(In the Uffizi Gallery, Florence)
This striking portrait of one of Holbein's contemporaries is
one of the best examples of the master's work in Italy. A study
for the finished picture may be seen at Windsor, and there is
another copy in the Louvre. It was Sir Richard Southwell who
did much to bring about the fall of Sir Thomas More.
[Illustration]
When in 1531 the painter returned to England he could stand alone, and
this was well for him, since Sir Thomas More was born to learn that
the favour of princes is not remarkable for a quality of permanence.
There would seem to have been no lack of work for Holbein as long as he
lived. Here we may remark that the date of his death is in dispute,
some authorities placing it as early as 1543, while others grant him
another eleven years--a very valuable concession to any poor mortal,
but one that the Fates do not appear to have granted, 1543 being the
probable date of his death, and the Plague the cause.
He was not satisfied with portraits for long. The Steelyard, of which
we shall soon speak at length, gave him subject pictures to paint.
King Henry took him into his service with a retainer of £30 a year,
no inconsiderable sum in those days, and payment for all works done,
and he soon became a painter of the pictures that are produced to
commemorate state occasions. Happily he painted them better than some
more modern men have been able to. It is hardly a reproach to a man
that he cannot invest with special interest a picture that is to all
intent and purpose composed for him, a canvas on which the figures must
be handled less with regard to composition than precedence, and really
Holbein did very well. His education was certain to tell in his favour;
he began to enjoy the fruits of his association with the Humanists. Great
painters employed at European Courts enjoyed a certain ambassadorial
rank: the interest taken in art was so considerable, that the gift of
a picture by a great artist was as fine a present as could be given
or received, and when artists were sent to foreign courts they were
often entrusted with missions not associated directly or indirectly with
their profession.
To be sure, Holbein did not hold the same high position that fell to
Peter Paul Rubens, but he was entrusted on two occasions with missions
of a very delicate character, being instructed to paint the portraits
of ladies whom the king had married or was prepared to marry. The
Dowager Duchess of Milan was one of the few who declined to become
Queen of England, and Anne of Cleves was one who was less discriminating.
There can be no doubt that Holbein's capacity for expressing strength
in the most delicate fashion imaginable appealed very strongly to his
sitters. The rugged character of one man's head, the delicate lines of
a woman's face, could be expressed without violence in the one case or
excess of sentiment in the other, and he does not seem to have done more
than present his sitters in their most attractive aspect, and with due
regard to their salient characteristics. He did not flatter and he did
not shock, but would seem to have found something at once pleasant and
true to express about all his sitters.
Although it does not seem unreasonable to believe that Holbein would
have lacked work on his return to England, even if the social troubles
of the time had been even greater than they were, it must be admitted
that the painter was very fortunate in securing the patronage of the
Steelyard, the great German or Anglo-German trading company established
on the banks of the Thames. It was associated with the Hanseatic
League; its buildings extended over a large part of the city in the
neighbourhood of Thames Street and Cannon Street; its members had a
Guildhall with beautiful garden in a place where London is almost at
its ugliest to-day, and the Steelyard Tavern was a very noted house. To
the Steelyard came all the traffic of the Orient, all the spices of the
merchant. As much of Europe as had the desire to trade with England--then
only a second-rate power--relied largely upon the agency of the Steelyard.
The Corporation that governed the undertaking would seem to have been a
very capable body, and in return for the privileges granted to it by
successive rulers, every member was sworn to play a man's part in the
defence of London. We have nothing like the Steelyard in Great Britain
to-day, but the East India Company probably had much in common with it;
and had Rhodesia proved worthy of the highest hopes entertained by its
founder, the Chartered Company might have been conducted on similar
lines. Such associations are apt to spring up when an old country
discovers a new one. German trading associations were as pushful in
Renaissance times as they are to-day, and more artistic. It should
be remembered that Bellini, Titian, and Tintoretto worked for German
merchants in Venice.
When Holbein came back to London to find Warham and Colet dead, and Sir
Thomas More, with but a little space of life left, retiring from the
high office of Chancellor, he seems to have found new friends in the
Steelyard; and perhaps because he was anxious to establish a position
among the members of the richest trading guild of his time, he seems to
have devoted a great deal of care and time to his world-famous portrait
of George Gisze, one of the merchants of the Steelyard. The picture,
in an admirable condition of preservation, is to be seen in the Berlin
Gallery, and is one of the richest, most decorative portraits ever
painted by the artist. It will be found reproduced in these pages, and
perhaps there will be some who will wonder whether the artist did not
work deliberately to interest and astonish his new clients, and whether,
for that purpose, he did not depart from his usual reticence and good
taste. The portrait of Gisze himself, a handsome man, wearing a bright
scarlet doublet under a black cloak, is admirable, it arrests and holds
the attention. But the heterogeneous mass of accessories startles and
tires the spectator. Vase and flowers, scissors, book, scales, letters,
golden balls, inscription, keys, watches, seals--there seems to be no
limit to the material with which Holbein has loaded his canvas, and the
accessories are all so well painted that they seem to be wasted. There
is no reason to doubt that Holbein was deliberately painting a picture
for purpose of advertisement, and that he intended to make his appeal
to a class that, for all its business acumen and commercial intelligence,
was not on the same intellectual plane as the men of Sir Thomas More's
world.