NATIVE AND FOREIGN ARTISTS IN ENGLAND DURING THE REIGN OF HENRY VIII
Henry VIII’s patronage of the fine arts—English painters in his
service—John Browne—The Paynter-Stayners’ Company—Andrew Wright—John
Hethe—Foreign artists at Henry’s Court—Gerard, Lucas, and Susanna
Hornebolt—Katherine Maynors and Henry Maynert—Johannes Corvus—The
Italian painters and sculptors—Paganino—Pietro Torrigiano—Vincent
Volpe—Alessandro Carmillian—Antonio Toto and Bartolommeo
Penni—Benedetto da Rovezzano and Giovanni da Maiano—Nicolas Bellin of
Modena—Girolamo da Treviso.
BEFORE describing the work carried out by Holbein during his first visit
to this country, it may be of service to give a short account of the
state of art in England at that period, and of the various foreign
painters and craftsmen then settled in London, and of the few native
artists whose names have survived.
England under Tudor rule offered a far better field for lucrative
employment than Basel for a painter of Holbein’s genius. Henry VIII was
still at the highest point of his reputation as a monarch, popular with
all classes of his subjects, and an ardent patron of literature and the
fine arts. He was himself one of the most accomplished men of his time
within his own realm. He was proficient in Latin, French, Spanish, and
Italian, and assiduous in all affairs of state. He was passionately fond
of music, and skilful both in its practice and theory, playing well upon
the lute, organ, and harpsichord. He also sang and danced well. “His
delight in gorgeous pageantry and splendid ceremonial,” says Dr.
Brewer,[530] “if without any studied design, was not without advantage.
Cloth of gold and tissue, New Year’s gifts, Christmas masquerades, and
May Day mummeries, fell with heavy expense on the nobility, but afforded
a cheap and gratuitous amusement to the people. The roughest of the
populace were not excluded from their share in the enjoyment. Sometimes,
in a boisterous fit of delight, he would allow and even invite the
lookers-on to scramble for the rich ornaments of his own dress and those
of his courtiers. Unlike his father, he showed himself everywhere. He
entered with ease into the sports of others, and allowed them with equal
ease to share in his.”
[Sidenote: HENRY VIII AS A PATRON OF ARTS]
Henry’s Court was considered to be the most magnificent of its time.
Large sums were spent on luxuries, on dress, and in other directions.
Foreign jewellers, and dealers in the fine arts, found in the King a
ready purchaser. He was interested in architecture, and gave a close
personal attention to the building and decoration of his various
palaces. He was a collector of beautiful armour and weapons, and
employed many foreign craftsmen in different decorative arts. In
painting he took an equal pleasure, and he was the first of the English
kings to form an important collection of pictures, which was hung in a
gallery in his palace of Whitehall, of which he himself kept the key. He
threw out inducements to foreign artists to settle in England and enter
his service, and in his patronage of the fine arts displayed a keen but
friendly rivalry with Francis I. These foreigners were chiefly Italian,
though a certain number of painters and craftsmen had come over from the
Netherlands. Among them all, however, there was no one who in any way
approached the greatness of Holbein as an artist. Several men of
considerable skill and some artistic pretensions remained in England for
more or less lengthy periods, but there was no master of the first rank
either from Italy or Flanders. Unlike his rival, Francis I, Henry was
unable to attract to his Court men of such outstanding powers as
Leonardo da Vinci, Benvenuto Cellini, or Primaticcio, all of whom
entered the service of the French Crown. Holbein, indeed, had nothing to
fear from the rivalry of any foreigner at that time settled in London,
and still less from the numerous English painters, who were of little
importance and of mediocre abilities. Native talent, indeed, was at a
very low ebb. The influence of the Italian revival of learning made
itself felt in this country at an earlier date than that of the
renaissance of the arts. No school of English painting was in existence
capable of taking advantage of such influence, and of basing a new
native art upon it. The English painters, indeed, were hardly painters
at all in the modern sense. Many of them were mere house-painters and
decorators; tradesmen occupied in various more or less artistic ways,
but rarely, if ever, in the painting of pictures or portraits. They were
painters of heraldic devices and shields, of banners and armour, of
walls, ceilings, and ships, which can be definitely assigned to any one
of them; even such third-rate productions as those preserved at Hampton
Court, like “The Battle of Spurs,” or “The Field of the Cloth of Gold,”
for generations attributed to Holbein, were probably not from the hand
of an Englishman, but the work of foreigners.
At the time of Holbein’s arrival in London, in the winter of 1526-1527,
the leading English artist was John Browne, who was serjeant-painter to
the King, an office he held for more than twenty years. He was appointed
to the post on the 20th December 1511, in the third year of Henry’s
reign, with an allowance of twopence a day out of the issues of the
lordship of Whitley, in Surrey, and four ells of cloth at Christmas,
annually, of the value of 6_s._ 8_d._ an ell, from the keeper of the
great wardrobe, for his livery.[531]
[Sidenote: JOHN BROWNE, SERJEANT-PAINTER]
On the 24th September 1511 he received the balance of his bill for
painting the streamers, banners, flags, and staves belonging to the
King’s ship, _The Mary and John_, amounting to £16, 14_s._ 8_d._, and on
the 17th December in the same year, £142, 4_s._ 6_d._ for painting and
staining banners for _The Mary Rose_ and _The Peter Pounde Garnarde_
(Pomegranate).[532] Browne occasionally employed the services of Vincent
Volpe, an Italian, for this banner-painting, and also from time to time
supplied the materials for the royal revels. Thus, for the jousts on the
1st June 1512, “2,100 of party gold” for surcoats was bought from him
for £2, 6_s._, and in the following year he received 10_d._ for the hire
of sails “to shadow the percloos for the pageant.”[533] In June 1513 he
received £4, 8_s._ 8_d._ from the royal purse for painting “divers of
the Pope’s arms in divers colours,” and on the 10th April in the
following year he rendered an account for work done on the King’s royal
ship, the _Great Harry_ or _Henry Grace à Dieu_, which included the
supply of flags, banners, and streamers, two of them with crosses of St.
George, and painting sixty staves in the King’s colours in oil at 6_d._
apiece.[534]
Browne was among those employed upon the temporary buildings at Guisnes,
which included a banqueting house and a chapel, and lodgings for Henry
and his Queen and the members of the English and French Courts, erected
for the purpose of Henry’s state visit to France, and his meeting with
Francis, known as the Field of the Cloth of Gold. Sir Nicholas Vaux
wrote to Wolsey that they would be able to finish the square court by
the last day of May, provided John Rastell, Clement Urmeston, and John
Browne, the King’s painter, “do make and garnish all the roses—a
marvellous great charge, for the roses be large and stately.”[535] Later
on complaint is made from the same correspondent, that Browne, who has
to gild the roofs, has not yet reached Calais.[536] For this work he
received two payments of £66, 13_s._ 4_d._, and £333, 6_s._ 8_d._ For
the masking at New Hall on the 19th February 1520, he was paid £19,
13_s._ 4_d._ for the beating and putting on the scales of gold and
silver on the garments and bonnets of seven children, one in red,
powdered with gold suns and clouds; the second in yellow, powdered with
moons and clouds; the third in blue, powdered with drops of silver; the
fourth powdered with gold primroses; the fifth with silver honeysuckles;
the sixth with gold stars, and the seventh with silver snowflakes.[537]
By right of his office of serjeant-painter he had the provision of coats
for the heralds. Thus, in 1520 he received 40_s._ for a tabard of
sarcenet painted for Nottingham pursuivant.[538] In 1523 he rendered an
account of “parcellis of stuff” made for the “high and myghty prynce
Charlis duke of Suffolke, then beyng a poynttyd to be lyffetenant
generall of Kyngis royall armye in to the partyes of France.” The items
included a standard wrought with fine gold and silver on double sarcenet
fringed with silk (£3), banners with the Duke’s arms, a coat of arms
wrought with fine gold and silks and in oil on double sarcenet for his
herald, and escutcheons in metal on paper royal, and others in colour,
and on buckram, each with his arms, and so on, the total bill amounting
to £26, 3_s._[539] In 1524, for the revels at Greenwich, in which a
castle was assaulted in the tilt-yard, he provided the painted cloths of
which the sham buildings were made—“iiij pessys of clothe payntyng of
Antuyke, wherewith the Kastell was envenyd,” and for various banners and
coats of arms, £4, 10_s._[540] For revels held on the 10th November
1527, Browne supplied all the materials, including paints, glue,
scissors, gold-foil, &c., to the amount of £21, 6_s._ 0½_d._, which were
used for making trees, bushes, branches, roses, rosemary, hawthorn,
mulberries, panes of gold, “flosynge of stars,” &c., for a “place of
plesyer” erected under the superintendence of Richard Gibson at
Greenwich. The masque was a theological one, in which Luther and his
wife appeared, as well as the Apostles, Religion, Heresy, and similar
characters.[541] These various details, which could be multiplied, are
sufficient to indicate the kind of work upon which the King’s
serjeant-painter was usually engaged; and all the other English painters
were men of a similar stamp—decorators, scene-painters of a kind, but
rarely, if ever, painters of a panel picture.
