“SERVANT OF THE KING’S MAJESTY”
Holbein’s entry into Henry VIII’s service—Painting of “Adam and
Eve”—Portraits of Henry VIII—The Whitehall fresco—Van Leemput’s copies
of it—The life-size cartoon of Henry VII and Henry VIII—Drawing at
Munich—Portraits of the King at Belvoir Castle, Petworth, St.
Bartholomew’s Hospital, Chatsworth, Warwick Castle, Hampton Court,
Windsor, Rome, and elsewhere—The portrait at Althorp—Portraits and
miniatures of Jane Seymour.
THE exact date of Holbein’s entry into the royal service is unknown.
Three records of the household expenditure of the King are in existence:
the Accounts of Bryan Tuke, Treasurer of the Chamber, which extend from
1st October, 20th Hen. VIII (1528) to May, 23rd Hen. VIII (1531), during
which period Holbein was out of England; the Privy Purse Expenses of the
King, from November 1529 to December 1532; and further Accounts of Tuke,
as Treasurer, from Lady Day, 29th Hen. VIII (1538) to Midsummer, 33rd
Hen. VIII (1541). Although Holbein was in England during the latter half
of 1532, his name does not occur in the Privy Purse expenses, as it
certainly would have done had he then been in the King’s employment.
Unfortunately, no accounts have been preserved for the period between
1533 and 1537, and so it is not until 1538 that we have definite proof
that the painter was in receipt of a regular salary from the royal
purse. The first entry referring to him is at Lady Day, 1538, when the
following occurs: “Item, for Hans Holben, paynter, vii_li._ x_s._” As
his salary of £30 a year, paid quarterly, was not as a rule paid in
advance, he must have already been in the royal service at least three
months earlier, that is in December 1537.
[Sidenote: HOLBEIN’S ENTRY INTO ROYAL SERVICE]
The first actual reference to him as painter to the King is contained in
the letter of Nicolas Bourbon, already quoted, written early in 1536, in
which he speaks of him as the “royal painter,” and it is to be inferred
from it that Holbein already held that position in 1535, when the poet
was in England and made his acquaintance. The circular miniature of Jane
Seymour by Hilliard in the Windsor Collection, apparently copied from an
original by Holbein, is inscribed “ANŌ DNĪ 1536 ÆTATIS SVÆ 27”; and the
great painting of Henry VII, Henry VIII, Elizabeth of York, and Jane
Seymour, with which Holbein covered one of the walls of the Privy
Chamber at Whitehall, was done in 1537. None of the earlier portraits of
Henry or of his two first queens, usually ascribed to Holbein, are
authentic works of his, which affords some proof that he did not enter
the royal service until after Jane Seymour had been crowned Queen in
1536, or, if Bourbon is to be believed, that at least he did not do so
until towards the end of Anne Boleyn’s life. The small portrait of Henry
VIII on the frontispiece of Coverdale’s Bible, printed in 1535, bears
little real likeness to the King, and may well have been designed by
Holbein without any sitting from him; though, on the other hand, it may
also be taken as some indication that he was already the King’s servant
in that year. It is safer, however, to assume, as the evidence for an
earlier year is so scant, that he received his first pay from the royal
purse in the autumn of 1536.
It is extraordinary, and indeed almost inexplicable, that Holbein was at
work for so long a time in England before he received royal recognition.
That this did not happen during his first sojourn in London is
surprising enough, but that on his return he should remain for three or
four years busily employed in painting portraits of people about Henry’s
court, some of which the King must have seen, is still more difficult of
explanation. Henry entered into keen but friendly rivalry with Francis I
in his patronage of art, and was anxious at all times to induce good
foreign artists to settle in England; and yet here was a painter of
gifts which placed him high above his fellows, who, apparently, went
quite unrecognised. This is the more remarkable when it is remembered
that the King was well acquainted with, and had expressed his delight
in, at least one work of Holbein done during his first English
visit—“The Battle of Spurs,” which decorated the back of the arch of the
temporary Banquet Hall at Greenwich. It is hardly possible that it was
owing to any disinclination on Holbein’s own part, however anxious he
may have been to retain his rights as a citizen of Basel. He could have
entered Henry’s service for a year or two without renouncing his
burghership, or becoming a naturalised English subject, and that he did
obtain the post in the end seems to indicate that the obstacle, whatever
it may have been, was not one of his own making. It was, on the other
hand, an honour to which he would aspire, and the possibility of holding
some such position must have been one of the reasons which induced him
to visit this country, as it was with all the foreign artists and
craftsmen who made London their temporary home. A satisfactory
explanation of this mystery is hard to find, and unless further evidence
is discovered, it must remain unsolved.
That there is some possibility that Holbein was indirectly employed by
the Crown even earlier than 1535 is suggested by an interesting
memorandum dealing with goldsmiths’ work published in the Calendars of
Letters and Papers. The paper is undated, but is placed by the editor
under the year 1534. It is an account rendered to the King’s Secretary,
Thomas Cromwell, by the Dutchman Cornelis Hayes, one of the leading
foreign goldsmiths in London during Henry’s reign, who was constantly
employed by the King and the court. The articles supplied were
apparently for the royal service, the chief among them being an
elaborately decorated silver cradle, which may possibly have been for
the use of the Princess Elizabeth, who was born on the 7th September
1533. The document runs as follows:
“Parcels delivered to Mr. Secretary by me, Cornelys Hayes, goldsmith. A
silver cradle, price 16_li._ For making a silver plate, altering the
images, making the roses underneath the cradle, the roses about the
pillars, and new burnishing, 13_s._ 4_d._ For the stones that were set
in gold in the cradle, 15_s._; for fringes, the gold about the cushions,
tassels, white satin, cloth of gold, lining, sypars, and swadyl-bands,
13_s._ 6_d._ Total, 18_li._ 1_s._ 10_d._ The silver that went to the
dressing of the Adam and Eve, the making of all the apples, the gilding
of the foot and setting of the currall (coral), 33_s._ 4_d._ To Hance,
painter, for painting the same Adam and Eve, 20_s._”[200] Other items
are included in the account which need not be quoted.
Footnote 200:
_C.L.P._, vol. vii. 1668.
The “Hance, painter,” who supplied this picture of “Adam and Eve,” was
undoubtedly Holbein, who was acquainted with Hayes, as we learn from
Bourbon’s letter, and for whom he almost certainly provided designs for
jewellery.[201] The document is not very clear, and on a first reading
it would appear that the “Adam and Eve” formed part of the decoration of
the cradle; but it is more probable that it had nothing to do with it,
but was a separate piece of work, either a picture or a carving in wood,
honestone, or alabaster, which Holbein was employed to colour; possibly
the latter, as the fee paid, twenty shillings, was a small one for an
original painting from his brush. Whether picture or carving, it was
evidently set in a very elaborate silver frame, decorated with silver
apples in relief, as appropriate to the subject it contained, and with
coral inset. No trace of this work remains, but the possibility that
Holbein’s share in it was a small picture recalls that earlier “Adam and
Eve” of the first Basel years, which, as already noted,[202] bears a
considerable resemblance to the heads in the picture of the same subject
by Mabuse in Hampton Court.
