path: root/64208-0.txt

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 64208 ***

                        HANS HOLBEIN THE YOUNGER




------------------------------------------------------------------------

                         VOL. I., FRONTISPIECE


[Illustration:

  HANS HOLBEIN

  Self-Portrait

  Drawing in Indian ink and coloured chalks, washed with water-colour

  BASEL GALLERY
]


------------------------------------------------------------------------


                              HANS HOLBEIN

                              THE YOUNGER



                                   BY

                         ARTHUR B. CHAMBERLAIN

      ASSISTANT KEEPER OF THE CORPORATION ART GALLERY, BIRMINGHAM




             WITH 252 ILLUSTRATIONS, INCLUDING 24 IN COLOUR




                             IN TWO VOLUMES

                                 VOL. I




                                NEW YORK
                         DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY
                                  1913


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                  Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
                   at the Ballantyne Press, Edinburgh




------------------------------------------------------------------------




                               TO MY WIFE




------------------------------------------------------------------------




                                PREFACE


IN this book the writer has endeavoured to give as complete an account
as possible of the life and career of the younger Holbein, together with
a description of every known picture painted by him, and of the more
important of his drawings and designs. The earlier books devoted to the
subject—such as Wornum’s _Life and Works_, 1867, and Dr. Woltmann’s two
volumes—although they must always remain of the utmost help to the
student, are now in some respects out of date. The second edition of the
latter’s great work, in which he modified and corrected many passages in
the earlier issue, has never been fully translated into English; while
the latest book of importance on the subject published in this country,
_Hans Holbein the Younger_, by Mr. Gerald S. Davies, M.A., 1903, is
mainly devoted to the art of the painter, and does not profess to give
complete biographical details of his life. In recent years many new
facts as to Holbein’s career have been discovered, and fresh pictures by
him unearthed, while modern criticism has reversed some of the earlier
conclusions respecting the authorship of a certain number of works at
one time attributed to him. Much valuable information upon the subject
has been published at home and abroad, largely in periodicals devoted to
such matters and in the transactions of artistic and learned societies,
by various well-known students of the master in Germany and Switzerland,
chief among whom must be mentioned Dr. Paul Ganz, the director of the
Public Picture Collection in Basel, now recognised as the leading
authority on Holbein, together with Dr. Hans Koegler, Dr. Emil Major, H.
A. Schmid, and other writers too numerous to mention here; while in
England equally valuable contributions to our knowledge have been made
from time to time by such critics as Mr. Lionel Cust, M.V.O., Sir Sidney
Colvin, Mr. Campbell Dodgson, Sir Claude Phillips, Miss Mary F. S.
Hervey, and a number of others, in the pages of the _Burlington
Magazine_ and elsewhere. Much valuable information is also to be found
in two recently-published volumes—Dr. Curt Glaser’s _Hans Holbein der
Ältere_, 1908, and Dr. Willy Hes’ _Ambrosius Holbein_, 1911.

The writer has availed himself as fully as possible of the newer facts
and conclusions embodied in such papers and communications, the source
of information in all cases being fully acknowledged. A very careful
study of the Calendars of Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, of
the Reign of Henry VIII, extending over a number of years, has enabled
him to add some fresh items of information about the painter and certain
of his sitters, and of several of the artists who were his
contemporaries in England. He has dealt at some length, though
necessarily in a condensed form, with the chief painters and craftsmen,
both English and foreign, who were at work in London under Henry VIII,
much of the information thus brought together having been hitherto
scattered about in a variety of publications not always conveniently
accessible to the student. He thus hopes that the book will to some
extent serve the purpose for which it is primarily intended—the
provision, in as concise a form as possible, of a complete biography of
the painter, embodying all the more recent discoveries; and he trusts
that it may be of some small service to those who are interested in
Holbein, but have neither the time nor the opportunity to avail
themselves of the many scattered sources of information which he has
attempted to bring together within the covers of a single book.

By the gracious permission of His Majesty the King, the writer has been
allowed to include among the illustrations, reproductions, in some
instances in colour, of a number of pictures and drawings by Holbein in
the royal collections; and he has to thank the Lord Chamberlain and Mr.
Lionel Cust, M.V.O., Surveyor of the King’s Pictures, for the kind
assistance they rendered him in obtaining such permission. He has also
to express his grateful acknowledgments to a number of owners and
collectors for similar permission to reproduce works by the master in
their possession, among them Her Majesty the Queen of Holland, who has
graciously allowed the inclusion of the beautiful miniature of an
Unknown Youth; the Duke of Devonshire, G.C.V.O.; Earl Spencer, G.C.V.O.;
the Earl of Radnor; Lord Leconfield; the Earl of Yarborough; Sir John
Ramsden, Bt.; Sir Hugh P. Lane; the late Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan; Major
Charles Palmer; and the Barber-Surgeons’ Company. Special thanks are due
to Lord St. Oswald for permitting the large “More Family Group” at
Nostell Priory to be photographed for the purposes of this book, and for
allowing the writer to take notes from a very interesting manuscript
containing a description of the various versions of the Family picture
compiled by his grandfather, Mr. Charles Winn. He has also to record his
great indebtedness to Mr. Ayerst H. Buttery for giving him the privilege
of reproducing the recently discovered portrait of an Unknown English
Lady, formerly in the possession of the Bodenham family at Rotherwas,
near Hereford. His thanks also are due to Senhor José de Figueiredo,
director of the National Museum of Ancient Art, Lisbon, for permission
to include the elder Holbein’s “Fountain of Life” among the
illustrations, as well as to the directors of a number of galleries and
museums, including the Public Picture Collection, Basel; the National
Gallery, British Museum, and Wallace Collection; the Kaiser Friedrich
Museum, Berlin; the Imperial Gallery, Vienna; the Louvre, Paris; the
Royal Picture Gallery, The Hague; the Metropolitan Museum of New York;
the Royal Hermitage Gallery, St. Petersburg; and the Galleries of
Dresden, Munich, Hanover, Rome, Florence, Solothurn, and elsewhere.

In addition, he has the pleasure of recording his great indebtedness to
Mr. Lionel Cust, M.V.O., for kind assistance and advice; to Mr. Maurice
W. Brockwell, for much valuable help in many directions; to Mr. Campbell
Dodgson, who was good enough to assist in the selection of woodcuts from
the British Museum Collection for the purposes of reproduction; to Dr.
George C. Williamson, through whose kindness the writer has been able to
make use of his Catalogue of the late Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan’s
Collection of Miniatures; to the Editors of the _Burlington Magazine of
Fine Arts_ for permission to include the writer’s paper on Holbein’s
visit to “High Burgony”; to Mr. James Melville for transcribing from the
Balcarres MSS. a long letter from the Duchess of Guise referring to that
visit; to Herr F. Engel-Gros for information about the interesting
roundel in his possession, which possibly represents the painter Lucas
Hornebolt; and to Dr. James H. W. Laing, of Dundee, to whom he is deeply
indebted for most generously undertaking the very onerous task of
reading the whole of the proofs. He wishes also to offer his grateful
thanks to his publishers, and in particular to Mr. Hugh Allen, for the
great care and trouble they have spent upon the book, and for their
hearty co-operation in attempting to make it as complete a record as
possible of the great master to whom it is devoted.

                                                                A. B. C.

BIRMINGHAM, _August 1913._


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                                CONTENTS


          CHAP.                                            PAGE

             I. HANS HOLBEIN THE ELDER AND HIS FAMILY         1

            II. YOUTHFUL DAYS IN AUGSBURG                    23

           III. FIRST YEARS IN SWITZERLAND                   32

            IV. WORK IN LUCERNE AND THE VISIT TO             57
                  LOMBARDY

             V. CITIZEN OF BASEL                             82

            VI. THE HOUSE OF THE DANCE AND THE              116
                  WALL-PAINTINGS IN THE BASEL TOWN HALL

           VII. DESIGNS FOR PAINTED GLASS AND OTHER         135
                  STUDIES

          VIII. PORTRAITS OF ERASMUS AND HIS CIRCLE         162

            IX. DESIGNS FOR BOOK ILLUSTRATIONS              187

             X. THE “DANCE OF DEATH” AND OLD TESTAMENT      204
                  WOODCUTS

            XI. THE MEYER MADONNA AND THE DEPARTURE FOR     232
                  ENGLAND

           XII. NATIVE AND FOREIGN ARTISTS IN ENGLAND       256
                  DURING THE REIGN OF HENRY VIII

          XIII. THE FIRST VISIT TO ENGLAND: PORTRAITS OF    288
                  THE MORE FAMILY

           XIV. THE FIRST VISIT TO ENGLAND: OTHER           311
                  PORTRAITS AND DECORATIVE WORK

            XV. THE RETURN TO BASEL (1528-1532)             338


         POSTSCRIPT TO CHAPTER XIV. A NEWLY-DISCOVERED     353
           PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN ENGLISH LADY

         FOOTNOTES FOR ALL CHAPTERS                        359


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                             ILLUSTRATIONS


              HANS HOLBEIN: SELF-PORTRAIT              _Frontispiece_

              Reproduced in colour.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

           1. THE BAPTISM OF ST. PAUL                      11

              Left-hand panel of the “Basilica of St.
                Paul” altar-piece. By HANS HOLBEIN THE
                ELDER.

              _Museum, Augsburg._

           2. THE ST. SEBASTIAN ALTAR-PIECE                15

              Central panel. By HANS HOLBEIN THE
                ELDER.

              _Alte Pinakothek, Munich._

           3. (1) ST. BARBARA. (2) ST. ELIZABETH           16

              Inner sides of the wings of the “St.
                Sebastian” altar-piece. By HANS
                HOLBEIN THE ELDER.

              _Alte Pinakothek, Munich._

           4. THE FOUNTAIN OF LIFE                         17

              By HANS HOLBEIN THE ELDER.

              _National Museum of Ancient Art,
                Lisbon._ Reproduced by kind permission
                of the Director, Senhor José de
                Figueiredo.

           5. STUDY FOR THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY OF          21
                AUGSBURG

              Silver-point drawing. By HANS HOLBEIN
                THE ELDER.

              _British Museum._

           6. AMBROSIUS AND HANS HOLBEIN                   25

              Silver-point drawing. By HANS HOLBEIN
                THE ELDER (1511).

              _Royal Print Room, Berlin._

           7. VIRGIN AND CHILD (1514)                      33

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

           8. (1) HEAD OF THE VIRGIN MARY. (2) HEAD OF     37
                ST. JOHN

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

           9. THE LAST SUPPER                              40

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          10. THE SCOURGING OF CHRIST                      41

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          11. HOLBEIN’S EARLIEST TITLE-PAGE                45

              First used in 1515.

              _From a copy of More’s “Utopia” in the
                British Museum._

          12. MARGINAL DRAWINGS IN A COPY OF THE           48
                “PRAISE OF FOLLY”

              (1) FOLLY LEAVING THE PULPIT.

              (2) PENELOPE AT HER LOOM.

              (3) THE POPE.

              (4) THE CARDINAL.

              (5) THE BISHOP.

              (6) NUNS KNEELING BEFORE AN ALTAR-PIECE.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          13. MARGINAL DRAWINGS IN A COPY OF THE           49
                “PRAISE OF FOLLY”

              (1) THE BASKET OF EGGS.

              (2) NICOLAS DE LYRA.

              (3) KING SOLOMON.

              (4) YOUNG NOBLEMAN.

              (5) FOLLY AND HIS PUPPET.

              (6) ERASMUS AT HIS DESK.

              (7) “A FAT AND SPLENDID PIG FROM THE
                HERD OF EPICURUS.”

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          14. THE TWO SIDES OF A SCHOOLMASTER’S            51
                SIGN-BOARD (1516)

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          15. DOUBLE PORTRAIT OF JAKOB MEYER AND HIS       52
                WIFE, DOROTHEA KANNENGIESSER (1516)

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          16. (1) HEAD OF JAKOB MEYER. (2) HEAD OF         55
                DOROTHEA KANNENGIESSER

              Drawings in black and coloured chalks.
                Studies for the double portrait of
                1516.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          17. ADAM AND EVE (1517)                          56

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          18. PORTRAITS OF TWO BOYS                        60

              By AMBROSIUS HOLBEIN.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          19. STUDY OF A YOUNG GIRL NAMED “ANNE”           61
                (1518)

              Silver-point and red chalk drawing. By
                AMBROSIUS HOLBEIN.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          20. THE FOUNDING OF BASEL                        61

              Design for painted glass. By AMBROSIUS
                HOLBEIN.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          21. PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN YOUNG MAN (1518)      61

              By AMBROSIUS HOLBEIN.

              _Royal Hermitage Gallery, St.
                Petersburg._

          22. ILLUSTRATION TO SIR THOMAS MORE’S            62
                “UTOPIA”

              By AMBROSIUS HOLBEIN.

              _From a woodcut in the British Museum._

          23. DESIGNS FOR THE WALL-PAINTINGS OF THE        68
                HERTENSTEIN HOUSE, LUCERNE

              (1) LEÆNA AND THE JUDGES.

              (2) ARCHITECTURAL DECORATION OF THE
                GROUND FLOOR.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          24. PORTRAIT OF BENEDIKT VON HERTENSTEIN         72
                (1517)

              _Metropolitan Museum, New York._

          25. THE LAST SUPPER                              75

              Central panel of a Triptych.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          26. THE ARCHANGEL MICHAEL AS WEIGHER OF          79
                SOULS

              Drawing.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          27. MINERS AT WORK                               80

              Drawing in Indian ink, pen, and bistre.

              _British Museum._

          28. BONIFACIUS AMERBACH (1519)                   85

              Reproduced in colour.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          29. (1) ADORATION OF THE SHEPHERDS. (2)          88
                ADORATION OF THE KINGS

              Inner sides of the wings of the Oberried
                altar-piece.

              _University Chapel, Freiburg Minster._

          30. THE PASSION OF CHRIST                        91

              Outer sides of the wings of an
                altar-piece.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          31. (1) CHRIST BEARING THE CROSS. (2) THE        94
                CRUCIFIXION

              Details of the outer sides of the wings
                of the “Passion” Altar-piece.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          32. “NOLI ME TANGERE”                            95

              Christ appearing to Mary Magdalen.
                Reproduced by gracious permission of
                H.M. the King.

              _Hampton Court Palace._

          33. (1) CHRIST, THE MAN OF SORROWS. (2)          98
                MARY, MATER DOLOROSA

              Diptych, painted in brown monochrome,
                with blue sky.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          34. THE HOLY FAMILY                              99

              Washed drawing on a red ground.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          35. THE DEAD CHRIST IN THE TOMB (1521)          101

              Predella of an altar-piece.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          36. THE VIRGIN AND CHILD, WITH ST. URSUS AND    103
                A HOLY BISHOP (1522)

              _Solothurn Gallery._

          37. PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG WOMAN, POSSIBLY         106
                HOLBEIN’S WIFE

              Reproduced in colour.

              _Royal Picture Gallery, Mauritshuis, The
                Hague._

          38. HEAD OF A YOUNG WOMAN, PROBABLY             108
                HOLBEIN’S WIFE

              Study for the Solothurn “Madonna.”
                Silver-point drawing, touched with
                red.

              _Louvre, Paris._

          39. DESIGN FOR THE ORGAN-CASE DOORS, BASEL      113
                CATHEDRAL

              Pen and wash drawing.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          40. (1) STUDY FOR A PAINTED HOUSE FRONT WITH    121
                THE FIGURE OF A SEATED EMPEROR. (2)
                THE AMBASSADORS OF THE SAMNITES BEFORE
                CURIUS DENTATUS

              The latter a fragment of the
                wall-painting in the Basel Town Hall.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          41. SAPOR AND VALERIAN                          131

              Design for one of the wall-paintings in
                the Basel Town Hall. Pen and
                water-colour drawing.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          42. (1) TWO LANDSKNECHTE. (2) THE PRODIGAL      139
                SON

              Designs for painted glass.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          43. DESIGN FOR A PAINTED WINDOW WITH THE        144
                COAT OF ARMS OF THE VON HEWEN FAMILY
                (1520)

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          44. ST. ELIZABETH, WITH KNEELING KNIGHT AND     148
                BEGGAR

              Design for painted glass.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          45. THE VIRGIN AND CHILD, WITH A KNEELING       149
                DONOR

              Design for painted glass.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          46. (1) CHRIST BEFORE CAIAPHAS. (2) THE         151
                SCOURGING OF CHRIST

              The “Passion” series of designs for
                painted glass.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          47. (1) THE MOCKING OF CHRIST. (2) CHRIST       152
                CROWNED WITH THORNS

              The “Passion” series of designs for
                painted glass.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          48. (1) PILATE WASHING HIS HANDS. (2) ECCE      153
                HOMO

              The “Passion” series of designs for
                painted glass.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          49. (1) CHRIST BEARING THE CROSS. (2) THE       154
                STRIPPING OF CHRIST’S GARMENTS

              The “Passion” series of designs for
                painted glass.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          50. (1) CHRIST NAILED TO THE CROSS. (2) THE     155
                CRUCIFIXION

              The “Passion” series of designs for
                painted glass.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          51. (1) COSTUME STUDY. (2) COSTUME STUDY        157

              Two drawings from a set of designs of
                ladies’ costumes.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          52. “THE EDELDAME”                              157

              Drawing from a set of designs of ladies’
                costumes.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          53. A FIGHT BETWEEN LANDSKNECHTE                160

              Drawing in Indian ink.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          54. ERASMUS (1523)                              169

              Reproduced by kind permission of the
                Earl of Radnor.

              _Longford Castle, Salisbury._

          55. STUDY FOR THE HANDS OF ERASMUS              171

              Drawing in silver-point and red and
                black chalk.

              _Louvre, Paris._

          56. ERASMUS (1523)                              172

              Reproduced in colour.

              _Louvre, Paris._

          57. THE DUCHESS OF BERRY                        176

              Drawing in black and coloured chalks.
                Reproduced in colour.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          58. (1) ERASMUS                                 180

              Roundel.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

              (2) PHILIP MELANCHTHON                      180

              Roundel.

              _Provinzial Museum, Hanover._

          59. ERASMUS                                     181

              _From a woodcut in the British Museum._

          60. MUCIUS SCÆVOLA AND LARS PORSENA             191

              Woodcut first used in 1516.

              _From a copy of More’s “Epigrams” in the
                British Museum._

          61. “THE TABLE OF CEBES”                        193

              Woodcut first used in 1521.

              _From a copy of Perotto’s “Cornucopiæ”
                in the British Museum._

          62. TITLE-PAGE TO LUTHER’S “NEW TESTAMENT”      195

              Woodcut first used in 1522.

              _From a copy in the British Museum._

          63. THE FOUR EVANGELISTS                        195

              Woodcuts and Initial Letters used on the
                first page of each gospel in the 1523
                edition of Luther’s “New Testament.”

              _From a copy in the British Museum._

          64. THE “CLEOPATRA” TITLE-PAGE                  198

              Woodcut first used in 1523.

              _From a copy of Erasmus’ “Christiani
                Matrimonii Institutio” in the British
                Museum._

          65. (1) CHRIST THE TRUE LIGHT. (2) THE SALE     198
                OF INDULGENCES

              Woodcuts.

              _From proofs in the British Museum._

          66. THE DANCE OF DEATH WOODCUTS                 217

              (1) THE EMPEROR.

              (2) THE KING.

              (3) THE CARDINAL.

              (4) THE EMPRESS.

              (5) THE ADVOCATE.

              (6) THE COUNSELLOR.

              (7) THE PREACHER.

              (8) THE PRIEST.

              _From proofs in the British Museum._

          67. THE DANCE OF DEATH WOODCUTS                 220

              (1) THE OLD MAN.

              (2) THE COUNTESS.

              (3) THE NOBLE LADY.

              (4) THE DUCHESS.

              (5) THE PLOUGHMAN.

              (6) THE YOUNG CHILD.

              (7) THE LAST JUDGMENT.

              (8) THE ARMS OF DEATH.

              _From proofs in the British Museum._

          68. THE DANCE OF DEATH ALPHABET                 224

              _From a proof in the Royal Print
                Cabinet, Dresden._

          69. THE OLD TESTAMENT WOODCUTS                  230

              (1) JACOB BLESSING EPHRAIM AND MANASSEH.

              (2) RUTH AND BOAZ.

              (3) JUDITH WITH THE HEAD OF HOLOFERNES.

              (4) AMOS PREACHING.

              _From proofs in the British Museum._

          70. THE OLD TESTAMENT WOODCUTS                  230

              (1) MOSES RECEIVING THE TABLES OF THE
                LAW.

              (2) THE RETURN FROM THE BABYLONIAN
                CAPTIVITY.

              _From proofs in the British Museum._

              (3) THE ANGEL SHOWING ST. JOHN THE NEW
                JERUSALEM (Revelation xxi.). Woodcut
                from Adam Petri’s “New Testament,”
                1523.

              _From a copy in the British Museum._

          71. THE MEYER MADONNA                           233

              _Darmstadt._

          72. (1) JAKOB MEYER. (2) DOROTHEA               236
                KANNENGIESSER

              Studies for the Meyer Madonna. Drawings
                in black and coloured chalks.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          73. (1) MAGDALENA OFFENBURG AS VENUS (1526).    246
                (2) MAGDALENA OFFENBURG AS LAÏS (1526)

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          74. STUDY FOR THE MORE FAMILY GROUP             293

              Drawing in Indian ink, with corrections
                and inscriptions in brown.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          75. THE MORE FAMILY GROUP                       295

              Reproduced by kind permission of Lord
                St. Oswald.

              _Nostell Priory, Wakefield._

          76. THE MORE FAMILY GROUP                       301

              The version formerly at Burford Priory,
                now in the possession of Messrs.
                Parkenthorpe, London. Reproduced by
                kind permission of Sir Hugh P. Lane.

          77. CECILIA HERON, DAUGHTER OF SIR THOMAS       303
                MORE

              Drawing in black and coloured chalks.
                Reproduced by gracious permission of
                H.M. the King.

              _Windsor Castle._

          78. SIR THOMAS MORE                             303

              Drawing in black and coloured chalks.
                Reproduced by gracious permission of
                H.M. the King.

              _Windsor Castle._

          79. PORTRAIT OF AN ENGLISH LADY                 309

              Drawing in black and red chalk and
                Indian ink.

              _Salting Bequest, British Museum._

          80. SIR HENRY GULDEFORD (1527)                  317

              Reproduced in colour, by gracious
                permission of H.M. the King.

              _Windsor Castle._

          81. (1) JOHN FISHER, BISHOP OF ROCHESTER        321

              Drawing in black and coloured chalks.
                Reproduced by gracious permission of
                H.M. the King.

              _Windsor Castle._

              (2) PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN ENGLISH LADY,    321
                POSSIBLY LADY GULDEFORD

              Drawing in black and coloured chalks.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          82. (1) UNKNOWN ENGLISHMAN. (2) UNKNOWN         321
                ENGLISH LADY

              Drawings in black and coloured chalks.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          83. WILLIAM WARHAM, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY    322
                (1527)

              Reproduced in colour.

              _Louvre, Paris._

          84. THOMAS AND JOHN GODSALVE (1528)             325

              _Royal Picture Gallery, Dresden._

          85. SIR JOHN GODSALVE                           326

              Drawing in black and coloured chalks and
                water-colour. Reproduced by gracious
                permission of H.M. the King.

              _Windsor Castle._

          86. NIKLAUS KRATZER (1528)                      327

              Reproduced in colour.

              _Louvre, Paris._

          87. SIR BRYAN TUKE                              331

              _Alte Pinakothek, Munich._

          88. SIR HENRY WYAT                              335

              Reproduced in colour.

              _Louvre, Paris._

          89. SIR THOMAS ELYOT                            336

              Drawing in black and coloured chalks.
                Reproduced by gracious permission of
                H.M. the King.

              _Windsor Castle._

          90. HOLBEIN’S WIFE AND CHILDREN (1528-9)        343

              Reproduced in colour.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          91. PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG WOMAN                   346

              Unfinished study in oils.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          92. KING REHOBOAM REBUKING THE ELDERS (1530)    348

              Three fragments of the wall-painting
                formerly in the Basel Town Hall.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          93. KING REHOBOAM REBUKING THE ELDERS           348

              Study for the wall-painting formerly in
                the Basel Town Hall.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          94. SAMUEL AND SAUL                             350

              Pen drawing in brown touched with
                water-colour. Study for the
                wall-painting  formerly in the Basel
                Town Hall.

              _Public Picture Collection, Basel._

          95. PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN ENGLISH LADY         354

              Formerly in the possession of the
                Bodenham family, Rotherwas Hall,
                Hereford. Reproduced by kind
                permission of Mr. Ayerst H. Buttery.

              _Mr. Ayerst H. Buttery, London._


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                                  NOTE


The following abbreviations are used in the footnotes to this book:—

    _C. L. P._, for Calendars of Letters and Papers, Foreign and
        Domestic, of the Reign of Henry VIII.

    Davies, for _Hans Holbein the Younger_ (Gerald S. Davies).

    Ganz, _Holbein_, for _Holbein d. J., des Meisters Gemälde in 252
        Abbildungen_ (Klassiker der Kunst).

    Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, for _Handzeichnungen Schweizerischer
        Meister_, ed. Dr. Paul Ganz.

    Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, for _Handzeichnungen von Hans
        Holbein dem Jüngeren._

    Woltmann, for _Holbein und seine Zeit_ (A. Woltmann).

    Wornum, for _Some Account of the Life and Works of Hans Holbein_ (R.
        N. Wornum).

In order to obviate the constant use of a somewhat long official title,
the Public Picture Collection, Basel, is generally referred to in this
book as the Basel Gallery.


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                        Hans Holbein the Younger




                               CHAPTER I

                 HANS HOLBEIN THE ELDER AND HIS FAMILY

The Holbein family in Switzerland and South Germany—Michel Holbein, the
  leather-dresser—Hans Holbein the Elder, citizen of Augsburg—His
  brother Sigmund, and his two sons, Ambrosius and Hans—The art of Hans
  Holbein the Elder and his position in the German School of
  painting—His principal pictures—Work in Ulm and Frankfurt—Paintings
  for the Convent of St. Catherine in Augsburg—Work for the Church of
  St. Moritz—Monetary difficulties—The St. Sebastian altar-piece—the
  “Fountain of Life” at Lisbon—His silver-point portrait drawings—His
  death at Isenheim.


DURING the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the name of Holbein was
not uncommon in various parts of Southern Germany and Switzerland. At
Ravensburg, near Lake Constance, a family of that name had settled as
paper manufacturers, their trade-mark being a bull’s head, which was
also used by Hans Holbein in his coat of arms. The name is also found in
the records of the town of Grünstadt, in Rhenish Bavaria, during the
same centuries; while for a still longer period members of a Holbein
family were living in Basel, where they had a house called “Zum Papst”
in the Gerbergasse. It was from this branch that the painter was in all
probability descended,[1] and it is also possible that the Basel and
Ravensburg Holbeins were connected. This relationship between the three
branches may have been one of the reasons which induced the youthful
Hans to turn his face towards Switzerland when he finally left Augsburg,
the city of his birth.

In Augsburg itself the first reference to a burgher bearing the name of
Holbein occurs in the middle of the fifteenth century. In 1448 a certain
Michel Holbein, who had been living at Oberschönefeld, in the near
neighbourhood, moved into Augsburg, and settled there permanently. In
the first entry in the records in which his name occurs he is called
“Michel von Schönenfeld,” but in 1454 his surname is given as “Holbain,”
this being the common spelling of the name in Augsburg at that time, or,
less frequently, “Holpain.” This Michel Holbein, who came from
Oberschönefeld, and died in Augsburg about 1497, and at one time was
regarded as the father of Hans Holbein the Elder, is no longer
considered to be identical with the latter, who was also named Michel
and was a leather-dresser by trade. From 1464 to 1475 the last named was
living in a house of his own, No. 472A in the Vorderer Lech, which is
spoken of as “Michel Holbains Hus,” or “Domus Michel Holbains.” After
1475 he changed his dwelling more than once, and his several removals
can be traced from the rate-books, in which his addresses at various
dates are given as “Salta zum Schlechtenbad,” “Vom Bilgrimhaus,” “Vom
Nagengast,” “In der Prediger Garten,” and so on. All these places were
in the Vorderer and Mittlerer Lech, in that part of the city to the east
of the Maximilianstrasse known as the Diepold, in the neighbourhood of
the Lech canals and streams, by which Augsburg is watered, along the
banks of which most of the smaller trades of the city were carried on
and the workshops of the artificers and metal-workers were situated. In
the years 1479, 1481, and 1482 Michel Holbein was absent from Augsburg,
and appears to have left his wife behind him, for in 1481 it is noted
against her in the rate-book that her husband was not with her (“Ihr
Mann nicht bei ihr”). Michel Holbein died probably about the year
1484.[2] His widow, whose name first occurs in the town records in 1469,
continued to move from house to house, her addresses being given as “in
der Strasse Am Judenberg,” “Von Sant Anthonino,” “Vom Diepolt,” and
beyond the Sträfinger Gate.

[Sidenote: HANS HOLBEIN THE ELDER]

The name of “Hanns Holbain” first appears in the records in the year
1494. This was the painter usually known as Hans Holbein the Elder, to
distinguish him from his more celebrated son. Although there is no
actual proof of the relationship, there is every reason to believe that
Hans the Elder was one of the sons of Michel the currier. He lived in
the same quarter of the city as the latter, his address in 1494 being in
the “Strasse vom Diepolt,” and two years later in the “Salta zum
Schlechtenbad.” More than once Hans Holbein’s mother is mentioned as
living with him, thus evidently at that time a widow, which affords
further proof in favour of the connection.[3] In 1504 it is recorded
that Sigmund, his brother, was living in the same house with Hans, which
confirms the statement by J. von Sandrart, one of the earliest of
Holbein’s biographers, in his _Teutsche Akademie_ (1675), that the elder
Hans Holbein and Sigmund were brothers, a relationship of which absolute
proof is to be found in the latter’s will. Sigmund was born after 1477,
was of age in 1503, and died in Berne in 1540.[4] The two painter
brothers had several sisters. Between 1478 and 1480 the records speak of
a daughter, Barbara von Oberhausen, as living with her mother, Michel
Holbainin, and a few years later a second daughter, Anna Holbainin, who
is sometimes called by the diminutive name “Endlin.” There appear to
have been four sisters in all, but Sigmund Holbein mentions only three
of them in his will, Barbara being apparently dead—Ursel (Ursula)
Nepperschmid, of Augsburg; Anna Elchinger, living by St. Ursula am
Schwall, in the same city; and Margreth Herwart, at Esslingen. The name
of this last sister, Margaret, occurs in the town records from 1502 as
“Gret” or “Margreth Holbainin.” In 1493 there is a reference to an
“Ottilia Holbainlin,” but the use of the diminutive in this case
suggests that she was a small child, and, therefore, more probably a
daughter rather than a sister of Hans Holbein the Elder.

[Sidenote: HANS HOLBEIN THE ELDER]

At one time, before these authentic records of the Holbein family had
been unearthed from the Steuerbücher and Gerichtsbücher of Augsburg, it
was believed that a third painter named Hans Holbein had existed, the
father of Hans Holbein the Elder. Attention was first called to him by
Passavant in 1846, in connection with a painting then in the possession
of Herr Samm of Mergenthau, and now in the Augsburg Museum. This
picture, which represents the Virgin Mary seated on a grassy bank by a
wall, with the Infant Christ in her arms, is signed “Hans Holbein, C.A.
(_i.e._ Civis Augustanus) 1459,” a date too early for the picture to
have been painted by Hans Holbein the Elder; but the inscription has
been proved to be a forgery. Further proof of the existence of this
painter was thought to have been discovered in connection with a second
picture, forty years later in date, and in reality from the hand of Hans
Holbein the Elder. It is one of a series of six pictures representing
the principal basilicas of Rome, ordered by the nuns of St. Catherine in
Augsburg in 1496, on the occasion of the reconstruction of their
convent. The names of the several donors of these pictures, with the
prices and other details, are preserved in the annals of the convent,
compiled by the nun Dominica Erhardt from old records and documents.
Extracts from this work were supplied to Passavant, including one with
reference to the picture of the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore, now in
the Augsburg Gallery (Nos. 62-64), which is signed “Hans Holbain” on the
two bells in the tower, and bears the date 1499. The passage in question
is as follows:—

“Item Dorothea Rölingerin hat lassen machen unser lieben frauen Taffel,
die gestatt oder steht 45 gulden. Vom alten Hans Holbein hie.” (Item.
Dorothea Rölingerin has ordered of old Hans Holbein a panel painting of
our dear Lady for the sum of 45 gulden.)

The term “old Holbein,” Passavant thought, could only be applied to the
grandfather of the family, for in 1499 Hans Holbein the Younger was
still a little child, and his father too young a man to be termed “the
old.” Later researches, however, proved that the extracts supplied to
Passavant were incorrect, containing numerous amplifications and
spurious additions not to be found in the original document, which,
after considerable search, was discovered by Dr. Woltmann in the
Episcopal Library in Augsburg. In the original record the price paid for
the picture is given as 60 gulden, and neither the name of “old Holbein”
nor of any other painter occurs, so that the myth of the grandfather
Hans was finally demolished.

[Sidenote: THE MYTHICAL BRUNO HOLBEIN]

There is no record of the birth of Hans Holbein the Elder; but as the
earliest dated picture by him so far discovered was painted in 1493, it
is supposed to have taken place about 1473-4.[5] There is equal lack of
information as to the date of his marriage or the name of his wife. It
was believed at one time, on the authority of Paul von Stetten, that she
was the daughter of Thomas Burgkmair, and sister of the more famous Hans
Burgkmair, and that the young couple lived with their father-in-law; but
no confirmation of this legend has been discovered. The two families
dwelt in the same street, “Vom Diepolt,” but Burgkmair’s house was No.
7, while Holbein’s was No. 17. His family, as far as is known, consisted
only of his two sons, Ambrosius and Hans. A third son, Bruno, is
mentioned by Remigius Faesch (1651) in his manuscript notes preserved in
the Basel Library, compiled from information supplied to him from the
Amerbach papers; but beyond this short notice, and a repetition of it by
Patin, there is no trace of a Bruno Holbein to be found. There are two
silver-point drawings, one of the head of a child in the Bernburg
Library,[6] and the other of a mitred bishop in the Albertina,
Vienna,[7] both dated 1515 and signed with the letters B. H. in
monogram, which it has been suggested are the work of the supposed
Bruno. Dr. Woltmann, however, considered them to be by Ambrosius
Holbein. The latter, he says, was known by the diminutive name of
“Prosy” in the family circle, and as at that time in Germany the letters
_p_ and _b_ were often used indifferently—as can be seen in the spelling
of Holbein’s own name in the Augsburg records, where it is sometimes
given as “Holbain,” and sometimes as “Holpain”—it may well be that the
monogram on these two drawings is that of “Prosy” or “Brosy” Holbein.[8]
Modern criticism, however, has shown that the attribution of these two
drawings to Ambrosius is a wrong one.[9]

[Sidenote: THE “BASILICA OF S. MARIA MAGGIORE”]

Hans Holbein the Elder, whose exceptional ability as an artist has
always been overshadowed by the greater genius of his celebrated son,
was one of the most representative painters of the Swabian School at the
close of the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth century. His
art, more particularly, but not only, in its earlier manifestations,
shows the influence of Martin Schongauer, and, through Schongauer, that
of Rogier van der Weyden and the Flemish School. The influence of
Schongauer upon him is at times so marked that it has been suggested
that he may have studied under him at Colmar during his younger days.
Whether this be true or not, it is evident that Holbein was still under
the spell of Schongauer’s painting during his stay in Isenheim towards
the end of his life. The “Fountain of Life,” painted there in 1519, owed
much of its inspiration to Schongauer’s “Madonna in the Rose Garden,”
which Holbein must have seen in the not far-distant city of Colmar. Both
in the types of his figures and the management of his draperies, as well
as in the arrangement of his compositions, there is an echo of
Schongauer’s art, which, however, may not have been derived through
personal contact with that painter, but largely from the study of his
numerous engravings, which were widely popular throughout Southern
Germany. Schongauer himself, whose father, Kasper Schongauer, was an
Augsburg painter, had studied, or, at least, had come much under the
influence of, Rogier van der Weyden at Tournai, and had caught from him
something of the sweetness and grace which characterised the finest
Flemish art of that day. These characteristics, and others
representative of the school, he handed on in his turn to the Swabian
painters, the elder Holbein among them. Hans Burgkmair was one of
Schongauer’s pupils, and was afterwards a near neighbour of Holbein, so
that he also may have been an inspiring force in the moulding of the art
of both the older and the younger Hans. Another of Schongauer’s
followers, Bartolomaeus Zeitblom of Ulm, is also considered to have had
some influence upon the elder Holbein’s painting. The latter, at one
period of his career, became a citizen of Ulm, where he must have
encountered Zeitblom, the leading painter of that city. Thus his earlier
works show a gradual fusion of the methods of the old German or Rhenish
School with those of the Flemings. He began to paint in the days when
German art was almost uninfluenced by the great Italian Renaissance,
which was gradually but surely spreading over Europe, but before the
close of his career he had succumbed to its spell. A chronological
examination of his later works shows what a vitalising force his study
of Italian models had upon his style, though he did not accept these
changes as easily or as rapidly as some of his contemporaries, such as
Burgkmair. Unlike the latter, however, he never paid a visit to Italy,
but he nevertheless found it impossible in the end to resist the new
artistic impulses with which that country was then flooding the rest of
Europe. It was not necessary for him, however, to cross the Alps in
order to experience the magic spell of the new teaching, for Augsburg
was one of the first of the South German towns to feel the effects of
the Renaissance. The two chief routes from Italy, the western one from
Milan, and the eastern road from Venice, met at its gates. The greater
part of the trade between the Venetian States and Germany passed through
the city, and its leading merchants had business branches in Venice and
other North Italian towns. Many members of the Fugger and other
patrician families of Augsburg spent long periods in the districts
immediately south of the Alps, for the purpose of extending their trade
connections; and the active commercial intercourse with Italy which
resulted brought not only riches to the Augsburgers, but knowledge and
love of the new culture as well, and thus through the old free city of
Swabia the intellectual and artistic wealth of the Renaissance made its
way into Germany. The elder Holbein was among those who reaped advantage
from this intercourse between the two countries. Without entirely
abandoning the solid German groundwork of his art, he stripped it, more
particularly in his management of draperies, of many of its hardnesses.
His colour grew more harmonious, and his handling broader and more free.
His figures became less attenuated, and his heads, treated with greater
realism, displayed more character, while the general composition of his
pictures showed a greater dignity of conception and a deeper sense of
beauty. In addition to these gradual changes in his art, the new
influence wrought a complete alteration in his methods of dealing with
all accessories and with the architectural backgrounds against which his
subjects were placed, Renaissance forms and ornamentation taking the
place of the earlier Gothic settings.

The earliest dated pictures which can be ascribed to him with any
certainty are four altar-panels in the Cathedral of Augsburg, of the
year 1493, which at one time formed the two wings of an altar-piece in
the Abbey of Weingarten, representing Joachim’s Sacrifice, the Birth and
the Presentation of Mary in the Temple, and the Presentation of
Christ.[10] They display a strong Flemish influence, with a warm,
luminous colour, and considerable dignity and sense of beauty in the
figures.

His next pictures of which the date is certain are of the year 1499,[11]
and include the picture of the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore,[12] the
work already mentioned as ordered by Dorothea Rölingerin[13] for the
Convent of St. Catherine in Augsburg, and at one time attributed to the
mythical grandfather Hans. It is a panel in the form of a broad pointed
arch, corresponding, like the five other pictures of the series, with
the vaulting of the chamber for which it was painted. It contains four
scenes in three sections, divided from one another by gilded Gothic
ornamentation. The lower half of the central compartment contains a view
of the church, with a pilgrim kneeling at the altar. On the two bells is
inscribed “Hans Holba—in 1499,” while an “H” is on one of the
tombstones, and the date is repeated on the outer wall of the church.
The upper part of the arch is filled with the Crowning of the Virgin.
The division on the left contains St. Joseph and the Virgin adoring the
Child in the stable, that on the right the Martyrdom of St. Dorothea, in
honour of the donor of the picture, who is represented, a small figure,
kneeling in prayer behind the saint. This picture is now in the Augsburg
Museum (Nos. 62-64).

A second work in the same gallery (No. 61), of the same date, is,
however, far inferior to the foregoing, the execution being careless and
perfunctory. It was a commission from the nun Walburg Vetter, also for
the Convent of St. Catherine, as an offering from herself, and in memory
of her two sisters, Veronica and Christina, all three of whom lived,
died, and were buried in the convent; and the indifference of the
workmanship has been attributed to the fact that Holbein received
extremely poor payment for it, only 26 gulden in all. It has an arched
top, and is divided into a number of small compartments, with the
Crowning of the Virgin above, and six roughly-painted scenes from
Christ’s Passion below, in which the figures, more particularly of the
executioners, are extremely repulsive. It is dated, and contains a long
inscription.[14]

Shortly after he had sent out this very inferior example of his art from
his workshop, Holbein appears to have left Augsburg for a year or two,
and to have settled in Ulm. His name is found in the Augsburg rate-books
every year from 1494 to 1499, but is missing in 1500 and 1501, while
there is a document in the Augsburg archives, dated Wednesday, November
6, 1499, which proves that in that year he had become for the time being
a citizen of Ulm (“Hannsen Holbain dem Maller, jetzo Bürger zu
Ulm”),[15] though no traces remain of any work undertaken by him in that
city. This entry is in connection with the contract for the purchase of
a house in Augsburg from which Holbein received interest.

[Sidenote: THE KAISHEIM ALTAR-PIECE]

In 1501 he was in Frankfurt, engaged upon an altar-piece for the
Dominican convent church. Two large panels, which once formed the back
of the centre portion of this work, represent the genealogy of Christ
and that of the Dominicans,[16] each in two divisions. On the first
there is a Latin inscription stating that the work was executed in 1501
to the order of the Superior, one “I. W.,” and concluding with the
words, “HANS HOILBAYN DE AVGVSTA ME PINXIT.” These panels are now in the
Städtisches Museum in Frankfurt, together with seven out of eight scenes
of “Christ’s Passion,” which originally covered the outer and inner
sides of the wings of the same altar-piece.[17]

In 1502 he was back again in Augsburg, at work upon a large altar-piece
for the monastery of Kaisheim at Donauwörth. Sixteen portions of it,
which formed the inner and outer panels of the folding doors, are now in
the Munich Gallery (Nos. 193-208).[18] Between the years 1490 and 1509
the Abbot Georg Kastner spent much money on the adornment of the fine
Gothic church of this famous imperial monastery, and in an old
manuscript chronicle which has survived, there is a passage referring to
this particular altar-piece, from which it is to be gathered that two
other artificers of Augsburg, the sculptor Gregorius and the joiner
Adolph Kastner, were associated with Holbein in the work. It speaks of
them as three masters of Augsburg, who were the best masters far and
near. The panels from the outer sides of the shutters represent scenes
from the Passion, those from the inner ones incidents in the life of the
Virgin and the childhood of Christ. The former are of inferior
workmanship to the latter, and were no doubt produced wholly or in great
part by an apprentice or assistant, for they display many exaggerated
and grotesque types and a general lack of taste in composition. The
inner panels show a far higher standard, and are from the hand of the
elder Holbein himself, whose signature occurs no less than three times
as “J. H.,” “Hans Holbon,” and finally the inscription, “Depictum per
Johannem Holbain Augustensem 1502.” Studies for some of the heads are to
be found in his sketch-book in the Basel Gallery. Several panels
representing the martyrdom of the Apostles, at Nuremberg, Schleissheim,
and elsewhere, have much in common with the Kaisheim altar-piece.

In the same year (1502) Holbein was engaged for a second time upon work
for the Convent of St. Catherine in Augsburg. This was a panel, in three
compartments, representing the Transfiguration of Christ,[19] a
commission from a leading Augsburg citizen, Ulrich Walther, whose
daughters, Anna and Maria, were inmates of the convent, the former being
the prioress. It is now in the Augsburg Gallery (Nos. 65-67). It was
ordered to be made “to the praise of God and in honour of his two
daughters,” and the price paid was 54 gulden 30 kreuzers. Walther, who,
dying at the age of eighty-six in 1505, left behind him one hundred and
thirty-three living descendants, is represented kneeling in the lower
part of the left-hand compartment, with eight sons behind him; and in
the corresponding part of the opposite compartment are his wife, the two
nuns, and twelve others, daughters and daughters-in-law, also kneeling
in prayer. These portraits, of which those of the younger children in
particular are of considerable charm, form the happiest part of the
painting. In the central subject, the movements by which the Apostles
express their surprise at the transfiguration of their Master are
exaggerated almost to the point of caricature. The side panels represent
the Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes, and the Healing of the Possessed
Youth.

[Sidenote: THE “BAPTISM OF ST. PAUL”]

A much finer work, painted for the same convent, is the “Basilica of St.
Paul,”[20] like the “Transfiguration,” now in the Augsburg Gallery (Nos.
68-70). Although undated, it is usually ascribed to the year 1504. It
was ordered by Veronica Weiser, daughter of the Burgomaster Bartholomäus
Welser. She was one of the wealthiest of the sisters, and was at that
time secretary to the convent, and afterwards succeeded Anna Walther as
prioress. It follows the shape of the other pictures in the cloisters,
that of a broad pointed arch, and is divided into a central and two side
panels, separated by late Gothic gilded ornamentation. It depicts scenes
from the life of St. Paul. In the upper arched portion is the Mocking of
Christ, while the lower compartments contain the Conversion, Baptism,
Martyrdom, and Burial of St. Paul, with other events in his life in the
background. In the central division Holbein has shown the donor seated
in a chair in front of the basilica with her back to the spectator, an
evident portrait, although the face is not visible. The name “Thecla” is
written on the chair-back. The division on the left hand is of much
greater interest, for it contains portraits of the Holbein family,
including the earliest but one known of Hans Holbein the Younger. The
subject is the Baptism of St. Paul (Pl. 1), who is represented, a nude
figure, standing in a stone font in the foreground. In the right-hand
foreground the artist has placed a group of three spectators, a
middle-aged man and two small boys, representing, according to old
tradition, the painter himself and his two sons, Ambrosius and Hans. The
truth of this tradition is confirmed by three drawings by the elder
Holbein which still exist—one, a head of himself, a study for the St.
Sebastian altar-piece, inscribed “Hanns Holbain maler—Der alt,” now in
the Aumale Collection at Chantilly;[21] and the others, in the Berlin
Print Room, representing the two boys in the years 1502 and 1511.[22] In
the picture the painter himself, with long hair and a flowing beard, but
the upper lip shaved, and dressed in a fur-lined coat, stands with his
right hand resting upon the head of the younger boy, and with the first
finger of his left points towards him as though wishing to draw
particular attention to him. Ambrosius, with his hair curling upon his
shoulders, stands with his right hand placed affectionately upon his
younger brother’s shoulder, and with his left clasps the other’s hand.
Both boys are dressed in grey cloth gowns, with gaiters and thick shoes,
the elder having a pen-case and ink-bottle suspended from his girdle.
Hans, a big-headed, round-faced, chubby little lad, six or seven years
old, has shorter hair. One hand is raised to his chest, and the other
grasps a stick. The father’s face is not a highly intellectual one, but
is sensitive and amiable; that of the boy Hans is stronger in character,
with a fine forehead and good mouth. On the opposite side of the picture
there stands a lady, seen in profile, with plaited golden hair and a
white head-dress. Her costume is a rich one, with brocaded sleeves, and
the lower part of her skirts edged with pearls. Tradition, which is
possibly correct, declares this lady to be the mother of the two boys.
There is considerable likeness between her and Ambrosius, and it is
evident that she is taking no part in the incident of the Baptism beyond
that of a very passive spectator. The costume she wears precludes her
from being the donor of the picture, who, indeed, is already represented
in the central compartment. Holbein apparently introduced his whole
family into the work. The only reason for throwing doubt on the
tradition lies in the elaborate dress she is wearing, which seems too
sumptuous for a poor painter’s wife; for the elder Holbein at this
period of his life was in frequent difficulties over money. Mr. Gerald
Davies draws attention to a drawing by him in coloured chalks in the
Munich Print Room, which, he thinks, represents the wife some years
earlier, perhaps before her marriage.[23] “It is,” he says, “a very
charming drawing of a young woman, not of any special beauty beyond that
which belongs to every young face which has the sparkle of happy
pleasure in the lips and eyes; the hair is partly covered with a white
cap, into which some delicate yellow is touched, and she wears yellow
sleeves and bands of the same colour across the white chest front.
Allowing for some years’ difference in age, this may well, I think, be
the same person as she who appears in the Augsburg picture. But, whether
it be the mother of the great painter or no, it is certainly a study
which shows Hans Holbein the Elder to have been possessed in some degree
of those very qualities in which his son afterwards stood supreme. There
is something of the same sympathetic power of seeing, and the same
completeness of recording what has been seen, without pedantries and
without makeshifts, all that gives to any given human face its charm and
its interest.... There is in it something of inspiration which neither
care nor industry nor strength—and there are certainly artists stronger
than he—can give. There is in this drawing the germ, and something more
than the germ, of the spirit of his great son.”[24]

This altar-piece, in which the figures are represented at about
one-third the size of life, marks a considerable advance in Holbein’s
art, both in technical qualities, the harmony of colouring, and in the
drawing of the figures and natural arrangement of the draperies. When
ordering the picture, Veronica Welser at the same time commissioned Hans
Burgkmair to paint one of the Basilica of Santa Croce and the legend of
St. Ursula. Only one payment, 187 gulden, is recorded for the two. As
Burgkmair’s picture is dated 1504, it is natural to suppose that
Holbein’s altar-piece was painted at about the same time.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 1.


[Illustration:

  THE BAPTISM OF ST. PAUL
  Left-hand panel of the “St. Paul” Altar-piece, with portraits of the
    Holbein Family
  HANS HOLBEIN THE ELDER
  AUGSBURG GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: THE ELDER HOLBEIN’S TROUBLES]

Between the years 1504 and 1508 Holbein found frequent employment in
connection with the Church of St. Moritz in Augsburg. Various payments
are recorded in the church account books, but the pictures he painted
cannot now be traced. Among them appear to have been two large
altar-pieces, for which he frequently received small sums in advance at
his own request. On the 28th October 1506, he agreed to supply four
altar-panels for 100 gulden, receiving 10 gulden on account. Money was
evidently scarce in the Holbein household in these years; he was even
obliged to borrow 3 gulden from the churchwarden’s wife. For the second
altar-piece, commissioned on the 16th March 1508, he was to receive the
considerable sum of 325 gulden; but, as he was evidently still in debt,
the whole of the money was not paid directly to him, but was handed over
to various creditors; thus 74 gulden was paid to one Thomas Freihamer.
On the same occasion Holbein’s wife received a present of 5 gulden from
the church authorities, and his son, no doubt Ambrosius, one gulden.[25]

The elder Holbein, indeed, was often in monetary difficulties, more
particularly towards the end of his life. From time to time he was sued
for small sums by impatient creditors. In 1503 he went to law with a
neighbour, Paulson Mair, and on the 10th May 1515 he was sued by his
butcher, Ludwig Smid, for one gulden. In the following year he was twice
in the courts, the second time at the suit of one Jörg Lotter for the
small amount of 32 kreuzers. On the 12th January 1517 his own brother,
Sigmund, was obliged to take proceedings against him for a debt of 34
florins, money advanced to enable Holbein to move his painting materials
to “Eysznen”—that is, Isenheim in Alsace—to which place he went towards
the end of 1516 for the purpose of painting an altar-piece for the
monastery of St. Anthony. Once again, in 1521, a certain Hans Kämlin
sued him before the justices for two sums of 40 kreuzers, and 2 florins
40 kreuzers. Thus, in spite of numerous commissions, which, however,
were not always well-paid ones, he often had great difficulty in
supporting his household in comfort.[26]

[Sidenote: THE “ST. SEBASTIAN” ALTAR-PIECE]

The scope of this book does not permit a detailed description, or even a
bare list, of his numerous works. Two only of his later, and probably
his finest, paintings must be alluded to briefly—the “Martyrdom of St.
Sebastian,” in the Munich Gallery (Nos. 209-211), painted shortly before
his departure from Augsburg to Isenheim, and the “Fountain of Life,” in
Lisbon, both of which were at one time ascribed to his younger son.[27]
The “St. Sebastian” altar-piece,[28] which in earlier days was rightly
regarded as a work of the elder Holbein, is thought to have been one of
several commissions given to him by the nuns of St. Catherine in
Augsburg. The entry in the archives which is supposed to refer to it
merely states that “Sister Magdalena Imhoff has given 3 gulden to the
new Sebastian, for the Holy Cross on the altar, and the lay sisters 2
florins. This is the cost of the said picture.” Neither the name of the
artist who was employed upon it nor the date of the order is given, and
from the wording of the entry, and the very small price paid, it seems
evident that it cannot refer to so important a painting as the “St.
Sebastian.” Dr. Woltmann was probably right in suggesting that what was
ordered was merely a painted wooden figure of the saint, which was to be
added to a carved group of the Crucifixion on the altar of the
church.[29] The picture was first attributed to the younger Holbein by
Passavant and Dr. Waagen, who were misled by the forged extracts from
the St. Catherine annals, in which the passage quoted above was
considerably amplified, the “St. Sebastian” being definitely described
as a picture “by the skilful painter Holbein,” with the additional
information that it was ordered in 1515, and placed in the church in
1517, after its rebuilding, and that Magdalena Imhoff paid 10 gulden
towards it, and the other lay sisters 2 gulden each. As a result of this
falsification, the authorship of the picture was taken from the father
and given to the son, and, in consequence, it was regarded for a number
of years as an extraordinary manifestation of youthful genius. Even when
the forgery was discovered, such critics as Dr. Woltmann and Mr. Wornum
continued, from considerations of style, to uphold the picture as an
early Augsburg work of the younger Holbein. The inner and outer panels
of the wings, in particular, were considered to afford undoubted proof,
by their high artistic merit and their method of handling, that they
were from the brush of the son; and some modern critics still maintain
that, if not entirely his work, they were nevertheless carried out by
him under his father’s supervision, although they show a much more
finished and mature style than is to be found in the first sacred
paintings he produced in his early Basel days. Professor Karl Voll of
Munich holds that no one but the younger Hans could have painted the
lovely figures of St. Elizabeth and St. Barbara. Dr. Glaser, on the
other hand, is of opinion that the whole altar-piece is the work of Hans
Holbein the Elder. The picture is undated, though Passavant states that
it is inscribed “1516.” According to Förster, in 1840 the old frame bore
the inscription “1516, H. Holbain.” Dr. Woltmann placed it in the year
1515, but at that date the younger Hans had already left Augsburg for
Basel. From considerations of style, however, and the strong Renaissance
influence it displays, it is now generally considered to have been
executed by Hans Holbein the Elder in or about 1516, prior to his
departure from Augsburg to Isenheim.

Judged by his authentic works of this date in Basel, it is difficult to
allow that the younger Holbein had any serious part in the painting of
this altar-piece, though he may have worked on some of the details under
his father’s direction. Whether originally painted to the order of the
nuns of St. Catherine or not, the picture is said to have been found in
their possession on the abolition of the convent. It was acquired in
1809 from the church of St. Sauveur in Augsburg.

The central panel (Pl. 2) shows the nude figure of the saint, transfixed
with arrows, his right arm fastened by a chain above his head to a
fig-tree. Four archers at very close quarters are shooting at him, the
one kneeling in the left foreground, in the act of bending his bow,
being dressed in a striped costume of blue and white, the colours of
Bavaria, the hereditary enemy of Augsburg. Behind them stand spectators
in rich costumes, two on either side, the foremost one on the right
being the officer of the Emperor Diocletian, who is directing the
execution. In the background is a river, on the far side of which rise
the towers and buildings of a city, with the Alps beyond. The outer
panels of the shutters are painted with the “Annunciation to the
Virgin,” and the inner ones with the figures of St. Barbara and St.
Elizabeth (Pl. 3). St. Barbara, who is attired in a purple mantle, a
blue dress embroidered with gold, and wide white puffed sleeves, holds a
cup with the Host hovering over it. St. Elizabeth has also a purple
mantle, and a dress edged with fur. With her left hand she gathers up
her cloak, in which she is carrying bread for the poor, and with the
other pours wine from a tankard into a shallow bowl held by one of the
two beggars crouching at her feet. These two suppliants, both of whom
are afflicted with leprosy, have been painted with extreme and even
repulsive realism. Behind the leper on the right appears the head of the
painter himself, kneeling in adoration. The background in both these
panels is similar in character to the central one, that behind St.
Elizabeth representing, so it is said, a view of the Wartburg, near
Eisenach; while above and below are deep bands of rich Renaissance
ornamentation, of the type of design which the younger Holbein
afterwards carried to so high a degree of excellence. The whole work,
though still retaining many indications of the earlier influences which
moulded the elder Holbein’s art, is strongly imbued with the newer
conception of painting received from Italy. The drawing of the nude
displays greater knowledge than in the “St. Paul” altar-piece, the
colour is finer, and the figures of the two saints on the shutters
possess much grace and beauty. There are several silver-point studies
for the picture in the Copenhagen Museum, while the study for the head
of Holbein himself is, as already pointed out, at Chantilly.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 2.


[Illustration:

  THE MARTYRDOM OF ST. SEBASTIAN
  Central Panel
  HANS HOLBEIN THE ELDER
  ALTE PINAKOTHEK, MUNICH
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 3.


[Illustration:

  ST. BARBARA                    ST. ELIZABETH
  Inner sides of the wings of the St. Sebastian Altar-piece
  HANS HOLBEIN THE ELDER
  ALTE PINAKOTHEK, MUNICH
]

[Sidenote: “THE FOUNTAIN OF LIFE”]

It is in the “Fountain of Life” (Pl. 4),[30] painted in 1519,[31] that
the strongest proofs of the elder Holbein’s final surrender to the
influences of the Italian Renaissance are to be discovered. This
picture, like more than one other of his works, was formerly ascribed to
the son. Nothing is known of its earlier history, but it is said[32] to
have been taken from England to Portugal by Catherine of Braganza,
daughter of John IV of Portugal, and wife of Charles II, when she
returned home a widow after the king’s death in 1685, and that it was
presented by her to the chapel of the castle of Bemposta, where it
remained until removed to the royal palace in Lisbon forty or fifty
years ago. It thus appears to have belonged to the royal collections of
England in Charles II’s time, but no traces of it are to be found in any
inventory. If the picture ever was in this country, it can have been
only for a short time, for about the year 1628 it was in the collection
of the Elector Maximilian I of Bavaria, and is very carefully described
in a manuscript catalogue of his pictures of that date, with the
measurements, the date, and the name of the artist—“von Hanns Holpain ao
1519 gemalt.”[33] It is signed “IOHANNES HOLBEIN FECIT 1519,” but from
its present condition this signature seems to have been painted over an
older one. Attention was first called to the picture by Pietro
Guarienti, keeper of the Dresden Gallery, who was in Portugal from 1733
to 1736. He read the name as “Holtein,” and considered it to be the work
of one of Holbein’s pupils. This would indicate that the signature was
then becoming illegible, and that it was renovated some time after
Guarienti saw it. On the inner edge of the circular fountain in the
foreground there is also an inscription, “PVTEVS AQVARVM VIVENTIVM,”
which has also been retouched by some clumsy hand, for the older
writing, white on a brown ground, can still be seen beneath it.

The background, which occupies the upper half of the picture, is filled
with a building or open loggia of very elaborate architecture in the
style of the Italian Renaissance, with pillars of vari-coloured marbles,
and capitals and friezes richly carved and decorated. In the central
foreground, on the steps which ascend to this building, the Virgin
appears, enthroned. The Infant Christ sits astride her right arm, firmly
clasped against her breast. The Virgin appears to have been painted from
the same model as the Virgin on the outer shutters of the “St.
Sebastian” altar-piece. The Fountain of Life drips from a marble Cupid’s
mask on the step below her feet into a small circular basin, on the edge
of which is placed a tall vase with a spray of white lilies. Behind her
carved chair stand St. Joseph and St. Anne, and on either side of her
are groups of three saints, the two foremost ones being seated, with the
folds of their dresses spread over the flower-strewn grass. On the right
is St. Dorothy, in a richly-brocaded costume, and behind her kneels St.
Catherine of Alexandria with her right hand stretched towards the Infant
Christ, as a sign of their betrothal. On the left St. Margaret is
seated, with a book and a long cross, and a dragon at her feet, and
behind her St. Barbara is kneeling, holding the cup with the Host. Two
other saints complete the near groups, and in the background a number of
other saints are placed on either side. One of the figures is not unlike
the so-called wife of Holbein in the “St. Paul” altar-piece. Still
farther off, beyond the rails of the portico or temple, are three groups
of singing and playing angels with vari-coloured wings. In the distance
is an elaborate landscape, with a tall palm-tree, classical ruins, and a
view of sea and mountains. Bands of dark cloud stretch across the sky,
and the evening light still lingers over the waters, producing a
peaceful and rather sombre effect. The composition is the most
considerable to be found in any of the elder Holbein’s works, and is
well grouped and arranged. The influence of Martin Schongauer can be
very clearly traced in it, and the unusual position in which the Virgin
is holding the Child is directly derived from Schongauer’s beautiful
“Madonna in the Rose Garden,” which Holbein must have studied in the
neighbouring city of Colmar.[34] There were also altar-panels by
Schongauer in the Isenheim Monastery itself, where Holbein appears to
have been working when he painted the “Fountain of Life.” In addition to
this direct influence, others, both Flemish and Italian, are to be
traced in it, but well fused, so that the whole composition is unforced
and natural, and contains passages of much beauty. There is delicacy and
warmth in the flesh tints, and the sincerity of feeling which pervades
all the principal figures is one of its chief charms. The rich
architecture of the background shows good understanding and appreciation
of the Italian models upon which it is based, and in all ways the
picture indicates that when the elder Holbein put forth his greatest
powers he was worthy of being ranked among the best German painters of
the early sixteenth century.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 4.


[Illustration:

  THE FOUNTAIN OF LIFE
  HANS HOLBEIN THE ELDER
  NATIONAL MUSEUM OF ANCIENT ART, LISBON
]

Although he does not appear to have had many opportunities of exercising
his skill as a portrait-painter, his very numerous studies in this
branch of art show abilities of a very high order, and possess many of
the qualities, though in a lesser degree, which his son afterwards
developed to so high a pitch of perfection. Indeed, in these
portrait-studies of men his art attains its greatest strength and finest
accomplishment. Sixty-nine of his drawings of heads are preserved in the
Imhoff Collection in the Berlin Museum. They are on the leaves of
sketch-books, and were made between 1509 and 1516, in silver-point and
pencil, some of them strengthened with white and with red chalk. A
smaller number of heads from the same series are in the Copenhagen
Museum, and at Basel and Bamberg, while isolated examples are to be
found in the print rooms of more than one European museum. Some of the
Basel drawings were made before 1508, and in the collection of M. Léon
Bonnat, which contains several fine silver-points by the elder Hans,
there is one of the Augsburg goldsmith, Jörig Seld, dated 1497.

[Sidenote: THE ELDER HOLBEIN’S STUDIES]

These drawings, which at one time were all ascribed to his son, and
are so attributed in the first edition of Dr. Woltmann’s book,
represent citizens of Augsburg in all classes of life, many of them,
no doubt, personal friends of the painter, who, in a number of cases,
has written their names on the sketches. There is no evidence to show
that the majority of them were preliminary studies for portraits for
which he had received commissions; they were done partly for his own
amusement and practice, and partly to serve as models for figures in
his sacred paintings. They form, nevertheless, a very valuable record
of the Augsburg life of his day, and so may be compared, in the
wideness of their range at least, with the more brilliant series of
drawings by his son. In numerous instances the same sitter has been
drawn two or three times; of Johannes Schrott[35] and Hans
Griesher,[36] monks of St. Ulrich, there are no less than seven and
six respectively. Among them there are portraits of the Emperor
Maximilian,[37] on horseback, in helmet, and with sword, and of his
grandson, afterwards Charles V,[38] with a falcon on his wrist,
inscribed “herzog karl vo burgundy.” As Charles became Duke of
Burgundy in 1515, and King of Castile in 1516, the drawing must have
been made in the former year. There are several portraits of members
of the great Fugger family, among them Jacob Fugger,[39] the head of
the clan; his nephews, Raimund[40] and Anton[41]; his cousin, Ulrich
Fugger the Younger,[42] and his wife, Veronica Gassner[43]; and
several more. Other leading Augsburg families are represented in heads
of Gumprecht Rauner,[44] Hans Nell,[45] Hans Pfleger,[46] and Hans
Herlins,[47] and members of the court circle by such men as Kunz von
der Rosen,[48] the Emperor Maximilian’s lifelong friend and adviser.
Included among these drawings are representations of more than one of
Holbein’s fellow-workers in art, such as Hans Schwartz[49] the
wood-carver, and Burkhart Engelberg,[50] stone-carver and architect.
Representatives of more lowly pursuits are Gumpret Schwartz,[51]
schoolmaster, and one Grün,[52] a tailor, and certain “merry fellows”
of the artisan class. The heads of ladies are not very numerous, but
one of them, the wife of the Guildmaster Schwartzensteiner,[53] a
typical example of the “good wife” of Augsburg, has been drawn no less
than three times. A less reputable personage among them is Anna, known
as “the Lomentlin,”[54] who was twice expelled from the town for
serious misconduct, and returned in the end apparently repentant,
afterwards posing as a saint, and professing to be able to live
without meat or drink. One of the most important groups in this series
of drawings represents the monks of St. Ulrich, Augsburg’s famous
monastery—Heinrich Grün,[55] Leonhard Wagner,[56] Conrad Merlin,[57]
Johannes Schrott, Hans Griesher, and others. Finally, there are a few
studies of heads of members of the artist’s family, including his own
likeness, that of his brother Sigmund,[58] and the double portraits of
his two sons, which have been already mentioned.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF A LADY OF AUGSBURG]

There is a small finished portrait of a lady of Augsburg, whose
Christian name only, Maria, is known, in the collection of Sir Frederick
Cook, at Richmond, which is the sole example of portraiture by the elder
Holbein in England; and, indeed, with the exception of the portrait of a
man, dated 1513, in the Lanckoronski Collection in Vienna,[59] which is
also attributed to him, it is very possibly the only specimen of such
work by him in existence. This portrait is of particular interest,
because it conflicts with the statement of Dr. Glaser, that he never
painted an independent portrait.[60] It was formerly attributed to the
younger Holbein, but most critics failed to see his hand in it; and,
when exhibited at the Burlington Fine Arts Club in 1906, it was
described as of the South German School, with a note recording that the
names of Schaffner and Ambrosius Holbein had been tentatively suggested
in connection with it. Dr. Friedländer, however, considered it to be a
work of the younger Holbein in his early Basel period. In 1908 Dr. Carl
Giehlow suggested that the older painter was its real author, and drew
attention for the first time to the fact that a fine study for it exists
in the British Museum (Pl. 5); and further evidence in favour of this
attribution has been brought forward by Mr. Campbell Dodgson.[61]

The picture is on panel, 13¾ by 10½ inches. The sitter wears a white cap
with embroidered margin of fleur-de-lis pattern. Her yellow bodice,
trimmed at the edges with a broad band of black velvet, opens in front
to show a white under-garment patterned in black and gold. The girdle is
studded with gold ornaments. The hands are hidden, being pushed within
the sleeves, as though for warmth. The background is plain blue, and on
the back of the panel is painted “Maria” in an abbreviated form,
evidently the sitter’s Christian name. On the front of the old original
frame is inscribed: “ALSO.WAS.ICH.VIR.WAR.IN.DEM. 34. IAR.” (So was I in
truth in my thirty-fourth year.)

The silver-point drawing in the British Museum is, says Mr. Dodgson, “a
delicate piece of work, in perfect preservation, and so fresh and
spontaneous that it must be regarded as a study from life, preparatory
to the picture, and not as a copy from the latter. It is significant
that only the main outlines of the costume are noted, and that
ornamental details, which it would have taken a long time to draw, are
reserved for the final execution of the portrait in oils; nothing of the
kind is even suggested except the fleur-de-lis pattern on the cap. All
the essential outlines of the figure itself, on the other hand, are
drawn with a careful and expressive line, which notes the folds of the
flesh beneath the chin more accurately than the creases of the sleeve at
the elbow.” This drawing, like the portrait itself, is neither signed
nor dated, so that it may be suggested, by those who see in the finished
work the hand of the younger Holbein, that the drawing also is the work
of the son. There is, however, a second drawing of the same lady in the
Berlin Museum,[62] one of the series of the elder Holbein’s studies, in
which she is represented in almost the same position, and wearing the
same dress, though apparently several years older.[63] It does not seem
to be a repetition of the earlier drawing, but a fresh portrait from
life made after a considerable interval. The Berlin drawing is
undoubtedly the work of the elder painter, while the one in the British
Museum is closer to his style than to that of his son at the period in
question, when the latter was still in his teens, as shown in such early
Basel drawings as the studies of Meyer and his wife. The new
attribution, therefore, appears to be the correct one, the evidence in
favour of the elder Holbein being, if not conclusive, at least very
strong.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 5.


[Illustration:

  STUDY FOR THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY OF AUGSBURG
  _Silver-point drawing_
  HANS HOLBEIN THE ELDER
  BRITISH MUSEUM
]

Little is known of the last eight years of his life. The “Fountain of
Life” is the only picture painted by him during that period which has
survived.[64] It is supposed that he never returned to Augsburg, but
died in Isenheim; but that he spent the whole period there seems
unlikely. Isenheim is close to Basel, and it is not impossible that his
last days were passed under the roof of his son Hans in the latter city.
A letter, dated 4th July 1526, and addressed to the Vicar of the Order
of St. Anthony in Isenheim by the burgomaster of Basel, Heinrich
Meltinger, bears out this supposition.[65] It was written on behalf of
Hans Holbein the Younger, and by means of it he made a final attempt to
obtain possession of, or compensation for, his father’s painting
materials, which the latter had left behind him, or which had been
detained for some purpose by the monastery authorities. From this letter
it appears, also, that the son had made more than one previous attempt,
during his father’s lifetime, and at the elder painter’s request, to get
the goods returned; from which it is to be inferred that for some
considerable time prior to his death Hans Holbein the Elder had left
Isenheim. In 1521, as already pointed out, he was sued by Hans Kämlin
for a small debt, but this does not necessarily indicate that the
painter himself was in Augsburg at the time. His death took place in
1524, as is proved by an entry in the Handwerksbuch of the Augsburg
Painters’ Guild of that year, in which “Hannss Holbain maller” is noted
as deceased; but this again does not prove that his actual death
occurred in that city.


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                               CHAPTER II

                       YOUTHFUL DAYS IN AUGSBURG

Birth of Hans Holbein the Younger—Forgeries of dates on early pictures
  attributed to him—Various portraits bearing on the question of the
  year of his birth—His early life in Augsburg—The family house on the
  Vorderer Lech—Early training in his father’s studio—Hans
  Burgkmair—Augsburg and the decorative arts.


NO absolutely conclusive proof has yet been discovered of the exact date
of the birth of Hans Holbein the Younger. For years the question was
complicated by more than one forgery of dates and signatures on certain
pictures in Augsburg, and by spurious amplifications made in the modern
copies taken from certain entries in the annals of the convent of St.
Catherine. Owing to these forgeries, Dr. Woltmann, in the first edition
of his book,[66] advanced the opinion that Holbein was born in 1495; but
before the publication of the first volume of the second edition of his
work, in 1874, these inscriptions and entries had been proved to be
falsifications, and he then altered the date to 1497,[67] and this is
now generally accepted as correct. Equal doubt existed at one time as to
the place of his birth. Among earlier writers, Carel van Mander (1604)
and Patin (1676) stated that he was born in Basel, while Matthis Quad
gave his birthplace as Grünstadt in the Palatinate. Sandrart (1675) was
the first biographer to name Augsburg, which modern research has shown
to be correct. The forgeries, no doubt, were the result of the discovery
that Holbein was not a Swiss, as had been usually supposed, and were
intended to supply convincing evidence that he was of German origin, and
a citizen of Augsburg, and also to furnish proof of the precocity of his
youthful genius.

[Sidenote: THE YOUNGER HOLBEIN’S BIRTH]

The chief forgery was an inscription on a picture in the Augsburg
Gallery (Nos. 74-77), dated 1512, which until 1845 had always been
rightly regarded as the work of the elder Holbein. This picture is one
of the four panels which originally formed the inner and outer sides of
the two shutters of an altar-piece or shrine painted for the convent of
St. Catherine.[68] The two inner panels represent the Martyrdom of St.
Catherine[69] and the Legend of St. Ulrich, the patron saint of
Augsburg; the outer ones the Crucifixion of St. Peter, and the Virgin
and St. Anne teaching the Infant Christ to walk. On the panel
representing St. Catherine the date 1512 occurs on a votive tablet
containing a Latin prayer to the saint, while on the old original frame
the name of the painter, “Hans Holbain,” the two last letters of the
surname now defaced, stands in gold letters.[70] It was upon the panel
representing the Virgin and St. Anne with the Infant Christ[71] that the
false inscription was placed. In this picture Mary and her Mother are
seated, each holding a hand of the youthful Saviour, who stands between
them on the bench making his first attempts to walk. Three small angels
hold up a curtain behind them, and at the top of the panel is a band of
rich Renaissance ornamentation, with two cupids blowing horns.[72] St.
Anne holds an open book on her lap with her left hand; and when, in
1854, the panel was separated from its obverse side and cleaned and
restored, a Latin inscription upon this book came to light, parts of
which were hidden by the hand of the saint. This inscription stated that
the picture had been painted “by order of the venerable and most pious
mother Veronica Welser—Hans Holbain, of Augsburg, at the age of 17.”[73]
Before this Dr. Waagen[74] and several other critics had attributed this
altar-piece to the younger Holbein because of supposed differences in
style between it and the greater number of the authenticated works by
the father. The newly-discovered inscription, which was accepted as
genuine by Dr. Woltmann and most German writers, was considered to
afford final proof of the truth of Waagen’s contention, though a few,
among them Herman Grimm, refused to credit it. It was not until after
the death of A. Eigner, the keeper of the Augsburg Gallery, and the
originator of the falsification, in November 1870, that it was possible
to apply a practical test to it, with the result that it proved to be a
modern forgery. Upon the application of turpentine the whole of the
inscription disappeared, and traces of a much earlier and badly-defaced
one were found beneath it. The discovery of its fictitious nature led to
further investigation, and the final abandonment of the date 1495 as the
year of the painter’s birth, while the picture is now rightly restored
to the older artist who painted it.

[Sidenote: THE YOUNGER HOLBEIN’S BIRTH]

Far more reliable proof as to the correct date of Holbein’s birth is
afforded by the fine silver-point drawing by the elder painter, in the
Berlin Museum, of the heads of his two sons (Pl. 6).[75] Between the
heads is written “Holbain,” and over that of the younger boy on the
right the word “Hanns,” with the age “14” above the name. Over the head
of the elder boy on the left the shortened name “Prosy” is still
legible. Probably the first syllable, “Am,” has become obliterated in
course of time, or it may be that the father merely set down his
nickname, “Prosy.”[76] The age of Ambrosius, which must also have been
added, is now entirely effaced. At the top of the sheet is placed the
date, which to-day is barely legible. Dr. Woltmann read it as “1511,”
which would give the birth-year of Hans as 1497, and this reading is now
generally accepted. The same writer imagined that he could trace the
figure “5” above the head of Ambrosius, which would make his age
fifteen, and thus one year older than his brother. In the drawing
itself, however, he appears to be at least two or three years the
senior. Dr. Willy Hes, in his recently-published book on Ambrosius
Holbein, states that this now almost obliterated age-figure is “17,” and
this is probably correct.[77] Both heads are full of character. The
younger boy, with round face, and straight hair falling on his forehead
and covering his ears, though not a child of much personal beauty, has a
pleasant, thoughtful expression. The forehead is a fine one, projecting
over the eyes, and showing, according to phrenologists, a
strongly-developed power of imagination, while the mouth is large and
determined. Ambrosius has more mobile features, and a mass of curling
hair. This drawing, which at one time was attributed to the younger
Hans, is one of the most masterly in the Berlin series, and shows how
largely the son’s great gift of lifelike portraiture was inherited from
his father.

[Sidenote: THE YOUNGER HOLBEIN’S BIRTH]

Dr. Hes also publishes a second drawing by the elder Holbein from the
Berlin collection,[78] which, as he was the first to point out,
undoubtedly represents the two boys at an earlier age. This silver-point
drawing, hitherto known merely as “Portraits of two Children,” and
bearing the inscription “Thomasins Sohn und Tochter” in a later hand,
represents the two boys in profile, facing one another. It is not of
such fine quality as the drawing of 1511, but the likeness to Ambrosius
and Hans is unmistakable. In this earlier study Dr. Hes considers the
age of the boys to be eight and five respectively. The further
researches of the same writer have resulted in his discovery of a third
likeness of the elder son from his father’s pencil, a beautiful drawing
of a curly-haired lad with looks cast downwards. It is among the
silver-point drawings of Hans Holbein the Elder in the Basel
collection,[79] and seems to be connected with two other works by the
Augsburg master, both also at Basel, for which, perhaps, it may have
served as a preliminary study. One is an Indian-ink study for a “Death
of Mary,” and the other a large oil-painting of the same subject (No.
301). In both the features of the youthful St. John, who bends over the
Virgin with palm-branch and long candle in either hand, are evidently
those of Ambrosius. This drawing[80] is dated 1508 on a slate hanging at
the head of the bed, so that the “St. John” represents the boy at the
age of about fourteen. A still more youthful figure, with long hair,
stands behind the wooden head of the bed, with clasped hands, gazing
down at the Virgin. It may be suggested, though Dr. Hes does not call
attention to it, that in this figure we have a third likeness of the
younger Hans. The resemblance to the heads in the two drawings is not as
close as in the case of Ambrosius, but is sufficiently so to permit the
conjecture that the father intended to introduce both his boys into the
picture to be painted from this study. The connection between these
drawings and the picture at Basel is not, however, very clear. In the
oil-painting[81] Mary is enthroned, the arrangement is entirely
different, and many more figures are introduced; but the figure and face
of the St. John are the same as in the Indian-ink drawing, though seen
from the opposite side. According to the Basel catalogue, however, this
picture was painted in 1501, and it does not appear very probable that
the painter would have used a boy of seven as his model for the Saint.
Behind St. John appears the curly head of a young man looking down; and
here again, though possibly only in the imagination of the present
writer, there is a faint resemblance to Hans the Younger. But this
cannot be so if the picture was painted in 1501, when Hans was only
four. The same figure of St. John occurs also in the “Death of
Mary,”[82] on one of the panels of the Kaisheimer altar-piece at Munich.
We have thus, in these drawings, together with the “Basilica of St.
Paul” picture of 1504, portraits of Ambrosius Holbein at the ages of
eight, ten, fourteen, and seventeen respectively, and of Hans when five,
seven, and fourteen,[83] and also, if the likeness in the Indian-ink
drawing of 1508 be allowed, at the age of eleven as well.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 6.


[Illustration:

  AMBROSIUS AND HANS HOLBEIN
  1511
  _Silver-point drawing_
  HANS HOLBEIN THE ELDER
  ROYAL PRINT ROOM, BERLIN
]

Further evidence as to his birth-date is afforded by two engravings, by
Vorsterman and Hollar respectively, and several miniatures of Holbein by
himself, some of the latter being only early copies, all of which are
dated 1543, and give the age as forty-five. Vorsterman’s print, which is
4¾ inches in diameter, shows no date on the background, but round the
outside is engraved “Ioannes Holbenius Pictor Regis Magnæ Britanniæ Sui
Cæculi Celeberrimus Anno 1543 Ætat: 45.” Hollar’s etching is also
circular. There is no lettering round the rim, but across the background
is inscribed: “HH. Æ. 45—AN^o 1543.” Below is the legend—“Vera Effigies
Johannis Holbeinii Basiliensis Pictoris et Deliniatoris rarissimi. Ipse
Holbeinius pinxit, Wenceslaus Hollar aqua forti æri insculpsit. Ex
Collec: Arundel: 1647.”[84] The original paintings from which these two
engravings were taken have not been discovered, but they were, no doubt,
two small roundels in oils.[85] In Carel van Mander’s time two such
portraits were in existence. He says, when speaking of Holbein’s works
then in Amsterdam: “At the house of Jacques Razet, the fine arts
amateur, I saw Holbein’s portrait, painted by himself very prettily and
neatly, in miniature, with a small margin round it; and in the
possession of Bartholomäus Ferreris, I saw a second, about the size of
the palm of my hand, excellently and neatly executed in flesh
tints.”[86] Sandrart, who was in Amsterdam between 1639 and 1645, gave
to the collector Le Blond a small round portrait of Holbein, and this is
probably identical with the one which Van Mander saw in the possession
of Razet. From Le Blond, who acted as agent for the Earl, it may well
have passed into the Arundel Collection before 1647, in which year
Hollar etched it. Vorsterman’s engraving is not dated, but it is
evidently taken from the same or an almost similar original, and this
artist engraved other pictures in the Arundel collection. According to
Walpole, the picture in the Earl’s possession was dated. He says,
quoting from one of the pocket-books of Richard Symonds:—“In the
Arundelian collection was a head of Holbein, in oil, by himself, most
sweet, dated 1543.”[87] The various miniatures of the painter, the
greater number of which are merely good and almost contemporary copies,
described in a later chapter,[88] have all, with one possible exception,
the same date, 1543, upon them, and, like the engravings, represent the
artist with a beard, wearing a black skull-cap, and, in those which show
the hands, in the act of painting. The exception is the fine miniature
in the Salting Collection, which is inscribed “ETATIS SVÆ 35,” but is
without date. It is almost certain, however, that this miniature does
not represent the painter.[89]

[Sidenote: HOLBEIN’S BIRTHPLACE]

The fact that the inscriptions on these various engravings and
miniatures agree as to the date and the age of the painter does not
necessarily prove that such date and age were placed by the artist
himself upon the original painting on which most of them are based; but
the probability is that such was the case, and that Holbein, therefore,
was forty-five years old in 1543. Unless, however, more definite
evidence is forthcoming in the future, the question must remain
undecided, though it is practically certain that his birth took place
either in 1497 or 1498.

Nothing is known of Holbein’s early life in Augsburg, where he spent the
greater part of his first seventeen years. It is not very likely that
his father took his family with him upon his painting expeditions to
Ulm, Frankfurt, and elsewhere, although he became a burgher of the
first-named place for a time. It was the custom at that period for a
painter to leave wife and children at home while he visited other
centres in search of work or to carry out commissions. The house in
which the young Hans is supposed to have been born is still standing in
Augsburg, and bears a recording tablet on its front. It is in the
Vorderer Lech, No. 496A, one of the quieter streets of the city to-day.
It is thus described by Mr. Davies: “The Vorderer Lech obtains its name
from the fact that a narrow channel of the Lech runs clear and green
down one side of the street, separating the roadway from the houses on
the north side. Access is gained to these houses in most instances by a
wooden bridge or gangway which leads the visitor under an archway in the
house itself. The house of the Holbeins, one of those little whitewashed
buildings with the comfortable red-tiled roofs which are so plentiful in
the city, has nothing to distinguish it beyond the tablet aforesaid. You
pass under the arch, and find on either side the doors (still retaining
their ancient hinges) and the open staircase which leads to the separate
tenements into which the house is now divided. Ascending the staircase
to the right, one finds the little room wherein tradition has it that
our Hans Holbein was born, the little kitchen over which his mother
presided, and the room which is traditionally regarded as the painting
room of Hans Holbein the elder. It looks pleasantly out over enclosed
gardens and picturesque roofs up towards the statelier buildings of the
Maximilianstrasse. The house is not luxurious, but may well have been a
house of no small comfort in the days when the Holbeins held it.”[90]

It is impossible to point to any work of this period which can be
accepted without question as from the hand of the younger Holbein alone.
Both he and his brother Ambrosius received a very thorough training in
their father’s workshop, and for the last few years before their
departure for Basel they must have taken an active though minor share in
the completion of the various commissions which fell to the elder
painter. Many attempts have been made to separate the work of the father
from that of his sons in such pictures as the “St. Catherine”
altar-piece panels of 1512, already described, and the more famous “St.
Sebastian” altar-piece in Munich; but the critics have never been able
to come to any settled agreement as to the particular parts of these
pictures, if any, which were the actual work of the younger Hans. It is
only possible to say with some certainty that he must have been employed
by his father on the less important portions of his altar-pieces, and
that such work would be carried out under the personal direction of the
elder painter, who alone was responsible for the general design and
composition, and the arrangement of the colour-scheme, if not for the
actual painting of the figures and the chief passages of the pictures.
It is not possible to allow, as some writers have done, that such
figures as the St. Elizabeth and St. Barbara on the shutters of the
Munich “St. Sebastian” altar-piece were conceived and carried out by the
younger Holbein independently of his father, although he may have shared
to some small extent in the actual painting of the panels. They display
a more advanced technique, and an art in all ways more matured, than is
to be found in the earliest independent work of Holbein’s first Basel
period.

[Sidenote: THE DECORATIVE ARTS IN AUGSBURG]

In his father’s studio Holbein obtained a very complete grounding in all
the technical processes of his art, and was encouraged to develop that
extraordinary gift for portraiture which he had largely inherited. The
family seems to have been so frequently hard-pressed for money that the
two boys would be obliged, at as early an age as possible, to begin to
work seriously for a living, and in this way would gain much useful
practical knowledge and facility in the handling of brush and pencil. In
other respects Holbein’s art was apparently more strongly influenced by
the example of Hans Burgkmair, who was some twenty-five years his
senior, than by that of his own father, and more particularly in his
ready assimilation of the newer methods and aspirations springing from
the Italian Renaissance, which afterwards became so perfectly blended in
his painting with those older forms and conceptions of the Germanic
school of the fifteenth century, in which he was first trained in the
elder Holbein’s workshop. Burgkmair returned from Italy about 1508, full
of enthusiasm for the new movement, and his example must have acted as
an inspiration to Holbein’s budding genius. Not only in his pictures and
wall-paintings, but in his remarkable designs for woodcuts for the two
great works in his own honour projected by the Emperor Maximilian—the
“Weisskunig,” and the “Triumphal Procession”—Burgkmair exercised an
undoubted influence over his younger contemporary. A year or two later
in Basel Holbein’s art appears to have been affected to some extent,
though indirectly, by that of Hans Baldung Grien and Matthias Grünewald,
through the medium of some painter whose name so far has not been
traced.[91] Other causes, too, were at work in moulding him for his
future career. The city of Augsburg was exceptionally well fitted for
providing incentives to a young artist to develop his powers in many
directions. The practice of decorating the more important buildings of
the city and the mansions of its merchant-princes with wall-paintings
both within and without provided work for numerous artists, and in this
way, no doubt, Holbein first began to practise a form of art which a few
years later he was to carry to so high a pitch of excellence in Lucerne
and Basel. Numerous printers, too, were settled in the city, who
provided employment for many wood-engravers and designers of book
illustrations and ornamentation—the latter a form of art in which
Holbein was very busily engaged during the first ten years of his
residence in Switzerland. His skill, too, in making designs for workers
in gold and silver, in enamels and painted glass, must have received its
first encouragement in Augsburg, which was noted for its craftsmen.
Every branch of handicraft, indeed, was practised there. Its armourers,
headed by the great Kolman family, were celebrated throughout Europe,
while the Augsburg goldsmiths were equally famous for the artistic
excellence and fine workmanship of their productions. Among such masters
in their various arts the youthful Holbein moved, and it must have been
from personal intercourse with them that he gained his first knowledge
of design, and how it should be rightfully applied to the service of the
several decorative arts, and how best modified to suit the nature of the
materials used in each particular handicraft; and that he made the most
of his opportunities is proved by the fact that when, a few years later,
he started upon an independent career in Basel, the first works he
produced show him to have been even at that early age an almost complete
master of decorative design.