[Sidenote: ANDREW WRIGHT, SERJEANT-PAINTER]
Browne prospered in his calling, and on May 7, 1522, was elected an
Alderman of London for the Ward of Farringdon Without. At first he was
unwilling to accept office, and was committed to ward for refusal, but
afterwards complied, and was appointed one of the Aldermen to the
Haberdashers’ Company. In the following year, on July 25th, he was
translated to the Ward of Farringdon Within. His service, however,
always appears to have been an unwilling one, and in 1525, before he had
served the office of Sheriff or Mayor, he was on his own request
discharged from the office of Alderman, for which he gave to the Chamber
of London two great standing salts of silver-gilt. “He made his will on
the 17th September 1532, and on the 21st of the same month he conveyed
to his brethren of the Paynter-Stayners a house in Trinity Lane, which
he had purchased nearly thirty years before, and which has from that
time continued to be the Painters’ Hall. Dying soon after, he was buried
in the church of St. Vedast, at the west end of Chepe; and his will was
proved on the 2nd December following.”[542]
This will, and the documents in connection with the transference of the
house to the Paynter-Stayners, make us acquainted with the names of many
of the English painters at work in London at that period. He left all
his books of arms and badges and books of tricks of arms to his
apprentice, Rychard Bygnalle, as well as painting materials and other
materials at cost price to a second apprentice or “servaunte,” John
Childe. To Richard Calard and John Howell, both brother painters, he
left his best “prymmer” and a doublet respectively. Among other English
painters mentioned in the deed of September 21st, 1532, were Andrew
Wright, who succeeded him as serjeant-painter, Christopher Wright,
Richard Rypyngale, Richard Laine, Thomas Alexander, John Hethe, Richard
Gates, Thomas Crystyne, William Lucas, Richard Hauntlowe, and Robert
Cope. A later conveyance (of 1549) adds the names of several members of
the Wysdom family, and David Playne, Thomas Ballard, Thomas Uncle,
Thomas Cob, Thomas Spenser, John Feltes, William Wagynton, William
Cudnor, Richard Flint, Richard Wright (probably a son of Andrew), and
Melchior Engleberd, a foreigner who had become naturalised.[543]
Walpole[544] mentions John Browne’s portrait as still preserved in
Painter-Stainers’ Hall, but it is not a contemporary work. It represents
him attired in the gown and gold chain of an alderman, and was probably
painted some time after the Great Fire of 1666, to take the place of an
earlier one that had been destroyed.
Andrew Wright succeeded John Browne. On June 19, 1532, he received a
grant of the “reversion of the office of the King’s serjeant-painter,
with an annuity of £10 out of the small custom and subsidy of tonnage
and poundage in the port of London, as the said office was granted by
patent 12th March, 18 Hen. VIII, to John Browne.”[545] In the King’s
accounts for February 1532 he appears, in the phonetic spelling of the
day, as “Andrewe Oret,” receiving on the 20th of that month £30 for
“painting of the King’s barge, and the covering of the same.”[546]
During 1532 he was at work in Westminster Palace. Thirty-one painters
were occupied there upon a large wall-painting of the Coronation of
Henry VIII, “made and set out in the Low Gallery by the orchard, as also
upon the outsides of the walls of the New Gallery.” Both Englishmen and
foreigners were engaged. Isaac Lebrune, who appears to have been the
foreman painter, received a shilling a day; John Augustyne and Nic.
Lasora, tenpence; William Plasyngton, sevenpence; and Robert Short,
sixpence. Andrew Wright’s share was the gilding of the gallery roof,
including the painting and gilding of four “cases of iron for
clockis,”[547] the latter being very similar to at least one piece of
work undertaken by Holbein in Basel shortly after his return from his
first visit to England.
In a list of debts, dated 1536, owing by Queen Anne Boleyn at her death,
occurs the name of “Androw, paynter,” for 29_s._ 4_d._, which probably
refers to Wright;[548] and on the 29th September 1539, his name, as the
King’s painter, appears in the Great Wardrobe accounts as one of the
royal creditors.[549] Again, on the 17th July in that year (1539) he is
mentioned in Thomas Cromwell’s accounts as Andrew Wryte or Wryght, “for
things done at my Lord’s stallation,” as Knight of the Garter, £21,
7_s._;[550] while in May 1541 he is paid by warrant, out of the King’s
household expenses, £39, 6_s._ 8_d._ “for the painting of certain coats
of arms for the heralds at arms.”[551]
Wright died in the same year as Holbein, but a few months earlier, and
his will was proved in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury on the 29th
May 1543. “He left estates at Stratford-le-Bow, at ‘the Gleane’ in the
parish of St. Olave, Southwark, ‘the Bottle’ in Bermondsey, and at
Cowden, in Kent, where he had a manufactory of ‘pynck.’ (Pink was a
vegetable pigment, answering to the _giallo santo_ of the Italians, and
_stil-de-grain_ of the French.) He desired to be buried, like his
predecessor, Browne, in the church of St. Vedast, and requested his
friend Garter (Christopher Barker) to be overseer of the will, a
circumstance which testifies to his connection in business with the
College of Heralds.”[552] He left £40 and all his vessels and apparatus
for the making of pink to his eldest son, Christopher, and £40 to the
younger son, Richard, and £4 a year so long as he lived with his mother.
[Sidenote: THE HORNEBOLT FAMILY]
John Hethe, or Heath, another member of the Painter-Stainers’ Company,
one of the painters to whom John Browne’s house was consigned, was also
in the royal employment, and was very probably one of the men engaged at
Nonsuch Palace.[553] His will is dated 1st August 1552, and in it he
leaves to his elder son, Lancelot, “my frames, tentes, stoles, patrons,
stones, mullers, with the necessaries belonging or appertaining to
Payntour’s crafte,” and to his second son, Lawrence, “all my moldes and
molded work that I served the Kinge withal,” while to each of his
apprentices he bequeathed 6_s._ 8_d._ and a grindingstone, and to his
Company 20_s._, “to make them a recreation or banket ymmediatlye after
my decease.”[554] Among the list of the things which he wished to be
left in his house so long as his wife dwelt there, he mentions “pictures
in tables,” which at first sight would seem to indicate that he
occasionally painted pictures. It is more likely, however, that these
were works by other artists, for, like his brother painter-stainers, he
appears to have been chiefly a decorator and a maker of moulded and
coloured work for house-fronts and royal residences such as Nonsuch and
other more temporary purposes, such as masques and revels, and the
ornamentation of buildings erected for particular occasions, which were
pulled down when done with, while the moulded work was preserved for
future use. The more valuable of these moulds were often kept in leather
cases made on purpose for them.
Of far greater importance as artists, and more dangerous rivals to
Holbein in his search for work in England, were the numerous Italians
and Netherlanders at that time settled here, and, in most instances,
attached to the Court. The most important group of painters of the
latter nationality were the three members of the Hoorenbault, Hornebolt,
or Hornebaud family, Gerard, Lucas, and Susanna. This family belonged to
Ghent, and from the first years of the fifteenth century had been
painters and masters of the Guild of St. Luke. The exact relationships
of the three are not entirely clear. Walpole rolled the two men into
one, and called him Gerard Luke Horneband.[555] Mr. Nichols[556]
suggests that Luke was Gerard’s elder brother, and that Susanna was
their sister. Mr. Wornum[557] regarded Gerard as the father of the other
two.
There are several Hoorenbaults named Lucas in the lists of the masters
of the Ghent Guild—one in 1512, who was sub-dean in 1525; another who
was admitted in 1533, and was sub-dean in 1539; and a third Lucas, the
son of Lucas, admitted in 1534.[558] The name Gerard does not occur in
the lists, but in the communal accounts for 1510-11, there are payments
to Gheraerd Hurebaut, scildere, for painting a plan of part of the town
of Ghent and its neighbourhood. He painted altar-pieces for the church
of St. Bavon, designed vestments, and was employed as an illuminator of
books by Margaret of Austria at Antwerp and Mechlin.[558] Albrecht Dürer
met him at Antwerp in 1521, when on his journey through the Netherlands,
and noted in his diary—“Item, Master Gerhart, Illuminator, has a young
daughter, about eighteen years of age, her name is Susanna; she has made
a coloured drawing of Our Saviour, for which I gave her a florin; it is
wonderful that a woman should be able to do such a work.”