Footnote 201:
The same paper contains an item for “the garnishing of two books with
silver-gilt, 66 oz. at 6_s._,” which recalls Holbein’s designs in the
British Museum for work of a similar kind. The velvet for covering
them was supplied by William Lock, the leading London mercer, at a
cost of 43_s._ 9_d._
Footnote 202:
See Vol. i. p. 56.
[Sidenote: PORTRAITS OF HENRY VIII]
Among the numerous portraits of Henry VIII to be met with in so many of
the great houses of this country and in several European museums, which,
in almost all cases, are attributed by their owners to Holbein, only
three[203] can be ascribed to him with any certainty. These are the
large cartoon for the left-hand half of the Whitehall wall-painting,
belonging to the Duke of Devonshire; the beautiful little panel portrait
in Earl Spencer’s collection at Althorp; and the crayon study in the
Munich Gallery. The greater number of the remaining portraits of him,
most of them based on the Whitehall likeness, are merely inferior
copies, and copies of copies, “shop” pieces supplied to order by Henry’s
painters for presentation to foreign potentates and ambassadors, and to
his own statesmen and courtiers as a reward for faithful service. Less
frequently one is met with which is a good and original work by some
painter of lower rank than Holbein, and such portraits, in their turn,
have been multiplied by assistants in order to meet the constant demand
for the King’s likeness.
Footnote 203:
A fourth work, the portrait in the National Gallery, Rome, is,
however, considered by Dr. Ganz and other critics to be an original
work by Holbein.
The great Whitehall fresco was painted in 1537, and was the first work
of importance which Holbein undertook for the Crown. It achieved immense
popularity, and for one hundred and fifty years or so every foreign
visitor of distinction was taken to see it, while all artists who had an
opportunity of examining it spoke loudly in its praises. It covered one
of the walls in the Privy Chamber at Whitehall, and was painted on
either side and over the top of a window, or, more probably, the
fireplace, and consisted of four great figures, Henry VIII and his
father, Henry VII, on one side, and his mother, Elizabeth of York, and
his third wife, Jane Seymour, on the other, arranged within an
elaborately designed architectural setting. This great work, which added
so much to Holbein’s fame among his contemporaries, was destroyed in the
fire at Whitehall in January 1698; but happily, owing to the foresight
of Charles II, we still possess, in the small copy of it by the Flemish
artist Remigius van Leemput, in Hampton Court[204] (No. 601 (308)), a
very valuable record of the composition of the work. The copy is
evidently a very faithful one, and though, of course, it lacks all the
greatness of style, the vividness of character, and the beauty of colour
of the original—for Remée was a poor artist—it reproduces the
composition with some exactitude, and so is invaluable to students of
the master. This copy was made by Van Leemput in 1667, the probable
reason being that the fresco was then beginning to show signs of decay,
and that Charles was anxious to retain an accurate record of it before
it was ruined. Patin, who visited England about 1670, and saw both the
painting and the copy, said that the latter was ordered by the King
“pour en estendre la posterité s’il faut ainsi dire, et n’abandonner pas
une si belle chose à la fortune des temps.”[205] Walpole says that
Remée, as he was familiarly called here, received £150 for his
work,[206] which was a very large fee for those days, and shows how
highly the King valued the original.
Footnote 204:
Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 179, from Vertue’s engraving.
Footnote 205:
Patin, _Relations historiques_, Basel, 1673, p. 211 _et seq._
Footnote 206:
Walpole, _Anecdotes_, ed. Wornum, 1888, i. p. 82.
Footnote 207:
“Zo wel getroffen, dat het den beschouwer met verbaastheid aandoet.”
[Sidenote: THE WHITEHALL WALL-PAINTING]
The wall-painting itself was still in perfect condition when Van Mander
saw it in 1604. He was deeply impressed by this “over-heerlijk Portret”
of Henry, which, he wrote, was so true to life that it filled the
spectator with dismay.[207] “The King, as he stood there, majestic in
his splendour, was so life-like, that the spectator felt abashed,
annihilated, in his presence.” Earlier travellers who saw it and praised
it were Johann Fischart, in 1576,[208] and Hentzner, who visited England
in 1598; while Duke Johann Ernst of Saxony, who was here in 1613, was
also taken to see it; it is noted in the records of his journey, “upon
this his Royal Highness was conducted into the King’s apartment; it was
small but hung with beautiful tapestries on all sides. In this room were
the full-length portraits of Henrici VIII, and his father, Henrici VII.
They were regarded as special works of art, and similar works are said
not to be seen throughout England.” Both Pepys and Evelyn mention it in
their diaries. The latter, under the date 11th February 1656, says he
was glad to find, on revisiting Whitehall for the first time for many
years, that “they had not much defac’d that rare piece of Hen. VII, &c.,
don on the walles of the King’s privy chamber.” This entry proves that
ten or eleven years before Charles II ordered the copy to be made the
fresco was beginning to show signs of decay. It narrowly escaped
destruction in the earlier fire at Whitehall in 1691, but the
conflagration of 1698 was a much more serious one. It burnt down the
entire Palace, with the exception of the Banqueting House and a few
buildings adjoining it. More than a thousand apartments perished in the
flames, and a number of pictures in the Matted Gallery and elsewhere,
mentioned by Evelyn, were destroyed. “This terrible conflagration, which
broke out about four in the afternoon and lasted upwards of seventeen
hours, originated through the neglect and carelessness of a laundress, a
Dutch woman, who had left some linen to dry in front of a fire, in the
lodging of a certain Colonel Stanley. She and twelve other persons, so
it is reported, perished in the flames.”[209]
Footnote 208:
Quoted by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. xxxviii.
Footnote 209:
Dr. Sheppard, _The Old Royal Palace of Whitehall_, 1901, pp. 385-6.
According to Scharf, _Old London_, p. 322, the fresco was destroyed in
the fire of 1691.
By the aid of the large cartoon and Van Leemput’s copy a very good idea
of the general effect and composition of the picture can be obtained. It
is divided into two stages. On the spectator’s left hand stands Henry
VIII, turned fully to the front, with arms akimbo, and legs stretched
widely apart, and opposite him, on the other side of the picture, is
Jane Seymour. Behind and above the King, and to the right of him, on a
raised step or low platform, stands his father, Henry VII, and in a
corresponding position on the other side, his mother, Elizabeth of York.
Henry was very proud of his legs, and Holbein has depicted him in his
favourite attitude. He holds a glove in his right hand, and with the
left the cord of his dagger, gold hilted, with a gold and blue velvet
sheath. His gold-brown doublet is richly jewelled, and his red surcoat
is trimmed with fur and elaborately brocaded with gold thread; a heavy
jewelled chain crosses his shoulders, and from another hangs a pendant.