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                              CHAPTER III

                       FIRST YEARS IN SWITZERLAND

Departure of Hans and Ambrosius from Basel—The “Virgin and Child” of
  1514—The painted Table at Zürich—Their arrival in Basel—Heads of the
  Virgin and St. John—The “Cross-Bearing” at Karlsruhe—The five scenes
  from “Christ’s Passion” at Basel—Work for the Basel printers—Holbein’s
  first title-page—The marginal drawings to Erasmus’ “Praise of
  Folly”—The share of Ambrosius in these illustrations—The legend of the
  painter’s intemperance—The Schoolmaster’s Sign-Board—Double portrait
  of Jakob Meyer and his wife—The “Adam and Eve.”


THE fortunes of the Holbein family, never very brilliant, having become
still more precarious, if existing records are to be believed, the two
sons, now approaching manhood, resolved to seek employment farther
afield. Possibly in 1513, but more probably in the spring of 1514, they
turned their backs on Augsburg and set out for Switzerland. Whether
Basel was their objective from the beginning or whether they arrived
there more or less by chance, in the course of their wander-year, and
finding work plentiful, resolved to make it their headquarters, there is
no actual proof to show; but their uncle, Sigmund, had been settled in
Switzerland for some years,[92] and had established himself in good
practice in Berne, and this fact may have had something to do with the
resolve of the younger Holbeins to turn their faces in that direction.
The discovery of a little picture of the “Virgin and Child,” dated 1514,
in a small village near Constance, which is attributed to Hans, affords
some evidence that their departure from Augsburg took place in that
year; that they had reached Basel some time in the spring or early
summer of 1515 is proved by the existence of more than one authentic
work by the younger brother bearing that date. Not long afterwards the
father himself left Augsburg for Isenheim, near Gebweiler, in Alsace, at
no great distance from Basel, and, so far as is known, never returned to
his native city, so that the old home was finally broken up.

[Sidenote: THE “VIRGIN AND CHILD” OF 1514]

The small picture of the “Virgin and Child” (Pl. 7) was discovered in
the village of Rickenbach, near Constance, by Herr Anton Seder, and on
the sale of his collection in 1876 it was acquired for the Basel Gallery
(No. 302).[93] It came originally from the Maria Wallfahrts
(Pilgrimages) Church of Rickenbach. On the background of the panel, on
either side of the Virgin’s head, are two coats of arms, the one on the
left being that of the Von Botzheim family, and that on the right of the
family of Ycher von Beringen. The picture, therefore, is supposed to
have been ordered by Johann von Botzheim, canon of Constance, son of
Michael von Botzheim and Anna Ycher von Beringen.

The Virgin is shown to the knees, a seated figure, holding the Child in
her lap, upon whom she gazes with downcast eyes. She clasps him to her
with her left hand, the right hand being placed under his chin. Her
white dress of soft material is arranged in a multiplicity of small
folds, each carefully drawn, and is decorated with a band of gold
embroidery; the wide flowing sleeves are drawn in above and below the
elbow with similar bands, and resemble the sleeves in the “St. Barbara”
of the “St. Sebastian” altar-piece. The lower part of the dress is a
very dark blue, almost black. She wears a golden crown, and her fair
hair falls upon her shoulders, as in the famous Darmstadt “Madonna.” The
Child lies quietly in her arms, a somewhat sad expression on his face,
with his small toes curled up, both feet and hands being admirably
drawn. The background is a deep red, and over the Virgin’s head hangs a
festoon of laurel leaves, suspended from the painted framework which
surrounds the group. This framework represents white stone pillars, with
panels of black marble decorated with Renaissance ornamentation, and a
number of small naked putti, three on either side and seven on the top.
Some of these little winged angels salute the Virgin with trumpets,
others carry the instruments of Christ’s Passion, and four of them hold
small tablets for inscriptions. These delightfully natural little
figures are painted in an ivory tone and stand out well against the dark
background. The work is immature, but displays a very tender,
sympathetic feeling, and possesses very considerable attractions. The
colour-scheme, in which few tints are employed, is delicate and
harmonious, and indicates that the artist already possessed a true sense
of its possibilities. The type of the Virgin resembles that employed by
the elder Holbein in such pictures as the “Fountain of Life.” The
natural affection of mother for child is well expressed, both in the
downcast face and in the drawing of the hands with which she holds the
little one close to her.

On the plinth at the base of the picture is inscribed, in Roman
lettering: “Que virgo peperit virgoque permanet lactavit propriis
uberibus deum portantemque gerebat ulnis prona trementibus. M.D.XIIII.”
It is regarded as the earliest authentic work of the younger Hans, but
neither his signature nor his initials are now clearly distinguishable
upon it, and its authorship is not absolutely certain. The four small
tablets in the hands of the putti at one time held inscriptions. No
traces of them remain on the two on the right, but portions of those on
the left are still visible. On the upper one there appears to be part of
a Latin sentence and the remains of a date “151—.” On the right-hand
side of the lower one can still be deciphered some letters of a
three-lined inscription, in the top line “R.A.,” in the middle one
“C.A.” (Civis Augustanus), and in the bottom one the painter’s monogram.
To the writer this latter appears to resemble more closely that of
Ambrosius, “AH,” rather than that of Hans, “HH.” If this
supposition be correct, it would indicate that the elder brother was the
author of the picture, or, at least, that he had a share in the painting
of it. In style it resembles almost as closely the few known works by
Ambrosius as the earlier Basel works of Hans; indeed, in some ways, it
approaches more nearly to the elder brother’s art, as seen in his
drawings. In these there is a slight hesitancy and lack of decision in
the touch which is not met with in the younger Holbein’s work of the
same period. The tenderness of feeling displayed in the picture is also
to be found in such drawings by Ambrosius as the head of a young girl
inscribed “Anne,” in the Basel Gallery, while the putti have much in
common with those which bear the shields above the heads of his two
charming portraits of unknown boys, also at Basel. These putti, however,
have a still greater likeness to those so frequently used by his brother
Hans, as can be seen very plainly in the first title-page designed by
him a year or two later; indeed, the whole framework of the picture
recalls his handiwork. It may be suggested, therefore, that the
Rickenbach “Madonna” was painted, in part at least, by Ambrosius. The
two youths appear to have travelled together—though there is no absolute
proof of this—and it might be expected that any small commissions picked
up on the way would be given to the elder brother, who, again, may have
been assisted in carrying them out by his younger companion. Dr. Ganz
points out the close resemblances between this picture and a
silver-point drawing at Basel attributed to the two brothers.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 7.


[Illustration:

  VIRGIN AND CHILD
  1514
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: THE PAINTED TABLE AT ZURICH]

A work of a very different kind, the Painted Table at Zürich,[94] has
been regarded by some writers as the result of a commission received by
Hans Holbein during a halt in that town on his journey to Basel. This,
however, was not the case. It must have been painted after he had
settled in the latter place, for it was ordered on the occasion of the
marriage of Hans Baer, a citizen of Basel, with Barbara Brunner on the
24th June, 1515, either by Baer himself or by some friend of his as a
wedding present, and the coats of arms of the two families are
represented on it. Shortly afterwards the bridegroom left Basel for the
Italian wars, marching as standard-bearer with one of the mercenary
troops, and was killed at the battle of Marignano on the 14th of
September in the same year.

This large table-top is of wood, and oblong in shape, with a slab of
slate inserted in the centre. This broad wooden border or framework is
painted with hunting, fishing, jousting, and other outdoor scenes. One
of the longer sides is occupied with a number of mounted knights with
long lances engaged in a tournament, attended by their squires and
servants. The action is very spirited, and several of the individual
figures are finely conceived. The corresponding side is devoted to
hunting scenes, including the chase of the stag, the wild boar, the
hare, and the bear. The last-named animal is represented in the act of
overturning a number of bee-hives. The decoration of one of the end
borders shows the banks of a river with a number of men and women
engaged in fishing, using both the rod and nets of great variety. In the
meadow at the back a table is spread for a meal, and two women are
cooking at a fire. On the other end is depicted a lady and gentleman out
hawking, with the branches of the surrounding trees crowded with birds
of many kinds, and rabbits playing on the grass, and, on the left, some
game is shown in progress, in which young men are capturing girls in
nets. The slate slab in the middle contains two principal subjects. One
of them represents the old legend of “St. Nobody,” the unfortunate
mythical personage usually accused of being the author of all breakages
and accidents in German households, and incapable of defending himself
from such false accusations, and, for this reason, represented by
Holbein with a padlocked mouth, and surrounded by broken crockery and
other objects of daily use. A comic poem on “Nobody,” by Ulrich von
Hutten, published in Basel at about the time the table was painted,
suggested this subject, and some lines from it are inscribed on a
ribbon-scroll above the dejected saint. The second subject is also
humorous, and shows a pedlar sleeping by the roadside, quite unconscious
of a troop of monkeys who have plundered his pack. Over the rest of the
surface a number of small scattered objects have been painted, as though
left there by the owner. These formed a part of the joke, and were
painted with a realism intended to deceive, and with the expectation
that the spectator would attempt to pick them up. Among them are a pair
of spectacles, a seal, a quill-pen, and penknife, scissors, a carnation,
and a folded letter with a seal, round the margin of which part of the
painter’s signature, “HANS HO,” can still be deciphered, though the coat
of arms itself is not that of the Holbein family. A circle in the centre
of the table contains the armorial bearings of Hans Baer and his wife.

In the year 1633 the table was presented to the State Library of Zürich,
where it was held in high estimation throughout the seventeenth century.
Both Sandrart and Patin saw it there. The former describes it at some
length. “In particular,” he says, “there is a large table which is
worthy of inspection, entirely painted by our Hans Holbein the younger,
on which, in artistic oil colours, he has represented the so-called
Saint (Nobody) sitting sadly on a broken tub, his mouth fastened up with
a great lock. Around him torn old books are lying, earthen and metal
vessels, glass pans, dishes, and various other utensils, but all broken
and destroyed. An open letter, on which Holbein’s name stands, is so
naturally represented, that many people have seized it by mistake,
thinking it is a real one. The rest of this table is ornamented with
various hunting scenes and foliage.” Patin speaks of it as “a square
table, about five spans broad, on which are depicted dancing, fishing,
hunting, fish-spearing, represented for the most part playfully.” In
spite of this praise, in course of time it became neglected, and finally
disappeared, and was not heard of again until 1871, when it was
discovered by Professor Salomon Vögelin, buried under thick dust and a
mass of old papers, and in a very damaged condition.[95] It now forms
one of the chief treasures of the Zürich Library, but it has been so
seriously injured by the neglect and ill-usage to which it was subjected
for so long a time, that even after more than one careful attempt at
restoration, much of Holbein’s original and entertaining work has
permanently disappeared.

[Sidenote: ARRIVAL OF HOLBEIN IN BASEL]

Although the exact date of the arrival of the two brothers in Basel is
not known, there is evidence to show that they were busily at work there
throughout the year 1515. Possibly it may have been their original
intention to make a halt in that city of only some months’ duration; but
they found it so profitable a field for their labours that they
determined to remain there permanently. Basel, with its famous
University, was at that time the home and refuge of many of the ablest
thinkers and writers of the day, and it opened its gates freely to all
whose advanced opinions made Germany and other parts of Europe
undesirable as places of residence. Its many printing-presses were
already celebrated, and the printers and publishers found constant
employment both for learned scholars who edited for them new editions of
the classics and the fathers of the Church, and for a large body of
draughtsmen, designers, and wood-cutters who were engaged in
illustrating their publications with portraits, pictures, title-pages,
and innumerable initial letters and other ornaments. This well-paid and
regular work which the city offered to all artists of ability was, no
doubt, the real cause which induced the two brothers to become citizens
of Basel.

Among the earliest works produced there by Hans were two small heads of
saints now in the Basel Gallery (Nos. 308, 309), apparently intended to
represent the Virgin Mary and St. John the Evangelist. (Pl. 8).[96] The
Virgin is wearing a crown, and her long straight hair falls upon her
shoulders, as in the Rickenbach “Virgin and Child” of the previous year.
The type of face, too, is the same as in that picture, and is seen again
in the “Adam and Eve” picture of 1517. St. John is represented as a
beardless young man with curly hair, and here again the head closely
resembles that of the man in the “Adam and Eve.” Each has a large golden
nimbus, which stands out against a plain pale-blue background. These
small panels are pleasant in colour, and carefully painted, but
otherwise afford few indications of the artist’s future greatness. They
formed part of the Amerbach collection, and in the inventory are
described as the young Holbein’s first works. (“Item einer heiligen
iungen und iungfrawen köpflin mit patenen vf holz mit ölfarb klein H.
Holbein erste arbeit.”)


                           VOL. I., PLATE 8.


[Illustration:

  THE VIRGIN MARY
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Illustration:

  ST. JOHN
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: EARLY “PASSION” PICTURES IN BASEL]

The earliest work of Hans which is both signed and dated is the small
panel in the Karlsruhe Gallery (No. 64), representing “Christ Bearing
the Cross,” a composition crowded with small figures.[97] In the centre
Christ has fallen to his knees under the weight of the Cross, and is
urged forward by the brutal soldiery, clad in the costume of the
mercenary landsknechte of Holbein’s day. On the right stands St.
Veronica holding the handkerchief, and behind her the mounted Centurion,
with a small dog running by his horse’s feet, both animals very
inadequately rendered. On the left is a group consisting of the weeping
Virgin, St. John, Simon the Cyrenean, who is helping to raise the Cross,
and Joseph of Arimathea. Behind the chief characters is a crowd of armed
men and spectators issuing from the gate of a town, and in the
background a hilly landscape with distant buildings. It is signed “H.H.
1515,” and was at one time attributed to the elder Holbein, and is still
considered to be from his hand by some writers. It is so described in
the first volume of the second edition of Woltmann’s book, but in the
second volume he reverses his opinion, and modern criticism is mainly in
agreement with this. Though in many ways a crude performance, it appears
to be an undoubted work of the younger painter, conceived under the
influence of his father. The figure of the stumbling Christ, the action
of Simon, and of the soldiers striking at Christ are all reminiscent
both of the “Cross-bearing” panel in the “Passion” series by the elder
Holbein in the gallery of Prince Carl von Fürstenberg at Donaueschingen,
(Nos. 43-54),[98] and of the similar subject in the Vetter votive
picture of the year 1499 in the Augsburg Gallery (No. 61). Upon the back
of the Karlsruhe picture are the badly-damaged remains of a second
“Passion” subject, the “Crowning with Thorns,” also by the younger Hans,
first published by Dr. Paul Ganz in his recent book, which also has much
in common with the same two works by the elder Holbein.[99] The work,
again, is closely akin to the five scenes from “Christ’s Passion” in the
Basel Gallery (Nos. 303-307), which are certainly among the very
earliest productions of the younger Hans. Two of these, “The Last
Supper” and “The Scourging of Christ,” belonged to Bonifacius Amerbach,
and are the best of the set, the remaining three having been acquired in
1836 at a sale in Basel. They are painted on canvas, instead of on
panel, an unusual method for pictures of any value in those days, and
for this reason it is supposed that they were ordered for some special
purpose, such as the decoration of a church during Holy Week, after
which they would be rolled up and put away until wanted again in the
following year. The hasty execution which they betray possibly arises
from the same cause. They may have been wanted in a hurry, and the pay
for them was perhaps too small to allow of careful, elaborate work,
which, indeed, would not be necessary, considering the temporary purpose
for which they were intended. They have also been taken as affording
indications that the young painters did not immediately on their arrival
set up an independent workshop of their own, but entered for a period
the service of some Basel artist as journeymen painters for a weekly
wage.

The composition of these “Passion” pictures, it is urged, is too
elaborate to be the unaided invention of the two young men, and it is
therefore assumed that the designs were provided by some other painter,
and that Hans and Ambrosius carried them out under his instructions. The
name of Hans Herbster, whose portrait by the elder brother[100] is now
in the Basel Gallery (No. 293) has been suggested in this connection. On
the other hand, although it is not easy at the first glance to recognise
the workmanship of Hans in these coarsely-painted pictures, it is
equally difficult to point to any one among the older painters then in
Basel who, judged by existing works, was capable of producing
compositions of this importance; in any case, the colour-scheme was
probably Holbein’s own, as well as the vigorous expression given to the
heads, which, however, in some of the subjects is exaggerated to the
verge of caricature. The grotesquely ugly and brutal executioners in
“The Scourging” have much in common with such works of Hans Holbein the
Elder as the Passion scenes at Donaueschingen, and it may very well be
that these five pictures were the unaided productions of Hans and his
brother, based upon the knowledge of similar paintings by their father,
in the execution of which they had in all probability given him
assistance, and that they did not renew their prentice days in
Herbster’s or any other workshop, but started as independent painters
from the first.

In the “Last Supper” (No. 303) (Pl. 9),[101] the meal is laid on two
tables placed at right angles, with Christ sitting at the angle, and he
is represented in the act of passing the bread across the table to
Judas, who, dressed in yellow, is half rising from his seat. The supper
takes place in an open loggia or courtyard, the background being filled
with archways and openings through which the deep blue sky is seen. In
the distance on the right is a representation of the Washing of Peter’s
feet. In the night scene on the Mount of Olives (No. 304),[102] the
kneeling Christ lifts up his arms with a passionate movement. The angel,
a much fore-shortened figure in red draperies, flies head foremost from
the skies bearing the host. Christ and St. Peter, who is asleep in the
left foreground, are darkly clad. The background, with its tall, gloomy
trees, is illuminated by the torches and lanterns of the soldiers
entering the garden, while the light of the coming dawn is just breaking
along the horizon.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 9.


[Illustration:

  THE LAST SUPPER
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: EARLY “PASSION” PICTURES IN BASEL]

The “Arrest in the Garden” (No. 305)[103] is a composition crowded with
figures, and is full of movement and noise. In the centre Judas is
kissing Christ, who is surrounded by armed men; and on the left Peter,
with uplifted sword, has just struck off the ear of Malchus, who,
screaming with pain, and flinging one arm over his head, has fallen
prone on the ground, while Christ reaches down his hand to heal the
wound. Clever use is made of the spears, maces, and other upraised
weapons of the soldiery, which are seen against the dark sky. Many of
the movements of the figures are awkward and ugly, and the faces of the
men who are dragging Christ away are repulsive and exaggerated, but the
general effect produced is an impressive one, and the grouping is
noteworthy as the work of a youth of seventeen or eighteen.

The picture of the “Handwashing” (306)[104] is the finest of the series,
more particularly in the left-hand half of the composition, which
represents Pilate in the act of washing his hands in a golden dish. He
is clad in dark green, with an ermine cape over his shoulders, and an
Eastern turban, and is seated on a throne or daïs with pillars of
coloured marbles and an arch filled in with a shell design. Two
attendants, one in yellow and black, hold the basin and pour out the
water from a golden ewer. On the right, Christ, in dark blue and crowned
with thorns, is led forth to execution. In this picture the colour is
less crude and violent than in most of the others of the series, and in
technical achievement, more particularly in the draughtsmanship of the
group of Pilate and his attendants, is somewhat higher.

In the “Scourging” (No. 307) (Pl. 10),[105] Christ, a nude figure, is
bound round the waist to a pillar in the prison, his uplifted arms being
fastened to an iron ring above his head. His body is scored with wounds
from the lashes of his executioners, his head falls in agony upon his
shoulder, and one leg is dragged across the other in the extremity of
his pain. The action of his torturers is of the utmost violence, and
they jeer at him as they rain heavy blows upon his defenceless body. The
scene to be depicted was a brutal and ruthless one, and to drive it home
to the spectators, Holbein spared no details or efforts to make it as
brutal in paint as it was in deed. The agony of Christ is well
expressed, and considerable knowledge is displayed in the drawing of the
body. The bright garments of the executioners form a striking though
harsh contrast to the pale flesh tints of Christ and the stone wall of
the cell, through the doorway of which on the right Pilate is gazing at
his victim. Though by no means faultless, this picture has qualities,
both of expression and of execution, which are remarkable when the age
of the painter is remembered, qualities which already give indications,
however faint, of the coming greatness of the master. This picture, and
the one of the “Last Supper,” are noted in the Amerbach inventory as
among Holbein’s first works.

Taken as a whole, the series displays numerous reminiscences of the art
of the father, sufficiently so, indeed, to make needless the supposition
that in the painting of them the artist was assisted by some older
practitioner of Basel. They possess considerable dramatic power, and the
draughtsmanship, though in parts faulty, is often excellent, the signs
of hasty manipulation, which are very apparent, being due, no doubt, to
the fact that the pictures were intended to serve merely as processional
standards or temporary “stations of the Cross”; but the colour
throughout is for the most part crude and harsh. It is difficult, if not
impossible, to determine how much of them was the work of Hans and how
much that of his brother Ambrosius. The three which do not form part of
the Amerbach collection were regarded at the time of their acquisition
by the Basel Gallery as the handiwork of Holbein the Elder, but this
ascription has been long since abandoned. Mr. Davies is of opinion that
the “Pilate Washing his Hands” is entirely the work of the younger Hans,
and that “The Scourging” is almost wholly by him, while he gives “The
Agony in the Garden” and “The Arrest” to Ambrosius alone.[106] One is on
safer ground, however, in confining oneself to the assertion that the
pictures were produced in the common workshop of the two youths, and
that both of them may have had something to do with the painting of all
five canvases, but that the predominant hand was that of the younger
brother.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 10.


[Illustration:

  THE SCOURGING OF CHRIST
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: EXAGGERATED TYPES]

These pictures were painted at some date between 1515 and Holbein’s
departure for Lucerne in 1517, and are based largely upon the knowledge
obtained in his father’s workshop in Augsburg, before the short visit to
Lombardy produced so rapid an awakening of his genius. Dr. Ganz places
them in the last-named year, and draws attention to the strong
similarity of many of the motives to those of Dürer’s “Little Passion”
series of engravings, thus showing that the younger artist must have
borrowed from them freely.[107] It is probable that the set was
originally a larger one, and that one or two of them are now missing.
There is an elaborate pen drawing on a dark grey ground, washed with
Indian ink and heightened with white, in the Basel Gallery, which is
very closely allied to these canvas pictures of the Passion. It
represents the “Bearing of the Cross,” under the weight of which Christ
has fallen on his hands and knees.[108] He is in the centre of a body of
soldiers and callous onlookers, who have just issued from the gate, the
procession deploying along the outer wall of the town with its circular
watch-tower. The head of the procession turns at a sharp angle round the
corner of the wall. Christ looks up with his face contorted with agony,
while one of the leading soldiers strikes at him with a heavy club, and
a second pulls violently at the ropes in order to make him rise again.
Behind them a third soldier bears the ladder, while a fourth man is
carrying huge nails and the various implements to be used in the
Crucifixion. The head of Christ is evidently based upon Dürer’s
representation in his “Passion” series. In the brutality and
grotesqueness of the faces of the soldiery and the lack of expression of
those of the accompanying mob, many of whom do not even glance towards
the prostrate figure, this drawing closely resembles both the Karlsruhe
“Cross-bearing” of 1515, which must have been painted on the journey to
or shortly after Holbein’s arrival in Basel, and the Passion series just
described. In order to bring home to the spectator the cruelty of the
scene depicted, and his detestation of it, he makes use of violent
movement and brutal types, and even in the head of our Lord the agonized
expression is so pronounced that it becomes painful to look upon. After
he had gained wider experience of the art of the great painters of
Northern Italy, Holbein gradually rid himself of these cruder and more
vehement methods, and depicted the pitiful story by means of more
natural and less exaggerated types, helped by a deeper insight into
character. During these early years he was often employed in painting
subjects from the “Passion,”[109] and the gradual change in his point of
view and the maturing of his art can be seen very plainly in them, from
the early Karlsruhe panel and the canvas series and the drawing just
described to the great altar-piece in eight scenes in the Basel Gallery,
and, finally, in the masterly set of ten designs for glass-painting in
the same collection, in which the fruits of his Italian experience are
seen to so great an advantage. In the “Cross-bearing” scene in the large
altar-piece, as well as in the later design of the same subject for
painted glass, the procession issues from a similar gateway and passes
along walls with the same round tower shown in the earlier examples. In
the former, too, the procession turns sharply to the left, as in the
Basel drawing, while the same type of face in the soldiery occurs in
all, but gradually becoming less exaggerated and truer to life. The
ill-treatment shown to Christ, though still brutal, is less violent in
its exhibition, and the Saviour, though faltering under his burden, has
not fallen to the ground. In the altar-piece his face is bent downwards,
and cast into shadow by the Cross beneath which he staggers, so that his
agony is hidden, while in the glass design the face, though agonized,
has a spiritual beauty which is not to be found in the drawing now in
question. This latter is undated, but Dr. Ganz places it in the year
1517, and he considers that it is most probably Holbein’s design for a
picture, now lost, which originally formed one of the early “Passion”
series on canvas.[110] Holbein drew this figure of Christ over again for
the very beautiful woodcut of which only the single impression, in the
Amerbach collection, is known. This woodcut,[111] which, from the beauty
of its cutting, must be from the hand of Lützelburger, recalls Dürer
even more strongly than the drawing, from which it differs slightly.
Christ, who has fallen to his knees, has one arm round the bar of the
Cross, the other hand resting on the stony ground. A small twisted tree,
almost leafless, is on the right, and the background consists of a
cloudy sky. The head, with its crown of thorns, long hair falling on the
shoulders, its open mouth, and the drops of bloody sweat on the brow, is
a wonderful realisation of deep suffering nobly borne.

[Sidenote: THE “PRAISE OF FOLLY” DRAWINGS]

Both Hans and Ambrosius appear to have obtained regular employment from
the Basel printers and publishers very shortly after their arrival in
the town, but more particularly from Johann Froben, one of the best
known of them all, who was then issuing, among many fine books, numerous
works from the pen of Erasmus. The earliest work of this nature which
Holbein produced was a title-page in the form of a Renaissance arch with
a number of small cupids, one blowing a horn, others with spears, two
holding the flat cartoon or roll of parchment in the centre reserved for
the lettering of the title-page, and two others supporting a shield with
Froben’s trade-mark, the caduceus (Pl. 11).[112] This appears to have
been cut towards the end of 1515, and did service in several books
issued by Froben during the next few years, including More’s _Utopia_ in
1518. Two small panels at the top contain the artist’s signature, “Hans
Holb.” This interesting specimen of Holbein’s youthful skill in design
and other examples of his earlier work for book illustrations are dealt
with in a later chapter. Another design of the year 1515 formerly
attributed to Hans, and afterwards to Ambrosius, was the coat of arms of
Petrus Wenck, painted in gouache on parchment, in the Matriculation Book
of the Basel University, of which Wenck was rector in that year. It
represents a man in Roman armour holding a large shield with a coat of
arms in each hand. It is reproduced by Dr. Willy Hes in his recent book
on Ambrosius Holbein, Plate xxxviii., who shows that it is not the work
of either brother.

By far the most important of Holbein’s surviving works of the year 1515
is the series of drawings, eighty-two in all, which he made on the
margins of a copy of Erasmus’ _Encomium Moriæ_, or “Praise of Folly.”
Erasmus paid his first visit to Basel in 1513, in order to make
arrangements with Froben for the publication of his _Adagia_ and his
edition of the New Testament. The two men became close friends, and
Erasmus, who from that time spent some months every year in Basel,
always stayed in Froben’s house during these annual visits until 1521,
when he made Basel his permanent home. This biting and jesting satire on
the follies of mankind, written in Latin, with its punning title on the
name of Sir Thomas More, was composed by Erasmus, according to his
preface, during his journeys on horseback, and was done in order to
beguile the weariness of the way. It was published by Froben in 1514,
and Holbein’s pictorial commentary upon it was drawn in a copy of the
first edition, now preserved in the Basel Gallery.[113] The little
pictures have been done with the pen on the broad margins by the side of
the passages of the text to which they refer. All that is known of the
history of the book is that it possibly belonged at one time to Erasmus
himself, and afterwards to the theologian and schoolmaster Oswald
Molitor, or Myconius. At a somewhat later date Basilius Amerbach, son of
Erasmus’ friend, Bonifacius Amerbach, who continued to add to the
collection of Holbein’s works formed by his father, obtained it with
some difficulty, thanks to the kindly intervention of the painter Jakob
Clauser, from Daniel Wieland, the town-clerk of Mühlhausen, who was very
loath to part with it. Molitor’s ownership of the book is proved by an
inscription on the title-page: “Est Osualdi Molitoris Lucerni”; and the
earlier ownership of Erasmus by a second inscription on the second
title-page, also in Molitor’s handwriting: “Hanc moriam pictam decem
diebus ut oblectaretur in ea Erasmus habuit,” which shows that the
marginal illustrations were completed in ten days, and that Erasmus
derived much entertainment from them.[114] Molitor was living in Basel
until 1516, and afterwards in Zürich and his native city, Lucerne,
returning finally to Basel in 1532. It has been suggested that on the
death of Erasmus, of whom Molitor was a friend and admirer, he received
the book from Bonifacius Amerbach, who was the philosopher’s residuary
legatee, and made a point of presenting valuable mementos to a number of
Erasmus’ closest friends. The book contains annotations in Molitor’s
handwriting, and from one of them we learn that the illustrations were
done in 1515.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 11.


[Illustration:

  HOLBEIN’S EARLIEST TITLE-PAGE
  First used in 1515
  _From a copy of More’s “Utopia” in the British Museum_
]

[Sidenote: THE “PRAISE OF FOLLY” DRAWINGS]

It has been suggested, too, that the drawings were made by Holbein at
the personal request of Erasmus, which is not very probable; and again,
that Molitor gave the commission, and selected the passages to be
illustrated, which is much more likely, and when finished presented the
book to his friend, and that it was for this reason that Amerbach made a
point of giving it back to him on the death of Erasmus. The book has
also been taken as a proof that Holbein had gained a good knowledge of
Latin in his school days, and that he selected his own passages for the
pictures; but the few Latin inscriptions on his paintings do not
indicate much proficiency in that language. The supposition that Molitor
was the prime mover in the matter, and that it was done for him
personally, and not as a gift to be presented to Erasmus, is by far the
most probable; for, as stated above, he was in Basel at the time, and
this would account for Holbein’s apparent knowledge of the language in
which the book was written. On the other hand, the pen drawings in more
than one instance do not so much illustrate the incidents and sense of
the text, as isolated sentences and phrases which appear to have caught
the fancy of the artist, and, therefore, are not likely to have been
selected for pictorial comment by a learned student of the book. In
recent years the drawings have been subjected to a searching examination
and comparison, and Dr. Ganz was the first to point out that it is
impossible to accept the whole of them as by Hans Holbein.[115]
Considerable variations in style are to be noted, and it is now held,
and with good reason, that while the more important share of the work
was due to Hans, not only did Ambrosius contribute a certain number of
the drawings, but that a third artist, some unknown Basel painter of the
school of Urs Graf, and possibly even a fourth, also had a hand in it.
One of these drawings, which represents Jupiter seizing the naked Ate by
the hair, and flinging her across his knees in order to chastise her
with his thunderbolts, bears letters which until recently were regarded
as the initials of Ambrosius, though not his usual monogram; but this
inscription has now been correctly read by Dr. Hes as the word “ATEN,”
and refers to the subject, and not to the author of the drawing.[116]

The two brothers must have been in constant communication with Froben,
and for the purposes of the work they undertook for him would pay many
visits to his house “zum Sessel” in the Fischmarkt, where Erasmus also
had his headquarters, and where, no doubt, they first made his
acquaintance. The illustrations to the “Praise of Folly” may thus have
been begun in some idle moment in a copy of the book found lying about
in Froben’s office, to pass the time while waiting for proofs or
instructions in connection with work in hand; and having been thus
begun, the interest would grow, and the printer himself would encourage
its completion, and, perhaps, show it to Erasmus himself more than once
during the short period of ten days in which the eighty-two drawings
were accomplished. Any lack of profound Latinity on the part of the
brothers, who in turn jotted down their fancies on the book’s margin,
may have been overcome by Froben himself translating passages of the
book to them.

The sketches[117] are drawn freely and rapidly, without any attempt at
elaboration or such careful draughtsmanship as would have been necessary
had they been a commission or intended in the end to serve as woodcut
illustrations in some future edition of the text. Many of them are witty
and to the point, and show that Holbein had a true sense of humour. The
wit is, perhaps, not so biting as that of Erasmus himself, but it
matches in character the satirical humour and popular tone of the book.
The contributions of Hans are both the most numerous and the best, and
some of them, in the freedom and certainty of their draughtsmanship,
show a distinct advance in his art.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 12.


[Illustration:

  MARGINAL DRAWINGS IN A COPY OF THE “PRAISE OF FOLLY”
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: THE “PRAISE OF FOLLY” DRAWINGS]

The opening picture represents Folly, as a young woman in cap and bells,
mounting the pulpit in order to sing her own praises to a listening
world, and in the concluding one she is seen descending the same steps
with a gesture of farewell, leaving a gaping and astonished audience
behind her (Pl. 12 (1)). One of the most beautiful of the drawings,
representing Penelope at her loom (Pl. 12 (2)), is now given to
Ambrosius, but it bears so close a resemblance to the style of some of
the figures in the “Dance of Death” woodcuts, that it is difficult to
believe that it is not by Hans.[118] Some of the representations of
single figures, such as the Pope under a high canopy (Pl. 12 (3)), the
Cardinal (Pl. 12 (4)), the Bishop (Pl. 12 (5)), and the Astronomer, are
drawn with greater care, and show a more serious point of view, than is
anywhere disclosed in the book itself. In these Holbein is seen at his
best, and also in the charming little picture of nuns kneeling with
lighted candles before a picture or carving of the Virgin and Child,
which calls to mind more than one of his later designs for painted glass
(Pl. 12 (6)). In several of them, such as the group of men engaged in an
animated theological discussion, and that of the young man looking back
so intently at the fair damsel who comes after him that, without
noticing it, he has stepped into a basketful of eggs belonging to an old
market woman, there is a landscape background of town and river and
distant Alps, charmingly though hastily indicated (Pl. 13 (1)). Among
the classical allusions there are comic representations of the slaying
of Niobe’s children,[119] of Vulcan splitting the skull of Jupiter,[119]
of Atlas staggering under the weight of the world,[119] of Polyphemus
dancing, and of Hercules quieting Cerberus by means of a sausage.[119]
Nicolas de Lyra is represented reading the Scriptures, and at the same
time playing a small hand-organ, in allusion to his name (Pl. 13 (2)).
King Solomon stands pointing to his open book (Pl. 13 (3)), and another
excellent little drawing is that of the young courtier or nobleman (Pl.
13 (4)). The sketch of Folly talking to his puppet (Pl. 13 (5)) is one
of the illustrations now given to the unknown artist who collaborated
with the Holbeins.

The drawing illustrating the phrase, “the golden collar of princes,” is
an unmistakable portrait of the Emperor Maximilian. A portrait, much
less easily recognised, is that of the writer of the book. In one
passage Erasmus has mentioned his own name, and opposite to it Holbein
drew the philosopher seated at a desk in his study, in scholar’s cap and
gown, engaged in writing the _Adagia._ Through an arched opening is seen
a view of mountain and lake (Pl. 13 (6)). To make certain that there
should be no doubt as to whom the portrait represented, Holbein has
written the name “Erasmus” at the top of the arch. Molitor, in a
marginal note, states that when Erasmus came to this drawing, in which
he is depicted as a comparatively youthful man, he exclaimed, “Ohé! Ohé!
if Erasmus still looked like this, he would certainly take a wife.” The
name “Holbein” occurs over one of the other sketches, which represents a
fat and coarse-looking carouser seated at table, draining a bottle of
wine, and at the same time fondling a woman seated by him, and
illustrating the passage from Horace which refers to “a fat and splendid
pig from the herd of Epicurus” (Pl. 13 (7)). This is said to have been
written by the sage himself in playful revenge for the introduction of
his own portrait among the foolish of mankind.[120]

This somewhat primitive jest appears to be the sole foundation for the
statements of several of Holbein’s earlier biographers that he was of a
gross and sensual character, too fond of the wine-cup, and, in
consequence, lived in poverty. The worst offender in this way was
Charles Patin, a French physician who had settled in Basel in the
seventeenth century, after having been forced to leave Paris on account
of some misbehaviour. He was the first to bring this accusation against
the painter, and later writers copied him without verifying his
statements. Van Mander and Sandrart, who repeated all the gossip they
could collect, do not allude to this supposed weakness in the painter’s
character. Patin’s misrepresentations occur in a short life of Holbein,
filled with inaccuracies, which he wrote as a preface to an edition of
the _Praise of Folly_, issued in Basel in 1676, in which, for the first
time, these marginal illustrations were published, being engraved for
the book by C. Merian from copies of the originals made by W. Stettler.
They at once became highly popular, and various editions followed, both
on the Continent and in England. Patin evidently allowed his imagination
to run away with him in his interpretation of this somewhat feeble joke
made at Holbein’s expense. There is absolutely no foundation for the
legend thus set going; the painter’s whole career, the high perfection
of his technical powers, and the extraordinary amount of work he
accomplished in his short life are more than sufficient in themselves to
refute it.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 13.


[Illustration:

  MARGINAL DRAWINGS IN A COPY OF THE “PRAISE OF FOLLY”
  BASEL GALLERY
]

There is a small portrait in the Grand-Ducal Museum at Darmstadt, dated
1515, at one time in the possession of the Von Schinz family of Zürich,
which represents, at half-length, a young man in scarlet dress and cap,
with long fair hair falling over the ears, the head standing out
strongly against a bright-blue background.[121] It is inscribed across
the bottom with the date between the initials H.H., and until recently
has been considered by most writers to be a work of the younger Hans,
and was reproduced as his by Herr Knackfuss. In 1904 Dr. Hes first drew
attention to its close similarity to the work of Ambrosius, and most
modern criticism is in agreement with him. It bears, in style and touch,
a far stronger likeness to the art of Ambrosius than to that of Hans,
and has much in common with the portrait of Hans Herbster in the Basel
Gallery (No. 293), painted by him in the following year,[122] which,
when it was in Lord Northbrook’s collection, was regarded as from the
brush of his brother; and still more so to the two portraits of unknown
boys, also in the Basel Gallery (Nos. 294-5). There is, indeed, a fine
drawing of the head of an unknown man by Ambrosius, belonging to the
Basel Kunstverein, which as a portrait bears so strong a likeness to the
Darmstadt picture that it might almost be regarded as a study for
it.[123] In the drawing the position is reversed, the subject being
turned to the right instead of to the left, but the dress and hair are
the same, and, judging from the technique, both are from the same hand.
The inscription on the Darmstadt portrait is possibly of a somewhat
later date than the painting, and there are faint indications of an
earlier one beneath it. When this earlier one was replaced or renewed,
the initial of the Christian name may have been changed from A. to H. In
his book Dr. Woltmann included the portrait among the works of Hans
Holbein the Elder, but modern criticism does not follow him in this.

[Sidenote: THE SCHOOLMASTER’S SIGN-BOARD]

At this early period of his career the young painter was willing to
undertake any piece of work, however humble, that came to his hand.
Thus, in 1516, he painted a sign-board for some Basel schoolmaster to
hang outside his house (Pl. 14). The panel was painted on both sides,
the upper and larger portion of each being filled with a long
inscription in German stating that the owner of the sign was prepared to
teach reading and writing in the shortest possible time, and at moderate
prices, to all comers, citizens, artisans, women, and maidens; and that
if in any instance the scholar proved too stupid to learn, no fee would
be demanded, but that children were to be paid for in advance at each
quarter. The inscription is the same on both sides, one being dated
“1516,” and the other “Anno MCCCCCXVI.” In the narrow space left below,
Holbein depicted two scenes representing the interior of the school,
with benches against the wall under the leaded windows. In one of them
the schoolmaster is shown on the left, in red and yellow, seated at his
high desk, with a birch rod in his hand, teaching a small boy in green
to read. On the other side of the room is the schoolmistress, in red
dress and white coif, at a similar desk, instructing a little girl clad
in blue and green. Between them sit two small lads at their books, one
in blue, and the other in yellow with a red cap. The second picture
represents the same room from another point of view, with a washing
cistern and basin, and a long towel fastened to the wall. In the centre
is a large table at which the schoolmaster is engaged with two young men
dressed in the fashion of the landsknechte, one in trunks of red and
yellow stripes, who is wrestling with a pen, and the other in green, who
is listening with an intent and highly-puzzled expression to the
instructions of the master, who is attempting to teach him to read.
Holbein has represented the mental perturbation of this second pupil
with considerable humour. Both pictures display signs of some haste in
the execution, but they must have served the purpose for which they were
intended admirably. Though slight works, they have undoubted charm, and,
small as they are, the youthful painter has managed to give considerable
expression in both the faces and the gestures of his figures, while the
light which comes through the windows is well managed. This sign-board,
now in the Basel Gallery (Nos. 310-11), has been split into two, in
order that both sides may be exhibited.[124] When in actual use it must
have hung from an iron bar over the pavement. It is quite possible that
it was painted for Oswald Molitor, who, as already pointed out, was at
that time in Basel, engaged in teaching.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 14.


[Illustration]

[Illustration:

  BACK AND FRONT OF A SCHOOLMASTER’S HANGING SIGN
  1516
  BASEL GALLERY
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 15.


[Illustration:

  DOUBLE PORTRAIT OF JAKOB MEYER AND HIS SECOND WIFE, DOROTHEA
    KANNENGIESSER
  1516
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: PORTRAITS OF MEYER AND HIS WIFE]

A much more important work of the same year, 1516, also in the Basel
Gallery (No. 312),[125] is the double portrait of the Burgomaster of
Basel, Jakob Meyer or Meier “zum Hasen,” so called from the sign of a
hare which hung upon his house, and his second wife, Dorothea
Kannengiesser (Pl. 15). This new patron of Holbein’s proved to be an
excellent friend, giving him more than one commission, and obtaining
important public work for him. Meyer was a man of influence in Basel,
and was the first citizen not of knightly birth to be elected as
burgomaster. His election took place in 1516, and it was no doubt in
honour of this event that he ordered the portraits. He was again elected
to the post in 1518 and 1520—no one was allowed to fill it for two years
in succession; but in 1521 he fell into disgrace, through secretly
accepting a higher pension from the French king than the laws of the
city allowed. For this he was dismissed from office, and made to refund
the money, with the exception of the fifteen crowns which was the
permitted sum. Objecting to this treatment, he was clapped into prison,
and was only released on his family paying a fine. During his
burgomastership many important changes took place in the municipal
government of Basel, and the Church and the nobility were gradually
deprived of all their privileges. In his younger days he had served as a
soldier in Italy with some distinction, and after his deprivation of
office he went there again, in 1524, as captain of a Basel troop in the
pay of France. On his return home he attempted without success to obtain
the annulment of the decree against him of exclusion from all public
offices; and during the religious disturbances of 1529 he was at the
head of the Catholic party, then in armed opposition to the Reformers.
The reasons which induced Meyer to choose Holbein as the painter of the
portraits of himself and his young, comely, and newly-married wife, when
there were older painters of repute in the town, are not known; but his
first wife, Magdalena Baer, had been a sister of the Hans Baer for whom
the Zürich table had been painted, and it may have been owing to this
connection that the young artist obtained his first introduction to the
burgomaster.

In the portraits, which were painted and framed as a diptych, Meyer and
his wife are shown at half-length and three-quarters face, turned
towards one another. Meyer is wearing a black dress, open at the front
to show his white, gold-embroidered shirt, and a scarlet cap on his
bushy, curly brown hair, which covers his ears. He is clean-shaven, and
holds in his left hand a coin, which is introduced to indicate his
calling as a money-changer, and also, it is supposed, to commemorate the
charter granted to the Baselers in January 1516 for the mintage of gold
coins. On the same hand he wears several heavy gold rings. His eyes are
dark brown, and his complexion of a ruddy hue, and his face shows
shrewdness and strength of character, while the eyes are intelligent and
determined. His wife wears a red dress, fronted and edged with a broad
band of black velvet across the breast, embroidered with circles of gold
ornamentation. The dress is cut low, to show a white under-bodice worked
in elaborate designs, with hanging tassels and a band of gold embroidery
of a heart-shaped pattern. Her hair and ears are covered with a large
white cap of thin linen decorated with bands of gold of a checked
design, of the hooded shape common in Switzerland at that period, with a
long white fall which is brought over the right shoulder and reaches the
waist. Round her neck hang two thin chains, one of gold and one of
pearls, the ends of which are hidden beneath the bodice. Her hands are
not shown. Though not strikingly handsome, she has youth and good looks
in her favour. The two portraits are placed against one continuous
architectural background, seen in rather strong perspective. In the
centre an elaborate gilt frieze of Renaissance ornamentation is
supported by short pillars of red marble, and on either side larger
columns, also decorated with gilded carving, form the supports of two
arches. Through these the blue sky is seen, against which the wife’s
head stands out in strong colour contrast. Owing to the perspective
arrangement, the opening is smaller in the portrait of Meyer, but part
of his red cap is placed against the blue sky with equally striking
effect. The signature, “H.H.,” and the date, “1516,” are placed on a
small shield in the entablature over Meyer’s head.[126]

In these two portraits—the earliest in point of date which can be
ascribed to him with absolute certainty—Holbein, though not yet twenty
years old, shows himself to be already a master of portraiture. The
qualities they possess are the same, though not yet perfectly developed,
as those which are to be discovered in such complete perfection in the
work of his maturity. They show that he had already the power of seizing
character, and was accurate and unhesitating in draughtsmanship. All the
details, more particularly the elaborate ornaments of the woman’s dress,
are drawn with a truth and delicacy that already falls but little short
of the brilliance of his technique in such a masterpiece of portraiture
as the Georg Gisze in Berlin, or the Jane Seymour in Vienna. The colour,
though rich and strongly contrasted, is harmonious and delicate in the
general effect it produces. The whole work, indeed, gives the impression
that it is from the hand of an artist who is already sure of his
methods. There is nothing faltering about it, and few indications that
the painter was still only on the threshold of his career. All that was
to come in the future was a deeper insight into nature, a greater
perfection of methods which in the main were to remain unaltered
throughout his life, and a more brilliant understanding and application
of the lessons of the Italian Renaissance to the more decorative
portions of his pictures.[127]

[Sidenote: STUDIES FOR THE MEYER PORTRAITS]

The rapidity with which his art was maturing is shown more strikingly,
perhaps, in the two studies for the portraits, now in the Basel Gallery
(Pl. 16),[128] than even in the pictures themselves. These heads, of the
same dimensions as the finished works, are about half the size of life.
They are drawn in silver-point, with fine and delicate lines, and
equally delicate modelling of the flesh, which has been afterwards
touched here and there with red chalk. They display the utmost care and
precision, though the line is less subtle and searching than it is in
the drawings of his greater English period. They are, nevertheless,
extraordinary work for so young a man, and of great beauty. They show a
method of procedure in the taking of portraits which remained Holbein’s
almost invariable practice throughout his life. He always made these
preparatory drawings—the later ones, of course, with much greater
freedom—in which the form, character, and expression of his sitter were
fixed once and for all. Colour was occasionally indicated, but as a rule
all that he did was to jot down on the margin of the paper a few notes
for future guidance. Thus on the drawing of Meyer, he has written notes
as to the colour of the hair, eyebrows, and cap.[129] It was his habit,
apparently, to rely upon his memory and these curt notes when he came to
paint the actual portrait. This method enabled him to dispense with many
sittings; after a few hours spent in close observation of his subject,
he had obtained all the information he wanted. For the rest, he depended
on what must have been a remarkable memory both for colour and form.

During 1517 Holbein left Basel, and was absent for a considerable time.
There is one work by him, however, of this year which in all probability
was painted before his departure, as it belonged to Bonifacius Amerbach.
This is the “Adam and Eve”[130] of the Basel Gallery (No. 313) (Pl. 17),
which is painted in oils on paper. It is entered in the Amerbach
catalogue as: “Ein Adam vnd Eva mit dem äpfel H. Holb. vf holz mit
olfarb.” It is a study from life of the head and shoulders of the same
models used for the heads of St. John and the Virgin already described,
while the “Adam” also served as model for the head of Christ in “The
Scourging” of the early Passion series on canvas. Eve, with a long curl
of fair hair falling over her right shoulder and breast, holds the apple
in her left hand, her face being of a rather dull and heavy type. Adam,
with dark curly hair, and a long moustache which drops below his chin,
and head slightly bent, has his right arm flung across Eve’s shoulders.
The general tone is brownish, but considerable effect is produced by the
contrast between the dark complexion of Adam and the blonder tones of
Eve’s flesh.

It is boldly and thinly executed, and the lines of the drawing are still
plainly to be distinguished through the paint. The fingers of Eve’s
hand, with high lights on the nails, are excellently modelled, already
giving indications of what afterwards became one of the chief features
of his portraiture, the beauty and character of the hands. Both heads
stand out against a background which is now black. It is signed and
dated, “1517, H.H.” Dr. Ganz points out the strong influence of both
Baldung and Dürer this small study betrays.[131] It also bears a curious
resemblance to the heads in the well-known picture of “Adam and Eve” by
Mabuse at Hampton Court[132] (No. 385 (580)), though the position of the
two figures is reversed. It is seen more particularly in Adam’s mass of
dark hair covered with small curls, Eve’s long ringlets, the expression
of pain on the faces, and the position of Adam’s arm across Eve’s
shoulders. There is another very similar, but smaller, “Adam and Eve” by
Mabuse in the Berlin Gallery (No. 661), displaying a composite art, half
Flemish and half Italian, which is signed and dated 1516.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 16.


[Illustration:

  JAKOB MEYER
  Studies for the Double Portrait, 1516
  _Silver-point and red chalk drawings_
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Illustration:

  DOROTHEA KANNENGIESSER
  Studies for the Double Portrait, 1516
  _Silver-point and red chalk drawings_
  BASEL GALLERY
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 17.


[Illustration:

  ADAM AND EVE
  1517
  BASEL GALLERY
]


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                               CHAPTER IV

               WORK IN LUCERNE AND THE VISIT TO LOMBARDY

Holbein leaves Basel for Lucerne—Ambrosius Holbein—The known facts of
  his short life—His pictures, designs, and woodcuts—Records of Hans in
  Lucerne—His decoration of the Hertenstein house—Description of the
  wall-paintings—Portrait of Benedikt von Hertenstein—Holbein’s visit to
  North Italy—“The Last Supper” at Basel, and Leonardo’s
  influence—Evidences of his Italian journey in his designs for painted
  glass—Possible visit to Altorf—Return to Lucerne—Drawings of the
  “Archangel Michael” and of “Miners at Work”—Pictures painted for the
  Church of the Augustines in Lucerne.


IN 1517 Holbein left Basel, and was absent for nearly two years. For the
greater part of the time he was in Lucerne, but traces of him are to be
found in other parts of Switzerland, and it is practically certain that
he also paid a short visit to Lombardy. It is possible, too, that during
this time he may have returned to Basel more than once for a few weeks
in connection with his work for Froben and other publishers. Whether he
left Basel in the first place because he found that it gave him less
employment than he had expected, or from a spirit of pure adventure, or,
again, on account of the offer of some definite commission, such as the
decoration of the Hertenstein house, is not known; but the last-named
reason is the most probable one, for it cannot be said that his talents
had been unrecognised in Basel. Although there is no record of any
earlier wall-paintings than those he was now to complete in Lucerne, it
is quite possible that the two brothers had already carried out work of
this nature, and that Jakob von Hertenstein had seen it and had admired
it, and so decided to employ one or both of the young men to decorate in
like fashion the new mansion he had just completed. Even if this were
not the case, Lucerne at that time offered nearly as many inducements to
a young artist as Basel itself. The two towns were closely allied, and
artists and learned scholars constantly passed backwards and forwards
between them; and Holbein had at least one acquaintance in Lucerne,
Oswald Molitor, who had recently returned from Basel to his native city,
and was practising there as a schoolmaster.

There is an old legend in Lucerne that at this period the elder Holbein
was living in the town with his two sons, but it does not appear to have
any foundation in fact.[133] There is much more probability that
Ambrosius accompanied Hans, or followed him shortly afterwards, and
remained for some time at work with his brother on the Hertenstein
house; though here again there is no actual record of such an absence
from Basel. There is, however, a fine drawing by him in the Basel
Gallery (No. 297), a half-length figure of a young man of the Von
Rüdiswiler family,[134] which is thought to afford some proof that
Ambrosius was in Lucerne at the time, for the Rüdiswiler family was one
of the most important in the district, their chief seat being at
Rüdiswil. Members of this house were settled both in Lucerne and
Solothurn, and it is supposed that Ambrosius drew the portrait of this
youth of patrician birth in the former town during 1517. The sitter is
shown in profile, in a heavy brown cloak, wearing his cap on the side of
his head. His fair straight hair covers his ears, and he holds a large
red heart in his hand. The drawing has at some time been cut out round
the outline and mounted on parchment, and the inscription in secret
cipher, below the coat of arms, had been copied at the same time from
the one which existed on the original drawing before the cutting out
took place.

Ambrosius, however, must have been back again in Basel by the summer of
1518, for in that year, on June 6, he purchased his right of
citizenship. The first mention of him in the town books is on September
26, 1516, when “Ambrosy Holbein von augspurg, ein maler,” appeared in
court as a witness in a libel action brought by Bastian Lepzelter, the
sculptor, against a tailor, Andreas Huber, for insulting remarks made on
the previous 25th of July, when the plaintiff, Ambrosius, and another
friend, were enjoying themselves in the house of Hans Herbster.[135]
Ambrosius may perhaps have been working as a journeyman under Herbster
at the time. He joined the Painters’ Guild “zum Himmel,” to which
bakers, saddlers, and barber-surgeons also belonged, on St. Matthias’
Day, February 24, 1517. The entry in the book of the guild runs as
follows: “Item es hatt entpfangen die zunfft vff sant Mattistag ambross
Holbein maler von augspurg In dem xvii Jor.” According to an order of
the Basel Council issued in 1487, any one entering a guild was obliged
to take oath to purchase the freedom of the city within a month. This
Ambrosius did not do until the following year, which possibly indicates
that he left the town shortly after joining the guild, early in 1517,
without fulfilling his obligations. It may be that he had not sufficient
money for the payment of the fees, for when, on June 6, 1518, he became
a burgher, he was only able to find one gulden out of the four which
were required, Jörg Schweiger, the goldsmith, whose portrait, now in the
Basel Gallery (No. 296),[136] he painted about this time, standing
surety for the remainder. The portrait may have been taken as some
return for the kindness shown on this occasion. It should be noted,
however, that this portrait is not attributed to Ambrosius by all
critics, and differs to some extent from his accustomed style.

[Sidenote: AMBROSIUS HOLBEIN]

The entry in the archives runs as follows: “Item do hat burckrecht kufft
Ambrosy Holbein der moler uff Sundag nach corporis Xpi Im xviij jor umb
iiij glden und hat bar gen j glden und sol al fronfasten j ort bitz zu
bezallung dofür ist bürg und schuldner meister Jerg schweiger der
goldschmit.”


                           VOL. I., PLATE 18.


[Illustration]

[Illustration:

  PORTRAITS OF TWO BROTHERS
  AMBROSIUS HOLBEIN
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: AMBROSIUS HOLBEIN]

This is the last reference to the elder brother so far discovered in the
official archives, and as no work by him of a date later than 1518 is
known, it is supposed that he died in that year or early in 1519.
Apparently the last work upon which he was engaged was a series of
woodcut illustrations for the _Geuchmatt_ of Thomas Murner, which was
published by Adam Petri in Basel in April 1519. The first four only of
the illustrations to this book[137] were designed by Ambrosius, which
would seem to indicate that he died before he had completed the
commission. The only other supposition, and a most improbable one, is
that he suddenly left Basel at about this time in search of better
fortune elsewhere, though no traces of such removal have so far been
discovered. Almost all the few works which can be attributed to him with
any certainty are now in the Basel Gallery. In addition to those already
mentioned, there are two charming half-length portraits of small boys in
a Renaissance framework (Nos. 294-5) (Pl. 18),[138] for one of which,
the boy turned to the left, the silver-point drawing is in the
Albertina, Vienna,[139] while a similar study for the other, recently
published for the first time by Dr. Willy Hes, is in the Rodriguez
Collection, Paris.[140] A half-length portrait of a little girl, in a
similar framework, also published for the first time by Dr. Hes, is in
the Ambraser Collection, Vienna, but not exhibited.[141] The strong
likeness to the two lads proves almost conclusively that she was their
sister. On the medallion which hangs from a chain round her neck are the
initials H. V. So far, no preliminary drawing for this portrait has been
discovered. In the Basel Gallery there are also “The Saviour as the Man
of Sorrows” (No. 292),[142] an oil-painting adapted from the title-page
to Dürer’s “Great Passion” series; and a study of two death’s heads
behind a trellised window (No. 299).[143] Both pictures form part of the
Amerbach Collection, but the latter is not regarded as the work of
Ambrosius by Dr. Hes. A somewhat similar picture, attributed to Hans,
was in the Arundel Collection, and was entered in the 1655 inventory as
“Testa de Morte con osse.” The portrait of Hans Herbster, also at Basel
(No. 293),[144] which has been already mentioned, was at one time
regarded as a work by Hans the Younger, but since its purchase for the
Basel Gallery it has been given, more correctly, to the elder brother.
Dr. Hes, however, considers that it is not his work, but rather a
portrait of Herbster painted by himself.[145] It is a bust portrait,
turned to the right, representing a middle-aged man with long brown hair
and a large bushy beard, wearing a dark dress and a red cap over his
right ear. He is placed under an archway of Renaissance architecture,
his head standing out against the blue sky seen through the opening.
From the top of the pillars which support the arch hang two festoons of
fruit and leaves held by small amorini. Above the heads of these boys
two small tablets are suspended, one containing the date, “1516,” and
the other the now illegible remains of the painter’s monogram. Across
the bottom is the inscription, “IOANNES HERBSTER PICTOR OPORINI PATER,”
the last words referring to his son, the well-known scholar of Basel,
who afterwards turned printer, and Latinised his name to Oporinus.
Herbster himself, like the Burgomaster Meyer, had taken his part in the
Italian wars, and was in the battle of Pavia in 1512. In addition to
several drawings already described, the Basel Gallery also possesses a
charming study in silver-point and red chalk of a young girl, inscribed
“ANNE,” and dated 1518, in which a very tender, delicate feeling for the
beauty of childhood is shown (Pl. 19);[146] the head of a young woman in
a hood in profile to the left;[147] a very fine drawing of the head of a
young man turned slightly to the left, wearing a black cap on the side
of his head, signed and dated 1517;[148] and a design for painted glass,
representing the foundation of the city of Basel (Pl. 20),[149] a pen
drawing lightly touched with colour, which was formerly attributed to
Hans. In the centre are the arms of Basel, supported by basilisks, under
an archway in course of building, which is decorated with a series of
empty shields for coats of arms. In the landscape background on either
side are men engaged in erecting buildings on the river bank, and in the
foreground is a boat filled with soldiers. The commander of this troop,
the legendary founder of the town, has the name “Basilius” engraved upon
his breastplate.

One of the most important of the few paintings by him which have been so
far traced, is the portrait of an unknown young man in the Royal
Hermitage Gallery in St. Petersburg (Pl. 21).[150] The sitter is turned
three-quarters to the left, under a Renaissance arcading, and is wearing
a green dress and white shirt ornamented with lace. On his black hat are
the initials “F. G.” or “C. I. E.” (?). His right hand rests on the iron
pommel of his sword. In the distance is a mountainous landscape with a
palace or large building of elaborate Renaissance architecture, and on a
column hangs a tablet with the inscription, “ETATIS. SVE. XX. M.D.
XVIII.” From the arch above his head is suspended a garland of leaves
bound round with ribbon, to which is attached a small cartouche with the
monogram AHB, of which the H is the most distinct letter.[151] The
drawing, mentioned above, signed and dated “1517 AH,” was considered
by Woltmann to be a study for this portrait, and there is certainly a
strong likeness between the two. The arrangement of the foreground
architectural setting, and the position of the garland supporting the
cartouche, of which only the left-hand loop is shown, prove that the
picture formed one of a pair, the missing half in all probability
containing a portrait of the young man’s wife.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 19.


[Illustration:

  PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG GIRL, “ANNE,” 1518
  _Silver-point and red chalk drawing_
  AMBROSIUS HOLBEIN
  BASEL GALLERY
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 20.


[Illustration:

  THE FOUNDING OF BASEL
  Design for Painted Glass
  AMBROSIUS HOLBEIN
  BASEL GALLERY
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 21.


[Illustration:

  PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN YOUNG MAN
  1518
  AMBROSIUS HOLBEIN
  ROYAL HERMITAGE GALLERY, ST. PETERSBURG
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 22.


[Illustration:

  ILLUSTRATION TO SIR THOMAS MORE’S “UTOPIA”
  AMBROSIUS HOLBEIN
  _From a woodcut in the British Museum_
]

[Sidenote: AMBROSIUS HOLBEIN]

In addition to works of this nature, Ambrosius produced, during the few
years he was in Basel, a considerable number of designs for title-pages,
initial letters, and other decorations for books, issued by Froben,
Cratander, Adam Petri, Thomas Wolff, and Pamphilus Gegenbach. One of the
best known is the “Calumny of Apelles,”[152] the painting described by
Lucian, which bears the monogram of Ambrosius and the date 1517. It was
first used in Erasmus’ version of the New Testament, published by Froben
in 1519. He had a share, too, in the numerous illustrations and
ornaments which Froben provided for the first edition of Sir Thomas
More’s _Utopia_, upon which work his brother, Urs Graf, and others, were
also engaged. Ambrosius was the designer of the charming little picture
representing the scene in the garden of Petrus Ægidius in Antwerp in
which Raphael Hythlodæus, the traveller, is describing to his host and
Sir Thomas his adventures in the island of Utopia.[153] A larger
woodcut, with a bird’s-eye view of the island, on which the chief places
are marked as given in the text, with Hythlodæus in the foreground
pointing out its features to Ægidius and More, is also his work (Pl.
22).[154] It is difficult in every case to separate the designs of the
two brothers in this field of art, more particularly as in many
instances they have been so badly cut that much of the beauty of the
original line has been lost. In book-illustration the art of the two
young men had much in common, though Ambrosius was never as powerful or
varied in conception as Hans, nor possessed of as great a mastery of
technical execution. His woodcuts are not so thoroughly imbued with the
true spirit of the Italian Renaissance, nor had he the same gift of
producing the effect of largeness of design within an inch or two of
space. His figures, too, are often too short, with the head out of
proportion to the body. Yet much of his decorative work has considerable
charm, and fulfils its purpose admirably. Some forty woodcuts after his
designs, including a number of initial letters, are known, of which it
is impossible to attempt any description here.[155] His skill as a
designer for glass-painting has been already noted; and among his few
drawings are two small roundels, in the Karlsruhe Gallery, of “Pyramus
and Thisbe,” and “Hercules and Antæus,”[156] which are very pleasing,
and in their delicate and somewhat “pretty” handling have great
resemblance to a number of the marginal drawings to the _Praise of
Folly_ which are now given to him.

In painting he was overshadowed by his younger brother. Like Hans, he
had inherited a considerable gift for portraiture from his father, as
the few works of this nature which remain show very clearly. In his
studies for portraits the draughtsmanship is looser and more free than
in the corresponding work of the younger Hans in his earlier Basel
period, and there is less searching after exact truth of line. His
portraits, nevertheless, display an original talent of no mean order,
which, had he lived, would have gained for him a place of some
distinction among the leading German painters of his day. Such a drawing
as the “Anne” is filled with a very tender feeling, and a sympathetic
expression of the wistful charm of childhood; and much of the same
appreciation of youthful character is to be seen in the portraits of the
two small boys in the Basel Gallery, while there is a careful and
realistic drawing of the head and body of a baby, supported by the
mother’s hand, in the British Museum, evidently a study for a Madonna
and Child, which is very attractive. It is inscribed “Hans Holbein,
1522,” by some later hand, over some earlier signature, now obliterated.
According to Dr. Hes, however, it is not by Ambrosius.[157]

The records of Hans Holbein’s residence in Lucerne are scanty ones, but
such as they are, they extend from 1517 to 1519. Shortly after his
arrival he joined the painters’ guild, the Brotherhood of St. Luke,
which had been formed in 1506. In the book of the confraternity his name
is entered as having paid one gulden for admission: “Meister Hanns
Holbein hat j gulden gen.” Unfortunately the year-date is not given. The
original book has disappeared, but a copy exists which was made by
Zacharias Bletz, the town registrar, in 1541, but in transcribing it he
has omitted the dates which would fix the exact details of Holbein’s
membership.

His first recorded commission was a badly-paid one. On the Sunday before
the feast of Saints Simon and Jude (October 28), 1517, he received one
florin nine shillings for a design for a glass window. In the same year,
on December 10, an entry in the town records shows him engaged in less
reputable occupation. He and a certain Caspar, a goldsmith, were each
fined five livres for fighting in the streets. “Item Caspar goldschmid
vnnd der Holbein soll jeder 5 ll. buss als sy vber ein andern zuckt
hand.” This same Caspar, one learns from the town books, was by nature a
brawler, for he was in trouble of the same kind on more than one
occasion. The punishment in this particular case was heavy, so that the
disturbance must have been a serious one, and it has been suggested that
on account of it Holbein left Lucerne for a time, in order that the
affair might blow over, and that he took the opportunity of paying a
visit to Lombardy. It is not likely, however, that he crossed the Alps
in the winter.

[Sidenote: PAINTINGS OF HERTENSTEIN HOUSE]

In one of the rooms of the Hertenstein house, at the time of its
demolition early in the last century, there still remained the date 1517
on one of the wall decorations, which suggests that his work in the
interior of the mansion was well advanced, if not completed, during that
year. The outer walls were still unfinished when Holbein left Lucerne,
for what reason is not known, but it does not seem probable that he
would have abandoned an important commission for several months merely
on account of some small trouble with the town authorities. The visit to
Italy, it seems certain, took place in the spring or early summer of
1518, after the decorations of the Hertenstein house had been well
advanced. These decorations, as far as can be judged from the few
existing remains, show a certain Italian influence, but for the greater
part not so strongly that it cannot be accounted for by the teaching of
his father, the study of prints and engravings, and other second-hand
sources. There is, however, a drawing in the Basel Gallery, described
below, a preliminary study of architectural decoration for the lower
part of the façade of the house, which, as Dr. Ganz points out, must
have been made after Holbein’s return from Italy, for in it this new
influence can be seen much more clearly and strongly, just as it can in
similar work undertaken by him in Basel a year or two later, after a
visit to Lombardy had brought him into personal contact with the works
of some of the leading Italian masters in painting and architecture. It
is clear, therefore, that the journey over the Alps formed an interlude
of some duration between two sojourns in Lucerne, each extending over
several months, and that during the second period he completed the
Hertenstein wall-paintings.

Lucerne was one of the first towns in Switzerland to feel the influence
of the Italian Renaissance, and the fashion, copied from the southern
country, of decorating the fronts of its houses with wall-paintings, had
been adopted before Holbein worked there. As early as 1435 the Frey
family owned a house which was covered with such paintings; a second
house with sixteenth-century decorations was demolished in 1871, while
others of the same period retained traces of wall-paintings until
comparatively modern times. Certain fragments of this early
wall-painting still exist, and there has been a revival of the art in
Lucerne in recent years. Augsburg was probably the first town outside
Italy to adopt this method of house decoration, to which the painters
who practised it owed so much of the freedom of their style; but many of
the towns immediately to the north of the Alps followed suit in course
of time, and modified the architecture of their buildings in order to
meet the requirements of the new fashion, abandoning to a certain extent
the structural Gothic decorative forms to which they were accustomed, in
order to make room for the provision of large flat wall surfaces, broken
only by plain rectangular windows and doors, upon which the painters
would have free scope for their work. It became the habit, too, among
the wealthier of the citizens, to decorate the inner walls of their
mansions in the same way.

Jakob von Hertenstein, who, when he gave the commission to Holbein for
the painting of his new house, was the chief magistrate of Lucerne, was
a member of one of the oldest families in Switzerland. His father,
Caspar von Hertenstein, held many important civic and military offices,
and led the Swiss rearguard at the battle of Murten. His son inherited
many of his dignities, and was also a notable soldier, and in 1515, in
which year he was mayor, commanded the men of Lucerne at the battle of
Marignano. His ancestral castle stood on a steep rock on the shore of
the lake of Lucerne, near Weggis, and from it the family took its name.
Jakob was married four times, in each instance to a lady of a patrician
Swiss family, and in the decoration of the façade of his new dwelling,
Holbein introduced the coats of arms of all four of them. In 1511 he
purchased of Hans Wolf an old wooden house which stood on the
Kappelplatz at the corner of a small street leading to the Sternen
Platz, near the Corn Market, and in the heart of the city. This house he
pulled down, and erected in its place a fine stone mansion, which was
finished, and ready for its decorations, by 1517.

It has been suggested that Holbein obtained this commission through the
good services of Oswald Molitor, who was a friend of one of
Hertenstein’s sons; but, however it may have been gained, it was one of
great importance to so young an artist, and he made the most of his
opportunities. The house was one of four storeys, and the whole of its
frontage he covered with paintings. It was still standing in 1824, with
its decorations for the greater part well preserved; but it was then
pulled down, and all that remains of its painted glories is comprised in
a number of very inadequate copies of certain portions, a single
fragment of one of the original paintings, together with a small study
for one of the pictures, and the architectural design already mentioned
for part of the ground floor decoration, both from Holbein’s own pencil.
It is thus to-day almost impossible to obtain any adequate impression of
the actual effect of the painter’s earliest undertaking of importance,
as it was in the days of its first freshness and beauty.

[Sidenote: PAINTINGS OF HERTENSTEIN HOUSE]

The ground floor was left undecorated, with the exception of the
painting of certain architectural details, and on the floor above, which
had numerous windows of varying sizes, and little wall space, Holbein’s
work was confined to three single female figures, one at each corner,
and one between the windows in the middle. Immediately over the windows
on the left, which were irregular in arrangement, the decoration
consisted of ornaments and figures adapted to fit the window crowns; and
on the right, where the windows were considerably higher and stood in a
straight line, a long frieze of fighting children was introduced. All
these decorations were painted in grisaille, but between the two groups
was a larger picture in colours, the upper part of which extended to the
floor above. This picture was so arranged that its framework had the
appearance of a large projecting bay, semicircular in shape, with an
arched opening supported by pillars, through which a view was obtained
of what appeared to be a large inner chamber of the house. Within this
room Holbein depicted a story from the _Gesta Romanorum_, the one which
tells of the old king who tested the love of his three sons and their
right to succeed him by offering his dead body as a target to their
arrows. This picture was still in a fairly good condition at the time of
the destruction of the house, so that from the copy then made it is
possible to gain an idea of the artist’s conception of the scene. He
represented the white-haired monarch, death-pale in face, still seated
upright on his throne, though his heart has ceased to beat. Two of the
sons have shot their arrows, and one points to the cruel wound he has
made, and claims the crown; but the third, rather than aim at such a
target, breaks his bow in indignation, and is acclaimed the victor by
the assembled courtiers. On the third storey, between the windows, were
placed the coats of arms of Hertenstein and his four wives, within
arched openings with hanging wreaths.

Between the windows of the third storey and those of the floor above it,
there ran a long triumphal procession from right to left, broken up into
groups by pilasters placed at intervals, giving the effect of an open
arcading through which the passing show was seen. This design was
borrowed in its main details and arrangement from Andrea Mantegna’s
engraved “Triumph of Caesar.” In this he followed his original so
closely as to clothe the figures in antique costumes, whereas in the
pictures drawn from classical sources painted on other parts of the
building, he made use of the costumes of his own day. On the topmost
storey five pictures were placed between the windows reaching up to the
cornice of the roof. These, too, were chosen from classical literature,
apparently for the purpose of providing moral lessons, not only for the
members of Hertenstein’s own family, but for all the citizens of Lucerne
who paused to admire their mayor’s new residence. They included the
stories of the treacherous schoolmaster who attempted to betray the town
of Falerii to Camillus, Tarquin and Lucretia, the self-sacrifice of
Marcus Curtius, Mucius Scævola before Porsenna, and Leæna, who bit off
her tongue rather than betray her lover Aristogiton to the judges after
the murder of Hipparchus.

The only original study for these painted stories now remaining is the
one for the last-named subject, which is preserved in the Basel Gallery
(Pl. 23 (1)).[158] It is a washed monochrome drawing, in which Leæna, in
the costume of Holbein’s own day, stands before her two judges, her hand
lifted to her tongue in sign of her determination to keep silence. The
story is told with the aid of but few figures. A gaoler stands near
Leæna, and behind the two judges are two other seated men. The scene
takes place in a vaulted hall with open archways at the back, and has
been cleverly arranged to fill in the irregular spaces between the
brackets supporting the cornice. This study is of great interest, as it
marks a great advance in Holbein’s power of drawing the human figure
when compared with the schoolmaster’s sign-board of the previous year,
and shows much greater freedom of draughtsmanship. The heads of one or
two of the figures still retain something of the grotesqueness of type
which characterises those of the early Passion series of pictures, but
the figure of Leæna is a graceful one, and the judge in the centre, in a
furred robe and cap, with one finger lifted in admonition and a rod of
justice or sword grasped in his left hand, is natural and dignified. The
only fragment of the actual wall-painting itself which now remains is a
small portion of the Tarquin and Lucretia fresco,[159] showing the
latter’s hand grasping the dagger, the figure of her husband before whom
she is about to kill herself, the right arm of a woman attendant who
stands behind her, and part of the architectural background. This
fragment was built into the wall of the house which replaced the older
one, and can still be seen on the upper floor of the façade. It is
insignificant enough in itself, and has greatly darkened with age and
exposure, but it is of value as the only actual evidence of the broad
and vigorous manner in which the whole façade was painted.[160]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 23.


[Illustration]

[Illustration:

  DESIGNS FOR THE WALL-PAINTINGS OF THE HERTENSTEIN HOUSE
  1. Leaena and the Judges                    2. Architectural
    Decoration of the Ground Floor
  BASEL GALLERY

]

A second original drawing by Holbein in the Basel Gallery is a study for
a part of the ground-floor façade of this house (Pl. 23 (2)).[161] It is
a pen and wash drawing slightly touched with colour. Groups of pillars
support a frieze with flat carving in the Gothic manner. Above the
pointed doorway on the left he has thrown a circular arch, round which
the pattern of the frieze is continued, filled in with grotesque
sculptured figures supporting a tablet for a date. On the right he has
placed an open loggia, to which a flight of stone steps descends, with
square pillars, inlaid with marble panels, on either side supporting a
wide, flattened arch richly ornamented. The space over the frieze on the
right is filled in with a procession of naked boys, some dragged along
by their comrades, and others carried on litters, and above this again,
hanging garlands of leaves with swinging putti, one blowing a trumpet.
According to Dr. Ganz, this last motive, as well as other parts of the
architectural design, are reminiscent of details to be seen in the
cloisters and on the façade of the Certosa of Pavia, and suggest that
Holbein must have taken them directly from that building.[162] If this
be so, it proves that a part at least of the wall decoration of the
Hertenstein house was not finished until after Holbein’s visit to
Lombardy.

[Sidenote: PAINTINGS OF HERTENSTEIN HOUSE]

It seems certain that Holbein began his work in the interior of the
house, and that he covered the walls of at least five rooms, chiefly on
the third floor, with paintings. In 1825 many of them still remained in
an excellent state of preservation. In contradistinction to those on the
outer walls, they consisted of religious pictures, and scenes from
ancient fables and from everyday life in which humour found a prominent
place. The sacred decorations were in a large hall which served as the
family chapel. One of them represented the legend of the fourteen saints
who are said to have appeared to a shepherd in 1445 at a church in the
neighbourhood of Bamberg. Holbein depicted them in an elaborate
landscape, with mountains and a church in the background, grouped on
their knees round the Infant Christ, with the shepherd, a striking
figure, kneeling in adoration with his sheep round him. A second picture
in this room contained portraits of Hertenstein, his wife, and three
sons, very diminutive figures, kneeling before seven saints, among them
St. Benedictus, the patron saint of Lucerne. A third picture showed a
religious procession, with a bishop and other ecclesiastics, headed by
banners, issuing from the walls of a town in a hilly country. In the
large hall of the house, on the third floor, which at the time of the
demolition was still in its original state, were a number of landscapes
with hunting scenes, in one of which, a stag-hunt, the ancient castle of
the Hertensteins on a hill by the lake of Lucerne was introduced. In
these scenes portraits of the chief magistrate and members of his family
were included. In one of them Hertenstein, his fourth wife, and two
sons, Benedikt and Leodegar, all mounted, are hunting wild ducks by the
side of the lake, accompanied by dogs. Husband and wife appear again in
the painting representing a stag-hunt in the woodland below the castle
at Weggis. In a third scene hares are being hunted with a pack of hounds
over hilly country. Near the fireplace was a representation of a subject
which was popular with German painters—the Fountain of Youth. In this a
certain amount of latitude was permitted, and Holbein depicted some of
the incidents with a rough, unrefined humour. Nude men and women are
sitting crowded together in a small circular fountain, some still old,
others already rejuvenated by its waters. In the centre of the basin
rises a pillar with a banner bearing the arms of Hertenstein and his
fourth wife. From all sides old people come crowding and hurrying up,
some in carts, some on donkeys, one pushed in a wheelbarrow, and others
carried in litters or on the backs of less feeble seekers after
perpetual youth. In one instance an ugly old woman, seated in a basket
slung on the back of a sturdy young man, holds in her arms an equally
old and ugly dog, in order that it, too, may benefit from the bath. A
second painting next to it continued the story. Other old men and women
are crowded into a long cart drawn by four horses, into the back of
which a lame man has scrambled, while a second limps painfully after it.
In other rooms the decorations were so dilapidated and damaged that it
was impossible to make copies of them; but they included battle scenes,
and various Renaissance ornaments and devices. In one of these latter
rooms occurred the date 1517 under the family shield.[163] In one of the
chambers was a wooden pillar, carved with the likeness of Heini von Uri,
court fool of Duke Leopold of Austria, for which Holbein appears to have
supplied the design from which the carver worked. Hollar made an etching
from this drawing, or from a woodcut of it, as he has inscribed it, “H.
Holbein incidit in lignum,” when it was in the Arundel Collection, in
1647.[164]

In carrying out this monumental work, Holbein, in addition to possible
help from his brother, must have employed more than one assistant. He
made, no doubt, designs for every part of it, and painted the principal
pictures himself, but much of the remainder was very probably done by
others under his personal direction. North of the Alps such work was not
particularly well paid, nor was great care displayed in carrying it out.
Both artist and employer were satisfied if a good decorative effect in
design and colour was produced; the former, considering the large amount
of surface to be covered, could not waste much time over the careful
painting of details, nor was the latter prepared to pay more than a very
moderate price for it. There is no doubt, however, that Holbein’s work
in this field was far in advance of anything hitherto carried out in
Switzerland, more particularly in the elaborate architectural settings
in which he placed his wall pictures, and in the use made of
perspective, so that the scenes depicted appeared to be taking place
within the rooms of the house itself, and the eye was deceived into
supposing that a building of somewhat plain design was in reality a
mansion erected in the richest style of the Italian Renaissance.

[Sidenote: DESTRUCTION OF WALL-PAINTINGS]

In 1825 the Hertenstein house came into the possession of a Lucerne
banker named Knörr, who pulled it down in order to replace it by a more
modern building. In spite of the efforts of a few art-lovers, this work
of demolition was carried out, and the town authorities made no attempt
to stop such an act of vandalism, or to save the only surviving record
they possessed of the art of by far the greatest artist their walls had
ever sheltered—a record which to-day would be rightly regarded as one of
their greatest treasures. It was only through the efforts of Colonel May
von Büren and Colonel Karl Pfyffer von Altishofen, who employed certain
local artists to make copies of the frescoes before the house was
finally destroyed, that any record at all of the decorations remains.
Time and the damp climate had so dimmed them, however, that it was found
necessary to wash them down with the town’s fire-engine before they
could be seen clearly enough for the artists to copy them. The copies,
which were made by the Lucerne painters Schwegler, Ulrich von
Eschenbach, Eglin, Marzohl, and an Italian, Trolli von Lavena, had to be
hurriedly done, and they naturally possess little or nothing of the
combined delicacy and force of the originals. Much of the purely
decorative work, the scroll and wreath ornament, and details in the
Renaissance style, in the use of which Holbein was to become so great a
master, had to be left uncopied, attention being concentrated on the
pictures and figure subjects. Still, what was done was sufficient to
show something of the ideas Holbein brought to the undertaking, the
influences he came under in his choice of subjects, and the methods he
employed in carrying them out. Colonel May persuaded Usteri, the painter
and poet, to visit Lucerne in order to give his opinion as to the value
of the paintings, but he was unable to do so until 1825, when the
demolition had already begun. Usteri directed the making of the copies,
and saw to it that the artists adhered as faithfully as possible to the
originals. No “restoration” was permitted; those parts which had
perished were left blank in the copies. The latter were made with the
view of publication, but they proved too inadequate, and the scheme was
dropped. In 1851 they were presented by Colonel May to the town library
of Lucerne, together with Usteri’s letters concerning them.[165]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 24.


[Illustration:

  BENEDIKT VON HERTENSTEIN
  1517
  METROPOLITAN MUSEUM, NEW YORK
]

[Sidenote: BENEDIKT VON HERTENSTEIN]

Before turning to Holbein’s journey across the Alps in 1518, reference
must be made to a portrait painted by him during his first residence in
Lucerne, which is the only one by him so far discovered bearing the date
1517. This work, of considerable importance to the student making a
careful study of Holbein’s early development, is a likeness of Benedikt
von Hertenstein, one of the sons of his new patron, who was twenty-two
years of age at the time of the sitting. He was a member of the Council
in the year he was painted, and was slain at the battle of Bicocca in
1522. This portrait was acquired from a private collection in England in
1906 for the Metropolitan Museum of New York (Pl. 24).[166] He is
represented standing, facing the spectator, with his left hand resting
on the pommel of his sword. He wears a black under-dress and a white
shirt with an embroidered edge. His cloak or overcoat with wide upper
sleeves is of crimson, trimmed with dark green bands, and lined with
bright myrtle-green silk. His left hand is half hidden by the sleeve and
the right arm hangs down, the hand not being shown. His cap is of black
and scarlet velvet with gold tags, and a plain chain of gold links hangs
from his neck. He wears six rings on his left hand, the one on his first
finger being a signet ring with a coat of arms now almost illegible. The
pommel of his sword is of gold and silver ornamented with a design in
imitation of Cufic script in the fashion of Italian goldsmith’s work of
the period. His bushy hair almost hides the ears, and his eyes are small
and bright. The background, as in the Meyer portraits, is a study in
perspective, for Holbein has placed him within the angle of a wall,
along the two sides of which, over the sitter’s head, runs a stone
frieze carved with a representation of a Roman triumph, crowded with
small figures, in which the victor is seated in a chariot drawn by
prancing horses, and in front of him, among the soldiers and trumpeters,
a number of prisoners led captive. It has suffered rather severely from
repainting. The design, an imitation of an antique bas-relief, was no
doubt based upon Mantegna’s “Triumph,” which Holbein was at the same
time adapting for the façade of the Hertenstein house. A somewhat
similar design, though later in date, is to be seen on the drawing of a
dagger sheath in the Basel Gallery (Vol. ii., Pl. 46 (2)).[167] The wall
on the left is in shadow, and on it, immediately below the frieze, is
inscribed: “DA · ICH · HET · DIE · GESTALT · WAS · ICH · 22 · JAR · ALT
· 1517 · H · H · PINGEBAT.” This inscription is interesting as the only
one in German to be found on any one of his portraits, with the
exception of that of Fallen at Brunswick, and the addresses on the
letters in some of the other Steelyard portraits. The picture is painted
in oils on paper, and afterwards mounted on a panel, a method not
infrequently employed by Holbein in his earlier practice. The technical
skill displayed in it is already of a high order, though the
draughtsmanship is still a little laboured, and lacking in that ease and
certainty to which he afterwards attained, while the flesh tints are
paler and flatter than in his later work. It shows, nevertheless, a
distinct advance when compared with the Meyer portraits of the preceding
year. The draughtsmanship is firmer, the colour tones softer, and the
general effect produced is one of greater naturalness, though still far
behind the “Bonifacius Amerbach,” painted two years later, in subtlety
of line and harmony of colour. When the picture was purchased in 1906
the name of the sitter was unknown, and beyond the fact that at the
beginning of the last century it was in the possession of the Burckhardt
family, its history has not been traced; but by means of the coat of
arms on the ring it was identified three years later as Benedikt von
Hertenstein.[168] In 1826 Ulrich Hegner saw in Lucerne a portrait of his
father, Jakob von Hertenstein, of the same date, 1517, still in the
possession of one of his descendants, which he considered to be an
original work by Holbein, which would indicate that the artist, in
addition to including portraits of various members of the family in the
wall-paintings in the interior of the house, was also commissioned to
paint individual portraits of more than one of them. The portrait seen
by Hegner has now disappeared, but others of Hertenstein still remain in
the Town Hall and the Library of Lucerne. These, however, are not
contemporary likenesses, but later copies, possibly after an original by
Holbein now lost.

[Sidenote: THE VISIT TO LOMBARDY]

The great likelihood—indeed, the certainty—that Holbein, before these
wall-paintings were finally completed, paid, during 1518, a short visit
to Italy, is now generally acknowledged by most writers. It is true that
Carel van Mander distinctly states that “Hans Holbein never travelled in
Italy,” and the artist’s earliest biographer was, no doubt, correct, if
his words are to be understood as meaning that Holbein never made any
long sojourn in that country, or studied for a considerable period under
some Italian painter. This statement, however, in no way precludes a
visit of several months’ duration to Lombardy, of which Van Mander was
ignorant. From Lucerne the journey to the foot of the Alps was only a
matter of a few days, while traces of his presence in Altorf, which is
on the route to the St. Gotthard Pass, still remain. From Altorf the
Italian side of the mountains could be easily reached. The influence of
both Mantegna and Leonardo and the Milanese school of painting is
unmistakable in certain of his pictures, and though some of this may
have been due to earlier influences in his Augsburg days, received
through Hans Burgkmair and other German painters who had worked in
Italy, and to the study of engravings, they are not strong enough to
account satisfactorily for the very marked Italian influence to be seen
in such pictures as the early “Last Supper,” or the “Venus” and “Lais
Corinthiaca” of 1526. The indications of personal acquaintance with
Italian painting and architecture are even more strongly marked in
numerous designs for glass paintings, dealt with in a later
chapter.[169] It is therefore assumed that he crossed the Alps and
penetrated into the country at least as far as Milan and its
neighbourhood. Indeed, the careful researches of Dr. Ganz have removed
all doubts on the question.

