat stonework below the ledge on which his arm rests is inscribed, in large Roman letters as though cut in the stone, the following Latin couplet:

“Derichvs si vocem addas ipsissimvs hic sit Hvnc dvbites pictor fecerit an genitor.”

(“If you were to add a voice this would be Derich, his very self; and you would doubt whether a painter or a parent had produced him.”)

Below this runs, in slightly smaller letters of the same type:

“DER. BORN ETATIS SVÆ 23 ANNO 1533.”

The background is of a dark greenish blue against which stand out some branches and leaves of a vine or fig tree. It is painted in cool and delicate tones, with flesh tints of a pale brown, in which it bears a close resemblance to the portrait of Georg Gisze. It is marked, too, by the same simplicity and restraint, and air of quiet and dignified repose, and searching truth and insight in the rendering of what must have been a very attractive nature, qualities which make Holbein’s portraiture so great.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF DERICH BORN]

This is the only one of several portraits of the series without letters or papers bearing the name and address of the sitter which can be said with absolute certainty to represent one of the London Steelyard merchants. Mr. W. F. Dickes suggests that it represents the eldest son and successor of Theodorichus de Born, the printer, of Deventer and Nimeguen, who issued the Netherland New Testament in 1532, and he quotes a reference to a Theodorichus de Born de Novimagio acting as Secretary to the Faculty of Arts at Cologne University, and also to a Derichus de Born who had a licence to preach. “Remembering,” he says, “that Erasmus spent his schooldays at Deventer, and that Holbein owed to him several of his introductions, I think my suggestion deserves to be considered. At any rate, there is no necessity to assume, as is done without a tittle of evidence, that this young scholar was a member of the Stahlhof! Nor does the presence of this portrait at Windsor prove that it was painted in England.”[41]

Footnote 41:

Dickes, Holbein, &c., p. 6.

Mr. Dickes, whose chief object is to prove, for the purposes of his theory about the “Ambassadors,” that none of these Steelyard portraits was painted in England, starts by misquoting the inscription on the picture, which he gives as “Derichus si vocem addas de Born,” an extraordinary mixing of the first and third lines. There is no “de Born” in it, it is distinctly “Der. Born,” and though the young man depicted may have been a member of Theodorichus de Born’s family, as he suggests, he was certainly a member of the Steelyard, and known in London as Derich Born. In the Calendars of Letters and Papers, under the heading of “Ordnance,” a paper is printed which gives a list of “payments made by Erasmus Kyrkenar, the King’s armourer, by his Majesty’s command, from 15th Sept, to 13th Oct. 28 Hen. VIII” (1536), for wages of armourers, and the providing of armour, harness, &c., in connection with the Rebellion in the North. Among the items included in his account is the following:

“For various bundles of harness bought of Mr. Locke, merchant of London, and of Dyrycke Borne, merchant of the Steelyard,” &c.[42] This, though it does not actually prove him to have been in London in 1533, shows that he was most certainly here three years later as a member of the Steelyard. Evidence of his presence in London in the years 1542-49 is to be found in the Inventare hansischer Archive des 16. Jahrhunderts, I, quoted by Dr. Ganz,[43] who states that he was a merchant of Cologne.

Footnote 42:

C.L.P., vol. xi. 686.

Footnote 43:

Holbein, p. 240.

The picture is on oak, 1 ft. 11½ in. high by 1 ft. 7¼ in. wide. It was at one time in the Arundel collection, and is entered in the 1655 inventory as “Derichius a Born.” It is possible that the earl owned more than one of the Steelyard portraits, for there are two entries of portraits of men with black birettas. On the back is the brand of Charles I, “C.R.” crowned, though it is not described in his catalogue. There is a second portrait of Derich Born by Holbein, a small oval of about 3 in. high (9 × 8 mm.), on paper, in the Alte Pinakothek at Munich, giving the head and shoulders only.[44] It is painted in oil on paper, and has suffered somewhat from retouching, but is still an excellent example of the small portraits in oil on wood or paper, usually enclosed in a case of wood or ivory, which Holbein was fond of painting at this period, closely akin to his true miniatures of a rather later date. In the Munich version the position is reversed, the sitter being turned to the right, and the face not quite so fully to the front. The workmanship, more particularly of the collar, is as fine as in the larger Windsor portrait. His name and age and the date are given, but the last figures and letters have been cut away, probably when fitting it into the frame, so that all that is left of the inscription on the background, on either side of the head, now reads:

Footnote 44:

Woltmann, 220. Reproduced by Ganz, Holbein, p. 147.

“DEBOR . . . . TATIS SVÆ . . M. D. XXX . . .”

There is every probability that the completed date was 1533, and that the little picture was produced at about the same time as the Windsor version, though the sitter looks slightly younger, and while the more important work was painted for a place on the walls of the Hanse Guildhall, the lesser one may well have been done for sending to the sitter’s relations abroad. The Munich catalogue states that it is from the Elector Palatine’s palace at Mannheim, but otherwise nothing is known of its history.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF DERICH TYBIS]

The half-length portrait of Derich Tybis, of Duisburg (Pl. 4 (2)), about half the size of life, in the Vienna Gallery (No. 1485), is of the same date, 1533.[45] It is a full-face representation of a young man, with dark brown eyes and hair, his double chin and upper lip being clean-shaven and tinged with blue. In his hands, which rest on a table in front of him, he is holding a letter which he is about to open. He wears the usual heavy, black, sleeveless cloak or overcoat, with a deep collar of fur, and a smaller inner collar of lighter fur. The fore-sleeves of his under-dress are of dark-brown velvet. The open fur collar allows a glimpse of a finely-pleated white shirt, with a neck-band of a conventional design of holly leaves worked in gold thread in place of the more usual black Spanish embroidery. He wears two rings on the forefinger of his left hand, one with an oval green stone in a claw setting. The table is covered with an olive-green cloth, and lying upon it are a second letter, a paper with an inscription, a seal, quill-pen, sealing-wax, and a circular inkstand in two divisions, with an ink-well in one half and some gold coins in the other.

Footnote 45:

Woltmann, 251. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 120; Ganz, Holbein, p. 101; and in colour in Early German Painters, folio ii.

The picture has suffered some damage, more particularly in the colour. The ground, which was originally azure blue, has turned to a greenish tone, and the shadows of the flesh are now too grey; but the masterly draughtmanship is still there and the extraordinary insight into character. Here again the fine and expressive hands at once attract attention.

The letter he holds in his hands is from his father, and is addressed “Dem ersamen Deryck tybis von Duysburch alwyl London vff wi ... dgyss mynem lesten Sun....” (“To the honourable Derich Tybis of Duisburg, at the time in London, in Windgyss, my dear son”). This address shows that Tybis was living in Windgoose Alley, one of the passage-ways running through the Steelyard, with the houses and shops of the members on either side.

On the open paper lying on the table is inscribed, in imitation of the sitter’s handwriting:

“Jesus Christus.

“Da ick was 33 jar alt was ick Deryck Tybis to London dyser gestalt en hab dyser gelicken den mark gesch[rieben] myt myner eigenen Hant en was Holpein malt anno 1533. per my Deryck [device here] Tybis fan Drys[burch].”

(“When I was 33 years old, I, Deryck Tybis, in London, had this appearance, and I have marked this portrait with my device in my own hand, and it was painted by Holbein in the year 1533, by me Deryck (here stands the device) Tybis von Drys....”)

The device, a combination of crosses, is repeated on the seal on the table, with the letters D.T., reversed, on either side of it. There is a somewhat similar device on some of the letters in Georg Gisze’s portrait. The address on the second letter, lying in front of him, is now almost illegible. There is no inscription on the background. The writer has found no reference to Tybis in the English State Papers.

The fourth Steelyard portrait of 1533, that of Cyriacus Fallen, in the Brunswick Gallery,[46] is also a half-length, about half the size of life. Like Derich Tybis, the sitter is shown full-face, looking at the spectator. His hair is cut in the customary Steelyard fashion, and he is clean-shaven. His black cap is set rather jauntily on one side, and his black overcoat has a very heavy fur collar, while his fore-sleeves are of brown silk with a pattern, as in the Wedigh portrait. The neck of his white embroidered shirt is just visible over the collar. In his hands he holds his gloves and two letters, superscribed with his name and address in London. These addresses are not very legible. Dr. Woltmann at first supposed the Christian name to be Ambrose, but further examination proved it to be Cyriacus. One of the inscriptions is: “Dem Ersamen syryacussfalen zu luden vp Stalhoff sy disser briff”; and the other: “Dem Ersamen f. ... syriakus fallenn in Lunde ... stalhuff sy dies....”

Footnote 46:

Woltmann, 126. Reproduced in The Masterpieces of Holbein (Gowan’s Art Books, No. 13), p. 34; Ganz, Holbein, p. 99. Reinach gives the surname as Kale, Répertoire des Peintures, Vol. ii. p. 518.

On the green background, on either side of the sitter’s head, is inscribed his motto, “Patient in all things,” his age, and the date:

IN ALS GEDOLTIG SIS ALTERS. 32. · ANNO · · 1533 ·

Fallen has a broad face, and a somewhat stolid expression; like his fellow merchants, he has been placed upon the panel with absolute truth and precision, without a touch of flattery. The eyes, hands, and dress are still in excellent condition, but the head, unfortunately, has suffered greatly in the course of time, and has been much rubbed and overcleaned, and retouched in numerous places.[47]

Footnote 47:

Restored in 1892 by Hauser.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF DERICH BERCK]

There is a gap of three years before the next and last of this series of portraits of Hanse merchants is reached, that of Derich Berck or Berg of Cologne, in Lord Leconfield’s collection at Petworth (#Pl. 5#),[48] which is dated 1536. He is represented life-size, at half-length, and full face, with brown hair and beard, and black dress and cap. Both hands are shown, and the left, resting on a table with a red cover, holds a letter addressed:—“Dem Ersame’ v[n]d fromen Derich berk i. London upt. Stalhoff,” together with the motto besad dz end (“Consider the end”), and the trade-mark of his business house. On the table is a slip of paper with the Latin motto, “Olim meminisse juvabit,” selected by Berck, says Dr. Ganz, to indicate that Holbein’s brush will secure him immortality.[49] In the top right-hand corner are the date and the sitter’s age, “AN. 1536. ÆTA: 30” twice over, a later inscription being painted over the faded original one. The background is blue, with a green curtain on the left.