His flat black bonnet is ornamented with pearls, devices in gold, and
white feathers. The figure is rather larger than life-size, but looks
colossal. His shoulders appear enormous, partly owing to the dress, and
partly, no doubt, through some exaggeration on the artist’s part to
flatter the vanity of his royal sitter. Henry VII is shown in simpler
costume; with his right hand he holds together the folds of his long
ermine-trimmed gown, his left elbow resting on the marble pedestal which
Van Leemput has placed in the centre in lieu of the window or
chimney-piece which occupied the same position in the wall itself. He
holds his gloves in his left hand, and has the Garter collar across his
breast. Unlike his son, he is beardless, and his long hair falls to his
shoulders. Jane Seymour is wearing a dress of tawny gold, full ermine
sleeves, and several necklaces of pearls. Her hands are clasped in front
of her, and a small white dog is lying on the long skirt of her gown.
Behind her, Elizabeth of York stands with her arms crossed, and holding
up her dress with her right hand. The floor is covered with a Turkey
carpet, and the background consists of richly-decorated pilasters and
capitals, niches, and a frieze, in various coloured marbles, in the
Renaissance style of which Holbein made such brilliant use. In the
frieze on either side are figures supporting a shield. The shield shown
in the cartoon bears the initials H and J; the other, no doubt, gave the
date. In Van Leemput’s copy the initials have been changed to “AN^o.
Dō.” with “1537” in the corresponding panel, while the centre of the
picture is filled with a high marble pedestal, with two cushions on the
top, and on the front of it a long Latin inscription in praise of the
two monarchs. Below this is inscribed: “Prototypvm Magnitvdinis Ipso
Opere Tectorio Fecit Holbenivs Ivbente Henrico VIII,” and a little
below, on a plinth: “Ectypvm A Remigio Van Leempvt Breviora Tabella
Describi Volvit Carolus II. M.B.F.E.H.R. A°. DNI. M.DCLXVII.”
[Illustration:
VOL. II., PLATE 18
HENRY VII AND HENRY VIII
_Cartoon_
Duke of Devonshire’s collection
UNTIL RECENTLY AT HARDWICK HALL, NOW AT CHATSWORTH
]
[Sidenote: CARTOON OF HENRY VII & HENRY VIII]
Van Leemput’s inferiority as an artist is shown most clearly in his
rendering of the faces. In that of Henry VIII, in particular, the
drawing is weak and lacking in character, and as a likeness it bears no
close resemblance to the many portraits still existing which were copied
or adapted from the fresco. It must be regarded, therefore, as a not
very reliable record of the facial appearance of the four sitters as
Holbein painted them.
The pedestal was, no doubt, Van Leemput’s own invention, and the Latin
verses must have been specially written for the purpose of his copy. As
already pointed out, the wall on which the fresco was painted contained
either a window or a fireplace. Charles Patin describes it as “sur le
pignon de la croisée”; but it has been suggested that “croisée” is a
typographical error for “cheminée.” Patin, however, was not a very
careful observer, for he speaks of the subject as “de la main d’Holbein,
le portrait d’Henry huit et des Princes ses enfants.”[210] In this,
nevertheless, he may not be so completely wrong as at first sight
appears. In 1897 Mr. Ernest Law, the historian of Hampton Court Palace,
discovered another copy of the great wall-painting, also by Van Leemput,
and of the same size and scale as the Hampton Court example, but with
one important difference. In the middle foreground the copyist has
placed a standing figure of Edward VI. This interesting little picture
belongs to Lord Leconfield, and is in one of the private bedrooms at
Petworth, Sussex. Patin may have seen this copy, and afterwards may have
confused it with the wall-painting; or again, he may have confused the
fresco with the picture of Henry VIII and his family, by an unknown
artist of the school of Holbein, now in Hampton Court, No. 340 (510),
but probably in Patin’s day hanging in Whitehall.[211]
Footnote 210:
Patin, _Relations historiques_, Basel, 1673, p. 211 _et seq._
Footnote 211:
It is hardly possible that the figure of Edward VI was added to the
wall-painting itself after the death of Holbein, or otherwise it would
appear in both Van Leemput’s copies. It was, no doubt, taken from some
independent portrait of the young king then hanging in Whitehall.
The life-size cartoon of Henry VIII and his father, belonging to the
Duke of Devonshire, until recently at Hardwick Hall (Pl. 18),[212] is,
though only a working drawing, a superb example of Holbein’s mastery of
composition on a monumental scale. It is the original design for the
left-hand part of the Whitehall fresco, and along its outlines the
prickings are still visible by means of which the design was pounced on
the wall. It provides evidence that Van Leemput’s copy was a faithful
one, for, with one important exception, the two agree in all points. The
exception is in the position of the King’s head. In the cartoon it is
about three-quarters to the right, but in the copy it has been turned so
that the monarch is looking directly at the spectator. Woltmann is, no
doubt, right when he suggests that the change was made by the express
wish of Henry himself while the wall-painting was in progress.[213] He
desired to be shown full-fronted to the world, for he was proud of his
appearance, more particularly of his calves, as more than one
contemporary anecdote shows. In his younger days, at the beginning of
his reign, he was the most commanding figure at the English court,
praised by all for his good looks, and celebrated for his great bodily
strength and for his proficiency in all manly sports and exercises. He
is thus described by the Venetian ambassador Pasqualigo in 1515; “His
Majesty is the handsomest potentate I ever set eyes on; above the usual
height, with an extremely fine calf to his leg; his complexion very fair
and bright, with auburn hair combed straight and short in the French
fashion; and a round face so very beautiful, that it would become a
pretty woman, his throat being rather long and thick.”[214]
Footnote 212:
Now (1913) at Chatsworth. Woltmann, 167. Reproduced by Davies, p. 168;
Ganz _Holbein_, p. 180; _Burlington Fine Arts Club Exhibition_, 1909,
_Catalogue_, Pl. i.
Footnote 213:
Woltmann, i. 421.
Footnote 214:
_C.L.P._, vol. ii. pt. i. 411.
When Holbein painted him he was forty-six years old, and his face had
coarsened and had lost all its youthful freshness and good looks, but
his figure was still erect and kingly, and retained much of its earlier
vigour. In the cartoon he stands boldly and firmly on his legs, active
and alert, though massive in build, and made still broader in appearance
by his rich apparel, heavily padded about the shoulders. It is in the
face that his age and the habits of his life are beginning to leave ugly
indications, though this is not to be gathered from the cartoon, in
which his features, badly rubbed, are now barely discernible. This,
however, may not be entirely due to the accidents of time, for as the
cartoon was made for the purpose of transferring the leading lines of
the composition to the wall, Holbein possibly only indicated the main
outlines, leaving the more careful modelling to be done on the wall
itself. Sadly damaged as the cartoon is, a mere fragment of the first
conception of a great masterpiece, it nevertheless remains a remarkable
and precious work of art, doubly valuable in that it not only shows us
Holbein’s methods of work, but is also the only record from his own hand
we possess to-day in this country of the most important and celebrated
painting he produced while in England. The whole composition is drawn in
with the point of the brush, in the manner, as Mr. S. Arthur Strong
points out, at once broad and minute, of which Holbein seems to have
been the solitary master. In this crowd of particulars almost everyone
else would have lost sight of the whole, and given us a map instead of a
view.[215] Mr. Roger E. Fry speaks of it as one of Holbein’s greatest
creations. “It has all the grandeur of style, the lucidity and ease of
arrangement of the greatest monumental design of Italy, together with a
particularity and minuteness which would seem incompatible with those
greater qualities of style had they not been thus wonderfully united. In
all the decorative details, too, this great work gives us a measure of
Holbein’s impeccable taste at a time when taste was by no means as
universal as it had been in earlier centuries.”[216]
Footnote 215:
S. Arthur Strong, _Reproductions of Drawings by the Old Masters at
Chatsworth_, 1902; republished in _Critical Studies and Fragments_,
1905, p. 132.