The “Last Supper” in the Basel Gallery (No. 316) (Pl. 25),[170] which
must not be confounded with the still earlier version of the same
subject on canvas already described,[171] although badly damaged, bears
in its composition so striking a reminiscence of Leonardo’s celebrated
fresco in the refectory of the church of Santa Maria delle Grazie in
Milan, that it appears almost certain that Holbein must have seen it.
This panel painting, apparently the central part of a triptych, when it
came into the possession of Amerbach was already in a badly-damaged
state, due, no doubt, to injuries received during the religious
disturbances of 1529, which finally helped to drive Holbein for a second
time from Basel. It had been cut in two, and then roughly joined
together, while a piece was missing from either side, so that to-day
only nine apostles remain, though the hands and feet and parts of the
bodies of the others are still to be seen at the sides. It is described
in the Amerbach inventory as “ein nachtmal vf holtz mit olfarb H.
Holbein. Ist zerhöwen vnd wider zusammengeleimbt aber unfletig.” In 1750
it was again reset by Nikolaus Grooth, who repainted and restored it in
a hard and crude fashion, so that it is now very difficult to form any
adequate idea of the original scheme of colour, though the heads still
retain something of their original vigour and expression. The scene is
set in a loggia of plain Renaissance architecture, the blue sky seen
through its arched openings, against which branches of fig or vine stand
out, and a distant tower on the right. Christ, seated in the centre of
the table, with hands spread out before him, is depicted at the moment
when he exclaims, “One of you shall betray me.” This figure, both in the
expressive gesture of the hands, the position of the body, and the type
of features, follows closely the greater figure which evidently inspired
it. The group of St. John, St. Peter, and Judas is also based on the
corresponding group in Leonardo’s fresco. The youthful St. John, seated
next to the Saviour, and turning round to listen to St. Peter, who
stands behind him with his hand resting on St. John’s shoulder, is
admirably conceived and full of character. Judas, seated in front on the
left, rests his chin on his left hand, his strongly marked, almost
grotesque, face, convulsed with conflicting passions, and his right hand
pressed against the seat as though he were about to spring up and rush
from the table. The picture, in spite of the damage it has received,
shows a great advance upon the earlier “Last Supper,” both in power of
expression and technical execution. In its style of painting it has
considerable affinity with the “Noli Me Tangere” in Hampton Court, more
particularly with the distant figures of St. John and St. Peter in the
last-named picture, while the head of St. James, seen in profile, bears
a close resemblance to that of the Risen Christ. The background, too,
displays a decided Italian influence.[172]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 25.


[Illustration:

  THE LAST SUPPER
  Central Panel of a Triptych
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: THE VISIT TO LOMBARDY]

Still stronger evidence of this journey to Lombardy is to be found in
Holbein’s numerous designs for painted glass,[173] which he produced
during the next six or seven years, designs which, in most cases, are
filled round the borders and in the backgrounds with rich and elaborate
architecture based upon Renaissance models. It is difficult to
understand how he could have produced so much work of this nature, so
filled with the beauty and dignity of the style upon which it was
founded, had he not had at least some personal acquaintance with the
original examples upon the far side of the Alps, which these drawings of
his so often suggest. A close comparison of certain of these studies
with the architectural details of some of the splendid Renaissance
buildings which he must have seen if this journey across the plains of
Lombardy did in reality take place, makes it almost certain, although
there are no documentary proofs, that he made drawings and sketches of
some of the principal edifices of Milan, the façade and interior of the
Certosa of Pavia, the monumental tombs of architectural design which are
to be met with throughout Northern Italy, and such cathedral churches as
those of Como and Lugano;[174] and that he must have studied also the
use made by the Italian painters of similar architectural features in
the backgrounds of their frescoes and paintings. It is difficult to
believe that his intimate knowledge of the true principles of that style
were gained merely by the study of a few engravings or isolated
pictures. Here and there, too, in those glass designs in which the
background is a landscape, there is more than one Alpine scene. In the
one with the figure of a Pope or Bishop, in the Basel Gallery (No.
334),[175] there is a view of the old Devil’s Bridge on the Andermatt
route, and the same bridge is to be seen in the “Table of Cebes”
woodcut. There is a view of the Rigi in the background of the woodcut of
“Jacob’s Ladder” in Thomas Wolff’s edition of the Pentateuch, 1523, and,
again, a representation of Lucerne in the woodcut of the “New
Jerusalem,” in the same publisher’s edition of the New Testament, 1523
(Pl. 70 (3)).[176]

In the course of his journey to and from Lombardy he probably made short
halts in more than one Swiss town. Hegner mentions pictures by him in
Coutrai, Zürich, Altorf, and Berne, but the works he enumerates, with
the exception of the painted table at Zürich, are not the work of
Holbein. There are, however, indications that he spent some time in
Altorf, in the canton Uri, from which district it has been suggested
that his family originally came, for the Holbein arms are almost
identical with those of that canton. In the church is a “Head of
Christ,” which local tradition gives to Holbein, and in the Convent of
the Capuchins still hangs a copy of the “Christ in the Tomb” of the
Basel Gallery. The “Head of Christ” has suffered so severely that it is
impossible to-day to say whether it is from his hand; the church
archives, which are said to have contained proofs of its authenticity,
were lost in a fire which occurred in 1799, and did a great amount of
damage, destroying, among other things, an altar-piece of the
“Crucifixion,” attributed to Holbein, painted on canvas, one of the
chief treasures of the church. The version of the “Christ in the Tomb”
in the monastery shows material differences from the original at Basel.
The body of Christ is no longer rigid in death. He has conquered it, and
the artist, whoever he may have been, has represented him as the giver
of eternal life, by means of rays of light which emanate from the
recumbent body. Above the figure is a medallion with the Burial, which
bears little likeness to Holbein’s work. M. Pierre Gauthiez suggests
that this Christ was painted by Holbein when under the immediate
influence of certain Lombard painters, but that it became so badly
damaged in course of time that it was restored and repainted by some not
very skilful worker.[177]

[Sidenote: DESIGNS FOR PAINTED GLASS]

Wherever Holbein may have wandered in search of work, he was back again
in Lucerne early in 1519. The town books contain records of payments
made to him for the painting of certain banners and pennons in the
spring of that year. It was a custom of the Lucernois to plant banners
on the gables and summits of their street fountains, as a signal for
assembly whenever there was question of war; and, in addition to this
custom, small flags of painted cloth were usually to be seen hanging in
such places.[178] On the 19th February 1519, Holbein was paid twelve
schillings for two flags of this kind, which were hung near the
cathedral, and on the 21st May of the same year he received one livre,
one schilling, six heller for banners for the fountain near the convent
of the Franciscans. It was round this fountain of the Cordeliers that
the shoemakers and sellers of various merchandise had their stalls, and
the neighbouring street was the quarter of the glass-painters. For these
latter craftsmen Holbein made several designs. There is one of these in
the Basel Gallery (No. 354), which, however, is not from Holbein’s own
hand, but merely a good workshop copy. It represents the standing figure
of the Virgin with the Child in her arms, under an arch with hanging
garlands, supported by pillars and pilasters with Renaissance ornament
in low relief, and appears to have been drawn in Lucerne, for the
background consists of an admirable little landscape study with a view
of the towers and roofs and the old covered bridge of that city, and
cloud-capped mountains in the background.[179] It was, however, designed
for some citizen of Basel, and may, therefore, have been done after he
had left Lucerne, and the background sketched in from memory. It forms
the left-hand half of a double window containing the patron saints of
Basel, of which the right-hand half still exists in the original glass
in the cloisters of Wettingen, representing the Emperor Heinrich II
holding a model of the minster, and with a shield containing the arms of
Basel at his feet. In its architectural details this window agrees with
the “Virgin and Child” drawing in the Amerbach Collection, which is in
pen and wash and lightly coloured.

A second window design, also in the Amerbach Collection, dated 1518, and
signed “H.H.,” represents the arms of State-councillor Holdermeier of
Lucerne.[180] Under an open archway with pillars inlaid with marble
stand three peasants with grotesque head-dresses, busily talking,
conceived by the artist with considerable humour. One rests on his
scythe, another carries a sack over his shoulder, while the one in the
middle holds a basket of eggs. Over the centre of the arch is a small
tablet with the date, and on either side of it, in the spandrils,
peasants are shown at work in the fields, mowing and reaping. In the
centre foreground is placed a shield with the Holdermeier arms. A third
design for painted glass of this period with the arms of Hans
Fleckenstein of Lucerne, and dated 1517, is in the Brunswick Gallery,
and was lent to the Holbein Exhibition in Basel in 1897-8.[181]

Two other existing designs appear to belong to Holbein’s Lucerne period.
The first is the very beautiful drawing in the Basel Gallery of the
Archangel Michael as the Weigher of Souls (Pl. 26).[182] It is evidently
a drawing for a wooden statue. The Archangel Michael as the Soul Weigher
was the patron saint of the cloisters of Beromünster, near Lucerne, and
most probably, according to Dr. Ganz, this design was a commission from
Holbein’s patrons, Peter and Jakob von Hertenstein. Jakob was feoffee of
the cloisters, and Peter, canon of Basel, was from 1483 until his death
in 1519 also canon of the minster. He had his own private chapel, to
which he presented various works of art, including a window of painted
glass with a representation of the Archangel, which is now in the
Lucerne Museum.[183] The winged figure of the youthful saint stands
erect upon a slight carved bracket, raising a great sword over his head
with one hand, and with the other holding a large pair of scales just
clear of the ground, in one of which is Satan, with wings and a long
curled tail, and in the other a naked child with a nimbus, representing
the soul. St. Michael, too, wears a nimbus above his masses of curled
hair, and gazes down with a smile on the upturned face of the Evil One,
whom he is about to strike with his sword. He is clad in clinging
drapery, which leaves one leg bare, and a breastplate richly chased with
a Renaissance flower-and-leaf design, a long cloak falling from his
shoulders to the ground. The figure displays extraordinary grace and
energy, and in the beauty of its conception and its draughtsmanship
recalls the best work of the Italian painters, and was evidently
accomplished immediately after his return from Lombardy, when the
stimulus of that journey was still at its highest and strongest.

The second drawing, in Indian ink, with pen and bistre outlines, in the
British Museum (No. 14), is a round composition nearly nine inches in
diameter, representing miners at work on the face of a mountain side
(Pl. 27).[184] In the foreground is a rocky platform on which two men
are driving wedges into the rock with hammers with long pliant handles.
Others are working with smaller hammers, and one, with a lantern
fastened to his cap, is mounting to the platform by a ladder. Above them
another man is ascending in the same way to a higher part of the quarry,
while from an opening on the right a miner is pushing a truck full of
ore along a wooden bridge, and another, down below, is raking the stone
into a tray. Various wooden huts are placed here and there on the
ledges. According to Dr. E. His, this drawing was in Basel in the
sixteenth century, and was then copied by an unknown artist as an
illustration to a manuscript book on mining by Andreas Ryff. It was
probably made by Holbein in the neighbourhood of the St. Gotthard Pass,
on his way to or from Lombardy.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 26.


[Illustration:

  THE ARCHANGEL MICHAEL AS WEIGHER OF SOULS
  _Drawing in Indian ink_
  BASEL GALLERY
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 27.


[Illustration:

  MINERS AT WORK
  _Drawing in Indian ink, pen, and bistre_
  BRITISH MUSEUM
]

[Sidenote: SACRED PICTURES FORMERLY IN LUCERNE]

Patin mentions five pictures painted by Holbein which in his day were in
the church of the Augustines in Lucerne—a “Nativity,” the “Adoration of
the Kings,” “Christ disputing with the Doctors,” a “Sancta Veronica,”
and a “Taking down from the Cross,”[185] but Hegner could find no traces
of them. They probably formed a triptych. M. Gauthiez suggests that
these pictures were the result of his study of the paintings of the
Lombard masters, the titles alone suggesting a list of works by
Luini.[186]

The last-named of these pictures, the “Taking down from the Cross”—in
which, according to Patin’s description, Christ’s body was on the
ground, the head resting on the Virgin’s lap, and surrounded by Mary
Magdalene, Saint John, Nicodemus, and other persons, with the two
thieves still on the Cross—was still in the church in the middle of the
seventeenth century. Two sketches exist, with notes as to the colour,
and an inscription stating that they were drawn in Lucerne from
Holbein’s altar-piece in the church of the Augustines by C. Meyer in
1648. Dr. Ganz has recently published a copy of this picture,[187] which
is in Palermo, and draws attention to the fact that it agrees in
dimensions with the lost original, which was in the possession of the
painter Marquard Wocher in Basel in 1834, at which time it was copied by
the painter Hieronymus Hess. Another copy, half the size of the
original, was exhibited at the Exhibition of Early German Art at the
Burlington Fine Arts Club in 1906, and a third is still in the sacristy
of one of the Lucerne churches. In addition, there is a drawing of the
group of the two chief figures, Christ and the Virgin, in the Basel
Gallery,[188] a free copy of the central group of Christ and the Virgin,
signed H. H. W. and H. H. It was done towards the end of the sixteenth
century either by Hans Jörg Wannewetsch of Basel, or Hans Heinrich
Wegmann of Lucerne.


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                               CHAPTER V

                            CITIZEN OF BASEL

Holbein’s return to Basel—Enters the Painters’ Guild “zum
  Himmel”—Becomes a burgher—His marriage—Portrait of Bonifacius
  Amerbach—The Amerbach Collection—Church pictures—The “Nativity” and
  “Adoration of the Kings” at Freiburg—Hans Oberried—The altar-piece of
  the “Passion of Christ” at Basel—Italian influences in his work—The
  “Noli Me Tangere” at Hampton Court—“Christ as the Man of Sorrows” and
  “Mary as Mater Dolorosa”—Designs for sacred pictures or
  wall-paintings—The “Dead Christ in the Tomb”—The Solothurn
  Madonna—History of the picture—“St. Ursula” and “St. George” at
  Karlsruhe—The organ doors of Basel Cathedral.


IN the summer or autumn of 1519 Holbein was back again in Basel. His
return may have been due to lack of sufficient employment in Lucerne, or
it may be that he was recalled by news of the death of his brother
Ambrosius. As already pointed out, no traces of the latter can be found
after this year, and it is generally supposed that he died about this
time. If such were the case, it is natural that Hans should return, in
order to wind up his brother’s affairs, and it may be, to complete any
commissions he may have left unfinished. Slight indications, also, of a
visit to his father, who was then working in Isenheim, not far from
Basel, are perhaps afforded by his designs for painted glass at Murbach
and Andlau, described in a later chapter, which he produced in the
following year.[189] He now made Basel his permanent residence, and from
that time until he came to England, seven years later, he was very
busily employed in painting portraits, altar-pieces for churches,
decorating house-fronts and interiors, and supplying designs for book
illustrations, and for the glass-painters, armourers, and metal-workers
of his adopted city.

On September 25, 1519, he became a member of the Painters’ Guild, the
“Zunft zum Himmel.” The entry runs: “Item, Hans Holbein the painter has
been received into the Guild on Sunday before St. Michael’s Day, in the
year 1519, and has sworn to preserve the statutes of the Guild like
every other Guild brother of the painters.” (“Item es hat die Zunfft
entffangen Hans Holbein der moller vff suntag vor sant michelss Dag im
XVCXIX jor vnd hat geschworen Der Zunft ordnung zu halten wie ein ander
Zunfftbruder der moller.”[190] His coat of arms,[191] a black bull’s
head with ringed nose, on a yellow or gold ground, surmounted by a red
star between the horns, and with “Hans Holbein de maller” inscribed
above it, painted at the time he was admitted a member, remained in the
Guild Chamber until modern times, and is now in the Basel Historical
Museum. The entrance fee was one pound three shillings. He soon appears
to have become an important member of the confraternity, for in the
following year, on June 25, 1520, he was elected chamber-master of the
Guild, as set forth in the treasurer’s book. A few days afterwards, on
July 3, 1520, he obtained the rights of citizenship; probably a
residence of twelve months was necessary before the freedom of the city
could be obtained, and Holbein had now been back in Basel for about a
year. The entry in the town book runs as follows:—“Item, Tuesday before
St. Ulrich’s Day anno 20 Hans Holbein of Augsburg, painter, has received
the right of citizenship, and has sworn in the customary manner.” (“Item
Zinstag vor Vlrici anno XX 1st Hans Holbeinen von Augspurg dem maler das
burgrecht glichenn. Et juravit pro ut moris est.”)[192] Less than a
month afterwards his name occurs, on the 1st of August 1520, in the
records of the Court of Justice. The wife of the painter Michel Schuman
sued him for a debt of eight pounds, which he was condemned to pay, a
proceeding recalling similar monetary difficulties in his father’s life.

[Sidenote: BECOMES A BURGHER AND MARRIES]

It was probably about the same time that Holbein married Elsbeth Schmid,
the widow of a tanner, with one son named Franz, who afterwards followed
the occupation of his father. It appears possible, therefore, that she
may have been possessed of some means, and that she carried on the
tannery business until her son was of age. Perhaps both marriage and
citizenship were necessary qualifications for membership of the Guild
“zum Himmel,” as was the case with other guilds elsewhere, and some such
regulation may have been one of the chief causes which brought about
Holbein’s early marriage. In Breslau, for instance, a painter who wished
to settle in the town as a master was obliged to be married, or if not,
must have taken a wife within a year and a day of his entry into the
Guild, under a penalty of ten marks.[193] Additional proof that the
marriage must have taken place in 1520 or 1521 is afforded by the
Solothurn “Madonna,” dated 1522, for which Holbein’s wife and infant son
served as the models for the Virgin and Child.

A few weeks after his admittance into the Guild, Holbein finished one of
the most beautiful portraits of his Basel period—that of Bonifacius
Amerbach, to whose unfailing admiration of Holbein’s art the present
fine collection of his works in the Basel Gallery is due. Bonifacius was
the youngest of the three sons of Hans Amerbach, the scholar, and
afterwards printer and publisher, who, born in Reutlingen, settled in
Basel in 1484, where he set up a printing-press which soon became
famous, and attracted a number of learned men, who assisted him in
preparing books and translations for publication, which included several
fine editions of the early Fathers. His three sons were all brilliant
scholars. Bonifacius, born in 1492, was about five years older than
Holbein. His education was a very thorough one, and while pursuing his
studies he was closely associated with various scholars of an older
generation than his own, such as Conrad Leontorius, Gebwiler, Beatus
Rhenanus, and the Franciscan monk, Johann Conon of Nuremburg, under whom
he studied Greek. Later on he went to the University of Freiburg, where
he lived with Ulrich Zasius, who was both his teacher and friend. He
afterwards continued the study of the law at Avignon under Alciat, and
at Montpellier, and in 1525 received the appointment of professor of law
in the Basel University. He became a close friend of Erasmus, hardly a
day passing without some intercourse between them. The elder scholar,
who had the highest admiration for his abilities and learning, grew to
regard him almost as a son, and appointed him his heir. Contemporary
references to him speak not only of his great scholastic gifts, but of
the modesty and amiability of his character, his integrity, his lively
wit, and his talent for music and poetry. One such reference, quoted by
Hegner,[194] speaks of him as a tall man, with a charming countenance,
who made use of brave, serious language, and appeared modestly attired
in a long coat.

It is to be assumed from Amerbach’s enthusiasm in collecting every
picture, drawing, and design by Holbein which he could find, that the
two young men became personal friends, or, at least, that their
acquaintance, first made in the latter’s painting-room, grew to be a
closer one than was usually formed between sitter and artist in days
when the painter and his craft were not always very highly considered,
or his social standing more than a very modest one. Amerbach also
collected pictures and sketches by other artists, and engravings, coins,
and antiquities of all kinds. Upon his death in 1562 his son Basilius
inherited the collection, and, inheriting also the artistic tastes of
his father, he added, in course of time, a number of important examples,
among them various works by Holbein, including the copy of the _Praise
of Folly_ with the marginal drawings. In 1586 he drew up an inventory
and catalogue of the collection, which by that time had obtained
considerable reputation. It remained in the possession of his
descendants until the middle of the seventeenth century, when it was
offered for sale, and was purchased by his native city for the very
moderate price of 9000 rix-dollars in the summer of 1662. In addition to
examples of metal-work, ivory carvings, coins, and various objects of
decorative art, the collection contained forty-nine paintings, of which
fifteen were attributed to Holbein, and a chest of thirty-seven drawers,
all full of sketches and engravings, among them one hundred and four
original drawings by Holbein, a sketch-book with eighty-five studies,
one hundred and eleven woodcuts after his designs, the illustrated
_Praise of Folly_, and two copies each of the “Dance of Death” and “Old
Testament” woodcuts. Modern criticism has somewhat reduced these
numbers, but the collection is one of extraordinary value, and, thanks
to the energy and artistic taste of the father and son who formed it,
and thus preserved many examples which otherwise would have been
scattered and lost, it is possible for the Holbein student of to-day to
obtain very adequate knowledge of much that the great artist
accomplished during the earlier half of his life.[195]

[Sidenote: BONIFACIUS AMERBACH]

In Holbein’s portrait of Bonifacius Amerbach, in the Basel Gallery (No.
314) (Pl. 28),[196] the jurist is represented to the shoulders, almost
in profile to the spectator’s left, a little less than the size of life.
He wears a black velvet cap and a black gown with a fur collar, open to
show the under-vest of blue-green damask and small white ruff round the
neck. The fine, handsome face, with its prominent nose, is of a warm,
ruddy complexion, and the bushy hair, which almost hides the ears, and
the beard and moustache, are of chestnut colour. On a tree-trunk on the
left hangs a large framed tablet with a Latin inscription, probably
composed by Erasmus, in which the picture itself is made to extol the
art of the painter for its truth to nature. Below these lines the names
of the artist and the sitter, and the date, October 14, 1519, are given—


     “BON · AMORBACCHIVM ·
      IO · HOLBEIN · DEPINGEBAT ·
      A · M̅ · D̅ · X̅I̅X̅̅ · PRID · EID · OCTOBR.”

The head stands out against a pale blue-green sky, with the snow-covered
crests of the Schneeberg in the distant background, and the branch of a
vine or fig-tree on the right. The richness and transparency of the
colour is remarkable; it is, perhaps, of all Holbein’s portraits the
most transparent in effect, with no trace of the dryness which sometimes
characterises his later work.[197] In technical execution it shows a
considerable advance on the earlier portraits of Meyer and his wife and
of Benedikt von Hertenstein, the modelling and the minute and accurate
draughtsmanship of the details, such as the beard and the hair, being
already almost as masterly and assured as in his greatest portraits
painted fourteen or fifteen years later. As a study of character and
expression, too, it is very striking. The combined strength and
refinement of Amerbach’s nature, and the kindliness and sense of humour
which shine from his deep blue eyes, below projecting brows, have been
admirably rendered, and in many ways the portrait shows that Holbein had
already attained almost, if not quite, to the full maturity of his
powers. In it, too, can be seen for the first time in his portraiture
the practical application of the experience he must have gained during
his visit to Italy, for in the lighter, gayer, scheme of colour, and the
change in technique, which gradually developed into the enamel-like
surface of his flesh tints which is so characteristic a feature of his
English portraits, the influence of the painters of Lombardy, such as
Leonardo, Mantegna, Luini, and others, is plainly evident.[198] In the
Amerbach inventory it is described as: “Meines vatters conterfehtung in
der iugend H. Holbeins vf holz mit ölfarb.” There is an old copy of it
in the Karlsruhe Gallery.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 28.


[Illustration:

  BONIFACIUS AMERBACH
  1519
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: SACRED PAINTINGS FOR CHURCHES]

During the first years of his citizenship Holbein received a number of
commissions for sacred paintings for churches, including the cathedral.
For the last-named building he painted the great folding doors of the
organ-case, and possibly the altar-piece, now lost, of which, however,
the wings, with scenes from the Passion, remain, among the most valued
possessions of the Basel Gallery. A still earlier connection with the
cathedral works is proved by an entry in the Bishop’s court-treasury
accounts for September 1520; and that at this time, only a month or two
after he had taken up his rights of citizenship, he was not too proud to
undertake tasks of the humblest kind, is shown by the nature of the
commission, which was merely for the painting over of some
stonework.[199] Only a few of his sacred works have survived. Others, no
doubt, were destroyed during the religious disturbances of 1529, when so
many of the pictures and works of art in the Basel churches were burnt
or shattered to pieces by the mob.

Old copies or engravings exist of several of these destroyed pictures,
so that some idea can be obtained of the originals. In all instances
they appear to be works of the early Basel period. Earliest of all,
possibly one of the very first pictures painted by him in that city, is
a “Christ on the Cross between Mary and John,” of which there is a copy
in the Basel Gallery. This copy, according to the Amerbach inventory,
was made by a Bavarian painter, Jakob Clauser, a contemporary and
associate of Holbein. A painting of “Christ taken Prisoner,” some years
later in date, is now only known from an engraving by W. Akersloot, done
in 1664. This is a very fine composition, with striking effects of
lighting produced by the flaming torches and a large lantern carried by
the soldiers, recalling the earlier picture in the first “Passion”
series on canvas, as well as “The Arrest” in the Basel altar-piece and
the “Adoration of the Shepherds” at Freiburg. There are also two
etchings by Hollar after two lost works by Holbein, one representing the
“Lamentations over Christ after the taking down from the Cross”
(Parthey, 109), which appears to have been the central panel of a
triptych, and the other a figure of “St. Barbara” in a landscape
(Parthey, 176), which bears a close resemblance to the glass design
representing the same saint in the Basel Gallery, described in a later
chapter.[200] Finally, there is a series of nine paintings on canvas,
representing the Prophets, shown in pairs, now in the Basel Gallery, and
coming from the Faesch Collection. According to the Faesch inventory,
these are copies made by Bartholomäus Sarburgh after Holbein, and Patin
states that the originals, which have now disappeared, were taken by
Sarburgh to Belgium.[201] These copies and engravings have all been
reproduced by Dr. Ganz in his latest work on the master.[202]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 29.


[Illustration:

  ADORATION OF THE SHEPHERDS
  Inner side of the left wing
  of the Oberried Altar-piece
  UNIVERSITY CHAPEL, FREIBURG MINSTER
]


[Illustration:

  ADORATION OF THE KINGS
  Inner side of the right wing
  of the Oberried Altar-piece
  UNIVERSITY CHAPEL, FREIBURG MINSTER
]

[Sidenote: “THE NATIVITY”]

Among those which escaped the fury of the iconoclasts only one or two
are dated, but all of them were produced between the years 1519 and
1526. One of the earliest, “The Last Supper,” has been already
described; two others of about the same date are now in the University
Chapel of the minster at Freiburg-im-Breisgau. They are the two wings of
an altar-piece, with curved tops, representing “The Nativity” and “The
Adoration of the Kings” (Pl. 29).[203] In both panels the artist has
striven to achieve striking contrasts of light and shade. In “The
Nativity” the figures, which are very small, are placed amid the ruined
splendours of some palace of Renaissance architecture, with tall marble
pillars, carved capitals, and shattered arches, through which the light
of the moon, cloud-obscured, glimmers faintly. The chief illumination
emanates from the Infant Christ, who lies, a small nude figure, on his
white-covered little bed. The soft, supernatural brilliance lights up
the faces and figures of Mary and Joseph, who bend over the Child in
adoration. This unusual effect of lighting is also to be found in a
second painting of “The Nativity” in Freiburg Minster, a fine example of
the work of Hans Baldung Grien, completed in 1516; and again in
Correggio’s famous “Night,” painted some years later. In Holbein’s
picture this light also plays over the small angels who surround the
bed, and less brightly on the figure of one of the shepherds peering
round a pillar on the left, and on the undersides of the arches
overhead. The wings of the attendant angels, instead of springing from
the shoulders, grow along and form part of the arms, apparently an
original conception of the painter’s.[204] In the distance, forming a
radiant patch of light amid the darkness of the background, is seen the
angel who is hastening to carry the glad tidings to the shepherds.
Above, in the sky, the moon also bends and does homage to the new-born
Child; to suggest this, Holbein has represented its disc as turned down
towards the bed, and foreshortened.[205] The source from which this
arrangement was taken was the passage in the Apocrypha: “And behold the
cave was filled with a light, surpassing the brilliancy of tapers and
torches and greater than sunlight.” The effect of the gradually
diminishing radiance, which finally loses itself amid the dimly seen
ruins, where it mingles with the pale effulgence of the moon, has been
finely rendered, and though the picture has suffered some damage, it
still retains much of its charm, particularly in the small figures of
the angels with their graceful gestures.

In the “Adoration of the Kings,” the personages are grouped in front of
a great half-ruined building, more massive and less ornate than the one
in the “Nativity,” whose walls and broken towers, upon which vegetation
grows, recede into the distance. Overhead shines the Star of Bethlehem,
which has guided the kings on their journey, so bright, in spite of the
clouds which partly veil it, as to make the daylight seem almost dark.
One of the members of the retinue is gazing upwards at it, and is forced
to shield his eyes with his hand, so great is its brilliance. The Virgin
is seated with the Child on her knees, before whom the eldest king, an
old man with a long grey beard, and dressed in a red robe and a large
ermine cape, is kneeling in adoration and offering a golden cup. On the
left stands the Moorish king, in white, waiting his turn to present his
gifts, and in front of him is a greyhound, which also is looking towards
the Child. The second of the three worshippers is on the right, a
dark-bearded man, with white ribbons fluttering from his crown, and his
offering held in front of him. Numerous figures of attendants are seen
in the background. In both pictures the head of Mary is a very
expressive one. In a narrow compartment at the bottom of each panel the
donor, Hans Oberried, and his family are represented kneeling in a long
row. On the one side, under the “Nativity,” are the donor and his six
sons; on the other, under the “Adoration,” his wife, Amalie
Tschekkenbürlin, and his four daughters. At the front of each row of
figures is a shield with the coat of arms of the two families.

These two panels, which were once the wings of an arched altar-piece,
the centre panel of which has disappeared, have suffered considerably in
the course of their wanderings, more particularly the “Adoration,” from
injudicious repaintings and repairs, so that much of the beauty of the
original colouring has been lost. They appear to have been among
Holbein’s earliest sacred works after his return from Lucerne, and in
them German and Italian influences are commingled; but in spite of their
charm and _naïveté_, they do not show that mastery of technique which is
already to be found in such a portrait as that of Amerbach, though this
no doubt is largely owing to repairs and restoration by some later hand.
This less assured touch is particularly noticeable in the figures of the
donor and his family.

They were a commission from the merchant Hans Oberried, a native of
Freiburg, at the time a town councillor of Basel, in which town he had
been resident for nearly thirty years, but who, as an adherent of the
Catholic party, was dismissed from office during the religious
disturbances of 1529. He therefore renounced his citizenship, and, like
Erasmus and Amerbach, left the town and returned to Freiburg, where
members of his family still lived. It has been suggested that he ordered
this altar-piece of Holbein for presentation to the church of the
Carthusian Monastery in Basel, in which a near relative of his wife’s,
Hieronymus Tschekkenbürlin, was prior. This monastery was in Little
Basel, where the Catholic party were in the ascendant, so that some of
their pictures and church ornaments were saved from the fury of the mob.
Oberried may, therefore, have succeeded in carrying off the two panels
with him, though forced to leave the centre one behind, as too big for
concealment. His name occurs on one occasion in the Basel town records
in connection with Holbein. On September 14, 1521, the Council paid to
him a sum of money due to the painter—probably in connection with the
Town Hall wall-paintings—which was possibly in discharge of a debt which
the councillor had failed to obtain from the artist.[206]

Oberried died in the same year as the painter, 1543, but the two panels
do not appear to have been placed in the chapel of the minster until
October 17, 1554, on which day the altar over which they hang was
consecrated. With the exception of two short intervals, they have
remained ever since in Freiburg. During the Thirty Years War they were
sent to Schaffhausen for safety. From there the Elector Maximilian I of
Bavaria had them brought to Munich for his inspection, and later on they
were taken to Ratisbon, in order to be shown to the Emperor Ferdinand
III. In 1796 they were carried away by the French, but were returned
from Colmar in 1808.[207] They were then replaced over the altar of the
University Chapel in the choir of the minster, where they still remain,
the only church paintings by Holbein still to be found hanging within
the walls of a consecrated building. About the time of their return from
France they appear to have undergone a severe restoration.

[Sidenote: “PASSION OF CHRIST” ALTAR-PIECE]

The altar-piece in the Basel Gallery (No. 315) (Pl. 30),[208] consisting
of eight scenes from the Passion of Christ, on four upright panels,
forming the wings of a triptych, was evidently painted after Holbein’s
return from those wanderings which took him for a short period over the
Alps, for in composition and colour-scheme it displays a marked North
Italian influence. At one time it was regarded throughout Switzerland as
Holbein’s masterpiece. Nothing is known of its early history, but it was
held in the highest estimation throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries. According to tradition, it was originally painted for the
cathedral of Basel, and was, by some means or other, saved from
destruction during the troubles of 1529. In this case tradition appears
to have probability on its side.[209] On November 5, 1770, it was
removed from the Basel Town Hall, where it had been hanging for more
than two hundred years, and was placed in the Library among the other
art treasures of the city, in which building the collection was housed
until the present Gallery was built. Numerous early references to it are
to be found which testify to its great reputation in the past. Sandrart
was enthusiastic in its praises. “The most excellent and the crown of
all his art,” he wrote, “is the Passion of Christ, painted on a panel in
eight compartments, and preserved in the Town Hall at Basel; a work in
which all that art can do is to be found, both as regards the devotion
and the grace of the persons represented, whether religious or secular,
or of a higher or lower class, and with respect to the figures,
building, landscape, day and night. This panel testifies to the honour
and fame of its master, giving place to none either in Germany or Italy,
and justly bearing the laurel wreath among ancient works.”[210]

Sandrart, when painting the portrait of Maximilian I of Bavaria, who was
a great art-collector, spoke so highly of this work that the latter
determined to possess it. He is said to have offered the Baselers any
price they liked to put upon it; and, having already succeeded in
tempting the Nurembergers to part with Dürer’s “Apostles,” although the
painter had bequeathed them to his native city, he hoped to be equally
successful in this instance; but the Basel councillors were less
mercenary, and refused his offer.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 30.


[Illustration]

[Illustration:

  THE PASSION OF CHRIST
  Outer sides of the Wings of an Altar-Piece
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: “PASSION OF CHRIST” ALTAR-PIECE]

In more recent days this altar-piece has been subjected to severe and
unfavourable criticism. Rumohr refused to accept Holbein as its author,
and Mr. Wornum regarded it as a careful work by the elder Holbein,
though better in grouping and decoration than was usual with him. He
could not see in it any sign of the younger Holbein’s stupendous power
of grasping and representing individual character, and thought that
though the composition might possibly be his, the actual painting was
certainly the work of some other hand.[211] Unfortunately, in 1771,
immediately after the picture’s transference from the Town Hall to the
Library, it was placed in the hands of Nikolaus Grooth of Stuttgart for
restoration, who succeeded only too well in removing all the original
beauty of the colouring, though leaving the drawing much as he found it.
Though following to the best of his ability Holbein’s colour-scheme, he
completely destroyed its harmony, and obliterated all signs of the
delicacy of the painter’s brushwork by the garish tones and smooth
finish which he gave to the whole surface.[212] The picture thus retains
little of its early beauty, charm, and freshness, but in spite of the
superadded paint of the restorer, it is an undoubted and an important
work by the master of about the year 1520. This can be seen most
clearly, perhaps, when the picture is studied from photographs, in which
the eye is not misled by gaudy and inharmonious colour. It is, no doubt,
owing to this painful restoration that more than one earlier writer has
refused to regard it as Holbein’s handiwork. On the other hand, Woltmann
was of opinion that Grooth’s restoration was limited to careful cleaning
and slight retouching, and he states that this is proved by existing
records in the minutes of the University.[213] The general effect of the
small pictures of which it is composed is also marred by the heavy
upright bars of the gold frame which divide each wing into two parts.

The top is circular, and Holbein has divided each panel into two by a
horizontal band of scroll and leaf ornament in gold. The four scenes in
the upper half, running from left to right, are “Christ on the Mount of
Olives,” “The Kiss of Judas,” “Christ before the High Priest,” and “The
Scourging”; and in the lower half, “Christ Mocked,” “Christ bearing the
Cross,” “The Crucifixion,” and “The Burial.” This arrangement gives a
series of high, narrow compartments, about 26 in. high by 13 in. wide,
and in the filling of them the artist has adapted his composition to
this somewhat unusual shape with remarkable skill.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 31.


[Illustration:

  CHRIST BEARING THE CROSS
  Details of the outer sides of the wings of the “Passion” Altar-piece
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Illustration:

  THE CRUCIFIXION
  Details of the outer sides of the wings of the “Passion” Altar-piece
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: “NOLI ME TANGERE” AT HAMPTON COURT]

In spite of the cruel treatment to which it has been subjected, enough
of Holbein’s original work remains to show a striking advance in
composition, power of conception, and dramatic feeling when compared
with the “Passion” pictures produced by the two brothers some four or
five years earlier. Each one of the subjects forms a small but complete
picture in itself, but at the same time they have been combined, by a
judicious arrangement of light and shade, into one harmonious whole. In
each composition the story is told with considerable dramatic force, and
the facial types are in most cases less grotesque than in the earlier
“Passion,” in which an exaggerated ugliness of feature is made use of in
order to bring home to the spectator the hateful character of the
persecutors of Christ. Here and there the drawing is somewhat faulty,
more particularly where violent action is shown, as in the movements of
the soldiers with whips and rods in “The Scourging.” In several of the
scenes the lighting is managed with admirable effect. In “Christ on the
Mount of Olives” the black darkness of the night is brightly illuminated
by the flying angel upholding the Cross, the radiance falling upon the
uplifted face of the kneeling Saviour and on the heads of the disciples
sleeping at his side, while in the distance the light from a single
torch glitters on the helmets of the advancing soldiers. In the next two
scenes the light comes entirely from the torches of the soldiery. In the
“Kiss of Judas” it illuminates the trunk and lower branches of a great
tree, the heads of Christ and Judas, and the uplifted spears and
battle-axes of the mob of gesticulating and shouting men who are roughly
binding their captive. In the foreground St. Peter, kneeling over the
body of Malchus, holds the knife aloft with which he is about to strike
off the latter’s ear. The scene is full of dramatic movement. In “Christ
before the High Priest,” the torches light up the front of an elaborate
Renaissance building and the raised seat of Caiaphas. Both the
“Scourging” and “Mocking” take place within the interior of an equally
elaborate edifice, with large arches and marble pillars, the light in
the former coming through circular windows. In the “Scourging” the
utmost vehemence is displayed in the actions of the soldiers; in the
“Mocking” the figure of Christ has great nobility of character. In
“Christ bearing the Cross” (Pl. 31 (1)) the foreground is crowded with
figures issuing through the gateway of the town, one of the round towers
of which rises to the top of the picture, while in the distance are seen
the walls and roofs and bridges of a city by a river, with horsemen and
other figures, and lofty snow mountains in the background. In “Christ on
the Cross” (Pl. 31 (2)) the three crucified figures stand out strongly
against an inky black background. In the final scene the dead body of
Christ is borne across a green meadow towards the entrance to the tomb,
which is cut in a lofty rock, in the fissures of which trees and bushes
are growing, while some way off the Virgin and others with her stand
overcome with grief. The whole composition of this altar-piece shows the
influence of Holbein’s Italian visit in more ways than one; and in it he
has abandoned to a very great extent the earlier practice of his country
in the figures of his soldiers, who are no longer dressed in the German
costume of his day, but in the Roman helmet and accoutrements such as he
must have seen in contemporary Italian pictures, more particularly those
of Mantegna. Although the types of some of the heads are distinctly
German, recalling similar heads in his father’s pictures and his own
earlier works, the predominating influence is Italian. At about the time
of his visit to Italy Luini and Gaudenzio Ferrari were at work together
upon the screen for the ancona in the chapel of Sant’ Abbondio in the
cathedral at Como, and it is suggested, not only that Holbein must have
studied this, and earlier works by the two Italian masters in the same
building, such as the great altar-piece in the Sant’ Abbondio Chapel now
regarded as largely Ferrari’s work, and the beautiful altar-piece by
Luini in the neighbouring chapel of St. Jerome, but that possibly he
also entered the studio of one or the other of them for a short period.
Reminiscences of Ferrari in particular can be traced in this and other
sacred paintings produced by Holbein at about this time.[214] For his
background motives he appears to have made use in some instances of
buildings close at hand; in others traces of his journey over the Alps
can be seen. Thus, in the “Scourging” the setting recalls the Romanesque
architecture of the neighbouring church of Othmarsheim, that of the
“Mocking” the interior of the cathedral of Basel, while the round tower
in the “Cross-Bearing” resembles the flanking towers to one of the gates
of the same city.[215]

The small picture of “Mary Magdalen at the Holy Sepulchre,” or “Noli Me
Tangere,”[216] in Hampton Court Palace (No. 599) (Pl. 32), is closely
allied to the Basel altar-piece, and was probably painted at about the
same period, possibly in 1520 or the following year. The light of dawn
is stealing over the landscape, driving away the darkness of night, well
suggesting “the early morning, when it was yet dark.” On the right rises
a great rock, with trees and bushes growing over it, and at its base the
square opening of the tomb, from which issues a dim, supernatural light,
making visible the two angels in white raiment seated at the head and
foot of the grave. In the centre of the foreground stands Mary Magdalen,
a look of wonder on her face, holding a marble vase of spikenard in her
left hand, and the right stretched out towards the risen Christ, who
shrinks back, both hands held up with a gesture of repulsion, as he
exclaims, “Touch Me not.” Mary’s head is bound with a turban, and a dark
cloak almost covers her dress. This figure is reminiscent of an Italian
model. In the distance are seen the small figures of Peter and John,
hastening away from the empty sepulchre to spread the news of the
Resurrection. Peter, still doubting his eyes, is eagerly gesticulating
as he strides over the ground, while John, who “saw and believed,” walks
more calmly by his side. Behind them rises a tall tree into the dim
morning sky, of the pyramidal shape so familiar in Italian paintings of
the period, while in the background the breaking dawn lights the crosses
on Calvary. It is, as Knackfuss says, “a wonderful masterpiece of
poetical painting.”[217]

The face of Our Lord bears a strong resemblance to that of the Christ in
the “Christ before the High Priest” subject in the Basel altar-piece.
Indeed, both in treatment and feeling, there is a close resemblance
between these two works. The landscape in the Hampton Court picture has
much in common with that of “Christ on the Mount of Olives” and of “The
Entombment” of the altar-painting. In the latter, too, is to be found
the same bush-grown rock of yellow colour, with the square opening of
the sepulchre, while in each picture the light and shade and colouring
are much alike.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 32.


[Illustration:

  “NOLI ME TANGERE”
  Christ appearing to Mary Magdalen
  HAMPTON COURT
]

When attention was first called to this work some forty years ago,
critics were divided in their opinions as to its authorship. Dr.
Woltmann ascribed it to Bartholomäus Bruyn, and several other names in
place of Holbein’s have been suggested from time to time. His latest
English biographer, Mr. Gerald Davies, assigns it to “a painter of the
German school, who had probably seen and been deeply influenced by the
grave and earnest works of Holbein at Basel.” “Neither on the grounds of
its design nor of its technique,” he says, “do I find myself able to
accept it as a work of Holbein,” and he proceeds to draw attention to
“the angular and uncouth projection of the forward leg in the figure of
our Lord, an exaggeration which is repeated with even more unnatural
emphasis in the distant figure of St. Peter as he walks and gesticulates
at the side of St. John. The action, moreover, of the hands of the chief
figure, intended to be expressive of the “Noli Me Tangere,” is somewhat
exaggerated and theatrical.”[218] He calls attention to other details
which he thinks prove that the work cannot be from Holbein’s brush. The
type of the head, however, and the action of the hands, as well as the
position of the feet, very closely resemble more than one of Holbein’s
small figures in his designs for woodcuts, more particularly the Christ
in one of the little pictures on the frontispiece to Coverdale’s Bible,
in which the action is almost identical, while other instances could be
given. The picture has suffered in the course of time, and, like the
Basel altar-piece, has not escaped repainting in parts, but remains
nevertheless an undoubted example of Holbein’s sacred art at, or shortly
after, the period when he had just settled down in Basel as a member of
the Guild “zum Himmel.” Modern German criticism is agreed as to its
authorship. Dr. Ganz places it at the end of Holbein’s first visit to
England.

[Sidenote: “NOLI ME TANGERE” AT HAMPTON COURT]

This picture has been in the royal collections of England since the
reign of Henry VIII, and in the inventory of his pictures at Whitehall,
taken at his death in 1547, it was entered as “Item, a table with the
picture of our Lord appearing to Mary Magdalen” (No. 33), while it
occurs again in that of James II (No. 520), “Our Saviour appearing to
Mary Magdalen in the garden.” That in those early days the picture was
regarded as a work of Holbein’s is proved by an entry in Evelyn’s
_Diary_, under the date September 2, 1680, describing several days spent
by him in the examination of the contents of the library and private
rooms at Whitehall during the absence of Charles II at Windsor. He says:
“In the rest of the private lodgings contiguous to this (_i.e._ the
library), are divers of the best pictures of the great masters, Raphael,
Titian, &c., and, in my esteeme, above all, the _Noli me tangere of our
blessed Saviour to Mary Magdalen after his Resurrection_, of Hans
Holbein, then which I never saw so much reverence and kind of heavenly
astonishment express’d in a picture.” Nothing is known of its earlier
history, or how it came to England, but it is not unnatural to suppose
that it was brought over by Holbein himself, as an easily portable
example of his powers as a painter of sacred subjects. It is doubly
valuable as being the only work by him of this particular class now
remaining in this country. On the other hand, it is quite possible that
it was painted in England in 1527 for one of his new patrons. Mr. Ernest
Law points out that there is a rendering of this same subject by Lambert
Sustris, a German painter, and pupil of Christopher Schwartz of Munich,
who flourished about the end of the sixteenth century. This last-named
work, both in the figure of Christ, and in several other points, bears a
close resemblance to the Hampton Court picture, to which, indeed, it may
have owed its inspiration.[219]

Holbein’s rapidly-maturing mastery of technique and power in expressing
the most poignant emotion, as well as his complete understanding of the
architecture of the Renaissance and skill in making brilliant use of it
as a setting for his figures, is shown in two panels in the Basel
Gallery, which at one time evidently formed a small diptych such as
would be used in some household chapel. They represent “Christ as the
Man of Sorrows” and “Mary as Mater Dolorosa” (No. 317) (Pl. 33),[220]
and are carried out in a brown monochrome, with the exception of the sky
seen through the arches, which is a bright blue, the two contrasted
tones producing a very harmonious colour effect. In each panel the
background consists of an elaborate arrangement of pillars, arches, and
vaulting, richly carved and decorated with panels, friezes, and
medallions of ornament, which recall the very similar fantastic details
of Renaissance architecture in the left wing of the Freiburg
altar-piece, and more than one of his designs for painted glass of this
period.[221] In the “Mater Dolorosa” one of the friezes represents a
band of small naked putti, which, according to Dr. Kœgler, is based upon
a similar frieze in the cathedral of Como,[222] while other figure
subjects are contained in the medallions; in the “Man of Sorrows” the
decoration is entirely of floriated ornament. The general effect
produced is one of great richness, almost superabundance, of
ornamentation, and lavishness of architectural detail. In spite of this,
the two figures are not overwhelmed by it, but at once arrest the
attention. Christ is seated on the steps between two pillars, nude, with
the exception of a loin-cloth, crowned with thorns, his head sinking in
agony on his left shoulder. Mary, a veil over her head, and the folds of
her robes falling in straight parallel lines, kneels with open,
outstretched hands, and gazes with grief-stricken countenance at the
Saviour’s sufferings. Very reverent feeling is shown in the conception
of each figure. The nude form of Christ indicates a very accurate study
of the human body, while the expression of pain and intense sorrow has
been admirably seized. The solitude of this grief-stricken figure is
intensified by the grandeur and richness of the building in which he is
seated, deserted by all men. An equally fine conception of deep though
restrained sorrow is shown in the face of the Virgin, and in the
beautiful, expressive hands. A peculiarity of this diptych is that the
horizon is placed below the level of the picture, although it is so
small that it can never have been intended for hanging at a considerable
height, such as the arrangement of the horizon-line would suggest. It
may be, therefore, that it is the preliminary study for some larger
wall-painting, finished with unusual care, or a reduced copy made by
Holbein from some altar-piece of his which has now disappeared, probably
during the disturbances of 1529. It forms part of the Amerbach
Collection, and is described in the catalogue as: “Item zwei H. Holbeins
mit olfarb gmalte täfelin darin Christus vnd Maria in eim ghüs, mit
steinfarb.”


                           VOL. I., PLATE 33.


[Illustration:

  CHRIST, THE MAN OF SORROWS
  Diptych, painted in brown monochrome, with blue sky
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Illustration:

  MARY, MATER DOLOROSA
  Diptych, painted in brown monochrome, with blue sky
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: DRAWING OF THE “HOLY FAMILY”]

There is a drawing in the Basel Gallery representing the “Holy Family”
(Pl. 34),[223] which is remarkable for the rich setting of Renaissance
architecture in which Holbein has placed his figures. The arrangement is
so elaborate that the latter at first appear to be of only secondary
importance. On the topmost of a flight of steps the Infant Christ is
learning to walk, his hands held by his mother and Anna, who are seated
on either side of him. On the left the aged Joachim, whose pronounced
features recall more than one head in the earlier “Passion” series, is
looking on from behind a pillar, while Joseph stands with his arm round
another pillar on the opposite side. Behind the group is a semicircular
niche, the upper part scalloped like a shell, supported by columns and
outstanding pillars, the latter with a sculptured frieze of putti round
the base. The capitals of the columns and the frieze which they support
are decorated with foliated designs in which figures are mingled. A
lunette in the arch which crowns the niche is ornamented in a similar
way, and contains a tablet with the signature “Hans Hol.” Over a
projecting cornice is a sculptured figure of Samson slaying the lion.
The architectural motive throughout is strongly Italian, and, indeed, in
parts bears a striking resemblance to the Porta della Rana of the
cathedral of Como,[224] while the whole drawing furnishes still further
strong evidence that Holbein must have crossed the Alps, and that
designs such as this were not mere efforts of his imagination. It is a
pen drawing on a brown-red ground, washed with grey-black and heightened
with white in the parts where the light falls, and its date is about
1520 or 1521. It is a study for a picture, or, more probably, for a
wall-painting, to be placed at some height, as the horizon-line is well
below the level of the ground. The strongly-marked perspective of the
background, too, which slants rapidly towards the right, suggests such a
purpose, and that it was to form the left wing of some considerable
scheme of wall decoration, with a more important central subject, and a
corresponding right wing. A smaller drawing, also at Basel, of the same
date and style, a pen and wash drawing, heightened with white on a grey
ground, represents the Virgin, seated on a similar high step between two
pillars, suckling the Child.[225] With the exception of the two columns,
one of which is unfinished, the background is left blank, but in the
painting for which it was a study it is natural to suppose that the
architectural setting would have been as elaborate as in the “Holy
Family,” which it resembles in its low horizon-line.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 34.


[Illustration:

  THE HOLY FAMILY
  _Washed drawing on a red ground_
  BASEL GALLERY
]

There is a third drawing, in the Städtisches Museum, Leipzig, which
belongs to the same period as the two just described, and has many
points in common with them.[226] It is a pen drawing heightened with
white on a dark grey ground, and represents the Madonna seated on a
stone bench over which her cloak is spread, supporting the Infant Christ
in his first attempts to walk. The Child, with one arm and leg uplifted,
is laughing with delight, and the attitude of the Virgin, with head bent
down, and her long hair blown on one side as though by a breeze, is one
of great beauty. In this arrangement of the hair, though more free, and
in the type of the Madonna’s face, though more beautiful, this drawing
bears a close resemblance to the more elaborate of the two in the
Amerbach Collection. It is signed and dated “H. H.” and “1519” on two
panels on either side of the carpet or pavement beneath the Virgin’s
feet, and was possibly made shortly after Holbein’s return from Lucerne
to Basel. It is a most sympathetic and natural study of maternal love
and the happiness of childhood, and has a grace and charm which the two
other drawings, made at about the same date, do not possess in the same
degree.[227]

[Sidenote: THE “DEAD CHRIST IN THE TOMB”]

After the early “Cross-Bearing” panel of 1515 at Karlsruhe, there is no
dated picture among this group of sacred paintings until the “Dead
Christ in the Tomb,” in the Basel Gallery (No. 318), of the year 1521,
is reached (Pl. 35).[228] This remarkable work, which forms part of the
Amerbach Collection, is a life-size study of a dead man, and one whose
end has, perhaps, been brought about by violence. Holbein has painted
the corpse upon a long, low panel, and has represented it as lying
enclosed within the narrow confines of a tomb of plain marble of a
greenish hue, the side facing the spectator being removed in order to
permit a view of the interior. The body, which almost fills the narrow
space, rests on its back on a plain white cloth, over which the long
dark hair falls. The head is seen almost in profile, but very slightly
turned towards the front, the short brown beard pointing directly
upwards. The light comes from some small aperture low down at the foot
of the tomb, and falls on the soles of the feet, and illuminates the
lower side of each prominent feature of the body, such as the under
parts of the chin, the white swollen lips of the open mouth, the nose,
and the eyebrows, leaving other portions in shadow, and thus
intensifying the feeling of horror which the picture at first produces.
It shows that Holbein, at the age of twenty-four, had attained a
complete mastery of technical expression, for it is painful in the
completeness of its realism. The rigidity of the limbs, the haggard
cheeks with strongly-projecting bones, the staring, half-sunken eyes,
the lifeless skin, the colourless face with bloodless lips, the
emaciated body with its ribs standing out, have all been set down with
relentless accuracy. The indication of decay in the hands and feet, and
in the flesh turning green round the wounds in the side, helps to
intensify the terror and horror of death which the picture is intended
to depict. It was evidently painted from some dead body, how obtained it
is impossible to say, but, according to an old tradition, his model was
the corpse of a man just taken out of the Rhine by the Rhine Bridge.
Holbein’s object in painting it was undoubtedly to give as complete a
rendering as possible of the physical aspects of death as seen in a body
approaching decay. It is hardly to be believed that it was his original
intention to paint a picture of the “Dead Christ,” and that for the
purpose he made search in Basel for a corpse to serve as his model. It
is much more natural to suppose that, having painted this vividly
realistic study, which no patron was likely to purchase, he made it of
marketable value by adding the wounds and the title, and so turning it
into a “Christ in the Tomb.” This is borne out by Basilius Amerbach’s
entry in his inventory. He calls it “A picture of a dead man, with the
title Jesus of Nazareth” (“Ein todten bild H. Holbeins vf holtz mit
ölfarben cum titulo Iesus Nazarenus rex”). This Latin title, in large
gold Roman letters, runs across a long strip at the top of the picture,
a part of the old frame, and between each word is placed a small angel
bearing the instruments of Christ’s torture. It is from this
superscription, and from the stigmata, that the work receives its only
sacred significance; in all other respects it is a remorseless, almost
revolting, study of some man who has died a violent death, a man with
features of no physical beauty, and in no way resembling Holbein’s
customary type of the Christ. There is nothing of the dignity or the
supernatural beauty which so often irradiate the inanimate countenance
shortly after life has passed away; but, regarded as a work of art, the
picture is in the highest sense one of great beauty by reason of the
mastery of its technical achievement, the knowledge it displays of the
human body, its absolute truth to nature, and the harmony of its
colouring. The contrast of the warm olive green of the sarcophagus with
the pale grey tones of the flesh produces an admirable effect. On a
darker slab at the feet is the inscription “MDXXI. H.H.” A further touch
of realism is shown in the large crack in the marble at the back of this
slab.

Possibly this picture found a place in one of the Basel churches; it has
been suggested by Woltmann[229] that it once formed the predella to some
altar-piece representing Christ’s Passion, and this, no doubt, is
correct, though for the reasons given above it does not seem likely that
the artist originally painted it for that purpose.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 35.


[Illustration:

  THE DEAD CHRIST IN THE TOMB
  Predella of an Altar-piece
  1521
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: THE “SOLOTHURN MADONNA”]

This “Dead Christ” remains an isolated example among the many varied
sides of Holbein’s art. In the following year, in the “Solothurn
Madonna” (Pl. 36)[230] he combines truth in the delineation of the human
figure with physical and spiritual beauty, and reaches great dignity and
nobility in his conception of character. This picture, with the
exception of the “Meyer Madonna,” is the most important and beautiful
altar-panel from Holbein’s brush that has survived, though by no means
in its original condition.

The composition consists of only four figures. The Virgin is seated in
the centre, upon a small platform covered with a carpet, holding the
Infant Christ on her lap, and, standing on either side, are St.
Nicholas,[231] and St. Ursus, the patron saint of Solothurn. The Virgin
is clad in a light-red robe, and over it a bright-blue sleeveless
mantle, fastened round the neck with a cord, which hangs in somewhat
straight and simple folds and spreads over the carpet at her feet, an
ample garment wide enough to cover all who seek her protection. Her
golden hair falls upon both shoulders, the upper part of the head being
covered with a veil of thin, transparent gauze, surmounted by a golden
crown of very decorative design studded with precious stones. She holds
the nude Child upon her knees, her right hand grasping one chubby little
leg, while the other is placed under his left arm. The head is perhaps
the most attractive and sympathetic of all Holbein’s representations of
the Madonna. There is a sweetness, modesty, and purity in its
expression, and a quiet dignity which personify in the happiest manner
the beauty of divine motherhood, and betray stronger evidences than had
hitherto appeared in his work of the marked effect of his study of the
paintings of contemporary Italian artists. The face is round and full,
and of the German type, and in its features by no means one of ideal
loveliness, but the happy and tender smile which hovers on the lips, and
the deep maternal love which shines in the eyes, give to it a very real
and arresting beauty of its own. The plump, round-headed Child is a
delightful study from real life. The foreshortening of the little feet,
with their crinkled-up toes and the delicately-traced folds in the skin,
is admirable, and the small fat hands, one of which is turned away from
the body with the palm upwards, a characteristic attitude with small
children, are full of expression. The right hand is held as though in
the act of benediction.

St. Ursus, the patron saint of the church, and one of the martyrs of the
Theban Legion, stands on the spectator’s right, a noble and dignified
figure, clad from head to foot in plate armour of a fashion still worn
in Holbein’s day. His helmet is decorated with ostrich feathers, and one
gauntleted hand grasps the hilt of his great sword, while with the other
he holds the banner of the Legion, a large red flag with a white cross,
which reaches almost to the top of the picture. He appears a true
soldier of the Church, with his dignified and martial bearing, his keen
eye and determined mouth, half hidden by the dark moustache, each hair
of which has been carefully drawn in the manner which Holbein practised
in portraiture throughout his life. The colours of the flag are
reflected in the highly-polished surface of his armour. On the opposite
side stands St. Nicholas, the patron saint of the poor. He is dressed in
ecclesiastical vestments of great splendour, which have evidently been
copied by the painter from some existing example, dating from an earlier
period than that of the painting. Over his violet chasuble are rich
embroideries in gold and colours, with representations of the Centurion
of Capernaum before Christ, the Saviour before Caiaphas, and the
Crowning with Thorns. The red mitre is embroidered with gold and pearls,
and, as recently pointed out by Dr. Ganz,[232] the figure of St.
Nicholas himself, with his attributes, a book and three golden balls. In
his left hand he holds his pastoral staff, and with the other drops alms
into a bowl held up by a kneeling beggar at his feet. The beardless face
is refined and delicate, and its spiritual character is in marked
contrast to the vigorous and manly expression of the knightly saint who
stands facing him. Only the uplifted face of the beggar, and the one
hand which holds the alms-bowl, are shown. He appears as one of the
attributes of the saint, and the artist has only indicated enough of his
form to make this clear; otherwise he is almost entirely concealed
behind the Virgin’s voluminous mantle. There is nothing here of the
painful realism of poverty and disease such as is shown in the kneeling
figures in the “St. Elizabeth of Hungary” wing of the “St. Sebastian”
altar-piece of the elder Holbein at Munich, or in the son’s earlier
Passion pictures in Basel.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 36.


[Illustration:

  THE VIRGIN AND CHILD, WITH ST. URSUS AND A HOLY BISHOP
  1522
  SOLOTHURN GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: THE “SOLOTHURN MADONNA”]

Holbein’s art had reached a point in its development when such realistic
methods of bringing home to the spectator the lessons his pictures were
intended to convey were discarded.

A peculiarity of the picture is the exceedingly simple setting in which
the figures are placed; whereas Holbein’s usual practice at this period
of his life was to make an almost lavish use of architectural
ornamentation in his backgrounds. In the “Solothurn Madonna” it consists
of a perfectly plain round archway of stone, quite free from sculptured
decoration, across which two thick iron bars are placed, fixed into the
stonework as though to strengthen it, with upright cross bars running to
the crown of the arch. It has been suggested that the vaulting of the
church for which the picture was intended was supported and strengthened
in the same way, and that Holbein introduced it into his altar-piece in
order that it might be in perfect harmony with its surroundings; but the
motive appears in more than one of the backgrounds to Ferrari’s
pictures, such as the “Flagellation,” one of the great series of
frescoes in the church of S. M. delle Grazie, at Varallo,[233] finished
in 1513. Through this open archway a pale-blue sky is seen, against
which the Virgin’s crown stands out. The light increases in brightness
as it nears the Madonna’s head, thus forming a natural halo. This
simplicity of treatment is also to be observed in other details. The
Virgin is not seated upon an elaborate throne, but on some low seat or
stool which cannot be seen. The carpet at her feet, covering the stone
step, is green, with a geometrical diamond pattern in white and red, and
two shields inset containing the arms of the donor and his wife,[234]
which are partly hidden and protected by the Virgin’s cloak. Below St.
Ursus the monogram “H. H.” and the date “1522” are painted as though cut
in the stone step.

The Virgin and the Infant Christ in this picture appear to be idealised
portraits of Holbein’s wife and first-born child. All available evidence
indicates either 1520 or 1521 as the date of his marriage, shortly
before or after he became a citizen of Basel, so that his own child may
well have served him as his model. Hans Bock the elder, the artist who
was employed by the Basel Council to renovate Holbein’s wall-paintings
in the Town Hall, made a free copy of the figure of the Child in this
picture when he was in Solothurn in 1604 or the following year, and
depicted him with a serpent as the conqueror of sin.[235] This copy, now
in the Basel Gallery (No. 91), belonged to Amerbach, and was entered in
the catalogue as “A naked child sitting on a serpent, a copy of a
painting by Holbein, exactly copied in the greater part by H. Bock on
wood in oil colours.”[236] Woltmann describes a drawing of the same
child’s head, almost in profile, with the mother’s hand supporting it
under the left shoulder, as in the picture, in the Weigel Collection,
Leipzig, a silver-point drawing, signed and dated, “Hans Holbein,
1522.”[237] It has the same large, rather round head, short neck, and
high forehead, as in the painting, and it was probably a preliminary
sketch for it.[238]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 37.


[Illustration:

  PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG WOMAN, POSSIBLY HOLBEIN’S WIFE
  ROYAL PICTURE GALLERY, MAURITSHUIS, THE HAGUE
]

[Sidenote: HOLBEIN’S PORTRAIT OF HIS WIFE]

In the head of the Madonna, although Holbein has idealised and
spiritualised his model, can be traced the predominant features of his
wife as shown in the portrait he painted of her with their two children
some seven years later, after his return from England to Basel in 1528,
though the face in the latter painting has become coarsened and bears
the marks of care and even sorrow, and has little in common with the
beautiful Solothurn head. The latter more closely resembles the very
fine portrait of a young woman in the Hague Gallery (No. 275) (Pl.
37),[239] which is now regarded by some critics as a likeness of
Holbein’s wife, painted just before or immediately after he married her,
in the earliest part of his second Basel period. This picture is one of
the strayed waifs from the royal collections of England, for it is
branded on the back with the crown and “C.R.,” which denote that it was
once in the possession of Charles I, in whose catalogue it was
attributed to Leonardo da Vinci. It appears afterwards to have been in
the Arundel Collection, and is most probably the portrait described in
the 1655 inventory as “ritratto della Moglie de Holbein,” which, after
the death of the Countess of Arundel, must have been sold in Amsterdam,
and purchased by some Dutch collector. It fetched 65 florins at the Joan
de Vries sale in 1738, and was afterwards in the G. van Slingelandt and
the William V of Orange collections. It is evidently not one of the
pictures taken over to Holland by William III during one of his visits
to the Hague, as has been suggested, for there is nothing to show that
it ever returned to the English royal collections, nor is it included in
the list of works unsuccessfully reclaimed by Queen Anne from the Dutch
States when she ascended the throne. Holbein’s authorship of this work
has been frequently disputed, some writers regarding it as a good old
copy after a lost original by the master, while others look upon it as a
fine original work by some Netherlandish contemporary of Holbein’s who
was strongly under his influence. Dr. Woltmann considered it to be most
probably by Holbein himself, and others have followed him in this
opinion. Dr. Ganz, in his recent book, includes it among the genuine
works of the second Basel period, and points out that the soft, tender
colour-scheme in which it has been carried out was the result of
Holbein’s recent visit to Italy, and explains its earlier attribution to
Leonardo.[240] When allowance is made for the passage of time, and the
troubles and cares which are supposed to have embittered Elsbeth
Holbein’s life, there is considerable likeness between this portrait of
a comely young _haus-frau_ and the wife in the portrait of 1528-9. This
is particularly to be noticed in the heavy-lidded, slightly-protruding
eyes, much more pronounced in the later picture, while the general shape
of the head and form of the features are alike in both. The likeness,
however, is not so striking as to make it absolutely certain that in the
Hague picture we have a portrait of Holbein’s bride. The work is without
inscription. She is represented seated, with her crossed hands resting
upon her white apron. Her hair is completely covered by a white gauze
veil which is carried under the chin, and her gown, edged and lined with
fur, is open at the front, showing the plain white, high-necked bodice
below. Whether by Holbein or not—and it is difficult to see who else
could have painted it—this picture has great charm. A recent writer[241]
speaks of this picture as leaving a vivid and permanent impression on
the spectator, by reason of the luminous freshness of its colour, the
delicate perfume of its purity, and the exquisite, limpid sweetness
which exhales from it as from a white rose under a blue sky in
spring-time.

In the Louvre there is a silver-point drawing, touched with Indian
ink and red crayon, of the head and shoulders of a young woman (Pl.
38),[242] which bears considerable likeness both to the Solothurn
Madonna and to the portrait of 1528-9. She is represented almost
full face, with eyes cast down, and her straight hair falling in two
large plaits down her back. She wears a necklace with a pendant
circular medallion with the Cross of St. Anthony, and across the
border of her bodice, which is cut low and straight, runs the device
“ALS.IN.ERN.ALS.IN ...” (“In All Honour”).[243] The same
heavily-lidded eyes, prominent nose, well-chiselled mouth with its
full lips, double chin, and slope of the shoulders, occur both in
this drawing and in the Solothurn altar-piece, and are even more
strongly marked in the later portrait-group, though in this earlier
study the features as yet bear few traces of the trials and
experiences of life, but still retain much of their youthful bloom
and freshness, and gain a certain beauty from the happy smile which
lights them up.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 38.


[Illustration:

  HEAD OF A YOUNG WOMAN
  (Probably Holbein’s wife)
  Study for the Solothurn “Madonna”
  _Silver-point drawing, touched with red_
  LOUVRE, PARIS
]

[Sidenote: THE “SOLOTHURN MADONNA”]

All writers, however, are not agreed in seeing in the Louvre drawing and
in the Solothurn Madonna an idealised portrait of Holbein’s wife. Those
who hold the contrary view regard it as almost impossible that so great
a change as that to be noted between the fair and youthful face of the
Madonna and that of the sad and careworn, elderly wife of the family
group could have taken place in the space of seven years. Mr. Gerald
Davies, who fails to see the likeness, regards the Louvre drawing as the
work, not of Holbein, but of his father, in which case it cannot be a
portrait of Holbein’s wife,[244] unless the elder painter spent some
time in Basel with his two sons, towards the end of his life, as stated
by earlier writers, of which there is no documentary record. It is,
however, impossible to agree with this writer in his ascription of this
drawing to Hans Holbein the Elder. Mrs. Fortescue, in her recent book on
the painter, weaves a romance around the Louvre drawing which has
nothing to support it but imagination. Her theory is that Holbein became
enamoured of his future wife shortly after his arrival in Basel, and
that he then made this drawing, the fashion of the hair showing that she
was still unmarried. The course of true love, however, did not run
smoothly, and the consequent disappointment was the real reason of his
“otherwise inexplicable” departure for Lucerne in 1517. During his two
years’ absence Elsbeth married the tanner Schmid, who not long
afterwards died, leaving her free to become the painter’s wife when he
renewed his suit shortly after his return to Basel. This is a pretty
little story, but there is not the slightest evidence to be found in
support of it.[245] On the other hand, Woltmann and Dr. Ganz are no
doubt correct in regarding the Louvre drawing as the actual first study
for the Solothurn Madonna.

[Sidenote: ST. URSULA AND ST. GEORGE]

The picture was commissioned by Hans Gerster, town archivist of Basel,
who was not a native of that city, but whose wife, Barbara Guldenknopf,
was a member of a local family. Among Gerster’s official duties was that
of conducting negotiations with the councils of neighbouring towns, and,
after Basel had entered the Swiss confederation in 1501, one of the
places to which his official duties frequently took him was Solothurn.
There he became a close friend of the Coadjutor Nikolaus von Diesbach,
dean of Solothurn Minster, whom he made his spiritual adviser.
Circumstances seem to indicate that in 1522 Gerster was under some
suspicion as to illegal dealings in the Imperial interests, which
eventually brought about his dismissal from office, at about the same
time as the fall of that other early patron of Holbein, Jakob Meyer, who
lost his seat in the Council through similar causes. It has been
suggested, therefore, that the picture was ordered for the Solothurn
Minster on the advice of the Coadjutor, in expiation of Gerster’s
irregular conduct. For the same reason, according to those who hold that
the saintly figure on the left represents the Bishop of Tours, St.
Martin was chosen as the particular saint to whom all sinners made
appeal, and was introduced as intercessor for the donor, while the
kneeling beggar may even be a portrait of the archivist himself. The
chasuble the saint wears is the one specially prescribed for this
office, while the figure of St. Nicholas on the mitre may have been
placed there in order to associate the donor’s friend, Nikolaus von
Diesbach, with the intercession. It is possible that the picture was a
commission for the St. Nicholas Chapel of the Minster, founded in 1520,
for the presence of St. Ursus, Solothurn’s patron saint, proves that it
was intended for that place.[246] As the years went by, it suffered from
neglect, and the name of the master who had painted it was forgotten, so
that when, in 1648, this chapel was pulled down and rebuilt, the picture
was regarded as of not sufficient value or beauty to be rehung over its
altar. Between 1689 and 1717 it came into the possession of a certain
Canon Hartmann, the Minster choirmaster, who in 1683 built and endowed
the little chapel of All Saints on the heights above Grenchen, to which
he presented or bequeathed the picture. Here, again, it does not appear
to have been regarded as a work of any particular importance, and the
process of neglect and deterioration continued; and when, in 1864, it
was rediscovered by Herr Franz Anton Zetter of Solothurn, in the same
small church, it was hanging high up on the wall of the choir, blackened
with the smoke of more than two hundred years, its panels worm-eaten,
without a frame, and suspended by a cord through two holes which had
been bored into the picture itself. Although it was impossible to
examine it closely, Herr Zetter was struck with its beauty, still to be
discerned through all the discoloration and damage, and when, shortly
afterwards, he heard that the chapel was being renovated, he made
anxious inquiries as to its fate. For some time all search for it proved
unavailing, but in the end it was found, face downward, and splashed all
over with whitewash, under the boards which formed the workmen’s
platform. He was only just in time to save it from final destruction.
Upon examination he discovered the signature, and feeling convinced, in
spite of scepticism on the part of others whom he consulted, that it was
a genuine work of the master’s, he purchased it. It was placed in the
hands of Eigner, the keeper of the Augsburg Gallery, for restoration,
the work occupying three years. The state of the picture was so bad that
restoration was essential, and this, on the whole, was well done, though
it suffered to some extent during the process. There is, however, a
seventeenth-century copy of the picture in existence, which shows that
the restorer substituted yellow for red in the Virgin’s right sleeve,
which does not harmonise with Holbein’s original colour-scheme. Herr
Zetter presented the picture to the Gallery of his native town, where it
now occupies the place of honour, so that, thanks to his acumen and
enthusiasm, one of Holbein’s finest achievements in sacred painting has
been saved from oblivion.[247]

In composition the Solothurn Madonna bears close resemblance to a large
woodcut, designed by Holbein, on the back of the title-page of the
Statute Book or Town Laws of Freiburg-im-Breisgau.[248] This book, _The
Municipal Laws and Statutes of the Praiseworthy Town of Freiburg_, by
Ulrich Zasius, was published in Basel by Adam Petri in 1520. The Virgin
is seated enthroned in front of a niche of Renaissance design. In her
attitude, and the way in which she holds the Child on her knees, as well
as in her dress and her long hair falling on her shoulders, there is
considerable likeness to the altar-piece, as also in the two figures of
the patron saints of Freiburg who stand on either side of her, St.
George, with one hand resting on his shield and a flag held aloft in the
other, and clad, like St. Ursus, in complete armour, and Bishop Lambert,
in rich ecclesiastical dress, and holding the crozier, as St. Nicholas
does in the Solothurn picture. The similarity between the two designs is
particularly close in the position and movement of the arms and hands of
the Infant Christ. The woodcut, which is signed “H. H.” on the edge of
the step on the left, and dated 1519, is richly and grandly designed,
the figures of the two saints having been conceived with great nobility,
and it is possible that Holbein was so satisfied with its composition
that he made use of it two years later when Gerster came to him for an
altar-piece.[249]

Only one other picture bears Holbein’s signature and the date 1522. This
is the full-length representation of “St. Ursula,”[250] which with its
companion, “St. George,” is in the Karlsruhe Gallery. They evidently
formed the wings of an altar-piece, the central panel of which is
missing. St. Ursula, who carries a number of long arrows in her arms,
symbols of her martyrdom, is clad in the fashion of the rich citizen’s
wife of Holbein’s day, as seen in the set of his costume studies in the
Basel Gallery, and wears a golden crown and a nimbus with a band of
Renaissance ornamentation. Behind her, the branches of a fig-tree stand
out against the blue sky, and low down on the horizon is a landscape
with a tower. Her necklace, with an openwork medallion containing the
cross of St. Anthony, closely resembles the one in the Louvre sketch of
Holbein’s wife as a young woman. In the companion panel, St.
George,[251] with his flag grasped in his left hand, stands over the
prostrate dragon, which he has transfixed with his spear. Here again the
background consists chiefly of blue sky with a distant hilly landscape.
The types of the two heads are not unlike the “Adam and Eve” study of
1517, while the St. Ursula also recalls the Solothurn Madonna, though
the face is less idealised. It is possible that his wife also sat for
this picture. The costume of St. George, who is crowned with a nimbus
containing his name, is very similar to that of the Archangel Michael in
the beautiful study in the Basel Gallery already described.[252] The
“St. Ursula” is signed and dated “HANS HOLBEIN MDXXII.”

[Sidenote: ORGAN-CASE DOORS IN BASEL MINSTER]

These two panels have been renovated and retouched, and, in consequence,
much of Holbein’s original brushwork has vanished. For this reason they
have been regarded by some writers as merely works of the Holbein
school. They are accepted as genuine, however, by such modern critics as
Dr. Ganz and Herr Knackfuss, while Woltmann,[253] who speaks of the face
and bust of St. Ursula as delicately finished in Holbein’s happiest
manner, though the lower part of her figure and that of St. George are
so inferior as to suggest a less skilful hand, conjectured that they
were probably designed, and in part painted, by the master himself, and
executed under his direction, but without very careful supervision. It
has also been suggested that they were the result of a poorly-paid
commission for some village church, and that Holbein, in consequence,
did not take much trouble over them; but such a supposition has little
probability, for Holbein was never satisfied with inferior work, but
always gave of his best, both in great things and small. Mr. Gerald
Davies refuses to accept “these weak and slightly affected figures” as
possible work of the painter who in the same year produced so great a
picture as the Solothurn Madonna.[254] There can be little doubt
however, that, though damaged, they are from the hand of the master
himself.

The two large paintings in monochrome on canvas, for the decoration of
the inner sides of the doors of the case which covered in the organ in
the Minster of Basel when it was not in use, must not be omitted in any
consideration of Holbein’s work for church decoration.[255] They
survived the iconoclastic outbreak of 1529; possibly the mob did not
regard them as religious paintings, or they may have escaped owing to
their position high up on the wall of the nave, and so not easily
reached. Merian mentions them in his _Topographia Helvetiæ_, published
in 1622,[256] and in 1775 Emanuel Büchel made a water-colour drawing of
them in their original position,[257] for his collection of the
monuments, sculptures, and paintings in Basel Minster, from which
drawing it is to be seen that they decorated the upper part of the
organ. The organ-case was of wood, richly carved in the style of the
early Renaissance, and Holbein’s decorations were painted in brown
monochrome in order to produce the effect of similar carving, as though
they formed an integral part of the case itself. The organ was restored
in 1639, when the doors were repainted by Sixt Ringle, and in 1786 it
was replaced by a new one, Holbein’s decorations and some of the old
carved woodwork being deposited in the Public Library. The doors
suffered a second “restoration” in 1842, and in the following year were
removed to the Basel Picture Gallery (No. 321).[258] Quite recently much
of the over-painting has been removed, and it is possible to obtain a
good idea of the noble and decorative effect they must have produced
when fresh from Holbein’s brush and in the position intended for them.
In spite of this careful renovation, however, the damage done to them in
earlier days was so severe that much of their original beauty has
vanished. The figures are larger than life-size, and produce the effect
of carved wood statues. Happily, the original study for them, a very
beautiful and powerful pen-drawing washed with brown-black Indian ink,
is to be found among the drawings in the Amerbach Collection (Pl.
39).[259] The design is on six vertical strips of paper fastened
together. The peculiar shape of the doors necessitated considerable
ingenuity on the part of the artist in the arrangement of his material,
and he succeeded admirably in adapting the spaces to his purpose. Each
door is in three divisions, the innermost being the highest. In the
left-hand shutter this inmost space contains the figure of the Emperor
Henry II, founder of Basel Minster. In the shorter, outer division
stands his wife, Kunigunde, and between them is a representation of the
Minster itself. On the right-hand wing the Virgin and Child stand facing
the Emperor, and in the outer division, St. Pantalus, the first Bishop
of Basel; between them is a group of small nude singing and playing
angels. The spaces above the heads of the Emperor and the Virgin, and
the other spaces, triangular in shape, over the central part of each
wing, are filled in with Renaissance ornamentation. The four large
figures are designed with great nobility, and are very impressive in
effect. The horizon lies below the level of the ground, on account of
the height at which the doors were to be hung, a frequent practice of
Holbein’s in his wall-paintings, and an observance of the laws of vision
probably brought home to him by his study of Mantegna’s works. For this
reason the figures are represented as seen from below in effective
perspective foreshortening.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 39.


[Illustration:

  DESIGN FOR THE ORGAN DOORS, BASEL CATHEDRAL
  _Pen and wash drawing_
  BASEL GALLERY
]

The Emperor, with long beard, is shown in profile, crowned, and wearing
a royal mantle, a sceptre in his left hand. His Empress, also crowned,
carries a large cross in her hands, and stands in the curious Basel
manner of those days, with the body thrust forward, and the back bent,
as in Holbein’s costume studies referred to in a later chapter.[260] The
figure of the Virgin is nobly conceived. The Child flings his little
arms round her neck, and presses his cheek against hers, while she
clasps him closely to her breast with both hands. In carrying out the
design, Holbein made one or two slight changes in the position of the
Child. In the finished painting the right arm is not flung round the
Virgin’s neck, but, instead, the hand rests in the bend of her elbow,
while their cheeks no longer touch. St. Pantalus, in full ecclesiastical
robes and mitre, holds his crozier in his left hand and stretches out
the right, as though speaking. The group of small child-angels, three of
whom blow trumpets, while four others hold a sheet of music from which
they are singing, is a design of the greatest charm, the figures being
excellently grouped, and drawn with the utmost freedom. They are sturdy
little boys, with curly hair and small wings. One of the singers beats
time with a stick, and another does so with his hand. In the finished
picture this sheet of music is inscribed with the words from the “Song
of Solomon”—“Quam pulchra es amica.” The corresponding division of the
left wing, representing the exterior of the Minster, is just as free and
masterly a study, and the Renaissance ornament which is so cleverly
adapted to the remaining spaces is in the finest taste. This decorative
filling is not the same on both doors, and it is possible that the
artist intended the church authorities to select whichever design they
preferred. The one chosen was that on the right-hand door, though the
design on the left-hand one with the figure of a nude child among the
foliage, is the more beautiful of the two. The whole composition was
admirably suited for the purpose for which it was intended, and when the
doors were thrown open, and the organ itself was played, the effect
produced must have been a fine one. The dignified conception of the four
great figures was in perfect keeping with the deep and solemn tones of
the organ which they decorated. Neither the doors themselves, nor the
design, are dated, but the beauty of the composition and the brilliant
and assured technique point to a period towards the end of Holbein’s
second sojourn in Basel, about 1525, shortly before his departure for
England, and they are thus of about the same date as the ten designs in
Indian ink made for painted glass, representing scenes from Christ’s
Passion. Among the monumental works of decorative painting undertaken by
him during his second residence in Basel, these designs stand among the
highest. The influences which were brought to bear upon his art during
his sojourn in Italy find in them their fullest and most dignified
expression, happily blended with and modified by those other influences,
springing from his native soil, under which he was trained in his
father’s studio.


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                               CHAPTER VI

  THE HOUSE OF THE DANCE AND THE WALL-PAINTINGS IN THE BASEL TOWN HALL

Holbein as a mural decorator—The “Haus zum Tanz”—The “Dance of Peasants”
  frieze—Original studies and old copies—Decoration of the inner walls
  of the new Basel Town Council Chamber—“Charondas of Catanea”—“Zaleucus
  of Locris”—“Curius Dentatus”—“Sapor and Valerian”—The single figures
  placed between the large compositions—Cessation of the work before its
  completion.


AT this period of his life Holbein’s work was by no means confined to
the painting of portraits and church pictures. His activity was
ceaseless, and every moment of his time must have been fully occupied.
In addition to many book illustrations for the publishers, and designs
for glass-painters, armourers, and other craftsmen, he found
considerable employment in decorating the street-fronts of houses of
certain of the leading citizens with large wall-paintings, and, in some
instances, painted similar decorations on the inner walls. It is evident
from various contemporary and later references that he covered more than
one house in Basel with decorative designs in this fashion, and that the
art of wall-painting, practised in that city to some extent before his
time, received a great impetus from his example. He carried it to a far
greater pitch of excellence than had been achieved until then in any
country but Italy, and founded a school of monumental decorative design
which existed for a considerable period after his death, and has been
revived again in modern times in Lucerne, if not in Basel.
Unfortunately, nothing remains of his original work in this field except
a few isolated designs for one or two façades, and several tracings and
inferior copies of fragmentary remains of the actual wall-paintings; nor
has any definite record been handed down in Basel of any particular
dwelling so decorated by him, with the exception of the “House of the
Dance,” which obtained a wide celebrity in his own day, and was
evidently looked upon as his masterpiece. In carrying out the mural
ornamentation of this building he allowed his brilliant fancy full play,
and exercised the greatest ingenuity in turning to advantage the wide,
flat spaces of the commonplace frontage with its irregularly-placed
Gothic arched windows and openings, covering the whole of it with
painted Renaissance architecture rich in columns and friezes, balconies
and elaborate porticoes and other features, amid which characters from
ancient history and fable and modern life were placed with admirable
effect.

[Sidenote: THE HOUSE OF THE DANCE]

The “Haus zum Tanz” was so named by his fellow-citizens from the large
frieze representing a number of peasants dancing with the wildest
merriment and abandon, which at once took the popular fancy, though it
only formed a part of the decoration. An original drawing for the narrow
front façade still exists, while there is an old tracing of Holbein’s
study for the general design, and some sixteenth-century copies of his
sketches, from which a good idea of the decorative effect produced after
he had finished the work can be obtained. It was a corner house, and
stood in the Eisengasse, near the Rhine Bridge, and at that time
belonged to the wealthy goldsmith Balthasar Angelrot, from whom Holbein
received the commission. The decorations, probably carried out by him in
1520, were still visible, and described by Patin, in 1676, but towards
the end of the eighteenth century their faded remains were whitewashed
over. The old building itself stood until 1907, when it was pulled down
and rebuilt.[261]

The plan Holbein pursued shows a marked advance in his conception of
decorative design when compared with the earlier paintings of the
Hertenstein house in Lucerne. In the latter large pictures filled
practically the whole of the wide spaces between the windows, but he now
abandoned this practice to a great extent, and subordinated the
pictorial effect to one in which architecture played the leading part,
the characters introduced appearing as actual figures occupied in
various ways amid this elaborate setting. The main front of the house
was very irregular in its features. There were no straight lines, for
the windows differed greatly in height and breadth, and those of one
storey were in most instances not placed exactly over those in the
storey below them. To a painter of lesser mastership than Holbein such a
nondescript frontage would have greatly increased the difficulties to be
overcome in carrying out a successful decorative scheme; in his case the
very difficulties appear to have provided an added spur to his
imagination and the fanciful play of his humour, and he seized upon them
and turned them to the utmost advantage. According to Dr. Ludwig Iselin,
in his notes on Holbein written towards the end of the sixteenth
century, the painter regarded his work upon Angelrot’s house with some
amount of satisfaction, for when he revisited Basel in the autumn of
1538, and saw his wall-paintings both on the house-fronts and in the
Council Chamber rapidly fading away, he proposed to repaint them at his
own expense, and in criticising his work found that the “Haus zum Tanz”
was “rather good” (“Das Haus zum tantz wär ein wenig gutt”). According
to Theodor Zwinger (1577),[262] he received only forty florins (gulden)
for the whole of this work, very inadequate payment even for those days,
considering the amount of labour which he must have given to it. This
reference of Zwinger’s is of great interest, as, with the exception of
the wall-paintings in the interior of the Basel Town Hall, it is the
only record so far discovered of the prices the artist was in the habit
of receiving for such undertakings.