[Sidenote: THE HORNEBOLT FAMILY]
This Gerard was married to Margaret Svanders, of Ghent, daughter of
Derich Svanders and widow of Jan van Heerweghe.[558] She died at Fulham
on 26th November 1529 in the house of her daughter Susanna, who was then
the wife of John Parker, the King’s bowman and a yeoman of the robes, as
may be gathered from a brass plate with a Latin inscription in Fulham
Church, in which her husband is spoken of as Gerard Hornebolt, the most
noted painter of Ghent.[559] There is no evidence to show that it was
this Gerard who came to England, and Mr. Cust’s surmise is probably
correct,[560] that the Lucas, Gerard, and Susanna who were employed at
Henry’s Court, were the children of Gerard and Margaret Hoorenbault.
Luke was always in receipt of a higher salary than Gerard from the royal
purse, his monthly wages being 55_s._ 6_d._, whereas Gerard only
received 33_s._ 4_d._ This would hardly have been the case had the
latter been his father. Luke was probably the elder brother. The elder
Gerard was dead in Ghent in 1540-1, when his son Joris was served as his
heir. His wife Margaret seems to have been only in England on a visit to
her daughter and son-in-law when she died at Fulham in 1529. The three
Hornebolts, as their name was anglicised, appear to have arrived in
England only a year or two before Holbein. The exact date of their entry
into Henry’s service cannot be ascertained, as, unfortunately, none of
the royal household accounts prior to October 1528 have been preserved,
and in that month both Luke and Gerard are entered as receiving the
salaries mentioned above.
Both Vasari and Lodovico Guicciardini (1567) speak of Lucas Hurembout as
a well-known illuminator of Ghent, and state that his sister Susanna was
so renowned for similar work that she was induced to come to England by
Henry VIII, where she was in great favour at the Court, and died here
rich and honoured. Immerzeel in his _De Levens en Werken der Hollandsche
en Vlaamsche Kunstschilders_ (1842) says that she married an English
sculptor named Whorstley, and died at Worcester, but upon what authority
he based this statement is not known.
Luke Hornebolt received a grant of denization by patent dated 22nd June
1534, in which he is described as a native of Flanders, with licence to
keep in his service four journeymen or covenant servants, born out of
the King’s dominions, notwithstanding the statute of 14 & 15 Henry VIII
to the contrary. By a second patent of the same date he received a
“grant of the office of King’s painter, and of a tenement or messuage in
the parish of St. Margaret in Westminster, an empty place on the east
side of the same tenement, the south of which looks upon the hermitage
of St. Katherine, and the north part on a tenement lately built by the
Crown.”[561] He died in London in May 1544; his will, which is dated 8th
December 1543, was proved on 27th May 1544. He received his wages up to
April in that year, but in May is entered as “Item, for Lewke
Hornebaude, paynter, wages nil quia mortuus.” In his will he calls
himself Lucas Hornebolt, “servante and painter unto the Kinges
majestie,” and requests to be buried where it shall please his friends
in the parish of St. Martins-in-the-Fields beside Charing Cross. He
leaves his wife, Margaret, possibly an Englishwoman, and his daughter,
Jacomyne, his executrices, with two-thirds of his property to the former
and one-third to the latter. Richard Airell was appointed overseer of
the will, and William Delahay and Robert Spenser were the witnesses.
Nothing is definitely known as to the paintings produced by these three
artists in England, though it is very possible that certain of the
numerous portraits of Henry VIII still in existence were painted by Luke
and Gerard, and that some of the miniatures of him were from the brush
of Susanna, all such paintings, in earlier days, being attributed to
Holbein. The portrait of Henry VIII in Warwick Castle, and similar
versions in Kimbolton Castle, St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, and elsewhere,
are now generally ascribed to one or other of the Hornebolts. The
last-named version is dated 1544, so that Holbein could not have painted
it. Another version, belonging to the Marquis of Bute, was said by Dr.
Waagen, who saw it at Luton House, to be “exactly like the picture by
Holbein at Warwick Castle, only less finished. If by Gerard Horebout, as
stated here, it is a copy from Holbein.”
The very fact that tradition attached the name of an almost unknown
artist to this picture of the King, in the days when it was the fashion
to regard every portrait of Henry VIII as a work of Holbein’s, is
sufficient to suggest that the tradition is in all probability the
correct one. “When tradition,” says Mr. Wornum, “notwithstanding the
mischievous activity of presumptuous ignorance, has still handed down
works with comparatively obscure names attached to them, the fact alone
should go a great way towards its confirmation as truth.”[562] Dr.
Waagen, however, never hesitated to discard such attributions, and often
saw Holbein in pictures which more modern criticism has shown could not
have been from his brush.
Lucas is said to have given Holbein his first instructions in
miniature-painting, and no doubt all three members of the family were
miniaturists and illuminators, and were employed in producing the small
portraits of the King and the members of his family so often required by
Henry for sending abroad as gifts to other reigning monarchs or as
presents to subjects whom he wished to honour. Thus, in the summer of
1527, the King sent, through his representative in Paris, portraits of
himself and the Princess Mary to Francis I. Whether these were
miniatures or not is uncertain, but upon the backs of them were painted
various royal devices, which were explained to the French King, who
“liked them singularly well, and at the first sight of Henry’s
‘phisonamye’ took off his bonnet, saying he knew well that face, and
further, ‘Je prie Dieu que il luy done bone vie et longue.’ He then
looked at the Princess’s, standing in contemplation and beholding
thereof a great while, and gave much commendation and laud unto the
same.”[563] These two portraits may have been painted by one or other of
the Hornebolts.
[Sidenote: MINIATURES OF THE KING IN DEEDS]
More than one deed of the period, preserved in the Record Office, is
ornamented with an initial letter containing a portrait of Henry VIII.
Thus, on one confirming to Wolsey’s College at Oxford all the
possessions granted to them by the King, dated 5th May 1526, there is a
fine miniature of Henry in the initial letter done by an artist of
considerable ability.[564] Other deeds having reference to the
Cardinal’s College at Ipswich have the royal miniature and arms, as well
as Wolsey’s arms and insignia, beautifully tricked by some foreigner;
and another, dealing with the same college, with a miniature of the
King, the royal supporters, &c. &c., with an architectural column by the
side of the initial letter, and an angel bearing the letters “H.R.”[565]
These are all of the year 1528, while another, dated 1st January 1529,
is illuminated in the same way, and is equally well done.[566] In an
account of Wolsey’s for preparing these deeds for the college there is
an item: “For vellum and making great letters for my Lord his patents,
13_s._” Also “To Hert, for vellum, parchment and drawing of great
letters, 39_s._ 2_d._” The writing appears to have been chiefly done by
Stephen Vaughan, for which he received £6, 17_s._ 9_d._, and among the
payments made to several people “for writing,” there is mention of one
“Gerarde,” who was very possibly Gerard Hornebolt.[567] It is,
therefore, not unlikely that Lucas and Gerard were responsible for the
miniatures at the head of such deeds. Who “Hert” or Hart, was, who drew
the “great letters,” there is so far no evidence to show, but he was
probably an Englishman.
The work of Lucas Hornebolt as a painter of portrait-miniatures, and his
almost certain identity with the “Master Lukas” who first instructed
Holbein in this branch of art, is dealt with in a later chapter. In
April 1532 he received the grant of a royal licence to export 400
quarters of barley, in which he is called “Luke Hornebolt, a native of
Flanders;”[568] and in 1536-7 (28 Hen. VIII), in connection with some
revels and masques at Hampton Court, occurs the item, “To Lucas
Horneholte, painter, for painting with black upon paper, of 3 bulls and
3 small rolls, 5_s._”[569] Among the presents received by the King on
New Year’s Day, 1539, was a fire-screen from Lucas Hornebolt, which is
entered in the royal accounts thus: “By Lewcas paynter a skrene to set
afore the fyre, standing uppon a fote of woode, and the skrene blewe
worsted.”[570] He was given in return a gilt cruse weighing 10½ oz., and
his servant who delivered it 6_s._ 8_d._, Holbein and Antonio Toto
receiving similar presents at the same time.