Footnote 216:
_Burlington Magazine_, vol. xv., May 1909, p. 74.
[Sidenote: DRAWING OF THE KING AT MUNICH]
This cartoon was in 1590 in the possession of John, Lord Lumley, at
Lumley Castle, and is entered in the inventory of the pictures as “The
Statuary of King Henry the Eight and his father Kinge Henry the Seventh
Joyned together, doone in white and black by Haunce Holbyn.” It passed
subsequently into the collection of the Duke of Devonshire, and has been
preserved ever since at Hardwick Hall.[217]
Footnote 217:
See p. 97, note 3.
When it was decided to change the position of the face, it became
necessary for the King to give the painter another sitting, and the
full-face drawing now in the Munich Gallery[218] is, no doubt, the very
study Holbein made for the purpose. This is not only evident from its
agreement with Van Leemput’s copy, but also from its dimensions. It is
life-size, and thus considerably bigger than any other preliminary
portrait-study by Holbein which has survived. It is in black and red
chalks, on paper prepared with body-colour in the manner practised by
the painter at that period. The study is of the face alone, part of the
hat, the collar, and a small portion of fur on the shoulders being
roughly indicated. The short, scanty beard and the still scantier
whiskers do not conceal the shape of the massive, almost square face,
with its thin eyebrows, fat, heavy cheeks, which from their size make
the mouth look small. He gazes in front of him, his eyes unconscious of
the spectator, as though the thoughts of the sitter were entirely given
to himself. The modelling is masterly, and is obtained by the simplest
means; but the sketch, simple as it appears to be, produces a wonderful
effect of perfect truth to life. Here is the King exactly as he was, as
none other but Holbein could have drawn him. He has given not only an
absolutely faithful rendering of the face itself, but has laid bare much
of the complex character which lurked behind it, and the drawing must
always remain both one of the artist’s very finest portrait-studies and
also a living document of the utmost value in the history of Tudor
England. How this drawing came to be in Munich is not known. It was
discovered among a number of other drawings, put aside as of no
particular value, by Herr J. H. von Hefner-Alteneck when he was keeper
of the Print Room. It does not appear to have ever formed a part of the
Windsor series of drawings.
Footnote 218:
Woltmann, 221. Reproduced by Davies, p. 166; Knackfuss, fig. 125; A.
F. Pollard, _Henry VIII_, p. 220.
The Whitehall painting became the prototype of nine-tenths of the very
numerous portraits of Henry which were produced during his reign and for
some little time afterwards. With one possible exception, these works
are not from Holbein’s own hand; they were all the work of the less
important artists attached to the English court. These, again, are of
very varying degrees of skill, some being but coarse and common
productions, while others have considerable artistic merits. There is
great probability that some of the best of them were from the workshop
of Gerard and Lucas Hornebolt, more particularly those half-lengths of
which the portrait in Warwick Castle is perhaps the finest example. All,
however, had their real origin in the Whitehall painting; in every one
of them the King is shown full-face, and in the same characteristic
attitude.
[Sidenote: OTHER PORTRAITS OF THE KING]
Interesting as the subject is, the scope of this book does not permit
any attempt to describe, or even to compile a list of, all the portraits
of Henry VIII still remaining in England. A few of the principal ones
may be mentioned briefly. Several of them are full-lengths. Among these
one of the most interesting is in Belvoir Castle.[219] It was purchased
by the fourth Duke of Rutland at Lord Torrington’s sale in 1787 for
£211. Except in some minor details of the dress, it follows the
Whitehall painting very closely. The King is wearing “white hose, with
the Garter on his left leg; a gold chain round his neck with the letter
H, with a pendant circular gold case without any device; another gold
chain or collar across the shoulder over the surcoat is mounted in
jewels set in gold-and-enamel. The whole of the dress and ornaments is
most elaborately painted and gilded, and in excellent effect of light
and colour, being in an absolutely perfect state of preservation.”[220]
The copyist has made the face younger and more handsome, and much more
lacking in expression than the Munich sketch. The background is a
curtain with an elaborate design in panels, each one surmounted by a
crown. Dr. Waagen thought it to be a genuine work by Holbein. “Although
painted on canvas,” he says, “the picture is of such truth, delicacy,
and transparency, that I consider it an original.” A similar
whole-length on wood, belonging to the Seymour family, is described by
Dr. Woltmann, who regarded it as an excellently painted contemporary
copy, which very possibly came into the possession of that family
through their connection with Jane Seymour.[221] There is a far finer
example at Petworth, much more transparent and delicate in its tones,
which Wornum describes as “really magnificent.”[222] This work is by no
means an exact copy; it differs in various details, more particularly in
the dress, which is of silver brocade with a blue mantle lined with
ermine. It is possibly the work of a Fleming. The background is
architectural. There is another full-length version at St. Bartholomew’s
Hospital, with a further variation of the background and the floor.
Other repetitions are at Chatsworth,[223] Trinity College, Cambridge,
and in the possession of Viscount Dillon at Ditchley, Enstone.[224]
Footnote 219:
Reproduced in _The Connoisseur_, vol. vi. No. 22, June 1903,
frontispiece.
Footnote 220:
_The Connoisseur_, vol. vi. No. 22, June 1903, p. 68 (quotation from
Radford’s catalogue of the collection).
Footnote 221:
Woltmann, ii. 20.
Footnote 222:
Wornum, p. 308.
Footnote 223:
Described by Mr. S. Arthur Strong as “one of the best of the royal
effigies that are all probably based in common upon the Hardwick
cartoon. The artist, whoever he was, had a manner of his own, and was
more than a mere copyist. The cold grey scheme of colour is a contrast
to the depth and richness at which Holbein aimed, and is more akin to
what we afterwards appreciate as characteristic in Honthorst and
Mytens.”—_Critical Studies and Fragments_, p. 91. The figure is
evidently copied directly from the wall-painting. The position and the
details of the dress agree exactly with the Hardwick cartoon. It is
reproduced by Dr. Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 181.
Footnote 224:
Reproduced by A. F. Pollard, _Henry VIII_, p. 150.