[Sidenote: THE HOUSE OF THE DANCE]

The house, as already stated, was a corner one of three storeys, the
left-hand and narrow side being the one which fronted the Eisengasse.
The decoration covered both sides, and was painted more or less in
perspective, so arranged that the spectator, in order to obtain the full
effect of the design, must stand at the corner angle of the house, from
which he could see both sides at the same time. On the ground floor he
placed on either side of the broad arched windows and the narrower door
at the end of the chief façade thick, stumpy columns, with garlands
hanging below their Ionic capitals. He made skilful use of the Gothic
forms of the openings, as they actually existed, in such a way that the
pointed arches appeared to be merely the result of perspective
foreshortening, as seen from the spectator’s standpoint. Above these
arches, in the flat space beneath the first-floor windows, was painted
the broad band containing the “Bauerntanz,” or “Dance of the Peasants,”
which gave the house its popular name. This band was broken by a small
oblong window over the house-door, which Holbein utilised by turning it
into a stone table, with cans and jugs for the refreshment of the
dancers, against which two musicians are leaning, one playing the
bagpipes and the other a wind instrument of unusual shape. Boisterous
mirth reigns among the dancers. Their flitting shadows are cast upon the
wall behind them, as they give full vent to their delight in life by
means of measures more energetic than graceful, and much
rough-and-tumble play. Judging from the fine original study in the
Berlin Print Room,[263] which shows a part of this frieze, the
wall-painting itself must have produced a vivid effect of rapid,
lifelike movement, and even of noise and laughter. Above the Dance,
decorated pilasters supporting lofty columns, which ran up to the top of
the building, were placed between the windows, together with antique
figures of Mars, Venus, Cupid, and other gods. Above these again ran a
balcony with an open balustrading, supported on projecting cornices,
with numerous figures of Holbein’s fellow-citizens in contemporary
costume walking about and looking over into the street below, one of
them with a greyhound. Round the windows of the second floor, which were
of varying heights, he gave full play to his delight in Renaissance
architecture of a very intricate and fantastic kind, including his
favourite round medallions containing the heads of Roman Emperors and
other classical heroes and heroines, friezes with rich ornamentation,
grotesque figures with human bodies and tails of dolphins, and columns
and arches seen in strong perspective. On the top floor of all the small
windows were given the appearance of little square towers surrounded by
broken and ruined arches and masonry, overgrown with bushes, and behind
and between them the blue sky. On one of the walls was a peacock, and on
another a paint-pot with the brush stuck in it, as though left up there
by accident by the painter after the work had been finished and the
scaffolding removed, a pictorial joke which no doubt entertained the
passers-by.

The other frontage of the house faced a side street. On the wall nearest
the corner Holbein painted a lofty arched doorway, with steps leading to
the interior, above which Marcus Curtius, brandishing a battle-axe, was
represented on a great white, rearing horse, on the point of plunging
into the street, and close below him a Roman soldier in a crouching
position, with right arm uplifted in self-protection, as though fearful
that the rider would fall upon and crush him. Beyond this doorway there
were no windows on the ground floor, but merely a few small apertures.
Holbein covered this surface with arches and pillars with festoons, and
a low wall below. Over this wall the spectator was supposed to obtain a
view of the stabling below the level of the street, with a groom in
charge of a fine horse, the latter attached to a ring at the foot of a
lofty column, surmounted by a figure of Hebe. Between the windows on the
floor above stood a fat and youthful Bacchus, crowned with vine-leaves,
and holding a cup in his hand, and at his feet a cask with a second boy
asleep against it, and a cat stealing away with a mouse in her mouth.
Above this floor the treatment was mainly architectural, following the
lines of that on the Eisengasse frontage. The general effect produced by
the whole decoration must have been an exceptionally gay and brilliant
one, both from the effective manner in which Holbein made free use of
the Renaissance style of architecture, and from the joyous life and
movement of the numerous figures depicted. The decoration was intended
to amuse as well as to delight, and the tricks of perspective, together
with a realism the main purpose of which was to deceive the eye, were
conceived as a jest which should provide a source of continual interest
and merriment to the passing citizens. Such a method of covering house
walls had little in common with the work he had seen in Italy, except in
the sumptuousness of its setting. Although it may have sinned against
many of the right principles of mural decorative art, it nevertheless
appealed strongly to the fancy and taste of the Baselers of that day,
and “took the town” so completely that it set a fashion which lasted
many years. The humour and realism of it, however, were by no means its
foremost features; in many ways it must have produced a decorative
effect of great beauty and richness. Though he gave free play to his
fantastic imagination, he at the same time kept it within reasonable
bounds, so that it never offended against good taste, except in a
certain freedom of representation in some of the dancing couples, but
was always subordinate to the higher aims of his art.

[Sidenote: WALL-PAINTING FOR AMERBACH HOUSE]

There is a large tracing of the design in the Basel Gallery, which has
evidently been taken from Holbein’s original drawing, and there are
other copies, almost contemporary, of his original studies for portions
of the work, one showing the lower part of the side wall with the horse
and groom. The Berlin Print Room, as already noted, possesses the very
beautiful drawing from Holbein’s own hand, which is the original study
for the front façade, showing the musicians and three of the dancing
couples of the “Bauerntanz,” with which the Basel tracing is in close
agreement, while in the Amerbach Collection there is a slighter version,
with certain variations, of the upper portion of the Berlin drawing,
showing the balcony with figures. It is a chalk and pen drawing, touched
with Indian ink.[264] Dr. Woltmann suggested that the man with the flat
cap on the extreme left of the balcony in the Berlin drawing, who is
looking down into the street, is intended for a portrait of Holbein
himself. In addition, the Basel Gallery possesses good copies of the
frieze with the dancers (No. 353),[265] and of the portion of the façade
with the mounted figure of Marcus Curtius,[266] made by the
glass-painter Niklaus Rippel in 1623 and 1590 respectively. Rippel was
master of the Basel Painters’ Guild in 1587. The “Curtius” drawing is
inscribed “in frontispicio domus,” and is evidently a faithful
transcript of the original; so much so that by its means it is possible
to obtain a very adequate idea of the grandeur of Holbein’s design, more
particularly in the magnificent group of the horse and its armed rider,
in which the Mantegnesque influence is unmistakable. Finally, there is
in the same Gallery an excellent reconstruction of the whole frontage
(No. 352), a water-colour drawing made by H. E. von Berlepsch in 1878,
based upon the Berlin study and the sixteenth-century copies of
Holbein’s sketches.[267]

One or two original studies remain, which were evidently made as designs
for exterior wall-paintings of which all record has been lost. There is
a slight but masterly washed pen drawing in the Amerbach Collection (Pl.
40 (1)),[268] representing the upper part of a house in which the
irregularly-placed windows have been adapted with the greatest skill to
suit the purposes of the elaborate scheme of Italian architecture, one
part of which is made to recede by a series of flat columns with
ornamented capitals seen in sharp perspective, while the other half
appears to project, and shows the seated figure of an Emperor, possibly
Charlemagne, between two windows, to which Holbein has given rounded
arches with a medallion between them containing an antique head. Dr.
Ganz is, no doubt, right in his suggestion that this drawing is a study
for a scheme of decoration for the façade of the family house of the
Amerbachs in the Rheingasse, in Little Basel, and that the figure of the
enthroned Emperor is a pictorial representation of the name—“zum
Kaiserstuhl”—by which the house was known. Probably Holbein received a
commission for its decoration in 1519, at the time he was painting
Bonifacius Amerbach’s portrait.[269] In the same collection there is a
design for a framework to surround an ordinary square-headed window,
either for internal or external wall-painting,[270] over which he has
thrown an ornamented arch filled in with scalloping, and crowned with a
brazier from which flames are blowing. It is supported by pillars of
elaborate and fantastic design, broken up into various bands of rich
ornament, among them ox skulls with small hanging garlands. At the base,
on each side, is a nude figure of a woman with a basket of fire on her
head. The window, only one half of which is shown, is supported below
with corbels, the central one with a grotesque head with an iron ring
suspended from its mouth. A third sketch, for the ground floor of the
Hertenstein house, has been already described.[271]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 40.


[Illustration:

  1. STUDY FOR A PAINTED HOUSE FRONT WITH THE FIGURE OF A SEATED EMPEROR
  BASEL GALLERY
]


[Illustration:

  2. THE AMBASSADORS OF THE SAMNITES BEFORE CURIUS DENTATUS
  1521-22
  Fragment of the wall-painting formerly in the Basel Town Hall
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: LEGEND OF THE INN “ZUR BLUME”]

In the collection of drawings in the Louvre there is an elaborately
drawn design for the decoration of a house with a narrow frontage and
high-pitched gables,[272] which, although not from Holbein’s own hand,
bears considerable resemblance to his style and methods in carrying out
large mural paintings. It may be a contemporary copy of one of his
designs, or, perhaps, an original work by one of the clever Basel
artists who adopted his manner. The architectural details, however, are
characterised by a fantastic play of fancy carried beyond the limits
Holbein usually prescribed for himself in work of this nature. Some of
them are frankly impossible, and if actually carried out in brick or
stone would at once fall to pieces. This element of architectural
absurdity is to be seen very clearly in the large capital in the centre
supported by a much weaker and smaller one, in the curious thin bands of
projecting stonework with circular openings through which all the
columns pass, and the equally curious circular vaulting over the door,
with round openings through which two cupids bend down in the act of
supporting a coat of arms. The principal features of the design are two
deep bands divided by the columns into panels containing combats between
sirens and grotesque men with fish-like extremities ending in spirals of
foliage. On either side of the windows of the second floor double
columns are set close together, between which three nude old men are
striving to force themselves. On the topmost storey two figures are
looking over a balcony in front of two small windows. Medallions with
antique heads are freely introduced, and every part of the house-face is
so lavishly covered with small ornamentation that the eye becomes
confused, and the general effect produced is one of restlessness and
over-elaboration. Below the ground-floor window a fictitious opening is
shown, in which two large dogs are fighting over a bone. Woltmann
suggests that a passage in Dr. Ludwig Iselin’s notes has reference to
these two animals, and may be taken as some indication that this
particular design for house-decoration was Holbein’s own, and had been
carried out by him in Basel. Iselin says, in speaking of the artist’s
truthfulness to nature: “He painted a dog, at which dogs running past
used to bark.”[273]

[Sidenote: LEGEND OF THE INN “ZUR BLUME”]

An old Basel legend, which, like so many other legends, has no evidence
to support it, connects Holbein’s name with the decoration of another
house in Basel—the inn “zur Blume” in the Fischmarktplatz. The story
runs that the painter was deeply in debt to the innkeeper, and in order
to pay his dues he undertook to cover the outside of the house with
frescoes; but the work progressed too slowly for the owner, and
Holbein’s absences in search of enjoyment were too frequent, so that the
former kept a close watch upon him, and threatened to cut off supplies
unless he remained at his post. The painter’s ingenuity, however, was
equal to the emergency. When he was at work high up on the building his
body was hidden from the view of those in the street by the scaffolding,
but his legs were still in sight, so he painted a fictitious pair on the
wall, as though dangling down, with feet crossed; and seeing these, the
landlord thought all was well, and so left his artist to his own
devices.

The most important work in wall-painting undertaken by him at this
period was the decoration of the Council Chamber in the newly-rebuilt
Town Hall or Rathaus of Basel. In 1504 it was decided to replace the old
building with a new one, and the work was begun in 1508 and completed
early in 1521, the Council assembling in it for the first time on the
12th of March in the latter year. The decoration of the interior walls
of the chief room was given to Holbein, partly, no doubt, through the
influence of his patron, Jakob Meyer, who was still burgomaster, though
his troubles were already beginning, and culminated before the close of
that year, when he was removed from office. The commission must have
been mainly due, however, to the Council’s knowledge of Holbein’s skill
and inventive powers in this branch of art, as shown in the decorations
of several house-fronts in the city. The painter continued his work in
the Chamber after the deposition of Jakob Meyer and the election of
Adelberg Meyer, who was unrelated to his predecessor, to the post of
chief magistrate. According to the account books of the Council, the
commission was given to the painter on the 15th June 1521, on the day of
St. Veit and St. Modestus, and the contract stated that he was to
receive 120 gulden for the whole work, and that he was to be paid in
advance by the “Drei Herrn,” who were the members of the Council who
controlled the finances, on the day of the signing of the contract,
forty gulden, or fifty Basel pounds, the gulden being equal to one Basel
pound and a quarter.[274] The remaining payments, in smaller amounts,
were made to him on the 20th July and 14th September 1521, and on the
12th April, 16th June, 31st August and 29th November 1522. He received
no money during the winter of 1521-22, when the work, no doubt, would be
temporarily suspended owing to the shortness of the days and the lack of
good light. This is one of the few instances in which we possess
authentic records of the amounts received by Holbein for his work.

[Sidenote: WALL-PAINTINGS IN BASEL TOWN HALL]

The Town Hall, which stood in the market-place, with the house of Jakob
Meyer, “zum Hasen,” adjoining it on the south, has undergone
considerable changes since its building, so that to-day both the
exterior and interior are by no means in the same condition as when
Holbein was working there. In those days the Council Chamber was an
irregular quadrangle, about 34 feet by 65 feet, and only 12½ feet high,
and the ceiling was supported by three columns down the centre of the
room. The wall fronting the market-place was entirely filled with large
windows and the doors leading to the chief staircase, and provided no
space for decorative treatment, so that Holbein’s work was confined to
the three remaining walls, the long one opposite, which was also broken
up by two windows and two doors, and the two narrower ones at either
end, which were not parallel. Of these latter, the one on the north had
a heating chamber and a large stove at one end of it, and was separated
from the rest of the hall by a balustrade. The only unbroken wall was at
the southern end, next Meyer’s house. It was called in the accounts the
“back wall,” because the visitor turned his back on it on entering the
room, and this wall was not decorated by Holbein until after his return
from his first visit to England. Taking it altogether, the room was so
low and so irregular in its arrangement that it was by no means well
suited for carrying out a scheme of mural decoration on a monumental
scale; but Holbein triumphed over all difficulties, and produced
magnificent results, so far as can be judged from the few studies,
tracings, and copies which remain. The subjects selected for
representation were divided from one another by richly-ornamented
Renaissance columns, so that the room, when finished, appeared to be
open on all sides, here looking out upon some landscape, and there into
some great hall or palace made to appear vast by the clever use of
perspective. Between the principal pictures were placed smaller,
single-figure subjects, standing in niches on a somewhat higher level,
and forming part of the architectural framework. The subjects of the
larger paintings were of the kind then popular north of the Rhine, and
were intended, by means of celebrated examples taken from ancient
history, to bring home to those who used the room, the absolute
necessity of impartial justice in the administration of the affairs of a
state or community, and at the same time to indicate the punishment
which in most cases is bound to follow the breaking of the law, and to
extol the virtues of simplicity and a love of country free from all
self-seeking. These subjects, and the Latin inscriptions which
accompanied them, were not Holbein’s own invention, but were, in all
probability, selected for him by such learned friends as Myconius and
Beatus Rhenanus.[275]

The only records which remain of this great work, all of which are in
the Basel Gallery, consist of a few fragments taken from the walls
before the last traces of the paintings had finally faded away; original
studies for three of the chief subjects from Holbein’s own hand; a few
contemporary copies of his designs; and others taken from those parts of
the design which could still be discerned at the time when the actual
fragments of Holbein’s handiwork were cut away from the walls.
Unfortunately the paintings themselves had but a short life. Less than
fifty years after the last one was completed they were already in a
deplorable condition, largely through damp. Probably the three months’
interval which elapsed between the completion of the building and the
beginning of its decoration was due to the desire to allow the walls to
become thoroughly dry; but even this precaution was not sufficient to
save Holbein’s handiwork from gradual destruction. The walls, possibly
from faulty construction, appear never to have become entirely free from
moisture, while the paintings were also allowed to suffer from general
neglect. Wurstisen in his _Epitome Historiæ Basiliensis_, published in
1577,[276] speaks of them as “delineations of the choicest things by the
hand of the German Apelles,” but two years later the largest of them was
reported to be so terribly injured by the weather that it was in danger
of complete destruction. The Council, therefore, commissioned the
painter Hans Bock to make a copy of it in oils on canvas, which, when
completed, was hung on the wall in front of the original painting. This
“large piece,” which Bock copied in 1579, was probably the whole of the
back wall, containing the “Rehoboam” and the “Samuel and Saul.” This
work occupied his whole time for twenty-six weeks, and his application
for payment for this half-year’s work, dated the 23rd November 1579, to
be found among the Basel archives. In it he demands one hundred florins,
a sum which the Council evidently considered too great, although it
works out at little more than a shilling a day in modern money, a
moderate but not a contemptible wage as rates of payment went in those
days. Among the reasons Bock gives for asking so much is that far more
is really due to a copyist, who has to imitate laboriously the work of
another, than to one who paints merely from his own fancy; and he goes
on to say that, “among all the Holbein pieces in the painted hall, this
is not only the greatest in length, but also contains the most difficult
and laborious work, as, besides landscape, there are one hundred faces
drawn perfectly or partially, so that I must copy them all piece by
piece, besides many horses, weapons, and other things.”[277] The details
he mentions were only to be found in one of the paintings, that of
“Samuel and Saul,” though it did not contain nearly one hundred heads,
but with the adjoining picture of “Rehoboam,” which Bock probably
included, the number would be nearly correct.

[Sidenote: DESTRUCTION OF THE WALL-PAINTINGS]

One hundred years later the wall-paintings were still to be seen, though
rapidly deteriorating. They are mentioned by Tonjola (1661), who quotes
the various inscriptions which accompanied them,[278] and by Patin
(1676), who speaks of the three walls of this hall as painted by
Holbein. After this all traces of them were gradually lost, damp and
neglect almost obliterating them. They were no longer visible in 1796,
for Peter Ochs does not mention them in his description of the Council
Chamber.[279] Even Bock’s copy seems to have fallen to pieces, and in
the end the walls were covered with tapestry hangings, and Holbein’s
work was completely forgotten. In 1817, however, when some repairs were
carried out in the hall, necessitating the removal of the tapestries, a
few remaining traces of the original work were discovered. On the fresco
of “Charondas,” on the north wall, the date 1521 was still legible.
Seven fragments of considerable size were saved, from the three
paintings of “Rehoboam,” “Curius Dentatus,” and “Zaleucus,” and small
copies of the chief remains were made in water-colours by Hieronymus
Hess for the art firm of Birmann, and these are now preserved in the
Basel Gallery (Nos. 328-332). From such inadequate materials as these it
is possible to obtain only a very general idea of the original beauty of
this great undertaking. It would be supposed that these mural
decorations, painted as they were on interior walls, would have long
outlived Holbein’s work of a similar nature on the exterior façades of
Hertenstein’s mansion and the House of the Dance, whereas the contrary
was the case, for in both the last-named instances the paintings
remained in fairly good condition until comparatively modern times. This
indicates that the cause of the rapid destruction of the Town Hall
decorations was not owing to Holbein’s lack of knowledge of the proper
methods of fresco painting, but was due solely to bad building on the
part of the Council’s architect, and, later on, to neglect at the hands
of the authorities, who made no adequate attempt to preserve works which
added so great a distinction to their building.

The four chief subjects painted by Holbein in 1521-22 were—(1) Charondas
of Catanea, the law-giver of the city of the Thurii, who had issued a
decree forbidding the wearing of arms in the public assembly under pain
of death, but himself inadvertently broke the law. Hurrying to the
council chamber from a journey, he forgot to leave his weapons behind
him; and on attention being called to this by one of his enemies, he
immediately cried out, “By Zeus! the law shall be master,” and ran
himself through with his sword. (2) Zaleucus of Locris, whose laws
punished adultery by the loss of both eyes. His only son was found
guilty of this crime, but the people begged him to show mercy, as the
culprit was his heir, and their future ruler. Zaleucus resisted their
entreaties for a long time, but in the end yielded to the extent of
sacrificing one of his own eyes, and ordering only one of his son’s to
be removed, thus upholding the majesty of the law. (3) Curius Dentatus,
who, kneeling before his fire, preparing his modest meal, sends away the
ambassadors of the Samnites, who have come with rich presents in order
to persuade him to take no part in the war against them. (4) Sapor, king
of Persia, who is making use of the body of the captive emperor Valerian
as a step from which to mount his horse. Between these pictures were
placed single figures of Christ, King David with the harp, Justice,
Wisdom, and Temperance. The remaining large subjects, which were painted
in 1530-31, were Rehoboam spurning the Elders of Israel, Saul rebuked by
Samuel, and possibly Hezekiah breaking the Idols.

In the picture of “Charondas” the action takes place in a lofty hall,
its roof supported by richly-decorated columns, with long architraves
covered with bands of sculptured figures and medallions. Charondas
stands in front of the councillors in the act of plunging his sword into
his breast, as with uplifted eyes he calls the gods to witness that he
is prepared at all costs to uphold the laws. Some of the onlookers sit
spell-bound, too overcome with surprise and agitation to attempt to stay
his hand, while others are still disputing among themselves as to the
necessity or justice of so severe a punishment for so trivial a fault.
This is one of the frescoes which Hess copied in 1817,[280] and the
Basel Gallery also possesses a contemporary copy of Holbein’s original
design,[281] which was probably made by some pupil or assistant attached
to his own workshop. When the two are compared, it becomes apparent that
Holbein, when he came to paint the subject upon the wall, added
considerably to its length. Hess’s copy is almost twice as long as it is
high, and on either side three or four figures have been added to the
group of councillors which do not appear in the copy of the first
design, which is almost square in its proportions, and corresponds in
size with Holbein’s original design for the “Sapor” subject.[282]

[Sidenote: “THE BLINDING OF ZALEUCUS”]

In the “Zaleucus” the scene is laid in a great chamber with a large
arched opening at one end, through which can be seen the outer walls of
the palace and other Renaissance buildings illuminated by sunshine. The
blinding of the two men is depicted with great realism. The son falls
back in his chair, with open mouth and a look of terror on his face as
the executioner prepares to tear out his left eye. Opposite to him his
father, crowned, in princely robes, an aged man, with long silvery
beard, sits in his chair of state, placed in front of heavy tapestry
hangings, freely offering himself to the torture. Holbein has very
skilfully marked the contrast between the abject fear of the culprit,
who appears about to scream aloud, and the old man, who makes ready to
meet the sharp pain with dignified restraint, and only displays his
feelings in the way in which he grips the arms of his throne. In the
case of the son, the executioner, dressed in the body armour of a Roman
soldier, is using considerable violence; in that of the father, he is
first examining the eye with a lens in order that he may remove it with
as little pain as possible. This severe object-lesson in the majesty of
the law is witnessed by a great crowd of spectators, all clad in togas,
who regard the scene with contending emotions of horror and compassion.
Two fragments of the original painting are still preserved at Basel—the
head of Zaleucus (No. 331), and that of one of the spectators (No. 332).
Of this fresco also there is a water-colour copy at Basel made by Hess
from the almost obliterated original,[283] and a sixteenth-century copy
of Holbein’s design for it.[284] In this case the two copies agree in
their proportions, and indicate that the painting was one of the smaller
of the chief subjects with which the room was decorated. According to
Dr. Ganz, three other old copies of this wall-painting exist, one by H.
R. Manuel in a private collection in France, one by J. Wentz, done in
1551, now in the Basel Collection, and the third in a glass painting of
1580.[285]

Of the picture of “Curius Dentatus” no record remains beyond the
water-colour copy made by Hess in 1817,[286] and a fragment of the
painting itself in a bad state of preservation, showing the heads of the
three foremost of the five Samnite ambassadors (No. 330) (Pl. 40
(2)).[287] From Hess’s copy it is to be gathered that this composition
must have been an exceptionally fine one, though one of the smallest of
the series. The characters are placed under an open portico with round
arches through which a wide expanse of country is seen. There is a tall
tree in the foreground, and in the distance buildings and a bridge over
a river, and a lofty mountain. Curius, dressed in Roman armour, is
kneeling in front of his open hearth, cooking his evening repast, and
looking round, without rising, at the five ambassadors, who are attired
in rich Renaissance dress, and bear golden vessels and a large dish full
of gold. Curius, refusing their bribes, points to the turnips he is
cooking, and exclaims: “Malo hæc in fictilibus meis esse et aurum
habentibus imperare” (“I would rather have these in my pot and rule over
those who have gold”). These words were painted over the picture itself.
Each one of the larger compositions, as well as the single figures, had
similar painted inscriptions in Latin, and other admonitory couplets
were placed upon the walls, the text of all of them being given by
Tonjola in his _Basilea Sepulta._ The hall in which Curius is receiving
the Samnites fills the upper half of the fresco, and is supported on
masonry which occupies the lower half, in which is seen the opening to a
vaulted chamber or cellar, in front of which stands an armed man,
possibly intended to represent the messenger of the Basel Town Council,
as he is dressed in the black-and-white armorial colours of the city,
and wears a small badge with the city’s coat of arms fastened to his
shoulder. His right hand is raised to his feathered hat as though he
were about to salute the spectator. This picture was intended to glorify
republican simplicity, and may have had reference also to the burning
question of the “French pensions,” which helped to bring about Jakob
Meyer’s downfall.[288]

[Sidenote: “SAPOR AND VALERIAN”]

Of the fourth picture, “Sapor and Valerian,” the only record remaining
is the beautiful design at Basel from Holbein’s own hand (Pl. 41).[289]
The drawing is lightly washed with water-colour, chiefly red in the
faces and the brickwork of the architectural background, and blue and
grey in other parts. This picture was one of the narrower ones, and the
space was crowded with figures. In the centre, the aged Emperor,
crowned, and with a long white beard, kneels on the ground resting on
his outspread hands, his body pressed down by the weight of Sapor, who
places one foot on his back as he prepares to mount his horse. The
latter, like all the other figures, is dressed in the costume of
Holbein’s own day, with a long sword and a gold chain across his
shoulders. The horse is held by a foot-soldier, in a blue cloak, who
looks over his shoulder towards the spectator. The space behind the
central group is filled with soldiers, mounted and on foot. The knights,
some of whom are in full armour, carry long lances over their shoulders,
which add to the effect of the scene, while the men on foot hold aloft
great pikes. The mounted knight near the centre, with plumes all round
his broad hat, is a noble and dignified figure, and the drawing of
Sapor’s horse is excellent. The procession comes along the street from
the right, and passes round the corner of the building, which fills in
the background, as in several of the earlier “Cross-Bearing” pictures.
This building, which is seen from an angle, with deep arched arcading
below and a row of windows above, is a representation of the
recently-finished Town Hall of Basel, within which the wall-painting
itself was placed, and the quaint building next to it, with its
battlemented cresting seen against the blue sky, is to be found marked
on Matthaeus Merian’s plan of the city (1615). It was in reality
separated by two other houses from the Rathaus, but Holbein, attracted
no doubt by its picturesqueness, has moved it nearer. Over Sapor’s head
is a large ribbon label inscribed “Sapor Rex Persar,” and below the
Emperor is written “Valerianus Imp.” On either side are shown the
pillars which divided the chief compositions from each other; flat
columns, the upper half covered with carving of Renaissance design, and
the lower with slabs of coloured marbles and a circular medallion
containing an antique head such as is to be found in almost all
Holbein’s architectural drawings. An inscription at the foot, which
runs, “Hans Conradt Wolleb schanckts Mathis Holzwartenn,” gives the
names of two consecutive owners of this drawing. Wolleb, who was
Magistrate of Basel, died on September 9, 1571. On August 6th of that
year the Alsatian poet, Matthias Holzwart, permitted a performance of
his play, _King Saul and the Shepherd David_, to be given in the Basel
market-place, and Wolleb may have presented the drawing to him at that
time in recognition of the event. The same border also contains the
letters A.V.E. in a monogram, probably the initials of a third owner of
the design.[290]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 41.


[Illustration:

  SAPOR AND VALERIAN
  Design for one of the wall-paintings in the Basel Town Hall
  _Pen and water-colour drawing_
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: COMPLETION OF TWO OF THE WALLS]

The five single figures in painted niches which filled in the smaller
spaces on the walls had each an appropriate inscription in Latin. The
Basel Gallery possesses copies of Holbein’s preliminary studies for each
one of them, which, like the similar copies of the Charondas and
Zaleucus designs, are drawn on paper made in Basel with a water-mark
which was not used after 1524, thus showing that they must be
contemporary, and, as already suggested, very possibly done by some one
in Holbein’s own studio.[291] Christ[292] is represented holding a long
tablet with the words: “Quod tibi non vis fieri alteri non facias”
(“What thou dost not wish to be done to thee, that do to no other”). In
the band of ornament at his feet is a small tablet with the date 1523.
King David[293] is shown with his harp, and a scroll over his head with
“Juste judicate filii hominum” (“Judge justly, ye sons of men”).
Justice,[294] crowned, stands beneath an open arch behind a balustrade,
with her balance at her feet. With her sword, grasped in her right hand,
and with the forefinger of her left, she is pointing to a large tablet
suspended from the top of the arch, which contains the inscription: “O
vos reigentes obliti privatorum publica curate” (“O ye rulers, forget
your private affairs, and care for those of the public”). Wisdom[295] is
shown in a shell-crowned niche. She has a double face, and her long hair
falls below her waist. In her left hand she holds a torch, and in her
right a book with the inscription, “Inicium sapiencie timor domini”
(“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom”). A scroll over the
torch bears the words, “Experiri prius consilio quam armis prestat” (“It
is better to try by counsel than by arms”). Finally, Moderation[296] is
represented as a young woman with long, clinging garments, in the act of
pouring wine from a large vessel of blown glass into a small flagon. The
admonition in her case runs, “Qui sibi plus licere vult quam deceat sue
studet ruine” (“He who wishes to enjoy more than is his due, acts to his
own destruction”). Other inscriptions quoted by Tonjola appear to refer
to further paintings, possibly single figures only, of which, however,
no traces remain. The compositions on the “back wall,” with subjects
from the Old Testament, painted some eight years afterwards, are
described in a later chapter.[297]

While Holbein was carrying out the earlier paintings, the sculptor
Martin Lepzelter was also at work in the Council Chamber. He carved two
half-length figures of prophets and four coats of arms for the pillars
which supported the ceiling, for which he was paid eight Basel pounds on
August 3, 1521.[298]

When, on the 29th November 1522, on the Saturday before St. Andrew’s
Day, Holbein received a final payment of twenty-two Basel pounds and ten
shillings, which was the balance of the 120 gulden he was to receive for
the whole work, he had completed two walls of the Council Chamber, and
he felt that he had more than earned the amount of his commission,
although the back wall was still untouched. He, therefore, made
representations to the Council to this effect, and they appear to have
felt the justice of the claim, as they could hardly have failed to do,
when they saw in how brilliant a manner the completed portion had been
carried out. In consequence, they agreed that he had fully earned the
money, and ordered the balance to be paid to him, deciding “to let the
back wall alone till further orders.”[299] In any case, as the winter
had begun, it would have been necessary to postpone the completion of
the work until the following spring, and, no doubt, it was the original
intention that Holbein should finish the room as soon as the season
permitted. For some reason, however, nothing was done in the matter
until after his return from his first visit to England. Possibly the
Council were too busily occupied in attempting to keep order in a city
in which the spread of the new opinions brought about by the Reformation
was already dividing the townsfolk into two separate camps. In the
spring of 1522, also, Basel was engaged in several military enterprises,
which would cause the Council to hesitate before spending money upon
such luxuries as art, which could be dispensed with until times were
less critical and the city’s affairs more prosperous.


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                              CHAPTER VII

              DESIGNS FOR PAINTED GLASS AND OTHER STUDIES

Holbein’s work as a designer for the glass-painters—Eight panels of
  saints—The “Prodigal Son”—The “Two Unicorns”—Designs with landsknechte
  at Berne, Basel, Berlin, and Paris—Heraldic drawings for Erasmus and
  others—Designs showing the influence of North German art—“Virgin and
  St. John”—The “Annunciation”—“St. Elizabeth”—“Virgin and Child with
  kneeling donor”—The great “Passion” series—Studies of costumes of
  Basel ladies—“St. Adrian”—Studies from the nude—“A Fight”—Animals.


IN addition to his commissions, both public and private, for
wall-paintings, Holbein was frequently employed in the preparation of
designs for artificers in more than one branch of decorative art. The
Amerbach Collection is rich in works of this class, more particularly in
designs for glass windows. It must be remembered in studying these
“scheibenrisse” that they were intended for painted, and not for
stained, glass. The older method of employing translucent glass of
various tints, in which the colour is incorporated in the body of the
glass itself, so that the window depended for its beauty on its
transparency, had already become, in the Switzerland of Holbein’s day, a
little-practised and, in some districts, an almost forgotten art, its
place being taken by glass, usually white, on which the design was
painted in enamel colours and afterwards permanently fixed by refiring.
Such glass painting produced the effect of a semi-opaque design on a
translucent ground, and, beginning merely with a few brown lines to
indicate the features, or the patterns on a dress, it had gradually
developed, in Germany and Switzerland, into a method of pictorial
representation which imitated as closely as possible a painted picture,
and was, therefore, in marked contrast to the older and more beautiful
art, in which the great aim of the artist was to produce a lovely effect
of transparent colour. In the newer method, which in reality was opposed
to the true nature of the medium employed, but which nevertheless became
a thing of beauty when designed by a master, small panels, as a rule,
were used, which were surrounded by plain white glass, so that they had
the appearance of little pictures set in the middle of a window. The
panels being small ones, and the subjects on them drawn on a small
scale, it was necessary that the panes should be placed near the ground
so that they could be properly seen, and this, again, made it essential
that the draughtsmanship should be as careful and delicate as possible,
design having usurped the place of colour. These glass paintings were
usually surrounded by a framework of a decorative nature which divided
them sharply from the plain glass around them, and helped still more to
produce the effect of a picture. The lines of leadwork, which, in the
older method, held the pieces of vari-coloured glass together, were
abandoned as much as possible, as they naturally marred the delicate
pictorial effect of the work, and were sometimes confined to the
boundary lines of the panel. Under such conditions it was natural that
the glass-workers should turn to artists for their supply of designs,
since accurate draughtsmanship was now all-important.

Holbein, who was largely employed by the Basel glaziers and
glass-painters for this purpose, made the freest and finest use of this
new convention in the decoration of windows. The convention was, no
doubt, a wrong one, and in the end all but extinguished the older and
more beautiful art, but Holbein took it as he found it, and brought to
it all his mastery of design and purity of line, so that the panels he
produced were of great beauty and fine decorative effect. In his day
glass-painting was no longer confined to the services of the Church, but
was introduced into the windows of all private houses of importance,
usually in the form of single panes with the householder’s coat of arms,
or with sacred or profane subjects, according to his tastes. Thus he had
many opportunities of showing his skill in this form of decoration, and
he made use of a great variety of subjects. In some instances, such as
the “Passion” series described below, the treatment is frankly
pictorial, and the decorative effect is confined to the framework of
Renaissance architecture within which the subject is set; but in others,
and more particularly those intended for the display of shields with
armorial bearings, the design becomes largely a decorative one, in which
the artist gives free play to his imagination and taste for
ornamentation in the Italian manner. Whatever the subject, however, each
drawing displays wonderfully free yet delicate draughtsmanship, skilful
arrangement of the design in the space to be filled, and extraordinary
facility of invention. The studies appear often to have been made to the
exact size of the panel they were to decorate, and, as a rule, Holbein
left the question of colour to the taste of the glass-painter; in a few
cases, however, he indicated it by the addition of one or two slight
tints. There can be little doubt that they were carried out largely in
that combination of pale yellow for the higher lights and brown or
grisaille for the darker portions and shadows which was the customary
practice in Switzerland at that period, with touches of more positive
colour here and there in the dresses of the figures, the landscape
backgrounds, and the coats of arms. The designs are in most cases drawn
with the reed pen and washed with Indian ink.

[Sidenote: EIGHT PANELS OF SAINTS]

Only two or three of these designs, of which some thirty or more are in
existence, are dated, and, with the exception of four or five made
during his sojourn in Lucerne,[300] they were all produced between the
years 1519 and 1525 or 1526. Among the earliest are eight panels of
Saints at Basel (Nos. 333-40),[301] which were designed in pairs, and
were to be placed side by side in the two divisions of a single window,
the architectural framework and background in which the figures are set
corresponding in almost all details in each pair of designs, so that it
is evident that they were intended to be seen together, forming between
them a complete picture. They were probably produced for the decoration
of some large hall, or the aisle of a church. Two other drawings
belonging to the same series are contemporary copies after Holbein from
the hand of some follower, one of which bears the date 1520 and the coat
of arms of the town of Basel, proving that the designs were made, most
probably towards the close of 1519, shortly after his return from
Lucerne. They appear to have been done for the cloisters at Wettingen.

The first pair represent the Virgin standing with the Infant Jesus in
her arms,[302] in the left division, and some prince of the Church in
the robes of a bishop in the right.[303] This last figure has been
described as that of St. Pantalus, the patron saint of Basel, but there
is little resemblance in expression to the fine head of that bishop in
Holbein’s design for the organ shutters in the minster. Here the face is
full of arrogance, rather than piety, and the prelate bears himself
proudly as though conscious of his exalted position. His mitre and
ecclesiastical robes are richly embroidered and ornamented. A marked
peculiarity in the drawing of all the figures in this series is their
appearance of stumpiness, the legs being too short for the bodies. A
similar defect is to be noted in some of Holbein’s earlier designs for
book ornaments. In the case of these glass designs it may have been that
they were to be enlarged afterwards by the glass-painter, and placed at
some height from the floor, and that Holbein, therefore, attempted
foreshortening. This, however, is not very probable, as all his designs
for this purpose seem to have been intended for small paintings, to be
placed near the eye, and it is much more likely that this characteristic
of his figures was a fault, also to be noticed in his earlier woodcut
designs, of which he afterwards broke himself. The two in question are
placed in an architectural setting of a somewhat fantastic design, with
large open arches through which an extensive mountainous landscape is
seen. Below the hills, on the right of the bishop, are the houses of a
village and a stone crucifix by the wayside, and on the left a torrent
rushing down a mountain gorge crowned with trees, and forming a large
waterfall under a bridge of one wide arch where the stream joins the
plain. The same landscape is continued in the background of the panel of
the Virgin and Child, the river wandering away through another gorge
among the hills on the left. This view is strongly reminiscent of the
St. Gotthard district and the Devil’s Bridge over the Reuss, and affords
some slight additional proof of Holbein’s expedition across the
Alps.[304]

A second pair represent St. Anna with the Virgin and Child, and St.
Barbara.[305] Here again the unusual shortness of the figures is very
apparent. St. Barbara, who is dressed in the rich costume of a Basel
lady of the sixteenth century, stands in the characteristic attitude,
with the upper part of her body bent backwards, and the heavy dress held
up in front by the hand, as is the case in each one of the series of
studies of ladies’ costumes by Holbein to be described later, which thus
appears to have been the customary habit of walking at that time. The
setting is less fantastic and elaborate than in the two panels just
described, and consists in each of an open arch supported by pillars,
with sculptured figures above the capitals. Although the details of the
ornamentation of the columns do not exactly agree in the two designs,
they are evidently a pair. On the left-hand panel, as in the one on the
same side in the preceding set, there is an empty shield for a coat of
arms, and the background is also a mountainous landscape, though drawn
in less detail. In the design of St. Catherine,[306] which forms one of
a pair with St. John the Baptist, the background is almost entirely
filled with a building with pointed arches supported by short pillars,
but on the left a narrow strip of landscape is visible, with an archway
or bridge across a road with a building on the far side of it, and
distant mountains behind. The face of the saint is a very charming one,
and her hair falls in elaborate ringlets down her back, and is
surmounted with a jewelled crown. In the pair representing St. Andrew
and St. Stephen, Dr. Ganz recognises, in the arcading with flat
pilasters and shallow scallop-crowned niches in front of which the
saints are standing, an architectural motive taken from the cathedral of
Como.[307] There is no need to describe every figure in this series in
detail, each one of which wears a halo, a symbol of which Holbein
afterwards made very little use.

[Sidenote: THE “PRODIGAL SON” WINDOW]

Two other designs for painted glass in the Basel Gallery are of about
the same date as these eight sheets with figures of saints, and were
done in the earlier years of his second Basel period, either in 1519 or
1520. One represents the “Prodigal Son,” and the other is an heraldic
device with two unicorns supporting a shield. The former is a very
effective design, in which the Prodigal Son is shown tending a herd of
swine (Pl. 42 (2)).[308] He strides along, barefooted, in ragged
clothes, through which his bare knees protrude, his long staff on his
shoulder, and his short sword grasped in his left hand. His head is
turned towards the spectator, and there is a look of misery and despair
on his face. The animals he is driving have come to a halt round the
trunk of a large oak tree which fills the greater part of the left-hand
side of the sheet, and is one of the most considerable pieces of
tree-drawing Holbein ever designed. Some of the pigs are devouring the
fallen acorns; others raise their snouts as though expecting the food to
drop from the branches into their mouths. Their keeper, whose miserable
thoughts are far away from his task, unconsciously thrusts the end of
his staff into the eye of one of the herd. The background is a landscape
of wide expanse, with a large walled-in building with farm outhouses on
the bank of a river in the middle distance, and a range of mountains on
the horizon. The whole is surrounded by a simple framework consisting of
a single arch supported by pillars, with two nude sculptured figures in
the angle above the capitals. The rather weak and wavering line of the
flattened arch, and the similar hesitating double spiral which runs
round the pillars, together with the very simple ornamentation of arch,
capitals and bases, indicate that the design is quite an early one,
though the drawing of the figure and the accompanying animals is
excellent and full of character. An empty shield for a coat of arms is
placed in the right-hand corner against the column, and a flat space is
left below for an inscription.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 42.


[Illustration:

  TWO LANDSKNECHTE
  Design for painted glass
  BASEL GALLERY
]


[Illustration:

  THE PRODIGAL SON
  Design for painted glass
  BASEL GALLERY
]

The sheet with the two unicorns[309] is much more elaborate in its
architectural treatment, and is a design of great decorative effect. The
two beasts stand on their hind-legs, and support with their forelegs an
empty shield of Italian fashion. The animals themselves are
realistically drawn, and are not treated merely as conventional heraldic
beasts, the sense of reality being increased by the head of the one on
the left, which is turned round over its back, so that the horns of both
point in the same direction, but at different angles. They are placed
beneath a very richly-decorated edifice which Holbein appears to have
taken from one of the monumental tombs to be seen in many of the cities
of Northern Italy. The principal feature is a barrel-shaped wooden roof,
supported by a flattened arch and double pillars at the sides and in the
centre. At either side of this roof-like structure rise short chimneys
of Italian design, and above it is a deep frieze with Renaissance
carvings supported by three short pillars. As Dr. Ganz points out,[310]
the design has features in common with the fine tomb of Andrea Fusina,
now in the Archæological Museum in Milan, while the three sculptured
antique heads which crown the lower columns have their counterpart both
in the Certosa of Pavia and the church of S. Maria delle Grazie in
Milan. The whole design, in fact, so closely resembles in its elaborate
architecture these Renaissance monuments, that it is impossible to
believe that it was the result of Holbein’s imagination alone, but
rather was due to personal knowledge and actual study. In the landscape
background is seen a country château with a projecting tourelle.

[Sidenote: FIGURES OF LANDSKNECHTE]

Among these designs for painted glass there is a considerable group in
which the mercenary soldier or landsknecht of Holbein’s day forms the
chief subject. These warriors are introduced as heraldic supporters of
shields, and were intended, no doubt, for the use of burghers and nobles
who had seen military service, while others were designed for the city
authorities. The fact that in most cases the shields are left blank
shows that Holbein produced them as stock patterns for the
glass-painters, which could be adapted to the use of any customer who
desired a military subject for his window. In these designs Holbein has
made effective use of the picturesque and sumptuous dress and
richly-decorated weapons these bold and reckless fighting-men affected.
One of the earliest of them in point of date is in the Historical Museum
of Berne.[311] It is, unfortunately, only the lower half of a design, of
which the remaining portion is now lost. Only the legs, the lower part
of the body, and the left hand, with which the landsknecht grasps his
sword, are seen, together with part of the shaft of his lance. His right
foot is hidden by a large shield containing the coat of arms of the city
of Basel. The bases of the columns on either side very closely resemble
those in the glass design of the “Prodigal Son,” which places the date
at about 1520. The soldier is represented as standing on a platform
above the river Rhine, and down below, seen between and on either side
of his outstretched legs, is a distant landscape, drawn in a free and
masterly manner, of exceptional interest on account of its elaborate
detail. Across the rapidly-flowing river stretches a wide tressel bridge
supported on wooden piers, which leads to an arched gateway in a high
tower. Along the river bank, on either side of the bridge, are a number
of houses, and behind them a town within steep fortified walls, with
many buildings huddled together, and a church tower rising above the
surrounding roofs. In the distance ranges of snow mountains close in the
view. Trees and a high rock on the near side of the water fill the
background on the left-hand side of the design. The view Holbein has
thus shown is by no means an exact representation of Basel as seen from
across the water, but is rather the simplified type of a Rhine town of
his day. It is not improbable that the artist, in addition to the
wall-paintings in the new Town Hall, also supplied designs for the
windows in some of the rooms, in which case this fragment of a drawing,
which contains the city coat of arms, may very possibly have formed a
part of such decoration.[312]

The other sheets with landsknechte were produced some few years after
the Berne study, though, according to an old copy of one of them, not
later than 1524. In most of them the motive consists of two warriors
supporting an empty shield between them. It was first used by Holbein in
1517 in a glass painting for Hans Fleckenstein of Lucerne,[313] and was
followed a year or two afterwards by the beautiful design in the Basel
Gallery and the still later and equally beautiful study in the Berlin
Print Room. The date of the last-named drawing can be fixed with some
certainty from an old copy which is inscribed 1523. The example at Basel
(Pl. 42 (1))[314] must have been done shortly after the completion of
the wall-paintings of the Hertenstein house. In the decorative details
of the architectural setting it bears a close resemblance to the glass
design of the Madonna with the view of Lucerne in the background, of the
year 1519, while the warrior on the right is seen again in an early
glass design in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris.[315] The double
columns carrying the arch in the Basel drawing are richly ornamented,
and at the base are supported by a number of small nude sculptured
figures. Festoons of laurel leaves and ribbons hang down from the arch—a
feature to be found in many of these designs—and in the angles over the
capitals are round medallions with antique heads, which was also a
favourite decorative motive with Holbein, and, as already noted, is
rarely missing from any of his Renaissance frameworks. The two
landsknechte wear breastplates over their gay attire, and large slouched
hats with many feathers. The one on the left, a bearded man, carries
sword and dagger, and holds a battle-axe on his shoulder; the one on the
right, clean shaven, leans upon the shaft of his lance. The two figures
are splendidly conceived and drawn with the greatest force and truth;
and the whole design affords proof of how considerable an effect his
stay in Lucerne and his short visit to Northern Italy had upon his art,
and of the extraordinarily rapid manner in which his genius for
decorative design, and his delight in the invention of these settings of
Renaissance architecture, developed under these new influences. The
background of this particular design, which, according to Dr. Ganz, is
strongly reminiscent of the country in the Vierwaldstättersee, shows the
tall tower of some village church, the lower part of which is hidden by
the beautifully-designed Italian shield which the two warriors support,
situated in a hilly landscape, with the sharp peaks of a range of
mountains in the distance.

[Sidenote: FIGURES OF LANDSKNECHTE]

A similar background is shown in the design in the Berlin Print
Room,[316] though only the red roof of the church tower appears above
the shield. This drawing has been touched with colour in places, the
faces of the two landsknechte with red, and also the roofs of the houses
of the village seen in the distance, the landscape with green and brown,
while colour is also used in several of the decorative details, such as
the festoons hanging from the wide flattened arch. The attitudes of the
two shield-bearers are more natural and less forced than in the Basel
sheet. They are dressed in the same fashion, the man on the right
wearing his large feathered hat fastened to his back, and leaning on a
large pike held with both hands. The soldier on the left, an exceedingly
graceful figure, with a long lance placed point downwards, rests one
hand on the shield, and with the other touches his sword hilt. The
architectural setting is similar in general design to that of the Basel
example, though here the arch is supported by pairs of short slender
columns, with sculptured figures of Judith and Lucretia standing on the
capitals, and above them Samson and Hercules, while a long frieze over
the arch contains a battle of nude foot soldiers and horsemen, in the
midst of a shallow stream.

In another drawing in the Basel Gallery,[317] the shield, a fine
heraldic design, completely fills the right-hand side of the sheet. It
contains a coat of arms consisting of two pears hanging from a branch
and a star on either side, and, surmounting the shield, a helmet with
large upstanding wings, between which is placed a branch with a single
pear, elaborate scroll-work falling on either side. On the left stands a
fierce-looking landsknecht, with his plumed hat on his back, and a great
two-handed sword upon his shoulder. Over the crown of the arch, but not
forming part of the architectural design, is a battle scene with four
men fighting, two with long lances and one with a gun. This drawing,
which is a most effective one, is signed “H.H.” The design in the
Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris,[318] appears to be one of the earliest of
all, produced during his stay in Lucerne. It is evident, from the figure
on the left-hand side, that it was ordered in celebration of a wedding,
the richly-dressed young lady wearing a bridal crown being the
newly-wedded wife of the landsknecht standing on the right. Each one
supports a shield with a coat of arms, the woman’s consisting of three
arrows, and the man’s of an anchor. The soldier, with long pike over his
shoulder, has a strong facial likeness, as already mentioned, to the
warrior on the right of the Basel design, while the face of his wife is
of the same type as the head in the Louvre study for the Solothurn
“Madonna.” In the background is a castle on a precipitous rock by the
side of a lake, shut in by a mountain range. The framework consists of
two columns with grotesque heads in the capitals, supporting some
elaborate scroll-work in place of an arch. Several other drawings in
which these mercenaries form the subject are in existence,[319]
including a study from life of a seated landsknecht at Berlin,[320]
which was formerly in the Lawrence and Suermondt Collections.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 43.


[Illustration:

  DESIGN FOR PAINTED GLASS
  With the Coat of Arms of the Von Hewen Family
  1520
  BASEL GALLERY
]

A glass design at Basel (No. 341), remarkable for the beauty and freedom
of its luxuriant Renaissance scroll design, and also for its fine
architecture, bears the date 1520 (Pl. 43).[321] This design is without
supporting figures, the whole of the centre of the sheet being filled
with a blank shield, surmounted by two helmets with elaborate crests,
one with the rampant body of a winged goat, and the other with a pair of
curved trumpet-shaped horns. From them flows, down either side of the
shield, a mass of beautifully-drawn scroll and leaf ornament. This
elaborate coat of arms, designed for a married couple, is placed in an
architectural setting resembling a Romanesque church portal. The
circular arch is supported by six pillars on either side. At the base of
the two nearer ones kneel warriors in Roman armour, supporting a blank
tablet for some inscription; above each is a small blindfolded and
trumpet-blowing cupid, with a body ending in foliated scrolls, and on
the capitals stand sculptured figures of Mercury and Cronos, the
devourer of mankind, resting on his scythe, and about to swallow a small
naked child. Behind their heads are two tablets, chained to the crown of
the arch, one inscribed “MERCHVRIVS EIN PLONET,” and the other, “ANNO
DOMINI·M·D·XX·H.” The upper moulding of the arch is filled with small
sculptured figures of saints, kings, warriors, and others of humbler
rank. In the lower right-hand corner is written “d he’ von Hewen,”
showing that the design was made for a member of the noble family of Von
Hewen, who was probably a churchman, and, judging from the inscription
round the helmet on the right—“DHIOEQV”—a knight of the Order of St.
John. Dr. Ganz suggests,[322] therefore, that the orderer of the glass
was Wolfgang von Hewen, Canon of Trier, Strasburg, and Chur, who became
Rector of Freiburg University in 1504. There is in the Basel Gallery a
companion drawing with the coat of arms of the Von Andlau family, which,
however, is not so fine a design.[323]

Another and still more elaborate design of a like nature, and of the
same year, 1520, was made for Georg von Massmünster, Abbot of Murbach,
of which the original glass painting is in a private collection in
Basel.[324] The coat of arms which fills the centre of the panel is
surmounted by a mitre between two croziers, and many small putti and
other figures are introduced into the architectural setting.

[Sidenote: COAT OF ARMS OF PETRUS FABRINUS]

Another purely heraldic drawing may be mentioned here, although not
intended for reproduction as a glass painting. It contains the arms of a
compatriot of Holbein’s, Petrus Fabrinus of Augsburg, who became Rector
of Basel University.[325] It is painted in gouache on vellum, and was
done for insertion in the Matriculation Book of the University in 1523.
The arms are placed in front of a Renaissance portico, supported by two
columns of green marble, and with a triangular pediment, over which is a
flaming brazier, while two naked cupids are seated on the capitals of
the columns. In the angles of the arch are two medallions with antique
crowned heads. A yellow curtain hides the whole of the lower part of the
background. The left half of the shield shows three roses on a blue
ground, and the right three fishes on black. It is crowned with a
helmet, from which springs the figure of a Moor in parti-coloured dress,
who holds in either hand, attached to ribbons from his turban, the three
roses and the three fish.

Another heraldic drawing for glass-painting is of particular interest
because it was designed by Holbein for Erasmus.[326] It represents the
truncated form of the god Hermes as Terminus within an arch supported by
single columns, standing in a wide, undulating landscape. The statue is
turned three-quarters to the left, the head surrounded by rays, the eyes
looking upwards. Over the head, suspended by ribbons from the arch,
hangs a large wooden tablet for an inscription, placed slantwise, like
the figure below it. The latter bears a considerable likeness to Erasmus
himself. The setting is unusually simple, both pillars and arch being
almost devoid of ornament, with the exception of a panel with
roughly-indicated winged figures terminating in floriated scrolls, and
two roundels with the customary heads in the angles of the arch. The
background, which consists of some open fields, with a tree or two, one
distant house, and hilly country beyond, the whole indicated with a few
lines and touches of green colour, slight as it is, shows to advantage
Holbein’s knowledge of landscape perspective. There is a freedom and
simplicity in the drawing, a dignity of conception, and a fine sense of
proportion, which indicate that it is one of the latest in date of his
drawings for glass, and that it was most probably made shortly before
his departure for England in 1526. Erasmus adopted Terminus, the god of
boundaries and established ways, as his symbol after Alexander Stuart,
Archbishop of St. Andrews, had presented him, when in Italy, with a gold
ring set with a cornelian on which was engraved the figure of Hermes and
the motto “CONCEDO NULLI”;[327] and this motto Holbein has placed in
large letters across the sky of the drawing on either side of the head.
Thus the design, by means of the symbols used, suggests the character of
the philosopher himself, a man who in the opinions he held would yield
to no man, and yet in his writings confined himself to established ways,
and broke few boundaries. This drawing is in the Amerbach Collection.

In the British Museum there is a glass design representing a Wild Man of
the Woods, drawn with the brush and washed with Indian ink and a slight
colour wash.[328] It represents a naked bearded man, with a defiant
look, his head and loins girt with forest leaves, holding an uprooted
sapling in his hands, and with feet planted apart. He stands on a stone
ledge forming the sill of a window, decorated with pilasters and
garlands in the Renaissance style and opening upon a hollow among
mountains covered with pines. It was purchased in 1895 with the Malcolm
Collection, and is an exceedingly fine drawing. Sandrart appears to have
possessed a copy of it.

[Sidenote: “CHRIST ON THE CROSS”]

Two glass designs, one in the Basel Gallery and the other in Paris, show
that though Holbein at this period of his life was strongly influenced
by North Italian art, yet the earlier influence of such German painters
as Grünewald and Hans Baldung Grien, gained through a study of their
great altar-pieces, had by no means been completely overshadowed. For
some years at least after he had become a citizen of Basel these two
divergent forces in his development both made themselves felt in varying
degrees in much of his work, so that it is not at all easy to arrange in
chronological order the large number of decorative designs and other
works he produced at this time. This double influence can be easily
traced in these “scheibenrisse” of “Christ on the Cross between the
Virgin and St. John,” and “The Annunciation.” In the former[329] the
influence of Grünewald is to be seen in the two standing figures, in
both of which, and more particularly in that of St. John, the acute
grief which overpowers them as they gaze on the crucified Christ is
strongly, even violently, depicted. St. John, by the agitated movements
of his whole body, his extended fingers, and his open mouth, shows how
passionately he is suffering. The framework which surrounds them is
over-decorated with a conglomeration of Renaissance motives. The side
columns are covered, and their form almost hidden, by masses of plastic
ornament, writhing snakes round the bases, and above them grotesque
heads with long tassels hanging from their mouths; and, higher up,
sculptured figures of a sphinx-like nature. In contrast to this, the
background is filled with one of his naturally-treated landscape scenes,
with a high rock on the right behind St. John, from which a tree is
growing, and on the left a glimpse of a town by a lake, with mountains
beyond and a cloudy sky overhead.

The “Annunciation” drawing, in the collection of M. Léon Bonnat,
Paris,[330] shows so many points in common with Grünewald’s altar-piece
at Isenheim, not only in the general arrangement of the figures, but in
numerous details, that it seems evident that Holbein must have been well
acquainted with it.[331] As his father was working at Isenheim for some
considerable time, it is exceedingly probable that his sons, even if
they did not accompany him directly there from Augsburg, as the first
stage on their journey to Basel, paid him one or more visits, for the
distance between the two places was not great. Holbein has placed the
kneeling Mary on one side of a wooden chest on which rests a cushion
with her book; on the other side the Angel of the Annunciation has just
alighted, an imposing winged figure, very richly and elaborately
dressed, holding a long sceptre in one hand, and the other outstretched
towards the Virgin. The latter is by no means one of Holbein’s most
pleasing representations of the Mother of our Lord; it is to the angel
the eye turns as the centre of interest. The Romanesque pillar and
frieze behind the Virgin is a motive taken from the crypt of the Minster
of Basel, while the wooden barrel roof of the chamber at the back, in
which the Virgin’s bed is placed, was common in Holbein’s day throughout
Switzerland in council chambers, courts of justice, and other large
rooms.[332] The architectural framework resembles that of the
“Crucifixion” drawing in the lavishness of its somewhat incongruous
ornamental details. The bases of the columns are sheathed with grotesque
heads from which spring large foliated scrolls, supporting wicker
baskets filled with fruit and leaves. Dr. Ganz gives the date of the
drawing as about 1521 or 1522.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 44.


[Illustration:

  ST. ELIZABETH, WITH KNEELING KNIGHT AND BEGGAR
  Design for painted glass
  BASEL GALLERY
]

In composition and technique the foregoing drawing resembles a design
for a glass painting in the Basel Collection, representing “St.
Elizabeth” (Pl. 44),[333] like the last named touched with bistre. The
figure of the saint is placed within a semicircular niche, round which
run a number of slender, decorated pillars, apparently of wood, which
support the dome-shaped roof with its large rosettes in compartments and
a frieze of ox-heads and ribbons. St. Elizabeth, who is dressed in the
rich costume of a noblewoman or wealthy burgher’s wife, with her hair
covered by a long veil which falls down her back, holds up the front of
her gown with her right hand in the customary Basel manner, and with the
other pours wine or water into a bowl held by a kneeling and almost
naked beggar, who gazes up into her face. On the other side of her
kneels a bearded knight in full armour, with hands raised in prayer, his
feathered helmet and his mailed gloves on the ground before him. He is
evidently the donor of the window for which the drawing is the original
design. His breastplate, with its high gorget, and his other
accoutrements, resemble those worn by St. Ursus in the Solothurn
picture, and the kneeling beggar recalls the penitent in the same work.
The saint, a very graceful and beautifully-drawn figure, is placed on a
low circular platform of wood or stone, giving the suggestion of a work
of sculpture. The whole is strongly reminiscent of the more elaborate
monumental tombs of the Italian Renaissance erected in the interior of
some church. At the bottom of the drawing, on either side, rise the
capitals of two columns, as though the niche in which the figures are
placed were raised at some considerable height from the ground. These
capitals bear small boys in Roman helmets holding empty shields. The
graceful and refined architecture of this drawing suggests, according to
Dr. Ganz, that it was designed after Holbein’s journey to Montpellier in
1523, during which he became acquainted with the fine buildings of the
French Renaissance in Besançon, Dijon, Lyon, and elsewhere.

[Sidenote: “ST. ELIZABETH WITH KNEELING DONOR”]

The same influence is to be seen in a second glass design at Basel,
representing the Virgin with the Child in her arms and a kneeling donor
on the left (Pl. 45),[334] in which the architectural setting is even
more beautiful than in the one just described, of which it is a free
variant. The Virgin stands, crowned, on a low sculptured pedestal in
front of a shallow niche under a circular arch beneath a pointed
vaulting, the filling in of which is carved like a scallop-shell, as in
the “Meyer Madonna.” The pilasters which support it and the frieze of
Renaissance ornamentation are flat, and the whole setting is admirable
in its restraint and quiet beauty, and its well-balanced masses. The
Virgin is surrounded with projecting rays from head to foot, a symbol of
the Immaculate Conception, and the whole figure, like that in the
foregoing design, is of tall, fine proportions, unlike so many of
Holbein’s figures in his earlier drawings, and gives the impression of a
carved wooden statue with rays of metal or gilded wood. The Child in her
arms is kicking out his legs, and raises one chubby fist in the air,
looking over his mother’s arm with a cross expression, as though angry
at having been lifted from the ground. The armed, kneeling knight
appears to be the same donor as in the other drawing, but is turned more
towards the spectator, with hands uplifted as he gazes in adoration.
This exceptionally beautiful and masterly design is said to have been
reproduced on a considerably larger scale for a window of the church of
St. Theodore in Little Basel. A fragment of the glass, containing the
Madonna’s head, is preserved in the Historical Museum in Basel.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 45.


[Illustration:

  THE VIRGIN AND CHILD, WITH A KNEELING DONOR
  Design for painted glass
  BASEL GALLERY
]

By far the most important of Holbein’s designs for glass windows are
those forming the series of ten subjects from the “Passion of Christ,”
in the Basel Gallery, which in dramatic power and fertility of invention
surpass all his earlier treatments of this great subject. The range over
which the series extends is a shorter one than in the painted
altar-piece in eight scenes representing the same subject. The latter
begins with the “Mount of Olives” and ends with the “Entombment,”
whereas the glass designs start with “Christ before Caiaphas” and
conclude with the “Crucifixion,” so that the part of the story which is
represented is told with greater detail. In most cases the designs are
arranged in pairs, with the architectural framework in close though not
exact correspondence, and similarly shaped and decorated spaces left at
the bottom for the inclusion of the appropriate scriptural text.
Evidently in each of the windows of the church for which they were
designed pairs of subjects were to be placed side by side. Two of the
scenes, however, seem to be single designs, the “Mocking” (No. 3), and
the “Ecce Homo” (No. 6), in which the setting corresponds with none of
the other drawings; while in the two last of the series, the “Nailing to
the Cross” and the “Crucifixion,” the architectural framework only
agrees in its general lines, though the designs evidently form a pair.
Apparently, therefore, the series was made for a range of six windows,
four of them with double and two with single divisions. According to Dr.
Ganz, the series was begun, but not completed, by Holbein in 1523, his
journey to the south of France intervening. On his return to Basel he
resumed the work, which was probably finished by the end of the same
year or early in 1524. He sees differences, more particularly in the
architecture, in certain of the drawings, such as the “Mocking,” which
suggest that the artist had gained fresh ideas from his study of the
buildings in the towns through which he passed on his way to
Montpellier, where he went to deliver the portrait of Erasmus to
Bonifacius Amerbach.

[Sidenote: THE “PASSION OF CHRIST” SERIES]

The series opens with “Christ before Caiaphas” (Pl. 46 (1)).[335] The
high priest is seen from the side, seated upon a throne raised on steps
within a richly-decorated hall, through the entrance to which the
soldiers escorting Christ are crowding. Christ stands below his judge,
his hands bound, and his sorrowful face turned towards one of the
soldiers, who, with uplifted fist, is about to strike him. The second
scene, that of the “Scourging” (Pl. 46 (2)),[336] is enacted in another
part of the same building, showing the same low, flattened arches, and a
corresponding pillar on the right with Renaissance carving in flat
relief and inlaid marble. Christ, his head drooping on his shoulder, an
almost nude figure, is bound to a broad circular column with a decorated
top. In the action of the three soldiers who are plying their whips and
scourges there is little of that exaggerated vehemence of action which
is to be seen in Holbein’s earlier versions of this subject, while in
both this and the succeeding pictures the type of face is less
repulsive, and greater reticence is shown in the display of brutality.
In most cases the faces of the soldiers are turned away from the
spectator, or half hidden by their action, or only seen in profile. The
distortion and caricature have disappeared, and his types have become
natural ones, taken from the daily life around him. The costume in few
instances only is that of Holbein’s time, and the soldiers wear what is
intended to be the antique Roman dress, such as had become familiar to
him through Mantegna’s designs. Near Christ, in “The Scourging,” a
little behind the central group, stands a bearded man in the gown and
hood of a monk, resting on a stick, as though superintending the
punishment, and waiting for a confession; and in the background a
gallery runs across the building under the arches, from which a second
hooded figure is looking down on the scene.

Unlike the other sheets of the set, the “Mocking of Christ” (Pl. 47
(1))[337] takes place beneath the high, pointed vaulting of some Gothic
building, with its arches open to the sky. Christ, blindfolded and with
tied hands, his body covered by the robe they have placed over him, is
seated in the centre, with bent head, and mouth half open with pain. One
of the soldiers kneels, and thrusts the reed into his hand as a sceptre,
while a second, stooping down, clutches his hair with one hand, and
raises the other as though about to strike him in the face. On the left
between two pillars stands a tall figure clad in a long gown, and the
upper part of his face concealed by a hood of a peculiar pattern, with a
hanging peak behind, such as is associated with portraits of Dante. This
spectator, who is also to be seen among the crowd in the first design,
has a cynical smile on his face. The whole group, which suggests a study
for a work of plastic art, is shown in strong foreshortening, as though
it were intended to be seen from some distance below; and the same
effect is produced by the perspective of the vaulting and in the drawing
of the hanging lamp, of an unusual and interesting pattern, over
Christ’s head.[338] This drawing is, perhaps, the most beautiful of all,
the happiest in its composition, and the most spiritual in its feeling.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 46.


[Illustration:

  CHRIST BEFORE CAIAPHAS
  The “Passion” series of designs for painted glass
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Illustration:

  THE SCOURGING OF CHRIST
  The “Passion” series of designs for painted glass
  BASEL GALLERY
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 47.


[Illustration:

  THE MOCKING OF CHRIST
  The “Passion” series of designs for painted glass
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Illustration:

  CHRIST CROWNED WITH THORNS
  The “Passion” series of designs for painted glass
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: THE “PASSION OF CHRIST” SERIES]

The remaining sheets of the series have each an independent
architectural framework, which forms no part of the actual setting of
the scene itself, but through which it is seen like a picture. In the
“Crowning with Thorns” and “Pilate washing his Hands” it consists of two
pillars with large diamond-shaped panels containing antique heads in
medallions, and, above the elaborately-carved capitals, charmingly-drawn
winged putti supporting the ends of a wreath which hangs from the centre
of the frame. In the “Crowning” (Pl. 47 (2)),[339] Christ is seen from
the side, an almost nude figure, seated on a high stone step in front of
a building upon which Holbein has given free play to his delight in the
richest Renaissance forms. In the Saviour’s downcast face is a look of
intense suffering, nobly borne. Two of the soldiers press the crown of
thorns upon his head by means of a long curved stick held across it,
which a third man is striking violently with a stout staff, in order to
force it securely down. A fourth kneels in front and thrusts the reed
into the victim’s hands with a jeer. Behind them, on the left, Pilate
stands, his wand of office held aloft. In the next scene (Pl. 48
(1))[340] Pilate is seated on a high throne with a canopy supported by
chains fastened to the necks of two sculptured figures, and long
curtains, both canopy and curtains being decorated with the lilies of
France. This throne, or judgment-seat, is placed in an open court, and
in the background rises a Gothic building of the type to be seen in the
streets of Basel in Holbein’s day. Pilate performs the symbolic action
of washing his hands with the greatest vigour and determination, one
attendant holding a large flat basin in front of him while a second
pours in the water. On the right Christ is being led away by a crowd of
soldiers with uplifted pikes and spears. Pilate, with head turned
towards the departing Saviour, is calling after him, strong excitement
shown on his face.

[Sidenote: THE “PASSION OF CHRIST” SERIES]

The next scene, the “Ecce Homo” (Pl. 48 (2)),[341] also takes place
outside the hall of judgment, with a large Gothic building with
pinnacled gables filling in the background. This building is neither
German nor Italian in style, but of late Gothic French architecture, of
the type of the hospital founded by the Chancellor Nicolas Rollin in
Beaune, a town through which Holbein would be likely to pass on his way
to Montpellier, and for this reason Dr. Ganz regards it as one of the
latest of the series, done after the artist’s return to Basel in 1524.
Holbein has made use of the same building in the cut of the Empress in
the “Dance of Death.”[342] Pilate stands in the open doorway on the
right, with Christ by his side. One hand grasps his wand of office, and
the other is held up as though demanding silence from the crowd of
spectators and soldiery filling the space below him, who are shouting
and gesticulating, and pointing their fingers in scorn at the drooping
figure by Pilate’s side. Here again the expression of suppressed anguish
and pain on Christ’s face has been admirably suggested by the artist,
who has also produced the effect of a large and vehemently-agitated
crowd of people by means of a few figures cleverly grouped and
contrasted. Behind the Saviour is seen the head of the man in the
hood-like cap, possibly intended for some official of the Court, who is
shown in two of the earlier designs of the set. He appears again in the
“Cross-bearing” (Pl. 49(1)),[343] the last figure issuing from the gate,
and here, too, Holbein, with admirable skill in composition, has
produced the effect of a large body of excited people. The procession on
its way to Calvary has just issued through the gateway of the town, a
view of the street with its high-roofed houses being seen in the
background through the archway, and on the right the outer wall with a
circular tower at the angle. The general composition follows with some
closeness Holbein’s earlier versions of the subject, though marked by
less passionate action and less insistence on ugly facial types. Christ,
a most nobly-conceived figure, in the centre of the procession, is
stumbling under the weight of the great cross, though he has not
actually fallen to the ground. He is urged forward by the soldiers who
surround Him, some of whom raise their clenched fists, while one, clad
in Roman helmet and armour, thrusts a great cudgel into his side with a
brutal energy which is mirrored in his face. In front walk the two
thieves, almost nude, their hands tied behind them, the one who is
turning towards the spectator with a finely-drawn head full of
character. Above the crowd rise the shafts and points of weapons of many
shapes, together with the uplifted ladder and the reed. The framework
surrounding this drawing and its fellow is exceptionally rich in its
decorative treatment. The columns with their basket-work and flat
stucco-like ornament are connected across the top of the sheet by an
acanthusleaf scroll design of great beauty, recalling similar work on
the organ shutters in Basel Minster, which surrounds and supports a
wreath containing an antique head in the centre. The scroll-work in the
next design, the “Stripping of Christ’s Garments” (Pl. 49 (2)),[344] is
entwined round the bodies of two naked boys. The Saviour kneels upon the
Cross, in the utmost misery and dejection, while two soldiers tear his
garments from him with great violence. In striking contrast to these two
men is the figure of the kneeling man in the front who is boring holes
in the wood to take the nails. He bends over his work, indifferent or
oblivious to the turmoil around him, or to the tragedy in which he is
playing his humble part. Behind the central group there is a great
concourse of people, among whom can be distinguished one of the thieves,
and a man with uplifted mattock preparing a hole for the Cross, and, on
the right, the head and shoulders of Pilate. In this scene most of the
figures are clad in contemporary dress.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 48.


[Illustration:

  PILATE WASHING HIS HANDS
  The “Passion” series of designs for painted glass
  BASEL GALLERY
]


[Illustration:

  ECCE HOMO
  The “Passion” series of designs for painted glass
  BASEL GALLERY
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 49.


[Illustration:

  CHRIST BEARING THE CROSS
  The “Passion” series of designs for painted glass
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Illustration:

  THE STRIPPING OF CHRIST’S GARMENTS
  The “Passion” series of designs for painted glass
  BASEL GALLERY
]

An even greater crowd is shown in the last scene but one, the “Nailing
to the Cross” (Pl. 50(1)).[345] Christ lies stretched upon the ground,
his body upon the Cross. One of the kneeling executioners forces down
his right arm with both hands, while a second, with uplifted hammer, is
driving in a huge nail through his palm. On the other side a third man
has seized the left arm and is dragging it with violence towards him in
order to stretch the body to the utmost. Behind them the soldiers are
casting lots for the garments, and still farther away the crosses with
the two thieves are being raised aloft. On the right Pilate, on a mule,
gazes down at the agonised body of the Saviour, as does a man placed
nearer to the spectator, wearing a scholar’s cap and gown, who bears
some small likeness to Erasmus. In the front, on the ground, is placed a
circular wooden box with handles, containing the executioner’s tools.
The columns of the framework are supported by fauns. In the last scene
of all, representing the “Crucifixion” (Pl. 50 (2)),[346] the two
crosses with the bodies of the thieves are placed at right angles to the
central one, on which Christ is nailed, as in the same subject in the
painted altar-panel. This drawing is the only one in the set in which
the Virgin and St. John are introduced. St. John, gazing upwards at the
Saviour, whose sufferings are at length over, supports the Virgin’s
drooping body as she leans forward with clasped hands against the foot
of the Cross. On the opposite side, on the right, the Centurion, in full
Roman armour, and with a large shield decorated with a Medusa head,
lifts up his right arm as a sign of his belief. Behind him is a soldier
with his crossbow under his arm, and his hands clasped as though he,
too, were moved to the utmost by the tragedy. A man who has just affixed
the placard over Christ’s head is descending a ladder raised at the back
of the Cross, and on either side, above the heads of the crowd, are seen
the uplifted reed with the sponge dipped in vinegar, and the spear which
pierced the Saviour’s side. In this scene there is little of the energy
and even violence of the earlier pictures; for the action has come to an
end with the death of Christ, and Holbein has depicted it as though a
hush had fallen over the multitude of people who, with uplifted faces,
are gazing on their handiwork. Their attitudes are quiet and restrained,
the vehemence of passion has subsided, and the presence of death has
quelled all anger and clamour. Each picture of the series is
characterised by great dramatic power, and a force and dignity of
conception which shows a striking advance in Holbein’s art when compared
with the early “Passion” scenes on canvas. In the simplicity and
grandeur of their composition, and in the largeness of their design,
they afford evidence that had Holbein worked on the southern side of the
Alps, he would have equalled, if he had not surpassed, in work of this
kind, the frescoes and wall-paintings of the great Italian masters.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 50.


[Illustration:

  CHRIST NAILED TO THE CROSS
  The “Passion” series of designs for painted glass
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Illustration:

  THE CRUCIFIXION
  The “Passion” series of designs for painted glass
  BASEL GALLERY
]

Replicas of seven of these ten designs, but reversed, are in the British
Museum.[347] They are not the direct work of Holbein’s hand, but offsets
taken from the Basel drawings by means of damped paper, a common
practice with the artist in making decorative designs for such things as
cups or goblets, in which the ornamentation on both sides of the object
was similar. In the same manner Holbein obtained copies of the “Passion”
drawings, and they were afterwards strengthened in places by retouches
with a fine brush and Indian ink, undoubtedly the work of Holbein
himself. They have thus very largely the character of the original
drawings, and are equal to them in effect, though lighter in appearance
on account of the method employed, the Indian ink shading being paler in
colour than in the originals. In the “Cross-bearing” additional
retouches in sepia by a later and weaker hand, which greatly mar the
design, are to be seen. The three missing subjects are the “Scourging,”
“Christ Crowned with Thorns,” and the “Nailing to the Cross.” This set
was formerly in the Lawrence Collection, from which it was purchased for
the Museum. It may possibly be the series possessed by Sandrart, which
he calls a “Passion in folio,” of which two compositions of the set were
missing. Sandrart offered 200 florins to anyone who would procure them
for him, so that he could exhibit the work complete for the honour of
the great master who designed it.

[Sidenote: COSTUMES WORN BY BASEL LADIES]

Among the drawings and designs of this period which were not made for
the purpose of reproduction in painted glass, the set representing the
costumes worn by contemporary Basel ladies is among the most important.
There are six of these,[348] or rather five, for the sixth, which
represents a _fille de joie_ with large hat and low-cut dress (Pl. 51
(1)), is not regarded as a work from Holbein’s own hand. They are pen
and wash drawings, and, with the exception of the last one, were in
Amerbach’s possession. It is not easy to say exactly for what purpose
they were made, but certainly not for painted glass. It has been
suggested that they represent designs for dresses invented by
Holbein—sixteenth-century fashion plates—which the ladies of Basel
afterwards used as models; but a simpler and more natural explanation is
that they are merely studies of costume made from time to time when
Holbein saw a dress which pleased him, which would be of use in the
carrying out of his wall-paintings, or his book illustrations, or in
other ways. They appear to have been done during his first years in
Basel. Perhaps the earliest of them is the one of the noble lady with a
hat covered with ostrich feathers,[349] and her hair confined in a
silken net at the back, who wears a dress of watered silk with a train,
which she holds up with her right hand. This, according to Dr. Ganz, is
of about the date 1516 or 1517, and in draughtsmanship and handling has
much in common with the portrait of Meyer’s wife, Dorothea, while the
embroidery and tassel-work of the bodice in both the drawing and the
picture are very similar. The drawing of the Basel “Edeldame” (Pl.
52),[350] taken almost from the back, which is the most beautiful of the
series, is certainly a little later in date, and shows great freedom,
delicacy, and truth of draughtsmanship. Her hair is covered with a
semi-transparent striped gauze cap, of a similar pattern to the one in
the portrait of the burgomaster’s wife. The neck and shoulders are
covered with fine white lawn, and the plain dress is only relieved by
deep bands of velvet, and a girdle from which is suspended a metal case
of chased work for a measure or “house-wife” at the end of a long band.
At least two ladies appear to have served Holbein as a model for these
studies. The “Frau Burgermeister,” Dorothea Kannengiesser, posed as the
Baseler “Burgersfrau,”[351] and perhaps as the “Edeldame,” while for the
remaining studies, among them that of the patrician dame with the
feather hat already described, a model of a more lovely and a more
wanton appearance served him, who later on was painted by him as “Laïs
Corinthiaca.” In a second drawing of the set the same lady appears in a
gown with puffed sleeves and deep velvet bands, embroidered petticoat
and head-dress, and wearing a number of ornaments round her neck,
including an openwork collar with the word “AMOR.”[352] The same model
appears in a third drawing (Pl. 51 (2)), in which she poses as a
waitress, or hostess, with a tall cylindrical beer-glass supported on
her right hand, while with the other she holds up her finely-pleated
apron.[353] She wears a large flat hat of unusual shape on the side of
her head, trimmed all round with bunches of feathers, and round her neck
is a gold collar of openwork with the initials “M.O.” repeated several
times. The “Amor” of the first-named collar or neckband was the
invention, in all probability, of the artist himself, by adding an A and
an R to the initials, M.O., of the lady’s name. These initials indicate
that Holbein’s sitter was Magdalena Offenburg, and the likeness between
these studies and the “Laïs” and “Venus” pictures is striking.[354] This
notorious personage, by birth a Tschekkenbürlin, and the mother of
Dorothea Offenburg, who at one time was regarded as the model of the
“Laïs,” married, on the death of Hans Offenburg in 1514, Christof
Truchsess von Wolhusen. She appears to have served as a model and to
have had relationships of a doubtful character with more than one
painter of Basel. There is a drawing of her by Urs Graf, dated 1516, to
which he has added an indecorous marginal note reflecting upon her
course of life.[355]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 51.


[Illustration:

  COSTUME STUDY
  Two drawings from a set of designs of Ladies’ Costumes
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Illustration:

  COSTUME STUDY
  Two drawings from a set of designs of Ladies’ Costumes
  BASEL GALLERY
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 52.


[Illustration:

  “THE EDELDAME”
  One of a set of designs of Ladies’ Costumes
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: COSTUMES WORN BY BASEL LADIES]

One use to which Holbein put such drawings as these is to be seen in the
“Dance of Death” woodcuts. In several of them in which women are
introduced, these costume studies are closely followed; for instance, in
the little picture of the newly-married couple, the wife’s dress is
almost identical with that in the first drawing of the “Baseler
Frauentrachten” series; and other dresses of the set are closely copied
in such cuts as “The Countess” and the “Arms of Death.” These drawings,
as already noted, show very plainly the peculiar carriage of the body in
walking which the ladies of Basel adopted in Holbein’s day, with the
back hollowed so that the lower part of the figure was thrust forward,
in a very ugly fashion to modern eyes, but no doubt necessary to some
extent owing to the length of the dress in front, which had always to be
held up by one hand.

There is a very beautiful costume study in the Library at Dessau,[356]
which is closely allied to the Basel series. It is an exceedingly
graceful rendering of a fair lady in an elaborate dress with long
hanging sleeves, and a close-fitting cap over her curled hair. The body
is slightly inclined, and with her right hand she holds up her dress,
and from the other, which is stretched out, hangs a bridle and harness.
There is much elegance and grace of movement in the figure, which
Holbein has set down with a light and flowing touch. It is doubtful what
character the model is intended to represent. Dr. Ganz calls her “Die
schöne Phyllis,” and, from the bridle she is holding, it is very
possible that Holbein intended her for that fair Phyllis who made the
learned Aristotle serve her as a horse; or she may represent Nemesis,
the driver of mankind, whom Holbein introduced into his Steelyard
wall-painting of “The Triumph of Riches,” flying through the sky with
somewhat similar attributes in her hands. Such a representation of
Nemesis or Fortune was not unusual, and occurs in more than one drawing
of the period. There is one in the Basel Gallery of “Frau Venus” by
Niklaus Manuel Deutsch, and Dürer also makes use of the bridle in his
“Great Fortune.”

The beautiful study of “St. Adrian” in the Louvre,[357] a pen and wash
drawing, touched with white, on grey paper, is probably the preliminary
design for the outer side of the shutter of an altar-piece, to be
carried out in grisaille. The saint is represented in full armour, with
a long cloak, holding the sword and anvil, symbols of his martyrdom, in
either hand, and a lion crouching at his feet. He stands on a stone
parapet, in front of which is an empty shield. The figure has much in
common with that of St. Ursus in the Solothurn Madonna picture, and
there is a still closer resemblance in face to the “St. George” in the
Karlsruhe panel, both of the year 1522. Holbein evidently made use of
the same model both for the “St. Adrian” and the “St. George,” for the
facial likeness is very close, and both wear the same bushy, curling
hair. It is, therefore, safe, following Dr. Ganz, to date the Louvre
drawing as of the same year, 1522. It was formerly catalogued as of the
North Italian School.

Holbein’s studies from the nude are so rare that the one of a young
woman in the Basel Gallery is of exceptional interest.[358] It is a pen
and wash drawing, touched with white in the high lights, on red paper.
With the exception of the “Christ in the Tomb,” and a single leaf of the
Basel “Sketch-Book,”[359] this nude woman is almost the only drawing of
the kind by him that is known. It appears to have been made merely as a
study of muscular movement, and not as a preliminary design for a
picture. The model is stepping forward from the side of a plain stone
pillar, a heavy stone held in either hand, the weight of which brings
the muscles of the arms into prominence. Her hair falls in long curls
down her back, the head is bent towards the right shoulder, and the eyes
are cast downwards, and the lips parted. Both in movement and in the
suggestion of the rounded softness of the figure the drawing is
admirable, and at the same time displays an Italian influence, recalling
similar studies by Raphael and Leonardo. Dr. Ganz places it among the
work of Holbein’s second English period.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 53.


[Illustration:

  A FIGHT BETWEEN LANDSKNECHTE
  _Drawing in Indian ink_
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: “A FIGHT OF LANDSKNECHTE”]

Holbein made use of the Swiss landsknechte for other purposes than that
of painted windows. One or two of his most masterly drawings depict
incidents in the lives of these men, whose picturesque dress and gay and
manly bearing made a strong appeal to him. The finest and most important
of them is the large study in the Basel Gallery representing a fierce
conflict between two considerable bodies of warriors (Pl. 53).[360] It
depicts the contemporary methods of warfare with the utmost vivacity and
close adherence to truth. It is, according to Dr. Ganz, a work of
Holbein’s last residence in Basel, probably made just before his return
to England in 1532. In the foreground of the fight two men are at close
quarters, one of whom, with sword whirling over his head, grips the hair
of his opponent, who is striking at his throat with a long dagger. On
either side of them two soldiers are forcing a space round them with
enormous pikes, while behind is a great crowd of shouting, panting, and
struggling men, whose lances, dashed in with a few hasty strokes, stand
out against the sky with an extraordinary effect both of number and
movement. In the hottest part of the fight one combatant uplifts a great
double-handed sword, while another protects his face with his raised
drum. Beneath their feet are many trampled bodies and shattered weapons.
The composition is a very fine one, and the draughtsmanship of
extraordinary vigour and vitality. One can almost hear the cries and
yells, and the clash of the arms, so completely has Holbein realised the
scene, and so vividly set it down on paper with rapid but unerring
pencil.[361]

It is impossible to give here even a list of his many drawings, of which
so large a number are in the Basel Gallery. In the Amerbach Collection
there is a sheet with studies of a recumbent lamb and a lamb’s
head,[362] both drawn with the utmost delicacy in silver-point and
slightly washed with water-colour, most faithful renderings of nature,
perhaps made as a preliminary study for some picture of the youthful St.
John; and a second sheet with a drawing of the underside of a bat with
outstretched wings,[363] carried out with the same minute care, the red
veins, which show through the transparent membranes of the wings, being
put in with water-colour. In the same collection there are numerous
designs for jewellery, dagger-sheaths, cups and other vessels, for the
use of silversmiths and metal-workers; but as much of Holbein’s best
work of this kind was produced in England, discussion of them may be
reserved until a later chapter dealing with his designs for the London
goldsmiths.


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                              CHAPTER VIII

                  PORTRAITS OF ERASMUS AND HIS CIRCLE

Portraits of Erasmus and Ægidius by Quentin Metsys—Copy of the “Erasmus”
  at Hampton Court and the original in Rome—Portraits of Erasmus by
  Holbein sent to London—The Longford Castle “Erasmus” and copies of
  it—The Louvre portrait, and the study for it at Basel—Holbein’s
  journey to the South of France—Drawings of the sepulchral effigies of
  the Duke and Duchess of Berry—The Greystoke portrait and the version
  at Parma—The Basel roundel—Woodcut portraits of Erasmus—Portraits of
  Froben—Melanchthon—Holbein’s drawing of himself at Basel.


THE portraits painted by Holbein prior to his departure from Basel to
England were not numerous, even when allowance is made for the probable
disappearance or destruction of several of which no trace now remains.
There are less than a dozen in all, even when the three different
versions of Erasmus are included. The Burgomaster Meyer and his wife,
Benedikt von Hertenstein, Amerbach, Froben, Erasmus, and his own
portrait almost complete the list, to which may be added the two
versions of Magdalena Offenburg as “Venus” and as “Lais,” and the
portrait at the Hague now said to represent his wife shortly after he
married her. Considering the mastery he had already displayed in this
branch of art, it is extraordinary that he did not receive more
commissions for portraits from his fellow-citizens. He found a good
patron in Erasmus, however, who was always ready to sit for his
likeness. He was painted by several well-known artists, and employed
Holbein on more than one occasion. He presented several of these
portraits to friends and supporters in England and elsewhere, and as he
had many admirers who were anxious to possess one, Holbein’s original
pictures of him were copied a number of times both during the
philosopher’s lifetime and afterwards.

Although Erasmus paid his first visit to Basel in 1513 for the purpose
of making the acquaintance of Froben, who was about to publish several
of his works, including his edition of the New Testament, and renewed
this visit on several occasions, sometimes remaining there for months at
a time, he did not make the city his permanent home until 1521. Both
during these earlier visits and after he had settled in Basel, he made
Froben’s home his own. This house, “zum Sessel,” was in the Fischmarkt,
but after Froben’s death in 1526, Erasmus moved to the house of Froben’s
son, “zum Luft,” now No. 18 in the Bäumleingasse, and it was in this
latter house that he died in 1536. He was attracted by the freedom and
independence of the life within the city, and the opportunities it
afforded both for quiet study and daily intercourse with many learned
men, and also by the number and fame of its printers and their presses.