Footnote 48:

Woltmann, 241. First published by Dr. Ganz in Burlington Magazine, October 1911, vol. xx. p. 33; Ganz, Holbein, p. 107.

Footnote 49:

See Burlington Magazine, vol. xx. p. 32.

The writer has not seen this picture, but it is described as follows by Dr. Ganz in the Burlington Magazine:—“The merchant’s cloth and cap are black, but not dark; the heavy silk reflects the light in a greenish colour finely observed. The background is blue, of the same blue as in the portrait of Richard Southwell at Florence executed in the same year. It is enriched by a green curtain with red strings, giving an opportunity for the artist—like the red cloth on the table—for introducing other tones into his composition, such as black, besides the main notes of blue and flesh colour. The brightest point in this profound harmony of colours, a part of the white shirt with black embroidery, is placed just under the face and makes the fresh and lively expression of it stronger. The light shines with a rare splendour over this man’s healthy face and is reflected in the grey-blue eyes, which look so frank and kindly.” This picture has suffered from over-painting, but it remains a splendid and virile example of Holbein’s portraiture. There is a poor copy of it in the Alte Pinakothek at Munich,[50] purchased in 1899 from a local picture-dealer. It had come originally from France, and was regarded as an unfinished portrait by Holbein of an unknown man. The Munich catalogue describes it as a school-replica.

Footnote 50:

Reproduced by Ganz, Holbein, p. 219.

To Holbein the Steelyard proved to be in all ways a fruitful source of income. Not only was he busily engaged for some years in painting individual members of the League, but he was also employed by them in their corporate capacity upon an important work of decoration for their Guildhall, and in at least one other direction. This decoration consisted of two large allegorical paintings in tempera representing “The Triumph of Riches” and “The Triumph of Poverty.” No record exists as to the date of this work, but it is reasonable to suppose that the commission was given him in 1532 or 1533, at the time when he was in constant attendance within the precincts of the Steelyard for the purpose of painting some of its leading members in the midst of their daily occupations.

These decorative paintings have long since disappeared, but the original design for “The Triumph of Riches” exists, as well as numerous copies of both compositions, so that it is possible to gain some idea of their beauty and importance. These allegories, which contained many life-size figures, were not painted on the walls, but on canvas, and so easily removable. They added greatly to the artist’s reputation in this country, and before the close of the sixteenth century they were celebrated throughout Europe among artists and connoisseurs of painting. Carel von Mander says that Federigo Zuccaro, about the year 1574, made two drawings from them, and declared them to be equal to anything accomplished by Raphael, and that after his return to Italy he told Goltzius the painter that they were even finer than any wall-paintings from Raphael’s brush.

The two pictures remained in the Guildhall of the Steelyard until 1598, when it was closed by Queen Elizabeth, who at the same time expelled the Germans from their houses. For some years the place remained desolate, and when, in 1606, under James I, the buildings were restored to the League, most of the property left behind was found to have been stolen or badly damaged. The glory and prosperity of the Steelyard, indeed, had completely vanished, never to be fully restored again, and when the affairs of the Company in London were finally wound up, the two pictures were presented by the League, through their representative, the house-master, Holtscho, on January 22nd, 1616 (old style) to Henry, Prince of Wales, like his brother, Charles I, a patron of the fine arts. Holtscho, in describing the event, says: “I cannot, also, leave it unnoticed, that although these works are old, and have lost their freshness, yet His Highness, as a lover of painting, and as the works of the master, specially this work, have been highly commended, has taken great pleasure in them, as I have myself perceived, and have also heard from himself.”[51] The researches of Dr. Lappenberg have placed these facts beyond doubt, thus disproving the old legend that the pictures were destroyed when still hanging on the walls of the banqueting-hall of the Easterlings during the Great Fire in 1666.

Footnote 51:

Woltmann, i. 381, quoting from Lappenberg, Urkundliche Geschichte des hansischen Stahlhofes zu London, 1851, pp. 82-87.

[Sidenote: THE TWO “TRIUMPHS”]

It has been generally supposed that on the death of Prince Henry, two years after they were presented to him, the pictures passed into the possession of Charles I; and as they were not included among the pictures of that King’s collection sold by order of the Commonwealth in 1648-53, Dr. Lappenberg concluded that they must have remained at Whitehall until destroyed in the fire at that palace in 1698. Further evidence, however, appears to contradict this conclusion. In Van der Doort’s carefully-prepared catalogue of Charles I’s collection, although several less important works by Holbein are included, among them two miniatures, these two celebrated pictures are not mentioned. Again, Sandrart, in his autobiography, describes the two compositions in some detail, after seeing them in 1627 in the Earl of Arundel’s possession, in the long garden gallery in Arundel House. He does not say whether they were pictures or drawings, so that they may have been only the original designs; it is much more probable, however, that they were the large paintings, as Sandrart speaks of them first of all, as the chief of Holbein’s works belonging to the Earl, and afterwards describes three of his best known portraits, hanging in the same gallery, those of Erasmus, Sir Thomas More, and a “Princess of Lorraine” (the Duchess of Milan), which seems to indicate that Lord Arundel possessed the large works. It has been suggested that they may have been presented by Charles I to the Earl; but it is more likely that they were obtained by exchange with that monarch. Later on they were taken abroad with the rest of the collection by the Countess of Arundel, and were in Amsterdam at the time of her death in 1654. In the inventory then drawn up they are merely described as “Triumpho della Richezza” and “Triumpho della Poverta.” Probably they were among the pictures hastily sold by Lord Stafford in that town immediately after his mother’s decease.[52] The last trace of their history to be found is in a paragraph in Félibien’s Entretiens sur les Vies et sur les Ouvrages des plus excellents Peintres anciens et modernes, published in 1666, in which he speaks of them as having been brought from Flanders to Paris: “Il y avait encore dans la maison des Ostrelins, dans la salle du Convive, deux tableaux à détrempe, qu’on a veûs icy depuis quelques années, et qu’on avait envoyez de Flandres.”[53]

Footnote 52:

See Burlington Magazine, August 1911, vol. xix. pp. 282-6.

Footnote 53:

Quoted by Woltmann, i. p. 382.

If Félibien is correct, the pictures had once more come into the possession of the Hanseatic League. They were, no doubt, purchased in Amsterdam by that body, and forwarded to Paris. No further record of them has been discovered, and as they were already in a damaged state when presented to the Prince of Wales, the probability is that they have perished.

[Sidenote: THE TWO “TRIUMPHS”]

Holbein’s original sketch for “The Triumph of Riches,” a masterly pen drawing washed with Indian-ink, and touched with white in the high lights, is in the Louvre (#Pl. 6#).[54] A similar drawing in the British Museum, purchased in 1854, which at one time was attributed to Holbein himself, is said by Woltmann to be a tracing of the Louvre example; but it has no appearance of being traced, and is certainly a copy, perhaps by an Italian.[55] The heads and attributes are given a Raphaelesque air, strikingly different from the Flemish style of a second drawing in the Museum, of the second composition, “The Triumph of Poverty.”[56] This latter is in black and red chalks and pen, washed with Indian-ink, and heightened with white, on a blue background, and was acquired in 1894 from the Eastlake collection. Lady Eastlake possessed a similar drawing of the “Riches.” Both are in all probability by Lucas Vorsterman the younger, and were purchased by Sir Charles Eastlake from the Walpole sale in 1842 for sixteen guineas. They appear to be copies, as Vertue suggested, made for engraving purposes by Lucas Vorsterman from the drawings done by Zuccaro in 1574; or possibly from the original paintings when in Amsterdam. Vorsterman certainly engraved one, if not both subjects, though only his engraving of the “Poverty” is known. These drawings,[57] at one time in the Lely collection, were in Buckingham House, before it was purchased for a royal palace, and were sold as allegorical works by Van Dyck, and bought by Horace Walpole, who regarded the “Riches” as by Vorsterman, and the “Poverty” as by Zuccaro; but the latter, like the former, is decidedly Flemish in style.[58] Sandrart possessed copies, in all probability those made by Zuccaro, which were afterwards in the Crozat collection, and when that collection was sold passed into that of Privy Councillor Fleischmann, of Strasburg, and while in his possession were engraved for Von Mechel’s “œuvres de Jean Holbein,” and inscribed “Zuccari delin. 1574.” All further traces of these Zuccaro drawings have now been lost.

Footnote 54:

Woltmann, 233. Reproduced by Ganz, Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng., Pl. 31; Woltmann, i. p. 384.

Footnote 55:

British Museum Catalogue of Drawings, &c., Binyon, ii. p. 342.

Footnote 56:

Ibid., p. 342.

Footnote 57:

The Vorsterman copies are reproduced in outline in Waagen’s edition of Kugler’s German, &c., Schools of Painting, from drawings made by Sir George Scharf when they were in the Eastlake collection.

Footnote 58:

Walpole, Anecdotes, &c., ed. Wornum, i. p. 89. Dr. Ganz, however, regards the “Poverty” as Zuccaro’s copy. See Holbein, p. 248.