Gerard Hornebolt’s service in the royal household was of shorter
duration than Luke’s. Up to May 1531 his name always occurs in the
treasurer’s accounts in conjunction with his brother, but there is a
break in the records from that date until Lady Day 1538, the household
books for that period having disappeared, and from October 1538 Luke’s
name alone appears. His death is not recorded, as it was the custom to
do when salaries were concerned, by some such entry as “wages nihil quia
mortuus,” as was done in the case of his brother Luke in 1544; so that
it is probable that he returned to Ghent at some date between 1531 and
1538, leaving his brother and sister permanently settled in England. In
this connection it is interesting to note that in a list of payments
made by Sir Richard Wingfield in Calais between the 8th January 1513 and
the 21st November 1514, there is an entry of £33, 6_s._ 8_d._ paid to
“the glazier of Antwerp (possibly Galyon Hone) for glazing the great
east window in St. Nicholas’ Church, Calais, by the King’s command,” and
that 25_s._ was paid “to a painter of Gaunt for taking the portraiture
of the King’s visage to be set in the said window.”[571] The name of the
elder Gerard may be suggested as the artist employed for this purpose,
as one of the leading painters of Ghent. It does not follow from the
entry that the drawing was supplied by some painter then settled in
England, while the small fee paid almost precludes the possibility that
an artist was sent over specially from Calais to London to sketch the
King; but Gerard Hoorenbault appears to have been resident in Antwerp at
about that time (1513), and the commission may have been given him by
the Antwerp glazier who was carrying out the work.
In addition to Susanna Hornebolt, two other skilled Netherlandish
miniaturists of her sex came over to England during the later years of
Henry VIII’s reign. What little is known of Livina Teerlinc, or Terling,
as she was called in this country, is given in a later chapter.[572]
Nothing is known about the second miniaturist, Katherine Maynor or
Maynors, except that she received a patent of denization in November
1540, in which she is described as a “widow, painter, born at Antwerp in
Brabant.”[573] She may, perhaps, have been some relation of Henry
Maynert, painter, one of the witnesses to Holbein’s will; or even the
widow of the John Maynard who, with John Bell, was employed upon the
painting of Henry VII’s tomb.
[Sidenote: JOHANNES CORVUS]
Another notable painter from the Low Countries who was a contemporary of
Holbein’s in England, was Johannes Corvus, of Flanders, whose style of
painting can be judged by two well-authenticated portraits—that of
Richard Foxe, Bishop of Winchester, in Corpus Christi College, Oxford,
of which college he was the founder; and that of Princess Mary Tudor,
sister of Henry VIII and widow of Louis XII, painted in 1532, when she
was the wife of Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, which was lent to the
Exhibition of Early English Portraiture at the Burlington Fine Arts Club
in 1909 by Mr. H. Dent-Brocklehurst (No. 28). A similar manner of
painting is to be found in a series of portraits of Princess Mary Tudor,
afterwards Queen, including the one in the National Portrait Gallery,
dated 1544, which is attributed to Corvus in the catalogue. This picture
has much resemblance to a portrait of a Tudor princess, possibly Queen
Elizabeth, belonging to Mrs. Booth, of Glendon Hall,[574] which has
always borne the traditional name of Katherine Parr. To this group may
be added the portrait of Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk, in the National
Portrait Gallery.[575] If the portraits of Queen Mary are by Corvus, he
may be identified with some certainty as the “one John that drue her
Grace in a table,” for which he received £5 in 1544, as noted in the
Princess Mary’s Privy Purse Expenses.
“Corvus,” says Mr. Cust, “may be safely identified with one Jan Raf, or
Rave, who was admitted to the Guild of Painters at Bruges in 1512, and
with the “Jehan Raf, painctre de Flandres,” who in 1532 painted for
Francis I “une carte ou est figuré les villes et pays d’Angleterre,” and
in 1534, “ung pourtraict de la ville de Londres dont il a ci-devant fait
présent au dict Seigneur.” These entries show that Jehan Raf was sent to
England from France, possibly more than once. The fact that no portraits
are attributed to him in England between 1532 and 1544 may be accounted
for by his return to France during the supremacy of Holbein, after whose
death he found an opportunity of establishing himself at the English
Court.”[576]
With regard to Guillim Stretes, the Dutchman, Gerlach Fliccius, or
Garlicke, as he is termed in the inventory of the pictures in Lumley
Castle made in 1590, and the clever painter who used the monogram H.E.,
whose true identity as one Hans Eworthe or Eewouts has been recently
discovered by Mr. Lionel Cust by means of the same inventory,[577] as no
works of theirs have been so far discovered in this country having a
date prior to that of Holbein’s death in 1543, consideration of them is
reserved until a later chapter dealing with Holbein’s successors.
Among the foreign painters and sculptors who found employment in England
under Henry VIII, the Italians were by far the most numerous, though the
inducements offered were not sufficiently alluring to artists of the
highest rank, such as were to be found from time to time at the French
Court. Many of them, no doubt, were brought over by the various merchant
representatives of the leading Italian business houses, such as the
Bardi, the Cavalcanti, the Corsi, the Frescobaldi, and others. Italian
workmen were frequently employed upon buildings, more particularly in
the south-east of England, where Italian handiwork and influences can be
easily observed, as at Hampton Court, Sutton Place, Layer Marney, East
Bursham, and elsewhere, both in the use of terra-cotta, plaster-work in
ceilings and friezes, arabesque work in mullions and mouldings, and in
other directions. On more than one house the stone figures and carvings
were the work of master workmen brought over from Italy, while the few
good Tuscan sculptors employed by Henry VIII exercised considerable
influence upon the English craftsmen with whom they worked—an influence
which did not immediately die away upon their departure.
The first Italians to come over were chiefly sculptors and makers of
ornaments, workers in marble and alabaster and plaster. The few painters
who accompanied them were of much the same type as their English
contemporaries, decorators of houses, and makers of heraldic designs,
colourers of sculpture and painters of banners and badges, though
probably more skilful than the English, and capable on occasion of
painting a picture.
The first of the sculptors employed was Guido Mazzoni, or Paganino, of
Modena, known here as Master Pageny, who was entrusted with the task of
designing and erecting the tomb of Henry VII and his wife, for which
that monarch had left very elaborate instructions. Paganino was chosen,
no doubt, on account of the fame of his tomb of Charles VIII at St.
Denis.[578] His design, however, was not to Henry VIII’s liking, so that
the commission was taken from him and given to Pietro Torrigiano of
Florence. In an estimate for the making of this tomb drawn up in 1509,
the names of the several artificers it was proposed to employ are
given.[579] Among them were Humphrey Walker, the founder, Nicholas Ewen,
the coppersmith and gilder, John Bell and John Maynard, the painters,
and Robert Vertue, Robert Jenyns, and John Lobons, the King’s three
master masons. In it Paganino is termed “Master Pageny.” Several of
these men were employed on the tomb later on under Torrigiano’s
directions.
[Sidenote: PAGANINO AND PIETRO TORRIGIANO]
Pietro Torrigiano, born in Florence in 1472, studied as a young man in
the academy founded by the elder Lorenzo de’ Medici, under Bertholdo,
where he broke Michelangelo’s nose in a quarrel, and was forced to fly
to Rome. There he was employed by Pope Alexander VI on stucco-work in
the Vatican. After an interlude spent in soldiering he returned to art,
and occupied himself in making small figures in bronze and marble,
which, together with numerous drawings and designs, he sold to
Florentine merchants, who probably sent some of them over to their
representatives in London. In a cause tried before the Council at the
Palace of Greenwich in 1518 between Pietro di Bardi and Bernardo
Cavalcanti, Torrigiano appeared as a witness, which shows that he was
closely connected with them, and it was, no doubt, upon their
recommendations that he was persuaded to come to England, possibly for
the very purpose of designing Henry VII’s tomb.[580] Vasari says that in
England “did Torrigiano receive so many rewards, and was so largely
remunerated that, had he not been a most violent, reckless, and
ill-conducted person, he might there have lived a life of ease, and
brought his days to a quiet close.”
The work on the tomb was begun in 1512, the date of the indenture
between Torrigiano and the King being 26th October of that year. He
appears to have been resident in the precinct of St. Peter’s,
Westminster, for some time before that date, making preparations and
engaging workmen, and also working on the beautiful monument to the Lady
Margaret Beaufort, Henry VII’s mother, who was buried in the Abbey on
the 30th June 1509. Other works of his in England include the fine
monument to Dr. John Younge, Master of the Rolls, in the Rolls Chapel,
erected about 1516-7, and perhaps the monument to Sir Thomas Lovell in
the priory of Holywell in Shoreditch. In such works as these Torrigiano
reached a very high pitch of excellence.