[Sidenote: PORTRAITS OF ERASMUS AND ÆGIDIUS]

The earliest portrait of Erasmus of which we have a record is the one
painted by Quentin Metsys in Antwerp in 1517, which formed the left-hand
side of a double portrait or diptych, of which the other half contained
the portrait of Peter Ægidius, the learned traveller, and town-clerk of
Antwerp,[364] to whom the _Utopia_ was dedicated, and whose garden was
selected by More as the scene in which Raphael Hythlodæus told the
imaginary story of that island city. It was painted as a joint-gift from
Erasmus and Ægidius to Sir Thomas, and the two portraits were hinged
together, and sent over to England. Several letters in the
correspondence of More and Erasmus have reference to this present. The
painting was delayed in the first place by the serious illness of Peter,
and then by indisposition on the part of Erasmus. “I was well enough,”
Erasmus tells More, “but some fool of a doctor prescribed for me a
couple of pills for purging my bile, and I, still more foolishly,
followed his advice; my picture had been previously begun, but, from the
physic I took, when I came back to the painter, he declared that my
features were not the same, so that his work is delayed for a few days
until I become more alive.” The portraits were finished by the 16th of
September 1517, and sent to More, who was then at Calais, in charge of
Erasmus’ “famulus,” Peter Cocles. More’s letter of thanks, dated October
6th, expressed the greatest delight with the gift, and contained a Latin
poem in honour of the portraits, in which they were both minutely
described. In a postscript he spoke in admiration of the way in which
Quentin had imitated his (More’s) handwriting on the letter which Peter
holds in his hand.

These two portraits no longer hang together, and until quite recently
all traces of the “Erasmus” had been lost. The “Ægidius” is now in
Longford Castle, in the possession of Lord Radnor, and with it hangs a
portrait of Erasmus; but the latter is not by Metsys, but by Holbein. At
what period the original pair were parted is not known, but the two in
Longford Castle were purchased at Dr. Meade’s sale in 1754, the first
Lord Folkestone giving 105 guineas for the “Erasmus,” which was rightly
sold as by Holbein, and 91 guineas for the “Ægidius,” also described as
by the same painter; and for many years both portraits were regarded as
the work of Holbein. Dr. Meade placed Latin inscriptions on the frames,
in which the names of Erasmus, Ægidius, and Holbein were joined
together. In more recent years the authorship of the “Ægidius” has been
rightly ascribed to Metsys, while Holbein’s signature, and the date 1523
on the “Erasmus” prove conclusively that it is not the original
companion-half of the diptych painted in Antwerp in 1517, further proof
of this being afforded by the fact that both subjects are represented
looking to the spectator’s left, instead of towards one another, and
that the “Erasmus” is painted on a considerably larger scale than the
other, which would not have been the case had the portraits been
intended as a pair. The matter was finally cleared up by the late Mr.
John Gough Nichols.[365] Ægidius[366] is represented in a fur coat,
holding in his left hand a letter addressed to himself in the
handwriting of Sir Thomas More,[367] and his right touching a book which
is inscribed “Antibarbaroi” in Greek capitals. An ivory sand-castor and
a gold cup and cover are on one of the shelves at the back, which are
covered with books. There is a replica of it in the Antwerp Museum,
which differs slightly in a few of the details, and is either a fine
contemporary copy or from the hand of Metsys himself, though until quite
recently it was still officially described as a portrait of Erasmus by
Holbein.[368]

[Sidenote: THE “ERASMUS WRITING”]

Until a year or two ago all traces of the original “Erasmus” by Metsys
had disappeared, but Herman Grimm, Woltmann, and H. Hymans all
identified a picture at Hampton Court as a reduced copy of the original.
This is the “Erasmus Writing” (No. 594-331), a small half-length, turned
to the right, but with both eyes seen. He is writing in a book which
lies on a desk in front of him. Other books are on a shelf at the back,
with the titles inscribed on the edges of the leaves, all of them works
by Erasmus published before 1517. Mr. Ernest Law[369] suggests that it
is identical with the picture in Charles I’s catalogue described as
“Some schollar without a beard, in a black habit and a black cap,
looking downwards upon a letter which he holds in both hands, being
side-faced, less than life; which was sent to the King by his Majesty’s
sister, by Mr. Chancellor, Sir Henry Vane, Lord Ambassador from the King
to the King of Sweden, painted upon the right light—done by Cornelius
Vischer.” The poorness of the execution, the indistinctness of the
lettering on the books, and the utter gibberish of the words which
Erasmus is writing, betray the hand of some ignorant copyist, though
enough of the wording can be traced to show that the philosopher is
engaged in setting down the title and first words of his commentary on
St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans, which was begun in 1517.[370] There is
a second copy of this portrait in the Amsterdam Museum; and in the 1904
edition of the Amsterdam Catalogue (p. 200), a third example was first
described, which is now generally regarded as the work of Metsys himself
and the missing half of the diptych. It is in Rome, until recently in
the collection of the late Count Stroganoff, and was in the possession
of Count Alexander Stroganoff as early as 1807. It is slightly smaller
than the “Ægidius” at Longford Castle, but has evidently been cut down,
as the height of the heads as seen against the shelves at the back is
the same in both pictures. Metsys represented the two friends as though
seated in a single chamber. Erasmus is placed on the left, facing the
right, and engaged in writing, and Ægidius is on the other side of the
room, looking up with More’s letter in his hand, and pushing forward his
own book of travels as though about to present it to the Englishman. The
same bookshelves run across the background in both portraits.[371] The
picture has been recently presented by Count Stroganoff’s heirs to the
Corsini Gallery in Rome.

Three or four years later Erasmus’ likeness was taken by Albrecht Dürer,
who met him during his tour in the Netherlands in July 1520. Dürer
appears to have made two drawings[372] of him at this time, and some
years afterwards, in 1526, he engraved his head from memory, with the
aid of one of these two studies. This engraving[373] by no means equals
Holbein’s several portraits of the scholar, either as a likeness, or in
its subtle expression of character. Erasmus, writing to Pirkheimer, said
that it was not at all like him, but that this was not surprising, as he
had greatly changed in five years.

[Sidenote: THE “ERASMUS AND FROBEN” DIPTYCH]

There is no direct evidence to prove that Holbein painted any portrait
of Erasmus before the year 1523, though it is very possible that he did
so. Perhaps the earliest may be the one mentioned by Remigius Faesch,
who infers, in his manuscript life of the painter, that Holbein once
painted a double picture of the friends Erasmus and Froben.[374] It is
said that after the sudden death of the latter in 1527, from injuries
caused by a fall on the pavement, Erasmus obtained the two portraits,
and had them hinged together, as a perpetual memorial of their great
friendship. After the death of Erasmus in 1536 this diptych remained in
Basel for nearly a century, and was then bought, about the year 1625, by
Michel Le Blond, the well-known collector of works of art, for one
hundred golden ducats, and shortly afterwards sold by him to the Duke of
Buckingham. The Duke afterwards gave the panels to Charles I. On the
back of the “Froben” portrait at Hampton Court there is pasted a piece
of paper inscribed—“This picture of Frobonus was delivered to his M^t.
by ye Duke of Buckingham [before he went to the] Isle of Ree,” the five
words in brackets being now illegible. In King Charles’ Catalogue they
are entered as, “The picture of Frobonius, with his printing tools by
him, being Erasmus of Rotterdam’s printer and landlord at Basil. Done by
Holbein”; and, “The picture of Erasmus of Rotterdam, in a high black
frame; done by Holben, fellow to the aforesaid piece of Frobenius,
painted upon the right light.” They were sold separately, after the
King’s execution, by order of the Commonwealth, and fetched larger
prices than almost any other pictures from the royal collection. They
were valued at £100 each, and at that price were purchased by Mr.
Milburne and Colonel Hutchinson respectively. They were returned to the
royal collection at the Restoration, and in 1672 Patin saw them hinged
together as they had been in earlier days. They are now in Hampton
Court.

While in the possession of Charles I, or more probably Le Blond,[375]
these two portraits were “restored,” and by no means improved. Four
inches were added to the top of the “Frobenius” in order to make it a
pendant to the “Erasmus,” and the backgrounds were repainted and altered
by Von Steenwyck. The original background of the “Frobenius” was either
plain or a simple room with a window, but has been changed to a lofty
apartment with pillars and a paved floor, part of the original
blue-green ground being left behind the head; in the “Erasmus” it has
been turned into an elaborate arrangement of stone pillars and arches,
resembling the gloomy interior of a church. Walpole states that Von
Steenwyck’s name and the date 1629 are on the “Frobenius,” but this
inscription cannot now be discovered. The latter is by far the finer
work of the two.

The portrait of Froben, which most modern critics do not admit to be an
original work, is described below. The companion portrait of Erasmus—No.
597 (324)—is certainly only a copy, and not a very good copy, of some
original by Holbein, possibly the Longford “Erasmus,” to which it bears
a close resemblance. It was accepted by Wornum as a genuine work of the
early Basel period,[376] but modern criticism is unanimous in condemning
its authenticity. Its only claim, and a very slight one, to genuineness
is that it was formerly hinged to the portrait of Froben; but Mr. Ernest
Law[377] throws doubt on the story that Erasmus himself had the two
joined together, which he regards as a myth, and suggests that the
joining was done by some picture-dealer in Basel after Erasmus’ death,
or by Le Blond himself when he purchased them. In the Hampton Court
picture[378] the scholar is represented at half-length, less than life,
turned slightly to the left. He is dressed in the usual black coat
trimmed with fur, and a black cap. The hands, excellently drawn, rest on
a closed red-bound book in front of him. The original plain background,
as already stated, has been elaborated and spoilt by Von Steenwyck. It
is probable that the double portrait spoken of by Faesch, of which he
had a copy, was not the original work of Holbein, and in that case the
supposition, based on his manuscript, that at some unknown period in the
history of the diptych the “Erasmus” was removed, and a copy substituted
for it, is equally incorrect.[379]

Most possibly the picture now at Hampton Court was the one actually
purchased by Le Blond in Basel, to whom it would be sold as a genuine
work by Holbein. A still less probable supposition is that a change took
place after the sale of the royal collection in 1650, when the picture
was in the possession of Mr. Milburne, who, it is suggested, at the
Restoration returned a copy in place of the original.

[Sidenote: PORTRAITS OF ERASMUS]

The first portraits of Erasmus by Holbein to which a date can be given
are the Longford Castle example and the profile likeness in the Louvre,
both of which were painted in 1523, probably towards the end of that
year, when the artist was about twenty-six; and it is generally agreed
that these are the two which were sent to England by Erasmus in 1524. In
a letter to his friend Wilibald Pirkheimer at Nuremberg, dated June 3rd
of that year, Erasmus says: “Only recently I have again sent two
portraits of me to England, painted by a not unskilful artist. He has
also taken a portrait of me to France.” That the painter to whom Erasmus
refers was Holbein is proved by a passage in Beatus Rhenanus’
_Emendations of Pliny_, published by Froben in March 1526, and written
in the previous year. In speaking of the most celebrated German painters
of the day, he mentions Dürer in Nuremberg, Hans Baldung in Strasburg,
and Lucas Cranach in Saxony, and concludes with Hans Holbein in
Switzerland, “born in Augsburg, but for a long time a burgher of Basel,
who last year painted, most successfully and finely, two portraits of
our Erasmus of Rotterdam, which he afterwards sent into England.”[380]
One of the two sent to England was a present to William Warham,
Archbishop of Canterbury, whose yearly pension to Erasmus was increased
about this time. The latter wrote to Warham on September 4, 1524: “I
hope that the portrait painted of me, which I sent to you, has reached
you, so that you may have somewhat of Erasmus should God call me hence.”
It is not known for whom the second portrait was intended. No reference
to it is to be found in the numerous letters despatched to England by
Erasmus in that year, addressed, among others, to Fisher, Tunstall,
Wolsey, and the King himself. It was not, apparently, meant for Sir
Thomas More, for he already possessed the portrait of his friend by
Metsys, and it is not very probable that Erasmus would send him a
second. Nor does More speak of it in his letters to Basel, although he
is certain to have done so had he received so valuable a gift, for he
was lavish in his praise and his thanks for the Metsys portrait in 1517.
It has been generally supposed that the well-known letter from More to
Erasmus, in which he speaks of Holbein as a wonderful artist, affords
proof that Sir Thomas had seen one or both of these two portraits, and
that it was of them he was speaking when he praised the painter’s skill.
The date of this letter is given as December 18, 1525, in the published
works of Erasmus, but Herman Grimm showed that it was incorrect, and
altered the year-date to 1524, in which Woltmann followed him. This,
however, is also an error. The real date of the letter is 1526, as is
proved by the literary work of Erasmus mentioned in it; and it has,
therefore, nothing to do with the two portraits sent over in 1524, but
was written shortly after Holbein’s arrival in London, when More had
made his personal acquaintance.[381]

It is impossible to say which of the two portraits of 1523 is the
earlier in date. No doubt the preliminary drawings for both were made in
the little room or study in which the scholar sat daily at work upon his
own writings, or supervising the publication and correcting the proofs
of other volumes issued by Froben, for whom he was then acting as a kind
of editor-in-chief. In the Longford Castle example (Pl. 54)[382] Holbein
has shown his sitter to the waist, turned to the left, the face seen in
three-quarters. He is wearing his invariable dress of black lined with
sable, and over it a dark cloak trimmed with black fur, and a black
doctor’s cap over his grey hair. He gazes in front of him, with a
half-smile in his blue eyes and on his fine, sensitive mouth. His hands
rest on a red book placed on the table before him, on the gilt edges of
which is inscribed, partly in Greek and partly in Latin characters,
“ἩΡΑΚΛΕΙΟΙ ΠΟΝΟΙ ERASMI ROTERO—” (The Herculean labours of Erasmus of
Rotterdam)—the end of the last word being hidden by the sable cuff of
the cloak. The background shows on the left a flat, richly-ornamented
pillar and capital of Renaissance design, and on the right a green
curtain hung from a rod by rings, partly drawn aside, and revealing a
shelf on which are three books and a glass water-bottle. On the cover of
the book which leans against the latter is the date “MDXXIII.,” and on
the edge of the same volume is a damaged couplet in Latin, now partly
defaced, which J. Mähly, after supplying several missing words, read as
follows:—

            “Ille ego Joannes Holbein, en, non facile ullus.
             Tam mihi mimus erit quam mihi momus erat.”[383]

These lines, no doubt, were composed by Erasmus himself in praise of the
artist. Traces of further inscriptions, now undecipherable, are to be
seen on the edges of the other books. This work shows an extraordinary
advance in Holbein’s powers as a portrait-painter when compared with
even so fine a work as the “Bonifacius Amerbach,” painted four years
earlier. The modelling of both head and hands is searching in its truth,
and he rarely accomplished anything more perfect in the subtlety of its
delineation of character, and in a realism without exaggeration or
hardness of detail. We see the “little old man,” as Dürer described him
when he met him in Brussels some years earlier, just as he was in
reality, the marks of age on his strongly-lined face, and about the eyes
something of the tired look of the scholar and bookman, but the face
still stamped with mental energy, and a calm, tolerant, and dignified
outlook on life. A faint smile lights up his features, as though
satisfied both with his own accomplished work and with the world in
which he was living. For penetrating insight, indeed, this portrait is
almost unsurpassed. It shows that side of the character of Erasmus which
is displayed in his familiar letters to friends, in his _Praise of
Folly_, and his _Colloquies_, a gentle, genial sense of humour which
sweetened his intercourse with his fellows.[384] A sheet in the Print
Room of the Louvre contains a slight, almost obliterated, study for the
head in this picture, but full face, and a masterly drawing for the
right hand, full of character;[385] a second contains two studies of the
left hand, and one of the right hand holding the pen in the Louvre
portrait (Pl. 55).[386] In the catalogue of the Meade sale it was stated
that the picture had been at one time in the Arundel Collection.[387]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 54.


[Illustration:

  ERASMUS
  1523
  _From the picture in the collection of the Earl of Radnor at Longford
    Castle_
]

[Sidenote: THE LONGFORD CASTLE “ERASMUS”]

This version of Erasmus was repeated and copied more than once, with
slight modifications, during the lifetime of the sitter as well as after
his death. Such versions are to be found at Turin, Vienna, and
elsewhere, the best of which is the one in the collection of Mr. Walter
Gay, in Paris;[388] while there are others, less closely following the
original, such as the “Erasmus” at Hampton Court already described,
which forms a pendant to the “Frobenius.” There is a fine portrait of
Erasmus in Windsor Castle by George Pencz[389] of Nuremberg, a pupil of
Dürer’s, which is evidently based on the Longford Castle picture, or a
good copy of it,[390] which bears the artist’s initials and the date
1537, so that it was painted the year after the scholar’s death. It has
a plain green background, on which the shadow of the head is cast, and
part only of the clasped hands are shown. The dress closely resembles
that worn by Erasmus in the Longford Castle picture. This portrait,
though it lacks much of the character of the original which inspired it,
reproduces many of its small details, including the peculiar patch of
darkened skin between the left cheek-bone and the ear, which is to be
seen in almost all Holbein’s portraits of him.[391] It was bought by the
Duke of Hamilton in Nuremberg and presented by him to Charles I in 1652.
It was No. 13 in Van der Doort’s Catalogue of that King’s collections.
Everything indicates that the original picture of which this is a
version was in England in 1537; but as there is no record of any visit
paid to this country by Pencz, he must have worked, not from the
Longford original, but from one of the variants painted about 1530,
after Holbein’s return to Basel from England.

The portrait in the Louvre (Pl. 56)[392] is smaller than the Longford
Castle picture. Erasmus is shown in profile to the left, about
two-thirds the size of life, seated at a table, writing, his eyes cast
down on the paper, which he holds in position with his left hand upon a
book he is using as a writing-desk. In his right[393] is a reed pen. His
dress is the same as in Lord Radnor’s picture, and his black cap almost
conceals his grey hair. In the background on the left is a damask
curtain of dark bluish green, with a pattern of trees and lions in sage
green, and powdered with small red and white flowers; and, on the right,
some wooden panelling. The inscription on the paper he holds is now
quite illegible, but in the study for the picture, in the Basel Gallery,
it is still to be plainly read, and shows that the scholar is setting
down the title of the work upon which he was engaged at the time he was
sitting to Holbein. It runs—

                  “In Evangelium Marci paraphrasis per
                   D. Erasmum Roterodamium aucto[rem]
                   Cunctis mortalibus ins[itum est].”

This is the heading of his paraphrase of the Gospel of St. Mark, upon
which he was at work in 1523, and gives the date of the picture. The
inscription on the Louvre portrait was undoubtedly the same.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 55.


[Illustration:

  STUDY FOR THE HANDS OF ERASMUS
  _Drawing in silver-point and red and black chalk_
  LOUVRE, PARIS
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 56.


[Illustration:

  ERASMUS
  1523
  LOUVRE, PARIS
]

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF ERASMUS IN THE LOUVRE]

This portrait, like the one in Longford Castle, is painted with the
utmost perfection, in dark but warm tones; it almost surpasses the other
both in colouring and in its mastery of expression. The features are
firmly set, the sitter’s thoughts entirely concentrated on his work, so
that he is oblivious to all else but the matter in hand. The drawing of
the hands is masterly. The complexion is warm and healthy, and the
eyebrows, unlike the hair, locks of which straggle below the cap, have
not yet turned grey. This picture was once in the possession of the
Newton family. On the back of the pine panel on which it is painted is
pasted a paper memorandum, now partly destroyed, which runs: “Of
Holbein, this ... of Erasmus Rotterdamus was given to ... Prince by Jos.
Adam Newton.” In addition there is a red seal with the Newton arms and
their motto, “Vivit post funera virtus,” as well as the brand of Charles
I (C. R. surmounted by a crown), and of the French royal collection (M.
R.—_i.e._ Musée Royal—also below a crown). King Charles afterwards
exchanged this picture and a “Holy Family” by Titian with Louis XIII for
Leonardo’s “St. John the Baptist,” through the medium of the French
Ambassador, the Duc de Liancourt. After Charles’s execution the Leonardo
returned to the French royal collections, being purchased at the sale by
the French banker Jabach for £140, and presented by him to Louis XIV. In
the catalogue of the Louvre by MM. Lafenestre and Richtenberger it is
stated that the “Erasmus” was “painted for Sir Thomas More,” but this is
mere conjecture, and probably not correct. It was engraved by François
Dequevauvillers for the “Galerie du Musée Napoléon,” and etched by Félix
Bracquemond about 1860. A facsimile of the first state of this fine
plate was reproduced in the _Gazette des Beaux-Arts_[394] shortly after
the etcher’s death.

The original study for the Louvre portrait, in the Basel Gallery (No.
319),[395] is painted in oil on paper, afterwards fastened down on
panel. With the exception of a plain background, and some slight
differences in the costume, it agrees in all points with the more
elaborately finished picture. Erasmus is using a book bound in red as a
writing-desk, which rests upon a second volume. The tablecloth is green.
His upper lip shows several days’ growth of iron-grey hair. Although not
so fine in execution, it is nevertheless a remarkable and lifelike
study. The present plain green background, however, is not original. It
had at one time a patterned tapestry hanging behind the figure, as can
be seen in the woodcut taken from it by Rudolf Manuel in the Latin
edition of Sebastian Münster’s _Cosmography_, published in 1550, which
has an inscription beneath it referring to the portrait in terms of high
praise, and stating that Holbein painted it from life.[396] It is
described in the Amerbach inventory as “Ein Erasmus mit olfärb vf papir
in eim ghüs H. Holbeins arbeit,” and it appears to have belonged to
Bonifacius almost from the day it was painted. All evidence points to
this oil-study being the third portrait mentioned by Erasmus in his
letter to Pirkheimer of the 3rd June, 1524, which was taken by the
painter into France. Bonifacius Amerbach was absent in that country,
studying law at Avignon under Alciat, and afterwards at the University
of Montpellier, for two years, from May 1522 to May 1524.[397] In his
absence Erasmus sent him his own portrait as a present, and by the hands
of the artist who painted it. If the date of the letter to Pirkheimer is
correct, Holbein must have paid his visit to the South of France in the
early spring of 1524. The letter to Pirkheimer, written in the beginning
of June, states that the pictures had been sent to England and France
“recently,” but, according to Woltmann, Amerbach was back again in Basel
in May, before the date of the letter, so that the sequence of events
becomes a little confused. It is, of course, possible that Amerbach
received the portrait on the eve of his departure from Montpellier, and
that he may even have made the journey home in Holbein’s company; while
Erasmus may not have troubled himself to inform his correspondent that
the portrait sent into France was already back again in Basel.

[Sidenote: VISIT TO THE SOUTH OF FRANCE]

Nothing is known of this journey undertaken by Holbein, but it is not at
all likely that he set out solely as the messenger of Erasmus, for the
set purpose of delivering the portrait to Amerbach. It is much more
probable that the desire for travel was still strong in him, and that
the spirit of adventure, combined with the wish to discover fresh fields
for the practice of his art, may have sent him forth as a wanderer
again. In this connection, Dr. Ganz points out the somewhat strange
coincidence that at this very time, the 19th April 1524, his patron,
Jakob Meyer, set out from Basel for Lyon, with a band of two hundred
men, in order to join the French expedition about to proceed against
Milan.[398] Holbein may have seized the opportunity of travelling with
him, not necessarily as a fighting man, but for the sake of company on
his journey. The route followed was probably through Besançon, Dijon,
Beaune, Macon, Lyon, and down the Rhône to Avignon, Nimes, and
Montpellier. In these cities he would see many fine examples of French
Renaissance architecture, the influence of which, as already pointed
out, can be detected in certain of his designs for glass-painting; and
it is highly probable, also, that he must have had opportunities of
studying to some extent the work of the Clouets and their school, with
whose art, both in point of view and technique, his own had certain
features in common, and that their portraits, with their enamel-like
surfaces, and more particularly their lifelike and elegant
portrait-studies in coloured chalks, must have made a considerable
impression upon him.[399] Beyond such influences as these, to be seen in
his later work, there is nothing to indicate such a journey, nor, if it
were actually taken, for how long he was absent from Basel.[400] The
scarcity of dated works between 1523 and 1526 may suggest a lengthy
absence abroad, but this is more than counterbalanced by the fact that,
with the exception of a couple of drawings, there is nothing from his
hand, either portrait, or church picture, or wall decoration, so far
discovered, which can be shown to have been carried out in France. It is
possible, though not probable, that the greater number of the “Dance of
Death” woodcuts, which were first published in 1538 at Lyon, were
finished by 1523, and that Holbein, during his stay in that city, may
have made arrangements with the Trechsels for their publication; but
there is nothing to show that this was the objective of his journey.
Moreover, everything seems to indicate that Holbein merely supplied the
designs for these woodcuts to the engraver Lützelburger, and had no
further monetary interest in them or their publication in which case his
visit to Lyon need not necessarily have had anything to do with
them.[401]

The two drawings to which reference has been made are in the Basel
Collection, and are studies of two life-size sepulchral effigies of the
early fifteenth century, in the cathedral of Bourges, representing the
Duke Jehan de Berry, who died in 1416, and his wife, kneeling with hands
clasped in prayer. In Holbein’s day the monument was still in its
original position in the private chapel of the Dukes of Berry,
afterwards pulled down, when the figures were removed to the ambulatory
of the choir. Other parts of the monument are now in the local museum.
Holbein’s masterly touch has vivified the somewhat stiff and formal
attitudes of these kneeling figures, in which, however, can be seen the
beginnings of that realism and individuality which formed so marked a
characteristic of the work of a later period of sculpture. These two
fine drawings,[402] of which that of the Duchess (Pl. 57)[403] is the
more beautiful, have almost the appearance of being studies from life
instead of mere transcripts from the stone, and this effect is
heightened by the skilful use the artist has made of touches of red and
yellow crayons to his black chalk drawings. The sharp features of the
Duchess, with high forehead and pointed nose, seen in profile, are full
of expression. She wears the costume of the early fifteenth century,
with a high ruff and heavy gold necklace, her golden hair enclosed in a
fine net, and surmounted by a diadem set with square stones and jewels.
It is now only possible to compare Holbein’s truth of likeness to the
original in the case of the statue of the Duke, for in that of the
Duchess the head was broken off during the French Revolution, and was
replaced by another some forty years later, lacking all expression, and
with a royal crown instead of the ducal diadem.

These two studies, however, cannot have been made during Holbein’s visit
to Southern France in 1524; the draughtsmanship of them points to a
later period, when his art had reached its greatest pitch of perfection.
The position of Bourges, too, in the very centre of France, was far
distant from the route he would take to reach Montpellier. Nor can they
be connected with his first journey to England in 1526, for on that
occasion he passed through Antwerp, his direct route being down the
Rhine; and he made use, no doubt, of the same waterway on his return to
Basel in 1528. In all probability the visit to Bourges took place in
1538. In the late summer of that year Holbein went with Philip Hoby to
Joinville and Nancy on Henry VIII’s business,[404] and took the
opportunity of paying a visit of a few weeks’ duration to his family and
old friends in Basel. On his return to England he is supposed to have
taken his eldest son with him as far as Paris, where he apprenticed him
to the goldsmith Jakob David, and from Switzerland Bourges would be on
the route to the capital of France.[405]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 57.


[Illustration:

  THE DUCHESS OF BERRY
  _Drawing in black and coloured chalks_
  BASEL GALLERY
]

After Holbein’s return to Switzerland from England in 1528 he painted
Erasmus again. A number of versions of this third type exist, of which
the finest are the small Greystoke portrait, which in 1909 passed into
the collection of the late Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan, and the small roundel
in the Basel Gallery. One of the versions, in the Parma Gallery, bears
the date 1530. Erasmus had retired to Freiburg with Amerbach in 1528 in
order to avoid the iconoclastic disturbances in Basel, and he must have
given Holbein a sitting, most probably in that town, between 1528 and
1530. These later portraits closely follow the Longford Castle type as
regards the pose and the position of the head, three-quarters face to
the spectator’s left, and the details of the dress; but the sitter
appears considerably older, and in every instance the background is a
plain one.

[Sidenote: THE GREYSTOKE PORTRAIT OF ERASMUS]

The Greystoke picture[406] has every appearance of being a work from
Holbein’s own brush. The masterly modelling, the fine and subtle
draughtsmanship, the wonderful expression of the mouth and the still
keen and brilliant eyes, are too good and too true to life to be the
work of a mere copyist. The cheeks are more sunken and the face more
heavily lined than in the portraits of 1523. The eyebrows are still
dark, but the hair which straggles from below the black cap is white,
and is drawn with all the minute care and delicacy with which Holbein
always portrayed it in his portraits, and the stubble of a beard of a
few days’ growth is also indicated with the touch of a master. The
hands, resting on a narrow ledge in front of him, and half concealed by
the deep fur cuffs of his gown, are not so good, and are much less
expressive than was usual with Holbein. The picture is in a fine state
of preservation, and the colour scheme is rich and harmonious, though
the plain blue background has turned to a greenish hue in the course of
time. Upon it, to the left of the head, is a small white label, with the
inscription, “Erasmus Roterodamus,” which appears to be fastened to the
wall with red wafers and a pin, like the label in the portrait of the
Duchess of Milan. According to Sir Sidney Colvin,[407] both labels were
probably the work of the same hand, and are of later date than the
paintings. He suggests that the inscription on the “Erasmus” portrait
was added to it when it was in the Arundel Collection.

On the back of the panel is an interesting inscription, written,
according to the same authority, in a hand of not later date than
1530-50. It runs as follows:—

                    “Haunce Holbein me fecit
                     Johanne[s] Noryce me dedit
                     Edwardus Banyster me possidit.”

John Norris, or Noryce—the name was spelt in various other ways—was one
of the minor officials of Henry VIII’s court, filling the part of
gentleman usher, which he afterwards held under Edward VI and Queen
Mary, dying in 1564 as chief usher of the Privy Chamber to the latter
queen. Among other offices which he obtained was that of Controller of
Windsor Castle. He was son and heir of Sir Edward Norris of Bray and
Yattendon in Berkshire, and elder brother of that ill-fated Henry
Norris, one of Henry’s close companions, who was involved in the tragic
fate of Anne Boleyn. The inscription shows that at some time, probably
during Holbein’s life, John Norris owned this portrait of Erasmus, and
that he presented it to a friend named Edward Banister. According to Sir
Sidney Colvin’s researches, this Banister was also employed about the
Court. In 1526 he appears as a gentleman usher out of wages for the
county of Hants, and in 1539 he was one of the representatives of the
same county appointed to receive Anne of Cleves at Calais and escort her
to England. The inscription on the picture was probably written by
Banister himself.

This portrait may have been the one in the possession of John, Lord
Lumley, son-in-law of Henry Fitzalan, twelfth and last Earl of Arundel
of that creation. In the Lumley inventory of 1590 it is described as “Of
Erasmus of Roterdame, drawne by Haunce Holbyn.” Among his other
portraits by Holbein, Lord Lumley also possessed the full-length of the
Duchess of Milan, and it is most probable that the label with the
inscription was added to both portraits when in his collection. The
“Erasmus” was afterwards in the famous collection of Thomas Howard, the
great Earl of Arundel, from which it passed by bequest of Alathea,
Countess of Arundel, to her grandson, Charles Howard, into that of the
Greystoke branch of the Howard family, where it remained, at their seat
in Cumberland, until its recent purchase by Mr. Morgan. The Earl of
Arundel possessed two portraits of Erasmus by Holbein,[408] the second
being the Longford Castle picture. While in this collection the
Greystoke version was engraved by Lucas Vorsterman, a very excellent
print, undated, in which the figure is in reverse of the picture.[409]
It was engraved again, when in the same collection, by Andreas Stock,
the plate being dated from the Hague, 1628. In this engraving the
position is the same as in the portrait, which suggests that Stock
merely copied from Vorsterman, and not from the picture itself. In the
inscription at the foot of Stock’s engraving it is stated that the
portrait from which it was taken was the one which Erasmus himself told
Sir Thomas More he very greatly preferred to the one of him by Albrecht
Dürer; but the statement appears to have no real foundation in fact.
Whether the portrait was sent to England by Erasmus in charge of Holbein
when he returned to England in 1532, as a present to some friend or
admirer, or whether the artist brought it over in the ordinary way of
his business, it is now impossible to say. It is now in the Metropolitan
Museum, New York.

[Sidenote: PARMA PORTRAIT OF ERASMUS]

The Greystoke portrait closely resembles the Parma picture, which is
regarded by most critics as an original work, though to the present
writer it appears to be no more than a fine contemporary copy or
adaptation of Mr. Morgan’s picture or the Basel roundel. The Parma
example,[410] in which Erasmus is shown with his hands holding open one
of his own books, has the date 1530 on the plain background, two figures
on either side of the head.[411] Documentary evidence[412] exists,
showing that Holbein had painted one or more portraits of Erasmus at
this period. One of them was in the possession of Goelenius, professor
at Louvain, and in 1531 Johannes Dantiscus, Bishop of Kulm, and
afterwards of Ermeland, was anxious to obtain a copy of it, and wrote
asking to have this done for him by a painter of Malines. Goelenius, in
reply, sent to his friend the original portrait as a gift. The Bishop,
however, not to be outdone in generosity, returned the present, at the
same time saying that the portrait was an earlier one than he had
supposed, and that he wanted one of a more recent date. In answer to
this Goelenius wrote that fortunately he was on terms of such close
friendship with Holbein that he could get him to do anything he wished,
and would procure from him a portrait of Erasmus which he had quite
recently painted. Some portrait, whether an original or only a copy, was
eventually sent, and it has been suggested that it was the portrait now
in the Parma Gallery. When Dantiscus became Bishop of Ermeland, he
would, in all probability, take the portrait with him; and this district
was afterwards devastated by the Swedes during the Thirty Years’ War,
and many of the art treasures of the province carried to Sweden. Some of
these spoils of war became the property of Queen Christina, who took
them with her to Italy, where she lived in later life, and among the
works so taken, it is conjectured, may well have been the Erasmus
portrait now at Parma.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 58.


[Illustration:

  1. ERASMUS
  Roundel
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Illustration:

  2. PHILIP MELANCHTHON
  Roundel
  PROVINZIAL MUSEUM, HANOVER
]

The little roundel in the Basel Gallery (No. 324) (Pl. 58 (1)),[413]
which is about four inches in diameter, forms part of the Amerbach
Collection, and, no doubt, came into the possession of Bonifacius on the
death of Erasmus. It agrees in all respects with the Greystoke portrait,
though only the head and shoulders are shown, and it is not quite so
masterly in its execution. It is very possibly the original study made
by Holbein in Freiburg, upon which the Greystoke and other portraits
were based. It has a plain blue-green background, and is perhaps not
quite in its original state. There is a third “Erasmus” at Basel, the
small panel in the Faesch Collection (No. 356),[414] a good old copy of
the roundel in the Amerbach Collection. All three are mentioned by
Patin. It would serve no useful purpose to enumerate and describe the
many other versions of the roundel, the Greystoke, and the Longford
portraits, which exist in various European collections at St.
Petersburg,[415] Cassel, Karlsruhe, Vienna, Turin,[416] Rotterdam,
Lausanne,[417] and elsewhere. As already stated, they were in great
demand among the admirers of Erasmus, so that numerous copies must have
been made. In the lifetime of Amerbach’s son Basilius there were no less
than five in Basel, and when Richard Strein of Vienna wrote to him
asking him to procure him a portrait of the great humanist, Amerbach, in
reply, wanted to know which of the five he would like copied. The copy
by Pencz, already described, may have been taken from one of these later
portraits rather than from the Longford portrait of 1523. The copy at
Rotterdam is said to have been presented by the Basel Council to the
Rotterdam Council in 1532.

[Sidenote: WOODCUTS PORTRAIT OF ERASMUS]

Two other portraits of Erasmus by Holbein cannot be overlooked. These
are the two beautiful woodcuts from his designs, which, from the
fineness and accuracy of their execution, must have been cut by Hans
Lützelburger. The first is a small round portrait,[418] showing the head
and shoulders only, in profile, turned to the spectator’s right, seen
against a plain background, and inscribed round the plain circular
framework “Erasmus Roterodam.” It is evidently of about the same date as
the Louvre portrait, and may have been one of the first of Holbein’s
designs engraved by Lützelburger, who settled in Basel about 1523. The
delicate and rather emaciated features of the scholar have been
reproduced with wonderful skill. It was first used on the back of the
title-page of the _Adagiorum opus Des. Erasmi Roterodami_, published by
Froben in 1533, and again in _Des. Erasmi Rot. Ecclesiastæ sive de
ratione concionandi libri quatuor_ (1535).

The second,[419] and still more beautiful, woodcut is considerably
larger, being 11¼ inches high by 9 inches wide (Pl. 59). In his
catalogue Amerbach calls it “Erasmus Rotterdamus in eim Ghüs.” Erasmus
is represented at full length, standing, turned three-quarters to the
right, in his doctor’s cap and furred gown, his right hand resting on
the head of a truncated figure of Terminus, towards which he points with
his other hand. The framework or “ghüs” within which he is placed shows
to the fullest advantage Holbein’s complete mastery of Renaissance
design, and is equal to the finest contemporary Italian work of the
kind. It is purer in style, and lighter and more elegant in effect, than
the greater number of his earlier designs for woodcuts. Two pillars with
caryatid figures, with long beards and folded arms, and baskets of fruit
on their heads, support a round arch above which on either side are nude
figures with cornucopiæ, from which hang long wreaths of fruit and
foliage. The whole is surmounted by a winged cherub above a lion’s head,
from the mouth of which hangs a tablet inscribed “ER. ROT.” At the base
a larger tablet is supported by two fish-tailed female figures. As a
portrait this engraving is as fine as either the Longford or the Louvre
pictures. The small head is full of force and character; and equally
fine is the expression on the smiling face of the Terminus, while the
treatment of the draperies is just as admirable. It is difficult to know
which to admire the most, the beauty of the artist’s design and
draughtsmanship, or the wonderful fidelity of the engraver, who in
cutting it has lost little or nothing of the delicacy of Holbein’s
touch, for both are masterly.

The original pear-wood block is in the Basel Gallery. Early proof
impressions of it are in the British Museum, the Berlin and Munich Print
Rooms, and elsewhere. These have a two-lined Latin inscription on the
tablet at the base—

              “Corporis effigiem si quis non vidit Erasmi,
               Hanc scite ad vivum picta tabella dabit.”

(If anyone has not seen Erasmus in his bodily shape, this cut, drawn
from life, will give his counterfeit.) The design was evidently made for
a complete edition of the works of Erasmus, but no such publication has
been met with in which this impression with the single distich appears.
The woodcut is first encountered in the complete edition of his writings
published by Froben’s son, Hieronymus, and Nic. Episcopius in 1540, with
a four-lined inscription, in which Holbein’s name is coupled with that
of Erasmus in terms of high praise—

               “Pallas Apellæam nuper mirata tabellam,
                  Hanc ait, æternum Bibliotheca colat.
                Dædaleam monstrat Musis Holbeinnius artem,
                  Et summi Ingenii Magnus Erasmus opes.”

No one but Lützelburger can have cut it, so that the design must have
been made before Holbein’s first visit to England. Why Froben made no
earlier use of it, it is impossible to say.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 59.


[Illustration:

  ERASMUS
  _From a woodcut in the British Museum_
]

[Sidenote: PORTRAITS OF FROBEN]

The history of the double portrait of Erasmus and Froben, as far as it
is known, has been already given. The version of Froben, at Hampton
Court[420]—No. 603 (323)—is a drawing on parchment, afterwards fastened
down on a panel, and roughly finished as a picture, and has little of
the careful elaboration of Holbein’s painted portraits. It is a
half-length figure, less than life-size, turned to the right, the face
seen almost in profile. The arms are folded, and the hands, thrust
within the sleeves of his brown cloak, which is lined with fur at the
neck, are not seen. He wears no cap, and his straight hair is growing
thin. The head is seen against what now appears to be a window or
opening, sea-green in colour, which is part of the original plain
background, afterwards repainted by Von Steenwyck with various pillars
and mouldings. In front is a narrow stone ledge, over the greater part
of which hangs what appears to be a white cloth, on which is inscribed,
“IOANNES FROBENIUS TYP. HHOLBEIN P.” which is not the original
handiwork of the painter. The face is a kindly but ugly one, and bears
out the character given to him by Erasmus, who was overcome with grief
at his sudden death. “All the friends of the belles lettres,” he wrote
to a friend, “should put on mourning attire and shed tears at the death
of this man, and should wreath his grave with ivy and flowers. Never
before have I felt how great is the power of sincere friendship. I bore
with moderation the death of my own brother; but what I cannot endure is
the longing for Froben. So simple and sincere was his nature that he
could not have dissembled had he wished. To show kindness to everyone
was his greatest delight, and even if the unworthy received his
benefits, he was glad. His fidelity was immovable, and as he himself
never had evil in his mind, he was never able to cherish suspicion of
others.”

There is a similar portrait of Froben in the Basel Gallery (No.
357),[421] an old copy, which was presented to the Basel University by
Christian von Mechel, who acquired it as an original work by Holbein
from the publisher Enschede at Haarlem in 1792, and was transferred to
the Gallery in 1811. In the letter making the gift he speaks of it as
softer, richer, and more powerful than the usual Holbein style. A third,
and inferior, example was lent to the Tudor Exhibition in 1890 by Sir
Henry B. St. John Mildmay, Bt. (No. 134), which is perhaps identical
with the small portrait in oil which belonged to Walpole and was sold in
1842 at the Strawberry Hill sale for 19 guineas.

The genuineness of the Hampton Court portrait of Froben has been often
disputed, and to-day the consensus of opinion is not in its favour. Both
Waagen and Woltmann regarded it as a copy, and more recent writers,
among them Dr. Ganz, hold the same view. Even those who consider it to
be a genuine work by Holbein are forced to own that it is by no means a
fine example of his portraiture. The head, however, has more character
than is usually found in a copy, and, no doubt, its present condition is
due to some extent to the mishandling it received from Von Steenwyck,
who probably did not confine his attentions solely to the background. It
is possible, therefore, to regard it as an original study by Holbein,
which has suffered somewhat severely in the course of years. Mr. Ernest
Law speaks of it as a genuine though not first-class example, and refers
to the version at Basel as “little more than a clumsy imitation” of
it.[422] The Basel Catalogue, on the other hand, says that the latter
portrait, which is an old copy or else an original which has suffered
severely from repainting, is “incomparably better than the
seventeenth-century replica at Hampton Court.” Woltmann considered the
Basel version to be merely a late Netherlandish copy,[423] while
Knackfuss says that it is “very bad as regards colouring.”[424]

[Sidenote: ROUNDEL OF MELANCHTHON]

Another friend and correspondent of Erasmus, Philip Melanchthon, was
painted by Holbein, though there is no evidence to show when or how they
met. The small roundel in oils of the young German scholar in the
Provinzial Museum at Hanover (Pl. 58 (2))[425] may perhaps have been
done as a pendant to the circular “Erasmus” at Basel. It is almost
exactly the same size, about four inches in diameter, and is carried out
with an almost equal delicacy and freedom of touch, as though it were a
study direct from nature. Melanchthon is shown nearly in full profile to
the right, with dark smooth hair falling on his ears, and a scanty beard
and moustache. His coat and plain white shirt are open in front, showing
the bare chest. The background is grey, but may possibly have been at
one time blue. The head itself is not free from retouching. It is
preserved in its original circular box, the inner side of the cover
being decorated in grey monochrome with a very beautiful design of
foliage and fruit intermingled with the heads and figures of satyrs in
the Renaissance style from Holbein’s own hand, and across the centre a
cartouche with the following inscription in gold: “Qui cernis tantum
non, viva Melanthonis ora, Holbinus rara dexteritate dedit,”[426] which
is perhaps the sitter’s own personal tribute to the skill of the
painter. The style of the Renaissance decoration indicates that in all
probability the portrait was painted during Holbein’s third stay in
Basel (1528-32).[427] Melanchthon attended the Imperial Diet at Speier
in 1529,[428] and a little later visited his mother in Bretten, and it
is by no means impossible that he also went to Freiburg to see Erasmus,
and that while there, some time during 1530, Holbein painted the
roundels of both friends. A second version of this portrait was in the
possession of Horace Walpole, in which the inscription runs round the
outer edge. It fetched fifteen guineas at the Strawberry Hill sale in
1842, and is now in the collection of Sir William van Horne in Montreal.

With these portraits of Erasmus and some of his most intimate friends
may be placed Holbein’s own portrait of himself (_Frontispiece_), the
very exquisite drawing in the Basel Gallery (No. 320),[429] in which he
is represented almost full face, wearing a large red hat, a brown-grey
cloak or overcoat with bands of black velvet, and a white shirt tied
with strings at the neck. He is beardless, with short dark-brown hair,
and brown eyes. The study is on paper, and is drawn in Indian ink and
coloured chalks, and washed with water-colour which has faded in parts.
This drawing, like the portrait of Holbein’s wife and children, and the
one of Von Rüdiswiler of Lucerne by Ambrosius Holbein, has been at some
time cut out round the outlines, and afterwards mounted on a greyish
paper, which produces the slight effect of hardness which must certainly
have been missing in its untouched state.[430] In 1907 the plain blue
background was carefully renewed from an old example.

Some writers have held that it is not absolutely certain that this
drawing really represents the painter. In the Amerbach inventory of 1586
it is described as, “Item ein tafelen gehort darin ein conterfehung
Holbeins mit trocken farben (a counterfeit of Holbein in dry colours,
_i.e._ crayons), so im grossen kasten vnder Holbeins kunst ligt”; and in
the later inventories it is described in much the same way. Knackfuss,
among others, says that from these words it is not positively to be
concluded that the “counterfeit” was of Holbein himself. There can be
little doubt, however, that Amerbach intended to describe it as a
portrait of Holbein by himself; if it had been a drawing of some unknown
sitter he would have so described it. As far back as 1676 it was
published by Patin in his edition of the _Praise of Folly_ as Holbein’s
portrait from his own hand. It bears, too, a strong likeness to the
portraits of Holbein as a boy by the elder Hans, both in the “St. Paul”
picture and in the drawing of 1511 of the two brothers at Berlin. There
is the same massive head, with its fine forehead, breadth of
cheek-bones, strong chin, and firm mouth. It has great resemblance, too,
when due allowance has been made for the passing of twenty years or so,
to the miniature portraits of himself which he painted at the end of his
life. It may be accepted, indeed, without reservation as a genuine
portrait of Holbein, of about the date 1523-5, when he was some
twenty-six years old.[431] As a portrait it is a magnificent study. The
face is a strong one, of a somewhat serious cast, but with a suggestion
of humour about the finely shaped mobile mouth and in the clear brown
eyes. The broadly built head with its high forehead indicates strength
of character and intellectual capacity, and there is a quiet dignity and
a sense of power in the whole countenance and in the carriage of the
youthful figure, which one would expect to find in the likeness of a
painter possessed, as Holbein was, of such brilliant technical abilities
and so wonderful a creative genius.[432]


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                               CHAPTER IX

                     DESIGNS FOR BOOK ILLUSTRATIONS

Holbein’s work for the Basel publishers—Imperfection of the cutting of
  his earlier book illustrations—His connection with Hans
  Lützelburger—His first title-page—More’s _Utopia_—the Table of
  Cebes—Luther’s translation of the New Testament—Title-page to the
  quarto edition—Work for Luther’s translation of the Old Testament—“The
  Sale of Indulgences”—“Christ the True Light”—Woodcuts representing
  incidents of common life, dancing, merry-making, &c.—Initial letters
  and alphabets—Trade-marks and devices for printers.


THROUGHOUT the whole period of his first residence in Basel a
considerable part of Holbein’s time was occupied with the production of
designs for book illustrations, such as title-pages, head and
tail-pieces, ornamental borders, initial letters, and printers’ marks.
Including the “Dance of Death” and Old Testament illustrations, and the
various alphabets of his designing, Woltmann enumerates more than three
hundred woodcuts or metal engravings, large or small, for which Holbein
made the drawings. Much of his work of this kind was done for Froben,
but he was also frequently employed by Adam Petri, Thomas Wolff, and
other printers and publishers.

The old contention that Holbein himself cut the blocks bearing his own
designs, which at one time produced much acrimonious dispute and a
voluminous literature, has long since been abandoned, and there is
absolutely nothing to be said in its favour. He must, however, have had
a thorough working knowledge of the technical side of woodengraving, and
of the limits within which it was necessary to confine his art; and
within those limits he produced the most splendid results.

A number of his earlier designs were not cut in wood, but in metal. The
method was similar to that of wood-cutting, the drawing being left in
relief, as on the wood block, a process exactly opposite to copperplate
engraving, in which the lines to be reproduced are incised. Several of
his title-pages and ornaments from metal blocks bear the initials I.F.
upon them, and it was at one time considered that they were probably the
work of Froben himself,[433] who is described more than once as
“chalcographer,” or a worker in metal. The term, however, may mean only
a designer and caster of type, which was a trade Froben followed side by
side with that of a publisher. The I.F. of these engravings was not
Froben, but Jakob Faber, who was the best of the cutters in metal who
worked after Holbein. Froben, no doubt, employed a permanent staff of
engravers, both for his own publications and also for the sale of blocks
and plates to other publishers. Faber was possibly one of those who
found more or less regular employment in his service, and another was
the engraver with the signature “C.V.,” who engraved the eight metal
cuts in illustration of the Lord’s Prayer, which appeared about 1523,
badly printed, in two rare editions of the _Precatio Dominica_ of
Erasmus, copies of which are included in the William Mitchell Collection
in the British Museum. The proofs in the Basel Gallery have German text;
the Mitchell set, with a clause of the Paternoster in French printed at
the top of each cut, is a unique state, and the impressions are very
early and sharp. The same “C.V.” engraved in metal the Evangelists in
the Greek Testaments of 1524 and 1540.

One of the finest of Faber’s metal-cuts is the folio title-page issued
by Cratander in 1525, representing Christ before God the Father,
surrounded by a great crowd of boy-angels, in the lunette at the top,
the symbols of the four Evangelists in niches shown in perspective at
the sides, and the Apostles at the foot. This title-page is made up of
four separate plates, each of which bears the initials “I.F.”[434] Quite
recently (1913) the British Museum has received from the National
Art-Collections Fund a rare Book of Hours, printed at Lyon in 1548,
containing fourteen metal-cuts by Faber after Holbein’s designs.

[Sidenote: HANS LÜTZELBURGER]

According to Woltmann, many copper plates after Holbein’s designs were
still in existence in Basel as late as 1852, in the possession of the
family of a publisher named Haas, but were subsequently sold on a
division of the property, all further traces of them being lost.[435]
These metal engravings of Holbein’s book ornaments as a rule do but
little justice to the original designs, and compare very unfavourably
with the later wood engravings cut by Hans Lützelburger. They miss much
of the strength and character of Holbein’s line, and are marked by a
hardness of effect which is by no means pleasing.

Many of the earlier wood engravings, too, suffer in the same way from
the imperfection of the cutting, inferior workmen having been employed
to reproduce them, just as in the case of the book illustrations of
Ambrosius Holbein, who was employed by Froben quite as often as his
brother Hans, and whose work also suffered from inadequate translation.
It thus becomes difficult, in the case of several unsigned prints, to
decide which of the two young men was the designer of them. In these
earlier efforts, too, Hans had not reached to that pitch of excellence
in adapting his design to the requirements of the wood-cutters to which
he attained some years later, when he was working in conjunction with
Lützelburger, nor had his powers of draughtsmanship and composition yet
found their complete expression. Having at length met with an engraver
who could do full justice to his ideas, and one who was as great a
master in one branch of art as he himself was in another, Holbein’s
genius for decorative design matured rapidly, so that the two men
between them produced works in this field which have never been
surpassed. They worked together from the autumn of 1522 until
Lützelburger’s death and Holbein’s departure from Basel in 1526.

Modern researches have failed to glean much information about the life
and career of Lützelburger. On a tablet below a wood engraving of his
cutting representing a battle between peasants and naked men in a fir
wood in Utopia, designed by the unknown Augsburg master N.H., he signs
himself “HANNS. LEVCZELLBVRGER. FVRMSCHNIDER. 1.5.2.2.” At a later date,
on the proofs of Holbein’s “Dance of Death” alphabet, he calls himself
“Hanns Lützelburger, furmschneider, genant Franck,” that is, “Hans
Lützelburger, wood-engraver, called Franck.” This is printed in movable
type, the first H being an ornamented Roman capital, while the other
letters of the name are in the German character. He was one of the group
of wood-engravers who were working at Augsburg about 1516-19, under the
direction of Jost de Negker, on the blocks for the Emperor Maximilian,
and his name is written or his monogram cut upon the back of nine of the
“Triumph” blocks, still preserved at Vienna, and he also cut nine of the
series of “Saints connected with the House of Habsburg” in 1516-17. All
available evidence indicates that the “Battle of Naked Men” was engraved
in Augsburg. In the same year, 1522, Lützelburger cut an alphabet for
the printer Schöffer at Maintz, of which the letter L is signed
“H.L.F.,” and the same date and initials occur on two specimen
ornamental alphabets evidently designed by the same unknown artist.[436]
Whether he was residing at Maintz at the time is uncertain, but by the
autumn of 1522 Lützelburger had moved to Basel, and was at work on Adam
Petri’s folio New Testament. There he remained until his death in the
summer of 1526, in constant collaboration with Holbein, engraving, among
many other designs, the “Dance of Death” woodcuts and many of the Old
Testament illustrations. What little is known of him points rather to
Augsburg than to Basel as his place of birth, though, according to Herr
His-Heusler’s researches, a family of that name was then living in
Basel, the names of both a Michael and a Jakob Lützelburger appearing in
the baptismal register of St. Leonhard between 1529 and 1533; while the
same name occurs frequently in the parish register of the adjacent town
of Colmar during the first half of the sixteenth century. Further
documents discovered by His-Heusler show that Lützelburger died in Basel
before the 23rd June 1526, and that he was insolvent at the time. Among
his creditors were the printer, Melchior Trechsel, of Lyon, for an
advance of 27 florins 15 shillings, and Hans zum Sessel (Froben), for 3
florins 10 shillings. Trechsel, the publisher of the “Dance of Death”
and “Old Testament” woodcuts, on hearing of Lützelburger’s death, also
demanded certain wood blocks ordered by his firm, for which the money
had been advanced, upon which the deceased had been at work. These
blocks were sent to him on the condition that he appointed some person
of substance in Basel as security, in case some other creditor proved to
have prior claims on the estate; and in accordance with this arrangement
he appointed Johan Lukas Iselin as his surety.[437] In the list of
Lützelburger’s furniture and effects seized by the court he is described
merely as “Hans Formschneider,” but there is no doubt that this
“form-cutter” was Lützelburger, who at the time of his death was cutting
the block of “The Waggoner” for the “Dance of Death,” which he left
incomplete.

Holbein drew all these designs directly on the wood block. There is not
a single sketch or study in existence for any one of the very numerous
book illustrations and decorations which he produced.[438] His
title-pages consist, in almost every case, of an ornamental framework of
Renaissance design with small panels on either side containing figure
subjects, usually taken from classical history or mythology, and across
the bottom a larger panel in which the chief subject is depicted. These
title-pages do not always consist of a single block, but of four
separate borders or strips, not always used together, but combined with
others, or used singly as chapter-headings or sidepieces. These
title-pages, designed in the first place for some particular book, were
thus afterwards often made to serve for the ornamentation of other
publications, with which at times their subjects had very little
connection; and they were also copied by various publishers and printers
in other cities of Switzerland and in Germany and elsewhere.

[Sidenote: “MUCIUS SCÆVOLA AND LARS PORSENA”]

Holbein’s earliest design for this purpose, drawn in 1515, shortly after
his arrival in Basel, and signed with the abbreviated name “Hans Holb.,”
has been already described.[439] This title-page, with its nine little
cupids, which has suffered from inferior cutting, but nevertheless has
considerable charm, was first used by Froben in the winter of 1515, and
appeared in a number of books issued during the next five years,
including More’s _Utopia_, published by Froben in 1518. The first of his
designs from ancient history formed the title-page to _Æneæ Platonici
Christiani de immortalitate animæ_, issued by Froben in 1516, and also
appeared in the Basel edition of the _Utopia_, and again in Erasmus’
_Praise of Matrimony_ in 1518. It represents the story of Mucius Scævola
and Lars Porsena (Pl. 60),[440] but has been so badly cut that much of
the dramatic force of Holbein’s composition has been lost. When Porsena,
the Etruscan king, was blockading Rome, after his attempted entry into
the city had been frustrated by the bravery of Horatius Cocles, Mucius,
a young Roman nobleman, resolved to rid his country of the invader. In
disguise he entered the hostile camp, and, approaching the tent in which
Porsena sat, with his secretary, dressed in similar fashion to his
master, by his side, plunged his dagger into the latter’s body,
mistaking him for the king. He was seized by the guards, and condemned
to death, but thrust his right hand into a fire which was already
lighted for a sacrifice, and held it there without flinching, to show
how little he heeded pain. Amazed at his bravery, Porsena allowed him to
go free; and Mucius afterwards received the name of Scævola, or the
left-handed, on account of his courage. Holbein has depicted the two
chief incidents of this legendary story side by side across the bottom
of the title-page. On the right is an open tent, in which Mucius is
stabbing the secretary, who is seated at a table by the side of the
king. On the left, Mucius, held by a guard, plunges his hand into the
fire in the presence of Porsena and his courtiers. Over each of the
principal characters is a label with his name, and in the background is
a small walled city labelled “Roma.” The figures, which are clad in
sixteenth-century costume, are short and stumpy, these faults, no doubt,
being exaggerated by the inadequate rendering of the engraver. The sides
of the page consist of two narrow panels of conventional foliated
design, with small figures, springing from vases, while the upper border
contains a group of naked children, blowing trumpets and dragging one of
their number in triumph. A small shield in the middle of the left-hand
border contains Holbein’s initials, “H.H.”


                           VOL. I., PLATE 60.


[Illustration:

  MUCIUS SCÆVOLA AND LARS PORSENA
  First used in 1516
  _From a copy of More’s “Epigrams” in the British Museum_
]

Froben, on the recommendation of Erasmus, undertook the publication of
Sir Thomas More’s _Utopia_ in 1518, and the edition was lavishly
ornamented with woodcuts, title-pages, and initials, in honour of the
author. The book had been already published in Louvain in the winter of
1516. Gerardus Noviomagus, of Nimeguen, writing to Erasmus on November
12th of that year, says that his friend Theodoricus has undertaken to
print it, and that Paludanus will show him “a cut of the island by a
great artist,” in order that Erasmus may make any suggestions he may
think necessary.[441] In Froben’s edition this “cut of the island” was
drawn by Ambrosius Holbein, as also the charming little picture of
Hythlodæus recounting his adventures in Utopia. As already stated, two
of Hans Holbein’s designs were re-used for this work, the title-page
with the children for the dedication to Ægidius, and the “Scævola” for
More’s _Epigrams_, which were added to the volume, together with others
by Erasmus, for which Urs Graf provided a title-page with the beheading
of St. John the Baptist. The title-page to the book itself, with the
story of Tarquin and Lucrece,[442] was designed by Ambrosius, who in
this instance took a much more important share in the work of
illustration than his brother, and he was possibly the “great artist” of
whom Noviomagus spoke in his letter.

[Sidenote: THE TABLE OF CEBES]

The title-page for the Statute Book of Freiburg-im-Breisgau, published
in 1520, with the beautiful design of the patron saints of that city on
the back, has been already described.[443] It is more finely cut than
most of these earlier book illustrations, as is also the title-page
representing the “Table of Cebes” (Pl. 61), perhaps the most important
work of the kind undertaken by Holbein before his connection with
Lützelburger began.[444] The unknown cutter of this block has rendered
Holbein’s design with considerable truth and artistic feeling. It is
founded on the Πιναξ or “Table,” a philosophical work of Cebes of
Thebes, the disciple and friend of Socrates, a book which enjoyed a
great popularity. It gives an allegorical picture of human life, as
explained by an old man to a circle of youths, and is intended to show
that true happiness is only to be attained by the cultivation of the
mind and the possession of real virtue. The “Picture” described in the
book was shown to the sage in a temple of Chronos, and was a painting
containing many figures, representing the progress of man towards the
desired goal. Holbein has followed the text very closely. The whole
picture is surrounded by a wall, which indicates the limits of human
life. Outside this wall, at the bottom of the design, are groups of
naked children, representing the souls of those who have not yet entered
life. They are playing and fighting, and some are begging admittance of
the old man, labelled “Genius,” who stands beneath the archway of the
portal. On the right, within the first courtyard, is the winged, naked
figure of Fortune on her rolling sphere, between two groups of people,
on the one side those on whom she has smiled and on the other the
unfortunate ones, who are railing at her; on the left is the seated
figure of a woman, richly dressed, representing Seduction or Persuasion,
with her attendant ladies as False Opinions. She holds out a gold cup to
tempt the newcomer to life from the true path. Behind, gazing over the
wall into the second courtyard, is the Traveller on life’s journey. He
next encounters Avarice, Lust, Incontinence, and other pitfalls, all
represented by small and characteristic groups of figures. Then, passing
through a gate, he follows a winding road, encountering on the way Pain
and Sorrow, the latter an old woman crouching in a ruined hut, who
threatens him with a whip, until he is welcomed at a further gateway by
Penitence, who holds out both hands in welcome. All danger, however, has
not yet been overtaken, for within he meets with False Discipline, a
grandly dressed lady and her attendants, but he gives her only a
sidelong glance as he hastens forward. The road now becomes rougher and
narrower, and he comes next upon a group of people engaged in the
pursuit of all the arts and sciences, which they regard as the end of
life. After this he has to clamber up steep rocks, which he does with
the help of Fortitude and Courage, the latter holding a golden cup in
either hand. Further on, at the entrance to the innermost enclosure, he
kneels before True Discipline, who, in the guise of a saint, with a
halo, stands on a small pedestal, attended by Truth and Conviction. From
here he enters the Castle of True Happiness, and again kneels, this time
to receive the laurel crown, the reward for his avoidance of all evil
and error on his life’s journey, which is placed on his head by
Happiness, who sits enthroned in the centre, in front of a castellated
building. She wears a crown and holds a sceptre, and her head is
surrounded by a halo of brilliant light. On either side are groups of
the Virtues. Many of the small figures in this design have great charm,
and the whole composition is well arranged and full of interest. Holbein
has signed it on one of the stones of the wall in the lower left-hand
corner with his initials in the form of a monogram, a small H within a
larger one. This woodcut was first used in the edition of Tertullian
published by Froben in 1521, and in the following year it formed the
title-page of Erasmus’ Latin edition of the New Testament. It became
very popular, and was frequently used for dictionaries, lexicons, and
similar publications during the next sixty years, being copied and
imitated by numerous printers.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 61.


[Illustration:

  “THE TABLE OF CEBES”
  First used in 1521
  _From a copy of Perotto’s “Cornucopiæ” in the British Museum_
]

[Sidenote: LUTHER’S NEW TESTAMENT]

The first fruits of the collaboration of Holbein and Lützelburger
appeared in an edition of Luther’s German translation of the New
Testament, which was issued by Adam Petri in Basel in December 1522. For
this Holbein drew a very beautiful title-page,[445] which, although it
bears no name or initials, is unmistakable in its authorship (Pl. 62).
The sides of the design are occupied with niches within which stand St.
Peter and St. Paul, grandly conceived figures of great nobility and
dignity. St. Peter, on the left, has a great key in one hand, and an
open book in the other, from which, with head and eyes cast down, he is
reading. On the right is St. Paul, with a long, flowing beard, holding a
sword across the open volume of his gospel. The architectural background
is simple, with shell ornamentation behind the heads of the two saints.
In the four corners of the page are the symbols of the four
Evangelists—the Angel, Eagle, Lion, and Bull—which serve as heraldic
supporters to the volumes of the gospels. In the centre at the top are
the arms of Basel, with the motto “INCLYTA BASILEA,” and at the bottom
is placed the printer’s mark, a naked child riding on a harnessed lion,
and bearing a standard with Petri’s monogram, and antedated 1523, the
background filled in with roses, a very fine design. A second edition of
this folio volume was published in March 1523, and at the same time one
in octavo. In the latter the title-page[446] closely follows the one in
the folio edition, and the book is also embellished with other woodcuts
of Holbein’s designing. On the first page of each gospel is a cut of the
figure of the Evangelist enclosed within a framework of Renaissance
design (Pl. 63).[447] The first three are each shown within a room, on
the wall of which is a framed picture illustrating that part of the
career of Christ most fully treated by the respective writers. St.
Matthew looks up from his writing, and listens to the kneeling Angel,
who raises a finger in admonition. The picture on the wall represents
Christ in the manger, with Mary kneeling, and Joseph kindling a fire.
St. Mark is seen from behind, deep in thought, the Lion crouching by his
side. The picture hanging above him is of Christ rising from the Tomb.
St. Luke, busily writing, wears a high cap, the Bull standing at the
back of the desk. Christ on the Cross forms the subject of the picture
on the wall. In each of these three pictures the Evangelist’s desk or
writing-table and seat form an interesting feature, as each one is of a
different design, and illustrates the furniture of Holbein’s own day.
St. John is represented in the wilderness, seated among rocks, writing
his gospel, his candle sheltered from the wind by stones, and the Eagle
looking down upon it. Christ appears in glory in the sky over the
distant mountains, and the saint is gazing up at the vision. This
woodcut is without an ornamental framework. Four other designs by
Holbein are included in the volume.[448] At the head of the Acts of the
Apostles is a representation of the Outpouring of the Holy Spirit. The
Epistle to the Romans is headed by the figure of St. Paul, preaching,
his sword under his arm, beneath a richly-decorated portal. The other
two represent the Conversion of Saul and St. Peter’s Vision of the
Unclean Beasts, and there are also a number of initial letters (Pl. 63).
The beautiful engraving of the title-page and many of the woodcuts
points to the hand of Lützelburger, though none of them are signed by
him. Another fine woodcut with the figure of St. Paul, with sword and
book, standing within an architectural niche, is to be found in the
Greek New Testament issued by T. Platter of Basel in 1540.[449]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 62.


[Illustration:

  TITLE-PAGE TO LUTHER’S “NEW TESTAMENT”
  First used in 1522
  _From a copy in the British Museum_
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 63.


[Illustration:

  THE FOUR EVANGELISTS
  Woodcuts, and Initial Letters used on the first page of each gospel,
    in the 1523 edition of Luther’s New Testament
  S                              D
  _From a copy in the British Museum_
]

[Illustration:

  THE FOUR EVANGELISTS
  Woodcuts, and Initial Letters used on the first page of each gospel,
    in the 1523 edition of Luther’s New Testament
  D                              I
  _From a copy in the British Museum_
]

In the same year, 1523, a second Basel publisher, Thomas Wolff, issued a
quarto edition of Luther’s translation of the New Testament, in the
decoration of which both Holbein and Lützelburger were employed. The
title-page[450] shows Holbein’s fertility of invention, his power of
dramatic representation, and his sense of style to the greatest
advantage. In the centre of the upper border St. John is baptizing the
Saviour in the river Jordan, the angel standing on the bank with his
garments, and on either side are the symbols of the four Evangelists.
The lower border contains Wolff’s device, a philosopher in a niche
enjoining silence, his monogram, and the motto, “Digito Compesce
Labellum,” and on either side of it the Vision of St. Peter and the
Conversion of St. Paul, who, dressed in German costume, is flung from
his horse. On the right-hand border St. Paul is shown on the island of
Melita, shaking off the viper from his hand into the fire, and in the
background the wreck of the ship; on the left-hand border is a
representation of the Baptism of the Treasurer of the King of Ethiopia
by St. Philip, while in the distance is depicted the journey of the same
eunuch along a hilly road shaded by trees. He is riding in a small
four-wheeled carriage, drawn by two horses tandem fashion, with the
driver mounted on the after one—one of the methods of travelling in
Holbein’s own day. This title-page is a masterpiece of the engraver’s
art, and is signed “H.L.FVR.” on the footstool on which St. Paul is
kneeling, in the lower border. Holbein also furnished twenty-one
illustrations to the Revelation of St. John for the same edition,[451]
which, however, for the most part were very badly cut, so that
Lützelburger cannot have been the engraver of them. They were used again
in Adam Petri’s folio New Testament of the same year. They are
particularly interesting as representing the same subjects as those
treated by Dürer in his first important work, which must have been known
to Holbein, who, however, has borrowed very little in his rendering of
the Visions. He shows less imagination and grandeur of conception than
Dürer, but follows the text with even closer fidelity, and treats each
subject with greater simplicity and clearness.[452] The last one of the
series, the Angel showing the Saint the New Jerusalem (Pl. 70 (3)),
contains a view of Lucerne with its covered bridge.

[Sidenote: THE “CREATION OF EVE”]

For Adam Petri’s reprint of Luther’s translation of the Old Testament,
published in December 1523, for which a title-page was provided by Urs
Graf, Holbein, in addition to numerous initial letters, was the designer
of the large woodcut which was placed at the head of the first chapter
of Genesis, representing the Creation of Eve,[453] a very beautiful
conception, in which God the Father is uplifting Eve from the side of
Adam, while a small angel tugs at his mantle. The earlier days of the
Creation are also represented—the Earth as a small island with various
animals upon it, surrounded by a strip of water containing fish, and
round this again a ring of clouds and stars, and a final circle of
angels, above whom the Almighty is shown again, blessing his work. In
the four corners are placed the heads of the four winds. Several other
illustrations were drawn by Holbein for this edition, but in most
instances they are marred by bad cutting.

One of the finest of his designs for woodcuts is the one representing
the Death of Cleopatra and the Sacrileges of Dionysius of Syracuse (Pl.
64),[454] first used by Froben in 1523 as the title-page for several
works by Erasmus. The framework, in the form of a sculptured monument in
the Italian style, is exceptional among Holbein’s work as a
book-illustrator, being shown in marked perspective as though seen from
the right. At the foot, beneath an arch, the dying Cleopatra, at full
length on the ground, holds an asp in each hand. On either side is
represented an act of sacrilege on the part of the Tyrant of Syracuse.
On the right he is reaching up to pluck off the golden beard from the
statue of Æsculapius, and on the left he is robbing the statue of
Jupiter of its golden mantle and ornaments. Above the frieze on the top
are Cupids riding on dolphins. The figures throughout are finely
conceived, and the Italian influence is marked.

Another fine title-page of his designing was cut for Bugenhagen’s
_Interpretation of the Psalms_, published by Petri in March 1524, and
afterwards used in Münster’s _Cosmography_, and elsewhere, in which the
principal subject is David dancing before the Ark;[455] and there are
others of which the scope of this book does not permit any description.

Two important woodcuts, “Christ the True Light,” and “The Sale of
Indulgences” (Pl. 65),[456] from their oblong shape were probably
intended to be placed at the head of some broadsheet written by a
supporter of the Reformation. In these designs, in which Lützelburger’s
extraordinary skill in delicate and at the same time forcible use of the
cutter’s knife has rendered with the utmost fidelity the beauty of
Holbein’s line, the artist shows himself to have been in close sympathy
with the new movement, in defence of which he brings to bear
considerable powers of ridicule and satire. The rarity of these two
prints is owing, no doubt, to the fact that the Basel Council maintained
at that time a very severe censorship over all theological
controversies, and strictly prohibited every publication or picture
dealing with such debatable topics. These two woodcuts, therefore,
attacking with merciless scorn the clergy, ecclesiastical abuses, and
superstitions, would come under the ban of the Council, and, at the same
time, every copy falling into the hands of the clerical party would be
destroyed. Hence only three or four copies of each are known.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 64.


[Illustration:

  THE CLEOPATRA TITLE-PAGE
  First used in 1523
  _From a copy of Erasmus’ “Christiani Matrimonii Institutio” in the
    British Museum_
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 65.


[Illustration:

  1. CHRIST THE TRUE LIGHT
  _From proofs in the British Museum_
]

[Illustration:

  2. THE SALE OF INDULGENCES
  _From proofs in the British Museum_
]

[Sidenote: THE “SALE OF INDULGENCES”]

The “Sale of Indulgences” is divided into two parts. On the right is
shown the interior of a church, with the Pope enthroned, and surrounded
by his cardinals. In the decorations of the building the arms of the
Medici occur many times. Leo X is handing a letter of indulgence to a
kneeling Dominican. In the choir-stalls on either side are seated a
number of Church dignitaries. On the right, one of them rests his hand
on the head of a kneeling youth and with a stick points to a large
iron-bound chest for the money-offerings, into which a woman is putting
her contribution. At a table on the left various Dominicans are
preparing and selling indulgences. One of them repulses a beggar, who
has nothing to give in exchange for the remission of his sins, while
another is carefully checking the money which a suppliant is counting
out on the table, and holding back the letter until the full amount has
been received. The small figures are very lifelike, and the whole
composition is a bitter satire upon the traffic of the Church. The
left-hand half of the picture shows a landscape in which three true
penitents are beseeching forgiveness from God the Father, who appears
with outstretched arms in the clouds above them. Over the head of each
figure is a label inscribed, “K. David,” “Manasses,” and “Offen-Synder,”
respectively. The first-named kneels, with his harp by his side on the
ground; the others stand with clasped hands and bowed heads.

The second sheet, called in the Amerbach inventory “Christus vera lux,
philosophi et papa in foveam cadentes,” is divided into two halves by a
magnificent candlestick which rises in the centre, the flame surmounted
by a large halo of light. The stem contains sculptured figures of the
four Evangelists, and the base is supported by their four symbols. On
the left, Christ, a finely-conceived figure, points to the light with
uplifted hand, and addresses a group of citizens, peasants, beggars, and
other simple folk, who listen eagerly to his words. On the right, a
procession of the clergy and learned men turn their backs upon the true
light, and wander forth into the wilderness, led by Plato and Aristotle,
the first of whom has stumbled into a deep pit, while the second is
about to fall after him. They are followed by the Pope, a bishop,
canons, and other churchmen, and monks of various orders, and a figure
which appears to represent Erasmus. Behind them rise lofty snow
mountains, while a distant city is seen across the plain in the centre,
and trees on the left. This woodcut bears witness to the rapidly growing
change in the point of view of the Reformers, who were already parting
company with their former allies, the humanists and scholars. Holbein in
this design gives expression to the popular feeling of his day in Basel,
which was beginning to regard classical learning with suspicion as a
supporter of the theology to which it was opposed. This woodcut was used
in 1527 to illustrate a large broadsheet, the “Evangelistical Calendar”
of Dr. Johannes Copp.

Holbein’s fertility of invention in this field was not confined to
subjects chosen from the Bible or from classical literature. Numerous
woodcuts occur in which he has made excellent use of incidents taken
from the ordinary life of his day. There is a well-known border
representing a group of peasants chasing a fox which has stolen a goose
from the farmyard, an engraving on metal, which, in spite of the
inferiority of the cutting, is full of humour and rapid movement.[457]
The small figures, carrying flails, spades, and other hastily
snatched-up weapons—among them a girl with a hayrake on her shoulder and
a soldier with his spear—are running at full speed, while behind them an
old man, leaning on a stick, stands among the remaining geese and shouts
directions for the fox’s capture. Another border shows a peasants’
dance,[458] very similar in treatment to the same subject in the
wall-painting of the House of the Dance. These two borders, with two
side ones, representing children climbing trees, were frequently used by
Cratander of Basel in books published between 1526 and 1534, and a
second “Peasants’ Dance”[459] is often found in Adam Petri’s
publications. Similar borders with dancing or playing children
frequently occur. Most of them appear to have been cut in metal by
Faber.

[Sidenote: ALPHABETS WITH PEASANTS & CHILDREN]

Both peasants and children were favourite themes with him in his designs
for initial letters, which formed an important part of the decoration of
the books issued from the Basel presses. He produced a number of
complete alphabets, from A to Z, in which the little pictures which
surrounded the letters formed a connected series of designs. Almost
invariably the letter itself was shown in plain Roman type, placed
within a small square, the background being filled in with small figures
which have no actual connection with the letter, but are so combined
with it as to produce a very decorative effect. One of the most
beautiful of these alphabets, of which complete proof-sheets are to be
found at Basel and Dresden, represents the merry-makings of a rustic
fair,[460] and was used by both Froben and Cratander. The series opens
with two musicians playing bagpipes, and the ten next letters represent
dancing couples. In succeeding letters the peasants are represented
making love, fighting, playing games and practical jokes, drinking, and
other scenes in which the humour is too gross for modern tastes, and
concluding with the return from the fair, the peasant riding home with
his wife behind him, and the visit of the doctor on the following
morning, made necessary by over-indulgence in merry-making. The cutting
of the set is so beautiful that it must be from the hand of
Lützelburger; no other engraver then working in Basel was capable of
such minutely fine work, or could do such full justice to Holbein’s
genius for filling such small spaces with designs which appear so
spacious and so large in style.

Another alphabet, which was evidently also cut by Lützelburger and used
by Cratander, of which there is a proof-sheet at Basel, is devoted to
the games of children.[461] They are represented dancing, playing music,
tilting on hobby-horses, riding on one another’s backs, hair-pulling,
wrestling, and so on, while in one instance a small boy is chasing a cat
with a bird in its mouth. Holbein was always very happy in his treatment
of children, and in this instance, as in the Peasants’ Alphabet, the
delicacy of the execution is wonderful. There are three other alphabets
dealing with children, and portions of others,[462] in one of which they
are engaged in various trades and employments, and appear as carpenters,
millers, masons, fishermen, bakers, painters, doctors, and so on.
Another alphabet gives scenes from the Old Testament,[463] and a second
consists of Greek initials.[464] Other letters, far too numerous to
enumerate here, represent ornaments, flowers, animals, still life, love
scenes, and soldiers. The most famous series of all, however, is the one
known as the “Alphabet of Death,” which is described in the next
chapter.

[Sidenote: WOODCUTS PRODUCED IN ENGLAND]

Holbein also designed a number of marks or devices for the various
printers who employed him, which were used on the first and last pages
of their publications. For Johann Bebelius he drew a palm-tree with a
heavy weight pressing down the branches among which it is placed; in a
second design for the same publisher a naked man is shown beneath this
weight, who attempts with hands and feet to resist the pressure.[465]
Cratander’s trade-mark was Fortune or Opportunity, a naked goddess, with
long flowing hair and winged feet, poised on a revolving ball, a
broad-bladed knife in her hand. Valentine Curio’s device was the Table
of Parrhasius, a hand drawing[466] on a panel one straight line between
two others, enclosed, like the mark of Cratander, within an ornamented
shield. For Thomas Wolff[467] Holbein drew the figure of a scholar or
publisher issuing from a doorway, his finger on his lips enjoining
silence, with the inscription: “Digito compesce labellum.” The devices
of Matthias Bienenvater or Apiarius of Berne and Christopher Froschover
of Zürich, contain punning allusions to their name. The former[468]
represents a bear climbing a tree after honey, with the bees swarming
round him; for the latter[469] Holbein made three different designs,
each one containing frogs. In one the frogs are climbing a tree, with a
beautiful landscape background of hills and peasants’ houses, the whole
within a Renaissance framework, and evidently cut by Lützelburger; in
the two others a boy is represented riding on a large frog, one of them
with a background representing the Lake of Zürich, with villages at the
foot of the mountains, and the other with a hilly landscape with a
castle on a height. Lastly, a very beautiful device made for Reinhold
Wolfe[470] appears to have been produced during Holbein’s last residence
in England, though the cutting of the block was most probably done in
Basel. It represents three boys flinging sticks into an appletree laden
with fruit, and bears his motto “Charitas.”[471] Wolfe, who was settled
in London, was possibly some relation of Thomas Wolff, the Basel
publisher, and so may have sent his book illustrations to Switzerland to
be engraved. This particular device, in any case, is too finely cut to
have been done in England at that period. Wolfe was the publisher of
John Leland’s _Naeniæ_, which contained a woodcut portrait of Sir Thomas
Wyat after Holbein,[472] and also of the same writer’s poem on the birth
of the Prince of Wales, which was not issued until 1543. On the back of
the title-page of the last publication is the device of the Prince, “Ich
Dien” under a crown of ostrich feathers, within a halo, which appears to
be after a design by Holbein.[473] A few other woodcuts which date from
the artist’s last residence in England are referred to in a later
chapter.[474]


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                               CHAPTER X

            THE “DANCE OF DEATH” AND OLD TESTAMENT WOODCUTS

The “Dance of Death” in literature and art—Early examples in Basel—Date
  of Holbein’s “Dance of Death” woodcuts—Early proofs—Date of
  publication—Description of the first edition—Reasons for delay in
  publication—Description of the separate woodcuts—Holbein’s “Alphabet
  of Death”—His illustrations to the Old Testament.


HOLBEIN’S fame as a designer of woodcuts, which had spread throughout
Europe before the close of the sixteenth century, was due almost
entirely to his celebrated “Dance of Death” pictures, and, in a lesser
degree, to his Old Testament illustrations, both first published in
1538, though they were drawn, and for the greater part cut, between the
years 1523 and 1526. They attained an immediate and widespread
popularity, a popularity which has been a lasting one. Edition after
edition followed in quick succession, and throughout the succeeding
years down to the present day hardly a decade has passed without a fresh
version being given to the world.

For centuries before the birth of Holbein the subject of Death in both
pictorial and literary art was a favourite one throughout Europe, and
more particularly among the German-speaking peoples, to whose
imagination it made a strong appeal. Its representation both in painting
and in literature was of common occurrence long before he made use of
it, and by his genius rendered it immortal. The whole history of the
subject is of great interest, and a voluminous literature has gathered
round it, upon which it is not possible to touch in these pages. From
the Middle Ages onwards these representations of the Dance of the Dead
became common, and were painted on the walls of churches, the cloisters
of convents, and castle halls. Well-known examples of such
wall-paintings at one time existed in Paris, Blois, Berlin, Dresden,
Lubeck, Strasburg, Basel, Berne, and other places, while in England a
famous one was painted on the north side of St. Paul’s Cathedral during
the reign of Henry VI. With the invention of printing, small versions of
the pictures were issued in book form, and beneath them the old verses
which accompanied the earlier wall-paintings, pointing out the terrors
of death, and exhorting the wicked to repentance ere it was too late. In
course of time the illustrations assumed greater importance, the number
of the figures was increased, and the verses played only a secondary
part.

[Sidenote: WALL-PAINTINGS OF “DANCE OF DEATH”]

More than one early wall-painting of the Dance existed in Basel in
Holbein’s day, and there can be little doubt that the constant sight of
them stirred his imagination, and influenced his conception of the
subject when he in his turn made use of it. The earliest in point of
date was the one in the Klingenthal nunnery in Little Basel, which is
said to have been dated 1312; but it is doubtful whether much of this
wall-painting remained by the beginning of the sixteenth century. Only a
few badly-damaged portions were in existence in 1773, when it was
rediscovered by Emanuel Büchel, a baker, who made coloured copies of
what was left, which are now in the Basel Gallery. No traces of the
original painting are now to be seen. The better-known Dance of the
Dominican monastery in Great Basel in the suburb of St. John was of
later date, executed probably towards the end of the fourteenth or early
in the fifteenth century. According to tradition, for which there is no
absolute proof, it was painted after the deliverance of Basel from the
horrors of the terrible plague which raged there in 1439. It was copied
or adapted from the older Klingenthal painting, closely following its
arrangement of the various couples, but showing a great advance in
artistic treatment, and in the variety and movements of the dancers. It
consisted of about forty life-sized groups. In course of time it became
so faded that in 1568 it was restored by Hans Hug Kluber, who made
several additions to it; and it was again repaired in 1616, and in 1703.
After that it was allowed to fall into a state of dilapidation, and in
1815 the wall of the cemetery of the monastery on which it was painted
was pulled down by order of the Council, for the purpose of street
improvements. A few remnants of it are still preserved in the Gallery,
as well as coloured copies made by Emanuel Büchel in the same year as
those he took from the Klingenthal painting. It is also well known from
the engravings made after it by Merian in the seventeenth century.[475]
This wall-painting was formerly regarded in Basel as the work of
Holbein, a legend which was a long time dying. The mistake, no doubt,
originally arose through the wide celebrity attained by the artist’s
woodcut designs of the Dance, underneath which were printed verses taken
from the older wall-paintings, so that the confusion between the two
gradually grew, at first in Germany and elsewhere outside Switzerland,
until in the end the error became established in Basel itself. At one
time, too, the almost equally celebrated “Dance of Death” in the
cemetery of the Dominican monastery in Berne, painted with the most
biting satire by Niklaus Manuel, called Deutsch, was also attributed to
Holbein. This wall-painting, which was finished before the year 1522,
had completely perished by 1660, and the only records of it now
remaining consist of a few drawings copied from it before its
disappearance.

Holbein’s designs for the “Dance of Death”[476] were all made, and
nearly all the blocks were cut, before Lützelburger’s death in the
summer of 1526 and his own departure for England later in that year.
This is not only proved by the evidence of the cuts themselves, which
display a hand so masterly that it can only be that of Lützelburger, but
also more directly from a series of copies of twenty-three of them
preserved in the Berlin Museum. These are circular studies, about five
inches in diameter, on brown paper, enlarged from the original blocks.
They are somewhat coarse in execution, and appear to have been made for
reproduction as glass-paintings. That they are not the original designs
for the woodcuts, or taken from such designs, but were copied from the
woodcuts themselves, is proved, first, by the fact that they are not
reversed, as they would have been if based on the original drawings,
and, secondly, that the one of “The Duchess” repeats the initials “H.L.”
on the bedpost with which Lützelburger signed his work. These copies,
therefore, must have been executed after the actual cutting of the
blocks; and as one of them (“The Emperor”) is dated “1527,” it gives a
date before which both the woodcuts, and the designs for them, must have
been prepared. The copies were taken, no doubt, from one or other of the
several proof impressions which were printed off while the work of
cutting was in progress, complete sets of which are in the British,
Berlin, and Basel Museums, the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris, and the
Grand Ducal Cabinet at Karlsruhe, while less complete sets are to be
found elsewhere. The Basel set is printed on four folio sheets, on one
side of the paper only, with ten cuts on each page, and the title of
each subject printed over it in German, in italic movable type, as in
all but one of the other proof impressions known. These proofs include
the whole of the subjects in the first printed edition of 1538, with the
exception of the one of “The Astrologer,” and they are of the greatest
beauty and sharpness, and are printed in a fine black ink. The
Bibliothèque Nationale also possesses a second but incomplete set of
proofs, but among the subjects that of “The Astrologer” is included,
which is missing in the other sets, which seems to indicate that it is a
little later in date. This is the only copy extant, and, like the
earlier ones, the set is printed on one side of the paper only, but has
slight variations in the titles, which are printed in upright German
Gothic characters instead of the more usual sloping Latin lettering.