The British Museum possesses a very rare and interesting engraving, dated 1561,[59] and inscribed “Faicte par Maistre Hans Holbeyn tres excellent pointre. Et imprime par Johan Borg^{ni} Floret^o en Anuers lan M·D·LXI.” It is evidently taken from Holbein’s original design, which must have been in Antwerp at that date. Larger copies of both paintings are also in the British Museum; they are by Jan de Bisschop, a Dutch artist who died in 1686, and were probably made from the original large compositions when they were in Amsterdam. They are pen drawings washed with bistre, and are executed with great detail (#Pl. 7#).[60] The “Riches” shows several minor differences and some additions when compared with the Louvre drawing. Two new characters are introduced, Phileas and Leo Pisanus, their heads appearing before and behind the charioteer, as well as Heliogabalus and some unnamed persons; there is a parrot on the tree in the background (as in the Vorsterman drawing), while the tree itself is much larger and more finished. All goes to prove, in short, that the Louvre drawing and the copy of it in the British Museum represent Holbein’s study for the painting, while the Bisschop drawings were made from the paintings themselves, and the Vorsterman drawings either from the finished works or from Zuccaro’s copies of them, and represent the final designs.[61] The British Museum possesses a third copy of the “Triumph of Poverty,” made by Matthäus Merian the Younger in 1640, when the picture was still in London.[62]

Footnote 59:

Reproduced by Ganz, Holbein, p. 175.

Footnote 60:

Both reproduced by Ganz, Holbein, pp. 176-7.

Footnote 61:

See the British Museum Catalogue, i. p. 343.

Footnote 62:

A small version of the “Riches” until recently belonged to Mr. Edwin Seward, F.R.I.B.A., of Cardiff.

It has been noted in an earlier chapter that Holbein, in his wall-paintings, was influenced by the example of Andrea Mantegna, whose “Triumph of Cæsar” had a European reputation. The Steelyard allegories were compositions of a similar nature, though in no sense copies of any earlier Italian work. The “Triumph of Riches” represents a crowded procession moving towards the spectator’s left. The magnificent chariot of Plutus, drawn by four white horses, is followed and surrounded by the most famous men of wealth of antiquity. The god of riches himself, old, bent, and bald, is seated on a high seat at the back of the car, with his feet on a sack of gold. In front of him sits Fortune on a globe, blindfolded,[63] her veil blown out like a sail, and stooping down to scatter gold among the crowd; and in front of her sits the Charioteer, named Ratio, holding the reins, which are labelled Notitia and Voluntas. The two near horses, Impostura and Contractus, are led by Bona Fides and Justitia, two finely designed figures of women, while two other women, Liberalitas and Æqualitas, are mounted on the off horses, Avaritia and Usura, which they urge along with short whips. On either side of the chariot walk Simonides, Sichaeus, Leo Byzantius, Bassa, Themistocles, Pythius, Crispinus, Ventidius, who holds up his toga to catch the coins Fortune is scattering, Gadareus and others, some of them bent down with the weight of gold they are carrying in sacks or large purses. Behind the car rides Crœsus, a majestic, crowned figure, his horse led by Narcissus, with Cleopatra, Midas, Tantalus, and other riders bringing up the rear. On the extreme right of the composition Nemesis hovers over them in the clouds. To each figure a label with the name is attached, all of which are not given on the Louvre drawing, but are found in the Vorsterman and Bisschop copies. On the extreme left, in the sky, is a large cartellino,[64] with a Latin inscription of two lines in Roman characters:—

“Avrvm blanditiæ pater est natvsq. doloris Qvi caret hoc moeret qvi tenet hic metvit.”

This sentence was also written up over the central door of the Steelyard Guildhall, and has been ascribed, according to Walpole, to Sir Thomas More, but this appears to be a legend without any real foundation in fact.

Footnote 63:

In the original drawing. In the Bisschop copy her head is raised, and she is not blindfolded.

Footnote 64:

Not shown in the Louvre drawing.

[Sidenote: THE “TRIUMPH OF POVERTY”]

Both compositions were of the same height, but the “Triumph of Riches” was much the longer of the two, so that they must have been painted to fill particular and prescribed wall-spaces in the Hall. Probably the “Riches” occupied the place of honour on one of the long walls, opposite the windows, with the “Poverty” at one of the ends of the room. The latter, according to Dr. Ganz, came first, as the heads of a number of the figures in the foreground are turned backwards as though looking across the room at the other procession following them. In the “Triumph of Poverty,” in which the procession moves in the same direction, from right to left, the central figure is Poverty, an old woman, lean, and bare to the waist, seated in a rough waggon with upright poles bearing a canopy of straw. Over her head is a label with the Greek title “Πενια.” Behind her sits Infortunium, striking with a rod at the heads of the crowd of poverty-stricken, half-naked figures following the cart, among whom are an old man, Mendicitas, and an old woman, Miseria. In front of Poverty sits Industria, distributing instruments of labour, hammers, chisels, flails, squares, and other tools to the poor workmen walking below, and she is supported by Usus and Memoria. The cart is driven by Spes, who looks up towards heaven, and is drawn by two oxen, Negligentia and Pigritia, in the shafts, and two asses, Stupiditas and Ignavia, as leaders. These steeds are led by four finely designed female figures, Moderatio, with a whip, Diligentia, Solicitudo, and Labor, the last carrying a heavy spade. Behind Labor walks a young man with a basket of carpenter’s tools, and a flail over his shoulder. On a tree in the left background hangs a large wooden tablet with a long Latin inscription, also attributed to Sir Thomas More, beginning:

“Mortalivm jvcvnditas volvcris et pendvla Movetvr instar tvrbinis quam nix agit sedvla,” &c.[65]

Footnote 65:

The lines are quoted in full by Wornum, p. 265, and Woltmann, i. p. 385.

From the Louvre sketch in particular, but also from the numerous more or less faithful copies, sufficient evidence of the fine decorative character of the originals, their sense of rhythmic movement, their creative power and imagination, and the nobility of their design, can be obtained. The allegories they set forth were plain enough to read. They pointed out the instability of fortune and glory, and the virtue to be found in honest poverty, and warned the merchants who daily looked upon them, and whose avocations were the making of money, against undue arrogance in prosperity or needless despondency in adversity. “Both pieces,” says Van Mander, who describes them with some care, “were excellently arranged, freely drawn, and well delineated.” The colour-scheme appears to have matched the fine decorative qualities of the design. The compositions were not carried out in natural colours as in a picture. They were painted in greyish monochrome, with colour sparingly used. The background was blue, green was used in the trees, and the horses which drew the chariot of Plutus were white. The flesh tints of the numerous figures were rendered naturally, but the garments they wore were in monochrome, ornamented at the borders with gold, which was also used in other parts of the canvas with excellent effect, so that the paintings, when in position on the walls, must have added to the rich and brilliant appearance of the room, with its sideboards covered with silver plate and pewter ware.

We have one other record of a commission given to Holbein by the Steelyard. This was the design for the triumphal arch which they erected on Saturday, May 31st, 1533, when Anne Boleyn rode in procession from the Tower through the City to Westminster for her coronation. From a letter written by Chapuys, the Imperial Ambassador in London, to Charles V, dated May 18th in that year, it is evident that the Germans were not anxious to incur the cost of this decoration; but the Londoners, who had contributed 5000 ducats towards the festivities, of which 3000 were for a present to the new Queen, were determined to make all the inhabitants, irrespective of nationality, pay their due share.

“The Easterlings,” says Chapuys, “as being subjects of your Majesty, would like to be excused, but the great privileges they enjoy here prevent them from objecting.”[66]

Footnote 66:

C.L.P., vol. vi. 508.

[Sidenote: “APOLLO AND THE MUSES”]

Having determined to do it, however, they did it well, as contemporary records bear witness. Stow tells us that Anne, after being greeted at Fenchurch Street by the children of the City Schools, was still more splendidly welcomed at the corner of Gracechurch Street, “where was a costly and marvellous cunning pageant made by the merchants of the Stilyard: therein was the Mount Parnassus, with the Fountaine of Helicon, which was of white marble, and four streames without pipe did rise an ell high, and mette together in a little cup above the fountaine, which fountaine ranne abundantly with Reynish wine till night. On the mountaine sat Apollo, and at his feete sate Caliope; and on every side of the mountaine sate four Muses, playing on severell sweet instruments, and all their jestes, epigrams, and poesies were wrytten in golden letters, in the which every Muse, according to her property, praysed the Queene.” Camusat, in his narrative, says: “In all open places were scaffolds, on which mysteries were played; and fountains poured forth wine. Along the streets all the merchants were stationed.”

This triumphal arch was designed by Holbein. His original sketch for it, formerly in the Crozat collection, and more recently in that of the late Herr Rudolph Weigel, of Leipzig, is now in the Berlin Print Room (#Pl. 8#).[67] In its details it corresponds almost exactly with Stow’s description. In the centre Apollo is seated on a rock, beneath a slight bower or baldachin consisting of thin pillars supporting slender arches wreathed with leaves, across which hangs a scroll-shaped tablet for an inscription, the whole surmounted by a two-headed Imperial eagle. Apollo holds a small harp on his left knee, and with his right hand directs the music of the attendant Muses, who are grouped beneath him, five on the left hand and four on the right, on either side of a fountain of fine Renaissance design, in which the wine is falling from the smaller upper basin into the larger one beneath. The two front figures, Calliope and Polyhymnia, are seated, with lute and viol. Four of the others are singing, and the remainder playing various musical instruments, one with both a trumpet and a small drum. Apollo, crowned with a wreath, is clad in classical costume, but the ladies are wearing dresses of Holbein’s day. On either side of the group rise two tall candelabra, with blank shields for coats of arms, surmounted with royal crowns. In the background rocky mountains are indicated. The whole composition is supported by a central arch, of rich Renaissance design, shown in perspective, with a large blank tablet, to contain words of welcome, at its crown, and there are indications of smaller arches on either side. Thus it is evident that the decoration was not a painted one, but was a solid structure built across the street, under which the royal carriage would pass, and that Apollo and the Muses were represented by living persons, who played their instruments as the procession went by, while the white marble fountain splashed its Rhenish wine.