The tomb of Henry VII was finished in 1518, and so delighted Henry VIII,
that he at once commissioned the Italian to design one for himself and
Queen Katherine, of white marble and black touchstone, which was to be
one-fourth larger than the one just finished, and not to cost more than
£2000. It was to be placed in a separate chapel, adorned with frescoes,
and Torrigiano returned to Italy to engage competent workmen and artists
to assist him. “Benvenuto Cellini narrates that when he was about
eighteen years old, there came to Florence a sculptor named Piero
Torrigiani, who arrived from England, where he had resided many years.
Happening to see Cellini’s drawings, Torrigiano told him that he had
come to Florence to enlist as many young men as he could, for he had
undertaken a great work for the King, and wanted some of his own
Florentines to help him. As the work included a great piece of bronze,
he thought that Cellini would be useful for that purpose. Cellini, who
did not accept the offer, remarks on Torrigiano’s splendid person and
most arrogant spirit, and how he talked every day about his gallant
feats among those beasts of Englishmen.”[581]
Torrigiano returned to England in 1519 or 1520, bringing several Italian
artists with him, but for some reason—possibly a dispute—his contract
for Henry VIII’s tomb was never carried out. He thereupon left England
for Spain, where he is said to have gained a great reputation, but,
quarrelling with the Duke d’Arcos, to whom he had sold a statue of the
Virgin, he broke it to pieces with a hammer. This brought him within the
clutches of the Inquisition, and he is said, according to legend, to
have starved himself to death in prison in Seville in 1522, through rage
and grief. This story, however, appears to be largely imaginary.
[Sidenote: ANTONIO TOTO AND VINCENT VOLPE]
For the work on Henry VIII’s tomb in England he had enlisted the
services of a young painter called Antonio Toto del Nunziata, of
Florence, who, together with one Antonio di Piergiovanni di Lorenzo,
sculptor, of Settignano, made a contract with Torrigiano in September
1519, to work with him for four and a half years in France, Italy,
Flanders, England, Germany, or any other part of the world.[582] Toto
either stayed behind in London when his master went to Spain, or
returned to England from that country on Torrigiano’s death, and
remained in the King’s service for many years; but there is no record to
show what became of Antonio di Lorenzo. Before giving a short account of
Toto, a few words must be said of the Neapolitan, Vincent Volpe, who
appears to have been the first of the Italian painters regularly
employed by Henry VIII. Much of the work he undertook was of a
decorative character, of the same nature as that carried out by John
Browne, Andrew Wright, and other members of the Painter-Stainers’
Company.
Volpe was often engaged upon work for the royal navy. The first
reference to him in the State Papers occurs in the year 1512, in an
account for the painting of ships’ banners. Among the payments made was
one “to Mr. Domynyke Cyny, clerk, in reward for the use of Vincence of
Naples and Alexe of Myllen, painters, £6, 13_s._ 4_d._”[583] In April
1514 he was at work with John Browne and others on the royal ship _Henry
Grace à Dieu_, for which “Vincent Vulp, painter, by the King’s command,”
painted and made various streamers and banners, one with a dragon, one
with a lion, one with a greyhound, and so on.[584] In June of the
previous year he received £30 for similar work for seven ships, his name
being entered in the King’s Book of Payments as Vincent Woulpe.[585]
In June 1516, as Vincent Volpe, he appears to be definitely in the
King’s service, with a salary of £20 a year, paid quarterly.[586] Early
in 1518, his name occurs in some accounts as Vincent, the King’s
painter. He was sent to Antwerp apparently in connection with glass
designs for windows for the church or some building in Calais.[587] In
1520 he was employed at Guisnes with John Browne and others in the
decoration of the temporary buildings erected for the Field of the Cloth
of Gold.[588] He received £40 for work done or purchases made in
Antwerp, and twenty crowns (£4, 6_s._ 2_d._) for his costs in going
there. There is some uncertainty, however, about the date of these two
last accounts, and both may refer to the same journey. In May 1524 he
was employed in connection with the funeral of Sir Thomas Lovell, K.G.,
to make twenty-four small escutcheons in metal, “with my master’s arms
in the garter, to be set on the altars at the interment,” for which he
received 15_s._ For the same funeral, one John Wolffe, painter, was
employed for providing stuff, £33, 3_s._[589] The name Wolffe occurs
more than once in connection with painting ships. Very possibly Vincent
Volpe is intended, or this John may have been a relation.
[Sidenote: ALESSANDRO CARMILLIAN]
Volpe was also one of the many artists engaged in the decoration of the
Banqueting House at Greenwich for the reception of the French envoys in
1527, dealt with in Chapter xiv., upon which Holbein also was employed.
He appears, together with John Browne, to have provided various
materials and also to have done some of the painting, for which he
received a weekly wage, the entry running, “To Italian painters, Vincent
Vulp and Ellys Carmyan at 20_s._ the week.”[590] In the treasurer’s
accounts for quarter’s wages due at Christmas 1528 he is entered as
receiving 50_s._ a quarter, but this is apparently a mistake in
transcribing, for as early as 1516 he was getting a salary of £20 a
year, and in September 1529, the larger amount is again entered against
his name, to be paid quarterly. In May 1530 he received £15, 4_s._ 9_d._
for trimming the King’s new barge, and in December of the same year £3,
10_s._ “for paynting of a plat of Rye and Hastings”[591]—evidently a
bird’s-eye view showing the fortifications and defences, such as were
frequently made for the King. On New Year’s Day, 1532, he presented the
King with two long and two round targets.[592] He appears to have died
or to have left the country shortly after this. Mr. Nichols suggests
that it is “by no means improbable that Vincent Volpe may have been the
painter of some of those curious military pictures, something between
plans and bird’s-eye views, that are still to be seen on the walls of
Hampton Court”—the large painting of the “Field of the Cloth of Gold,”
the “Embarkation of Henry VIII from Dover,”[593] and others.
In the entry respecting Volpe quoted above, in connection with the
Banqueting House at Greenwich in 1527, he is coupled with another
Italian painter, “Ellys Carmyan.” The latter, who was in receipt of a
regular salary from the King, it has been customary to regard as a
woman, because the Christian name is entered in the accounts more than
once as Alice. Thus in December 1528,[594] the entry for quarter’s wages
is “Alice Carmillion, painter, 33_s._ 4_d._” The writer, however, is of
opinion that Carmillian was a man. At other times the name is given as
Alys, Ellys, Alye, and other variations, and the surname is spelt
Carmillion or Carmillian. This artist is more often described as a
“millyner” than as a painter. The payment quoted above immediately
precedes that of Volpe in the accounts, and the two painters were
usually employed together at this period. In the payments for ships’
banners in 1511,[595] Volpe is joined with one Alexe of Myllen, painter.
This Alessandro of Milan is evidently the same person as Ellys or Alys
Carmillian; the change from Alexe to Alys is an easy one, and Bryan
Tuke’s spelling of foreign names in his accounts is characterised by
remarkable variety. It is not likely that a woman would be employed upon
such work as the painting of a building; and the term “millyner” occurs
much more frequently in recording payments to men than to women in the
royal accounts. Mr. Digby Wyatt suggests that the name was Elisa
Carmillione, Milanesa, and that she was a Milanese miniaturist.[596] It
has been suggested, too, that this painter was a relative of Peter
Carmeliano, of Brescia, the poet, Latin secretary to Henry VII and one
of the King’s chaplains, who became lute player to Henry VIII.[597]
Carmillian was one of those who supplied materials for the work carried
out at Westminster Palace in 1532. One of the entries in connection with
this runs: “To Elys Carmenelle, of London, painter, for 200 Flemish
paving tiles, 30_s._”[598] On New Year’s Day 1529 he, or rather his
servant, received a reward of 10_s._ in return for his gift to the
King.[599] Carmillian’s salary was only £6, 13_s._ 4_d._ a year, paid
quarterly.[600]
Antonio Toto, who, as already noted, was brought over to England by
Torrigiano, was an artist of greater capabilities than Volpe and
Carmillian. He spent nearly forty years in England, and throughout the
whole of the time appears to have been in the royal service. He usually
worked in conjunction with another Italian painter, Bartolommeo Penni,
their names almost always appearing together in the Household Accounts.