The half-length and three-quarter-length versions, of which the
portraits at Rome and in Warwick Castle are, perhaps, the most
important, are still more numerous. In these the King is shown in the
same position, and apparently several years older, the cheeks fatter and
more shapeless, and with greyer beard, while in a number of them,
instead of holding his dagger, he has a stick in his left hand. The
Warwick picture, which is life-size, to the knees, and full-front, was
considered by Dr. Waagen to be a genuine work by Holbein of about the
date 1530, but more recent criticism has shown him to be wrong in both
these assertions. “The square face is so fat,” he says, “that the
several parts are quite indistinct. There is in these features a brutal
egotism, an obstinacy, and a harshness of feeling, such as I have never
yet seen in any human countenance. In the eyes, too, there is the
suspicious watchfulness of a wild beast, so that I became quite
uncomfortable from looking at it a long time; for the picture, a
masterpiece of Holbein, is as true in the smallest details as if the
king himself stood before you. In the very splendid dress much gold is
employed. The under-sleeves are of gold, with brown shadows; the hands
most strikingly true to nature; in the left he has a cane, and in the
right a pair of gloves; on his head a small cap. The background is
bright green. The want of simplicity of the forms, the little rounding
of the whole, notwithstanding the wonderful modelling of all the
details, the brownish red local tone of the flesh, the grey of the
shadows, and the very light general effect, show this picture to be a
transition from the second to the third manner of Holbein, and that it
may have been painted about 1530.”[225]
Footnote 225:
Waagen, _Treasures of Art in Great Britain_, iii. p. 215.
It is, however, impossible that the portrait can have been painted in
that year, when Henry was not forty. He appears to be at least fifteen
years older than this. The head and hands are good, but the style of
painting has little in common with that of Holbein, while the details of
the dress lack the beauty, delicacy, and truth of draughtsmanship which
are to be found in his work. There is a portrait in the collection of
the Marquis of Bute, which, according to Dr. Waagen, is “exactly like
the picture by Holbein at Warwick Castle, only less finished.”[226] When
he saw it, as far back as 1854, it was ascribed to “Gerard Horebout,”
and there is every probability that this attribution is the correct one,
for it is not to be expected that the almost forgotten name of Hornebolt
would have been substituted for the much better known one of Holbein,
and the fact that the former name has clung to the picture for so long
is strong evidence in favour of the contention that Hornebolt was the
painter of it. For this reason the Warwick portrait, and others like it,
are now tentatively attributed by most modern writers to the workshop of
Gerard and Luke Hornebolt.
Footnote 226:
_Ibid._, vol. iii. p. 482.
[Illustration:
VOL. II., PLATE 19
HENRY VIII
NATIONAL GALLERY, ROME
]
[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF HENRY VIII AT ROME]
The portrait in the National Gallery, Rome (Pl. 19),[227] which was
formerly in the Corsini Collection, is a three-quarter length, and is
inscribed across the plain background, on either side of the head, “ANNO
· ÆTATIS · SVÆ · XLIX,” and was, therefore, painted in 1539 or 1540. In
dress and position it closely follows Van Leemput’s copy, and the
Windsor and other versions, in which the left hand holds the
dagger-cord. With the exception of the substitution of brown fur for
ermine, and different embroidery on the upper sleeves, the Rome and the
Windsor portraits are in exact agreement as to the costume. The face in
the Rome portrait is decidedly younger than in the Warwick and Windsor
versions, as the date would indicate, so that it is possibly one of the
earliest of the contemporary copies, taken directly from the
wall-painting under Holbein’s own supervision. It is undoubtedly the
best of the later portraits of the King, the face being full of
character finely rendered, and it is regarded by a number of modern
critics, including Dr. Ganz, as a work from Holbein’s own brush.
Footnote 227:
Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 125.
An important example of this type of the portraits of Henry VIII is the
three-quarter length belonging to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, London,
which was last exhibited at the Burlington Fine Arts Club in 1909 (No.
23). The dress is very similar to the Warwick portrait. The King is
grasping in his left hand a black staff mounted in gold. The background
is dark, and on it is inscribed: “ANNO [~D][~N]I 1544. ÆTATIS SVÆ 55,”
which is incorrect, as Henry did not enter his fifty-fifth year until
1545.[228] The portrait in Windsor Castle,[229] which, as Mr. Ernest Law
points out, is the only contemporary likeness of Henry in the whole of
the royal collections which has anything of an Holbeinesque character,
was evidently copied from the Whitehall fresco. In the attitude and in
the details of the dress it follows the original with considerable
closeness, though slight differences are to be noted, as in the position
of the right hand, which is here placed over the sword-belt, instead of
below it as in Van Leemput’s copy. Its agreement with the Rome portrait
has been already pointed out. The face, however, more closely resembles
the Warwick portrait. Mr. Ernest Law suggests that it was executed
several years later than the Holbein prototype, by some pupil or
imitator, such as Guillim Stretes, after the master’s death,[230] the
general attitude, pose, dress, and accessories of the original being
carefully adhered to, but the features modified, and the beard shown as
thinner and turning grey, to suit his added years, though in outline
they still closely resemble Holbein’s drawing at Munich. The size of the
panel is 3 ft. 3¾ in. high × 2 ft. 5½ in. wide. It may be the picture
which was No. 866 in James II’s catalogue: “King Henry VIII at
half-length, with gloves in his right hand”; though this description
suits equally well the smaller portrait (18 in. × 16 in.) at Hampton
Court, No. 606.
Footnote 228:
There is another version of this portrait with the black staff in the
left hand at Chatsworth, in which, Mr. S. Arthur Strong says, “the
drawing of the features is masterly, and the detail is minute and
searching without being petty; but here again the effect is flat, and
we feel that Holbein himself would have better conveyed the sense of
roundness and depth.... On the whole, there is a French rather than a
German look about this picture, which suggests the possibility that it
may have been painted at the time of the Field of the Cloth of
Gold.”—_Critical Studies and Fragments_, p. 91, and Pl. ix. i.
Footnote 229:
Reproduced by Law, _Holbein’s Pictures_, &c., Pl. v.; Davies, p. 165;
Knackfuss, fig. 126; Pollard, _Henry VIII_, frontispiece (in colour);
Cust, _Royal Collection of Paintings, Windsor Castle_, Pl. 49; Ganz,
_Holbein_, p. 222.
Footnote 230:
_Holbein’s Pictures_, &c., p. 13.
Another good version of this portrait, with the left hand on the
dagger-cord, is the half-length belonging to the Earl of Yarborough,
while an excellent example of the Warwick Castle type, with a cane
substituted for the dagger, was lent by Lord Sackville to the Burlington
Fine Arts Club in 1909 (No. 21).
There is also an excellent portrait of the Warwick type in the
collection of the Duke of Manchester at Kimbolton Castle.[231] It is on
panel, 35 in. × 25 in., and closely resembles the picture in the
National Portrait Gallery (No. 496) (35⅛ in. × 26¼ in.), which is
attributed to Luke Hornebolt.[232] The latter had at one time a coat of
arms on the frame indicating that it belonged at some period to the
Nassau family. It may have been taken over to Holland at the time of the
marriage of Princess Mary, daughter of Charles I, to William of Orange,
in 1641. There are three other portraits of the King in the National
Portrait Gallery, while other versions or old copies exist at Castle
Howard, and at Serlby, the seat of Viscount Galway. The latter (35 in. ×
27 in.) has an inscription on the background giving the King’s titles
and the date 1547, the year of his death. Another (36 in. × 30 in.), at
one time in the collection of Mr. Henry Willett, and now in the Brighton
Art Gallery, is said to have been taken from a wainscot in King’s Walden
House, Herts, formerly the residence of Anne Boleyn.