Footnote 67:

Woltmann, 175. Reproduced by Ganz, Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng., Pl. 30, and in Holbein, p. 178; Davies, p. 146; His, Pl. 51.

The sketch is a very hasty one, but would be quite sufficient to indicate to the Steelyard the artist’s intentions. Holbein himself, no doubt, superintended the erection of the archway. Slight as it is, it is masterly in draughtsmanship, displaying Holbein’s delicacy and certainty of touch in every stroke. The two seated figures, more particularly the one on the right, are rapidly drawn with the greatest grace and charm. According to Woltmann the Imperial eagle on the summit has only one head; the drawing is rubbed at the top, but there seem to be indications that the split or two-headed bird, which was then customary, was intended. Mr. W. F. Dickes denies that this drawing was intended for the Steelyard arch; he considers it to be a sketch for one of the Apollo musical festivals of Holbein’s Guild “zum Himmel” at Basel, and uses it as a proof that the painter had returned to his adopted city in 1533.[68] He bases this on an entry in the Banner Book of the Guild, dated November 23rd, 1533, which he reads as a payment to Holbein for banners painted for some festivity.[69] The symbol of the Basel Painters’ Guild was a pigeon with outstretched wings, within a wreath or bower, and Mr. Dickes sees in the eagle of the Berlin drawing, which is not within a bower, the pigeon of the Guild. He states, too, that as the Hanseatic League included merchants of other than German nationality they would have been unwilling to use an emblem so limiting as the Imperial bird. This statement is, however, incorrect. No doubt exists as to the use of the eagle on this particular occasion. It was, indeed, viewed with extreme distaste by the new Queen. Eustace Chapuys, writing to Charles V on July 11th, less than six weeks after the event, says: “I understand the lady (i.e., Anne) complains daily of the Easterlings, who on the day of her entry had set the Imperial eagle predominant over the King’s arms and hers.... This may serve as an indication of her perverse and malicious nature.”[70] And again, on the 30th of the same month, he returns to the same subject: “... the Lady who, as I am told, was not at all pleased with the Easterlings and other Germans for bringing me to see their fleet, which is greater than any that has been seen here for a long time; or that, at a solemn banquet which they made, the ships did march with their artillery. She is in a still worse humour because this was done near Greenwich park; and this has renewed the regret she felt for the eagle which the Easterlings carried in triumph the day of her entry here.”[71] These letters afford additional evidence that Holbein made this drawing for the occasion of Anne’s coronation, and that it has nothing to do with Basel or the Zunft zum Himmel.

Footnote 68:

Dickes, Holbein’s “Ambassadors” Unriddled, p. 3.

Footnote 69:

This point is dealt with in a later chapter. See pp. 157-158.

Footnote 70:

C.L.P., vol. vi. 805.

Footnote 71:

C.L.P., vol. vi. 918.

[Sidenote: “APOLLO AND THE MUSES”]

The Imperial two-headed eagle was also carved in stone over the principal entrance to the Steelyard. The old device had disappeared in the course of time, but in 1670 a new one was placed in position. The following item occurs in a series of accounts still extant in connection with the Steelyard buildings of that period: “December 31st, 1670. To Gabriel Cibbert, stone-cutter,—for the eagle put on over the gate from Thames Street, fixed on John Balls buildings, £5.” Caius Gabriel Cibber, a native of Holstein, and father of Colley Cibber, was a sculptor of some merit who practised in London. This sculptured shield-shaped stone, bearing an eagle displayed with a crowned collar and two heads, surrounded by an inscription, was also removed in course of time, and was recently found by Mr. Lawrence Weaver in the garden of Bickley Hall, Kent.[72]

Footnote 72:

See Dr. Philip Norman’s paper, already quoted, in Archæologia, vol. lxi. pt. 2, p. 406, in which the shield is reproduced.

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XVII. “THE TWO AMBASSADORS,” 1533

Holbein receives the offer of a yearly pension from the Basel Town Council—“The Two Ambassadors”—The identity of the sitters—History and description of the picture—Other portraits of Dinteville and the members of his family—Félix Chrétien—Mr. Dickes’ theory that the picture represents the Princes Palatine Otto Henry and Philipp—The “Portrait of a Musician” at Bulstrode Park.

THROUGHOUT the earlier years of Holbein’s second sojourn in England, though he was busily occupied on work for the German merchants of the Steelyard, his time was by no means completely taken up with the commissions they gave him both individually and as a corporate body. During the same period he painted the portraits of more than one Englishman and several foreigners of distinction.

[Sidenote: LETTER OF RECALL FROM BASEL]

As already pointed out, he probably returned to England during the first months of 1532. It is to be presumed that he arrived thus early—or even in the late autumn of the previous year—or otherwise it is difficult to account for the letter of recall, dated 2nd September 1532, which was sent to him in England by the Burgomaster of Basel, Jakob Meyer—not his old patron, Meyer zum Hasen, but Jakob Meyer zum Hirschen—on behalf of the Council. Such a letter would hardly have been written if he had been absent from Basel for only a month or two. It is probable that the best part of a year would be allowed to elapse before a recall was sent to him. It runs as follows:

“Master Hans Holbein, the painter, now in England.

“We, Jacob Meiger, Burgomaster, and the Council of the City of Basel, send greeting to our dear citizen, Hans Holbein, and let you herewith know that it would please us if you would repair home as soon as possible. In that case, in order that you may the better stay at home and support your wife and children, we will furnish you yearly with thirty pieces of money, until we are able to take care of you better.

We have wished to inform you of this, in order that you may conform to our desire. Dated Monday, 2nd September 1532.”[73]

Footnote 73:

Woltmann, English translation, p. 336. Original text in Woltmann, i. 363, and Wornum, p. 265.

The offer contained in this letter, which, though its terms were not lavish, was a proof that his fellow-citizens appreciated his art and were anxious to induce him to reside permanently in Basel, was not tempting enough to induce Holbein to leave England. Whatever his answer may have been—for it is to be presumed that he received the letter, though there is no actual evidence to show that he did so—the Council’s request proved ineffectual. He must have felt that it would be folly to abandon regular and remunerative employment in London for doubtful and ill-paid municipal commissions in Switzerland, more particularly as he had so recently formed a new and lucrative connection with the Steelyard, while memories of the bad times lately encountered in Basel were still vivid.

As already pointed out, the only three portraits by him bearing the date 1532 are of German merchants. In the following year, however, more than one fine work affords proof that the Steelyard was by no means his only source of income. His most important undertaking in 1533 was the large double portrait generally known as “The Two Ambassadors,” now in the National Gallery, for which it was purchased, in 1890, with two other pictures, from the fifth Earl of Radnor, for £55,000, of which £25,000 was contributed by the State, and £30,000 by Messrs. Nathaniel Rothschild & Sons, Lord Iveagh, and Mr. Charles Cotes. The addition of this great painting to the national collections, in which, until then, Holbein had been unrepresented, aroused much curiosity as to the personality of the two sitters. Many attempts were made to identify them, and numerous solutions of the riddle were suggested in letters to the Times and other papers and reviews. Magazine articles were written about it, and, lastly, two volumes of considerable size were published with this picture as their sole subject. Probably no other painting in the world has produced so great a mass of literature.

The two men represented are Frenchmen: Jean de Dinteville, Lord of Polisy, and Bailly of Troyes, and, at the time the picture was painted, resident French ambassador in London, and his close friend George de Selve, afterwards Bishop of Lavaur, who came over to England in the spring of 1533 on a short visit to the Bailly. The painting (#Pl. 9#),[74] which is on ten vertical panels of oak, is 6 ft. 10 in. high by 6 ft. 10¼ in. wide, and is thus described in the National Gallery catalogue:

Footnote 74:

Woltmann, 215. Reproduced by Davies, p. 152; Miss Hervey, Holbein’s Ambassadors, frontispiece; Dickes, frontispiece; Ganz, Holbein, p. 103; and elsewhere.

“The scene is a chamber paved with inlaid marbles, and hung with green damask, which in the upper left-hand corner partly reveals a silver crucifix attached to the wall behind. In the centre of the composition is a wooden stand, having an upper and a lower shelf. To the left of this, leaning his arm upon it, stands Jean de Dinteville, a young man with dark-brown eyes and beard, in a rich costume of the period of Henry VIII, wearing a heavy gold chain with the badge of the French order of Saint-Michel, and, on his right side, depending from his girdle, a dagger with wrought gold hilt and sheath: on the sheath the inscription—ÆT. SVÆ 29. in relief. In his black bonnet is a jewel formed of a silver skull set in gold. To the right, George de Selve, dark-eyed, with a close beard, also leans upon the stand, or, more immediately, on a clasped book, the edges of which are inscribed: ÆTATIS SVÆ 25. He wears a four-cornered black cap, and a loose, long-sleeved gown of mulberry and black brocade, lined with sable, and reaching to the ground. Both these persons regard the spectator. The upper shelf of the stand is covered with a Turkish rug, on which are several mathematical and astronomical instruments, and, close to the principal personage, a celestial globe. The lower shelf bears a case of flutes, a lute, an open music-book containing part of the score and words of the Lutheran hymn, ‘Komm, heiliger Geist,’ a smaller book, on arithmetic, kept partly open by a small square, a pair of compasses, and a terrestrial hand-globe, which is in a direct line below the other globe. Under the stand lies the lute-case. Conspicuous in the foreground is the anamorphosis, or perspectively distorted image, of a human skull, which, touching the floor on the left, stretches obliquely upwards towards the right. In the shadow cast on the floor by the chief personage is the inscription—‘JOANNES HOLBEIN PINGEBAT 1533’ in sloping Roman letters.” To this it should be added that Dinteville’s dress consists of a slashed doublet of rose-coloured satin, and a black surcoat. The latter is lined with ermine, with which the shoulder-puffs, further adorned with gold tags, are piped. A large gold and green silk tassel, of very fine execution, hangs, with the dagger, from his girdle, and he also wears a sword, only the hilt and sheathed point of which are seen.