Toto was the son of one Toto dell’ Nunziata, a painter of Florence of
some standing, a maker of “puppets,” and a great practical joker, as
Vasari relates. The son was a fellow-pupil with Perino del Vaga in
Ridolfo Ghirlandajo’s studio. Toto took part with his master in painting
a Madonna and Child in the church of San Pietro Scheraggio, a building
no longer in existence. Vasari says that he was taken to England by some
Florentine merchants, and there executed all his works, “and by the King
of that province, for whom he wrought in architecture (as well as in
sculpture and painting), and for whom he built his principal palace, was
most handsomely rewarded.”
The “principal palace” referred to by Vasari was evidently Nonsuch, near
Cheam, in Surrey, which was begun in 1538 by Henry VIII, who acquired
the site, previously called Cuddington, in that year. The original and
principal structure was of two storeys, the lower being of substantial
and well-wrought freestone, and the upper of wood, “richly adorned and
set forth, and garnished with a variety of statues, pictures (_i.e._
coloured figures in relief), and other artistic forms of excellent art
and workmanship, and of no small cost”—it is thus described in the
survey of the Parliamentary Commissioners in 1650.[601] This singular
building remained in good condition for more than a century, and was
described by both Evelyn and Pepys in 1665. The former says that the
plaster statues and basso-relievos “must needs have been the work of
some celebrated Italian.” Pepys speaks of the same features as “figures
of stories and good painting of Rubens or Holbein’s doing.” In the
earliest account of it, published in Braun’s _Urbium Præcipuarum Mundi
Theatrum Quintium_, in 1583, it is stated that Henry VIII “procured many
excellent artificers, architects, sculptors, and statuaries, as well
Italians, French, and Dutch as natives, who all applied to the ornament
of this mansion the finest and most curious skill they possessed in
their several arts, embellishing it within and without with magnificent
statues, some of which vividly represent the antiquities of Rome and
some surpass them.” A view of the palace by Joris Hoefnagel accompanied
this account, which gives an excellent idea of the building before the
additions were made to it by Lord Lumley.
If Vasari is to be believed, Toto was the chief architect of this
building; in any case, it may be taken for granted that he was one of
the leading Italians employed there. In the royal accounts he is always
spoken of as “paynter,” but the term included the makers of works in
coloured plaster, with which the exterior of Nonsuch was covered.
“Toto’s earliest education,” says Mr. Digby Wyatt, “had specially fitted
him for dealing with such an infinity of allegorical and quasi-pictorial
sculpture as that with which we shall find Nonsuch to have been adorned;
since his father, in whose ‘bottega’ he was first brought up, obtained
his nickname of ‘Nunziata’ from his annually furnishing all the quantity
of imagery with which the feast of the Annunciation was wont to be set
forth in a tangible shape at Florence.”[602]
[Sidenote: TOTO AND PENNI]
“Antony Toto and Barthilmewe Penne” first appear in the Household
Accounts in 1530, “upon several warrantes being dated the iiijth day of
June, anno xxij, for their wages, after the rate of xxv _li_ a year to
every of them, to be paid unto them quarterly, & during the Kinges
pleasure.”[603] Thus each received £25 a year, the payment for the two
being always entered in one account, £12, 10_s._ each quarter, and
22_s._ 6_d._ each annually for their livery coats. On one occasion the
scribe has confused them, and has entered them as “Anthony Pene and
Bartilmew Tate.”[604] There are some interesting items concerning Toto
in the Hampton Court Accounts,[605] from which we learn that in addition
to his work as an architect and decorator he was employed as a painter
of pictures. Thus, in 1530, there is an entry: “To Antonye Tote,
painter, for the painting of five tables standing in the King’s
library—First, one table of Joachim and St. Anne. Item, another table,
how Adam delved in the ground. Item, the third table, how Adam was
droven out of Paradise. Item, the fourth table, of the burying of our
Lord. Item, the fifth table, being the last table, of the burying of our
blessed Lady. The said Antonye taking for the said five tables, by a
bargain in great, £6, 13_s._ 4_d._” Toto was also a restorer of old
pictures, for on the same page is the following: “Item, to the said
Antonye for sundry colours by him employed and spent upon the old
painted tables in the King’s privy closet, 13_s._ 4_d._”; and again,
“also paid to Antoyne Tote, painter, for the painting of four great
tables—that is to say, one table of our [Lady] of Pity; another table of
the four Evangelists; the third of the Maundythe [the feet-washing on
Maundy Thursday?]. The fourth [title omitted]. The said Antonye taking
for the said tables, by a bargain with him made, by great, 20_l._ soll.”
These entries show that painters at Henry’s Court received separate
payment for pictures and other special works, and that their salaries
were in the nature of retaining fees. They also received a daily wage
when engaged on work of some duration, as can be gathered from several
quotations from the accounts already given. In 1530 Toto was engaged in
this way at one shilling a day, and with him were associated Philyp
Arkeman (10_d._), Lewes Williams (9_d._), and John Devynk (3_d._). The
work consisted of “new painting and gilding certain antique heads
brought from Greenwich to Hanworth at the King’s commandment, and new
garnishing of the same.” In June 1532 he was employed upon a similar
job: “Also paid to Anthony Tote and John De la Mayn, the King’s
painters, for their wages, coming from London to Hanworth for to see the
finishing and setting up of certain antique heads new painted and
gilded, either of them by the space of three days at xii_d._ the day,
for themselves and their horses.”[606] These were the terra-cotta
roundels modelled by Giovanni da Maiano, the John De la Mayn of the
accounts, which appear to have been painted and gilded by Toto.
[Sidenote: ANTONIO TOTO, SERJEANT-PAINTER]
On 15th January 1532 he received a special sum of £20 by the King’s
commandment, for some service not mentioned.[607] He became a
naturalised Englishman in 1538, his patent of denization being dated
26th June in that year. In it he is described as a native of Florence,
in the Emperor’s dominions.[608] In the same year he was employed by
Cromwell on some work at Havering, for which he was paid 51_s._ 1_d._ on
26th May.[609] On the 28th November 1538 he and his wife Helen received
a grant in survivorship of two cottages and land in Mycheham (Mitcham),
near Nonsuch, which was to be held by payment of a red rose at St. John
Baptist’s Day annually.[610] On the following New Year’s Day he
presented the King with a “depicted table of Calomia” (the Calumny of
Apelles)[611]; and on the 1st of January 1541 a “table of the story of
King Alexander.”[612] On the 14th of April 1541 he obtained a licence to
import 600 tuns of beer,[613] and on the 2nd December 1542 he received a
lease of the manor of Ravesbury, in Surrey, which belonged to Sir
Nicholas Carew, attainted, for forty years, at £42, 6_s._ 8_d._
rental.[614]
Toto succeeded Andrew Wright as the King’s serjeant-painter in 1543, and
he continued to hold the same position throughout the reign of Edward
VI, and in that capacity he provided the tabards for the heralds, and at
the coronation of Edward furnished all materials required by the
College, whether in satin, damask, or sarcenet, for Kings, Heralds, and
Pursuivants. He also devised patterns and painted the properties for the
court masques. Thus, at Shrovetide 1548, he received 20_s._ as a reward
for his pains in drawing patrons (patterns) for the masks, and a similar
amount a year or two later for attending the Revels and drawing and
devising for painters and others. In 1550 he supplied “antique moulded
heads” for a temporary banqueting house, and in 1552 he was employed in
preparing properties for a masque on the State of Ireland, and received
4_s._ for painting an Irish halberd, sword, and dagger, and a coat and
cap with eyes, tongues, and ears for Fame.[615] On New Year’s Day 1552
he presented King Edward with “the phismanye of the Duke of —— (name
obliterated), steyned upon cloth of silver, in a frame of woode,” for
which he received in return a gilt salt with cover weighing a little
over nine ounces. He was still serjeant-painter at the death of Edward
VI, and for the King’s funeral had an allowance of seven yards of black
cloth, with three more for his servant.[616] It is to be supposed that
the numerous pictures Toto presented to Henry VIII and his son were of
his own painting, though there is no actual proof of this; his chief
works in England appear to have been architectural and decorative.