Footnote 231:
Tudor Exhibition, 1890, No. 97, and reproduced in the Catalogue, p.
48.
Footnote 232:
Reproduced in Mr. Cust’s illustrated Catalogue of _National Portrait
Gallery_, vol. i. p. 23.
[Sidenote: “HENRY VIII WITH A SCROLL”]
All these portraits, whether by the Hornebolts or less important
copyists attached to Henry’s court, are based on Holbein’s Whitehall
painting. There is, however, one other representation of Henry VIII, of
about the date of Holbein’s first entry into the royal service, which is
of a very different character, and was not painted under the influence
of the great German. This is the fine picture at Hampton Court (No. 563
(313)), generally known as “King Henry VIII with a Scroll.”[233] He is
seen at half-length, with head turned slightly to the right, but eyes to
the front. He has reddish hair, and a small thin beard and moustache,
and his eyes are dark grey. He wears a doublet of cloth of gold, cut
square across the chest, covered with strings of pearls, and slashed
with rows of white puffs, above which his white frilled shirt is seen.
Over this is a sable-furred cloak. His black cap has a medallion, with
figures of the Virgin and Infant Christ in enamel, and a white jewelled
feather. In front of him is a table or ledge with a crimson cushion, on
which his right hand is placed, and a scroll of white paper, one end of
which he holds between the thumb and forefinger of his left. On it is
inscribed a sentence from the Gospel of St. Mark in Roman lettering:
“Marci—16. Ite in Mũdvm Vniversṽ et predicate Evangelivm omni creatvræ.”
The background is a rich green. It is on panel, 2 ft. 4 in. high × 1 ft.
10 in. wide.
Footnote 233:
Reproduced by Law, _Royal Gallery at Hampton Court_, p. 204.
The probable authorship of this painting has given rise to much
discussion and difference of opinion. It has been attributed at
different times to Holbein, Janet, Joos van Cleve, and Girolamo da
Treviso, and even to Toto or Penni. Dr. Woltmann considered it to be the
work of a Frenchman, whereas Mr. Wornum was inclined to attribute it to
an Italian hand, possibly Da Treviso. The one thing certain about it is
that it is not by Holbein. There is an equal difference of opinion as to
the date. The King has so youthful a look, as compared with the Hardwick
cartoon and the Munich drawing, that some writers hold that he cannot
have been more than thirty-eight—certainly not more than forty—when it
was painted. This would make the date about 1529, in which year Holbein
was in Switzerland. On the other hand, there are two facts which point
to a later date—the arrangement of the hair and beard, and the text on
the scroll, which, taken together, make it highly probable that the
portrait was painted in 1536. It was on the 8th of May 1535 that Henry,
in imitation of Francis I, ordered all about his court to cut their hair
short and to grow their beards—“the King commanded all about his court
to poll their heads; and to give them example he caused his own head to
be polled, and from thenceforth his beard to be knotted and no more
shaven.”[234] In the picture both hair and beard are treated in the new
fashion. Again, on October 4th of the same year the printing of
Coverdale’s English version of the whole Bible, for which Holbein
designed the title-page, was finished, and in 1536 Henry ordered a copy
of it to be laid in the choir of every church, “for every man that will
to look and read therein; and shall discourage no man from reading any
part of the Bible, but rather comfort, exhort, and admonish every man to
read the same.” To this the text on the scroll which Henry holds in the
portrait clearly refers; and further evidence is supplied by the Bible
frontispiece, in which the King is shown under a canopy, with a sword in
his right hand, and a clasped Bible in his left, which he is handing to
his kneeling bishops. One of the little pictures which form the border
of the title-page, in which our Saviour is exhorting His disciples to
preach the Word throughout the world, has the same text (Mark xvi. 15)
inscribed below it. The evidence, therefore, is very strongly in favour
of the assumption that the portrait was painted to commemorate Henry’s
share in the publication of Coverdale’s English version of the Bible.
Against these two arguments in favour of the date 1536, the compilers of
the catalogue of the Burlington Fine Arts Club Exhibition point out that
the King does not look more than thirty, which would place the portrait
at about the date of the meeting with Francis I at the Field of the
Cloth of Gold in 1520. “The portrait of Eleonora of Spain, wife of
Francis I, also at Hampton Court,” they say, “is evidently by the same
hand; and the smaller portrait of Francis I, also at Hampton Court, is
either by, or a copy after, the same painter. These circumstances would
point to a possible French origin, and lend some colour to the
ascription of the portrait either to “Sotto” Cleef, who worked in France
before coming to England, or to Jean Clouet—more probably the latter,
who may very well have been in attendance on Francis I at the Field of
the Cloth of Gold.”[235] It is difficult, however, to follow these
writers in their conclusion that the portrait of Eleonora, almost
certainly by the elder Clouet, and the portrait of Henry VIII are by the
same hand, while the fact that in all the earlier portraits of the King
he is shown with long hair, cut straight across the forehead, and no
beard, makes it still more difficult to accept the date as that of the
meeting of the two monarchs in France, unless much stronger evidence as
to its French origin be forthcoming. It is not safe to go farther than
to ascribe it to a Franco-Flemish origin. It should be noted in passing
that a small point in favour of those who see in it a work by an Italian
hand lies in the scroll or cartellino, a feature not often met with in
French or English portraits of that time.
Footnote 234:
Stow’s _Annales_.
Footnote 235:
_Burlington Fine Arts Club Exhibition Catalogue_, p.bv 81.
[Sidenote: “HENRY VIII WITH A SCROLL”]
On the back of the panel is branded Charles I’s cypher, and there is
also a slip of paper on which is inscribed in contemporary handwriting,
“Changed with my Lord Arundel, 1624.” In Charles’ catalogue, compiled in
1639, it is entered as “King Henry VIII when he was young, with a white
scroll of parchment in his hand; the picture being to the shoulders;
half a figure so big as the life, in a carved gilded frame. Length 4 ft.
0. A Whitehall piece, said to be done by Jennet or Sotto Cleve.” It is
possibly the picture in the Commonwealth inventory—“King Henry y^e
8^{th} by Gennett,” which was “sold to M^{r.} Baggeley y^e 23^{rd} Oct.
1651 for £25.” It may also be the “Table with the picture of King Henry
VIII, then being young,” in Edward VI’s catalogue. An early and
interesting copy of this picture, on canvas, 28¾ in. × 22¼ in., is in
the possession of the Merchant Taylors’ Company, which was in the Tudor
Exhibition, 1890 (No. 120), and the Burlington Club Exhibition, 1909
(No. 24). In the catalogue of the former exhibition it was attributed to
Paris Bordone. It was presented to the Company in 1616 by Mr. John
Vernon. There is a third version of the picture in the Marquis of
Exeter’s collection at Burleigh House, in which the same Latin verse is
inscribed on the scroll. Dr. Waagen says that “it is very carefully
painted in a brownish tone.”[236]
Footnote 236:
Waagen, _Treasures of Art_, &c., iii. p. 407.