[Sidenote: HISTORY OF THE PICTURE]

All that was known about the picture at the time of its purchase for the National Gallery was that at the end of the eighteenth century it was in the possession of Jean Batiste Pierre Le Brun, the Parisian picture-dealer, and husband of the well-known portrait-painter, Madame Vigée Le Brun. Le Brun issued a very indifferent engraving of it by J. A. Pierron in Part XII (dated 1790) of his “Galerie des Peintres Flamands, Hollandais et Allemands.” In the index it was described as representing “MM. de Selve et d’Avaux; l’un, Ambassadeur à Venise, l’autre, dans les pays du Nord, avec les attributs des Arts qu’ils cultivaient; on voit à terre une Tête de Mort en perspective, à prendre de l’angle gauche, qui de face ressemble à un poisson.” When the publication was issued in volume form in 1792, with text, Le Brun slightly amplified this note, and added “J’ai depuis vendu ce tableau pour l’Angleterre, où il est maintenant; les figures sont de grandeur naturelle.” He gives no information as to the source from which he obtained the picture. It is stated in the National Gallery catalogue that it is probable that it came into the hands of the dealer Vandergucht, and that from him it was purchased by the second Earl of Radnor, about 1790 or 1795; but from the account books of Longford Castle it would appear that it was sold to the Earl by the dealer Buchanan, who received one thousand guineas for it, the payments being made in 1808 and 1809.

During the years the picture remained in Longford Castle many guesses were made as to the identity of the personages. Le Brun’s title, which, after all, contained half the truth, was not accepted by the leading critics, largely owing, no doubt, to the fact that the title of Avaux did not exist until more than a hundred years after the picture was painted, so that, the one name being impossible, the other was included in the same category. In the end, a suggestion that the man on the left of the picture was Sir Thomas Wyat was regarded as a very possible solution. Mr. Wornum, in his book published in 1867, gave this attribution a qualified acceptance—“the subject is doubtful, but it is supposed to represent Sir Thomas Wyatt, the poet and diplomatist, and some learned friend”[75]—and Dr. Woltmann followed suit, but went a step further, suggesting John Leland, the antiquary, as the second figure.[76] Both identifications, however, were shown to be inaccurate by Mr. J. Gough Nichols in a paper contributed to Archæologia in 1873;[77] but he could offer no name in substitution, and so the matter stood until the purchase of the picture for the nation.

Footnote 75:

Wornum, p. 275.

Footnote 76:

Woltmann, i. 374.

Footnote 77:

Archæologia, vol. xliv. pt. ii. pp. 450-55.

[Sidenote: THE IDENTITY OF THE SITTERS]

The public exhibition of this splendid example of Holbein’s art produced a long and interesting correspondence in the Times newspaper. Sir J. C. Robinson upheld Dr. Woltmann’s belief that the two men were Wyat and Leland, but Sir Sidney Colvin,[78] by means of convincing proofs, showed that this attribution was untenable, as also that of Le Brun. He gave, at the same time, four reasons for supposing that the personage on the left was really a Frenchman and an ambassador—(1) the traditional title; (2) its having been sold into this country from France; (3) the wearing of the French order of Saint-Michel; and (4) the close resemblance in dress and fashion of the personage in question and the portrait of another French Ambassador, the “Morette” at Dresden. He proposed, as a probable solution, the name of Jean de Dinteville—a suggestion which afterwards proved to be the correct one. When, in August 1891, the picture was cleaned, and the name of Polisy, Dinteville’s birthplace, an obscure village in Burgundy, was discovered on the terrestrial globe, the only other French towns upon it being Paris, Lyon and Bayonne, the identity of the left-hand figure was placed almost beyond doubt. Sir Sidney also suggested that the second person might be Nicolas Bourbon, the French poet.

Footnote 78:

The Times, September 1890.

Other attempted identifications included such divers personages as Lord Rochford, brother of Anne Boleyn; Count Balthazar Castiglione, who came to England to receive the Order of the Garter for the Duke of Urbino; and Guillaume and Jean du Bellay. The last-named solution was published in a pamphlet in 1890 by Mr. Elias Dexter, under the title of Holbein’s Ambassadors Identified. The writer sought to prove that the National Gallery picture and the one engraved for Le Brun were not the same, and that there must be two versions of the subject in existence. This contention he based on a number of slight differences between the accessories in the picture and in Pierron’s print, but such differences may be easily explained by the inferiority of the engraver’s work and the unusual complexity of the many details. To prove the identity of the two sitters with the brothers Du Bellay, who in 1533 were about 42 and 41 years of age respectively, he was obliged to declare the inscriptions on the dagger and the book to be forgeries. It is true that Jean du Bellay was in England in that year for a short time, and this is Mr. Dexter’s sole evidence, though he professes to see a strong likeness between the two ambassadors and the portraits of the brothers Du Bellay engraved on the same plate in the ninth volume of the Versailles Gallery.

A much more elaborate theory was advanced by Mr. W. F. Dickes in three articles in the Magazine of Art, and in several letters to the Times in answer to critics unfriendly to his attempted solution of the riddle. His contention is that the picture was painted as a memorial of the Treaty of Nuremberg between the Catholics and Protestants in 1532, and that the two persons represented are the brothers Otto Henry and Philipp of Neuburg, Counts Palatine of the Rhine. This theory he still further elaborated in a book published in 1903 under the title of Holbein’s Ambassadors Unriddled. His arguments, however, are singularly unconvincing, and have failed to obtain the support of any serious student of Holbein. Before dealing with them, however, it will be better to give a brief account of the discoveries of Miss Mary F. S. Hervey, by means of which the identity of Holbein’s two sitters was finally set at rest. Her account of her discovery of a document which provided conclusive evidence that the two Ambassadors were Jean de Dinteville and George de Selve was communicated to the Times,[79] and this, together with further corroborative evidence, was embodied in a book, Holbein’s Ambassadors: the Picture and the Men, published in 1900.

Footnote 79:

The Times, December 7, 1895.

In 1895 Miss Hervey happened to come across a copy of the Revue de Champagne et de Brie for 1888, which gave a short notice of a picture formerly preserved at Polisy, containing the portraits of Jean de Dinteville and George de Selve. This paragraph was based on a catalogue published in March 1888 by M. Saffroy, an antiquarian bookseller of Pré-Saint-Gervais, in which a seventeenth-century parchment, describing the picture, was offered for sale. Miss Hervey hastened to communicate with M. Saffroy, and by one of those happy chances which seldom occur, the document was still in his possession, and proved to contain exactly the information which had so long been sought in vain. The following is a translation of its complete text as given by Miss Hervey:—

“[Remarks on the subject of an excellent picture of the Sieurs d’Inteville Polizy, and George de Selve Bishop of Lavour, showing the offices they held, and the time of their decease.]

“In this picture is represented, life-size, Messire Jean de DIntevile chevalier Sieur de Polizy, near Bar-sur-Seyne, Bailly of Troyes, who was Ambassador in England for King Francis I in the years 1532 [O.S.] and 1533 and since Gouverneur of Monsieur Charles de France, second son (sic) of the said King; the said Charles died at Forest Monstier in the year 1545, and the said Sr. de DIntvile in the year 1555. Interred in the Church of the said Polizy. There is also represented in the said picture Messire George de Selve, Bishop of Lavaur, a personage of great learning and virtue, who was Ambassador with the Emperor Charles V; the said Bishop was the son of Messire Jean de Selve, Premier President of the Parliament of Paris; the said Bishop died in 1541, having in the above-mentioned year 1532, or 1533, gone to England by permission of the King, to visit the said Sieur de DIntevile, his intimate friend, and also of all his family; and they two having met in England an excellent Dutch painter, employed him to make this picture, which has been carefully preserved at the same place, Polizy, up to the year 1653.”

The manuscript consists of an oblong piece of parchment which may have been cut from an inventory, but it is more probable that it was written as a descriptive label to be attached to the picture-frame, after the picture’s removal from Polisy in 1653. The latter supposition would account for the fact that no mention is made of the place where the picture then was, which would, of course, be unnecessary. The authenticity of this document has been pronounced by the British Museum authorities to be indisputable. The body of it was written just after the middle of the seventeenth century, while the heading was added at a slightly later date, at a time, no doubt, when the label had become separated from the picture.

[Sidenote: THE PICTURE AT POLISY]

In her book Miss Hervey gives a long and interesting account of the lives of the two men. It is sufficient to state here that Jean de Dinteville was born in September 1504, and was therefore in his twenty-ninth year when he came to England as resident French ambassador in February 1533; and that the name “Polisy” is given a prominent place on the terrestrial globe placed near him in the picture. The second sitter, George de Selve, was appointed to the see of Lavaur in 1526, when he was in his eighteenth year, but was only consecrated in 1534, when he was in his twenty-sixth year, which exactly agrees with the inscription on the picture, which states that he was then in his twenty-fifth year.[80] Further evidence exists in the shape of a grant from the Pope to De Selve, dated May 1526, permitting him to hold several benefices “although only seventeen years old.” The fact that he was not consecrated until the year after the picture was painted, although appointed to the see of Lavaur in 1526, explains why Holbein has not represented him in episcopal robes.