His fellow-worker, Bartolommeo Penni, another Florentine, may possibly
have come with him to England in 1519. He was, in any case, settled in
London and in the service of the King in the summer of 1522, for in a
valuation of the lands and goods of the inhabitants of London of that
date, he is entered in the parish of St. Martin Orgar as “Bartholomew
Penny, stranger, in fees of the King yearly, £25.”[617] Penni may
possibly have been a brother of Gian Francesco Penni, called Il Fattore,
one of Raphael’s pupils, and of Luca Penni.[618] The latter was at work
for some years at Fontainebleau under Rosso, and, according to Vasari,
afterwards repaired to England; but there appears to be no foundation
for this statement, Vasari having probably confused him with
Bartolommeo.[619] In the royal accounts his name is always coupled with
that of Toto when his quarterly salary is paid, but otherwise there is
no record of him, except his patent of denization, dated 2nd October
1541, in which he is described as a subject of the Duke of
Florence.[620] For some reason Penni did not sue for the letters patent
for more than a year later, when the King’s style and great seal had
been altered, so that by the Lord Chancellor’s command they were not to
bear date until the 28th January 1543, and a fine of 13_s._ 4_d._ was
inflicted. Beyond this, nothing is known about him, but the work he
undertook for the Crown must have been of a similar nature to that done
by Toto.
[Sidenote: ROVEZZANO, MAIANO, AND BELLIN]
Two Florentine sculptors of note, Benedetto da Rovezzano and Giovanni da
Maiano, were at work here throughout the whole of Holbein’s sojourn in
England. It is probable that they were brought over by Wolsey on purpose
to work on the great tomb and monument he was erecting for himself in
the tomb-house at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, and after Wolsey’s fall,
when Henry VIII seized upon the materials and such of the work as had
been finished and proceeded to adapt it for a tomb of his own, the two
sculptors were retained in the King’s service, though Benedetto, at
least, was anxious to return to Florence before Wolsey’s downfall. Their
names occur constantly in the royal accounts. Rovezzano is sometimes
entered as “Benedict, the King’s tomb-maker.” Giovanni da Maiano was a
noted worker in terra-cotta, and Wolsey employed him on such work at
Hampton Court. On the 18th June 1521 he rendered an account to Wolsey
for ten roundels of terra-cotta (_rotundæ imagines ex terra depictæ_) at
£2, 6_s._ 8_d._ each, and three histories of Hercules at £4 each, “for
the Palace at Anton Cort.”[621] These were the roundels already spoken
of in connection with Toto. Maiano was one of the artists associated
with Holbein in the decoration of the Greenwich Banqueting House, in the
accounts of which he is entered as John Demyans. He was in the royal
service, and received a salary of £20, being entered in October 1528 as
“John Demayns, gravour.”[622] In 1526 his name occurs in the accounts of
Thomas, Lord Rocheford. “To Mane, the painter, for making the pattern of
your seal of arms, 3_s._ 4_d._,” and it was as a seal-engraver that he
was largely engaged at the Court. In Cromwell’s accounts the two
sculptors are sometimes entered as Benedict Rovesham or Rovesame and
John de Manion or Manino. Their work on Henry’s tomb appears to have
gone on until 1536, when the project was abandoned for a time. Both men
seem to have left England shortly afterwards.
Nicolas Bellin of Modena was one of the most prominent of the Italian
artists engaged at the English Court during the latter half of Holbein’s
residence in England. Mr. Lionel Cust[623] suggests that “the similarity
of name would lead to a possible identification of this Niccolo with
Niccolo dell’ Abbate da Modena, who arrived in France after the
accession of Henri II, and took an important share in the decorative
paintings at Fontainebleau, where he died in 1571”; but the latter, who,
as a painter, was by far the more important artist of the two, did not
reach France from Italy until 1552, whereas Bellin had been in the
employment of Francis I as early as 1517.[624]
Bellin was a designer and worker in plaster. He is called in the English
accounts both “carver” and “moulder,” as well as “paynter.” His name
appears in the French royal accounts between 1517 and 1533, and M.
Dimier infers from lack of any later reference to his name, that he died
shortly after the latter date; but he had, in reality, moved over to
England. He took a considerable share in the decoration of
Fontainebleau, where he worked under Primaticcio, and perhaps under
Rosso, upon the ornamental borders and decorations in plaster and stucco
with which the various wall-paintings were surrounded. “All visitors to
Fontainebleau,” says M. Dimier,[625] “carry away a recollection of the
extraordinary mixture of painting and sculptured ornament displayed in
the gallery. The high relief and the abundance of the stucco, which hems
in the pictures on all sides and in places even overlaps their edges,
make a unique and inspiring effect, in which the balance of the two arts
would have been disturbed if Rosso had not scattered among the stuccos
little cartouches of painting and placed grounds of gold behind them
charged with paintings in varied colours.” This was the kind of work
upon which Bellin was employed in France, as can be gathered from the
following entry in the “Account of Nicolas Picart,” which was lot 466 in
the sale of the late Sir Thomas Phillips’ collections, 1903: “A Nicolas
Bellin dit Modène, painctre, la somme de cent livres tournois ... pour
cinq mois entiers qu’il avoit vacqué et besongné avec Francisque de
Primadicis dit de Boullongne, aussi painctre, es ouvraiges de stucq et
paincture encommancez à faire pour le roy nostre dit seigneur, en sa
chambre de la grosse tour de son chasteau au dit Fontainebleau, à 20
livres par mois.”[626]
[Sidenote: NICOLAS BELLIN OF MODENA]
By 1538 he was already in the service of the King of England, for in
December in that year he received a quarter’s wages, on a warrant dated
on the previous 21st April, at the rate of £10 a year, and 20_s._ a year
for his livery.[627] He is styled Nic. (Nicolas) de Modecio, but in the
following March (1539) he appears as Nicholas de Modena.[628] Bellin did
not come to England entirely of his own free will. He was, in fact,
obliged to fly from France, and the King and his ministers made every
effort to get him back again. Francis I wrote to Marillac, his
ambassador in London, on 10th September 1540,[629] drawing his attention
to the fact that some time earlier he had demanded “a subject and
servant named Modena, who should be confronted with the president
Gentils (also spelt Gentilz and Jentill) upon certain malversions he had
made, but he has not been sent,” and Marillac is ordered to make lively
remonstrances thereupon. From the ambassador’s reply,[630] of a week
later, it is to be gathered that Modena, who is described as one of the
accomplices of the President Gentilz, had been delivered by Henry’s
Council, in the spring of 1538, to the Bishop of Tarbes, then
representing Francis in London, but had not been permitted to be sent to
France, “as he was a native of Italy, although of Milan, which, they
knew, belonged to Francis.” Marillac is afraid that the same reasons
will again be alleged against his extradition, and in writing to
Montmorency, the Grand Constable, on the same date,[631] says that he
will make representations to the King’s Council touching Modena, “about
whom they are sure to make difficulty, as he is an Italian.” Sir John
Wallop, the English ambassador to France, also wrote about the matter to
Henry VIII, informing him that Modena was wanted “about an account of
100,000 crowns of which President Jentill beguiled the King.”[632] Henry
in his answer said, “as for Modena, he (Francis) never demanded him as a
traitor according to the treaty, yet Henry gave him up to the French
ambassador (the Bishop of Tarbes) at his request, and the latter
afterwards put him at liberty.”[633] The Council wrote to the same
effect, saying, “the King is not bound to deliver him, as he is not a
French subject, but born in the duchy of Milan, being in the Emperor’s
hands. And the King said that when the French King should be Duke of
Milan he would be ready to observe the treaties.”[634] In a final letter
to Francis on 21st October 1540, Marillac calls Modena a “painter and
sculptor,” and says that “the King said he would not speak of Modena
until justice had been done in his own case” (_i.e._ the detention in
France of Blanche Rose).[635] A further interesting reference to Modena
is to be found in a long letter from Wallop to Henry VIII, written from
Melun on 17th November 1540, in which he describes a visit to
Fontainebleau and an interview with Francis.[636] The letter also shows
how keen an interest the two kings took in one another’s building
operations, and their willingness to assist one another with materials
and designs. Francis asked Wallop many questions about Hampton Court,
and said that he had heard that Henry used much gilding in his houses,
especially in the roofs, but for his part he preferred natural wood, “as
ebony, brasell, &c., which was more durable; he would show me
Fontainebleau, especially his gallery there. He has found mines of
marble nigh the sea-side, white at Marguyson, and black at Sherbroke
(Cherbourg), and you might have some for nothing if you liked to send
for it; also divers moulds of antique personnages that he hath now
coming out of Italy, with which he shall have done within three or four
months.” Wallop then describes a visit to “Fountayne de Bleawe” on the
following Sunday, when the King showed him the “antycall borders” in his
bedchamber, helping him to mount a bench that was too high for him, in
order that he might examine them more closely. Francis afterwards showed
him the Gallery, which Wallop describes, and refers Henry to “_Modon,
who wrought there at the beginning_,” for details. One side of the
gallery, he says, “is all antique of suche stuff as the said Modon
makith your Majesties chemenyes.”[637] Such things, he adds, would suit
the gallery at St. James’s, and the French King would gladly give the
pattern.