In addition to the Hardwick cartoon and the Munich drawing there is a
third portrait of Henry existing which can be attributed almost
certainly to Holbein’s hand. This is the beautiful little panel in Lord
Spencer’s collection at Althorp (_frontispiece_),[237] which measures
only 10½ in. × 7½ in. It is a half-length, three-quarters to the right.
No hair is visible under the cap or beside the ears; the hairs of the
close-cropped fair beard and moustache are drawn with minute care. The
eyes are clear blue-grey. He wears a black cap trimmed with jewels and
loops of pearls and a white feather falling to the left. His gown of
cloth of gold is lined with brown fur, over a light grey doublet cut low
at the neck, embroidered with an elaborate pattern in black, trimmed
with jewels and slashed and puffed with white. The white shirt has a
high collar fitting close round the neck, embroidered with a rich design
in gold, and with a very small frill. On his breast is a round jewel
suspended by a chain of spiral black and gold beads and H’s. The hands
are shown in part, the left at his side, and the right holding a glove.
The background is a plain bright blue.
Footnote 237:
Woltmann, 1. Reproduced (in colour) by the Medici Society;
_Masterpieces of Holbein_ (Gowan’s Art Books, No. 13), p. 7;
_Burlington Fine Arts Club Exhibition Catalogue_, Pl. x.; Ganz,
_Holbein_, p. 120.
[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF HENRY VIII AT ALTHORP]
It is a miniature painting of unusual size, and is drawn with
extraordinary delicacy and truth, and there is an exquisite finish in
all the details of the dress and ornaments, and a harmony in the colour,
which no other painter then practising at the English court but Holbein
was capable of producing. The first impression it gives is that, in
spite of its beauty and brilliance, it yet displays certain differences
from Holbein’s usual style which renders its attribution to him not
absolutely certain; but repeated examination modifies this first
impression, and it becomes impossible not to agree with such critics as
Dr. Woltmann, Mr. Lionel Cust, and Dr. Ganz, who are emphatically of
opinion that Holbein was the author of it. It is impossible, again, to
find any other painter who could have produced so vivid and striking a
portrait of the King, and so accomplished a work of art. Mr. Roger E.
Fry describes it as one of Holbein’s most miraculous pieces of
craftsmanship. “It is little more in scale than a large miniature, and
Holbein has treated it with all the skill in minute delineation which he
alone possessed, and that without losing for a moment unity of tone and
breadth of feeling; but, wonderful as it is, it gives one scarcely any
idea of an actual character. Holbein seems never to have read anything
behind the expansive mask of his royal patron; whether he abstained out
of discretion or failed from want of interest one can but guess.”[238]
After examining the Munich head, however, it is difficult to agree with
Mr. Fry’s opinion that Holbein saw nothing of Henry’s real character.
The Althorp panel is almost identical in position and dress with the
original cartoon for the Whitehall wall-painting, and it is probable
that Holbein intended to use it as his model for the latter. It must
have been painted in 1537, before the wall-painting itself was begun, or
at least before the change in the position of the King’s head was
decided upon. It may be the portrait which in the inventory of Henry
VIII’s pictures, made at his death, was joined to that of Queen Jane
Seymour in a diptych—“Item, a table like a booke, with the picture of
Kynge Henry theight and Quene Jane”; though, if so, the corresponding
portrait of Jane Seymour is lost, for the one of that queen in the
Vienna Gallery is much larger than Lord Spencer’s portrait. The latter
was at South Kensington in 1862 (No. 2651), and again in 1865 (No.
2028), and at the Burlington Fine Arts Club, 1909 (No. 38).
Footnote 238:
_Burlington Magazine_, vol. xv., May 1909, p. 74.
There is an excellent contemporary copy of it in the National Portrait
Gallery (No. 157),[239] 10¾ in. × 7½ in., on copper, which was purchased
in 1863, and was formerly in the collection of Mr. Barrett, of Lee
Priory, Kent. When in his possession it was engraved in line for
Singer’s edition of Cavendish’s _Life of Wolsey_, 1825. The background
is now very dark, but in the engraving it is shown to be a curtain. This
is the chief point of difference between it and Lord Spencer’s panel.
There is also a somewhat weak copy of it among the miniatures in the
Duke of Buccleuch’s collection, which, like the original, has no
inscription. It has suffered extensive repairs at some time or other,
and the eyes are now a bright chestnut colour, evidently due to the
ignorance of the restorer. Other miniatures of Henry VIII, attributed to
Holbein, are dealt with in a succeeding chapter.[240]
Footnote 239:
Reproduced in the illustrated Catalogue, National Portrait Gallery,
vol. i. p. 23.
Footnote 240:
See pp. 233-236.
[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF QUEEN JANE SEYMOUR]
Jane Seymour was the first of Henry’s queens to be painted by Holbein.
The various portraits of Katherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn still
existing are not by him, and it is evident that the artist did not enter
the royal service until after Anne’s execution on 19th May 1536, and
Henry’s very precipitate marriage with Jane Seymour on the following
day. Portraits of both these ladies are usually ascribed to Holbein by
their owners, according to the prevailing fashion of earlier days, when
everything dating from Tudor times was unhesitatingly given to him.
Shortly before Holbein’s return to England in 1532, Katherine of Aragon
had permanently retired from court, and in the seclusion of The Moor,
deserted by the King, her thoughts fully occupied with her impending
divorce, it is not likely that she would have any desire to sit for her
portrait, or to command Holbein to visit her for that purpose. There is
more probability that Anne Boleyn may have been painted by him, but as
no such portrait has been discovered, it must be taken for granted that
he did not. The head among the Windsor drawings, inscribed “Anna Bollein
Queen,”[241] has been wrongly named, and bears no likeness to the few
portraits which may be said with some degree of certainty to represent
her. Much information respecting the portraits of these two queens will
be found in the papers read by Mr. John Gough Nichols and Sir George
Scharf before the Society of Antiquaries in 1863 and published in
_Archæologia_.[242]
Footnote 241:
Woltmann, 323; Wornum, ii. 18; Holmes, i. 25. Reproduced by Davies, p.
214, and elsewhere.
Footnote 242:
Vol. xl. pt. i. pp. 71-88.
There is no evidence to show that Holbein painted either Katherine’s
daughter, Mary, or Anne’s daughter, Elizabeth, though here again
portraits of them exist which in less critical days were said to be by
him. The drawing in the Windsor Collection inscribed “The Lady Mary
after Queen,”[243] has no claim to represent Queen Mary, nor is there
any known portrait of her which bears any likeness to Holbein’s style of
painting. The Princess Elizabeth was ten years old at the time of the
painter’s death, whereas the youngest portrait of her extant is the very
interesting one at the age of about fifteen or sixteen in the Royal
Collection,[244] which was included in Charles I’s catalogue as “A
Whitehall piece of Holben,” and said to represent “Queen Elizabeth when
she was young, to the waist.” This is probably a work of Franco-Flemish
origin, and has nothing to do with Holbein, who, if he had painted her,
must have shown her as a little girl. Mr. Nichols, in his paper
mentioned above, states that “there can be little doubt that Holbein
drew the King’s natural son, Henry FitzRoy, Duke of Richmond and
Suffolk, who lived until the 22nd July 1536,” but no such portrait or
drawing of him can be discovered. There is, however, among the Windsor
heads, a drawing of his wife, Mary,[245] daughter of Thomas, third Duke
of Norfolk, and sister of Henry, Earl of Surrey, both of whom sat to
Holbein. It is a fine drawing, but very badly rubbed. She is represented
full-face, with the eyes cast down, and wearing a close-fitting white
cap or hood, and a large flat black hat with a big ostrich feather. The
dress is powdered with the letter R, which in some cases seems to be
formed of pearls, while the letter M also occurs twice. This fashion of
wearing an initial letter, usually as a pendant ornament, was by no
means unusual at that period, and occurs in more than one of Holbein’s
portraits. The drawing of the Duchess is inscribed “The Lady of
Richmond.”