Footnote 80:

See Gallia Christiana (Lutetiæ, 1715), vol. xiii. (1722), p. 344. Ecclesia Vaurensis, No. xxi., Georgius de Selve. (Quoted by Miss Hervey, p. 13.)

This document is confirmed by a further discovery by Miss Hervey of a Mémoire preserved in the Bibliothèque de l’Institut at Paris, which gives a summary of three letters concerning the picture. The letters themselves, which so far, with possibly one exception, have not yet been discovered, were addressed by Nicolas Camusat, the antiquary, canon of Troyes, and an intimate friend of the Dinteville family for many years, to his friends the Godefroy brothers, to whom and to others he constantly supplied antiquarian and genealogical information. His letters relating to Polisy extended from 1607 to 1655.

The following is a translation of the memorandum:

“Memoir in explanation of three letters sent by Monsr. Camusat, Canon of St. Pierre at Troyes, [touching a picture made in England of George de Selve, Bp. of Lavaur, who had gone thither to visit the Bailly of Troies, Sr. de Polizi, Jean d’Inteville, at that time the King’s ambassador].

“There are two relating to the Bishop of Lavaur, George de Selve, son of Mr. le Premier President de Selve, which Bishop had been invited by Mr. de Polizy, bailly of Troyes, ambassador in England in the years 1532 [O.S.] and 1533, to visit him in England, which he did, having first taken leave of the King. And being in England, they had made the excellent picture by a Dutch painter, Holben, which picture was preserved in the House of Polizy, distant but one league from Bar-sur-Seine, a hundred and forty [sic] years and more, as belonging to the Seigneur of the place, Sr. de Sessac, until the year 1653, when he had it removed to Paris, to his house near the parish of St. Sulpice; the said picture representing the said Sr. de Polizy, Jean de d’Inteville, and the said Sr. Bishop of Lavaur, who was afterwards ambassador with Charles V; and the said Bishop died in 1541. The said picture is considered the finest piece of painting in France in the opinion of the best painters. M. le Mareschal du Plessis-Praslain not long since bought the estate of Polisy for three hundred thousand livres from the said Sr. de Sessac.

“Mr. de Vic, garde des sceaux, formerly said that it was the most beautiful piece of painting in France.

“Mr. George de Selve, and his brothers, worthily served France in various embassies and legations.”

In this document the name of the painter, “Holben,” is given; it is inserted between the lines, but is in the same hand and of the same date as the writing which surrounds it. The portion at the head of the memorandum between brackets is by another hand. It is interesting to note that not only is the name of the painter given but that in the seventeenth century Holbein’s work was considered, both by painters and amateurs, to be the finest picture then in France. There is in the Godefroy collection a second paper, a copy, dated 1654, of a memorandum drawn up by Camusat, in which there is further reference to the picture. It need not be quoted here, but it speaks of the figures as life-size, and concludes by saying that “the piece is esteemed the richest and best wrought that is to be found in France.”[81]

Footnote 81:

See Miss Hervey, Holbein’s Ambassadors, p. 18 et seq., where both documents are reproduced in facsimile.

Thus the identity of Holbein’s sitters is irrefutably established, and the picture’s history can now be traced almost without a break. Dinteville, who had already been in England on a short mission in 1531, reached London at the beginning of February 1533, and was lodged in the royal palace of Bridewell, by the Thames. The exact date of George de Selve’s visit to him is not known, but it was between February and Easter in that year; he was back in France before the end of May. There appears to have been some secrecy in connection with the latter’s journey to England, for though he had the permission of Francis I, for some reason Montmorency, the Grand Master, was, if possible, to be kept in ignorance of it. In a letter, dated 23rd May, to his brother, the Bishop of Auxerre, Dinteville says: “Monsr. de Lavor m’a fait cest honneur que de me venir veoir, qui ne m’a esté petit plaisir. Il n’est point de besoing que Mr. le grant maistre en entende rien.”[82]

Footnote 82:

From a letter in the Dupuy Collection, Paris, Bibl. Nat., vol. 726, f. 46, quoted by Miss Hervey, p. 80.

[Sidenote: JEAN DE DINTEVILLE AND HOLBEIN]

It is impossible to say in what way Dinteville became acquainted with Holbein, or to whose offices the introduction between ambassador and painter was due. Dinteville counted among his friends more than one of Holbein’s sitters, while he was, no doubt, well acquainted with Niklaus Kratzer through his keen interest in mechanics and the various astronomical and mathematical sciences. He had thus more than one opportunity of seeing examples of Holbein’s skill in portraiture, and it is to be gathered that he conceived a great admiration for it, for otherwise he would not have ordered so large and important a portrait group of himself and his friend. With the exception of the “Duchess of Milan,” the More family group, and the now lost “Fitzwilliam, Earl of Southampton,” of which there is a good copy in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, the “Ambassadors” is the only portrait-panel painted by Holbein in England of which there is any record in which the figures are shown both life-size and at full-length. As there is no reference in the State papers of England or France to the semi-secret business which brought George de Selve over to London, the suggestion may be hazarded that he came for the express purpose of having his portrait painted, Dinteville urging him to do so on account of the excellent painter he had discovered. The picture, crowded as it is with intricate accessories, must have taken a considerable time to complete. It was, no doubt, painted in the Ambassador’s own room in Bridewell Palace, and the sitter and the painter must have spent long hours in planning out and arranging the many mathematical and scientific instruments which form so important a feature of the panel, some of which may have been lent by or purchased from Kratzer. The visit of the future Bishop of Lavaur was so short that he can hardly have seen more than the beginning of the work and the finishing of his own head and hands. No doubt Holbein followed his usual practice and made preliminary studies of the two heads, but these drawings have not been traced, although there is a very fine unnamed study in the Windsor collection (Pl. 36 (1))[83] which is supposed to represent Jean de Dinteville, the features showing sufficient resemblance to those of the Bailly of Troyes to induce the suggestion that it represents him at a later date. Both Sir Sidney Colvin and Miss Hervey hold this opinion, as did the late Sir Frederick Burton; but it must be confessed that the resemblance is not very striking.[84] The Windsor drawing is of a man considerably older than the Dinteville of the picture; but the Bailly, after his residence in this country throughout the greater part of 1533, paid only three short visits to London between the years 1535 and 1537. Even if the drawing had been made by Holbein in the last-named year he would only have been in his thirty-third year. A miniature or portrait, painted by Holbein from this drawing, was in the Arundel Collection, and was engraved by Hollar. It is highly improbable, too, that after he had been so elaborately painted Dinteville would have sat again for his portrait a few years later, so that, all things considered, this attribution can only be accepted with caution. There is, however, an undoubted portrait of Dinteville at Chantilly, forming part of the collection of drawings of the ladies and gentlemen of the Court of Francis I, by Jean Clouet and his school, which was formerly at Castle Howard. This portrait was identified by Miss Hervey in 1904.[85] The likeness is very marked, though the drawing lacks the strength and fine draughtsmanship to be found in similar portrait-studies by Holbein, and it appears to have been done within a few years of the picture itself.

Footnote 83:

Woltmann, 345; Wornum, i. 12; Holmes, i. 52; engraved by Hollar, 1649 (Parthey, 1547). Reproduced by Miss Hervey, p. 110; Ganz, Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng., No. 33; Mantz, p. 177. Hollar’s engraving reproduced by Ganz, Holbein, p. 199 (i.).

Footnote 84:

The drawing was conjectured at one time to represent Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, and it has also been suggested that it is a likeness of Edward Stafford, Duke of Buckingham. It is described on p. 257.

Footnote 85:

Burlington Magazine, vol. v. No. xvi. (July 1904), where the drawing is reproduced.

[Sidenote: “THE COURT OF FRANCIS II”]

The picture was taken back to France by Dinteville, and remained at Polisy until the middle of the seventeenth century. By the marriage, in 1562, of Dinteville’s niece, Claude, with François de Cazillac, Baron de Cessac, the family estates, and with them the picture, passed into the possession of the latter house, a distinguished family in the south of France. In 1654 a later François de Cazillac sold Polisy, and permanently removed to the Château of Milhars in Languedoc, his chief residence. From the second document quoted above we learn that De Cessac removed the picture to his town house in Paris in 1653. This house was in the Rue du Four, St. Germain des Prez, behind the house known as Chapeaufort, in the parish of St. Sulpice.[86] From 1653 onwards there is no actual evidence as to the whereabouts of the picture until it turned up one hundred and twenty years later in the Beaujon sale in Paris in 1787. During his researches into its past history Mr. W. F. Dickes discovered this sale-catalogue in the Cabinet des Estampes in Paris.[87] Nicolas Beaujon, a rich financier and collector of pictures and objects of art, died without heirs in 1786, leaving all his money to charities. His pictures were sold in the following spring, and among them were two attributed to Holbein. These two works were not, apparently, part of Beaujon’s collection, but were put into the sale by some other person.[88] The first, which, according to the sale-catalogue, represented the Court of Francis II, has recently come to light again;[89] the second was the “Ambassadors” picture. The two were sold together in one lot for the insignificant sum of 602 francs, and the purchaser was evidently Le Brun. The description of the picture in the sale-catalogue tallies almost exactly with Le Brun’s description which accompanied Pierron’s engraving. From the sale-catalogue he obtained the supposed names of the sitters, “MM. de Selve et d’Avaux,” and he evidently endorsed, without troubling to make a careful examination of his own, the further statement of the catalogue that there was no date upon it. Probably the picture was in need of cleaning, so that both signature and date were obscured. Mr. Wornum discovered them in 1865, and they had been noted by others before that date. When the picture was acquired for the National Gallery, however, the signature had again become obscured by dirt, after the passage of some thirty years, and was only deciphered after re-cleaning.