[Sidenote: REASONS FOR DELAY IN PUBLICATION]

Lützelburger’s work upon the blocks was probably spread over several
years. The “Alphabet of Death,” which appears to have been undertaken
before the “Dance,” was first used in 1524, and Holbein’s designs for
both series must have been prepared during that year and the following
one. This was the period of the Peasants’ War, years of misery and
bloodshed throughout Switzerland, and the state of feeling which it
excited can be traced to some extent in these little pictures. This
unsettled state of public affairs may have been the cause, otherwise
almost inexplicable, of the long delay in the publication of the
“Dance,” which was not issued until twelve years after the engraver’s
death, and then not in Switzerland, but France. The acuteness of the
religious controversy which divided Basel into two hostile factions,
resulted, in 1524, in an edict of the Council forbidding the publication
of all controversial matter; and although it is difficult to see much
cause for controversy in the “Dance of Death,” it is easy to understand
that in those days of doubt and disturbance the Basel publishers may
well have hesitated to produce anything which might be considered as
coming, however indirectly, within the ban of the civic authorities.
Otherwise it seems certain that such a printer as Froben, or one of the
other leading publishers, who knew so well the capabilities of both
artist and engraver, would have been only too pleased to issue so fine a
result of their united labours. Publication in Basel being debarred for
the time, Lützelburger appears to have entered into negotiations with
the Trechsels of Lyon, to whom, in the end, the blocks were transferred.
The engraver was working for them at the time of his death, most
probably on the “Dance” itself, one of the subjects of which, “The
Waggoner,” he left unfinished, and the Trechsels, as already
explained,[477] were put to some trouble before they could obtain
possession of it. Probably Holbein had nothing to do with this
transaction. He seems to have received a commission from Lützelburger
for the designs, and to have had no further interest in the venture.

It is equally difficult to explain the delay on the part of the
Trechsels in publishing the book, unless for a similar reason—a belief
that the times were inopportune for the issue of such a satire. The cuts
were at length published in 1538 under the title of “Les Simulachres &
Historiees Faces de la Mort, avtant elegammēt pourtraictes, que
artificiellement imaginées” (The Images and Storied Aspects of Death as
elegantly delineated, as ingeniously imagined). From this it will be
seen that the popular title for the work, “The Dance of Death,” by which
it was already known by the end of the sixteenth century, is an
incorrect one. The woodcuts were “Pictures of Death,” and though the
characters introduced are largely those of the earlier representations,
Holbein has entirely abandoned the general motive of a dance of the
living and the dead, which was the leading characteristic of the
numerous wall-paintings. Instead, each sheet forms a separate dramatic
scene, in which Death, in the guise of a skeleton, claims the living as
his prey. In Basel, however, where the wall-painting of the Dominican
monastery was one of the most familiar sights, and one in which the
citizens took great pride, the title by which it was known, “The Dance
of Death,” was also popularly applied to the woodcuts shortly after
their appearance, and the name has adhered to them ever since.

[Sidenote: FIRST EDITION OF THE DANCE]

The first edition is in the form of a small quarto. On the title-page
below the title is a printer’s mark or emblem, which is not of Holbein’s
designing or Lützelburger’s cutting, representing three heads—of an old
man, a youth, and a woman—joined together, two in profile, and the
central one, that of the woman, full face, with a star on her forehead,
and a wreath above. From the shoulders spring a pair of peacock’s wings,
the whole resting on a pedestal, on the top of which is an open book
inscribed in Greek characters, “Gnothi Seauton,” and at the foot a
serpent and two chained globes, one surmounted by a small cross, and the
other with two wings. This emblem has the further motto “Usus me
Genuit.” At the bottom of the page is printed, “A Lyon, Soubz lescu de
Coloigne, M.D.XXXVIII.” At the end of the book, within an ornamental
border, is the imprint: “Excvdebant Lvgdvni Melchior et Gaspar Trechsel
Fratres. 1538.” Next to the title-page comes a preface of six pages,
which is followed by seven pages descriptive of “diverses tables de
Mort, non painctes, mais extraictes de l’escripture saincte, colorées
par Docteurs Ecclesiastiques, et umbragées par Philosophes.” After these
verbal sketches come the woodcuts themselves, forty-one in all, each one
printed on a separate page, and, in place of the German titles of the
various sets of early proofs, a text in Latin above the pictures, and
beneath them a four-lined verse in French, written by Gilles Corrozet,
containing moral reflections appropriate to the various subjects. The
subjects themselves are not arranged in the same order as in the proof
impressions, in which the clergy are separated from the laity, and the
men from the women, beginning with the Pope and ending with the Little
Child. In the Lyon edition the Emperor follows the Pope, and is in turn
followed by the King, the Cardinal, the Empress, and so on. The pictures
are succeeded by a series of descriptions of Death and reflections on
mortality of a didactic character, under the title, “Figures de la Mort
moralement descriptes, & depeinctes selon l’authorité de l’scripture &
des sainctz Peres,” the whole being brought to a conclusion with a
discourse, “De la Necessite de la Mort qui ne laisse riens estre
pardurable.”

A passage in the French preface is of considerable interest, as it
relates to the engraver of the woodcuts. This preface is dedicated “A
moult reverende Abbesse de religieux Couuent S. Pierre de Lyon, Madame
Jehanne de Touszele, Salut dun vray Zele.” The convent of Saint Pierre
les Nonnains, of which Madame Jehanne was abbess, was a religious house
of long standing, among its inmates being many noble and wealthy ladies.
The author of this preface, who only signs it with his motto, “D’un vray
zelle,” was Jean de Vauzelles, Pastor of St. Romain and Prior of
Montrottier, poet and scholar, one of three famous brothers who took a
leading part in the literary life of Lyon. The passage referred to may
be translated as follows: “But to return to our figured representations
of Death, we have greatly to regret the death of him who has imagined
(_imaginé_) such elegant figures as are herein contained, as much
excelling all those heretofore printed (_patronées_) as the pictures of
Apelles or of Zeuxis surpass those of modern times; for his funereal
histories, with their gravely versified descriptions, excite such
admiration in beholders, that the figures of Death appear to them most
lifelike, while those of the living are the very pictures of mortality.
It therefore seems to me that Death, fearing that this excellent painter
(_painctre_) would paint him in a manner so lively, that he should be no
longer feared as Death, and apprehensive that the artist would thus
become immortal, determined to shorten his days, and thus prevent him
finishing other subjects which he had already drawn. Among these is one
of a waggoner, knocked down and crushed under his broken waggon, the
wheels and horses of which appear so frightfully shattered and maimed
that it is as fearful to see their overthrow as it is amusing to behold
the liquorishness of a figure of Death, who is perceived roguishly
sucking the wine out of a broken cask, by means of a reed. To such
imperfect subjects, as to the inimitable heavenly bow named Iris, no one
has ventured to put the last hand, on account of the bold drawing,
perspectives, and shadows contained in this inimitable chef d’œuvre,
there so gracefully delineated, that from it we may derive a pleasing
sadness and a melancholy pleasure, as in a thing mournfully
delightful.”[478]

[Sidenote: VAUZELLES’ PREFACE TO THE BOOK]

This passage is rather confusing, and at one time was supposed to refer
to the designer, and not to the engraver of the woodcuts, and that
Holbein, therefore, who was alive in 1538, could not have been the
author of the designs. Now, however, that more modern research has
proved that Lützelburger died in the summer of 1526, leaving several
blocks which had been commissioned by the Trechsels unfinished, it
becomes clear that Vauzelles, in his preface, is praising the
woodcutter, and not the artist. It is true that the word “painctre” is
used in one place, and that the term “imaginé” has been taken in the
modern sense by earlier writers, whereas it is from the Latin
“imaginatus” which has the same meaning as “sculptus.” In old French
“ymaginier” is the same as “tailleur d’images,” just as “sculptor” was
the common Latin expression for a stone-cutter or engraver. There is the
possibility that Vauzelles was ignorant of Holbein’s share in the work,
and imagined that both the designing and cutting of the blocks were the
work of one man; but this is not very probable, for in the same year the
Trechsels published the Old Testament woodcuts, also engraved by
Lützelburger, in a second edition of which, issued in the following
year, 1539, Holbein’s name as the designer is expressly mentioned in
Nicolas Bourbon’s Latin verses which were added to the volume. Bourbon
was in Lyon at the time, and in a new edition of his _Nugæ_, published
shortly afterwards, he included a Latin epigram, not given in the first
edition of 1533, headed, “De morte picta à Hanso pictore nobili,” which
undoubtedly refers to Holbein as the painter or deviser of the “Dance of
Death.” Taking these facts into consideration, it does not seem probable
that Vauzelles would have been ignorant of Holbein’s connection with the
work. In any case, the publishers must almost certainly have known it,
and it may be conjectured that Bourbon’s verses were written expressly
to accompany the “Dance,” just as his other lines were written for the
Old Testament woodcuts, but that for some reason they were not used for
that purpose.

Woltmann’s contention that Holbein’s name was purposely suppressed on
account of the satirical character of the pictures, and that the preface
was written with the intent to mystify, may be the correct solution.
Holbein’s interest, he says,[479] like that of the publisher, rendered
it desirable that they should appear anonymously. In Lyon every movement
towards the Reformation was zealously opposed by the bishop and the
authorities, and the bloody edict against heretics issued by Francis I
was put in force. Many of these pictures of Death, especially sheets
such as the Pope or the Nun, might have given offence to the strict
Catholic party. This would possibly have been all the more serious, had
the book appeared with the name of Holbein, who was at that time
residing at the court of the Protestant King of England, and was a
citizen of Basel, in Switzerland, from whence the new doctrines
emanated.

These arguments, however, as far as the suppression of Holbein’s name is
concerned, seem a little far-fetched. If certain of the woodcuts were
likely to give offence, it is difficult to see how such offence could be
removed by merely withholding the artist’s name. It is probable, as
already pointed out, that Holbein had no personal interest in the
publication either of the “Dance” or the Old Testament pictures, his
active co-operation in the work having ceased twelve years or more
earlier, when he had completed Lützelburger’s commission for the
designs; and under such circumstances it is not likely that the
Trechsels would have consulted him as to the use of his name or
otherwise. The most reasonable explanation seems to be that it was
omitted from the preface through an oversight or some confusion on the
part of Vauzelles as to the separate identities of the artist and
engraver, which the publisher did not consider was important enough to
rectify. If it was safe to issue the book, there was surely no need to
indulge in mysteries as to its authorship.

The book had an almost instantaneous success, and new editions followed
in the course of a few years. The second edition was issued in 1542 from
the same address, but by the brothers Frellon—“A Lyon, A lescu de
Coloigne, chez Jan et François Frellon, freres”—and it has been assumed
that the new publishers had acquired the business of the Trechsels. The
latter were Germans who had settled in Lyon, the father, Johann
Trechsel, having started business there as a printer in 1487. The
Frellons were equally well known in the town as publishers, and it is
probable that they had become the proprietors of the rival establishment
by 1538, and that the Trechsels were then only conducting the printing
under their orders, for the preface to the Old Testament pictures, first
published in that year, is signed by Franciscus “Frelläus,” and
subsequent editions of both publications bore the name of this firm. A
third edition, in Latin, was published in the same year, 1542, with the
title “Imagines de morte et epigrammata e Gallico idiomate in Latinum
translata,” &c. The fourth appeared in 1545, with the title, “Imagines
Mortis,” &c., in which Corrozet’s French verses under the cuts were
translated into Latin by George œmmel or Æmilius, Luther’s
brother-in-law. The only addition to the illustrations was a cut
representing a lame beggar, introduced as a tail-piece to one of the
discourses on death at the end of the book, but so poorly engraved that
it is difficult to trace Holbein’s hand in the design. A fifth edition
was issued in the same year, 1545, also under the title “Imagines
Mortis,” in which eleven new cuts were added to those which had appeared
in earlier editions, or twelve, counting the one of the “Lame Beggar.”
These new subjects were, “The Soldier,” “The Gamblers,” “The Drunkards,”
“The Fool,” “The Robber,” “The Blind Man,” “The Waggoner,” and four
subjects with naked children, in one of which they are represented as
hunters, in another they lead a horse upon which one of them is mounted,
bearing a standard, while in a third they are engaged in carrying one of
their comrades in triumph. These latter cuts have no real connection
with the subject-matter of the book, although French verses and Latin
texts were added to them in an endeavour to find one, however
far-fetched, but the designs are undoubtedly Holbein’s, and must have
been drawn by him on the blocks and cut by Lützelburger. It may be
conjectured that after the engraver’s death they were sent to Lyon with
other unfinished blocks which the Trechsels had ordered from him. Three
more editions were issued in 1547, the third of them with the title,
“Les Images de la Mort,” and the original French verses of the first
edition; and in 1549 a version was published with Italian title and
text. In the preface to the latter, Jehan Frellon, who was the sole
publisher from 1547 onwards, makes complaint of a pirated edition which
had been printed in Venice two years previously.

[Sidenote: LATER EDITIONS OF THE BOOK]

Further editions followed in 1554 and 1562, the number of illustrations
in the last-named being increased to fifty-eight by the addition of five
new cuts, thus making seventeen more pictures than had appeared in the
original edition of 1538. Two of these fresh illustrations, “The
Bridegroom” and “The Bride,” rightly belong to the series, and though
they made their first appearance nineteen years after Holbein’s death,
were undoubtedly drawn by him, and in all probability at the same time
as the other designs of the series, between 1523 and 1526. The remaining
additions consist of three more subjects with children, which again have
every appearance of the same authorship. In one of these they appear as
Bacchanalians, in another as musicians, and in the third they are
carrying a suit of Roman armour.

It is needless to enumerate the many editions which followed these
earlier ones. Inferior copies and pirated editions, in which much of the
beauty of the original woodcuts was lost, were numerous, and appeared in
many parts of Europe. The earliest copy was apparently the small folio,
entitled “Todtentantz,” printed at Augsburg in 1544, and published by
Jost de Negker.[480] In the following year appeared the pirated Venetian
copy. Five editions of a third version, with fifty-three cuts, were
published in Cologne between 1555 and 1573, while another copy appeared
at Wittemberg in 1590. Of the copperplate engravings copied from them
the most important were the set of thirty etched by Wenceslaus Hollar
between 1647 and 1651, which appear to be based not on one of the
original Lyon editions, but on the copy produced at Cologne. Forty-six
of the subjects were etched by David Deuchar in 1788, but these are of
very inferior workmanship, and mere caricatures of Holbein’s designs. In
1789 a free copy was cut by John Bewick, the younger brother of the more
famous Thomas, and published under the title of “Emblems of Mortality.”
Turning to more recent days, they were reproduced upon stone in 1832
with great care by Joseph Schlotthauer, Professor in the Academy of Fine
Arts at Munich; and these were re-issued in England by John Russell
Smith in 1849. The best modern wood engravings after them are those cut
by Bonner and John Byfield for Douce’s “Holbein’s Dance of Death” in
1833. The “Dance” has also been rendered in photo-lithography for an
edition issued by H. Noel Humphreys in 1868, and for the Holbein Society
in 1879. In 1886 Dr. F. Lippmann edited for Mr. Quaritch a set of
reproductions of the engraver’s proofs in the Berlin Museum; and the
_editio princeps_ has been facsimiled by one of the modern processes for
Hirth of Munich, as vol. x. of the Liebhaber-Bibliothek, 1884.[481]

[Sidenote: BEAUTY AND DRAMATIC FORCE]

These woodcuts are among the finest manifestations of Holbein’s art.
Small as they are, they have a largeness of design, a dramatic force and
fertility of invention, and a brilliance of draughtsmanship which place
them not only among the greatest achievements of the artist, but of the
century in which he worked. Each little picture tells its tale and
points its moral with the utmost clearness, and the interest never flags
throughout the series, although each one is merely a variation on a
single theme. Detail there is in plenty, but it does not confuse the
main action of the play, but rather helps to make the meaning which
underlies it still clearer. There is nowhere a line too much or too
little. The space to be filled is so small that these details are
minute, yet Holbein’s line is so broad, and his hand so unerring, that
nothing is confused or meaningless. The spacing of each cut is masterly,
so that they produce the effect of a great design set forth on some
spacious canvas. Few as the touches of the pencil may be, they are
sufficient to give each small figure its own individual appearance and
character, as though it were an actual portrait studied from the life,
while the action is natural and unexaggerated, and well expresses the
particular emotion called forth in each separate case by the sudden and
unexpected appearance of Death.

Death is represented throughout the series as a skeleton, occasionally
with scanty, tattered garments, and wearing the most characteristic
portions of the dress of the particular mortal he is about to snatch
from the world of the living. Thus, in the woodcut of the Pope, Death
wears a cardinal’s hat; in the Abbot he has a mitre on his head, and
carries a crosier across his shoulder; and in the Knight he is dressed
in chain mail. In two of the pictures, the Empress and the Nun, Death is
represented as a woman, and in several there are two skeletons who seize
or attend the victim. In his representation of them Holbein displays
little anatomical knowledge, but in spite of this the dead bones live,
and in their movements, their expression, and their suggestion of the
grim horror of death, produce an effect of vivid reality, which could
not be bettered even though he had thought fit to give them greater
scientific accuracy. In almost every case Death greets his prey with a
mocking, ironical grin, and in most instances, too, he comes quietly,
his presence unnoticed by those about to fall into his clutches; and
with natural, unexaggerated movements and actions he assumes the
principal part in the drama. In a few instances, however, he makes known
his presence in a more aggressive manner, and seizes his victims with
such violence that they cry aloud in terror or rage, and struggle to
break away from his merciless grip. The victims whom he treats in this
fashion are those who have themselves led violent lives. His action, in
short, is always appropriate to the character and worldly position of
those whose days he is about to cut short. He comes always as a mocker,
and the prevailing note of the whole series is one of irony.

The first four cuts form, as it were, a preface to the actual “Dance of
Death” which follows. The first of all represents the Creation. The
Almighty bends over Adam, who lies asleep on a small island amid the
waters, and draws Eve from his side. Then comes one of Adam and Eve in
Paradise. The serpent, with human head, is twined round the branches of
the tree, beneath which Adam is reaching up to pluck the fruit, while
Eve is seated below, leaning against a rock. All around them, as in the
first sheet, are animals—a stag, a sheep, a goat, a dog, a monkey, a
rabbit, a hedgehog, a lizard, and so on—while in the branches of the
beautifully drawn tree are a number of birds. The third cut represents
the Expulsion from Paradise, with the angel with the flaming sword
flying in a cloud over the heads of the guilty couple. In this cut Death
makes his first appearance. Playing upon his viol, he leads the way,
dancing as he goes. This is one of the few instances throughout the set
in which Holbein has so represented Death; in most of the illustrations
he does not follow at all closely the earlier wall-paintings, in which
the living and the dead are shown dancing together. In the next scene
Adam is at work clearing the rough ground, with Death at his side
helping him to uproot a tree, and Eve seated, half naked, in the
background, suckling her child, her distaff held across one arm. This is
followed by a design headed in the proof impressions “Gebeyn aller
Menschen” (Bones of all Men), a crowd of skeletons in front of a
charnel-house, with drums, trumpets, and other musical instruments, as
though forming the orchestra which is to provide the music for the play
which is about to follow. Some wear fantastic head-dresses, and their
winding-sheets still hang around them in tatters.

[Sidenote: THE EMPEROR, AND OTHERS]

The Dance opens with the Pope upon his throne, whom Death seizes as he
is about to place the crown upon the head of a king who kneels to kiss
his foot. Round him stand high dignitaries of the Church, among whom is
a second figure of Death, a mocking figure, wearing a cardinal’s hat
surmounted with a cross, and holding another cross aloft. In the curtain
over the throne lurks a small devil or demon, and a second, holding a
bull with five seals, flies over the heads of the ecclesiastics. In this
the satire is so bold that it was altered in some of the later editions
of the book. The Emperor (Pl. 66 (1)), too, sits on his throne,
underneath a baldachin supported by Renaissance pillars, the Golden
Fleece across his shoulders, the sword of justice in his hand, and the
orb on a cushion at his feet. He is surrounded by his counsellors, and
on the right a poor man kneels demanding justice. The Emperor, who bears
a recognisable likeness to Maximilian, turns from him with frowning face
towards the rich oppressor, who attempts, with little success, to excuse
himself. Death has sprung upon the throne behind the monarch, and is
about to tear the imperial crown from his head. On the ground is the
hour-glass, with the sand almost run out, which is introduced into
nearly all the pictures. The King (Pl. 66 (2)), who sits at table within
an open loggia, is evidently intended to represent Francis I. The face,
small as it is, has a strong resemblance to his portraits, and the
curtain behind his chair is patterned with the lilies of France. The
table is crowded with dishes, among which stands the hour-glass. Death
mingles with the serving-men, and pours wine from a jug into a bowl for
the King to drink. Between the pillars of the room can be seen the
houses of the city. The Cardinal (Pl. 66 (3)), a distinguished figure,
sits among the vine-trees, and, just as he presents a letter of
indulgence to a kneeling man, Death, a grisly figure with long wisps of
hair hanging from skull and chin, tears his hat from his head. Next
comes the Empress (Pl. 66 (4)), walking in the garden in front of her
palace, with her ladies of honour around her, one of whom bears her
train. Death, disguised as one of her women attendants, leads her by the
arm to the brink of an open grave, of which she and those with her are
quite unconscious. She is followed by the Queen, whom Death, in the
motley of a court jester, seizes by one hand, and drags away, while in
the other he holds his hour-glass aloft. She shrieks aloud in terror,
while the cavalier who accompanies her attempts to set her free, and her
maid-of-honour flings up her arms in despair. The scene takes place in
front of a Renaissance loggia, with open country and a village in the
distance.

The woodcut of the Bishop is one of the most beautiful of the designs.
Death takes the arm of the aged prelate and gently leads him away. It
illustrates the text: “I will smite the shepherd, and the sheep of the
flock shall be scattered abroad.” Behind the two chief actors the sheep
and their distracted shepherds are seen wandering in all directions. The
background is a very picturesque landscape with high mountains, on one
of which rises a castle, and the western sun, filling the sky with
light, is just sinking behind their crests. Next comes the Duke with his
retinue, of whom a poor woman with her child begs alms, and as he turns
his head away in refusal, Death, crowned with a wreath of vine-leaves,
reaches forward as though to pluck his ermine cape from his shoulders.
Underneath a tree, in the branches of which is placed the hour-glass,
the same grim skeleton, with mitre on head and crozier on shoulder,
seizes the fat Abbot by the robes, and pulls him after him, his victim
vainly protesting, and striving to hurl his breviary at his attacker’s
head. In similar fashion he drags along the Abbess by her scapulary from
the convent gateway with its little belfry. She cries aloud in her
terror, clutching her beads in her clasped and trembling hands, while
the porteress joins in her lamentations, raising her arms to heaven. The
Nobleman shows less fear when his time comes. He flourishes his long
sword over his head, and attempts at the same time to push away Death,
who drags him towards a bier on the ground with the hour-glass resting
upon it. In striking contrast to the violence of this scene is the
following one of the Canon or Prebendary, who is entering a church,
attended by his falconer, his jester, and his page. Death, wearing a
hood, walks quietly by his side, holding his hour-glass in front of him,
as though to show the worldly churchman, whose face is not visible, that
the sands have nearly run out. The unjust Judge stretches out his hand
to receive a bribe from the rich man, while the poor petitioner on the
other side is ignored; but Death, unnoticed, stands on a ledge behind
his chair and breaks in two the Judge’s staff. The next picture harps
upon the same theme. The Advocate (Pl. 66 (5)) is receiving his fee from
a wealthy citizen whom he has helped in despoiling a poor man, who
stands with clasped hands in the background. Death thrusts himself
between them, hour-glass held aloft, and drops into the Advocate’s open
hand a few gold coins. The action takes place in a street of gabled
houses and cobbled pavements, a transcript of a corner of Basel of
Holbein’s own day. The Counsellor (Pl. 66 (6)), in his furred gown and
cap, is also shown in the street, deep in consultation with a nobleman,
and oblivious to the entreaties of a man clad in rags, who, hat in hand,
touches him on the shoulder to attract his attention. Perched upon the
Advocate’s back, a little winged devil with curly tail blows into his
ear with a small pair of bellows; while Death, as a sexton, lies at his
feet, with spade and hour-glass, ready to trip him up.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 66.


[Illustration:

  THE DANCE OF DEATH WOODCUTS

  1. THE EMPEROR

  2. THE KING

  3. THE CARDINAL

  4. THE EMPRESS

  _From proofs in the British Museum_
]

[Illustration:

  5. THE ADVOCATE

  6. THE COUNSELLOR

  7. THE PREACHER

  8. THE PRIEST

  _From proofs in the British Museum_
]

[Sidenote: PREACHER, PRIEST, NUN, AND OTHERS]

One of the most beautiful designs of the series shows the Preacher (Pl.
66 (7)) in his pulpit, expounding a false doctrine which he believes to
be the true one, his hands held forth in exhortation. Behind him stands
the other preacher, Death, wearing a stole, and with a jaw-bone upraised
over the unheeding victim’s head as though about to strike him down. The
members of his congregation, some standing, some seated on low stools,
gaze upwards with close attention, except one who has fallen asleep with
his head against the pulpit base. Both the preacher and several of his
listeners, especially the woman seated in the front on the right, are
very expressive figures, and are drawn with masterly precision. Next
comes the Priest (Pl. 66 (8)), one of the few of Death’s victims whom
Holbein has depicted without a touch of irony or satire. He passes along
the street in his robes, bearing the sacrament to the bedside of some
dying man, preceded by Death, who acts as his sacristan, with bell and
lantern, his hour-glass tucked under his arm. Very different is Death’s
treatment of the Mendicant Friar, whom he seizes roughly by the hood,
just as he is about to enter his monastery with well-filled box and
begging-bag. There is bitter satire, too, in the picture of the Nun,
kneeling in front of the altar in her cell, but her head turned behind
her towards the young gallant who sits on the edge of her bed and plays
his lute. Behind them Death, in the guise of an old hag, stretches forth
a hand to extinguish the altar candles. Two skeletons accompany the Old
Woman, who totters along a rough road by the aid of a stick, telling her
rosary as she goes. One of them dances in front, playing with two sticks
a musical instrument slung from his shoulders, while the other, crowned
with a wreath, and a malicious grin upon his fleshless face, takes her
by the arm, and dances by her side.

To the Physician in his chamber Death leads an old man broken down in
health, and at the same time warns him that his hour, too, has come. A
dog is curled up asleep in the foreground, and over the Physician’s head
is a shelf with books and glass water-bottles as in Holbein’s portrait
of Erasmus in Longford Castle. The setting of the Astrologer is one of
the most effective and elaborate of the series. His chair and the
circular table, covered with books and mathematical instruments, at
which he sits, are richly carved and ornamented. He is gazing at a
celestial globe which hangs over his head, while Death strives to
attract his attention by holding a skull for his inspection. The Rich
Man, in a gloomy chamber with a window with heavy double bars, sits
surrounded by his money-chests and bags, a heap of gold spread before
him on the table. He springs up in a fury of anger at the sight of
Death, perched on a stool and filling a large bowl with money from the
heap. It is as bitter to him to lose his wealth as his life. Equally
furious is the feeling displayed by the Merchant, upon whom Death
pounces, seizing him by both hair and cloak, at the moment when he is
examining and checking his bales and barrels of merchandise which have
just been unshipped on the quay. A companion, a bearded man, cries out
in fear, with uplifted hands. Behind them the masts and spars of the
ships in the harbour stand out against the sky. Terror, too, is the
keynote of the Mariner. The storm is raging violently, the wind howls,
and the waves dash over the ship. The greater part of the sail has blown
away, and the sailors have abandoned all hope, and wring their hands in
terror, as Death clambers over the side and snaps the mast in two.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 67.


[Illustration:

  THE DANCE OF DEATH WOODCUTS

  1. THE OLD MAN

  2. THE COUNTESS

  3. THE NOBLE LADY

  4. THE DUCHESS

  _From proofs in the British Museum_
]

[Illustration:

  5. THE PLOUGHMAN

  6. THE YOUNG CHILD

  7. THE LAST JUDGMENT

  8. THE ARMS OF DEATH

  _From proofs in the British Museum_
]

[Sidenote: THE DUCHESS, AND OTHERS]

Some of the finest designs are to be found among the remaining woodcuts.
Death, clad in chain mail, runs a lance through the body of the Knight,
a man in full armour, with huge plumes in his helmet, who gives a last
despairing cry and attempts to strike down his enemy with his sword. A
low-lying landscape stretches out in the distance, lit up by the rays of
the fast-sinking sun. The Count has little of the Knight’s bravery. He
clasps his hands in terror as Death, disguised as a peasant, with his
flail flung on the ground, prepares to strike him down with his own
heraldic escutcheon. On the other hand, the Old Man (Pl. 67 (1)), bent
with the weight of years, tottering down his garden with the help of a
thick stick, finds in Death nothing but a kindly companion, who leads
him gently by the hand to the edge of a deep grave dug in the turf,
while with the other hand he plays a dulcimer. The Countess (Pl. 67 (2))
in her chamber, to whom her maid is handing a sumptuous dress, is helped
in her toilet by Death, who fixes round her shoulders a necklace of dead
men’s bones. The Nobleman’s Wife (Pl. 67 (3)) walks along hand in hand
with her husband, who gazes on her with affection, oblivious to all
else, while a grinning skeleton precedes them, beating vigorously on his
drum. The woodcut of the Duchess (Pl. 67 (4)) is the one which
Lützelburger has signed with his initials in an escutcheon on the foot
of the bedpost. The lady, fully dressed, springs up from her sleep in
fright, as Death at the end of the bed tears the coverlet from her. A
second skeleton plays the fiddle, while her greyhound crouches terrified
on the floor. Death is also accompanied by a music-making comrade when
he encounters the Pedlar with his heavily-laden pack on his back, and
clutches him by the sleeve.

Once again he comes in the guise of a friend to the old and weary
Ploughman (Pl. 67 (5)), in rags and barefooted, his hair straggling
through his broken hat. Death helps him in ploughing the last furrow,
and flogs forward the worn-out team of thin and miserable horses. At the
end of the field with its long ploughed lines a delightful landscape
lies stretched, with the houses of a village nestling among the trees,
the church tower rising from the hillside on one of the lower spurs of
the Swiss mountains, the whole peaceful scene flooded with the light of
the setting sun. This background is, perhaps, the most beautiful of all,
and yet its lovely effect is produced with the simplest means. The long
list of Death’s victims concludes with the Young Child (Pl. 67 (6)),
whom he leads by the hand through the doorway of a miserable,
half-ruined cottage, with broken roof open to all weathers. The child
turns back in terror, its free hand stretched towards its mother, who
kneels stirring the pot on the scanty fire, the smoke of which half
fills the room. Both she and an older child gaze after the little one
with mouth wide open in astonishment and fear, and hands uplifted to
head. The original series concludes with two cuts, one representing the
Last Judgment (Pl. 67 (7)), with Christ enthroned on the rainbow over
the celestial globe, with the saints around him, and down below a crowd
of men and women newly risen from the grave; and the other showing the
Arms of Death (Pl. 67 (8)), which recalls, in its arrangement, more than
one of Holbein’s designs for painted glass. The shield, on which is
placed a skull, with a worm hanging from its jaws, is shattered and torn
in places, as though fashioned from a great bone which has mouldered in
the grave. A tattered winding-sheet is draped round it, and it is
surmounted by a helmet with an hour-glass for a crest, from the base of
which two skeleton arms grasping a large stone are raised aloft. The
supporters are a man and woman in the rich costume of Holbein’s day,
each of whom rests a hand on the escutcheon, the latter gazing down at
it, while the former points to the skeleton arms and looks towards the
spectator as though to urge him to remember that death is the end of all
things. In the background rise the peaks of the Alps beneath a cloudy
sky. Dr. Woltmann saw in these two figures likenesses of Holbein and his
wife, but they evidently represent personages in a higher sphere of
life.

[Sidenote: THE WAGGONER AND OTHERS]

The eight additional subjects which were included in the edition of 1545
were, with possibly one exception, designed by Holbein, and it seems
almost certain that the cutting of most, if not all, of the blocks had
been begun by Lützelburger, and that they were sent to Lyon after his
death in 1526, as part of the commission he had received from the
Trechsels. The first of them represents the Soldier, who is attacking
Death with his two-handed sword. The latter is armed with a great bone
and a circular shield. The ground beneath them is strewn with the dead
and dying, and over the hills in the background comes rushing a body of
soldiers, with a second skeleton beating a drum as he leads the charge.
Next we have the Gamester, seated at table with two comrades. Death
clutches him by the throat, and a devil seizes him by the hair. One of
the party is counting his gains, and cards are strewn over the floor.
This is followed by the Drunkard, a scene with men and women in the
middle of a disorderly carouse, among whom Death stalks, and, pulling
back the head of one of them, a gross and bloated old man, pours wine
down his throat from a tankard. The Fool dances over the rough ground,
one finger in his mouth, and a long bladder grasped in the other hand,
as though about to strike at Death, who, falling into his humour, dances
by his side to the music of the bagpipes he is playing. The Robber,
hidden in the recesses of a wood, is springing from behind the trees in
order to snatch the market-basket from the head of a barefooted woman
who passes by as night is falling, but Death has him by the neck before
he can accomplish his purpose. In the next scene he is leading the Blind
Man by his stick towards the water into which the next step or two will
plunge him; and then comes the Waggoner, the woodcut which in the
preface is mentioned by name as the one which the engraver left
unfinished. Vauzelles’ description of it is not in complete accord with
the finished block. The driver is not crushed beneath his waggon, but
stands with hands clasped over his head, and a look of mingled fear and
consternation on his face. The horse within the shafts has fallen on the
side of a steep hill, and the cart with its great barrels is overturned.
Death springs up behind, and untwists the stick by which the cord which
fastens the barrel is kept taut. A second skeleton carries away one of
the waggon wheels, which has been broken off. The concluding design
shows the Beggar, lame and blind, and almost nude, seated among the
straw and rubbish in front of some rich man’s house, his hands raised as
though imploring Death to come for him; but he is the only one from whom
Death keeps aloof. This block, as already noted, is so badly cut that it
is not easy to say with certainty whether Holbein was the designer of
it. In the “Young Wife” of the 1562 edition, Death is dancing as he
leads her away in tears, while they are preceded by a gaily dressed
gallant who plays a guitar. In the companion cut, Death also dances, and
blows a trumpet, as he drags off the “Young Husband” by the corner of
his cloak. In the background is a ruined building.

It would be difficult to find a happier partnership than that which
existed between the designer and the engraver of this great Dance.
Lützelburger has reproduced Holbein’s dramatic story with the utmost
sympathy and understanding, and from a technical point of view the
cutting comes as near perfection as possible. Holbein’s delicate and
expressive line is retained almost unimpaired, and there is no
pretentious elaboration of detail merely to show the skill of the
woodcutter. With the simplest methods—with sparing use of cross-hatching
for the indication of light and shade—methods best suited to the
material used, the most beautiful results have been obtained, for which
designer and engraver must share the praise. So admirably are these cuts
executed, says Chatto, “with so much feeling and with so much knowledge
of the capabilities of the art, that I do not think any wood-engraver of
the present time is capable of surpassing them. The manner in which they
are engraved is comparatively simple: there is no laboured and
unnecessary cross-hatching where the same effect might be obtained by
simpler means; no display of fine work merely to show the artist’s
talent in cutting delicate lines. Every line is expressive; and the end
is always obtained by the simplest means. In this the talent and feeling
of the engraver are chiefly displayed. He wastes not his time in mere
mechanical execution—which in the present day is often mistaken for
excellence;—he endeavours to give to each character its appropriate
expression; and in this he appears to have succeeded better, considering
the small size of the cuts, than any other wood-engraver, either of
times past or present.”[482]

In this great work “in little” Holbein’s imagination found its fullest
and most expressive play, and it is small wonder, therefore, that the
Dance soon gained a wide popularity. Almost from the beginning it
appears to have been well known as Holbein’s work, and numerous
references to it occur in contemporary literature. The learned Conrad
Gesner, of Zürich, a younger contemporary of the artist, expressly
ascribes it to him in his _Partitiones Theologicæ_, &c., published in
1549. The passage runs: “Imagines Mortis expressæ ab optimo pictore
Johanne Holbein cum epigrammatibus Georgii Æmylii, excusæ Francofurti et
Lugduni apud Frellonios, quorum editio plures habet picturas. Vidi etiam
cum metris Gallicis et Germanicis, si bene memini.” Van Mander, whose
_Het Schilder Boek_ was first published in 1604, includes the Dance
among Holbein’s works; and Joachim von Sandrart, in his Life of the
artist, tells a charming story which indicates in how high an estimation
Holbein’s designs were held just one hundred years after he drew them on
the wood. Sandrart, who was a pupil of Gerard Honthorst at Utrecht,
says: “I remember that in the year 1627, when the celebrated Rubens was
proceeding to Utrecht to visit Honthorst, I accompanied him as far as
Amsterdam; and during our passage in the boat I looked into Holbein’s
little book of the _Dance of Death_, the cuts of which Rubens highly
praised, recommending me, as I was a young man, to copy them, observing
that he had copied them himself in his youth.” Sandrart was then a young
man of twenty, and was on his way to England with his master. “And after
this,” he adds, “Rubens held a beautiful and laudatory discourse almost
the whole way upon Holbein, Dürer, and other old German painters.”[483]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 68.


[Illustration]

[Illustration]

[Illustration:

  THE DANCE OF DEATH ALPHABET

  _From proof in the Royal Print Cabinet, Dresden_
]

[Sidenote: THE “DANCE OF DEATH” ALPHABET]

Holbein’s Alphabet of Death (Pl. 68),[484] also engraved by
Lützelburger, displays all the inventive power and dramatic feeling of
the larger Dance. These diminutive inch-square letters show the
engraver’s wonderful delicacy of cutting, and his power of reproducing
the artist’s designs in almost their full beauty and force. Much of the
space in each one of them is occupied by the plain Roman letter itself,
behind which the subject is arranged, and Holbein has succeeded in
placing his minute figures so ingeniously that the action is not
concealed by the letters to an extent detrimental to the clearness of
the story. Isolated examples of the use of these letters in printed
books occur as early as 1524, the letter N appearing in the Greek New
Testament issued by Bebelius in that year, and a number of them are to
be found in the publications of several Basel printers from 1525
onwards. This proves that the Alphabet was designed at about the same
time, if not before, the Dance. The subjects of the twenty-four letters
(J and U are not included) are, with few exceptions, the same as in the
larger woodcuts, although in most cases they are treated differently. It
is possible that Holbein, in drawing these letters on the blocks, became
so fascinated with his theme, and delighted with the skill of his
engraver, that he determined to carry it still further, and on a more
important scale, in which the play of his poetic and ironic fancy could
find even wider scope, without the hampering presence of the letters
themselves. The backgrounds of the Alphabet are plain, but in the more
than quadrupled space which the size of the Dance woodcuts permitted, he
was able to add many details which helped to point his moral and tell
his tale more vividly, and also those wonderful backgrounds, landscapes,
street scenes, the interiors of palaces, offices, and hovels, which form
so charming and characteristic a part of each little picture.

The smaller series begins, like the Dance, with the concourse of
skeletons playing weird music for the dancers who follow, from the Pope
in the letter B down to the Young Child in the letter Y. In certain
instances, such as the Bishop (H), the Monk (O), the Soldier (P), the
Fool (R), and the Gamblers (X), the action has a close resemblance to
that in the cuts dealing with the same characters in the Dance, though
differing in slight details. Thus the Fool in the Alphabet wears cap and
bells, and Death, instead of dancing with him and playing the pipes, is
seizing him violently by the shoulder. In a number of the letters two
skeletons are shown, and they are occasionally aided by a small devil.
The little child is torn from the cradle in the sight of its agonised
mother, the Queen is dragged away by a rope round her neck, the Nun is
led off gently by the hand, with head downcast, and the Drunkard, prone
on the ground, has his last draught poured roughly down his throat,
while the second skeleton seizes him by the leg as though to pull him
up. Three new subjects are introduced into the series: the Courtesan,
whom Death, wearing the high hat of a gallant, closely embraces, while
his companion crawls away on his hands and knees, the hour-glass
balanced grotesquely on his back; the Hermit, who is led gently from his
cell, and the Horseman, behind whose back Death has sprung. The letter Z
contains a reproduction of the Last Judgment conceived in a similar
fashion to the woodcut of the Dance. The inclusion in this Alphabet of
the Fool, the Soldier, and the Gamblers, who appear for the first time
in the 1545 edition of the Dance, after the death of both artist and
engraver, and the similarity of the conception in both series, afford
further proof that the new subjects added to the Dance seven years after
it was first published were drawn by Holbein on the blocks, although
portions of the cutting of them were probably the work of some other
hand than Lützelburger’s.

[Sidenote: EARLY EDITIONS OF THE WOODCUTS]

The third great work in which these two masters collaborated was the
series of woodcut illustrations to the Old Testament,[485] first
published, like the Dance of Death, at Lyon by the brothers Trechsel,
and in the same year, 1538. The total number of these woodcuts is
ninety-one, but the whole of them are not included in the earlier
editions. The first issue (1538) contains eighty-eight of them, the rare
“Fall” (1), “Nathan rebuking David” (40), and “Isaiah lamenting over
Jerusalem” (72) being absent. In the second edition (1539) only the
first of the series, “The Fall” is missing. In addition to these
illustrations, the first four woodcuts of the “Dance of Death”—the
Creation, the Temptation, the Expulsion, and Adam tilling the
Ground—were borrowed from that publication, and placed at the beginning
of the new one. The Bible cuts, which vary slightly in their dimensions,
are of different form, being oblong and almost double the size of those
of the Dance. They were issued as a small quarto picture-book, instead
of being included, as was probably the artist’s or the engraver’s
original intention, as illustrations to an edition of the Bible. In the
same year, however, as the first issue of the book, they were used for
the latter purpose, the complete set of ninety-one appearing in a Latin
edition of the Bible produced by another Lyon printer, Hugo a Porta,
though with the imprint of the Trechsels. The title of the first edition
is as follows: “Historiarum veteris Instrumenti Icones ad vivum
expressæ. Una cum brevi sed quoad fieri potuit, dilucida earundem
expositione. Lugduni, sub scuto Coloniensi. M.D.XXXVIII.” The title-page
contains an emblematic cut almost exactly similar to the one in the
Dance, and with the same motto, “Usus me genuit.” The imprint at the end
is also the same, with the names of Melchior and Gaspar Trechsel, and
the date. The address to the reader is signed “Franciscus Frellæus” in
the first two editions, but in subsequent issues the surname was given
as “Frellonius.” This seems to indicate that the Frellons were already
associated with the Trechsels in the business, of which they shortly
afterwards obtained full control, the third edition (1543) of the Old
Testament illustrations being published in their name, “apud Joannem et
Franciscum Frellonios fratres,” and from the same address, “sub scuto
Coloniensi.” Chatto[486] suggests that they were the actual publishers
of the first editions of both the Bible cuts and the Dance, but for
reasons of policy, connected with the satirical nature of the
subject-matter of the designs, their names were withheld until the
success of the two publications was assured. There is no mention of
Holbein’s name in the first edition, but a year later, in the second,
the publisher’s address is followed by a set of Latin verses by
Holbein’s friend, Nicolas Bourbon, the French poet, in which the
artist’s name, as the author of these designs, is coupled with Apelles,
Zeuxis, and other famous painters of classical times, whom he is said in
all ways to eclipse. Other verses in French were added, from the pen of
Gilles Corrozet, which form more or less a rhyming paraphrase of
Frellon’s address, in which the reader is exhorted to avoid seductive
paintings of Venus, Diana, Helen, Dido, and other ladies celebrated in
fable and poetry, and to turn instead to those sacred pictures taken
from the Holy Scriptures, from the study of which far greater profit is
to be obtained. Corrozet, no doubt, was also responsible for the French
explanatory verse which, together with the appropriate Latin text,
accompanied each woodcut, just as he was the author of the “descriptions
severement rithmées” of the Dance of Death. There is no need to give a
list of the later editions, which are almost as numerous as those of the
Dance. An English edition was published in 1549, with the title—“The
Images of the old Testament, lately expressed, set forthe in Ynglishe
and Frenche with a playn and brief exposition. Printed at Lyons by Johin
Frellon, the yere of our Lord God, 1549.”

These illustrations were drawn on the blocks by Holbein at about the
same date as the Dance of Death pictures. This is proved not only from
the fact that a number of them were engraved by Lützelburger, and that
in style and composition they closely resemble the “Todtentanz” and
other Basel designs by Holbein before his departure for England in 1526,
but also because copies of more than half of them are to be found in the
Bible published by Froschover in Zürich in 1531, showing that at least
proofs of them were well known among Swiss publishers long before they
were issued in book form in Lyon. There is a proof impression of the
whole series in the Basel Gallery, on sheets printed only on one side,
which was probably struck off immediately after the blocks were
completed. It begins with the very rare “Fall,” which otherwise only
appears in Hugo a Porta’s Bible of 1538, being missing in all editions
in which the pictures appear alone, its place being taken in the latter
by the four introductory sheets borrowed from the Dance of Death. The
two other woodcuts already noted as missing from the first edition (Nos.
40 and 72), and absent, too, from the Latin Bible, are also to be found
among the Basel proof impressions. In one instance, the “David and
Uriah” (No. 39) there are two versions among these proofs, in one of
which a background of wall, window, and curtain is introduced, but so
badly engraved that it was evidently decided to abandon or alter the
block in favour of the second version, in which the two figures are
shown against a plain, white surface.

A large number of the illustrations were engraved by Lützelburger, but
side by side with them are others which are the work of a far less
skilful hand or hands. In one or two instances, such as the “Joel” (No.
86) and the “Zechariah” (No. 90), the workmanship is so rude that it is
difficult to say with certainty that they are based on Holbein’s own
designs. Woltmann suggests that these woodcuts were originally
commissioned by Adam Petri, with the intention of using them to
illustrate later editions of his German Old Testament, but that on
account of the acute religious strife which then existed in Basel, it
was thought advisable to hold them in reserve.[487] Even though
Holbein’s name had been withheld from these designs, as it was from the
Dance of Death, his authorship of them would still remain undoubted, for
in style and method they are in exact agreement with the Dance woodcuts,
and certain of the figures recall the still earlier “Praise of Folly”
drawings. The children in some of these Bible cuts, such as those who
jeer at the Fool (No. 69, Psalm lii.), those among the captive
Midianites (No. 26, Numbers xxxi.), and those mocking Elisha (No. 47, 2
Kings ii.), all delightfully sympathetic little figures, have the
closest resemblance to the children in the Duke or Elector, and the
Young Child woodcuts of the Dance. The same resemblances are to be seen
between many of the other figures, some of which still retain that
stumpiness which marked his delineation of the human form at that time,
and in the minor details, such as the representation of smoke and water,
of trees, and in the landscape backgrounds. In the cut of Esther
kneeling before Ahasuerus (No. 65, Esther ii.), the curtain at the back
of the King’s throne is covered with fleurs-de-lis, as in the
representation of the King in the other series, showing that when
kingship was in question Holbein’s thoughts turned to Francis I, as the
most notable monarch of his day. Many other instances of resemblance can
be easily perceived when a close comparison of the two sets of designs
is made.

[Sidenote: THEIR EXCELLENCE AS ILLUSTRATIONS]

Regarded as illustrations to the books of the Old Testament, these
woodcuts are in all ways admirable. Holbein has brought to their making
less of that imaginative power and biting humour which characterise the
marvellous little pictures of the great Dance. He has concentrated his
skill rather upon the faithful and accurate telling of these sacred
stories as they are given in the text itself, and he does this with a
perfect understanding of their strong dramatic power and their equally
strong human interest. They are historical rather than spiritual in
their conception, filled with the actual spirit of the narrative itself,
to the exclusion of all else. He is revealed in them as a teller of
stories of the first rank, with the power of seizing the most dramatic
moment of each incident he depicts with unfailing instinct, and then
representing it with a few unerring strokes of his pencil clearly and
simply, with no over-elaboration of needless detail or overcrowding of
characters. All that is absolutely necessary he gives, and no more; but
within these narrow limits, a space only of a few square inches, he
produced a series of designs admirable in composition, dignified and
noble in conception, and yet free and dramatic in action.[488]

It is impossible within the limits of this book to attempt even a short
description of these illustrations. Among the finest are Abraham
sacrificing Isaac (No. 5), Jacob blessing Ephraim and Manasseh (No. 9)
(Pl. 69 (1)), Moses and the Burning Bush (No. 11), the Brazen Serpent
(No. 25), the Submission of the Midianites (No. 26), Ruth and Boaz (No.
32) (Pl. 69 (2)), Hannah and Elkanah (No. 33), the Death of Jeroboam’s
Son (No. 45), Elisha and the Children (No. 47), David before the Ark
(No. 53), Solomon blessing the Faithful (No. 55), the Blinding of Tobit
(No. 61), Job (No. 62), Esther and Ahasuerus (No. 65), Judith with the
Head of Holofernes (No. 67) (Pl. 69 (3)), Daniel in the Lion’s Den (No.
84), Amos (No. 87) (Pl. 69 (4)), and Jonah under the Walls of Nineveh
(No. 88). Considerable charm is added to a number of them by the beauty
of the landscape or architectural background, put in with a few simple
but masterly lines, as in the Burning Bush (No. 11), in which Moses
kneels to unfasten his shoes, his sheep grazing round him; in Moses
receiving the Commandments (No. 21) (Pl. 70 (1)), with the people at
work in the vineyards, and in the distance a harvest waggon passing
along a road towards a village on the plain; and in the walled city of
Jerusalem with the Temple rising in its midst, in the Return from the
Captivity (No. 58) (Pl. 70 (2)). Many others could be cited, as well as
subjects containing dramatic battle scenes, recalling the masterly study
of a fight of landsknechte in the Basel Gallery which has been described
on a previous page.[489] This is particularly the case in the cut
showing the Defeat of Sennacherib’s Army (No. 57). Other animated battle
scenes occur in David learning of the Death of Saul (No. 37), and David
triumphing over the Philistines (No. 38).


                           VOL. I., PLATE 69.

                         OLD TESTAMENT WOODCUTS


[Illustration:

  1. JACOB BLESSING EPHRAIM AND MANASSEH

  2. RUTH AND BOAZ

  _From proofs in the British Museum_
]

[Illustration:

  3. JUDITH WITH THE HEAD OF HOLOFERNES

  4. AMOS PREACHING

  _From proofs in the British Museum_
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 70.

                         OLD TESTAMENT WOODCUTS


[Illustration:

  1. MOSES RECEIVING THE TABLES OF THE LAW

  2. THE RETURN FROM THE BABYLONIAN CAPTIVITY

  _From proofs in the British Museum_
]


[Illustration:

  3. THE ANGEL SHOWING ST. JOHN THE NEW JERUSALEM
  Revelation xxi.
  Woodcut from Adam Petri’s New Testament, 1523

  _From a copy in the British Museum_
]

[Sidenote: THE OLD TESTAMENT ALPHABET]

Holbein also went to the Old Testament for the subjects of an Alphabet
of twenty-four letters, engraved on metal, and of considerable
size.[490] They begin with the Creation of Eve, and conclude with
Jacob’s journey into Egypt. The letters N to Y are occupied with the
story of Joseph, which is thus given in considerable detail. In the
letter O, representing Joseph and Potiphar’s wife, the bed on which the
latter sits has curtains ornamented with the French lilies.


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                               CHAPTER XI

            THE MEYER MADONNA AND THE DEPARTURE FOR ENGLAND

Commission from Jakob Meyer for the “Meyer Madonna”—Description of the
  picture at Darmstadt—Preliminary studies for the heads—The copy at
  Dresden—History of the two pictures—Magdalena Offenburg and the “Lais
  Corinthiaca” and “Venus”—Lack of work in Basel owing to the disturbed
  state of the city—Holbein’s departure for England.


THE year 1526 was by no means a favourable one for the members of the
Basel guild of painters, although, in all probability, it was in this
very year that Holbein received one of his most important commissions,
the famous altar-piece known as the “Meyer Madonna,” now in the
Grand-ducal palace of Darmstadt, in the possession of the Grand Duke of
Hesse. At this period ecclesiastical dissension had reached its acutest
pitch, and party feeling ran so high that there was little time or
inclination among the leading citizens for the patronage or even the
consideration of the fine arts. The Reformers, then in the ascendant in
the control of public affairs, were strongly opposed to all forms of
pictorial or decorative art for church use, and it was this side of the
painter’s craft which, until then, had been the most lucrative. Times,
indeed, were so bad for them that in January of this year the Painters’
Guild had been forced to petition the Council for permission to remain
in Basel in the pursuit of their art in order that they might obtain
means for the support of their families. Holbein, in spite of his
outstanding merits and the high reputation he had made for himself in
his adopted city, felt the pinch of adverse circumstances almost as
severely as his brother painters. The authorities, unwilling,
apparently, to complete the decorations of the Town Hall, had no
remunerative work to give him. From November 1523, when he received the
last instalment of his money for his wall-paintings in that building,
down to the beginning of 1526 there is no record of any civic payment
made to him. On the 3rd of March, however, in the latter year, he
received the meagre sum of two Basel pounds ten shillings, about equal
to two gulden, for the painting of some shields or coats of arms for the
borough of Waldenburg, a township on the slopes of the Jura within the
jurisdiction of Basel, no doubt for the decoration of the court of
justice or public hall of that place. The entry runs as follows:
“Sampstag nach Reminiscere, 1526: Item ij ll. x sh. geben Holbein dem
moler, für etliche schilt am stettlin Waldenburg vergangener Iaren
zemolen.”[491] Unimportant commissions of this nature cannot have been
of much help in keeping the wolf from the door, and that he was willing
to undertake such mere journeyman’s work, in which his splendid talents
could have little opportunity for their full display, affords proof that
for the time being an artist’s life in Switzerland was a very precarious
one.

[Sidenote: MEYER’S COMMISSION FOR A PICTURE]

Happily for him, at about this time his old patron Jakob Meyer “zum
Hasen” gave him a commission for a votive picture, in which he and the
members of his family were to be represented as kneeling in adoration
under the direct protection of the Virgin Mary, a work in the painting
of which his genius found complete expression.[492] Meyer, who since
1521 had been removed from all public offices, was a thorough-going
adherent of the old religion, and the party to which he belonged was by
this time in the minority; but his sturdy belief remained unshaken, and
in 1529, immediately before the fiercest iconoclastic outburst in the
city, he was at the head of the Catholic party. At the time when the
greater number of his fellow-citizens were beginning to view with
disfavour all sacred paintings, he proved that he had the courage of his
convictions by ordering this picture, in which his faith was very
plainly expressed. It is doubtful whether it was intended to be placed
over an altar in some chapel in one of the Basel churches, or to be hung
in Meyer’s own house, but in either case it was a definite public
profession of his faith.

The figures in the picture (Pl. 71) are about three-quarters of the size
of life. The Virgin is not represented on her throne, but stands amid
the donor’s family as the Mother of Grace, her mantle spread over them
as a sign of her protection. Holbein has placed her in the centre of the
composition in front of a shallow niche with a circular arch, fluted
like a shell, against which her head is relieved. In her arms she clasps
the Infant Christ, whose head rests against her shoulder, his left arm
outstretched over the kneeling suppliants below as though in
benediction. The edge of her cloak falls over the shoulders of Meyer,
who kneels on the left, with hands clasped, gazing upwards in
adoration.[493] In front of him kneels his elder son, a youth of about
sixteen, whose attention is diverted from his prayers by his small
brother, a little naked boy with curly hair, standing upright on the
Turkey carpet which is placed beneath the group, whom he is holding with
both hands. The child stands, with left arm outstretched, gazing at his
open palm. On the right-hand side is a group of three kneeling women,
Meyer’s second wife, Dorothea Kannengiesser von Tann, with her daughter
Anna in front of her, and, next to the Virgin, a third woman who has
been taken to represent either the Burgomaster’s first wife, Magdalena
Baer, who died in 1511, and was a widow when he married her, or her
daughter by her earlier marriage. It has been also suggested that the
figure represents Meyer’s mother, or his mother-in-law, but it is most
probable that it is a portrait of his first wife, for it was by no means
unusual at that time to combine both the living and the dead in such a
votive picture.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 71.


[Illustration:

  THE MEYER MADONNA
  DARMSTADT
]

[Sidenote: DESCRIPTION OF THE PICTURE]

This picture is Holbein’s greatest masterpiece of sacred painting, noble
and dignified in feeling and composition, remarkable for the direct and
striking veracity of its portraiture, and the splendour of its rich,
subdued colour. There is extraordinary expression in Meyer’s head, with
its rapt, tense look, in which the depth of his faith is clearly
portrayed. His ruddy complexion and blue shaven chin form a strong
colour contrast with the fresher, paler flesh tints of his two sons, in
whom the likeness to the father can be plainly traced. There is an equal
contrast, too, between the face of the living wife, energetic and
capable, and that of the other woman, seen in profile, whose features
are nearly concealed by the white hood and the chin band she is wearing,
giving almost the appearance of grave-clothes, though it was a
head-dress then in common use, as can be seen from a number of Holbein’s
book illustrations. In the Virgin’s face, with its downcast eyes, there
is a look of heavenly tranquillity. Her complexion is fair, and her
cheeks have a rosy tinge. She wears a golden crown set with pearls and
precious stones, below which her golden hair falls upon her shoulders
and over her mantle, and is painted with all Holbein’s minute care and
complete technical mastery. The pale, delicate flesh tints are continued
in the body of the Infant Christ and in the hands of his mother, the two
heads forming a lovely chord of colour in perfect harmony with the
reddish marble and grey stone of the niche against which they are set.
The Virgin’s dress is dark blue, which has turned almost green with the
passing of time, with under-sleeves of gold, in the painting of which
actual gold has been used, as also in the crown, and in Anna Meyer’s
head-dress and other ornamental parts of the picture. Her girdle is red,
and her mantle a greenish grey. Meyer’s hair is black, and his black
surcoat is lined with light-brown fur. The kneeling boy wears a dress of
light brown trimmed with bands of dark red velvet, and red hose, and
from his belt hangs an elaborate purse with long blue tassels. The
colouring of the group on the spectator’s right is largely black and
white. The two elder women are in black, with plain white head-dresses.
The daughter’s dress is also white, decorated with deep bands of gold
material embroidered with pearls, her head-dress being formed of two
similar bands, with crimson tassels, which almost conceal the brown
braided hair, and a little wreath of white and red flowers on the top.
She gazes across the picture at her little brother, her rosary in her
hands, of which, owing to the long sleeves of her dress, only the tips
of her fingers can be seen. The Turkey carpet, which falls over the low
step upon which the figures are grouped, has an elaborate pattern of
red, green, black, and white on a yellow-brown ground. The monotony of
its geometrical design is broken by a large irregular fold in the
centre, as though the rug had been hastily thrown down and not
straightened out. On either side of the shell-shaped circular niche the
carved pilasters of two low columns are seen above the heads of the
kneeling figures, and the green branches of a vine or fig-tree stand out
against a bright-blue sky.

The picture, like the Solothurn Madonna, is of peculiar shape, the top
of the panel following the lines of the architectural background. It
measures about 4 ft. 8½ in. (1.44 m.) to the top of the circular niche,
and 3 ft. 8½ in. (1.125 m.) to the horizontal edge above the pilasters
at the side, and is nearly 3 ft. 3½ in. (1.01 m.) wide. It is possible
that in its original state it was furnished with a pair of shutters. It
is now generally agreed that its date is about 1525 or 1526, and that it
was the last work of importance painted by Holbein before he left Basel.
Meyer took a second wife in 1513, and their daughter Anna, who
afterwards married Nikolaus Irmi, appears in the picture to be about the
age of twelve, which gives the year 1526 as the one in which Holbein
received the commission. Nothing is known of the two boys, who must have
died young, for Meyer left no male heirs. After his decease his widow
was twice married, and on her death in or about 1549 her heir was her
daughter Anna. The elder boy was perhaps the son of the first wife. The
technical qualities of the painting, too, place it in the years
immediately preceding Holbein’s first visit to England.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 72.


[Illustration:

  JAKOB MEYER
  _Drawings in black and coloured chalks_
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Illustration:

  DOROTHEA KANNENGIESSER
  Studies for the Meyer Madonna
  _Drawings in black and coloured chalks_
  BASEL GALLERY
]

There are three preliminary studies for the picture in the Basel
Gallery, portrait heads of the ex-burgomaster, his wife, and their
daughter.[494] All three are drawn in his customary manner in black
chalk, with spare use of coloured chalks and water-colour here and
there. The head of Meyer (Pl. 72 (1)),[495] in black and red, is in the
same position as in the picture, and placed against a greenish
background. His wife (Pl. 72 (2))[496] is also taken in the position she
occupies in the finished work, but her head-dress is a different one,
and the chin and the greater part of the mouth are hidden by a linen
band similar to the one worn by the unknown kneeling woman. Red is used
in the face, and brown for the hair, which is seen through the muslin
cap, and for the fur lining to the collar of her gown. The daughter,
Anna,[497] is shown almost at three-quarter length, with the arms and
hands visible. She wears the same dress with embroidered bands as in the
picture, but her hair, instead of being almost hidden by the elaborate
cap, hangs down straightly below her waist. More colour is used in this
drawing than in the others, the face being worked in flesh tints, the
hair of a golden-brown colour, the girdle red, and the ornaments of the
collar in yellow, while the background is washed with pale green. The
effect produced is very delicate and beautiful, and the portrait is
perhaps finer and more natural than in the picture itself. These
drawings closely resemble in style those which Holbein produced shortly
afterwards in England, and approach them very nearly in their complete
mastery of expressive line.

[Sidenote: THE BATTLE OF THE PICTURES]

For many years the fine early copy of the Meyer Madonna in the Dresden
Gallery[498] was regarded as Holbein’s original work, and one of the
greatest treasures of the collection, and it was not until 1822, when
the Darmstadt picture, purchased in that year by Prince William of
Prussia from a Parisian picture-dealer, was first brought to the notice
of connoisseurs, that any doubt was thrown upon the authenticity of the
better-known example, which was then almost universally regarded as one
of the greatest masterpieces of the German school. A few German critics
of note, among them Dr. Kugler, admitted that the Darmstadt picture was
a genuine work by Holbein, but it was many years before anyone had the
temerity to refuse a like honour to the famous example in Dresden. The
first to do so publicly was Wornum, in his Life of Holbein, published in
1867, and he was followed by Woltmann, A. von Zahn, and others.[499] In
spite of such critics, however, both pictures were still regarded by
most people as from Holbein’s own hand, and it was not until the Holbein
Exhibition, held in Dresden in 1871, when the two panels were placed
side by side, and a close comparison became possible, that the undoubted
genuineness of the Darmstadt painting was admitted by all except the few
who had a personal interest in upholding the prestige of the Dresden
Gallery, and who, therefore, refused to believe that their own picture
was a mere copy, however good. Throughout the autumn of 1871, a fierce
battle raged between the contending parties, and Dresden was split up
into two hostile camps. A manifesto was issued by thirteen of the
leading critics, headed by Woltmann, Thausing, De Lutzow, and A.
Bayersdorfer, affirming their belief that the Darmstadt picture was
indubitably a genuine work by Holbein, with considerable and later
retouches in the heads of the Virgin, the Infant Christ, and the
Burgomaster, and that the Dresden Madonna was a free copy of it, in
which the hand of Holbein was not to be seen in any part. The other
party retaliated with a manifesto of their own, in which they claimed
that the modifications of the design in the Dresden example were so
free, and were such great improvements, particularly in the spacing and
the proportions of the figures, that no one but Holbein could have
accomplished it, and that he alone could have given so lofty an ideality
and beauty of expression to the figure of the Virgin, and that the
picture remained a monument which attested the culminating point of
German art. The Darmstadt picture, on the other hand, they found to be
so badly obscured by dirty varnish and partial repaints that it was
impossible to judge seriously the question of its originality. An
interesting account of the dispute was given in the _Gazette des
Beaux-Arts_[500] by the artist Rudolf Lehmann, who was a staunch
upholder of the genuineness of the better-known picture. He saw in it a
greater beauty, maturity, and nobility, and held that the modifications
were so intelligent as to be in reality corrections of the earlier work,
and therefore only from the hand of the master himself.

The Darmstadt picture had certainly suffered from retouching in many
places, but in 1887 it underwent a careful cleaning at the hands of
Hauser of Munich, by means of which the dirt and the spurious paint were
removed. It was then found to be in a very perfect state of
preservation, with the original splendour of its colour almost undimmed,
and the details as fine and as clear as when Holbein first painted them.
The differences between the two pictures are many, but in colour, in
expression, and in technical achievement the one at Darmstadt is far
superior. The copyist who produced the Dresden picture has apparently
attempted to improve upon the original, by beautifying the face of the
Madonna, which has lost much of its character in the process, and giving
a more graceful form to the rather thickset, stumpy figure of the
original, so characteristic of Holbein. The proportions of the
background have been also changed, with the same idea of improvement.
The copyist appears to have thought that the top of the semicircular
niche pressed too closely upon the Virgin’s head, and he accordingly
raised it, thus relieving what he considered to be a cramped position;
whereas in Holbein’s original arrangement, in which the diameter of the
semicircle cuts across the shoulders of the figure, the spacing is more
effective than in the copy, in which the line passes through the
Virgin’s neck. In the same way the pilasters over the kneeling figures
on either side have been raised well above the heads, so that the upper
parts of the columns become visible. In richness and harmony of colour
the Darmstadt version is far finer. In the Dresden copy the Virgin’s
dress is green, which proves that it was painted at some time
considerably later than the original, when the blue of the latter had
taken on a greenish tint from the discoloration of the varnish. Again,
the extraordinary delicacy and precision of the draughtsmanship of all
the details of dress is far more marked in the original work, in which,
too, there is much greater expression and animation in the faces.

[Sidenote: HISTORY OF THE DARMSTADT PICTURE]

The history of the Darmstadt picture can be traced, with few breaks,
from the day it was painted. On the death of Dorothea Meyer about 1549
it passed into the possession of her daughter Anna and the latter’s
husband, Nikolaus Irmi, or Irmy (1507-52). Anna Irmi, who married, after
Irmi’s death, Wilhelm Hebdenring, and died a widow in 1558, left it to
her daughter Rosa or Rosina, who, in 1576, married, as his third wife,
Remigius Faesch, burgomaster of Basel. Rosa died about 1606, and shortly
afterwards Faesch sold the picture for one hundred golden crowns
(_coronatos aureos solares_) to a certain Lucas Iselin. This information
is contained in a Latin manuscript in the Basel Library, which was
written about the middle of the seventeenth century by a second Remigius
Faesch, grandson of the burgomaster. He was a doctor of laws, and a
collector of pictures, and his manuscript bears the title, “Humanæ
Industriæ Monumenta.” The thirty-fifth folio is concerned with Holbein,
and from it the history of the picture may be taken a step farther.
Faesch says: “In the year 163-, the above-named painter, Le Blond,
bought here of the widow and heirs of Lucas Iselin, of St. Martin’s, a
painting on wood, about three Basel ells in size, the height and width
being the same; in which were represented the foresaid Burgomaster Jakob
Meier, together with his sons on the right side, and on the opposite
side his wife with the daughters, all painted from life, kneeling before
the altar. I possess copies of a son and a daughter, painted in Belgium
from the picture itself by Joh. Ludi. Le Blond paid for the picture 1000
imperials, and sold it afterwards for three times as much to Maria de’
Medici, Queen Dowager of France, mother of King Louis XIII, while she
was residing in Belgium, where she died. Whither it afterwards went, is
uncertain.” A marginal note, added by Faesch, probably at a later date,
further states: “This panel belonged to my grandfather, the Burgomaster
Remigius Faesch, from whom Lucas Iselin gained possession of it,
ostensibly for the ambassador of the King of France, and paid 100 gold
crowns for it about the year 1606.”[501]

Lucas Iselin died in 1626, and his heirs appear to have sold the picture
some years afterwards to Michel Le Blond, the German engraver, who lived
for the greater part of his life in Amsterdam, where he was occupied in
providing engraved plates of ornaments for the use of jewellers, and was
also a picture collector and dealer. He acted as agent to the Court of
Sweden at Amsterdam, and in 1625 he negotiated for the Duke of
Buckingham the purchase of a large collection of works of art from
Rubens. He was a friend of Sandrart, Holbein’s biographer, and travelled
with him in Italy.

Sandrart, in his Life of Holbein, continues the history of the picture,
and in speaking of Le Blond’s collection, says: “This gentleman has long
ago” (_lang vorher_)—he refers to some time before he, Sandrart, was in
Amsterdam, about 1640-45—“sold to the bookkeeper (or banker) Johann
Lössert, at his urgent request for the sum of 3000 gulden, a standing
figure of the Virgin painted on a panel, holding her little Child in her
arms, and under her is a carpet on which some figures are kneeling
before her, taken from life.”[502] Sandrart’s description shows that the
picture in question was undoubtedly the Meyer Madonna, and this is
confirmed by Patin’s account. The latter had access to the Faesch
manuscript, and speaks of it as “A standing Mary on a panel with the
Child on her arm, under her a carpet on which some figures are kneeling
before her, painted from the life.”

[Sidenote: HISTORY OF THE DARMSTADT PICTURE]

Sandrart’s story indicates that Faesch must have been wrong in stating
that Le Blond sold the picture to Maria de’ Medici, then in exile in
Holland; she appears to have been contented with a copy of it. Sandrart
himself took sketches of some of the figures, and others were made,
according to Faesch, by Joh. Ludi. This was Johannes Lüdin, a pupil of
Sarburgh, who has been confused by earlier writers with Giovanni da
Lodi, an obscure painter whose work is to be found in several churches
in Lodi. Wornum thought that Giovanni might have been the author of the
Dresden copy of the picture,[503] but later researches have shown this
to be a mistake. Quite recently (1911), Dr. E. Major has identified it
as a copy made for Queen Maria de’ Medici by Bartholomäus Sarburgh, a
portrait-painter who, in 1634, was living at the Hague, which was about
the time the picture went to Holland. Sarburgh, who was born about 1590,
worked in Basel and in Berne, and may have known the painting in his
youth. It is extremely probable, in Dr. Major’s opinion, that the
Dresden example is identical with the copy known to have been in the
possession of the French Queen.[504] There are numerous copies of
Holbein’s works by Sarburgh still in Basel, and several portraits by him
in the Picture Gallery of that city.

It has also been suggested that Faesch was mistaken in saying that Le
Blond bought the picture from Iselin’s widow in Basel, and that in
reality he obtained it from Iselin himself at some earlier date; for in
1621 there was an important example of Holbein’s work in Amsterdam which
the Earl of Arundel was anxious to obtain. Sir Dudley Carleton, writing
to the Earl from the Hague, 22nd June 1621, says: “Having wayted lately
on y^e K. and Q. of Bohemia to Amsterdam, I there saw y^e picture of
Holben’s yo^r L^p. desires; but cannot yet obtayne it, though my
indeavours wayte on it, as they still shall doe.”[505] Sir Dudley,
however, gives no description of the picture, which he was unable to get
for the Earl, so that it is impossible to say more than that there is
some probability that it may have been the Meyer Madonna.

Sandrart, who was a personal friend of Le Blond, is no doubt correct
when he says that the latter sold it direct to the banker Johann
Lössert; and it remained in the possession of that family for some
seventy or eighty years. It next appears in a sale of the pictures of
Jacob Cromhout and Jasper Loskart, held at Amsterdam on the 7th and 8th
May 1709, the latter evidently a descendant of Johann Lössert. According
to the catalogue, both owners were deceased, and the greater number of
the pictures seem to have belonged to Cromhout, the catalogue-heading
concluding with the words, “and some other fine pictures coming from the
cabinet of the deceased Herr Jasper Loskart.”[506] It is possible that
the two owners were relations, or partners in business, as the coat of
arms of the Cromhouts is on the old frame of the Darmstadt panel,
indicating that at some time or other the picture had been transferred
from the one family to the other.[507] The picture was No. 24 in the
sale, and was described as, “A capital piece, with two doors,
representing Mary with Jesus on her arm, with various kneeling figures
from life, by Hans Holbeen—fl. 2000”; just double the price paid for a
large altar-piece by Rubens in the same sale, and equal to about £160 in
modern money, a large price for a picture in those days. It will be seen
that in 1709 it still had wings, which have since disappeared.

For more than one hundred years after the Cromhout sale all traces of
the picture are missing, though it appears to have been in England for
at least a part of the time, for on the back is written in English: “No.
82, Holy Family, Portraits, A.D.,” the latter initials indicating that
when here it was attributed to Dürer. On the old seventeenth-century
frame there are, in addition to the Cromhout coat of arms, the armorial
bearings of a member of the Von Warberge family and his wife, apparently
indicating yet another ownership. It reappeared in 1822, when it was
purchased by Prince William of Prussia from the Parisian picture-dealer
Delahante, through the latter’s brother-in-law, Spontini, at that time
royal musical director in Berlin, at a cost of 2500 or 2800
thalers—about £420. On the death of the Prince its purchase for the
Berlin Museum was urged by Dr. Waagen, but the authorities were not
willing to consider it. On the division of the Prince’s property, it was
assigned to his daughter, Princess Elizabeth, who married Prince Charles
of Hesse-Darmstadt in 1836; and from that day the picture has remained
in the private apartments of the old palace.

[Sidenote: HISTORY OF THE DRESDEN VERSION]

The first definite information about the Dresden version is that at the
beginning of the eighteenth century it was in Venice, in the possession
of the Delfino family, from whose representative, Giovanni Delfino, it
was purchased by Count Francesco Algarotti on the 4th September 1743,
for Augustus III, Elector of Saxony, for one thousand sequins. A
previous attempt to buy it had been made by the Duke of Orleans in 1723.
It is to be gathered from Algarotti’s correspondence that the picture
had been bequeathed to Delfino’s father by the Venetian banker Avogadro,
and, according to an old servant of the latter’s, named Griffoni, his
master had obtained it in or about the year 1690 in Amsterdam as payment
for a debt of 2000 sequins owing to him by the house of Lössert, which
had recently become bankrupt. Algarotti was of opinion that it was the
very picture mentioned by Sandrart. As, however, the original picture
was still in Amsterdam in 1709 (the date of the Cromhout sale), nearly
twenty years after Avogadro is said to have received it, the version
which went to Venice can only have been a copy, which it is now known to
be. It appears, therefore, that at one time Loskart or Lössert possessed
two versions of the picture; and it may be conjectured that at the time
of the bankruptcy, or perhaps earlier, the original was sold to or taken
over by Cromhout, and the early seventeenth-century copy retained, until
it was given to Avogadro in lieu of the debt. It is not, however,
necessary to suppose that the transaction was an underhand one, and that
a copy was knowingly palmed off on the banker as an original, for very
possibly by that time both pictures were regarded as genuine works by
Holbein.

At the time the Venetian example was purchased for the Elector of
Saxony, it was generally regarded as a portrait-group of the More
family, owing to the similarity of the names Meyer and More. Horace
Walpole, who saw it in Venice, gave it its correct title. He says, when
referring to the various examples existing of the More family group:
“The fifth[508] was in the palace of the Delfino family at Venice, where
it was long on sale, the first price set, 1500_l._ When I saw it there
in 1741 they had sunk it to 400_l._, soon after which the present King
of Poland bought it.... The old man is not only unlike all
representations of Sir Thomas More, but it is certain that he never had
but one son. For the colouring, it is beautiful beyond description, and
the carnations have that enamelled bloom so peculiar to Holbein, who
touched his works till not a touch remained discernible! A drawing of
this picture by Bischop was brought over in 1723, from whence Vertue
doubted both of the subject and the painter; but he never saw the
original! By the description of the family picture of the Consul Mejer,
mentioned above, I have no doubt but this is the very picture—Mejer and
More are names not so unlike but that in process of time they may have
been confounded, and that of More retained, as much better known.”[509]

The cost of the picture was 1000 sequins, or 22,000 livres de
Venise—about £458 in English money—and the expenses in connection with
its purchase, packing, and forwarding to Dresden, came to some £125
more, including a liberal present to the painter Tiepolo, who helped in
the negotiations, and smaller gratuities to various retainers of the
Delfino family. The total cost, therefore, was considerably more than
three times the price paid for the original painting in the Amsterdam
sale.

Although the Meyer Madonna possesses no hidden meaning, and is merely a
customary representation of a donor and his family kneeling in adoration
before the Virgin and Child, yet a number of fanciful interpretations
were given to it in the last century, of which some echoes still remain.
It has been suggested that it is a votive picture to commemorate the
recovery of a sick child, whom the Virgin has taken into her arms,
placing her own child on the ground among the donors. This idea was
carried still farther by others, who saw in the infant on the Madonna’s
breast the soul of a dead child; while a third theory propounded was to
the effect that the little one was merely the soul of the woman kneeling
next the Virgin, supposed to be Meyer’s first wife. These are all
sentimental refinements of nineteenth-century German criticism, first
voiced by such writers as Ludwig Tieck and Friedrich Schlegel, and in
all probability would never have been heard of had the original picture
been in Dresden instead of the copy. In the latter the unknown copyist
has not been so successful in the figure of the infant Christ as in
other portions of the picture. It is far less animated than in the
original, and a little sickly and unhappy in expression, and it was
this, no doubt, which first suggested these over-refinements of meaning.
Ruskin was on the side of the sentimentalists. He says: “The received
tradition respecting the Holbein Madonna is beautiful, and I believe the
interpretation to be true. A father and mother have prayed to her for
the life of their sick child. She appears to them, her own Child in her
arms. She puts down her Christ before them, takes their child into her
arms instead; it lies down upon her bosom, and stretches its hands to
its father and mother, saying farewell.”[510] As a matter of fact, there
is nothing of death or sickness about the work, which tells its story
with the utmost simplicity and mastery of means, without needing such
refined subtleties for its proper explanation.

[Sidenote: HOLBEIN’S MODEL FOR THE VIRGIN]

It is difficult to follow Holbein’s latest English biographer, Mr. G. S.
Davies, in his belief that the influence of Gherardt David can be seen
in this work, and, in particular, to find, as he does, indications of
Holbein’s acquaintance with David’s great picture of the “Madonna with
the Saints and Angels,” now in the Rouen Museum, but in Holbein’s day,
and for three centuries afterwards, in the Carmelite Church in Bruges,
for which it had been painted. “I do not think that any one who
thoroughly knew the Darmstadt Holbein can fail,” he says, “as he looks
at this masterpiece of the Flemish painter, to be at once reminded by
something in the feeling and in the type of Madonna, and even in such
details as the choice of crown and robe, in the outspread mantle, in the
fashion of the robe, in the wavy golden hair lying along the shoulder,
and in the pose of the head as she looks down at the Child, of the
greater German master. Holbein’s is a stronger, more intensely
sympathetic, more real and convincing vision; but the original type
seems to be common to both men.”[511] To render this possible, a visit
to Bruges on Holbein’s part becomes necessary, and Mr. Davies considers
it to be most probable that he did so either on his way to England in
1526 or on his return in 1528, and he states, but without bringing
forward any proofs, that Holbein “spent several months in or about
Antwerp” on the former journey, and that he would not be likely to omit
a visit to so great a centre of art as Bruges. This theory also
necessitates the alteration of the date of the painting of the Meyer
Madonna, whereas everything points to its completion before Holbein left
Basel for England; nor will he find many to agree with him that in this
great picture, so essentially German in feeling, strong traces of
Flemish influence are to be seen. Such alien influence as can be traced
in it is undoubtedly Italian.

For the Meyer Madonna, Holbein’s wife no longer served as the model for
the Virgin, as she had done for the Madonna of Solothurn. Her place was
taken by that lady of somewhat notorious character in Basel, Magdalena
Offenburg. As pointed out in an earlier chapter, she had already twice
served Holbein as a model for his costume studies of Basel ladies,[512]
and she also sat to him for the two pictures of “Venus” and “Laïs
Corinthiaca” in the Basel Gallery, in which the similarity of features
to those of the Virgin in the Darmstadt altar-piece is very marked,
while all three bear an evident likeness to the model of that one of the
costume studies in which the sitter wears a necklace with the recurring
initials “M. O.” Her daughter Dorothea, wife of Joachim von Sultz, who
at one time was considered to be the lady represented in the “Laïs” and
“Venus” pictures,[513] led an equally scandalous life. She was divorced
in 1545, and both she and her husband were imprisoned, and afterwards
expelled the country.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 73.


[Illustration:

  MAGDALENA OFFENBURG AS VENUS
  1526
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Illustration:

  MAGDALENA OFFENBURG AS LAIS
  1526
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: THE “LAÏS” AND “VENUS” PICTURES]

These two small, delicately painted portraits of Magdalena Offenberg as
“Laïs” and “Venus,” the former being dated “1526,” were among the last
works produced by Holbein before he left Basel for England. They bear a
very close resemblance to one another, except in the position of the
head, so that one appears to be almost a copy of the other. In the
Amerbach catalogue of 1586 they are described as: “Zwei täfelin doruf
eine Offenburgin conterfehet ist vf eim geschriben Lais Corinthiaca, die
ander hat ein kindlin bÿ sich. H. Holb. beide, mit ölfarben vnd in
ghüsern.” In each the figure is about one-third the size of life, and
the costume is the same, a rich dress of dark red velvet with slashings
showing white silk puffs, each fastened at top and bottom with gold
tags. The wide upper sleeves are of a deep gold hue. In each picture she
is shown at almost three-quarter length, behind a plain stone parapet,
with a dark green curtain as background. In the “Laïs” (No. 322) (Pl. 73
(2))[514] she wears a closely-fitting gold-embroidered head-dress or cap
on her fair hair, and with her left hand grasps the folds of a blue
mantle draped across her knees. On the parapet in front of her—which is
inscribed “Lais Corinthiaca. 1526,” in Roman letters, as though incised
in the stone—is placed a little heap of scattered gold coins, and she is
holding out her right hand, with palm upwards, as though asking for more
of them in payment for her favours. The pose is slightly varied in the
“Venus” (No. 323) (Pl. 73 (1)),[515] which is undated, the head being
bent a little to the right, instead of to the left, and there are small
changes in the costume. The lower sleeves of red slashed velvet are
omitted, and the arms are bare to the elbow, while the head-dress is
black, with a little gold ornamentation. The position of the hands is
almost the same, though the left one is hidden by the head and shoulders
of a small naked, red-haired Cupid, whose right arm rests on the parapet
with two long arrows in his hand. The golden coins are missing, but the
open palm of the lady’s right hand carries the same suggestion as in the
“Laïs.” The old frame still retains the curious and singularly
inappropriate inscription, “Verbum Domini manet in æternum,” which was
upon it when the Amerbach Collection was purchased by the town of Basel
in 1662.

[Sidenote: HOLBEIN AND MAGDALENA OFFENBURG]

The face is a refined one, with a high forehead, long nose, finely cut
lips, and fair complexion, and in the “Laïs” in particular, does not
suggest the supposed character of the sitter as tradition has handed it
down. It is possible that the painter to some extent idealised her
features. The “Venus” is less tender and attractive in expression; so
much so, indeed, that Woltmann[516] suggests that it was painted at an
earlier date, and that the “Laïs” was a renewed and more successful
attempt to represent the same idea. What that idea may have been has
given rise to considerable speculation. Wornum[517] quotes an old legend
to the effect that the artist could not obtain payment for the “Venus”
picture, and so, in revenge, he painted her as the famous courtesan,
Laïs of Corinth, the mistress of the great painter Apelles; but this
explanation is an absurd one. Woltmann’s suggestion is that both
pictures were painted for some lover of the lady, who wished, in the
first instance, to express his love, and then, later on, his contempt.
It is more probable that the pictures were the result of relationships
between the painter himself and Magdalena, though beyond the fact that
she served him more than once as a model, there is no proof of this.
This supposed connection between Holbein and the lady has given rise to
much imaginative writing in recent monographs. In one of them we are
told that “when Holbein inscribed his second portrait of Dorothea with
the words Laïs Corinthiaca, the midsummer madness must have been already
a matter of scorn and wonder to himself. His whole life and the works of
his life are the negation of the groves of Corinth. The paint was not
long dry on the Goddess of Love—at any rate, her dress was not worn
out—before he had seen her in her true colours: the daughter of the
horseleech, crying ‘Give, give.’ And so he painted her in 1526; to
scourge himself, surely, since she was too notoriously infamous to be
affected by it. As if in stern scorn of every beauty, every allure, he
set himself to record them in detail.... Laïs is far more beautiful, and
far more beautifully painted, than Venus. No emotion has hurried the
painter’s hand or confused his eye this time. In vain she wears such
sadness in her eyes, such pensive dignity of attitude, such a wistful
smile on her lips. He knows them, now, for false lights on the wrecker’s
coast. No faltering; no turning back. He can even fit a new head-dress
on the lovely hair, and add the puffed sleeves below the short ones. He
is a painter now; not a lover.... The plague was raging in Basel all
through that spring and summer, but I doubt if Holbein shuddered at its
contact as at the loveliness he painted,”[518] and so on. This is all
very pretty, but the imagination of the writer has run away with her.
What suggestion could be more fantastic than that in painting the Venus,
Holbein’s love for the lady was so great that both hand and eye faltered
in depicting her charms, and that he could only do full justice to her
beauty when his affection was dead and her loveliness made him shudder?
A more recent writer[519] is of opinion that Holbein succumbed to the
charms of Magdalena Offenburg before his marriage, and that she deigned
to honour the young Swabian painter with her favours almost directly
after his return to Basel from Lucerne. Though forced to confess that he
can find no traces of her as Holbein’s model in any of his finished
paintings of the period before Elsbeth Schmidt came into his life, in
his opinion she served him in that capacity not only for the series of
studies of the costumes worn by the Basel ladies, but also for his early
glass designs of the Madonna gazing down at the Infant Christ in her
arms, the St. Barbara of the same set, and the fine design of a wooden
statue of St. Michael, all three of which have been already
described.[520] No doubt the type of face in all these studies is much
the same, but there is a tendency in this search for likenesses to go
too far, and to see Magdalena Offenburg or Elsbeth Schmidt as the only
models used by Holbein at this time. In some instances the likeness is
largely imaginary. His wife, the same writer continues, may not have
been beautiful, but she certainly had charm, as the portrait at the
Hague proves, and Holbein must have loved her when he painted her. For
two years afterwards he remained the devoted husband, using her as the
model for the Solothurn Madonna, the Virgin of the Basel organ doors,
and for the glass design of the Mary in the niche with the cavalier
kneeling before her. Then, after this short period of happiness, her
place in the pictures and designs is again taken by Magdalena. The
impudent creature appears as the St. Ursula of the Karlsruhe painting,
and the “arrows in her hands are those with which in succeeding years
she is to pierce the poor heart of the painter’s wife.” In the Meyer
Madonna, this writer sees in the Virgin nothing but the elegant, banal
visage of the courtesan, and a complete want of all humanity. The “Laïs”
and “Venus” of 1526, he adds, affirm finally and cynically the victory
of the mistress over the legitimate wife, while the last and worst
insult of all was in using his own eldest child as the model for the
Cupid, and placing him in the company of the hateful rival, who in the
end robbed his wife of all her beauty and all her happiness. There may
be some truth in this attempt to reconstruct a few pages of Holbein’s
life-story, but there is little proof to support it. Where proof is
lacking, however, the writer’s imagination fills the gaps; but it is not
fair to condemn the painter upon such evidence as this, or to hold him
guilty of infamous conduct upon the strength of a few supposed
likenesses in his pictures or designs.