By a warrant of 14th January 1540[638] the wages of “Nicholas de Modeno”
were increased to £20 a year, and on 3rd October 1541 he received a
patent of denization, with licence to have two apprentices and four
journeymen or “covenant servants,” in which he is described as “Nic.
Bellin, a native of the city of Modena, in Italy, in the dominions of
the Duke of Ferrara.”[639] According to Mr. Nichols,[640] on New Year’s
Day 1534, among the royal rewards was one “to Nicolas Modena, that
brought the King a story of Abraham,” 6_s._ 8_d._ (_i.e._ to his
servant). This is not given in the abstract in the State Papers, but, if
correct, would seem to prove that Modena was in England some years
before he was regularly employed in the royal service, and earlier than
the letters with reference to his extradition suggest. The last year in
which he is mentioned in the French accounts is 1533, which agrees with
a possible arrival in England towards the end of that year, when he
might seek to draw attention to his abilities by presenting a picture to
the King. There appears, however, to be no further reference to him
until 1538.
[Sidenote: NICOLAS BELLIN OF MODENA]
In the autumn of 1546 he was engaged upon work for some Revels at
Hampton Court, arranged for the entertainment of the Admiral of France,
for which he received £15. “Nich’as Modena, paynt’, for garments of here
(hair) upon lether, for wildme’, to s’ve for torcheberers, w^{th} thayr
hed peces, staves, and clubbes, taken in great for all, 15_li._”[641]
These wildmen were satyrs or savage green-men, so much in vogue in mimic
entertainments of this period. Modena was also engaged in freshening up
and altering a certain Mount, used in some Revels for the Coronation
festivities of Edward VI, this mount being probably the same apparatus
for a pageant which had been employed some forty years before, in the
reign of Henry VIII, and had been laid up in the store of the Master of
the Revels as a valuable piece of machinery. The entry runs:[642] “To
Nych’as Modena, stranger, for as well his owne wages and 22 other
carvers’ wages, workeing upon the mouldyd w’ke appertayning to the
mount, as also for clay, plaster parys, sewett, whyte paper, flower,
glewe, syes, wax, here, colis (coals) for drying, with other
necessaries.” It will be noticed that he is still termed stranger,
though possessed of a patent of denization.
In the following year, at Shrovetide 1548, he is termed
“moulder”—“Nicholas Modena, moulder, for 6 heads of heres (hair) for
masks a’ 10_s._, 60_s._; trimming, color^g, and lyning 16 vysowres, at
12_d._, 16_s._”[643] In the roll of New Year’s gifts 1552, received by
the King, is an entry showing that he presented a picture. “By Modeno a
feire picture paynted of the Frenche King his hoole personage, sett in a
frame of wodde,” and there was given in return “To Modeno, an Italian,
oone guilte salte with a cover,” weighing x oz. iij qrt’ di.” Another
picture by him, the portrait of a boy, was in the Arundel Collection,
and is entered in the 1655 inventory as “Ritratto d’un fanciullo,” by
“Nicolo da Modena.”
At the funeral of King Edward VI, “Modena, maker of the King’s picture,”
received four yards of black cloth, and he is mentioned again as
“Nicholas Modena, kerver, four yards.” The “King’s picture” referred to
in this extract was not a painting, but the coloured effigy carried and
displayed on the King’s coffin, as was the usual custom. Machyn, in his
Diary, in his account of the same funeral, uses the term “picture” for
the effigy—“then the chariot covered with cloth of gold, and on the
chariot lay a picture, lying richly with a crown of gold, and a great
collar, and a sceptre in his hand, lying in his robes, and the garter
about his leg, and a coat in embroidery in gold.”[644] Modena’s share in
this effigy would be the modelling of the head in the likeness of the
King. Sir George Scharf[645] suggested that the very beautiful little
whole-length figure of Henry VIII, carved in buff honestone, belonging
to Mr. H. Dent-Brocklehurst, last exhibited at the Burlington Fine Arts
Club in 1909 (Case A, No. 28), was the work of Nicolas Modena. It was
apparently founded on Holbein’s Whitehall painting of the King. “It has
evidently been painted, as traces of blue and crimson on the dress still
remain in some of the hollows.” Sir George drew attention to the
similarity of this exquisite piece of work, in its wooden frame, to
Modena’s gift to Edward VI of the fair painted picture of the French
king, whole length, set in a frame of wood, mentioned above.
[Sidenote: GIROLAMO PENNACCHI DA TREVISO]
Another Italian painter of considerable distinction who was in England
during the latter part of Henry’s reign, was Girolamo Pennacchi da
Treviso, son and pupil of Piermaria Pennacchi, born at Treviso in 1497,
an imitator of Raphael, who worked chiefly at Bologna, Venice, and
Genoa, and, so Vasari relates, came to England mainly on account of his
unsuccessful rivalry with Perino del Vaga.[646] According to the same
authority he was a good portrait-painter, and in England received
encouragement and patronage from the King. “In his service he exercised
his talents as architect and engineer. He erected buildings in the
Italian style which delighted and surprised the King beyond measure, who
constantly loaded him with gifts, and assigned him a stipend of 400
scudi a year, giving him leave also to build himself a handsome house at
the King’s own expense. Girolamo lived most happily, and in the utmost
content, thanking God and his good fortune for having placed him in a
country where his merits were so well appreciated. But this unusual
happiness did not last long; he went in his capacity of engineer to
inspect the fortifications of Boulogne, during the siege, where a
cannon-ball struck him lifeless off his horse. He thus died in 1544, at
the early age of thirty-six.”[647] He painted chiefly in fresco, so that
little of his work remains. There is an important example of his art in
the National Gallery, No. 623, an altar-piece painted for the Boccaferi
Chapel in the Church of San Domenico at Bologna, representing the Virgin
and Child enthroned, with SS. Joseph, James, and Paul, which was
formerly in the Solly and Northwick collections. There is no other work
in this country which can be pointed out as being with any certainty
from his brush, but Sir George Scharf was of opinion that the striking
full-length portrait of Sir Thomas Gresham at the age of twenty-six,
dated 1544, in Mercer’s Hall, is, by its superior merit and its
accordance in many respects with the style of Girolamo, in all
probability by that painter, and also the portrait of the Earl of Surrey
at Knole, attributed to Guillim or Gillam Stretes. The portrait of Sir
Anthony Wingfield, lent by Mr. T. Humphry Ward to the Burlington Fine
Arts Club Exhibition in 1909 (No. 56, attributed to Holbein), is also
suggested, by the compilers of the catalogue, as a possible work of the
same artist. He is generally referred to in the royal accounts as
“Hierome Trevix Bollonia” or “Jeronimo Italion,” and received a salary
of £25 a quarter. It may be inferred from Vasari’s statement as to his
erecting buildings in the Italian style, that he was employed at
Nonsuch.
In addition to these more important artists and craftsmen, a number of
minor painters, native and foreign, were at work in England during
Henry’s and the succeeding reigns, such as Nicholas Lyzarde, John Crust,
John Simson, and the three members of the Bernardi family—Theodore,
Lambert, and Anthony; but little or nothing is known about them beyond
their names, and they need no comment here. With some of the more
important men dealt with in this chapter Holbein must often have come in
contact, and with certain of the Netherlanders, such as the Hornebolts,
he seems to have been on terms of friendship.
NOTE.—Much of the information given in this chapter about the
foreign artists who practised in England under Henry VIII is the
result of a long and careful examination, on the part of the
writer, of the _Calendars of Letters and Papers, Foreign and
Domestic, of the Reign of Henry VIII._ Since the final proofs of
the chapter were passed for printing, his attention has been
called to a very interesting paper on “The Italian Artists in
England during the Sixteenth Century,” read by Mr. R. W. Carden
before the members of the Society of Antiquaries on 28th March
1912, and published in the Society’s _Proceedings_, second
series, vol. xxiv. (1911-12), pp. 171-204, issued early in 1913.
In this paper, more particularly that part of it dealing with
Bellin of Modena, Mr. Carden covers much the same ground as the
present writer, and his information is based on a similar study
of the _Letters_, &c. He gives, however, further new and
valuable details of the work and lives of Torrigiano, Toto,
Rovezzano, Maiano, and Bellin, and strives to prove that the
latter and Niccolo dell’ Abbate were one and the same man. He
also shows that Bellin, in 1551, was engaged upon the completion
of Henry VIII’s tomb, and that he was then living within the
precinct of Westminster Abbey, as Torrigiano did before him.
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