Footnote 86:

See Miss Hervey, Holbein’s Ambassadors, pt. i. chap. ii. p. 21.

Footnote 87:

Dickes, p. 9.

Footnote 88:

See below, p. 46.

Footnote 89:

This picture, which is the subject of a very interesting article by Miss Mary F. S. Hervey and Mr. R. Martin-Holland in the Burlington Magazine for April 1911 (vol. xviii. No. xcvii. pp. 48-55), where it is reproduced, together with other works of its author, a forgotten French painter named Félix Chrétien, was described in the Beaujon catalogue as “The Court of Francis II and the principal nobles of that time, with the attributes of Moses and Aaron, who present themselves before the King of Egypt, who is Francis II himself; their names are written on the different contours of their robes,” &c. It further stated that it was “by the famous Holbein, towards 1552.” From the time of the Beaujon sale in 1787 all traces of this large panel painting—5 ft. 9 in. high by 6 ft. 2 in. wide—were lost, until it suddenly reappeared in Messrs. Christie’s saleroom on February 26, 1910, in company with the big group of Sir Thomas More and Family. In the catalogue it was given to Holbein, and was described as “Moses and Aaron before Pharaoh” (“a group of figures, said to represent King Henry VIII as Pharaoh,” &c.), and as formerly in the collection of the Prince de Cerny. The mystery of the picture’s meaning was cleared up, and the name of its painter discovered, by Miss Hervey and Mr. Martin-Holland, and will be found in their paper. It contains portraits of a number of the members of the Dinteville family, including the Bailly of Troyes, who appears as Moses, and his brother, François II, Bishop of Auxerre, as Aaron. The Pharaoh is evidently Francis I, though the likeness is by no means a good one. The names of most of the figures are given on the hems of their robes. The picture affords valuable additional proof of the identity of the personage on the spectator’s left in the “Ambassadors” with Jean de Dinteville, for the likeness is striking. The picture was painted in 1537, and remained in the possession of the Dinteville family, together with the greater work by Holbein, for exactly two hundred and fifty years. The identity of the picture with the one in the Beaujon sale was first pointed out by Mr. P. G. Konody (Burlington Magazine, vol. xix. No. xcviii., May 1911, p. 106). Félix Chrétien, the painter of it, was a chorister, and afterwards a canon of Auxerre, of which town he was probably a native. He was a protégé of the Bishop’s, and no doubt owed his training in art to him. Several of his pictures, considerably damaged, remain in the immediate district of Auxerre.

Although no actual proofs can be produced as to the whereabouts of the picture between 1653 and 1787, Miss Hervey, in the course of her researches into the history of the De Cessac family, discovered sufficient evidence to point to the probability that M. de Cessac took it with him to Milhars when he finally settled there a few years later, and that it remained there until shortly before the Beaujon sale. The Milhars estate descended from heir to heir of the house of Dinteville until 1765, when it was sold by the Marquis de Basville, who then represented the family. He was the intimate friend of Beaujon, who made him his executor, in which capacity he drew up the inventory of all the banker’s pictures and art objects. In this inventory, however, there is no trace of Holbein’s “Ambassadors” to be found, and the inference is that as it was included in the Beaujon sale three months later it was put into that sale by the executor himself. It seems certain, therefore, that from the time when the picture was taken from England by Dinteville in 1533 until it was sent back again by Le Brun more than two hundred and fifty years later it never once left France, but remained as a treasured possession in the family for whose ancestor it was painted.[90]

Footnote 90:

See Miss Hervey, pt. i. chap. ii.

[Sidenote: THE THEORIES OF MR. DICKES]

In spite of the conclusive proof brought forward by Miss Hervey, Mr. W. F. Dickes, in his book devoted to the unriddling of the “Ambassadors,” refused to abandon his theory of the Nuremberg Treaty, and still pinned his faith to his Princes Palatine Otto Henry and Philipp. It is essential to his theory that Holbein should be proved to have been absent from England in 1533, and he, therefore, gives it as his opinion that the Steelyard portraits of that year, and the Cheseman portrait,[91] were most probably painted abroad. He cites, as actual proof that Holbein was in Basel in 1533, in addition to the extract from the “Banner Book” referred to in the preceding chapter,[92] the “Wheel of Fortune” picture in distemper at Chatsworth, which is dated 1533, with the arms of Basel on the post supporting the wheel. “No one can doubt,” he says, “that it was painted by Holbein at Basel in 1533;”[93] but, as a matter of fact, it is not by Holbein at all, being far too poor a work to be from his hand, but by Hans Schaeufelin, and the initials “H. H.” on it are of later date. The monogram and the well-known mark, in the form of a shovel, of the latter painter, which have been tampered with, are still clearly discernible beneath the letters.[94]

Footnote 91:

See pp. 54-56.

Footnote 92:

Page 32. See also pp. 157-178.

Footnote 93:

Dickes, p. 6.

Footnote 94:

As pointed out by Mr. S. Arthur Strong in his preface to The Masterpieces of the Duke of Devonshire’s Collection of Pictures, 1901, and republished in Critical Studies and Fragments, 1905, p. 92, and Pl. viii. 1.

In his book Mr. Dickes abandons, or at least does not reprint, some of the more fantastic theories he advanced in his magazine articles; but in all that he has published on the subject his method of procedure is the simple one of denying the authenticity of all evidence which is destructive of his theory. Thus, he does not hesitate to declare the first document discovered by Miss Hervey to be an eighteenth-century forgery, and the two confirmatory papers amongst the Godefroy correspondence he places in the same category. With regard to the date and Holbein’s signature, he accepts as a fact the “staggering statement” of the Beaujon sale-catalogue that in 1787 the picture was unsigned and undated; and he infers that the inscription was added by Le Brun, and that the three documents discovered by Miss Hervey were all forgeries due to the same unscrupulous dealer. Why such an elaborate falsification should be thought necessary, and what purpose it served, unless merely to display the genealogical learning of the forger, Mr. Dickes fails to explain. When Le Brun issued his engraving in 1792, with a descriptive note lifted bodily from the Beaujon catalogue, and retaining the same title, “MM. de Selve et d’Avaux,” he had already sold the picture into England, so that to elaborate a series of forgeries in connection with it, and then scatter them about France and get them inserted among the papers of learned antiquaries, after the picture had left the country, would seem to be a very futile proceeding; and if he had added the date 1533 and a false signature to it before selling it he would surely have refrained from stating in his printed description of it that it was painted in “la manière dont il a marqué ses ouvrages HB. BH. 1515.” The whole theory, in fact, is absurd, as is Mr. Dickes’ further declaration that the name “Policy” on the globe is also a forgery due to Le Brun. The inscription on the book giving the age of George de Selve, “ætatis suæ 25,” is also a forgery according to the same authority, or rather, he holds that the last figure was originally an 8, but that it became damaged, and that when repaired it was altered to a 5 through the ignorance of the restorer. The alteration of the age from 25 to 28, it should be noted, is vital to Mr. Dickes’ argument, for otherwise the second figure cannot represent Count Philipp. Even this change, however, is not sufficient to put matters right, and so he assumes arbitrarily that although the picture was painted in 1533 (in spite of its forged date!) the ages of the sitters inscribed on the dagger and the book were purposely calculated from the previous year, in order to indicate that the painting was a memorial of the Nuremberg Treaty of 1532. Mr. Dickes professes to find further proofs of the ages of the sitters from the numerous accessories on the table. The cylindrical sundial is so arranged that it informs us that the sitter against whom it is placed was born on April 10th, about 10.30 P. M., in the latitude of Neuburg, which exactly agrees with the birth of Otto Henry, and this information is confirmed by the decagonal sundial further along the table. With respect to the second figure, the instruments are still more explicit, for the date, November 12th, is repeated no less than four times on Apian’s Torquetum, the astrolabe, and the quadrant, with the additional information that the hour of birth was between five and six, which exactly agrees with the day of the month and the hour of the birth of Philipp.[95]

Footnote 95:

The present writer, although he has made a careful study of Mr. Dickes’ readings of the instruments, has not sufficient scientific knowledge to speak with authority as to the correctness or otherwise of the results he obtains, which, if true, provide by far the most ingenious and, indeed, the only plausible evidence he has brought forward in favour of his theory. This evidence, however, is not always as convincing as he would have us to believe. Thus, the decagonal sundial, which on two of its sides gives the time as 10.30 (the hour of Otto Henry’s birth), very clearly indicates 9.30 on its third and most prominent side, while it almost touches the elbow of the second figure, and so should refer, if to any one, to Philipp. Mr. Dickes gets over this difficulty by the statement that the sundial, “presenting three circles to be read, naturally devotes the two chief dials to the principal person. These are—the dial with the wire stile, in front, and the dial beneath the magnet on the top;” but he offers no suggestion as to whose birth the third and most prominent dial refers.

[Sidenote: THE ACCESSORIES OF THE PICTURE]

Space does not permit even a brief reference to further erroneous inferences which Mr. Dickes draws from other parts of the picture, all of which were fully and finally dealt with by Sir Sidney Colvin in a review of the book.[96] Mr. Dickes by no means strengthens his case by reproducing a number of portraits, selected from various European galleries, in which he sees likenesses to his two heroes, though they bear but the faintest resemblance either to genuine portraits of the Counts Palatine or to the sitters in the “Ambassadors” picture.[97]

Footnote 96:

Burlington Magazine, August 1903, pp. 367-69.