Whatever Holbein’s personal relations to Magdalena Offenburg may have
been, she appears to have been a good model, which is in itself quite
sufficient to explain the fact that he painted these two portraits of
her. That he held her in no particular esteem may be gathered from the
name he gives her, just as Niklaus Manuel Deutsch, as noted in a
previous chapter, wrote an offensive remark as to her character on the
drawing he made of her. Her face, as represented by Holbein, is fair,
but devoid of any strong feeling, though Knackfuss holds that “a deep
and quiet sorrow lies in the expression of the refined face;” and that
“the sense of the two paintings is explained by their juxtaposition: the
gold which she desired cannot make the young woman happy; love alone can
do so.”[521] This last-named writer considers that the pictures were not
painted to some one’s order, but for the artist’s own amusement.

A question of much more interest in connection with these two works is
their authorship. They differ from all other portraits by Holbein of the
Basel period, because in them the Milanese influence upon his art is
seen at its strongest, so that more than one writer of repute has
refused to admit that they are his work. Rumohr regarded them as from
the hand of some Netherlandish painter, and Waagen was of opinion that
Holbein painted them under Netherlandish influence. Wornum considered
them to be the work of some Milanese. “The style of the painting,” he
says, “is more Milanese, in colouring and in treatment, than anything
else, exceedingly elaborate, cool in colour, dry in manner, and
altogether unlike any other known work by our painter. In this case I
have not the slightest faith in the Amerbach inventory.... The two
portraits have a decided Milanese character, in the manner of the
scholars of Leonardo da Vinci. A visit to Milan could not have had such
a wonderful influence on Holbein’s taste as is shown in these portraits,
or if such be allowed to be possible, it is just as remarkable that he
should have laid this taste down again without leaving a trace
behind.”[522]

Mr. Davies follows Wornum, but goes still farther in suggesting the name
of the North Italian artist who painted them. He says: “I may say at
once that I am quite unable to see any Netherlandish influence or
probable authorship in the pictures. On the other hand, I see the
strongest evidence of Lombard influence, and that in so direct a fashion
and to such a degree that I believe them to be the work of some Lombard
artist who had come under the influence of the later work of Raphael.
The name of Cesare da Sesto at once occurs to one, and if it were not
for the date 1526 on the Laïs picture, there would be no great
difficulty in accepting it as a work by him which had found its way
across from Milan—possibly even in the pack of Holbein himself.”[523] He
acknowledges the difficulty of the date—Da Sesto was dead in 1526—and
also of the red-haired Cupid in the Venus picture, so evidently both
German and from Holbein’s own hand, and bearing so close a resemblance
to the children in other pictures of his, such as the Meyer Madonna and
the Family Group of 1528; but in spite of this, his final opinion is
that they are most probably the work of Cesare da Sesto. He further
suggests that Holbein, “possessing, or seeing in the possession of
Amerbach, these two small examples, very similar in attitude and
motive,” sought to give them variety, by inserting the figure of Cupid
in the one, and thus giving this Italian lady the character of Venus,
and in the other the gold coins and the title of Laïs, “so as to turn a
somewhat unmeaning picture of a woman into a quasi-classical
personality.” “The Offenburg tradition,” he adds, “I should wholly
reject, nor indeed can I persuade myself that these pictures are
portraits by Holbein either of that shadowy lady or of any other lady
whatever. They appear to me to be pictures, not of some well-marked
personality, but merely Lombard school types.”

[Sidenote: MILANESE INFLUENCE IN THE LAÏS]

It is impossible to follow Mr. Davies in this attribution. Woltmann’s
opinion, with which most modern critics are in agreement, that they are
genuine works by Holbein in which Lombard influence is more strongly
marked than in most of his other Basel paintings, is the correct one.
The two panels are unmistakably the product of a northern painter
working under some southern influence, and just as unmistakably the work
of Holbein himself, as a close comparison with his other work of this
period shows very plainly. This Milanese influence was the result of his
visit to Lombardy, and is to be traced in a greater or lesser degree in
all that he accomplished previously to his first visit to England.
“Their warm, transparent technique and the realistic ungracefulness of
the draperies,” says Mr. C. J. Holmes, speaking of the Laïs and its
companion, “make them characteristic northern works, just as the
Raphaelesque folds and cool opaque pigment of Cesare da Sesto in his
later paintings—the small Madonna in the Brera, for example—are
characteristically southern.”[524] Possibly for once in a way Holbein
was making a conscious attempt to imitate the manner of some artist of
the North Italian school whose work he had seen and admired, perhaps in
Basel itself, so that the Lombard influence is more pronounced than in
those pictures and designs in which he was less evidently making an
experiment based upon what he had seen in Italy, and in which his own
native genius was the predominating force. For the same reason it is
very possible that in the Laïs and the Venus, Holbein, instead of
following his model closely, gave play to his imagination, and
attempted, as the type of face, with downcast eyes, and pensive, almost
melancholy charm of expression suggests, to emulate the Leonardesque
manner, so that at the best they are merely idealised representations of
the notorious Magdalena Offenburg.

There is no doubt that during the summer of 1526, in spite of his
reputation as a painter, he found it increasingly difficult to gain a
living, and that, in consequence, he made up his mind to seek his
fortunes in some other country, and finally decided to visit England. In
those early days of the Reformation in Switzerland, when the
ecclesiastical disputes were assuming so acute a form, and risings of
the peasants and other violent disturbances were growing common, there
was very little opportunity for artists to find remunerative employment,
and Holbein suffered with the rest. The town authorities had no time for
considering such important public works as the completion of the Town
Hall decorations, and all that they could find for him to do was an
ill-paid job or two at long intervals, such as the one already
mentioned,[525] which in happier times would have been hardly worth his
attention. Basel, indeed, no longer offered a means of livelihood to a
painter with a wife, a stepson, and two children of his own to keep.
Throughout this year, too, the plague was raging in the city, and this
may have proved the last straw which definitely turned his thoughts in
the direction of England.

Numerous legends have grown up around this journey of his, which for the
most part have no foundation in fact. The commonest, first voiced by Van
Mander, is to the effect that the Earl of Arundel, when passing through
Basel on his way home from Italy some years previously, was so delighted
with Holbein’s work that he urged him to try his fortunes in England.
Later on, when Holbein had taken his advice, he was asked by Sir Thomas
More, who it was who had suggested this course to him. Holbein replied
that he had forgotten the nobleman’s name, but, taking up a piece of
charcoal, he rapidly sketched a face, which the Chancellor instantly
recognised. Another version gives the Earl of Surrey as Holbein’s
adviser; but the tale is a pure legend, and has been told of more than
one painter.

Another story, which has been often repeated, gives as the reason of his
departure the desire to escape from the constant tempers of an
ill-humoured wife, and that he therefore left Basel surreptitiously,
without obtaining the necessary leave of absence from the Town Council.
His earlier biographers all describe his relationships with his wife as
not very cordial ones, but they merely copied from one another, and this
again may be mere legend. Patin, in particular, whose account of Holbein
is palpably exaggerated and often false, describes him as a drunkard,
who led a disorderly life, and was always so poverty-stricken that
Erasmus and Amerbach had frequently to come to his assistance—a
statement entirely devoid of fact, and sufficiently disproved by
Holbein’s brilliant performances in many branches of art. Patin also,
when speaking of Holbein’s journey to England, makes use of another
favourite story told of numerous artists. He says that on his way he
passed through Strasburg, and called on the principal painter of the
town, but found him out. An unfinished portrait stood on the easel,
whereupon Holbein painted a fly on the forehead, and then left. When the
painter returned he attempted to brush it away, imagining it to be a
real one, and was so impressed by his unknown visitor’s skill, that he
at once sought him out, but found that he had already left the town.

[Sidenote: REASONS FOR LEAVING BASEL]

It is, of course, possible that Holbein’s domestic relations by that
time were not as cordial as in earlier days, and that his supposed
connection with Magdalena Offenburg may have rendered them still less
pleasant, and that this may have had something to do with his departure;
but this again is mere conjecture, of which no actual proof is
forthcoming. Want of work was undoubtedly the chief, and possibly the
only cause of his journey, and no doubt it was largely the advice of
Erasmus which finally decided him to take the step. Erasmus, who had
already sent more than one example of Holbein’s skill as a
portrait-painter to England, had a large circle of friends and patrons
here, to whom he could recommend the artist. To Warham and More, at
least, Holbein’s portrait of Erasmus had already provided an informal
introduction, and they may have been aware, also, though this is less
likely, that it was he who designed the title-page used in the edition
of the _Utopia_ published by Froben in 1518, signed “Hans Holb.” In 1525
a certain Thomas Grey and his youngest son were living with Erasmus in
Basel, according to a letter from the latter to Lupset;[526] and Grey,
too, may have advised Holbein to seek fortune at Henry’s court. “Grey,”
says Erasmus, “reports that there is no disturbance in England,” and
this news may have proved an added inducement to the painter to quit a
country agitated with religious and civil contention for a more peaceful
locality where the arts could flourish in peace.

Before leaving Basel, Holbein made one last attempt, as already
recounted,[527] to obtain from the Antonine Abbey of Isenheim the
painting materials which his father had left there some years
previously. The strongly-worded letter, dated 4th July 1526, which the
Burgomaster of Basel, Heinrich Meltinger, wrote at his request, is
addressed to the “venerable Herr Vicar and preceptor of the Order of St.
Antonius at Isenenn, our dear and gracious Master,” and runs as follows:
“Venerable, gracious, and dear sir, receive our friendly and ready
service. Hans Holbein, painter, our citizen, has proposed to us to paint
an altar-panel, such as his deceased father painted in former years. He
left some implements of an expensive kind, weighing about three hundred
and two cubic measures, with you at Isenheim, which he, Hans Holbein,
repeatedly during the lifetime of his father, and at his desire, and
also after his decease, being his heir, demanded of you, but could never
obtain; for what reasons he knows not. Thus the matter has been delayed
to such an extent that the peasants, he is informed, have wasted these
implements in the last uproar, and when he again desired them of you, as
his father’s heir, you referred him, with his request, to the peasants,
with whom he has nothing to do, and to whom he has intrusted nothing,
and notified to him an appointment on the Saturday after the next Ulrici
(7th July) at Ensisheim. We, having heard his business, and given
credence to it, and being well inclined to further him, have not allowed
him to keep such an appointment, or to make any demand of the peasants
(with whom he, as we have heard, has nothing to do), but have firm
confidence in you, that you will weigh the matter thoroughly, and hand
over to him, as the heir of his deceased father, completely and without
difficulty, the aforementioned implements, or, in case nothing of them
now exists, compensate him for their loss, and so show yourself towards
him in the affair, that he may feel that our intercession has been
advantageous, and that no further steps are necessary. Such behaviour on
your side we wish for him, to whom it is justly due.”[528]

This letter affords proof that Ambrosius Holbein was dead, for in it
Hans is mentioned more than once as his father’s heir, and it also shows
that the Basel Council were not so actively opposed to the painting of
altar-pieces as other incidents of the time suggest. Nothing further is
known of this altar-panel which Holbein proposed to paint for them.

[Sidenote: ERASMUS’ LETTER OF INTRODUCTION]

It is evident that the materials, which would now have been very useful
to him, had been destroyed or dispersed in the peasant rising, and that
he obtained neither colours nor redress. He left Basel for England on or
about August 29, 1526, as appears from a letter of introduction of that
date which he carried with him from Erasmus to his friend Peter Ægidius,
the learned traveller and town-clerk of Antwerp, in which Holbein was
recommended to his notice as the artist who had painted Erasmus. Ægidius
is also asked to introduce him to Quentin Metsys. The part of the letter
which refers to Holbein (though not by name) runs as follows:—

“The bearer of this letter is the man who painted my portrait. I do not
trouble you with any commendation of him, though he is an excellent
artist (_artifex_). If he wants to call on Quentin, and you have not
leisure to introduce him, you can send a servant with him to show him
the house. The arts are freezing in this part of the world, and he is on
his way to England to pick up some angels there (_petit Angliam ut
corrodat aliquot Angelatos_—Erasmus plays upon the words Angles and
Angels). You can send on any letters you like by him.”[529] There is no
reason to suppose that Holbein delayed his departure after receiving
this letter from his patron, who must also have supplied him with
introductions to More, Warham, and other friends in England. It was, no
doubt, necessary for him to arrange with the Town Council for leave of
absence, and this having been done, he must have started not later than
the first days of September, reaching London towards the close of the
same month.


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                              CHAPTER XII

  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.


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                              CHAPTER XIII

        THE FIRST VISIT TO ENGLAND: PORTRAITS OF THE MORE FAMILY

Holbein’s arrival in England and his reception by Sir Thomas More—The
  More Family Group and the Basel study for it—The various copies of the
  picture at Nostell Priory, East Hendred, Burford Priory, and
  elsewhere—The Sotheby miniature—Studies for the heads in the Windsor
  Collection—The portrait of Sir Thomas More—Miniature of More in the
  late Mr. Pierpont Morgan’s Collection—Portrait of Lady More—Margaret
  Roper—Drawing of unknown lady in the Salting Collection—Portrait at
  Shere said to represent Margaret Roper.


THE date of Holbein’s arrival in England can be fixed with some
certainty. The letter of introduction he carried from Erasmus to Peter
Ægidius in Antwerp, as already pointed out, was dated 29th August 1526,
and it must have been written on the eve of the painter’s departure from
Basel. Travelling was slow in those days, and Holbein would not be in a
position to afford to make the whole journey on horseback. As he carried
letters from Erasmus, the latter may have helped him with his travelling
expenses, but no doubt the greater part of the journey would be made by
boat down the Rhine, and for the rest he would trudge on foot, the
materials of his craft on his back.

[Sidenote: HOLBEIN’S JOURNEY TO ENGLAND]

There is no evidence to show that he made a stay of any length in
Antwerp; nor any record of a meeting with Ægidius or Metsys, though such
meetings must almost certainly have taken place, for the former would be
likely to do everything in his power to oblige Erasmus. Woltmann
suggests that he stayed in Antwerp for at least some weeks, in order to
earn some money, while Mr. Davies thinks that he made a somewhat lengthy
sojourn in the Netherlands before coming to England.[648] “One may take
it almost for granted,” he says, “that a man of his sympathies, the
fountain of whose art had already flowed down to him by Flemish
channels, would not fail to use his opportunity for visiting the great
Flemish primitives, the Van Eycks, Memlinc, Van der Weyden, Gerard David
in their own homes. Ghent and Bruges lay at no great distance seaward,
and whether he took ship at Flushing, or chose the longer land route and
the shorter sea passage by Calais—an expensive method for one whose
pockets were as empty as Holbein’s—he would, one feels sure, have made
the pilgrimage to those two cities.”[649]

Dr. Waagen also believed that Holbein made a considerable delay in
Antwerp, for the purpose of painting the portrait of Ægidius, now in
Longford Castle, at that time considered to be from his hand; and he
also held the theory that the “Laïs Corinthiaca” and the “Venus” were
painted on the same occasion, seeing in them a Netherlandish influence.
Mr. Davies, in a second passage, to which reference has been made,[650]
asserts that Holbein “spent several months in or about Antwerp on his
way to England in 1526.” He admits, however, that he is dealing with
mere probabilities, and it is much more likely that Holbein would waste
as little time as possible in reaching the country in which he hoped to
improve his fortunes, and would tarry only a day or two in Antwerp, in
order to make the acquaintance of Metsys; and that he then either took
ship at that port, or, which is less probable, tramped on to Calais, the
customary point of embarkation for England. He may thus have reached
London easily by the beginning or middle of October 1526. It is, in any
case, quite certain that he did not spend “several months in or about
Antwerp.” This is proved both by a letter from Sir Thomas More to
Erasmus, dated 18th December, and by the fact that the preliminary
studies, or, at least, the general study for the grouping in the More
family portrait, now in the Basel Gallery, must have been finished
before the 7th February 1527.

Holbein, of course, would carry with him a letter of introduction from
Erasmus to More, and very possibly to Warham, Fisher, and other
correspondents of the philosopher then in England. There is no reason to
throw doubt on Carel van Mander’s statement that he was received as a
guest in Sir Thomas More’s hospitable house in Chelsea. Van Mander’s
biography contains numerous inaccuracies, although he wrote only some
sixty years after Holbein’s death; but in this instance he is probably
correct. More, who was noted for his hospitality, would welcome to his
home any friend sent to him by Erasmus, and would do all that he could
to help a foreigner, who can have had little or no knowledge of the
English language. Van Mander’s statement has been copied and amplified
by later writers until the legend runs that Holbein spent the greater
part of three years under More’s roof; but this is not at all likely to
have happened. During the painting of the great family picture, or, in
any case, while the preliminary studies were being made, and other
single portraits of members of More’s household taken, Holbein, no
doubt, remained as a guest at Chelsea, if only for the convenience of
the several sitters, but that he stayed throughout the whole of his
first English visit as More’s guest is doubtful. He would, naturally,
wish for a studio and lodging of his own, however humble, where he would
be free to do just as he liked. Whether he set up his easel in the
village hard by his patron’s house, or in London itself, where he would
find a number of compatriots, it is not now possible to say, though an
item in the royal accounts in connection with the festivities at
Greenwich in 1527[651] seems to indicate that he had settled in the
city; while, on the other hand, nearly all the portraits painted by him
at this time were of men who were among More’s most intimate personal
friends, whom Holbein would be more likely to meet in Chelsea than in
London.

More certainly did everything in his power to help the painter. He not
only gave him commissions for single portraits of himself and his wife,
and, possibly, of his favourite daughter, Margaret Roper, but also for
the large family group already mentioned. It is to be supposed that
Holbein had carried with him some specimens of his handiwork by which
Sir Thomas could judge of his ability, and he would almost certainly
have with him proofs of the “Dance of Death” woodcuts, in themselves
more than sufficient testimony to the brilliance of his artistic powers.
Sir Thomas must also have had earlier knowledge of his skill both as a
portrait-painter and a book-illustrator, in the likenesses of Erasmus
already sent to this country, and in the various books by Erasmus and
others, including his own _Utopia_, issued by Froben and other printers
of Basel, which Holbein had helped to decorate.

[Sidenote: MORE’S LETTER TO ERASMUS]

In a long letter to Erasmus, mentioned above,[652] dated 18th December,
More gives a few words of praise and a promise of help to their common
friend and protegé: “Your painter, dearest Erasmus, is a wonderful
artist, but I fear he is not likely to find England so abundantly
fertile as he had hoped; although I will do what I can to prevent his
finding it quite barren.”[653] This letter, as already stated, is dated
1525 in the published letters of Erasmus, but the correct date is 1526,
as first pointed out by Mr. F. M. Nichols, F.S.A.[654] It has been
generally supposed that it was written after More had seen certain
portraits of Erasmus sent over from Basel about 1524, and that his
promise of help to the painter had reference to a projected visit to
England on the part of Holbein. Mr. Nichols, however, proves
conclusively that it was written after More had made his personal
acquaintance. “The true date,” he says, “is shown not only by the
allusion to Holbein, who was evidently in England at the time, but still
more certainly by the literary work of Erasmus mentioned in it. The
first part of the _Hyperaspistes_ (the answer of Erasmus to the _Servum
Arbitrium_ of Luther), printed in the spring of 1526, and the
_Institution of Christian Marriage_, printed in August of the same year,
are both mentioned as already published, and the second part of
_Hyperaspistes_ as expected. This last book was published at the close
of the same year, 1526, not much after the date of the letter as here
corrected.” More, therefore, wrote to Erasmus in praise of Holbein after
he had received practical proof, in the shape of his studies for the
Family Group, of what the latter was capable in the way of portraiture.

The earliest work undertaken by the artist was the painting of this
group of his host’s family, and the several individual portraits of
certain members of the Chelsea household, of which the first would be
undoubtedly that of his new patron.

The inscriptions on the study for the Family Group, now in the Basel
Gallery, prove conclusively that the beautiful sketch of the general
arrangement of the picture was finished, and possibly the picture itself
begun, before 7th February 1527, thus indicating that Holbein must have
started upon it with little delay. This fact is made clear through the
researches of Mr. Nichols, included in a second and earlier paper read
before the Society of Antiquaries in 1897,[655] dealing with the correct
birth-year of Sir Thomas More. It is impossible to give here even a
short summary of the evidence which he brings forward, evidence which
proves that More was born on 7th February 1477, a year earlier than the
date until then supposed to be the correct one. He then proceeds to show
the bearing of this new year-date upon the Basel sketch. The sketch has
the name and age of the persons represented in it written against each
figure, and it is important to observe that there is a strong
probability that these inscriptions were written or dictated by More
himself. They are correctly written in Latin, while the painter’s notes
on the same drawing are in German; and, as Mr. Nichols says, the
information, including on the one hand the age of More’s venerable
father, and on the other that of his domestic fool, could scarcely have
been furnished by any one but More himself. Woltmann recognises the
handwriting as undoubtedly that of More from its remarkable resemblance
to the address on the letter held in the hand of Peter Ægidius in the
Longford Castle portrait, which More declared was copied quite as
closely as he could have copied it himself.

[Sidenote: BASEL STUDY FOR THE FAMILY GROUP]

In the Basel sketch he has written above his own portrait, _Thomas Morus
anno 50_—that is, _anno quinquagesimo_, “in his fiftieth year”—and,
according to the corrected birth-date, Sir Thomas was in his fiftieth
year from 7th February 1526 to 7th February 1527, which proves that the
big picture had been completely planned out, and probably well advanced,
before the latter date. In support of this contention, it will be found
that not only the age of More himself, but that of other members of his
family where they can be verified, point to the same date. Thus,
Erasmus, who prided himself on his remarkable memory for the ages of his
friends, says that John More, Sir Thomas’s only son, was just about
thirteen in the summer of 1521, so that he would be in his nineteenth
year in the autumn and winter of 1526, which is the age attributed to
him on the sketch; while the dates of the birth and death of John More’s
wife, Anne Cresacre, are known, and tally with the “anno 15” on the same
drawing. More’s eldest child, Margaret Roper, is described as in her
twenty-second year, and though the precise date of her birth is not
known, the marriage of her parents took place in the twentieth year of
Henry VII (21st August 1504-21st August 1505), which is consistent with
her birth at any time between the summer of 1505 and the 7th February
1506, and therefore with her being in her twenty-second year at the date
attributed to the sketch. It appears, therefore, that the evidence of
all these inscriptions either confirms that date or is not inconsistent
with it.

This proves that the Family Group was the first work undertaken by
Holbein in England, and that in the intervals of painting the larger
picture he was engaged upon a single portrait of Sir Thomas More and
upon others of certain of the latter’s friends.

Unfortunately, the picture itself, if ever completed by Holbein, has
disappeared. “For nothing,” says Walpole, “has Holbein’s name been
oftener mentioned than for the picture of Sir Thomas More’s family. Yet
of six pieces extant on this subject, the two smaller are certainly
copies, the three larger probably not painted by Holbein, and the sixth,
though an original picture, most likely not of Sir Thomas and his
family.”[656]

The Basel sketch (No. 345)[657] (Pl. 74), upon which the various
pictures still in existence are based, affords the most faithful record
we possess of the great work itself, now lost, or buried under the
handiwork of some inferior painter. It represents a large apartment with
a group of ten persons, with two smaller figures seen through an open
door in a room at the back. Sir Thomas More is seated in the centre of
the group, dressed in long robes, his hands concealed in a muff. In
attire, attitude, and expression the sketch agrees very closely with the
portrait of More in the possession of Mr. Edward Huth. On his right
hand, to the spectator’s left, is seated his old father, Sir John More,
a judge of the King’s Bench (anno 76), looking straight out of the
picture. By Sir John’s right side stands Margaret Gigs (anno 22), a
relative of the family, afterwards married to Dr. John Clement. She has
a book in her left hand, to which she points with her right, as though
emphasizing a passage she is reading to the old man, towards whom she
stoops. In front of her, and still further to the spectator’s left, the
outside member of the group, stands Elizabeth Dancey (anno 21), More’s
second daughter, with a book under her arm, drawing on her glove.

On the opposite side, on the spectator’s right, in the foreground, is a
group of three, which includes More’s second wife, Alice Middleton (anno
54), on the extreme right, kneeling on a prie-dieu, with a chained
monkey by her side jumping up against her dress; Margaret Roper (anno
22), More’s eldest and favourite daughter, seated on the ground on a low
stool in front of her stepmother, an open book held in her lap, gazing
in front of her, as though lost in thought over the volume she has been
reading; and Cecilia Heron (anno 20), the youngest girl, seated behind,
and partly concealed by her sister, with a book and rosary in her hand,
and her head turned as though speaking to Lady More. In the centre,
behind Sir Thomas, stand, on the right, his only son, John More (anno
19), looking down, absorbed in a book, and on the left, Anne Cresacre,
his betrothed, a girl in her fifteenth year. The group is completed by
the bluff figure of Henry Patenson, More’s jester, who stands to the
right of More’s son, with arms akimbo in the favourite fashion of Henry
VIII. Over his shoulder, through a doorway, with a kind of porch of open
woodwork which projects into the apartment, are seen the heads of the
two small figures mentioned above. The room in which the group is placed
is probably the dining-hall. On the left there is a sideboard reaching
to the ceiling, with a flower-vase, tankards, and silver plate. On the
sill of a window on the opposite side of the room there are a jug, a
candlestick, and some books. The wall at the back in the centre is
covered with a curtain, in front of which a clock with weights is
hanging, and a violin near it.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 74.


[Illustration:

  STUDY FOR THE MORE FAMILY GROUP
  _Drawing in Indian ink, with corrections and inscriptions in brown_
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: THE NOSTELL PRIORY PICTURE]

The whole arrangement is of a somewhat formal and stately character, and
both in the attitudes and occupations of the figures indicates a house
of learning; even in the foreground books are scattered all over the
floor. This masterly sketch, small as it is, is full of character. Each
figure has marked individuality, and Holbein, with a few slight touches
of his pencil, has in every case given a most truthful likeness, as may
be proved by comparison with the larger studies of seven of the heads
now in the Windsor Collection. From this brilliant study it is quite
possible to gain a very adequate idea of how splendid the finished
picture must have been, if, indeed, Holbein ever completed it. Whether
the Basel drawing was merely Holbein’s first arrangement of the
grouping, hastily done, or a drawing made at More’s request from the
outlined design on the canvas for the purpose of sending it to Erasmus,
is uncertain; but, in any case, the portraiture of all the heads, which
are only sketched in a few lines, is complete and striking, and every
touch stamps it as the work of one who was a master before he had
reached his thirtieth year.

There are various copies of this great family picture in England, mostly
of late origin and showing numerous differences. The only one which has
any real claim to be considered the original work is the large canvas
belonging to Lord St. Oswald at Nostell Priory, near Wakefield, which
has been for many years in the possession of the Winn family (Pl.
75).[658] Most writers have identified it with the picture mentioned by
Carel van Mander, whose book was first published in 1604, as seen by him
in London in the possession of Andries de Loo, who had collected a
number of Holbein’s works. “This lover of art,” he says, “had a large
canvas, painted in water-colours, on which was depicted, as large as
life, from head to foot, the learned and famous Thomas Morus, with his
wife, sons, and daughters, all magnificently arrayed, a piece worthy to
be seen and highly extolled.” On De Loo’s death, he continues, it was
purchased by one of More’s grandsons, who was also named More. According
to the family history, however, the buyer was the son of Margaret Roper,
of Well Hall, Eltham, near Blackheath, where it still remained in 1731,
when it was carefully described by the Rev. J. Lewis. It eventually
passed by marriage to Sir Rowland Winn, of Nostell Priory, the ancestor
of the present owner. Van Mander, it will be noted, says that this
picture was in water-colours, or tempera, on canvas, which, if true,
seems to indicate that it was not the work now at Nostell Priory, though
repeated repairing and varnishing may have rendered the method of its
painting uncertain to decide. Van Mander’s account of Holbein’s career
is by no means free from inaccuracies, but the evidence seems to point
to the fact that his history of the picture is substantially
correct.[659]

There are considerable but, with two exceptions, not very important
differences between the Nostell Priory picture and the Basel sketch. The
latter is seen at once to be a first study for the grouping of the
former, to which the artist adhered closely in almost all points. In the
first place, it is interesting to note that the only two alterations
suggested on the sketch itself, in Holbein’s own handwriting—“Dise soll
sitzen” (she is to be sitting), placed against Lady More, and
“Klafikordi vnd ander Sithespill vf dem bank” (harpsichords and other
instruments on a shelf), to the left on the wall at the back, close by
the cupboard or sideboard, where only a violin is hanging in the
sketch—have both been carried out in the completed picture, though in
the end the painter put the instruments on the sideboard in place of the
silver plate, instead of on a shelf.

The two chief points in which the finished picture deviates from the
sketch are the change in the positions of Elizabeth Dancey and Margaret
Gigs, and the introduction of More’s “famulus,” John Heresius or Harris,
who stands in the doorway at the back, with a roll of parchment in his
hands, while beyond him, in the farther room, is a man standing at a
large bay-window, holding a book which he is reading. The positions of
Elizabeth Dancey and Margaret Gigs have been reversed. The former now
stands next to Sir John, while the latter has taken her place on the
extreme left, and, instead of stooping, stands upright, looking in front
of her, but with her right hand still pointing to the open book in her
left. Her head-dress is less elaborate than in the Basel sketch, and
follows closely the plain white hood she is shown as wearing in the
beautiful study at Windsor, erroneously inscribed “Mother Jak.” Two dogs
are also introduced—a “cur-dog” at the feet of Sir John, and a “Bologna
shock” at the feet of Sir Thomas, to quote from Mr. Lewis.[660] The
various accessories in the room have also been to some extent changed,
both on the sideboard and on the window-sill on the right. The titles of
the books are given in most cases. Thus Margaret Roper holds open
Seneca’s _Œdipus_ at the chorus in Act iv., Elizabeth Dancey has
Seneca’s _Epistles_ under her arm, while _Boetius de Consolatione
Philosophiæ_ is on the sideboard.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 75.


[Illustration:

  THE MORE FAMILY GROUP
  Lord St. Oswald’s collection
  NOSTELL PRIORY
]

[Sidenote: THE NOSTELL PRIORY PICTURE]

The critics are by no means agreed as to the merits of this picture. Dr.
Waagen came to the conclusion that it was nothing more than an old copy,
yet he dated it as about 1530 on technical grounds, due to the redness
of the flesh tints, which he regarded as a characteristic of Holbein’s
painting at that period—a strange conclusion to reach after giving it as
his opinion that it was only a copy. Passavant, Vertue, and Walpole
considered that it was made up by some inferior painter from Holbein’s
separate studies of the heads. “As the portraits of the family,” says
Walpole, “in separate pieces,[661] were already drawn by Holbein, the
injudicious journeyman stuck them in as he found them, and never varied
the lights, which were disposed, as it was indifferent in single heads,
some from the right, some from the left, but which make a ridiculous
contradiction when transported into one piece.”[662] Wornum’s opinion
was that “the picture is without question unequal in its parts, some
portions certainly being unworthy of Holbein; others, though much
better, still bear no trace of the great master’s hand; the want of
finish, too, is in parts apparent. The dogs are very bad, especially the
foremost one; notwithstanding all this, however, there may be a genuine
Holbein groundwork beneath.”[663] Woltmann, who saw it when it was in
the National Portrait Exhibition of 1866, agreed with Waagen that it was
only a good old copy. “Still this large picture is in a high degree
interesting. Though the hand that copied it betrays, indeed, an able but
in nowise clever painter, though the coldness of the execution is
apparent in the unattractive accessories, still it shows us, to a
certain extent, with what careful and delicate study the original
picture had been executed.”[664]

The late Mr. F. G. Stephens examined the picture very carefully in 1880,
and embodied the result of his study in one of his series of articles on
“The Private Collections of England,” published in the _Athenæum._[665]
He came to the conclusion that certain portions were undoubtedly from
the brush of Holbein, but that upon the greater part of the canvas he
had merely sketched or pounced in the design, which had then been
finished by some other painter not skilled enough to follow up with any
success the lines laid down by the greater master, who for some unknown
reason had abandoned the completion of the work. At the same time he was
of opinion that even the parts which he attributed to Holbein by no
means remained in the state in which he left them. His final conclusion
was that Holbein left the canvas with only one head, that of Sir Thomas
More, nearly finished; certain other heads—of Judge More, and the group
of three on the right, Margaret Roper, Cecilia Heron, and Lady More—far
advanced in execution, and one or two others in the background carried
only a little further than the designing stage. Beyond this Holbein did
not go; the remainder was left in outline, subject to correction to be
made as the work proceeded. The man engaged to complete the picture
covered the canvas as well as he could, but failed to retain any of the
beauty of Holbein’s original design, or to introduce the generalising
and systematic light and shade with which Holbein would have brought
each part into harmony, or even to transfer to the canvas the animated
portraiture and other high qualities of the cartoons which were
available for that purpose. Most of the figures are of extreme
disproportion, heads being too large for the bodies, and bodies too
large for the legs, while the actions are awkward, and many of the faces
lack animation and intelligence. The dogs are so bad that Mr. Stephens
was of opinion that they were added even later by a third and still less
skilful painter. On the other hand, he regarded the head of More as “a
marvellous rendering of insight into human character, reproducing with
extreme subtlety the utmost energy of thoughtfulness as marked on a
visage where a far-seeing, vigorous soul has, so to say, written itself
in every line and feature, and manifested itself in those penetrative
yet meditating eyes, those fine thin lips, and affected the fine reserve
of every lineament.”

[Sidenote: THE PICTURE LEFT INCOMPLETE]

This solution is possibly the correct one. All the other versions of the
picture in existence are based on the Nostell Priory example. The Basel
sketch was not available for the purpose, having been sent to Erasmus,
and it is far from likely that all these works were copied or adapted
from some original painting by Holbein now lost. At the death of Sir
Thomas More much of his property was seized by the Crown, but even if
such a picture were taken from the family, it does not follow that it
would be destroyed. Thus there is every probability that the version
seen by Van Mander in the collection of De Loo was the original picture,
and that it was the one now in Nostell Priory. The most natural
supposition is that Holbein was unable to finish it through want of
time. He was back in Basel not later than the summer of 1528, as on the
29th August of that year, exactly two years from the date of Erasmus’
letter to Ægidius, he purchased a house in that city. As a citizen of
Basel he must have obtained leave of absence before starting for
England, and such leave would probably be for two years only, with
penalties attached to it if he failed to return in time. His stay in
England cannot have lasted much more than eighteen months, and during
that period he was very busily occupied. As already shown, the Basel
sketch for the big picture must have been made before 7th February 1527,
on which day More was fifty years old. Curiously enough, on the day
following, 8th February, Holbein started upon an important work of
decoration, described below,[666] which occupied his entire time from
that date until early in April, and for which he received payment from
the royal purse. During the remainder of his first English visit he was
engaged upon a number of portraits, including those of Sir Thomas More,
Lady More, Archbishop Warham, Sir Henry Guldeford and his wife, the
Godsalves, Kratzer, and possibly one or two others, such as Fisher,
Reskimer, and Bryan Tuke, while in the intervals between these
commissions he was, no doubt, busily at work upon the heads of the
Family Group. His recall to Basel may have been peremptory, and so have
forced him to leave in a hurry. In any case, he must have parted on good
terms with More, for he was entrusted with the Basel sketch for delivery
to Erasmus as a present from the author of the _Utopia._ Very possibly
he promised to come back in order to finish the picture, but when a year
or two had passed by without sign of his return, Sir Thomas, having
given up all hope of seeing him again, may have decided to get it
finished by some other painter. When the Nostell Priory picture was
carefully cleaned some thirty-five years ago, it was found to be dated
1530, a date which well agrees with this theory. The same date, 1530, is
on the Basel sketch, but it is below the drawing and by a later hand,
and may have been added by some one who had knowledge of the date on one
or other of the versions of the picture in England, or from the
supposition that More was fifty in that year. The sketch was badly
engraved by Nicolas Cochin in the _Tabellæ Selectæ_ of Caroline Patin,
published in 1691, and on this engraving no date is given. Von Mechel
engraved it in 1794 in his _œuvres de Jean Holbein_, with the date 1530,
so that it was added to the drawing between these two dates. Von Mechel
gives both a facsimile of the original sketch and an engraving which he
inscribes “Ex tabula Joh. Holbenii in Anglia adservata”; but none of the
alterations which Holbein, according to his written notes on the sketch,
proposed to carry out in the finished picture, are shown in this
engraving, which proves that it was not copied from any original
painting. Dr. Woltmann discovered Mechel’s model in a sepia drawing in
the Gothic House at Wörlitz, which is evidently a copy of the original
Basel design, executed long after Holbein’s time, and bearing some
written notices in Lavater’s hand.[667]

A careful description is given by Mr. Wornum[668] of the various
versions of the picture still in existence, all of which are based on
the Nostell Priory example. Two of them were originally of the same size
as the latter, which is 8 ft. 4 in. high by 11 ft. 8 in. wide. One of
these in Walpole’s time was at Barnborough in Yorkshire, the seat of the
Cresacres, and in 1867 in the possession of Mr. Charles John Eyston of
East Hendred, Berkshire; and the other, a similar work, was formerly at
Heron in Essex, the seat of Sir John Tyrrell, and afterwards in the
collection of Lord Petre at Thorndon, near Brentford.

[Sidenote: THE BURFORD PRIORY VERSION]

The East Hendred version measures 7 ft. 8 in. high by 9 ft. 9½ in. wide.
At some time or other it had suffered from damage or decay on the
right-hand side, and has been cut down to fit a panel, so that the
figure of Lady More and her monkey and the more advanced of the two
dogs, together with the window and the vase of flowers, have
disappeared. With the exception of these changes and a few other
unskilful repairs, this picture is in the main identical with the one at
Nostell Priory, though very inferior to it. The Thorndon picture is also
on canvas, and is 8 ft. 3 in. high by 11 ft. 2 in. wide. It is in a
better state than the East Hendred example, and is copied from the same
source, with slight changes. There is only one dog, Lady More is seated
in a large scarlet arm-chair, and there are slight differences in the
minor details, while Sir Thomas is shown with a moustache. Both these
pictures are coarsely painted, and have little but an historical
interest.[669] Wornum also describes a picture on canvas, 4 ft. 7 in. by
3 ft. 9 in., of Sir Thomas and his father, the latter in his scarlet
robes, at Hutton Hall,[670] which was lent to the Tudor Exhibition, 1890
(No. 150), by Sir Henry Vane, Bt., and is apparently copied from the
central portion of the Nostell Priory canvas, with the addition of a
coat of arms, and two original inscriptions over the heads, and the date
1530. Sir Thomas’s age is given as 50 (Ætatis 50), but Sir John’s as 77,
instead of “Anno 76” as in the sketch. Otherwise, in all these pictures,
the ages of the sitters agree with the sketch, though the latter was
done in 1527 and the former in 1530. This may be perhaps explained by
the fact that Sir Thomas wished the ages to be kept as they were at the
time when the studies were made, rather than when the picture was
completed by another hand.

One other version of importance was in Walpole’s day at Burford Priory,
Oxfordshire, the seat of William Lenthall, the Speaker (Pl. 76 ),[671]
who purchased the estate from Viscount Falkland, together with the
pictures in the house. This version of the Group, before the Speaker
owned it, had been in the possession of the Mores, at Gubbins, in
Hertfordshire. By what means it passed into the hands of Lenthall, says
Walpole, is uncertain. He is said to have purchased a number of pictures
from the royal collections at Whitehall and Hampton Court, but the More
Family Group did not come from that source, nor was it acquired from
Viscount Falkland, for, according to Dallaway (note to Walpole, vol. i.
p. 91), it was described by Aubrey in 1670 when in Lenthall’s earlier
home at Besselsleigh, Berks, who says that it had an inscription in
golden letters of about sixty lines. It was bought in at the Lenthall
sale at Christie’s in 1808 for one thousand guineas. It reappeared in
the saleroom in 1833, when it fetched only one hundred guineas, and came
into the possession of the Strickland family of Cokethorpe Park,
Ducklington, Oxfordshire, and, later on, passed from them by marriage to
the Cottrell-Dormer family. A few years ago it was under consideration
by the Trustees of the National Portrait Gallery, but was not purchased,
and, finally, it made a third appearance at Christie’s on 26th February
1910, when it was acquired by Sir Hugh P. Lane for nine hundred and
fifty guineas. It measures 7 ft. 6 in. high by 11 ft. wide, and is dated
1593.[672] It contains eleven figures, and is made up from the original
composition and portraits of later members of the family. Seven of the
figures of Holbein’s group have been pushed to the spectator’s left, the
ones omitted being Lady More, Margaret Gigs, Patenson, and the
secretary, Harris. Elizabeth Dancey has been moved to the centre, behind
and between her two seated sisters. The right side of the picture
contains a group of four people of a later generation, the Chancellor’s
grandson, Thomas More, and his wife, Maria Scrope, and their two sons,
the elder of whom was the Thomas More who wrote the life of his
great-grandfather. In the background there is a sideboard on the left,
as in the Basel sketch, with two vases of flowers, and musical
instruments, and the hanging clock is shown in its original position in
the centre; but on the left the framed portrait of a lady has been
introduced. In addition, coats of arms have been painted above seven of
the heads without regard to the background itself. In an account of the
Priory and its contents, communicated to the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for
August 1799 (vol. lxix. pt. 2, p. 644), by an anonymous correspondent,
who describes the big picture in some detail, the portrait hanging on
the wall is said to represent the wife of Sir John More. There is a
large miniature painting of the picture, which was in the Tudor
Exhibition, 1890 (No. 1087),[673] lent by Major-General F. E. Sotheby,
and attributed to Peter Oliver, as it was by Walpole, who says: “The
painter of this exquisite little piece is unknown, but probably was
Peter Oliver.”[674] The picture and the miniature do not agree, however,
in all the details. The latter includes twelve figures, for Patenson is
introduced in the background peeping through a curtain in the centre.
Only two coats of arms are shown, over the heads of Sir Thomas More and
his father, and on the right-hand side, behind the later group of
portraits, in place of the wall with the lady’s portrait there is an
open archway through which is seen the Mores’ walled garden at Chelsea
and a distant view of London. According to the _Dictionary of National
Biography_, the large picture was the work of Rowland Lockey, who was
working about 1590-1610. He was a pupil of Nicholas Hilliard, and was
extolled by Richard Haydock (1598) and Francis Meres (1598) as among the
eminent artists then living in England. It is stated in Nichol’s
_History of Leicestershire_[675] that he painted “a neat piece in oil,
containing in one table the picture of Sir John More, a judge of the
King’s Bench, _temp._ Henry VIII, and of his wife, and of Sir Thomas
More, lord chancellor, his son and his wife, and of all the lineal heirs
male descended from them, together with each man’s wife unto that
present year.” The expression “neat,” however, would apply more aptly to
the large miniature group, and it is very possible that he was the
author of it.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 76.


[Illustration:

  THE MORE FAMILY GROUP
  The Version formerly at Burford Priory. Now in the possession of
    Messrs. Parkenthorpe.
]

[Sidenote: THE PORTRAIT OF SIR THOMAS MORE]

There are separate studies for the heads of seven of the sitters in the
family picture among the Holbein drawings in Windsor Castle. Sir John
More,[676] Sir Thomas, his son John,[677] his daughters Elizabeth[678]
and Cecilia (Pl. 77),[679] Anne Cresacre,[680] and Margaret
Clement.[681] These are all larger than the majority of the sketches in
the collection, and on white unprimed paper. There are two drawings of
Sir Thomas (Pl. 78),[682] which, although the face is taken from the
same point of view, are not replicas, but distinctly separate studies;
the pose is slightly different, and the hair quite unlike, and it may
perhaps be conjectured that one of them is the study made for the Group,
and the other a later study made shortly before the artist left England.

In addition to the family picture, Holbein painted separate portraits of
Sir Thomas, Lady More, and, possibly, Margaret Roper. The portrait of
More is the well-known one belonging to Mr. Edward Huth,[683] which has
been frequently exhibited, most recently at the Burlington Fine Arts
Club in 1909 (No. 53). Before it came into the possession of the Huth
family it was in the collection of an Irish nobleman, from whom it was
acquired—in payment for a picture-cleaning bill, so it is said—by
Farrer, the picture-dealer, who sold it to Mr. Henry Huth for £1200. It
was probably the first work painted by Holbein after his arrival in
England, and finished early in 1527. It is based on the head in the
Windsor Collection, and the position corresponds with the figure in the
Basel sketch. It is a half-length, seated, three-quarters to the
spectator’s right, with dark hair, and clean-shaven, but the grey of the
moustache and beard indicated. He is dressed in black cap, black gown
lined with brown fur, with deep fur collar, and a golden collar of SS.
with portcullis clasps and Tudor rose pendant. His right elbow rests on
a table to the left, and he holds a folded paper in both hands. The
background consists of a green curtain with a gold fringe, looped back
by a gold cord. The date “MDXXVII” is inscribed on the edge of the
table.

This noble representation of a noble man is one of the finest portraits
painted by Holbein in this country. It has suffered somewhat in the
course of time, but still remains a wonderful study of character,
penetrating in its insight. The nobility of More’s nature, the strength
of his will, the gentleness of his disposition when not roused to just
anger, the firmness of the finely-cut lips, and the penetrating glance
of his bright eyes, have been mirrored by Holbein as though in a glass.
Both the statesman and the scholar stand revealed with that searching
power of seizing the essentials of a man’s nature which is one of the
greatest qualities of Holbein’s art.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 77.


[Illustration:

  CECILIA HERON
  _Drawing in black and coloured chalks_
  WINDSOR CASTLE
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 78.


[Illustration:

  SIR THOMAS MORE
  _Drawing in black and coloured chalks_
  WINDSOR CASTLE
]

A portrait of Sir Thomas was in the Orleans Gallery in 1727, and a
second was in the possession of Lord Lumley in 1590, and was sold from
Lumley Castle in 1785, to Mr. Hay, of Savile Row.[684] The latter was
probably the one now belonging to Mr. Huth, and is the original from
which so many copies have been made.[685] The panel on which it is
painted measures 29 in. by 23½ in. There are also a variety of portraits
scattered about the European museums to which the name of Sir Thomas
More has been attached erroneously. The small portrait by Holbein of Sir
Henry Wyat, father of Sir Thomas Wyat, in the Louvre, was long regarded
as a likeness of More, and is still so described in the official
catalogue.[686] There is another small panel, in the Brussels Museum
(No. 641), to which the names of Holbein and More were attached on the
frame-label until quite recently, although both ascriptions are absurd.
It represents a bearded man with one hand thrust within the folds of his
cloak, and a small book held open with the fingers of the other, and a
small dog on the table in front of him. It was recognised as the work of
some second-rate French artist more than fifty years ago, and bears not
the slightest resemblance to Holbein’s style.[687] M. A. J. Wauters
suggests that it is the work of Nicolas Denisot (1515-1559), a French
poet and painter of modest capacities, who was in England for three
years as French tutor to the three daughters of the Protector Somerset.
Under his guidance these young ladies wrote Latin elegies to Margaret of
Navarre, which were published under his editorship. A portrait of
Margaret, dated 1544, is attributed by M. Bouchot to Denisot. More
recently this work has been attributed to Corneille de Lyon, and is said
to be a portrait of Henry Patenson. There is certainly a slight likeness
between it and the head of Patenson in the Basel study for the More
Family Group.

[Sidenote: LEGEND ABOUT A PORTRAIT OF MORE]

A curious legend with regard to a portrait of More which Henry VIII is
said to have possessed, was contributed to the _Athenæum_ by Dr.
Augustus Jessop.[688] He found it among the papers of the Hon. Roger
North, in a somewhat elaborate “Register of Pictures” at one time in
North’s custody. In giving an account of a portrait of Pope Gregory XIV,
which his brother Montague had bought at Marseilles in 1693, he adds:
“This picture is judged to be by Pomerantius, painter to Gregory XIV,
who was in England _tempore_ Henry VIII, concerning whom the following
story is told. _The picture of Sir T. More done by Holbein_ was in
Whitehall when the news was brought to Henry VIII that Sir Thomas More
was beheaded. And the King fell into a passion upon the news, and
running to the picture, _tore it down and threw it out of the window.
And the picture in the fall broke in three pieces_; but Pomerantius,
then coming by, took it up, carried it home, and so put it together and
mended the colours that it is not to be discovered that it was ever
broke.”

However much or however little truth there may be in this story, which
was apparently current in the seventeenth century, it is certain, in any
case, that “Pomerantius” can have had nothing to do with its rescue.
Niccolo Circignano (Il Pomarancio) was born in 1519, and would be a lad
of sixteen at the time when More was executed; nor is there any evidence
to show that he was ever in England. He appears to have spent the
greater part of his life in Rome. The account errs, also, in saying that
he was painter to Gregory XIV, for he died in 1590, aged seventy-two, in
which year Gregory XIV became Pope. North’s story is very similar to the
one told by Baldinucci.[689] The latter, who describes the picture as a
stupendous portrait, says that Henry kept it in an apartment together
with those of some other eminent men. “It happened that on the very day
of the ex-chancellor’s death (after the king had reproached her), the
wicked Queen Anne Boleyn cast her eyes upon it, and seeing the
expressive face of her enemy looking at her as if he were still
living—she never forgave his refusal to be present at her wedding—she
was seized with a feeling of either horror or remorse, and unable to
endure the steady gaze and the reproaches of her own conscience, she
threw open the window of the palace, and exclaiming, ‘Oh me! the man
seems to be still alive,’ flung the picture into the street: a passer-by
picked it up and carried it away, and eventually it found a
resting-place in Rome, where in Baldinucci’s time it was still preserved
in the Palazzo de’ Crescenzi.”[690] If this story has any foundation in
fact, it is possible that Circignano may have put the picture in order
after it reached Rome; but it can hardly have been the one belonging to
Mr. Huth, as Dr. Jessop suggested. Wornum was of opinion that this
legendary work might possibly be identified with an unnamed portrait by
Holbein mentioned by an earlier Italian writer than Baldinucci,
Francesco Scannelli, who, in an account of “an ultramontane painter
named Olbeno,”[691] after praising the portrait of Morette, then in the
gallery of the Duke of Modena, for its exact imitation of nature, says:
“A similar excellence is shown in the small portrait by the same master,
now at Rome in the possession of Monsignor Campori.” Mr. Wornum also
suggested that this small work praised by Scannelli might be identical
with the portrait of Sir Henry Wyat in the Louvre, which at the time he
was writing (1867) was generally regarded as a portrait of More.

[Sidenote: MINIATURE OF SIR THOMAS MORE]

Holbein’s work as a miniature painter is dealt with in a later chapter,
but while speaking of the portraits of More, it is impossible to omit
reference to the exceedingly fine miniature painting of him to which
attention was first called by Dr. Williamson.[692] It was then in the
possession of the Quicke family, of Newton St. Cyres, Devon; but in July
1905, it was sold at Messrs. Christie’s by the order of the trustees of
the late Mr. John Quicke, and passed into the collection of the late Mr.
J. Pierpont Morgan. In position, dress, and accessories it bears a close
resemblance to Mr. Huth’s picture, upon which it may have been
based.[693] It is circular, 2⅜ in. in diameter, painted on thin paper,
mounted on a playing card, and is contained in a metal and enamel frame.
On the back of the card, in a hand very little later than the date of
the portrait, is written the one word “Holben,” while on the reverse of
the frame is inscribed “THOMAS MORUS CANCELLARIVS HOLBEIN PINX.” The
background is bright blue. For close upon one hundred years it had been
in the house in Devonshire, and had attached to its frame a small scrap
of paper, on which was written, in a script of the early Stuart period,
the information as to whom it represented, and by whom it was painted.
The Ropers were connected with the Quickes by marriage, and as the
connection dates from a period soon after the death of Sir Thomas More,
the family tradition which states that the portrait has been handed down
from the time when the great statesman perished on the scaffold has
every likelihood of being true.

It has usually been asserted that the portrait of Sir Thomas More is the
only independent portrait of a member of the More family painted by
Holbein, with the possible exception of the panel at Knole, which by
some is regarded as a likeness of Margaret Roper. There was, however, a
small panel portrait, 14 in. by 10 in., exhibited at the Royal Academy
Winter Exhibition, 1910 (No. 106), as by Holbein, lent by General Lord
Methuen, which is undoubtedly a portrait of Lady More. It was catalogued
under the erroneous title of “Mrs. Anne Roper,” with a note which stated
that it “has also been thought to be a portrait by Mabuse, of Margaret,
Countess of Richmond and Derby, mother of Henry VIII.” There was no Mrs.
Anne Roper in Holbein’s day; and the “Anne” is probably a mistake for
“Margaret” on the part of the person who first misnamed the picture. The
portrait really represents Margaret Roper’s stepmother, as a comparison
with the head of Lady More in the Basel sketch conclusively proves.
There is a strong likeness between the two, and the position of the
figure, with the head slightly bent down, and an open book held in both
hands on her lap, is the same in both. It is a half-length figure,
seated to the left, with a dark dress trimmed with fur and red
under-sleeves, black angular head-dress with black fall, and a white cap
underneath. She wears a triple gold chain round her neck, with crucifix
attached, and a medallion brooch with three pendant pearls. The
background is a dark blue-green. The brushwork is weak and hesitating,
but it is possibly a much-damaged and repainted original panel by
Holbein, though practically nothing of the master’s own handiwork is now
visible. If not a badly-damaged original, it must be a nearly
contemporary copy from a lost picture by him, rather than one taken from
the figure in the Nostell Priory version. Curiously enough, the use of
the name “Anne” in conjunction with Roper—Lady More’s name was
“Alice”—is also to be found on the back of a miniature after Holbein in
the Royal Collection, which at one time, before the inscription was
uncovered, was said to represent Queen Katherine of Aragon. It is
inscribed in two lines—“Anna Roper Thomæ Mori Filia. W. Hollar pinxit
post Holbeinium, 1652.” Here the “Anne” is evidently a mistake for
“Margaret” or “Mar.,” perhaps made by Hollar himself when copying the
original; or, possibly, the original may have been a portrait of Lady
More, a companion miniature to the one already described of Sir Thomas,
to which an erroneous title had become attached before Hollar was
employed to copy it.[694]

The portrait of Margaret Roper at Knole, which for many years has been
generally known as Queen Katherine of Aragon, was exhibited by Lord
Sackville at the Burlington Fine Arts Club in 1909 (No. 44).[695] The
same portrait was lent, as “Queen Katherine,” to the National Portrait
Exhibition in 1866 (No. 78), by the Countess Delawarr. It is probably a
nearly contemporary copy of a lost original by Holbein, and corresponds
closely, excepting for slight differences in the hands, with the figure
in the Basel sketch. It is a three-quarters length, on panel, 25½ in. by
19½ in., the figure turned three-quarters to the left, with
diamond-shaped hood embroidered with gold, a square-cut black and white
dress, edged with jewels, over a transparent chemisette, and cloth of
gold sleeves. A string of black beads and a fine gold chain are round
her neck, and a cinquefoil jewel at her breast. She holds a book open
with both hands, on a table in front of her. The inscription, “Queen
Cathrine,” is in an eighteenth-century hand.

[Sidenote: DRAWING OF AN ENGLISH LADY]

There is a brilliant drawing of an English lady by Holbein in the
collection bequeathed by Mr. George Salting to the nation (Pl. 79),
which was included in the same exhibition at the Burlington Fine Arts
Club (No. 72), a study in black and red chalks, heightened with white,
and reinforced with Indian ink, upon pale pink-tinted paper.[696] The
sheet has been cut round the outline by some vandal, but the drawing
itself is entirely free from the retouching which disfigures certain of
the Windsor heads. The high lights on the cheek, nose, and eyes are put
in with white, and red chalk is used sparingly on the lips and
elsewhere. The band of hair which shows beneath the coif is washed with
yellowish brown. It has been suggested by more than one critic that it
is a portrait of Margaret Roper, but as Mr. Campbell Dodgson, who
contributed a note upon it for the Vasari Society, points out, so far as
the evidence of the Basel drawing goes, the identification appears
possible, but not convincing. It is not one of the preliminary studies
for the picture itself, which were done on white paper, and if it
represents Margaret Roper, she must have sat again to Holbein after his
return to England in 1532. According to the same authority, it is
probably the “Portrait of a Lady,” lot 48 in the Jonathan Richardson
sale, 1746, in which case it was bought by Knapton, whose drawings were
sold in 1804. Later on it was in the collections of the Marquis of
Stafford and Lord Ronald Sutherland Gower. It is certainly one of the
very finest Holbein drawings in existence. “No portrait-study of a
woman,” says Sir Claude Phillips, “even in the great Windsor series,
equals this in the spiritual beauty which illumines and transforms—or
rather interprets—a presentment of quiet and unforced realism. But
rarely the great portraitist allows himself thus to lay bare for the
beholder the inner workings of the soul; as a rule he contents himself
with a supreme truth which is not infrequently as difficult to unravel
as Nature herself.”[697]

Finally, there is a picture belonging to the Bray family of Shere,
which, from an old inscription on the frame, is said to be a portrait of
Margaret, whose daughter was one of the four wives of Sir Edward
Bray.[698] The likeness to the Basel sketch, however, is not very
evident, and the picture has no pretence to be by Holbein. The sitter
wears a close-fitting white cap with long ends falling on her breast,
and holds a rosary attached to a large circular ornament which forms
part of her girdle. The background is a landscape, with a view of the
bend of a wide river running between high cliffs.[699]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 79.


[Illustration:

  PORTRAIT OF AN ENGLISH LADY
  _Drawing in black and red chalk, and Indian ink_
  SALTING BEQUEST, BRITISH MUSEUM
]


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                              CHAPTER XIV

    THE FIRST VISIT TO ENGLAND: OTHER PORTRAITS AND DECORATIVE WORK

Holbein’s work for the temporary Banqueting House at Greenwich—The “Plat
  of Tirwan”—Portraits of Sir Henry and Lady Guldeford—William Warham,
  Archbishop of Canterbury—John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester—Thomas and
  John Godsalve—Niklaus Kratzer, the astronomer—Undated portraits—Sir
  Bryan Tuke—Reskimer—Sir Henry Wyat—Sir Thomas and Lady Eliot—Drawing
  of an unknown man at Chatsworth.


POSSIBLY one of the causes which prevented the immediate completion of
the large picture of the More family in the spring of 1527 was the
commission Holbein received at this time for decorative work of an
important nature, for which he obtained payment from the royal purse.
Early in 1527 negotiations were in progress between Henry VIII and
Francis I for an alliance, which was to be strengthened in the future by
the marriage of the Princess Mary, then eleven years of age, and
heir-presumptive to the English throne, with either Francis himself or
one of his sons. The ratification of this alliance was celebrated at
Greenwich on Sunday, the 5th of May 1527, by a series of festivities
with which Henry entertained the French ambassadors. A mass, at which
the King and ambassadors swore to observe the league, was followed by a
tournament, and, in the evening, a grand banquet, in a magnificent
building, specially erected for the occasion, in the decoration of which
there is every reason to believe that Holbein took a leading part.

Hall, in his _Triumphant Reigne of Kyng Henry the VIII_, published in
1548, gives a long description of this banqueting house, and its
contents, from which a short extract may be quoted here:—

“The Kyng against that night had caused a banket house to bee made on
the one syde of the tylt yarde at Grenewyche of an hundreth foote of
length and XXX foote bredth, the roofe was purple cloth full of roses
and Pomgarnettes, the wyndowes were al clere stories with currious
monneles strangely wrought, the Jawe peces and crestes were karved with
Vinettes and trails of savage worke, and richely gilted with gold and
Byse, thys woorke corbolying bare the candelstyckes of antyke woorke
whiche bare little torchettes of white waxe, these candelstickes were
polished lyke Aumbre: at the one syde was a haute place for herawldes
and minstrelles.” Then, after bestowing his admiration on the cupboards
of gold and silver plate, he continues his description of the building:
“At the nether ende were twoo broade arches upon thre Antike pillers all
of gold burnished swaged and graven full of Gargills and Serpentes,
supportying the edifices the Arches were vawted with Armorie, al of Bice
and golde, and above the Arches were made many sondri Antikes and
divises.”

“When supper was done,” he adds later, “the kyng, the quene and the
ambassadors ... rose and went out of the banket chambre bi the forsaied
Arches, and when they were betwene the uttermoste dore and the Arches
the kyng caused them to turne backe and loke on that syde of the Arches,
and there they sawe how Tyrwin was beseged, and the very maner of every
mans camp, very connyingly wrought, whiche woorke more pleased them then
the remembrying of the thyng in dede. From thens they passed by a long
galerie richely hanged into a chambre faire and large.” In this chamber,
after a Latin oration and other set recitations, some hours were spent
in masking and dancing, after which a return was made to the
banquet-house for a second supper. “And after that all was doen the kyng
and all other went to rest, for the night was spent, and the day even at
the breakyng.... These two houses ... the kyng commaunded should stand
still, for thre or foure daies, that al honest persones might see and
beholde the houses and riches, and thether came a great nombre of
people, to see and behold the riches and costely devices.”

[Sidenote: THE BANQUETING HOUSE]

This temporary building was apparently the most elaborate of its kind
erected in England during the reign of Henry VIII, and it may be taken
for certain that Holbein had much to do with it, both as regards work
from his own brush, and also in the supervision of a number of other
painters and decorators employed upon it. The accounts of the expenses
incurred in its building are still preserved in the Record Office, and
abstracts from them are published in the _Calendars of Letters and
Papers, Foreign and Domestic, of the Reign of Henry VIII._ More detailed
abstracts are given by Mr. F. M. Nichols, F.S.A., who went through the
original documents most carefully, in a paper read before the Society of
Antiquaries, on March 31, 1898.[700]

Throughout these detailed accounts of the wages paid by Richard Gibson,
there is constant mention of one “Master Hans,” and however common such
a Christian name may have been in Germany, there is no record of any
other foreign artist in England at this period named Hans but Holbein,
who elsewhere is more than once referred to as Master Hans. Sir Henry
Guldeford, comptroller of the King’s household, an intimate friend of
More, and a correspondent of Erasmus, had official charge of the
erection of this banquet-house, and his portrait was painted by Holbein
in the same year, and possibly at about the same time, for Guldeford is
represented as wearing his chain as a Knight of the Garter, which honour
was bestowed upon him on April 24, 1527. He must thus have had full
knowledge of Holbein’s capabilities, and would naturally turn to him for
assistance on this occasion, when everything had to be done in a hurry,
and as many painters as possible pressed into the service. Then again,
Sir Henry Wyat, treasurer of the Chamber, whom Holbein also painted
during his first visit to England, was associated with Guldeford in the
building of this “banketing-house,” so that the painter would have a
second friend at court. It seems practically certain, therefore, that
Holbein was the “Master Hans” of the accounts.

Work was begun on the 15th January, 1527, and about a dozen painters
were employed for the next three weeks, at wages ranging from 6_d._ to
12_d._ a day. Only one of them, Robert Wrytheoke, received a shilling a
day. He was a maker of moulds and casts, and supplied the plaster
figures and ornamental pillars. On Friday, the 8th February, the
following entry appears for the first time:—

“Master Nycolas at the kyngs plessyer.

“Master Hans the day iiii._s._”[701]

This entry is repeated, with only four days’ interval, until Saturday
the 3rd of March. According to Mr. Nichols, the same distinction between
the terms of the two painters’ employment is kept up throughout all the
entries, the meaning of which appears to be that while Holbein’s payment
was fixed by agreement at 4_s._ a day, the remuneration of Master
Nycolas was left to be subsequently settled at the discretion of his
employers.

In the course of the work Holbein came in contact with many of the chief
English painters and a number of the foreign artists in Henry’s service,
and it is interesting to note, as some indication of the estimation in
which he was already held by certain of the court officials, that he was
more highly paid than any of his associates. Among those who assisted in
the work were John Browne, the King’s serjeant-painter, who supplied
much of the material; “Vincent Vulp and Ellys Carmyan, Italian
painters,” who received 20_s._ a week; John Demyans (Giovanni da Maiano)
and the “Italian painters and gilders, Nicholas Florentine, at 2_s._,
and Domyngo (Domenico), at 16_d._ day and night.” This Nicholas of
Florence was probably the same man as the Master Nycolas mentioned above
as associated with Holbein. Among the casters of lead employed were two
other Italians, Archangell and Raphael, while John Rastall supplied
“divers necessaries bought for the trimming of the Father of Heaven,
lions, dragons, and greyhounds holding candlesticks.” A number of other
names are included, chiefly English mercers, embroiderers, saddlers,
plumbers, hosiers, and other tradesmen.

Detailed accounts of the materials used are given, and frequent entries
occur of colours “spent by Master Hans and his company on the roof”—“Mr.
Hans and the painters on the four cloths”—“Black collars for Mr. Hans,
3_s._ 4_d._”—and so on. These extracts seem to show that Holbein was
employed to direct all the painters and gilders engaged, and no doubt
the decorations were largely of his design. It has been impossible, so
far, to identify Master Nycolas, then in the King’s service, who worked
with him. He cannot have been Nicolas Bellin, who was occupied at
Fontainebleau at this period, and did not visit England until some ten
years later. The only other Italian named Nicolas mentioned in the State
Papers was Nicolas Lasora, who, in 1532, was employed on the decoration
of Westminster Palace.[702]

[Sidenote: “THE PLAT OF TIRWAN”]

Holbein and Nycolas were thus occupied at Greenwich for nineteen days,
with the interval of one Sunday’s rest, having been kept at work during
two other Sundays, when the ordinary workmen were taking holiday.
Holbein’s daily attendance at the Banqueting House appears to have
ceased on Sunday, the 3rd of March, though this was by no means the end
of his connection with the decoration of the building. For the next
month he was busily engaged either in London or at Chelsea in painting a
large composition for the decoration of the back of the triumphal
arch—the picture spoken of in such high terms by Hall, showing “how
Tyrwin was beseged.” This picture was so far advanced by the 11th March
that it and a number of other painted canvases were placed temporarily
in position for the inspection of the King. Holbein had completed his
particular share in the work by the 4th of April, when the picture was
fetched from London by Lewis Demoron, who received 16_d._, “for his
bote-hire to London for fetching of the plat of Tirwan.” The complete
decoration of the building was not finished till the 5th May, on the eve
of the festivities, and no doubt Holbein resumed his supervision, though
it is not mentioned in the accounts. For his large painting, which
occupied him for about three weeks, he received the payment of £4,
10_s._, which is equal to about £60 or £70 of modern money. The entry in
the accounts runs as follows: “Paid to Master Hans for the payneting of
the plat of Tirwan which standeth on the baksyde of the grete arche, in
grete iiij_l._ x_s._”—the words “in grete” meaning that he received a
sum down for the work, instead of a daily wage.

Mr. F. M. Nichols first called attention to this work of Holbein’s in
_The Hall of Lawford Hall_, published in 1891, and in the same year Mr.
Alfred Beaver, in his _Memorials of Old Chelsea_, referred to some of
the details in Dr. Brewer’s abstracts. Mr. Beaver was of opinion that
the old picture of the “Battle of Spurs” at Hampton Court, in earlier
days attributed to Holbein, was the very “plat of Tirwan” in question.
This, however, is not correct. “The Battle of Spurs” was certainly not
painted by Holbein, but by some much inferior artist. It has been
attributed to Vincent Volpe and other of the minor foreign artists then
in England, and probably was painted in commemoration of the victory
shortly after the battle itself, which took place in 1513. It is on
wood, and measures 4 ft. 4 in. high by 8 ft. 6 in. wide, whereas
Holbein’s picture was on canvas, and was evidently much larger, for we
learn from Richard Gibson’s accounts that it took twenty-four ells of
fine canvas “for the lyning of the baksyde of the grete Arche wheruppon
Tirwin is staynyd,” at a cost of 15 shillings. “It thus appears,” says
Mr. Nichols, “that about 90 feet of fine canvas (which we may suppose to
have been a yard or not much less in width) was required to cover the
back of the arch, and the main decoration of this widespread surface of
some 20 or 30 square yards appears to have been the picture in
question.”

The two pictures differed materially in subject. It is to be gathered
from Hall’s account that Holbein’s painting represented the actual siege
of Terouenne, whereas the Hampton Court panel shows the pursuit of the
French cavalry and their surrender to the English, though the town of
Terouenne, with its fortifications and houses, is shown plainly in the
middle distance. In any case the subject, the defeat of the French by
the English, seems to have been a singularly inappropriate one for the
particular occasion for which it was painted, the ratification of a
solemn treaty between England and France, and there was little delicacy
in Henry’s humour in pointing it out to his guests! Even Hall intimates
that they were more pleased with the painting of it than with the
remembrance of the incident. The subject may have been suggested by
Guldeford, who was Henry’s standard-bearer at Terouenne, and knighted
after Tournay. The picture itself has disappeared, like so many of
Holbein’s large decorative works; not even a study for it has been so
far discovered.

It is somewhat extraordinary, considering Henry’s evident appreciation
of this “plat,” and the interest he took in the general decoration of
the Banqueting House, that Holbein was not at once taken into the royal
service. His work at Greenwich must have afforded ample proof of his
powers as an artist, and the King was only too anxious to offer
inducements to the best foreign painters to settle in England. It has
been suggested that this lack of recognition was due to jealousy on the
part of certain other painters then employed about the Court, but this
does not appear a very plausible explanation, for Henry was by no means
a man to be influenced in this way. This lack of royal patronage is all
the more extraordinary when it is remembered that at the time Holbein
was at work as a portrait-painter for several of Henry’s favourite
servants, and that in all probability the portrait of More, if not
others, had been seen by the King, who is said to have been fond of
paying unexpected visits to the future Lord Chancellor at Chelsea.
Whatever the reason, however, the fact remains that Holbein’s name does
not appear in the royal accounts until much later, nor is there any
portrait of the King by him of this date, or of Queen Katherine, or any
other evidence to show that he held any official position at Court
during his first residence in England.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF SIR HENRY GULDEFORD]

There are only three portraits by Holbein which bear the date 1527—those
of Sir Thomas More, Sir Henry Guldeford, and Archbishop Warham; and only
two of the date 1528—Niklaus Kratzer, the King’s German astronomer, and
the double portrait of Thomas Godsalve of Norwich, and his son John,
though several others, undated, may be ascribed to this period with some
certainty. The portrait of Guldeford (Pl. 80),[703] in the royal
collection at Windsor Castle, was probably begun shortly after Holbein’s
work at Greenwich was finished, and was painted to commemorate the
sitter’s advancement as a Knight of the Garter on April 24, a few days
before the festivities took place, as he is wearing the chain of the
order across his shoulders.

He is shown at half-length, the body turned slightly to the spectator’s
right, the light coming in from the left. He is clean shaven, with bushy
hair covering his ears, and wears a doublet of patterned cloth of gold,
cut square, above a white shirt. Over it is a dark gown with a wide
collar of brown fur and short sleeves, leaving the gold sleeves of his
doublet uncovered. The thumb of his left hand is thrust into his girdle,
and in his right hand he holds the white staff of his office as
Comptroller of the Household. On the brim of his flat black cap is a
circular medallion the design on which cannot now be deciphered. In the
Print Room of the British Museum, however, there is an etching of this
hat-badge, or “singular ornament on an escutcheon,” as a note upon the
print terms it, which apparently was made when the picture was at
Kensington Palace early in the eighteenth century, from which it appears
that it represented a clock, a pair of compasses, and other instruments.
Guldeford wears a thin double gold chain round his neck, the lower part
of which is hidden by his doublet, and over his shoulders the Collar of
the Order of the Garter with the pendant George. The background is dark
green, with a dark green curtain on the spectator’s right, hanging by
rings on an iron rod, which extends right across the upper part of the
picture, and on the left a sprig of vine-tree foliage. In the upper
left-hand corner is painted a white label, on which is inscribed in
cursive letters: “ANNO D. MCCCCCXXVII. ETATIS SUÆ XL IX.” The age
painted on the cartel is somewhat perplexing, as it indicates that the
sitter was forty-nine in 1527, whereas during the proceedings relating
to the divorce of Queen Katherine,[704] Guldeford himself declared that
his age in 1529, two years later, was only forty. Mr. Law suggests as a
solution that at some time or other, in some process of restoration, the
figures have been tampered with, and the fact that the XL is separated
from the IX by a blank space of about a figure in width, adds some
probability to his suggestion, while the face seems scarcely to be that
of a man as old as forty-nine.[705]

The masterly original drawing for this portrait, in the Windsor
Collection,[706] is inscribed “Harry Guldeford Knight,” and this,
according to the same writer, may be the sole authority for the name
bestowed on the picture, the untrustworthiness of some of these
inscriptions being well known. Hollar’s engraving of the portrait,
however, which was made in 1647, is inscribed with the name of
Guldeford; and the fact that there is a companion engraving of his wife,
entitled “the Lady Guldeforde,” and inscribed “Holbein pinxit, W. Hollar
fecit, ex collectione Arundeliana A^o 1647, Ætatis 28, A^o 1527,”
confirms the claims of this picture to be an authentic portrait of Sir
Henry Guldeford. Both portraits were in the Arundel Collection, and are
entered in the 1655 inventory as “Ritratto del Cavaglier Guildford” and
“Ritratto della moglie sua.” They came to the Earl with other works by
Holbein from the Lumley Collection. In addition to these portraits, Lord
Arundel also possessed a miniature or small oil painting of
Guldeford—“Ritratto del Cavaglier Guiltfort in piccolo.” It is possible
that this small portrait is the one which Hollar copied, as his
engravings of Guldeford and his wife are both roundels.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 80.


[Illustration:

  SIR HENRY GULDEFORD
  1527
  WINDSOR CASTLE
]

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF SIR HENRY GULDEFORD]

There is a miniature at Windsor, a portrait obviously of the same man,
in which the face is younger, and the collar of the Garter is absent,
which apparently was painted some years before Holbein came to England,
and may be the one formerly in the Arundel Collection.[707] A small copy
of the Windsor picture, inscribed “Ser. Harry Gylldford,” was lent to
the Tudor Exhibition, 1890 (No. 146), by the Hon. H. Tyrwhitt
Wilson.[708] Guldeford was the only son of Sir Richard Guldeford, K.G.,
by his second wife, Joan, sister of Sir Nicholas Vaux, afterwards Lord
Vaux of Harrowden. He was a great favourite of the King’s, and his
companion in all his sports and pastimes. He received many honours from
the royal hands, and became successively Squire of the Body, King’s
Standard-Bearer, Knight Banneret, Master of the Revels, Comptroller of
the Household, and Master of the Horse. He remained in high favour with
Henry, in spite of the enmity of Anne Boleyn, caused by his opposition
to the divorce except after a papal sentence. He died in 1533, shortly
after Holbein’s second arrival in England.

This portrait, which is one of the finest of Holbein’s works now in the
Royal Collection, is a dignified and lifelike representation, full of
character, while the details of the rich and elaborate dress, and the
sumptuous collar of the Garter, are painted with exquisite truth and
care. The face has a peculiar yellow tint, concerning which Woltmann
remarks: “It has been taken for granted that the head has been painted
over; but such is not the case—on the contrary, it is in a remarkably
good state of preservation. The colour must have been a peculiarity of
the person portrayed. This may be inferred from its being indicated in a
like manner in the drawing at Windsor Castle.”[709]

Little is known of the history of the panel. In 1590 it, or a replica of
it, was in the possession of Lord Lumley at Lumley Castle, together with
the companion panel of Lady Guldeford, and it is described in the
inventory as “Of Sir Henry Guilfourd, Coumptroller to K’. H’. 8, drawne
by Haunce Holbyn.” It reappears, as noted above, in the seventeenth
century in the Earl of Arundel’s Collection, while in the eighteenth
more than one reference to it in contemporary literature shows that it
was then in Kensington Palace.[710] It was engraved in a small circle in
Anstis’ _Order of the Garter_, 1724, in which his age is given as forty;
by Vertue in 1726 for Knight’s _Life of Erasmus_, and again in 1791 by
Schiavonetti, after a drawing by S. Harding, and described as “from an
original picture by Holbein in the possession of Sir William
Burrell”—that is, from the copy, possibly an almost contemporary
one,[711] which was destroyed in the Knepp Castle fire in January 1904,
together with one of Lady Guldeford, and other replicas of well-known
Holbein portraits.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 81.


[Illustration:

  JOHN FISHER
  Bishop of Rochester
  _Drawing in black and coloured chalks_
  WINDSOR CASTLE
]

[Illustration:

  UNKNOWN ENGLISH LADY
  _Drawing in black and coloured chalks_
  BASEL GALLERY
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 82.


[Illustration:

  UNKNOWN ENGLISHMAN
  Bishop of Rochester
  _Drawing in black and coloured chalks_
  BASIL GALLERY
]

[Illustration:

  UNKNOWN ENGLISH LADY
  _Drawing in black and coloured chalks_
  BASEL GALLERY
]

The portrait of Lady Guldeford,[712] lent by Mr. Frewen to the National
Portrait Exhibition at South Kensington in 1868, and to the Royal
Academy Winter Exhibition, 1880 (No. 171), was at Lumley Castle in 1590,
and is entered in the inventory as “Of the La. Guilfourd, wife to Sir
Harry Guilfourd, Coumptroller, drawne by Haunce Holbyn”; and at a later
period was in the Duke of Buckingham’s Collection at Stowe. This once
fine portrait has been much rubbed, repaired, and over-varnished, but
according to Sir George Scharf and the late Mr. F. G. Stephens, its
genuineness as a work of Holbein is unquestionable. This is proved, says
the latter,[713] “by the vigorous expression of the penetrating eyes of
the lady, the still evident luminosity of the flesh, the imperiousness
of the delicately cut nostrils, the exquisite execution of the details,
and the energy imparted to the much injured hands. The fine painting of
the sleeve of gold illustrates the practice of Holbein and his school in
employing leaf gold to impart lustre to the fabric.... The best proof of
the genuineness of ‘Lady Guildford’ is the exquisite execution of the
branch of vine in the background, a feature which appears in several of
Holbein’s paintings.... The Guildford portraits are both distinguished
by the energy of the motives they exhibit, the precision, mastery, and
complete softness of the modelling; this is the unfailing test of the
genuineness of work ascribed to Holbein.... Another test is supplied by
the flossy silk-like character of the hair and beards of the sitters
whenever the works have, as in the ‘Reskimer,’ escaped restoration.”
This portrait is now in the collection of Mr. W. C. Vanderbilt, New
York; and there is a good early miniature copy of it in the possession
of Mrs. Joseph,[714] which in earlier days was said to represent
Katherine of Aragon. That it is a portrait of Lady Guldeford, however,
is proved by Hollar’s engraving,[715] with which it is in close
agreement. There is a fine drawing of an English lady, in black and
coloured chalks, in the Basel Collection (Pl. 81 (2)),[716] which
appears to be a study for this portrait, though, if so, Holbein made
several slight alterations when he came to paint the picture. It shows
the six gold bands or chains which are looped across the lady’s breast
and carried over the shoulders, and the head-dress is the same. There is
a second study of a lady of Henry VIII’s Court at Basel (Pl. 82
(2)),[717] also in black and coloured chalks, which has considerable
facial likeness to Lady Guldeford, though there are slight differences
in the ornamentation of the angular head-dress and bodice. Two links of
a heavy chain are drawn in detail on the breast. In the same collection
there is a portrait drawing of this lady’s husband (Pl. 82 (1)),[718]
which in turn bears a considerable resemblance to the Windsor head of
Guldeford, while the dress, cap, and bushy hair over the ears are the
same. It is possible that these two drawings represent Sir Henry and his
wife.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF WILLIAM WARHAM]

One of the finest of the earlier drawings in the Windsor Collection is
the magnificent head of William Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury,[719]
which, though badly rubbed and damaged, remains a wonderful example of
the truth and vividness of Holbein’s portraiture. It is on unprimed
paper, 17 in. high by 12 in. wide. It was natural that the painter
should turn to Warham for employment, not only through his close
friendship with Sir Thomas More, but as the friend also and generous
patron of Erasmus; and, no doubt, the artist carried with him from Basel
a letter of recommendation from the latter, who also some little time
before had sent his own portrait by Holbein as a gift to the Archbishop.
Warham was seventy years old when Holbein painted him, and had long
since retired from all active political life, having relinquished his
post as Lord Chancellor to Wolsey in 1515. He still, however, retained
his high ecclesiastical office, in spite of more than one indignity put
upon him by the Cardinal. He was a leading representative of the older
age then passing away, and his last days were far from happy ones.

There are two versions of Holbein’s portrait of him, almost identical,
and both based upon the Windsor drawing, one in Lambeth Palace[720] and
the other in the Louvre (Pl. 83).[721] He is represented at half-length,
seated, turned towards the left, his hands resting on a cushion covered
with gold brocade. He is dressed in his episcopal robes, with a deep fur
collar, and a black, closely-fitting cap. On the spectator’s right, on
the table, is an open service book, and farther back on a shelf, behind
the sitter’s left shoulder, are other books and his jewelled mitre; and
to the left a magnificent crucifix of gold and jewels. The background
consists of a curtain, which is yellowish brown in the Lambeth picture,
and green in the Louvre version. The latter is the more brilliant and
harmonious in colouring, and painted in a thicker impasto, the Lambeth
example being greyer in tone and more dryly executed, and, perhaps, more
carefully modelled. Both have suffered somewhat from the passage of
time, more particularly in the face, but both are evidently from
Holbein’s own hand, and are masterly studies of character, representing
the wrinkled old man, saddened by adversities, and by the modern
movements which he had not strength to stem, but always kindly and
generous to all scholars and others who needed his help, and a sincere
lover of learning. Both pictures have a cartel in the top right-hand
corner with the inscription “Anno Dm̅̅. MDxxvij. Etatis sue LXX.,” and
round the base of the crucifix the words “AVXILIVM MEVM A DEO” (My help
is from God). In the execution of the numerous details of the ornaments,
the jewels decorating the mitre, the patterns of the embroideries, the
lettering, and particularly in the figure of Christ on the crucifix, the
mastery of Holbein’s brush is everywhere in evidence. They are drawn
with the utmost delicacy and truth, and while adding to the
sumptuousness of the picture in no way detract the attention from the
nobility and dignity of the portrait itself.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 83.


[Illustration:

  WILLIAM WARHAM, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY
  1527
  LOUVRE, PARIS
]

[Sidenote: PORTRAITS OF WARHAM AND FISHER]

The Lambeth version is said to have been presented to Warham by Sir
Thomas More or by Holbein himself, though there is no reason to suppose
that it was not paid for in the usual way by the sitter. “It was lost
during the civil wars, but was recovered again, as was supposed, by Sir
William Dugdale, who restored it to Lambeth in the time of Archbishop
Sancroft.”[722] Walpole states that “Archbishop Parker entailed this,
and another of Erasmus, on his successors; they were stolen in the civil
war, but Juxon repurchased the former.”[723] The “Erasmus,” which did
not return to its original resting-place, was, no doubt, the one by
Holbein sent over by the sitter as a present to Warham. The same writer
says that the “Warham” was at one time in De Loo’s collection, and was
afterwards in the possession of Sir Walter Cope, who had several works
by Holbein, which passed by marriage to the Earl of Holland. The history
of the Louvre portrait is not known, but it belonged at one time to the
Newton family, and later on to Louis XIV. It is possible that it was
painted for Erasmus, and that it is the version which belonged to the
Earl of Arundel, which is entered in the 1655 inventory as “Warramus
Vescovo de Canterbury.” The Louvre picture, which is the larger of the
two, is considered by some critics to be the original painting, the
Lambeth version being a replica from Holbein’s brush; others hold that
the latter is the original and the better work of the two, but the point
is not easy of solution unless the two pictures could be exhibited side
by side. There are two other versions of the portrait at Lambeth Palace,
but both are inferior copies. A panel of far higher qualities was lent
by Viscount Dillon to the Tudor Exhibition, 1890 (No. 107),[724] and to
the Oxford Exhibition, 1904 (No. 21).[725] This picture, which is an
almost exact replica of the Louvre and Lambeth examples, has
considerable claims to be considered an original work which has
suffered, more particularly in the face and hands, from repainting. It
has a beautifully rich golden tone, and certain of the details, more
particularly the little gilded figure of Christ on the crucifix, are
drawn with too great a mastery to be from the hand of any copyist. The
writing on the cartellino in the background is also fine and full of
character, very unlike the work of an imitator. Some lack of strength in
the handling and characterisation of face and hands may, however, point
to a good, contemporary worker. Evelyn, in his _Diary_, 1664, mentions
this portrait at Ditchley as a head of a Pope.

Another high ecclesiastic, and friend of Erasmus and More, John Fisher,
Bishop of Rochester, was painted by Holbein during his first visit to
England, probably at about the same time as Warham. Unfortunately the
picture itself is missing, but three preliminary drawings for it are in
existence, one at Windsor (Pl. 81 (1)), a second in the British Museum,
and the third until recently in the possession of Mr. J. P. Heseltine.
The first,[726] in black and coloured chalks, is, perhaps, the finest,
the somewhat hard, ascetic character of the face being rendered with
extraordinary expression with a few bold and forceful touches. The lines
of the body and dress are merely indicated in outline. He is wearing the
close-fitting black doctor’s cap, and the face, almost in full, is
turned slightly to the spectator’s left. At the bottom of the study is
the inscription, “Il Epyscop^o de resester fo tagliato il Cap^o l’an^o
1535” (The Bishop of Rochester beheaded in 1535), which seems to
indicate that the drawing was once in the possession of some Italian.
The drawing in the British Museum[727] is more carefully finished, and
was probably made from the Windsor sketch. It was once in the Richardson
Collection, and was bequeathed to the Museum by the Rev. C. M.
Cracherode. It has no inscription. The powerful drawing which formed
part of the Heseltine collection, dispersed in 1912, is on a reddish
ground.