Footnote 243:
Woltmann, 331; Wornum, ii. 39; Holmes, ii. 15. Reproduced by Davies,
p. 216.
Footnote 244:
Reproduced by Cust, _Royal Collection of Paintings, Windsor Castle_,
Pl. 48.
Footnote 245:
Woltmann, 324; Wornum, ii. 17; Holmes, ii. 23.
It is not until we come to the portrait of Queen Jane Seymour in the
Imperial Gallery, Vienna (No. 1481) (Pl. 20),[246] that we are on
certain ground. This is a genuine work of Holbein of very fine quality.
She is shown almost to the knees, the body and head turned slightly to
the left, and her hands clasped in front of her. She is dressed in red
velvet, with hanging sleeves covered with gold embroidery, and
under-sleeves of lilac-grey watered silk with an elaborate pattern,
worked with seed pearls, and slashed and puffed with white. The cuffs
have a deep border of wonderfully painted black Spanish work. She wears
two heavy necklaces, of jewels and pearls, and a band of similar
ornament along the edge of her square-cut bodice, and an ornament at the
breast composed of the initials I.H.S. and three pendant pearls. Her
head-dress is of the angular English pattern. The inner cap, which
completely hides her hair, is of brown silk with a black stripe, and the
jewelled band or framework is of the same pattern as the border of the
dress. The body of the head-dress is cloth of gold, with the customary
black fall. The background is of dark grey-blue without inscription. The
colour scheme is rich and harmonious, but delicate and pearly in tone,
and a considerable amount of gold has been used in the painting of the
jewels, and the gold tissue and embroidery of the cap. Once again the
extraordinarily fine painting of the hands has to be recorded; they are
full of expression and character. There is less expression in the face.
She has no great pretensions to beauty, and her complexion is pale, thus
agreeing with all contemporary accounts of her appearance. In a
singularly frank letter from Chapuys to Antoine Perrenot, dated London,
18th May 1536, which was intended for the Emperor’s ears, the Spanish
ambassador says: “She is sister to one Edward Semel, of middle stature,
and no great beauty, so fair that one would call her rather pale than
otherwise.... The said Semel is not a woman of great wit, but she may
have good understanding. It is said she inclines to be proud and
haughty. She bears great love and reverence to the Princess (_i.e._
Mary). I know not if honors will make her change hereafter.”[247] He
then proceeds to throw doubts upon the lady’s virtue, and to speak in
coarse innuendo of Henry’s matrimonial ventures. The panel, which is
probably the one which was in the Arundel Collection, measures 65 cm. by
48 cm., and is of the same size as the portrait of Dr. John Chamber;
they are the largest of Holbein’s works in the Vienna Gallery. This
portrait was evidently the one seen by Van Mander in Amsterdam in 1604.
He says: “There was, at Amsterdam, in the Warmoesstraat, a portrait of a
Queen of England, admirably executed, and very pretty and nice; she was
attired in silver brocade, which appears to be genuine silver with some
admixture, and it was depicted so transparently, curiously, and
exquisitely, that a white foil seemed to lie beneath.”[248]
Footnote 246:
Woltmann, 252. Reproduced by Davies, p. 170; Knackfuss, fig. 127;
Vienna Catalogue, p. 345; A. F. Pollard, _Henry VIII_, p. 232; Ganz,
_Holbein_, p. 119.
Footnote 247:
_C.L.P._, vol. x. 901.
Footnote 248:
Quoted by Woltmann, Eng. trans., p. 398.
[Illustration:
VOL. II., PLATE 20
QUEEN JANE SEYMOUR
IMPERIAL GALLERY, VIENNA
]
[Sidenote: PORTRAITS OF QUEEN JANE SEYMOUR]
The original study for this portrait is in the Windsor Collection.[249]
It is a fine drawing of very delicate draughtsmanship, and shows more of
the figure than most of the sketches in the series, the folded hands
being included. Several replicas of the picture still remain in England,
the two best of which, excellent contemporary copies, are in the Duke of
Bedford’s collection at Woburn Abbey, and in that of Lord Sackville at
Knole. The latter was in the Tudor Exhibition, 1890 (No. 44), and the
Burlington Fine Arts Club, 1909 (No. 46). Another version is in the
possession of the Duke of Northumberland. Hollar made an admirable
engraving from the Arundel version, a small circle dated 1648 (Parthey
1427); and there is at Windsor, as already noted, a miniature painted
from it by Nicholas Hilliard, which is inscribed “ANŌ DNĪ 1536 ÆTATIS
SVÆ 27.”[250] Hilliard, no doubt, found this inscription on the original
from which he worked, but nothing of the kind is now discernible either
on the picture in Vienna or Lord Sackville’s version. It may, however,
have been taken from one of the numerous miniatures of this Queen, dealt
with in a later chapter.[251] This inscription is valuable as giving the
probable date at which Holbein painted the Queen, and proves that he was
in the royal service as early as in the summer of 1536. Very probably
the portrait was afterwards used by him as the basis for the head and
position of Jane in the Whitehall wall-painting. There is an excellent
old copy of the portrait in the Hague Gallery (No. 278) which shows
slight differences.[252]
Footnote 249:
Woltmann, 325; Wornum, ii. 22; Holmes, i. 1. Reproduced by Davies, p.
170, and elsewhere.
Footnote 250:
See p. 91. Reproduced in _Burlington Magazine_, vol. viii., Jan. 1906,
Pl. ii. (9), in an article on “Nicholas Hilliard” by Sir Richard
Holmes.
Footnote 251:
See pp. 237-238.
Footnote 252:
Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 195.
In addition to this portrait, Holbein prepared a design for a large gold
cup, bearing the initials of Henry and Jane, and the latter’s motto,
evidently intended as a present from the King to his consort. The
finished drawing is in the Bodleian Library, Oxford, and there is
another version of it in the British Museum. It is the most important of
Holbein’s designs for goldsmith’s work which has been preserved, and is
described in a later chapter.[253] Henry VIII appears to have been
genuinely devoted to his third wife, but his happiness was short-lived,
for she died on October 24, 1537, twelve days after the birth of her
son, Edward VI, her death being due to carelessness on the part of her
attendants.
Footnote 253:
See pp. 274-275.
Not a single dated portrait of the year 1537 remains, nor is there one
which can be ascribed with any certainty to this year. Possibly the
great Whitehall wall-painting and other works for the King occupied much
of Holbein’s time.
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