Footnote 97:

The two most glaring examples of this, which show to what lengths a fixed idea can carry one, are the splendid portrait by Holbein of the Sieur de Morette, which he declares to be painted by Amberger, and to represent Otto Henry at some date after 1556, when he was Elector Palatine; and the beautiful little portrait of Hermann Wedigh, of the Steelyard, dated 1533, which, as already noted, he holds to be an unmistakable portrait of Philipp.

The book, in spite of the false theory on which it is based, displays much careful if misplaced research, and as, for this reason, it is apt to mislead those who have made no serious study of Holbein’s work, its arguments have been briefly dealt with here. Mr. Dickes, however, is not alone in refusing to accept Jean de Dinteville and George de Selve as the two ambassadors. Mrs. G. Fortescue, in her book on the painter,[98] holds that both Miss Hervey and Mr. Dickes are wrong; but she brings forward no names to take the place of those she condemns, and merely suggests, somewhat mysteriously, that later on she will produce facts which will provide the correct solution.

Footnote 98:

Holbein (“Little Books on Art”), 1904, p. 149.

Turning again to the picture itself, it is evident that the accessories, with which the table is crowded, both from their unusual number and character, were not collected at haphazard merely to afford an opportunity for displaying Holbein’s skill in depicting minutiæ, but that they represent the tastes and learned pursuits of the two sitters, and were selected and arranged by Dinteville himself. The prevailing love of allegory and symbolism, of the emblem or “devise,” which was a marked characteristic of that age, is apparent in many of the picture’s details, in some of them to be read plainly, in others so obscurely that it is now impossible to explain them satisfactorily. Miss Hervey has described them with care, and has elucidated much of their meaning and purpose. The appearance of the Death’s-head twice over in the picture—in the hat-medal worn by Dinteville and in the distorted skull in the foreground—seems to indicate that the ambassador had adopted it as his personal badge or devise. The picture, indeed, in its general arrangement bears considerable likeness to the woodcut in the “Dance of Death” series known as “The Arms of Death” (“Die Wappen des Todes”), as was first pointed out by Mr. Wornum.[99] This suggests the possibility that Dinteville had been shown, perhaps by Holbein himself, a proof set of the “Dance of Death” woodcuts, and that he had been greatly impressed by them. He suffered much from ill-health while in England, which may have had something to do with his choice of a device of so gloomy a nature.

Footnote 99:

Wornum, p. 181.

Certain of the instruments depicted are apparently set to indicate various dates, such as the birthdays of the sitters or important events in their lives, as pointed out by Mr. Dickes. The same instruments, together with the other objects, also represent certain of the Seven Liberal Arts—Music, Arithmetic, Geometry and Astronomy. The terrestrial globe is copied from Johann Schöner’s globe of 1523, to which about twenty names of towns have been added by Holbein, chiefly in France and Spain, selected by Dinteville as an epitome of the foreign relations of France in shaping which he had taken some share, the most important of these additions, as elucidating the identity of the chief sitter, being, of course, Polisy. The Lutheran hymn-book and the crucifix may be taken as symbolical of France’s religious diplomacy and the opinions of the two friends. The hope of religious union between the Roman Catholic and the Reformed Churches played a large part in the life of the Bishop of Lavaur. “To find means to promote that end was the object of his most earnest thought; to see it accomplished, the dearest wish of his heart.”[100] Dinteville, too, belonged to the liberal Catholic party in France, and shared the Bishop’s views. Mr. Barclay Squire first pointed out that the hymn-book in the picture was painted from a copy of Johann Walther’s Geystliche Gesangbüchlein, published at Wittemberg in 1524. The German arithmetic book was copied from a manual, The Merchant’s Arithmetic Book, by Peter Apian, published at Ingoldstadt in 1527. The badge of the order of St. Michael is worn by Dinteville without the collar of scallop-shells, and merely suspended from his neck by a gold chain. This was in accordance with the rules of the Order, which permitted it to be so worn when under arms, or when travelling, hunting, or when at home in private, or in other places where there was no company. Other details of the picture are equally interesting, more particularly the elaborate mosaic pavement, which Miss Hervey discovered to be an accurate copy of the well-known paved floor in the Sanctuary of Westminster Abbey, for the construction of which marbles and workmen were brought from Italy by Abbot Richard Ware in the reign of Henry III. This interesting discovery affords additional proof that the “Ambassadors” was painted in England.

Footnote 100:

Miss Hervey, p. 221.

[Sidenote: THE ACCESSORIES OF THE PICTURE]

The picture, which in point of size and in the elaboration of its many details is the most important work by Holbein remaining in England, is a brilliant example of the painter’s technical abilities, though as a composition it is less successful than certain other less ambitious portraits from his brush. The accessories, on account of their number, variety, and brilliance of execution, and the central position given to them—so that the two figures have something of the appearance of the supporters to a coat of arms, as in some of Holbein’s designs for glass—to some extent distract the attention from the ambassadors themselves. Dinteville appears to have selected them with great care, and evidently attached great importance to them and the meanings they were intended to convey; while the painter carried out his wishes so admirably that they remain to-day almost as important a part of the picture as they did in the opinion of the man for whom the work was painted. The distorted skull, in particular, which at once catches the eye, however entertaining or clever a rebus or emblematic puzzle the Bailly may have thought it, holds far too prominent a position in the composition for the painting to be regarded as a picture in the highest sense of the word. It is, nevertheless, a work possessing very great qualities, and, in many respects, must be placed in the forefront of Holbein’s achievement. The faces of the two men are finely and delicately modelled, though their character is not quite so subtly expressed as in such a portrait as that of the “Duchess of Milan.” The dark, penetrating eyes and well-chiselled mouth of Dinteville give vitality to his intellectual face, in which can be traced some indications of the delicate constitution which was so ill suited to the climate of England. De Selve is grave in contrast, with dark eyebrows and a more pallid complexion, and his countenance has less expression and vitality than is to be found in that of his companion. It has been suggested that this contrast between the two figures is so great that it indicates the fact proved by Dinteville’s letter, that the future Bishop’s stay in this country was of limited duration, and that his portrait was probably not completed from life.

[Sidenote: “PORTRAIT OF A MUSICIAN”]

In concluding this account of Dinteville’s connection with Holbein reference must be made to a portrait in the possession of Sir John Ramsden, Bt., of Bulstrode Park, Buckingham, recently published and described for the first time by Dr. Ganz in the Burlington Magazine,[101] which represents a man with a book of music and a lute (Pl. 10). This “Portrait of a Musician” he regards as an undoubted likeness of the Bailly of Troyes from Holbein’s brush. He describes it as follows: “The man is sitting behind a table, and holds in his right hand a roll of paper, in the left a guitar. Two books in red bindings with green ribbons are placed, one open, one closed, on the red tablecloth, and this group of colours forms the contrast to the green curtain of the background. The cap and the black coat with large facings and white shirt-ruffles hanging down are decorated with golden buttags of a longish form, after the French fashion of the time. The blue eyes, looking with a sharp and cold glance, give the impression of a man of great reflection and prudence; and the beautiful, carefully tended hands belong to a gentleman of the Court.... Round the neck he wears a small golden chain and a black silk ribbon, to which is attached an object of a very singular form, executed in gold and embellished with precious stones. This cannot be a simple jewel, intended merely to hang on the gold chain, but it seems to be a kind of whistle used in place of a tuning-fork.”[102] This portrait is said to represent Lord Vaux of Harrowden, from its supposed resemblance to the two drawings by Holbein of that personage at Windsor, but Dr. Ganz holds that it bears a much closer resemblance to Dinteville as he is shown in the “Ambassadors,” and still more so to the drawing found by Miss Hervey at Chantilly. He considers that the longer beard indicates that it was painted two years later than the National Gallery picture. “The technical execution,” he says, “confirms a later date of origin; the blending of the colours and the brilliancy are in the well-preserved parts like the finest enamel. The right hand, which has a smooth appearance, is retouched; but the extraordinary quality of Holbein’s art in modelling the flesh without any contrast is to be found in the face and in the execution of the left hand. His attention was not limited to creating a portrait with the exactness of a looking-glass; he tried to give the man in his intimacy by obtaining a spacious effect. He placed the figure between two objects and painted the shadows in their real values.” While admitting that the likeness between this Musician and Dinteville is a strong one, the present writer is of opinion that the picture at Bulstrode Park does not represent the French ambassador. As already pointed out,[103] Dinteville’s subsequent visits to England were all short ones, of only a few weeks’ duration, during which time there would be little opportunity for sitting for his portrait, nor is it very probable that he would want a second likeness of himself so shortly after the big work was finished. Little is known of the history of Sir John Ramsden’s picture, but it is probably the ritratto d’un Musico of the Arundel inventory. It is said to have been purchased in 1860 from a sale in Scotland. Either this picture, or a replica of it, was in the Ralph Bernal sale, 1855, when it was sold to Mr. Morant for one hundred guineas. It was described in the sale catalogue as: “Portrait of Nicholas, Lord Vaux, the poet and musician, in a black dress and cap, seated at a table, an open book before him, he holds a viol de gambe in his left hand, green drapery behind, 17½ × 17, a most beautiful portrait of the highest interest.”

Footnote 101:

Vol. xx., October 1911, pp. 31-2. Also reproduced in Holbein, p. 137.

Footnote 102:

This object is in reality “a penknife containing also tooth-picks and ear-spoons or other little instruments such as tweezers or awls.” See letter from Mr. Sydney J. A. Churchill in Burlington Magazine, vol. xx., January 1912, p. 239, who calls attention to a similar penknife in the Figdor Collection, and to an engraving by Aldegrever of a like object dated 1539.

Footnote 103:

See above, p. 44.

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