In this drawing Holbein has accomplished, with the simplest means, one
of his finest and most subtle studies of character. The pale face, and
thin, determined lips, with a faint, scornful smile upon them, and the
brightness of the eyes, still undimmed in spite of his age, fully
express the character of one who was ever ready to do battle for his
opinions, and to die rather than betray his convictions. Mingled with
this obstinacy the painter has expressed that kindliness towards all who
came in contact with him, which Erasmus extolled so highly, and that
personal purity of life which, together with his profound learning,
formed one of his most striking characteristics. Froude says of him:
“Fisher was the only one of the prelates for whom it is possible to feel
esteem. He was weak, superstitious, pedantic, and even cruel towards the
Protestants. But he was a sincere man, living in honest fear of evil, so
far as he understood what evil was, and he could rise above the menaces
of temporal suffering under which his brethren of the episcopal bench
sank so rapidly into humility and subjection.”[728]

As stated above, the portrait which Holbein must evidently have painted
from this preliminary study has disappeared. The picture in St. John’s
College, Cambridge, which was lent to the Tudor Exhibition in 1890 (No.
138), was ascribed to Holbein in the catalogue, but is not by him,
though it may be a copy of the lost original. He is shown with a staff
in one hand and a glove in the other, and it is inscribed “A^o Ætatis
74,” which, as Fisher was born in 1456, would date the panel 1528.
Dallaway, in his annotations to Walpole, notes another version at
Didlington, Norfolk.[729] There was a second portrait of Fisher in the
Tudor Exhibition (No. 61), lent by the Hon. H. Tyrwhitt Wilson, a
half-length, holding a prayer book in both hands.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF THE GODSALVES]

Only two paintings by Holbein are known with the date 1528—the double
portrait in the Dresden Gallery and the “Kratzer” in the Louvre. The
former,[730] a small square panel (Pl. 84), represents Thomas Godsalve,
of Norwich, and his son John, afterwards knighted. The figures,
considerably less than life-size, are shown to the waist, seated at a
table, turned slightly to the spectator’s right. The father, a
ruddy-faced old man, dressed in the usual black cap and dark overcoat or
robe with a heavy fur collar, holds a quill pen, with both hands resting
on a sheet of paper in front of him, on which he has just written:
“Thomas Godsalve de Norwico Etatis sue anno quadragesimo septo.” The
son, dressed in a similar costume, is seated on the spectator’s left, a
little behind his father. He wears no cap upon his dark hair, which,
like the older man’s, is long, hiding the ears, and cut straight across
the forehead. In his left hand, partly concealed in the folds of his
cloak, he holds a paper. Both men are clean shaven, and wear white
shirts, that of the son being decorated round the neck with black
Spanish work. An inkpot is on the table, and in the left upper corner,
above Sir John’s head, a cartellino is affixed to the plain background
bearing the date—“Anno Dm. M. D. xxviij.” The picture is a fine example
of Holbein’s work at this period, and is in an excellent state of
preservation.[731] There is no drawing of Thomas Godsalve among the
Windsor studies, but of the son there is an exceptionally fine one (Pl.
85).[732] It is carried out in body-colours, and is much further
advanced than the other drawings in the collection, and, though somewhat
rubbed, is a most masterly example of Holbein’s veracity of portraiture.
It cannot be regarded, however, with certainty, as a preliminary study
for the Dresden picture for two reasons. In the first place, the sitter
appears to be several years older than in that picture, and although the
figure is seated and the position of the body is much the same, the
poise of the head is different, and the face is turned more directly
towards the spectator, while the hands, holding a sheet of paper, rest
on a table or rail in front of him; and in the second place, it is
practically a finished drawing, and is perhaps an example of Holbein’s
occasional practice of preparing his portraits on paper or parchment,
which he afterwards fastened to the panel before giving them the final
touches. He wears a coat of violet open in front and showing the white
shirt, and over it a black gown trimmed with yellow sable, and a black
cap with a circular badge, of which the design is not indicated. The
hair and eyebrows are finished with a hair pencil. The background is a
plain one of azure blue. He has a thin face, a large and sharp nose, and
blue eyes, with a scanty growth of beard on his shaven chin. He gazes at
the spectator with a serious, thoughtful expression; in which Woltmann
saw something puritanical, no doubt because Godsalve, as he notes,
presented the King with a New Testament as a New Year’s gift in
1539.[733] In the following year he gave a perfumed box. Blomefield[734]
mentions this drawing as being in his time in the Closet at Kensington
Palace. There is a miniature of Godsalve in the Bodleian Library.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 84.


[Illustration:

  THOMAS AND JOHN GODSALVE
  1528
  ROYAL PICTURE GALLERY, DRESDEN
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 85.


[Illustration:

  SIR JOHN GODSALVE
  Drawing in black and coloured chalks and water-colour.
  Reproduced by gracious permission of H.M. the King.
  _Windsor Castle_
]

The father, Thomas Godsalve, who died in 1542, was registrar of the
consistory court at Norwich, and the owner of landed property in
Norfolk. He was an intimate friend of Thomas Cromwell. In a letter to
the latter, dated Norwich, November 6, 1531, after thanking Cromwell for
kindnesses shown to his son, he says: “I send you half a dozen swans of
my wife’s feeding”;[735] and a year or two later he sends “six swans and
a maund with pears of my own grafting.”[736] The son, John Godsalve, who
died in 1556, became Clerk of the Signet to Henry VIII, and was present
at the siege of Boulogne. He was knighted at the coronation of Edward
VI, and a year or two later was made Comptroller of the Mint. Various
letters from him are included in the Calendars of State Papers. In one
of them (1533), addressed to Eustace, clerk of the works at Hampton
Court, he appears in the character of a “snapper-up of unconsidered
trifles.” “Send me,” he writes, “as many golden balls as you can
conveniently procure, and such fanes (vanes?) and other things at your
pleasure. Help the bearer into the spicery to have an antique which I
left there; of which he has the key. Send me also the head under the
stair, and whatsoever other things your gentle heart can lovingly depart
from.”[737] John Godsalve had some connection with the Steelyard, a
number of whose merchants were painted by Holbein, for in November 1532,
he and one William Blakenhall received a grant in survivorship of the
office of common meter of all cloths of gold and silver tissue,
“tynsett,” satin, damask, and other cloths and canvas of aliens and
others called “foreyns,” _alias_ “le Stilliarde,” in the city of London,
with the usual fees, &c.[738] He also obtained a small share of the
plunder from the monasteries, and, in July 1534, an annuity of £8 “to
him and his heirs for ever out of the issues of the manor of Stokesly,
in Rydham, Norfolk, in the King’s hands by the attainder of Thomas,
cardinal of York.”[739] In 1535 he received the offices of Constable and
Keeper of the Castle and Gaol of Norwich, succeeding Sir Henry Wyat and
Sir Thomas Boleyn in the posts.[740]

The portrait of Niklaus Kratzer,[741] of Munich, Henry’s German
astronomer, in the Louvre (Pl. 86), is a half-length figure placed
behind a table, which is covered with the instruments of his profession.
He wears the usual flat black cap, and a black coat or doublet open at
the neck, showing a glimpse of a red under-garment and white shirt, and
over all the prevailing dark overcoat or gown with fur collar. In his
right hand he holds a pair of compasses or dividers, and in his left a
decagonal sundial, like the one shown in the “Ambassadors” picture.
Behind him on the right various mathematical and astronomical
instruments are hanging on the wall, and others, including a cylindrical
sundial and an astrolabe, are placed on a shelf on the left. Among the
numerous objects on the table are scales and rulers, scissors, and his
seal, together with a sheet of paper with a Latin inscription giving his
name, his age, forty-one, and the date 1528. Part of this inscription is
confused and injured, and Holbein’s Latin was not of the best. The
Louvre catalogue gives the reading as: “Imago ad vivam effigiem expressa
Nicolai Kratzeri monacenssis q. (qui) bauarg. (bavarus) erat
quadragessimū ... annū tpr̃e (tempore) ilio gplebat (complebat) 1528.”
The illegible word after “quadragessimū” is given as “primo” in the
replica mentioned below. The light falls from the right on his face,
which, though rather heavy in features, is an interesting one, with an
indication of humour about the eyes and mouth, which is in accord with a
contemporary description of him in one of the letters of Nicolas
Bourbon, the poet, another of Holbein’s friends. The numerous
instruments and accessories are depicted with all the truth and loving
care in which Holbein delighted. Carel van Mander, who saw the picture
in London when in the possession of Andries de Loo, and speaks of it as
“een feer goedt Conterfeytsel en meesterlijck ghedan,” calls particular
attention to the beauty with which the instruments are delineated.
Kratzer was the hero of the story told by the same writer. When asked by
King Henry why he spoke English so badly, he replied, “Pardon, your
Majesty, but how can a man learn English in thirty years?”

Little is known about the history of the picture, which has suffered
somewhat severely from the passage of time. As noted, it was once in the
possession of De Loo, together with the Warham, the Thomas Cromwell, one
of the versions of Erasmus, and the More family group.[742] According to
Wornum,[743] it was formerly at Holland House;[744] and Walpole states,
erroneously, that there is a drawing for it among the Windsor
heads.[745] A replica or good contemporary copy was lent by Viscount
Galway to the Tudor Exhibition, 1890 (No. 129), in which the inscription
and date tally with the Louvre example. A miniature of Kratzer, in the
late Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan’s collection, is described in Chapter XXV.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 86.


[Illustration:

  NIKLAUS KRATZER
  1528
  LOUVRE, PARIS
]

Kratzer, born in Munich, was educated at Cologne and Wittemberg. He came
to England as a young man, and in 1517 was admitted a fellow of Fox’s
new College of Corpus Christi, Oxford. Later on Wolsey gave him the post
of lecturer on astronomy and mathematics at Oxford, and Henry VIII
appointed him his astronomer, with a salary of £20 per annum. While at
Oxford he designed two sun-dials, one in Corpus Christi garden, and the
other on a pillar in St. Mary’s Church, the latter remaining in position
until 1744. He died about 1550, and many of his works fell into the
hands of the notorious Dr. Lee. Albrecht Dürer, during his visit to the
Netherlands in 1520, made a drawing of Kratzer, as well as one of
Erasmus. He notes in his diary: “In Antwerp I took the portrait of
Master Nicolas, an astronomer, who resides with the King in England; he
was very useful to me; he is a German, a native of Munich.”

[Sidenote: NIKLAUS KRATZER AND HOLBEIN]

Kratzer and Holbein appear to have become close acquaintances, as was
only natural with two men of the same nationality in a foreign country.
One of the few contemporary letters in which the painter is mentioned by
name is one from Kratzer to Thomas Cromwell, referred to more
particularly in a later chapter,[746] in which the astronomer announces
that he has sent the Lord Privy Seal by Holbein’s hands a book just
received from Germany. Like the Steelyard merchants, Kratzer was in the
habit of serving the King as a forwarder and translator of letters and
papers from abroad, and was sent on occasional journeys to the Continent
on royal service. On one of these occasions, in October 1520, Tunstall,
who was in the Netherlands for political purposes, wrote to Henry VIII
saying that in Antwerp he had met “Nicholas Craczer, an Almayn, deviser
of the King’s horologes, who said the King had given him leave to be
absent for a time.” Tunstall asked him to stay till he had ascertained
if the King would allow him to remain until the coronation and the
assembly of the Electors were over. “Being born in High Almayn, and
having acquaintance of many of the princes, he might be able to find out
the mind of the Electors touching the affairs of the Empire.”[747] Like
Holbein and some of the other foreigners in England, Kratzer was not
averse from an occasional commercial speculation. Thus, in October 1527,
he received licence to import from Bordeaux and other parts of France
and Brittany 300 tons of Toulouse woad and Gascon wine.[748] His name,
spelt in a variety of fashions, frequently appears in the royal
accounts, but as a rule only in connection with the payment of his
quarter’s salary. On April 29, 1531, however, there is an entry: “To
Nicholas the Astronomer for mending of a clock, 6_s._”[749] Some of the
mathematical and astronomical instruments in the “Ambassadors” picture
may possibly have been of Kratzer’s making.

Several undated portraits may be ascribed to this period with some
certainty; and some others with perhaps less confidence. As a general
rule, though it is not without exceptions, Holbein’s portraits of his
first English period may be distinguished from those of his second by
the fashion in which the sitters wear their hair. In 1526-8 the
prevailing custom in England was to wear it cropped straight across the
forehead, while it was allowed to hang down lower than the ears all
round the rest of the head, the face being clean shaven. A very distinct
change of fashion took place in the spring of 1535, when Henry VIII
began to grow a beard, and ordered his own household to cut their hair.
Stow, in his _Annales_,[750] says: “The 8th of May the King commanded
all about his court to poll their heads, and to give them example, he
caused his own head to bee polled, and from thenceforth his beard to bee
notted and no more shaven.” This marked change in the dressing of the
hair was, of course, not followed by everyone, but it became so general
that it is of great assistance in helping to give approximate dates to a
number of pictures and drawings. Of the two, the cut of the hair is a
better indication of date than the beard or moustache, which were worn
more at pleasure. Occasionally long hair is found in conjunction with
the beard, and in other cases some men remained faithful to the earlier
fashion. Thus Sir Richard Southwell (1536) and the Duke of Norfolk
(1540) are examples of long hair and a shaven face after 1535. Some of
the German merchants resident in London conformed to the English
fashion, but certain of them will be found with beards before 1535,
while others again, painted several years later, are clean shaven. It
must not be forgotten, however, that Holbein had returned to England
nearly three years before the King’s edict of 1535, so that certain
portraits which have been usually ascribed to his first English period
on account of the cut of the sitter’s hair, may very possibly have been
painted five or six years later.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF SIR BRYAN TUKE]

The portrait of Sir Bryan Tuke, of which several versions exist, the
best known being the one in the Munich Gallery (Pl. 87),[751] is
ascribed by some writers to Holbein’s later English period, though the
shaven face and the way in which the hair is worn indicate the earlier
date of the first London visit. This test is not, of course, infallible,
but it seems probable, nevertheless, that Tuke was painted in 1527 or
1528. The date of his birth is not known, but he received his first
public appointment, as king’s bailiff at Sandwich, in 1508, and became
Clerk to the Signet in the following year. On more than one of the
replicas of the portrait his age is given as fifty-seven.

Tuke was a scholar, and one of the More circle, secretary to Cardinal
Wolsey, and French secretary to Henry VIII, and as Treasurer of the
Household was responsible for the payments to Holbein for his share in
the work of the Greenwich Banqueting House, and, later on, of his
salary. He was also Clerk of the Parliament and Master of the Posts. He
is represented in the Munich version at half-length, three-quarters to
the left, with clean-shaven face and long hair, wearing a black cap with
ear-pieces, a gown of black silk, lined with brown fur, and a fur
collar, over a black doublet also fur-lined and fastened with a gold
button, and sleeves of fine chequered black and gold stuff. A gold
jewelled cross, on which the pierced hands and feet of Christ are
represented in enamel, is suspended round his neck by a gold chain. With
the forefinger of his left hand, which holds his gloves, he indicates a
paper in front of him, inscribed “NVNQVID NON PAVCITAS DIERVM MEORVM
FINIETVR BREVI,” and, in smaller letters, “JOB cap. 10.” An hour-glass
rests on the table behind the paper, in front of his right hand. In the
background the figure of Death is seen against a green curtain, holding
his scythe in his left hand and with the first finger of the right
pointing to the hour-glass. It is signed “IO. HOLPAIN” in the old
Augsburg orthography. From overcleaning and other causes the hands and
face have lost much of the delicacy of their modelling, and the flesh
tints remain unpleasantly red, and the face has a hardness and sharpness
which, no doubt, it did not originally possess. Mr. Wornum, who,
however, only saw the picture when it was hung too high for proper
examination, considered it to be “painted in the taste and manner of Von
Melem.” “This picture,” he says, “is not a bad one, but the signature is
suspicious, as that of our painter; and the style does not proclaim it
to be the work of Holbein.”[752] Woltmann, on the other hand, says that
it “declares itself as strikingly as possible to be the work of Holbein,
and it is one of the two genuine paintings among the eight portraits
ascribed to him in the Pinakothek,” and adds that though so greatly
damaged, “yet still from its truth and lifelike feeling, as well as from
its masterly execution, it is an excellent portrait.” The picture,
however, is now regarded merely as a good workshop replica of the
original painting, and is so described in the latest edition of the
Munich catalogue. It appears to have been in the Wittelsbach Collection
in 1597, and in the description of it in the inventory of that date, the
figure of Death is not mentioned, and was probably added later.[753]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 87.


[Illustration:

  SIR BRYAN TUKE
  ALTE PINAKOTHEK, MUNICH
]

The best version of this picture is the one which at one time was in the
possession of the Methuen family at Corsham Court, Wilts, and afterwards
belonged to Mr. R. Sanderson, at whose sale at Christie’s in 1848 it was
purchased for the Marquis of Westminster.[754] It was bequeathed by the
Marchioness of Westminster to her daughter, Lady Theodora Guest, and now
belongs to the latter’s daughter, Miss Guest, of Inwood. It was in the
National Portrait Exhibition, 1868 (No. 625), in the Royal Academy
Winter Exhibition, 1880 (No. 188), and in the Burlington Fine Arts Club
Exhibition, 1909 (No. 43), lent by Miss Guest.[755] This version is
almost identical with the one in Munich, but the skeleton and hour-glass
are missing, and on the green-brown background is inscribed “BRIANVS
TVKE, MILES. AN^O ETATIS SVÆ LVII,” with his motto, “Droit et Avant,”
below. It is in all ways a finer work than the Munich example, and
undoubtedly by Holbein, and, in all probability, the original upon which
all the others were based. At least three other versions exist, all
without the skeleton. One of them, on canvas, was in the possession of
Mr. William M. Tuke, of Saffron Walden, in 1869, who purchased it in
Yorkshire in 1845, it having been formerly in the collection of a Mr.
Winstanley. Another is, or was, in the possession of Mr. John Leslie
Toke of Godington Park, Kent, which is said to have been in expression
and features more of the type of Sir Thomas More; while a third
belonged, in 1870, to Mr. J. R. Haig.[756] One or other of these
versions was owned in the seventeenth century by Lord Lisle, son of the
Earl of Leicester, as noted by Evelyn in his _Diary_ under the date 27th
August 1678.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF RESKIMER]

The portrait of the Cornishman, Reskimer,[757] at Hampton Court, has
been ascribed by most critics to Holbein’s first English period, and so
is included in this chapter, although the exceptionally long beard,
which reaches almost to his waist, and the hair, which, though not
polled, is short enough to show the ears, would indicate a date after
1535. It has suffered somewhat in the course of time, but in its
technique it resembles Holbein’s work at the beginning of his second
English period, and so was probably painted at about that time. There is
a fine drawing for it in the Windsor Collection,[758] which is
inscribed, “Reskemeer a Cornish Gent.,” in which the hair and beard are
carefully wrought. This study appears to be among the earlier drawings
in the collection.

“The portrait,” says Mr. Law, “represents a youngish man, not more than
twenty-eight, we should say, seen in a nearly complete profile, turned
to the left, the light coming in from the right. He is dressed in a
plain, dark-coloured coat or mantle; with the small white collar of his
shirt showing, the two strings of which hang down untied. His two hands,
which are drawn and painted with all Holbein’s strength and precision,
are both seen, the knuckles of the left being turned frontwards to the
spectator, and the palm of the right upwards, with the fingers just
touching the end of his beard. He wears a flat black cap slantwise over
the right side of his head. His hair is red, as is also his long peaked
beard. The background is a bluish green, with a sprig of vine.” Some
such branch of vine or fig frequently appears in the backgrounds of
Holbein’s earlier portraits. It is on wood, or, possibly, according to
Mr. Wornum,[759] on paper or parchment attached to oak, 1 ft. 6½ in.
high by 1 ft. 1½ in. wide. The brand of Charles I—“C.R.” crowned—is on
the back of the panel.

Nothing of its history is known, except that it was in Charles I’s
collection, and is described in his catalogue, page 8, as follows: “A
side-faced gentleman out of Cornwall, in his black cap, painted with a
long peaked beard, holding both his hands before him; some parts of a
landskip. Being less than life, upon a defaced cracked board, painted
upon the wrong light. Done by Holbein, given to the King by the deceased
Sir Rob. Killigrew, Vice-Chamberlain to the Queen’s Majesty.” Mr. Law
suggests, no doubt correctly, that it was said to be “a gentleman out of
Cornwall” in the catalogue on the authority of the inscription on the
Windsor drawing.

The name is spelt in many ways in the records—Reskemeer, Reskimear,
Rekymar, Reshemer, Reskemyr, Reskimer, and so on. The portrait is
usually considered to represent John Reskimer, of Marthyn or Murthyn,
though there is no authority for this except the fact that a John
Reskimer was living at about this time. Among the various references to
men of this family in the State Papers, Reskimers of more than one
Christian name appear. A Mr. Reskemar is mentioned in 1527 as belonging
to Wolsey’s household, and in 1532 the name of John Reskymer, son and
heir of John Reskymer, occurs in connection with a grant of land in
Cornwall.[760]

The John Reskemeer or Reskimer whose portrait this is said to be was the
son of William Reskemeer, fourteenth in descent from the first of that
name who settled in Cornwall, and Elizabeth, daughter of Sir John
Arundel of Telverne. By his wife Catherine, daughter of John Trethurff,
he had several children, his son William succeeding him;[761] though,
according to a pencil note in the copy in the British Museum of John
Chamberlaine’s “Imitations of Holbein’s Drawings,” he married Jane, one
of the daughters of Robert, natural son of Henry, Lord Holland, the last
Duke of Exeter. He was High Sheriff of Cornwall in 1557, and his seat,
Marthyn, was one of the eight parks in that county in 1602.

There is a fine portrait in the Prado, Madrid, representing an elderly
Englishman of extremely plain features and with an exceptionally large
nose,[762] which Woltmann, who first drew attention to it, regarded as a
genuine work of Holbein’s first English period. His clean-shaven face
with its many heavy wrinkles is of a very ruddy brown colour. His small
black cap has long ear-pieces, and he wears the customary dark cloak or
overcoat, with a collar of black embroidered or watered silk, open at
the top, and looped together with a cord, showing the white shirt below,
cut straight without a collar of any kind. It is a half-length, almost
full face, the head and eyes turned slightly to the left. He holds a
rolled-up paper in his left hand. It bears the stamp of truth in every
line of the rugged countenance. Modern criticism, however, refuses to
accept it as a work from Holbein’s brush. Dr. Bode and other German
writers consider it to be by the Master of the “Death of Mary.”

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF SIR HENRY WYAT]

A small portrait of undoubted genuineness, although badly over-painted,
and belonging to the first English period, is the likeness of Sir Henry
Wyat in the Louvre (Pl. 88),[763] which for many years was known as a
portrait of Sir Thomas More. According to Mr. Lionel Cust,[764] this
panel is in all probability the same as the portrait of “Cavaglier
Wyat,” painted in 1527, by Holbein, which was in the possession of
Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel, and among those pictures which, after
his widow’s death at Amsterdam in 1654, were disposed of by her son,
Viscount Stafford, to M. Jabach of Cologne, from whom they were
purchased by Colbert for the collection of Louis XIV, and so came into
the Louvre. Several copies of it exist. There is an excellent replica in
the National Gallery of Ireland[765] (No. 370), which was acquired at
the sale of the Magniac Collection in 1892; while a copy of it belongs
to Constance, Countess of Romney, with which goes a picture of Wyat’s
famous cat, which picture, according to Sir Martin Conway,[766] may
likewise represent an original by Holbein. A somewhat later, probably
seventeenth-century, picture belonging to Lady Romney, is made up out of
a combination of the two—master and cat—with a background of prison wall
and window.

In the Louvre picture Sir Henry is represented at half-length, slightly
turned to the right, wearing a black skull-cap over his long hair, and
the customary overcoat with deep fur collar, and green under-sleeves;
from his shoulders hangs a large heavy gold chain, to which a gold cross
is attached, which he grasps with his right hand, and holds a folded
paper in his left. He is clean-shaven, and has a large rounded nose. The
wrinkled face, the small tremulous mouth, and the tired eyes with the
sadness of their expression, produce a very lifelike effect of old age.
The chain is put on with real gold, in a way which Holbein practised
from time to time in England. Although it has suffered severely, it
seems to be an undoubted example of the first English period. It is
about 15½ in. high by 12 in. wide. Woltmann saw a copy of it in London
in the Robinson Collection, probably the one now in Dublin, and he
speaks both of it and of the one belonging to Lady Romney as of high
artistic merit.[767] Sir Henry Wyat, of Allington Castle, Kent, who had
served Henry VII, was appointed as a member of the Privy Council by
Henry VIII on his accession to the throne. He died in 1537. Holbein
probably became acquainted with him when at work on the Greenwich
Banqueting House.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 88.


[Illustration:

  SIR HENRY WYAT
  LOUVRE, PARIS
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 89.


[Illustration:

  SIR THOMAS ELYOT
  _Drawing in black and coloured chalks_
  WINDSOR CASTLE
]

[Sidenote: HIS EARLIER ENGLISH PORTRAITS]

In addition to these undated portraits, there are several studies for
paintings now lost which it is the custom, both from the style of
drawing and the fashion of hair and dress, to attribute to this earlier
period. The truly magnificent head of an unknown man at Chatsworth, and
the almost equally fine drawing of Sir Thomas Elyot (Pl. 89),[768]
author of the “Boke called the Governour,” and friend of More, and that
of his wife, Lady Elyot,[769] among the Windsor heads, have thus been
ascribed to 1527-8; but in these three cases the draughtsmanship is so
extraordinarily true and delicate, and at the same time so strong and so
full of character in every touch, that one is inclined to place them
some six or seven years later as work of the first years of Holbein’s
second English period. The Chatsworth drawing[770] is outlined in black
with the point of the brush on flesh-coloured paper, with a spot of red
here and there. “It would be useless to dilate upon the qualities of
this masterpiece,” says Mr. S. Arthur Strong, “in which Holbein seems to
touch the highest point attainable by human faculty within the chosen
limits. By the side of such work as this, Leonardo da Vinci himself
would appear conventional, almost effeminate.”[771] This praise is by no
means excessive, as the drawing is wonderful in its truth, its
combination of delicacy and strength, and its beauty. There is a second
head of an unknown man by Holbein at Chatsworth,[772] of a later date,
and in no ways as fine as the earlier one. It is in black chalk with a
wash of red, and it has been dashed in with rapid, vigorous strokes,
though with little of the subtlety of the first.

With the exception of several doubtful examples, such as the Dr. John
Stokesley, Bishop of London,[773] in Windsor Castle, which, though a
work of high quality, has characteristic features in the painting which
preclude its attribution to Holbein, the above-mentioned pictures
constitute the tale of the painter’s achievement in England during his
first visit, which lasted only some twenty months or so. During that
time, however, he not only spent a couple of months or more over the
decoration of the Greenwich Banqueting House, and made numerous studies
for the big More Family Group, and carried that picture itself some way
towards completion, but also painted portraits of Sir Thomas and Lady
More, Archbishop Warham, Sir Henry and Lady Guldeford, Thomas and John
Godsalve, Niklaus Kratzer, Sir Henry Wyat, and Sir Bryan Tuke, so that
his output was a considerable one.

In addition to these, there is the portrait of Reskimer, and possibly
others of Margaret Roper, Sir Thomas and Lady Elyot, and Sir Nicholas
Carew,[774] while it is almost certain that he also painted one of
Bishop Fisher, although the drawing for it is now the only record which
remains. This list, which includes fourteen or more portraits, shows
that Holbein, in spite of lack of official recognition from the King,
received sufficient patronage from the More circle and the Court to keep
him very busily and remuneratively occupied.


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                               CHAPTER XV

                    THE RETURN TO BASEL (1528-1532)

Return to Basel and purchase of a house—Iconoclastic outbreaks in that
  city—Destruction of sacred paintings and sculptures—Lack of work, and
  death or absence of old patrons—Portrait of his wife and children—His
  relationships with his wife—Completion of the wall-paintings in the
  Council Chamber of the Town Hall—“Rehoboam rebuking the
  Elders”—“Meeting of Samuel and Saul”—Portrait of Erasmus painted in
  Freiburg—Book illustrations—Repainting the faces of the clock on the
  Rhine Gate—Holbein’s return to England.


UNTIL the discovery in 1870, by Dr. Édouard His-Heusler,[775] that
Holbein purchased a house in Basel in August 1528, it was generally
supposed that the painter remained in England until the spring or summer
of 1529. In September of the latter year Erasmus wrote letters to Sir
Thomas More and Margaret Roper thanking them very heartily for the
drawing of the family picture which Holbein had brought to him. This was
the study now in the Basel Gallery. Erasmus was then living in Freiburg,
and it was supposed that the painter halted there on his way home on
purpose to deliver this sketch and letters which he was bearing from
Chelsea. This supposition has now to be abandoned.

[Sidenote: HOLBEIN’S PURCHASE OF TWO HOUSES]

There is no doubt that Holbein had received a two years’ leave of
absence from the Basel Town Council, and that his only reason for
leaving England, where he was busily and lucratively occupied, was the
fact that he was bound by the laws of his adopted city to return within
the stipulated period, or otherwise to run the risk of forfeiting his
rights of citizenship, and incurring other punishment, in addition to
possible trouble with his own particular guild. By an order of the
Council dated 1521, no one subject to the jurisdiction of Basel was
allowed to take service with, or receive pension money from, any foreign
prince or community; and this law may have been one of the reasons why
Holbein did not enter into Henry VIII’s service at this time, as it
would be necessary before doing so to obtain the Council’s special
permission, as he did later on in his career.

Holbein’s purchase of a house in Basel was made on August 29, 1528,
exactly two years after the date of Erasmus’ letter to Ægidius, given to
the painter on the eve of his departure for England. The record of the
sale is to be found in the “Fertigungsbuch,” and from the entry it
appears that both Holbein and his wife were present in person at the
completion of the transaction. It was bought from the clothweaver
Eucharius Rieher, and the price was 300 gulden or florins, which shows
that Holbein had brought home money in his purse, though only one-third
of the purchase price was paid, and the remainder secured by a mortgage.
It was a two-storeyed house, overlooking the Rhine, in the St. Johann
Vorstadt, next door to Froben’s bookstore, and its site is now occupied
by No. 22. Within living memory it was still standing, outwardly very
little changed since the days in which Holbein and his family lived in
it; as also the smaller cottage next door, which the painter purchased
some years later, on the 28th March 1531, for 70 gulden, from the
fisherman Uly von Rynach, on part of the site of which a factory has
since been erected.

[Sidenote: ERASMUS AND MORE FAMILY GROUP]

Here Holbein settled down to work again, but, if one may judge from the
few examples of his brush which can be ascribed to this period, he must
have found Basel a far less profitable field for his labours than
England. During his absence Switzerland had fallen on evil days. At
about the date of his return the religious differences had reached their
climax, and in Basel violent outbreaks of hostilities were taking place.
At Easter, 1528, the Council had been obliged to give way to the extent
of allowing divine worship according to the Reformed ritual in some of
the churches, and permitting the removal of all sacred pictures from
their walls. The Council, indeed, did their best to prevent sedition.
Their recommendation that “no man should call another papist or
lutheran, heretic, adherent of the new faith or the old, but each should
be left unharassed and unscorned in his own belief,” fell on unheeding
ears.[776] Such prudent advice was ill-suited to the passions which had
been aroused. In the following year all the Catholic members of the
Council were forcibly removed by a mob of armed citizens, and this
action was followed by a number of excesses. On Shrove Tuesday, 1529, a
furious outburst of iconoclasm occurred. The Cathedral was attacked by a
crowd of some hundreds of reformers, who broke open the doors, and
pulled down and dashed to pieces all the pictures and altars. The
Council issued orders and edicts which were powerless to stay the
fanaticism of the rioters, who visited in turn the other churches and
monasteries in the city, destroying everything that was not hastily
hidden from them. On the following day, Ash Wednesday, the destruction
continued. Four hundred men, headed by the public executioner, paid a
second visit to the Cathedral, broke up everything that still remained,
and of the fragments made five large bonfires. Pictures and wooden
images were burnt, wall-paintings were whitewashed over; and however
beautiful such works of art might be, their merits were insufficient to
save them. The reformers’ hearts were hot against what they considered
the gross idolatry of their opponents, and nothing was spared from the
fire upon which they could lay their furious hands. Here and there a
picture or relic was saved, among them at least one work of Holbein’s,
the early “Last Supper,” already described, though it appears to have
been badly damaged at the time, and restored later on.[777] No doubt
more than one of his pictures perished, together with others by such
Basel painters as Urs Graf, Niklaus Manuel Deutsch, and Hans Herbster.
His beautiful shutters for the Cathedral organ happily escaped; it may
be that they were hung too high to be easily reached, and were thus
protected from the first outbreak, and afterwards, when the edict was
issued forbidding all sacred pictures in the churches, they would be
allowed to remain on the walls under the order which permitted the use
of all paintings of a character to which no adoration could be
shown.[778] Erasmus, in a letter to Pirkheimer, gives a graphic
description of what took place on these two days of fanatical
destruction. “There was no one,” he says, “who did not fear for himself,
when these dregs of the people covered the whole market-place with arms
and cannons. Such a mockery was made of the images of the saints, and
even of the Crucifixion, that one would have thought that some miracle
must have happened. Nothing was left of the sculptures, either in the
churches or in the cloisters, in the portals or in the monasteries.
Whatever painted pictures remained were daubed over with whitewash,
whatever was inflammable was thrown upon the pile, whatever was not was
broken to pieces. Neither pecuniary nor artistic value could save
anything.”

This tumultuous state of affairs proved too much for Erasmus, who had a
detestation of all forms of violence, and only wished for peaceful
surroundings in which to pursue his work. More than one of his noble
patrons, from whom he received pensions, objected to his continued
residence in a city in which the Protestant party were dominant. He had,
too, some fear for his own life; for though he was an adherent of
neither side, his opinions were not popular with the reformers. So he
now turned his back upon the city which he had made his permanent home
since 1521, and in which, old and sickly as he was, he had hoped to end
his days, and removed to the neighbouring city of Freiburg, where the
Catholic party were in the ascendancy. Thither Bonifacius Amerbach
accompanied him, and remained with him for some time.

As Holbein found Erasmus still in Basel when he returned there in August
1528, he must have presented Sir Thomas More’s gift to him on his
arrival. There could be no reason for delay unless he had in some way
mislaid the sketch. Nor is it likely that Erasmus would have waited for
thirteen months before writing to More to thank him; if he had done so,
he would at least have made some apology for his remissness. Yet in his
published works his letter of thanks is dated Freiburg, 5th September
1529, so that the matter is not easy of explanation, unless this again
is another mistake in dating on the part of the editor of the letters.
If the correct date of the letters to More and his daughter is 1528, not
1529, then Erasmus wasted little time before writing to More to thank
him for the drawing. It seems certain that the scholar, highly delighted
with the picture of his friends, and the letters from them which
accompanied it, would not let many days go past without acknowledging
them.

In his letter to Sir Thomas he says: “Oh that it were once more granted
me in life to see such dear friends face to face whom I contemplate with
the utmost joy imaginable in the picture, which Holbein (Olpeius) has
brought me!”[779] On the next day, September 6th, he wrote to Margaret
Roper: “I can scarcely express in words, Margaret Roper, thou ornament
of thine England, what hearty delight I experienced when the painter
Holbein (Olpeinus) presented to my view your whole family in such a
successful delineation, that I could scarcely have seen you better had I
been myself near you. Constantly do I desire that once more, before my
goal is reached, it may be granted me to see this dear family circle, to
whom I owe the best part of my outward prosperity, and of my fame,
whatever they may be, and would owe them rather than to any other
mortal. A fair portion of this wish has now been fulfilled by the gifted
hand of the painter. I recognise all, yet none more than thee, and from
the beautiful vestment of thy form I feel as if I could see thy still
more beautiful mind beaming forth.... Greet thy mother, the honoured
Mistress Alice, many times from me; as I could not embrace her myself, I
have kissed her picture from my heart.”[780] In the first letter Erasmus
writes Holbein’s name as Olpeius, confusing him for the moment with an
old “famulus” of his own, Severinus Olpeius. In the second letter, in
which he calls him Olpeinus, he gets nearer to the correct name. In her
answer to this last letter, dated November 4th, Margaret says: “Quod
pictoris tibi adventus tantæ voluptati fuit, illo nomine, quod utriusque
mei parentis nostrumque omnium effigiem depictam detulerit, ingentibus
cum gratiis libenter agnoscimus.”[781]

Holbein must soon have discovered that his prospects of remunerative
employment were far from promising, when compared with the field he had
so recently abandoned. Fortunately he had some little money in his
pockets when he returned, and perhaps for some months, before the
religious dissensions came to so acute a head, he may have found
profitable work. But the outburst in the spring of 1529 put an abrupt
end to all painting of sacred pictures or work of any kind for the
churches. The 18th clause (“upon pictures”) in an order passed by the
Reformation party in that year stated: “We have no pictures in our
churches, either in the city or country, because they formerly gave much
incitement to idolatry, therefore God has so decidedly forbidden them,
and has cursed all who make images. Hence, in future, by God’s help, we
will set up no pictures, but will seriously reflect how we can provide
comfort for the poor needy ones who are the true and living images of
God.”[782] For a painter who had to make a living for a wife and family
such conditions were serious enough, for they cut off one of his chief
sources of employment. Judging from the numerous studies in the Basel
Gallery, Holbein, before his first visit to England, must have been
frequently engaged on pictures, wall-paintings, and designs for windows
for churches, all of which, with few exceptions, such as the Meyer
Madonna and one or two others, perished before the fury of the mob. It
was natural that he should look forward to a continuance of work of this
nature, and however strongly, in his heart, he may have believed in the
Reformation itself, he must have been in little accord with it in its
treatment of art. Nor was it a time when the leading citizens of Basel
had leisure or desire for so peaceful an occupation as sitting for their
portraits. The times were far too strenuous. Several of his earlier
friends, and patrons, too, were no longer there to help him. Froben had
died two years before he got back, and Erasmus was about to wipe the
dust of Basel from his feet, while Amerbach was a temporary absentee.
His old friend, Jakob Meyer “zum Hasen,” was still a prominent figure
among the Catholic minority, and, therefore, had little influence to
place at his service. Under such adverse conditions it is, perhaps, not
wonderful that only one panel painting of the second Basel period can be
pointed to with any certainty—the portrait-group of his wife and two
elder children. This, and the remaining wall-paintings in the Council
Chamber of the Town Hall, are the only works of importance of which we
have any record.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN]

The portrait of his wife and his two elder children, Philip and
Katherine, in the Basel Gallery (No. 325) (Pl. 90),[783] was, no doubt,
one of the first things he undertook after his arrival. In any case, it
was painted in 1528 or 1529. It is in oils on four pieces of paper
fastened together, and at some subsequent time has been cut out round
the figures and mounted on a panel, thus spoiling the delicacy of the
outlines. The figures are life-size, and the wife, who is seated, facing
the spectator, is shown at almost three-quarters length. She wears a
dark green bodice without ornament, cut very low and straight across the
breast, and a dark-brown over-garment trimmed with a thin band of fur.
Her light brown hair is covered by a transparent veil which comes low
over her forehead, and a small brown cap on the back of her head. On her
left knee she supports a red-haired baby, about eighteen months old,
born during Holbein’s absence, dressed in a cap and an undyed woollen
garment, while her right hand rests on the shoulder of a boy of about
six or seven, with long fair hair, wearing a dark blue-green dress above
which the white collar of his shirt is visible. The lad, who is shown in
profile, is looking upwards to the right, and presses against his
mother’s knee. His head and shoulders only are shown.

The picture is dated, but in the cutting out process it underwent prior
to its fastening upon the wood panel, which was done before 1586, as is
to be gathered from the Amerbach inventory, the last figure has been
shorn away, and only “152” remains. It is almost certain that this date
was 1528 or 1529, probably the former, for Holbein, once more united
with his wife and family, would be likely to give expression to his
pleasure by painting their portraits. In the greater energy of its
conception and the vigour of its treatment it more closely resembles the
portraits painted in England than his earlier Basel work.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 90.


[Illustration:

  HOLBEIN’S WIFE AND CHILDREN
  1528-9
  BASEL GALLERY
]

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN]

There are other versions of this picture in existence, among them a good
late sixteenth-century copy in the Lille Museum,[784] which has a blue
background. Like the Basel example, it is on paper pasted upon wood, but
it has not been cut out round the outlines, while on a piece of paper
added to the top of the panel there is an inscription in gold, which
runs—

                 “Die Liebe zu Gott heist Charitas,
                  Wer Liebe hatt der tragtt kein hass,”

thus turning it into a representation of Charity. A second[785] example,
though a work of no particular skill, is of interest because it gives
what was probably the background of the original work before it was cut
down, one of those architectural compositions with pilasters and an
ornamental frieze which Holbein so frequently used as a setting for his
earlier portraits, part of which forms a high-backed seat in which the
wife is placed. This copy, which belongs to Herr E. Trümpy, of Glarus,
shows some small differences, in the boy’s hair, the folds of the
draperies, &c., but it has suffered so much that it is difficult to pass
judgment upon it. It must have been painted before the original work was
cut down towards the end of the sixteenth century. That the picture
represents the painter’s wife and children is certain, for it was in the
possession of Amerbach, whose son entered it in his inventory as
“Holbeins fraw vnd zwei kinder von im H. Holbein conterfehet vf papir
mit olfarben, vf holtz gezogen.”

This picture is painted with greater breadth and freedom than was his
custom. The delicacy of handling which marked almost all that he did has
given place to a more rapid but none the less truthful execution. The
baby is by no means a beautiful child, and the mother’s plainness of
countenance is almost repulsive at the first glance. Her expression is
one of deep dejection, her face careworn and unhappy, and her eyes are
rimmed with red, suggesting ill-health or sorrow. The grouping is
unconventional, and it may be that the artist began to paint them just
as he happened to see them, without any elaborate posing or attempt to
make a picture of them. The wonderful truth with which he has realised
them, however, the fine rich colour, and the luminous painting of the
flesh tones, combine to make it one of his greatest works, in the study
and appreciation of which the want of physical beauty in the principal
sitter and the severe plainness of the costumes are overlooked and
forgotten. Though only six years later than the Solothurn Madonna and
the portrait at the Hague, Elsbeth Holbein has already lost all
appearance of youth, and the cares of life have left heavy traces behind
them. Her features are now not merely homely, but heavy and
uninteresting, while her figure is solid, ample, and ungraceful. Yet it
is still possible to recognise the likeness, no doubt somewhat idealised
in the earlier work, but here set down with remorseless truth. The cause
of this loss of youth and good looks, due, according to some modern
critics, to Holbein’s neglect and his infatuation for Magdalena
Offenburg, has been touched upon in an earlier chapter. M. de Wyzewa,
who is one of those who hold this theory, regards this Basel family
group as one of the few pictures in which Holbein completely reveals his
artistic soul. “I doubt,” he says,[786] “if there exists in the world
another painting comparable to this for subtle and dolorous beauty of
expression.” In its revelation of truth it is an act of accusation
against the painter himself, such as is not to be found in any written
account of him by his contemporaries, who, it is suggested, influenced
by his importance as an artist and by his connection with big and
influential people, did not think it wise to speak the truth about him.
It was Magdalena who was the chief cause of this domestic misery, we are
told. She was “l’odieuse rivale qui l’a dépouillée de sa beauté et de
son bonheur, et de toute sa fortune par-dessus le marché, qui a réduit
l’exquise jeune femme du portrait de la Haye à devenir le fantôme
navrant du portrait de Bâle; voilà peut-être le grief qui aura pesé le
plus cruellement sur le cœur ulcéré d’Elisabeth Holbein! Et qui sait si
ce remords-là ne s’est point dressé au premier plan dans l’âme du
peintre lui-même, lorsqu’en 1529 celui-ci a éprouvé le besoin de nous
crier sa confession de mari et de père, en même temps qu’il allait nous
révéler la puissante, l’émouvante grandeur de son génie d’artiste?”

The boy in the picture, who appears to be six or seven years old, may
well have been the model for the Infant Christ in the Solothurn Madonna.
The group has been painted with a speed and spontaneity which is not
usual in Holbein’s portraits, with their minute finish and careful
elaboration of details. This unwonted vigour of handling, however, gives
to it a freedom and a largeness which make it unique among the varied
manifestations of his genius. It has many of the qualities of a
brilliant sketch, in which both likeness and character have been set
down with direct and masterly power.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 91.


[Illustration:

  PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG WOMAN
  _Unfinished study in oils_
  BASEL GALLERY
]

A very remarkable portrait study of a young woman in the Basel Gallery
(No. 326) (Pl. 91),[787] which comes from the Faesch Cabinet, bears a
close resemblance to the Family Group, and is ascribed by Dr. Ganz to
the same year, 1528, to which it undoubtedly belongs. The subject,
evidently a woman of Holbein’s own class, is extremely plain, with heavy
features, and dark eyes and hair. She is represented to the waist,
turned slightly to the spectator’s left, her long hands, with numerous
rings, crossed in front of her. It is drawn with the pencil, and
coloured with oil colours thinly laid on and mixed with white upon a
red-toned ground. The background is a plain, deep blue. It is
unfinished, the turban-like cap, and the outer bodice of the dress
having the colour only slightly indicated. It is of the utmost interest,
as it affords evidence of Holbein’s methods of working at this period,
methods which he employed in painting his wife and children, also done
in oils on paper; and it is, in addition, a wonderfully powerful study
in portraiture, lifelike, vigorous, and subtle.

[Sidenote: RESUMES WORK IN COUNCIL CHAMBER]

Little is known of Holbein’s work in Basel during this period. No other
portrait from his brush has been so far discovered; but, happily for
him, in the summer of 1530 the Town Council found some employment for
him worthy of his great talents, work which occupied him for the
remainder of the year. They resolved to finish the internal decoration
of their Council Chamber, which Holbein had left incomplete some years
earlier, and he was naturally selected as the painter most fitted to do
it. For this work he received in all 72 florins, in four separate
payments between July 6 and November 18, 1530, a sufficiently modest sum
for five months’ work, which included at least two large wall-paintings;
but, nevertheless, better pay than he had gained for his earlier
frescoes in the same room, for the original arrangement was that he
should decorate the whole chamber for the sum of 120 gulden, and for
that sum he had covered all but the “back wall” with large pictures.

The new subjects, which may have been selected in 1521, when the work
was first begun, were “Rehoboam rebuking the Elders of Israel,” and “The
Meeting of Samuel and Saul.” A third subject, “Hezekiah ordering the
Idols to be broken in pieces,” was probably only one of the single
figures which were placed between the larger compositions. Unlike the
earlier wall-paintings, of which the subjects were taken from classical
antiquity, the ones upon which Holbein was now occupied were drawn from
the Old Testament, and were selected for the purpose of setting forth
the evil effects of bad government and the punishment which follows the
obstinacy of rulers who oppose their will to the will of God. The
“Hezekiah”[788] was chosen, no doubt, as an apt illustration of the
wisdom of obeying the commands of God in the sweeping away of all false
idols and images, as exemplified in the iconoclastic outbreaks in Basel
itself in the previous year, the painting of which Holbein must have
undertaken with mixed feelings.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 92.


[Illustration]

[Illustration:

  “KING REHOBOAM REBUKING THE ELDERS”
  Three fragments of the wall-painting formerly in the Basel Town Hall
  1530
  BASEL GALLERY
]


                           VOL. I., PLATE 93.


[Illustration:

  REHOBOAM REBUKING THE ELDERS OF ISRAEL
  Study for the wall-painting in the Basel Town Hall, 1530
  BASEL GALLERY
]

Two fine preliminary designs for the “Rehoboam” and the “Samuel and
Saul” form part of the Amerbach Collection, drawings which may have been
made as early as 1521. Among the few fragments of the original
wall-paintings preserved in the Basel Gallery, there are two showing the
head and the raised hand with pointing little finger of Rehoboam (No.
328) (Pl. 92 (3)),[789] the head being drawn in profile, whereas in the
study it is full face, indicating a change in the design when carried
out on the wall. In the centre of the composition, as shown in the
drawing (Pl. 93),[790] King Rehoboam, seated upon a lofty throne beneath
a rich canopy backed by a curtain decorated with a fleur-de-lys device,
bends forward, his left hand stretched before him in vehement action,
with little finger extended towards the group of Israelitish elders
standing below him, some of whom turn away in despair. With his right
hand he points to a scourge held by an attendant on the left. The moment
depicted is when he cries out in a rage: “My little finger shall be
thicker than my father’s loins; my father hath chastised you with whips,
but I will chastise you with scorpions.” Behind the throne, within the
rails enclosing a large vaulted chamber in the Renaissance style, are a
number of figures, on the one side the older councillors who had served
his father, Solomon, whose advice he neglected, and on the other the
younger courtiers whose bad counsel he followed. On the right of the
composition is a glimpse of a hilly landscape, with the Crowning of
Jeroboam by the revolted tribes in the middle distance. The drawing is
washed in Indian ink, with touches of colour in the sky, in the circular
openings at the back of the hall, in the landscape, the faces of the
figures, and the rails and the floor. The story is told very simply and
clearly, but with considerable dramatic force, such as would make an
instant appeal to those for whom the lesson it contained was intended.
The figures are rather short and stumpy, a fault to be noticed in many
of Holbein’s earlier designs for books, wall-paintings, and painted
glass; but the composition is a dignified one, and the large painting
based upon it must have been a noble work. As stated above, the
fragments of the original painting which have been preserved show that
Holbein deviated from the sketch in essential points. The head of
Rehoboam, which is a masterpiece of strong expression, is seen in sharp
profile. There are also in the same Gallery two fragments containing
groups of heads of the Israelite Messengers (No. 329) (Pl. 92 (1 and
2)).[791] Traces of gold are still visible on these remains of the
original work, showing that Holbein made use of gilding in
wall-paintings as well as in portraits.

[Sidenote: “THE MEETING OF SAMUEL AND SAUL”]

The wall-painting of “Samuel and Saul” was the largest of all the
decorations in the Council Chamber, and that it was painted side by side
with the “Rehoboam” on the only wall in the room unbroken by door or
window is evident from the fact that in the sketches the same dividing
column appears in both. It was probably about 7 or 8 feet high by 16 or
17 feet long, and if the same proportion was preserved in both designs,
the “Rehoboam” must have been about 13 feet long. The moment chosen for
representation is the return of Saul from his conquest of the
Amalekites, and his meeting with the Prophet Samuel. Instead of obeying
the command of God, and destroying men, women, children, and flocks, he
has spared them, and carried them and much spoil away with him. Samuel
has come forth in anger, and Saul, perceiving him, has dismounted, and
advances to meet him bent in reverence. The prophet heaps reproaches
upon him. “Hath the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and
sacrifices as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Because thou hast
rejected the word of the Lord, He hath also rejected thee from being
king.” The right half of the composition is crowded with foot-soldiers
and horsemen, wearing Roman helmets, among whom the conquered King Agag
is borne captive. In the distance are seen the captured herds and
flocks, and the burning villages on the hillsides. The composition is a
finely-balanced one, and the noble, menacing figure of the Prophet is
well contrasted with the cringing figure of the King, conscious, now
that the flush of victory is passing, that he has failed to fulfil the
sacred commands. The army behind him is most effectively grouped, and
the soldiers’ lances, seen darkly against the sky, produce much the same
effect of grandeur and of numbers as in Velazquez’s great picture. In
the left upper corner is a long white tablet—no doubt in the finished
painting it was shown hanging from the painted framework surrounding the
picture—on which the Latin text, quoted by Tonjola, was inscribed.

The sketch (No. 347) (Pl. 94)[792] has been slightly washed with colour,
blue in the sky, the stream in the middle distance, the trees, and the
hills, and brown over the landscape, which combines with the blue to
produce green in the trees and hillsides, while the flames from the
burning villages are bright red. The figures are drawn in brown and
shaded with a wash of cool grey. It is not possible from this, however,
to gain much idea of the actual colouring of the wall-painting, but,
from the darting flames and the volumes of heavy smoke rolling across
the sky and blotting out a part of the landscape, it is possible that
the general effect attempted was one of strong contrasts of chiaroscuro,
such as are to be seen in the Basel Passion picture. Still, the sketch,
small as it is, affords ample evidence of the greatness of Holbein’s
power of design in large compositions crowded with figures, and
emphasizes the seriousness of the loss suffered through the destruction
of the whole of his wall-paintings and larger decorative works.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 94.


[Illustration:

  SAMUEL AND SAUL
  Study for the wall-painting in the Basel Town Hall
  _Pen drawing in brown touched with water-colour_
  BASEL GALLERY
]

Beyond the Town Hall frescoes, little remains to show in what manner he
was employed during the remainder of his stay in Basel. There is a fine
design for a dagger-sheath, richly decorated with Renaissance ornament,
in the Basel Gallery, dated 1529 (Pl. 45 (1), Vol. ii.);[793] but this
is the only work of the kind that can be given definitely to this
period, though possibly some of the other designs for dagger-sheaths and
bands of ornament in the Basel Gallery, described in a later
chapter,[794] were made during these years. He also produced a number of
designs for woodcuts, among them a series of illustrations for the
_Cosmography_ and several astronomical works by Sebastian Münster of
Munich, published by Heinrich Petri. Münster was in Basel in the autumn
of 1529, and it is possible, so Dr. Ganz suggests,[795] that his
fellow-townsman, Niklaus Kratzer, whose portrait Holbein had so recently
painted, drew his attention to the artist’s skill in the delineation of
scientific and mathematical instruments, such as Münster required for
the illustration of his books. In this way, no doubt, the author and the
artist came into personal contact. Holbein drew for him a number of fine
designs, such as figures representing the signs of the Zodiac, drawings
of sun-dials, and a variety of mathematical and astronomical
instruments, and a great astronomical table, first published in 1534,
but starting from the year 1530, with ornamental accessories and
representations of the four seasons, a work of great beauty.[796]

He also painted a new portrait of Erasmus, most probably in Freiburg,
for the portrait at Parma, which is one of the best of various almost
contemporary copies, is dated 1530. The small circular picture in the
Basel Gallery is very possibly the original study painted directly from
the sitter. These portraits and the roundel of Melanchthon in the
Provinzial Museum at Hanover, which is probably of the same period, have
been described in a previous chapter.[797]

[Sidenote: REPAINTING OF RHINE GATE CLOCK]

There is only one other record to show that he received any further
employment from the civic authorities after the completion of the Town
Hall paintings. On October 7, 1531, he was paid “17 pfund 10 schilling,”
or fourteen gulden, for repainting the two clocks on the Rhine Gate
(“von beden Uren am Rinthor zemalen”).[798] This commission was for
renovating the two faces of the old clock, which was decorated with the
grotesque figure of the “Lallenkönig,” with distorted countenance
stretching out his tongue towards Little Basel. This undertaking seems
very paltry after the big decorative works upon which he had been
occupied twelve months earlier, but was apparently all that the
authorities had to give. It is an exaggeration, however, to speak of it,
as some writers do, as contemptible work for an artist of his standing.
Mrs. Fortescue says of it: “As soon as Holbein got his pay for this
disgraceful commission—a pay he was now much too hard pressed to
refuse—he quietly slipped away from Basel without taking the Council
into his confidence.”[799] To Holbein, who by no means regarded himself
as a portrait-painter only, but to whom all decorative work, however
large or however small, was equally an occasion for giving of the best
that was in him, the ornamentation of a clock face would in no ways
appear to be work in any way disgraceful or beneath him; nor is there
the slightest evidence to show that he ran away from Basel like a thief
in the night. Throughout his life, indeed, his methods were orderly, and
such as became a citizen and guildsman of his adopted town. He must,
nevertheless, have suffered many anxieties, for times were unpropitious
in Basel, and offered few opportunities for the remunerative practice of
the fine arts.

Both in 1529 and 1530 great scarcity prevailed. The religious
excitement, too, grew in strength, and the Protestant persecutions
became as severe as the papal ones which had preceded them. Holbein
himself fell under suspicion. On June 18, 1530, just when he was
beginning to work on the Town Hall frescoes, he was called upon,
together with a number of other citizens, to justify himself for not
having taken part in the Communion instituted in the Basel churches
after the abolition of the Catholic ritual in 1529. He gave as an answer
that he demanded, before approaching the Lord’s Table, that the
signification of the holy mystery should be better explained to him. It
appears that the information given to him was sufficient to satisfy his
conscience, as he did not persist in his refusal. His friend, Bonifacius
Amerbach, was more obdurate, and so had the ban passed upon him.

In 1531 open war broke out between the different cantons, through stress
of religious differences. This was possibly the last straw in Holbein’s
case. Work growing daily more difficult to obtain, his thoughts would
naturally turn to the happier fields for his genius which England
afforded, and he determined to return there. The exact date of his
departure is unknown, but it must have been towards the end of 1531 or
in the early spring of 1532; perhaps the latter date is the more
probable of the two, as the journey, in the way in which he would be
forced to make it, would be an unpleasant, if not a difficult, one in
winter.[800]


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                       POSTSCRIPT TO CHAPTER XIV

         A NEWLY DISCOVERED PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN ENGLISH LADY

THE discovery of a new portrait by Holbein must always be a matter of
the highest interest to students of the master’s art, and when the panel
so discovered is one in practically faultless condition and of
exceptional attraction, its importance as an addition to the list of the
painter’s works cannot be easily exaggerated. It is pleasant, therefore,
to have to record the fact that such a portrait was brought to light for
the first time during the present year (1913). The portrait in question
formed part of a collection of pictures and engravings removed from
Rotherwas House, near Hereford, the seat of the Bodenham family, early
in the year, the greater number of which were sold by auction in London
last February. The Holbein picture, however, was first heard of at a
sale at Messrs. Puttick and Simpson’s rooms in Leicester Square on April
8th. It was in a very dirty state, and its beauty was almost entirely
obscured by a thick coat of dark varnish, with which it had been covered
some two centuries or more ago. It had also two slight abrasions above
and below the right eye. Across the left sleeve was painted in white, in
late eighteenth-century lettering, the inscription “Margaret Tudor,
Queen of Scotland.” This attribution, however, was changed by the
compilers of the sale catalogue to “Mary, Queen of Scots,” and it was
described as by an unknown artist of the early English School. The
bidding for this picture started at £10, and it was finally acquired for
340 guineas by Mr. Ayerst H. Buttery.

Upon careful cleaning the false inscription at once came away, and after
the removal of the varnish the picture was found to be, as already
stated, in a practically faultless condition—except for the two small
abrasions—and in the original state in which it was left by the artist,
thanks, no doubt, to the varnishing process it had undergone. It is
unsigned, and has no inscription giving the name and age of the sitter,
but in spite of this it is difficult to doubt its authorship. Holbein
was the only painter then in England who possessed so fine a technique.
It has been carefully examined by several leading authorities on the
painter, among them Dr. Friedländer, of the Kaiser Friedrich Museum,
Berlin, and all are agreed that it is a splendid example of Holbein. A
detailed description of it, with several suggestions toward the solution
of the identity of the sitter, was first published by Mr. Maurice W.
Brockwell, in the _Morning Post_ of June 28, 1913.


                           VOL. I., PLATE 95.


[Illustration:

  PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN ENGLISH LADY
  (Formerly in the possession of the Bodenham family, Rotherwas Hall,
    Hereford)
  _Reproduced by kind permission of Mr. Ayerst H. Buttery_
]

It is on panel, 31 inches high by 23½ inches wide (Pl. 95). The lady is
shown full face, and almost three-quarters length, holding with both
hands a very small open prayer-book or breviary, which is attached to a
ribbon round her waist by a plain chain. The dress is of deep maroon
satin, with the upper part of the bodice of black velvet. The latter is
open at the throat, the points of the collar being turned back, showing
the white lining. This style of collar occurs very rarely in Holbein’s
pictures, and is to be seen in only two others of his finished portraits
of ladies—those of Catherine Howard and Lady Butts. In these two,
however, the “revers” are quite plain, whereas in Mr. Buttery’s picture
they are richly embroidered in black with a floral design, suggesting
carnations, conventionally treated, while round the edge runs a narrow
border with a row of conventionalised flowers of a somewhat similar
pattern, which occurs again on the white ruffs at her wrists. Her long
and thin arms are encased in tightly fitting sleeves, terminating in the
then fashionable “hanging” or “over” sleeves, partly of black velvet,
which are exceptionally full and heavy, with slashings filled in with
white silk embroidered in black with a design suggesting acorns arranged
in groups of four. The skirt, or petticoat, of which little can be seen,
shows an elaborate floral pattern. The lady wears no rings, but has a
plain gold chain wound twice round her neck. The collar of the bodice is
fastened together by a small brooch or pin set with a dark “table”
stone, from which is suspended a circular medallion or pendant of gold
and enamel, with the figure of a lady in a red dress, seated in a
high-backed chair, and playing a lute or viol. Above this figure is a
scroll with the legend, “Praise the Lord for evermore.” The whole is
enclosed within a border of scroll-work, with a grotesque head in white
enamel on either side, green leaves at the bottom and a red rose at the
top. The head-dress is of the curved shape introduced from Paris, and
not the more customary angular English hood. It has two bands of
elaborately wrought goldsmith’s work, and is filled in with cerise-red
satin, which makes a very beautiful colour contrast with the plain
blue-green background, against which the head is so effectively placed.
The arrangement of the fair hair, such of it as can be seen, is both
unusual and attractive, being parted in the centre, while on either side
bands, of slightly lighter colour than the rest, are brought forward
over the ears, which are completely hidden. Individual golden hairs are
indicated against the dark background, and both hair and head-dress have
been rendered with all Holbein’s minute and loving care and dexterity of
draughtsmanship.

The face is a most expressive one. Both the mouth and the grey,
contemplative eyes are full of character, suggested in the most subtle
manner and with unerring brushwork. The modelling of the flesh is of
extraordinary delicacy. The lady, whoever she may be, though not perhaps
strictly beautiful has considerable pretensions to good looks, and her
whole personality, indeed, is one of great charm. The colour-scheme,
too, is one of exceptional attraction. The contrast between the
sombre-coloured garments with glinting lights upon them, and the pale
and pearl-like face, standing out against the blue-green of the
background, is most harmonious, and the band of red in the head-dress
adds to and sets off the delicate blondness of her features. Another
point to be noted is the skill with which the slight ripples in the
plainly-cut bodice and upper sleeves have been indicated, as well as the
little inequalities and furrows in the satin of the head-dress, where
the material has slightly puckered at the edge by which it is fastened
to the ornamental bands. The portrait, indeed, is one of the most
beautiful and attractive ever produced by the painter.

Little or nothing is known of the history of this picture, and at
present the identity of the sitter has not been established. The ancient
family of Bodenham was settled at Rotherwas long before Henry VIII came
to the throne. It was the recent death of Mr. Charles Bodenham, the last
direct descendant of this family, which brought about the sale of the
estate together with the family mansion and the whole of its contents.
“The entire property,” says Mr. Brockwell, “seems to have been first
purchased by a firm at a south coast watering-place, who being in no
special way attracted by the æsthetic and financial value of the
contents of the house, without much ado proceeded to pass them on to a
well-known trading firm in Hereford. Fifty-three pictures and
thirty-five engravings were disposed of at the end of February last by
auction in London. Before that time, it is understood, a picture”—the
picture now in question—“had been, for sentimental reasons, offered for
£15 to distant connections of the Bodenham family, an offer that was not
accepted, and it was ultimately put up for sale at Messrs. Puttick and
Simpson’s.” The Tudor panelling of the house was sold for a great sum of
money to an American collector.

Thomas Bodenham was one of the leading gentlemen of Herefordshire during
Henry VIII’s reign. His name occurs frequently on lists of sheriffs,
magistrates, gaol deliveries, and the like, in his own county, but
otherwise there is no mention of him in the _Calendars of Letters and
Papers_, and he does not appear to have been attached to the Court. It
is not, therefore, very probable that the portrait represents his wife
or daughter, though this would provide the most natural solution of the
sitter’s identity. Most critics who have seen the picture are decidedly
of the opinion that it was produced during Holbein’s first visit to
England, in 1526-8, an opinion based largely on the painting of the
hands, undoubtedly the least satisfactory part of the panel. They are
hard and stiff in the modelling, and have none of the expressiveness
which is so marked a characteristic of Holbein’s painting of hands
during the last ten or twelve years of his life. In some other respects
the picture shows qualities which would seem to place it some years
later in the painter’s career, towards the beginning of his second and
longer residence in this country. One feature which may possibly
indicate a later date than 1527 is the dress, and more particularly the
French hood. It is true that instances are known of the wearing of this
head-dress in England as early as 1527, but at that time its use seems
to have been confined to a few ladies of the highest aristocracy about
the Court. The angular hood with its long black fall was then the almost
universal headgear, and remained so for some years longer. The fashion
of the latter, and the method of wearing it, can be well seen in
Holbein’s costume study of a lady in the British Museum. (No. 11 in Mr.
Binyon’s Catalogue. Not in Woltmann. Reproduced by Ganz in _Die
Handzeichnungen von Hans Holbeins des Jüngeren_, x. 4.) This drawing
consists of two whole-length studies on one sheet. In one of them the
lady stands turned three-quarters to the left, her hands in front of
her, holding a rosary; in the other she is seen more from the back, the
left hand raised and pointing. It is in Indian ink and brush outline,
partly washed with Indian ink, and the flesh tints in red. It is signed
twice, “H. H.” and “H. H. B,” but these signatures are false. An
excellent idea of the costume of the period and of the method by which
the fall was attached to the hood can be gained from this effective
drawing, which was formerly in the Malcolm and Lawrence collections.

The lady of the picture appears to be about twenty-two or twenty-three
years of age, and it is, of course, quite impossible that she can be
Margaret Tudor, whose features are well known, and who was nearly forty
in 1527, while Mary, Queen of Scots, born in 1542, is still more
impossible. The “French Queen,” Mary Tudor, the King’s second sister,
was born in 1498, and so was twenty-nine in 1527; but here again several
authentic portraits of her exist, and these bear little or no
resemblance to Mr. Buttery’s lady. It must be remembered, too, that all
evidence points to the fact that Holbein had no connection with the
Court during his first visit to England. It is very probable that the
luting figure on the medallion is intended to represent St. Cecilia, and
that the sitter, as Mr. Brockwell points out, was named after her. This
suggested to him that it might be a portrait of Sir Thomas More’s second
daughter, Cecilia Heron, who was twenty years of age in 1527 when the
More Family Group was painted; but this theory had to be abandoned, for
there is little or no likeness between the lady of the picture and the
head of Cecilia in the Windsor collection. It is probable that
medallions with a figure of St. Cecilia were by no means uncommon at
that time. Two of them are mentioned in lists of jewels belonging to the
Crown at the period in question. These lists will be found in the
_Calendars of Letters and Papers._ Among the entries in the first list,
dated 1528 (_C. L. P._, vol. iv. pt. ii. 5114) are the following:—“A
brooch with a gentlewoman luting, with a scripture above it,” and “a
gentlewoman, holding a leyer in her hand, silver-gilt (delivered to Mr.
Wyat).” In the second list, dated 1530 (_C. L. P._, vol. iv. pt. iii.
6789), which appears to be a copy of the first, the same entries occur
with slight differences:—“A brooch with a gentlewoman luting, and a
scripture about it,” and “_Images._ A gentlewoman, holding a layer in
her hands, silver-gilt (Mr. Wyat).” There are not, however, sufficient
grounds for suggesting that the lady in question is wearing one of these
particular royal jewels, and that, therefore, she was closely connected
with the King, or even a member of Sir Thomas Wyat’s family, though the
richness and elaborateness of the dress and the exceptionally fine
embroidery seem to indicate a personage of high quality. It is to be
hoped that further researches will solve the mystery of this fair
unknown. In the meanwhile, the portrait provides a very notable and
welcome addition to the tale of the master’s work, and one not easily
surpassed by any other among his portraits of ladies. Thanks to the
great kindness of Mr. Buttery the picture is reproduced here.


                             END OF VOL. I.


------------------------------------------------------------------------




                               FOOTNOTES


-----

Footnote 1:

  Anton Werner, _Der Sammler_, No. 143, 1907.

Footnote 2:

  Anton Werner, _Der Sammler_, No. 143, 1907.

Footnote 3:

  Entries in the Augsburg Bürgerbuch and Steuerbücher.

Footnote 4:

  See Glaser, _Hans Holbein der Ältere_, p. 171.

Footnote 5:

  _Katalog der Œffentlichen Kunstsammlung in Basel_, 1908, p. 66.

Footnote 6:

  Woltmann, A. H., 20.

Footnote 7:

  Woltmann, A. H., 25.

Footnote 8:

  Woltmann, _Holbein und seine Zeit_, i. 67.

Footnote 9:

  See Willy Hes, _Ambrosius Holbein_, p. 149.

Footnote 10:

  Woltmann, 1-4. The first and third reproduced by Curt Glaser, _Hans
  Holbein der Ältere_, Pl. ii.

Footnote 11:

  The “Death of Mary” in the Basel Gallery, formerly part of the Afra
  altar-piece in the chapel of the Kaisheimer-Hofes in Augsburg, bears
  an almost illegible date, which the Basel catalogue gives as 1490, but
  is more probably 1495. See Curt Glaser, _Hans Holbein der Ältere_, p.
  23, and Pl. iii.

Footnote 12:

  Woltmann, 5. Reproduced by Glaser, Pl. v.; Davies (central part), p.
  4.

Footnote 13:

  Or Rehlingen.

Footnote 14:

  Woltmann, 6. See Glaser, p. 36.

Footnote 15:

  Woltmann, i. 49. First cited by Hassler in _Verhandlungen des Vereins
  für Kunst und Altertum in Ulm und Oberschwaben_, ix. and x., 1855, p.
  79.

Footnote 16:

  Woltmann, 207-210. Reproduced by Glaser, Pl. xii.

Footnote 17:

  Three of them reproduced by Glaser, Pls. x. and xi.

Footnote 18:

  Woltmann, 238-253. Ten of the panels reproduced by Glaser, Pls.
  xiv.-xix.

Footnote 19:

  Woltmann, 7. Reproduced by Glaser, Pl. xxii.

Footnote 20:

  Woltmann, 8. Reproduced by Glaser, Pl. xxvi.; Davies (left-hand panel
  only), p. 12.

Footnote 21:

  Glaser, 230. Woltmann, 277. Reproduced by Glaser, Pl. i.

Footnote 22:

  Glaser, 218 and 153. Woltmann, 160 and 170. The first reproduced by W.
  Hes (_Ambrosius Holbein_), Pl. i. (2), and by Woltmann and Frisch in
  _Hans Holbein des Ä. Silberstiftzeich. im Berlin_, Pl. 64; the second
  by Glaser, Pl. xxxvii.; Davies, p. 1; Woltmann, vol. i., frontispiece;
  and elsewhere.

Footnote 23:

  Glaser, 233. Reproduced by Davies, p. 14.

Footnote 24:

  Davies, p. 16.

Footnote 25:

  For details of these payments, taken from the account books St.
  Moritz, see Woltmann, ii. p. 30.

Footnote 26:

  Woltmann, i. pp. 96-97, ii. 31. (Extracts from the Augsburger
  Gerichtsbücher.)

Footnote 27:

  The altar-piece of 1512 for the Convent of St. Catherine is referred
  to in the next chapter. See pp. 23-5.

Footnote 28:

  Woltmann, 254-258. Central panel and inner sides of shutters
  reproduced by Glaser, Pls. xxx., xxxi.; the latter reproduced by
  Davies, p. 22; outer sides of shutters by Woltmann, vol. i. pp. 88,
  89.

Footnote 29:

  Woltmann, i. 95.

Footnote 30:

  Woltmann, vol. ii. p. 132, not numbered; reproduced by Glaser, Pls.
  xxxii., xxxiii.; A. Seeman, in _Zeitschr. f. bild. Kunst_, xiv. p.
  197, 1903 (in colour); Arundel Club, 1907, Pl. 4.

Footnote 31:

  See note at end of this chapter.

Footnote 32:

  Raczynski, _Les Arts en Portugal_, 1846, p. 295.

Footnote 33:

  Glaser, p. 100; Reber, in _Kunstchronik_, xiv. p. 493, 1903.

Footnote 34:

  Glaser, p. 105.

Footnote 35:

  W., 41, 127-31, 279. G., 104-10.

Footnote 36:

  W., 131-2, 226, 279-80. G., 109-14.

Footnote 37:

  W., 109. G., 133.

Footnote 38:

  W., 110. G., 134.

Footnote 39:

  W., 117-18, 224. G., 137-9.

Footnote 40:

  W., 119. G., 140.

Footnote 41:

  W., 120. G., 141.

Footnote 42:

  W., 121. G., 142.

Footnote 43:

  W., 122. G., 143.

Footnote 44:

  W., 149. G., 172.

Footnote 45:

  W., 148. G., 169.

Footnote 46:

  W., 143. G., 164.

Footnote 47:

  W., 141-2. G., 165-6.

Footnote 48:

  W., 111-12. G., 135-6.

Footnote 49:

  W., 153-4. G., 156-7.

Footnote 50:

  W., 231. G., 154.

Footnote 51:

  W., 34. G., 170.

Footnote 52:

  W., 145-6. G., 167-8.

Footnote 53:

  W., 155-7. G., 209-11.

Footnote 54:

  W., 159. G., 213.

Footnote 55:

  W., 133-4. G., 115-17.

Footnote 56:

  W., 124-5, 225. G., 100-2.

Footnote 57:

  W., 126. G., 103.

Footnote 58:

  W., 108. G., 151-2. Reproduced by Glaser, Pl. xxxvi.

Footnote 59:

  Woltmann, 284.

Footnote 60:

  Glaser, p. 133.

Footnote 61:

  _Burlington Magazine_, October 1908, pp. 37-43.

Footnote 62:

  Berlin, 2558. Glaser, 216. Woltmann, 158.

Footnote 63:

  The portrait and both drawings reproduced by Mr. Dodgson in his
  article; and the portrait in the _Illustrated Catalogue of the
  Burlington Fine Arts Club Exhibition_, 1906, Pl. xxxi.

Footnote 64:

  In May of the present year (1913) the “Fountain of Life” picture was
  removed from the Palacio das Necessidades to the Museu Nacional de
  Arte Antiga in Lisbon.

Footnote 65:

  See page 254.

Footnote 66:

  Published in 1868.

Footnote 67:

  Woltmann, i. p. 101.

Footnote 68:

  Woltmann, 14-17.

Footnote 69:

  Reproduced by Glaser, Pl. xxix.

Footnote 70:

  Glaser, p. 85.

Footnote 71:

  Reproduced by Davies, p. 16.

Footnote 72:

  This band of ornament, which is different in each panel, recalls the
  very similar scroll-work by the younger Hans used in the upper part of
  the organ shutters at one time in the cathedral church of Basel.

Footnote 73:

  “IVSSV. VENER. PIENTQVE MATRIS VERONI . . W . . . E. H. HOLBAIN IN
  AVG. ÆT. SVÆ XVII.” Wornum, p. 88. Woltmann, ii. p. 4.

Footnote 74:

  _Kunstwerke und Künstler in Deutschland_, 1845.

Footnote 75:

  Already mentioned, see p. 11. Glaser, 153. Woltmann, 107.

Footnote 76:

  See page 5.

Footnote 77:

  See Hes, p. 12, and footnote giving Woltmann’s various surmises as to
  the date and figures inscribed on the drawing.

Footnote 78:

  Woltmann, 160. Glaser, 218. Reproduced by Woltmann, _H. H. des Ä.
  Silberstiftzeichnungen_, &c., Pl. lxiv.; Hes, Pl. i.

Footnote 79:

  Woltmann, 43. Glaser, 203. Reproduced by His in his publication of the
  elder Holbein’s drawings, Pl. lxxiv.; Hes, Pl. iii.

Footnote 80:

  Woltmann, 58. Glaser, 265. Reproduced by His, Pl. lvii.; Hes, Pl. iv.

Footnote 81:

  Reproduced by Glaser, Pl. xiii.; Hes, Pl. v.

Footnote 82:

  Reproduced by Glaser, Pl. xvii.

Footnote 83:

  See Hes, p. 15.

Footnote 84:

  Parthey, No. 1418.

Footnote 85:

  Or possibly from such miniatures as those in the Duke of Buccleuch’s
  collection. See vol. ii. pp. 230-1.

Footnote 86:

  Woltmann, i. 477. Dr. Paul Ganz suggests that one of these portraits
  may have been the small roundel belonging to Lord Spencer,
  traditionally known as a portrait of Holbein, but considered by him to
  represent the jeweller, Hans of Antwerp. See Ganz, _Holbein_
  (Klassiker der Kunst), p. 253. This large miniature is described more
  fully in vol. ii. pp. 14-15.

Footnote 87:

  Walpole, _Anecdotes_, ed. Wornum, 1888, i. p. 93.

Footnote 88:

  See vol. ii. pp. 230-1.

Footnote 89:

  This small roundel is now considered to be a portrait of Hans of
  Antwerp. See vol. ii. p. 14.

Footnote 90:

  Davies, p. 14.

Footnote 91:

  Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to i. 10.

Footnote 92:

  His name does not appear in the Augsburg rate-books after 1509, and
  after 1512, the date on one of his brother’s portrait-studies of him,
  no further trace of him is to be found in his native city.

Footnote 93:

  Reproduced by Davies, p. 33; Knackfuss, fig. 1; Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 3.

Footnote 94:

  Woltmann, 359.

Footnote 95:

  S. Vögelin, “Ein wiedergefundenes Meisterwerk Holbeins,” in
  _Frankfurter Zeitung_, 1871 (Nos. 236-7, 244, 248), and _Der
  Holbein-tisch auf der Stadtbibliothek in Zürich_, Wien, 1878.
  Reproduced as a whole and in detail, together with a reconstruction,
  by Ganz in _Holbein_ (_K. der K._) pp. 6-9.

Footnote 96:

  Woltmann, 7, 8. Reproduced by Knackfuss, figs. 2, 3; Ganz, _Holbein_,
  pp. 19, 20.

Footnote 97:

  Woltmann, 168. Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 4; and in outline by
  Reinach, _Répertoire de Peintures_, i. p. 401 (as by H. H. the Elder).

Footnote 98:

  Reproduced by Reinach, _Répertoire_, i. p. 4.

Footnote 99:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 5. Wrongly described in Reinach,
  _Répertoire_, as “The Flagellation.”

Footnote 100:

  Dr. Willy Hes considers this portrait to be by Herbster himself. See
  p. 60.

Footnote 101:

  Woltmann, 27. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 4; Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 21.

Footnote 102:

  Woltmann, 24. Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 22.

Footnote 103:

  Woltmann, 25. Reproduced by Davies, p. 38; Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 23.

Footnote 104:

  Woltmann, 26. Reproduced by Davies, p. 40; Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 25.

Footnote 105:

  Woltmann, 28. Reproduced by Davies, p. 42; Knackfuss, fig. 5; Ganz,
  _Holbein_, p. 24.

Footnote 106:

  Davies, p. 40.

Footnote 107:

  Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 233.

Footnote 108:

  Woltmann, 51. Reproduced by Ganz, _Handzeichnungen Schweizerischer
  Meister_, iii. 8; Knackfuss, fig. 66.

Footnote 109:

  See Appendix (A).

Footnote 110:

  Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to iii. 8.

Footnote 111:

  Woltmann, Woodcuts, 193. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 67.

Footnote 112:

  Woltmann, 234. Reproduced by Davies, p. 186; A. F. Butsch, _Die
  Bücher-Ornamentik der Renaissance_, 1878, Pl. 41; Wornum, dedication
  page.

Footnote 113:

  Woltmann, 111.

Footnote 114:

  This inscription, however, is now regarded as a rather doubtful one,
  and it is possible that the book was never permanently in the
  possession of Erasmus. See Hes, _Ambrosius Holbein_, pp. 83-94, where
  the history of the book and the various theories as to its ownership
  and the authorship of the drawings are very fully discussed.

Footnote 115:

  See Ganz, _Hdz. Schweiz. Mstr._, note to i. 52.

Footnote 116:

  Dr. Hes subjects the drawings to careful analysis, and gives a
  complete list, together with the suggested authorship of each of them,
  in _Ambrosius Holbein_, pp. 90-94 and 161-166.

Footnote 117:

  Twelve of them reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schweiz. Mstr._, i. 52; the
  whole set by Mantz, but so badly engraved that they are of little
  service for purposes of comparison; the whole of the drawings now
  attributed to Ambrosius by Hes, Pls. xvi.-xx., and p. 139.

Footnote 118:

  Dr. Hes points out the similarity of this figure to that of the
  schoolmistress in the “Schoolmaster’s Signboard,” and considers that
  Ambrosius had a share in the painting of the latter. See _Ambrosius
  Holbein_, p. 93.

Footnote 119:

  By Ambrosius Holbein.

Footnote 120:

  The name, however, was not written by Erasmus, but is a later
  addition.

Footnote 121:

  Woltmann, under H. H. the Elder, 182. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 6;
  Ganz, _Holbein_ (_K. der K._), p. 203; Hes, Pl. xxxiv.

Footnote 122:

  Dr. Hes regards this portrait as the work of Herbster himself. See
  _Ambrosius Holbein_, p. 145.

Footnote 123:

  Woltmann, under H. H. the Elder, 106, but he afterwards attributed it
  to the younger Hans. Reproduced by Ganz, _Handzeichnungen
  Schweizerischer Meister_, &c., ii. 2; Hes, Pl. xxiv.

Footnote 124:

  Woltmann, 5, 6. Reproduced by Knackfuss, figs. 10, 11; Ganz, _Holbein_
  (_K. der K._), pp. 10, 11.

Footnote 125:

  Woltmann, 11. Reproduced by Davies, pp. 44, 46; Knackfuss, figs. 14,
  15; Ganz, _Holbein_, pp. 12, 13.

Footnote 126:

  On the back of the portrait of Meyer, Holbein painted, four years
  later, the sitter’s coat of arms, surmounted by a scroll inscribed
  “I.M. 1520.” (Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 30.) There is a good
  old copy of the wife’s portrait in the collection of Mr. Ralph
  Brocklebank, Haughton Hall, Tarporley, which was previously in the
  William Graham collection; and a copy of both portraits in the Basel
  Gallery, No. 350, from the Faesch collection.

Footnote 127:

  According to Stödtner, these portraits show the influence of
  Burgkmair.

Footnote 128:

  Woltmann, 33, 34. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, ii. 18 and
  iii. 7, and the “Meyer” in _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 2; the
  “Dorothea” by Davies, p. 46; both by Knackfuss, figs. 12, 13.

Footnote 129:

  “—ogen schwarz—baret rot mosfarb—brauenn gelber dan das har—grusen wit
  brauenn.”

Footnote 130:

  Woltmann, 9. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 16; Ganz, _Holbein_ (_K.
  der K._) p. 14.

Footnote 131:

  Ganz, _Holbein_ (_K. der K._), p. 233.

Footnote 132:

  Reproduced by Law, _Royal Gallery of Hampton Court_, p. 154.

Footnote 133:

  This theory is held by Herr Th. von Liebenau. See his _H. H. des Jüng.
  Fresken am Hertensteinhause zu Luzern_, &c., 1888.

Footnote 134:

  Woltmann, 16. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, ii. 52; Hes,
  Pl. xxx.

Footnote 135:

  E. His, “Die Baseler Archive über H. H.,” in Zahn’s _Jahrbuch_, 1870,
  p. 113. Woltmann, i. p. 135; Hes, p. 16.

Footnote 136:

  Woltmann, 5. Reproduced by Hes, Pl. xxxvi.

Footnote 137:

  Woltmann, Woodcuts, 18-21. See Hes, p. 23, who reproduces all four
  woodcuts, Pls. xiv.-xv.

Footnote 138:

  Woltmann, 2, 3. No. 294 reproduced in the Basel Catalogue, 1908, and
  both by Hes, Pl. xxxi., xxxii.

Footnote 139:

  Woltmann, 24. Reproduced by Hes, Pl. xxix.

Footnote 140:

  Reproduced by Hes, Pl. xxviii.

Footnote 141:

  Woltmann, 23. See Hes, pp. 124-6. Reproduced by him, Pl. xxxiii.

Footnote 142:

  Woltmann, 1. Reproduced by Hes, Pl. xxiii.

Footnote 143:

  Woltmann, 4.

Footnote 144:

  Woltmann, under Hans the Younger, 203. Reproduced by Hes, Pl. xxxvii.;
  Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 204.

Footnote 145:

  See Hes, pp. 144-6.

Footnote 146:

  Woltmann, 6. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 6; Hes, Pl.
  xxvi.

Footnote 147:

  Woltmann, 7. Reproduced by Hes, Pl. xxvii.

Footnote 148:

  Woltmann, 8. Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. xvi.; Hes, Pl. xxv.

Footnote 149:

  Woltmann, 10. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, i. 22;
  Knackfuss, fig. 39; Hes, Pl. xxii.

Footnote 150:

  Woltmann, 22. Reproduced by Hes, Pl. xxxv.

Footnote 151:

  This picture was included in the Exposition de la Toison d’Or, Bruges,
  1907, No. 130.

Footnote 152:

  Woltmann, Woodcuts, 7. Reproduced by Butsch, _Die Bücher-Ornamentik
  der Renaissance_, Pl. 46; Hes, Pl. x.

Footnote 153:

  Woltmann, Woodcuts, 17.

Footnote 154:

  Woltmann, Woodcuts, 16.

Footnote 155:

  See Woltmann, ii. pp. 205-214; Hes, pp. 27-80, and Pls. vi.-xv.; also
  Butsch.

Footnote 156:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, i. 39; Hes, Pl. xxi.

Footnote 157:

  See Hes, p. 148. Reproduced by Vasari Society, No. 17, Pt. i., 1905-6.

Footnote 158:

  Woltmann, 103. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, i. 40; and in
  _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 4; and _Holbein_, p. 154.

Footnote 159:

  Woltmann, 216.

Footnote 160:

  Woltmann, i. p. 143. Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 16.

Footnote 161:

  Woltmann, 53. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, ii. 3; and in
  _Holbein_, p. 154; the left-hand half by His, _Dessins d’Ornaments de
  Hans Holbein_, Pl. ii.

Footnote 162:

  Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to ii. 3.

Footnote 163:

  For completer details, see Th. von Liebenau, _Hans Holbeins d. J.
  Fresken am Hertenstein Hause in Luzern_, 1888; P. Ganz, “Hans Holbeins
  Italienfahrt,” in _Süddeutsche Monatshefte_, 1909, vol. vi. p 596.

Footnote 164:

  Parthey, 1548. Woltmann, ii. p. 166, who doubts that the original was
  by Holbein.

Footnote 165:

  Eight of them reproduced by Ganz, together with a reconstruction of
  the façade by A. Landerer, in _Holbein_, pp. 153-158.

Footnote 166:

  Reproduced in the _Bulletin of the Metropolitan Museum of New York_,
  vol. i. No. 12 (Nov. 1906); _Burlington Magazine_, Oct. 1906, p. 53;
  Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 15.

Footnote 167:

  Woltmann, 58. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, i. 41 (_a_).

Footnote 168:

  See _Süddeutsche Monatshefte_, 1909, p. 599.

Footnote 169:

  See pp. 140-3, 150, &c.

Footnote 170:

  Woltmann, 16. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 19; Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
  55.

Footnote 171:

  See p. 40.

Footnote 172:

  According to Dr. Ganz, the architectural motives are derived from the
  loggia of the Cathedral of Como. See _Holbein_, p. 236.

Footnote 173:

  See chapter vii.

Footnote 174:

  Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, notes to ii. 3, 51, iii. 9, 35; _Holbein_,
  pp. xvi.-xviii.

Footnote 175:

  Woltmann, 83, who calls the figure St. Pantalus. Reproduced by Ganz,
  _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 35.

Footnote 176:

  For further proofs, see Appendix (B).

Footnote 177:

  Gauthiez, _Holbein_, p. 52, and the same writer’s “Holbein sur la
  route d’Italie,” in _Gazette des Beaux-Arts_, Dec. 1897, Feb. 1898.

Footnote 178:

  One is to be seen in the “Fountain of Youth” decoration for the
  Hertenstein house.

Footnote 179:

  Woltmann, 29. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, i. 53.

Footnote 180:

  Woltmann, 107. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 34.

Footnote 181:

  For two others, see Appendix (B).

Footnote 182:

  Woltmann, 99. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 10; and in
  _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 5; Knackfuss, fig. 27.

Footnote 183:

  See Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to iii. 10.

Footnote 184:

  Reproduced by His, _Jahrbuch der Kgl. Preussischen Kunstsammlungen_,
  1894, p. 208.

Footnote 185:

  Gauthiez, p. 56.

Footnote 186:

  _Index Operum Holbenii_, appendix to _Moriæ Encomium_, 1676, Nos.
  47-51. Walpole, _Anecdotes_, ed. Wornum, p. 77.

Footnote 187:

  Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 187, and note upon it, p. 249, from which this
  information is taken.

Footnote 188:

  Reproduced in _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 45, with note by Meyenburg.

Footnote 189:

  See Ganz, _Holbein_, p. xviii.

Footnote 190:

  Woltmann, i. 145.

Footnote 191:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. xl.

Footnote 192:

  Woltmann, i. 145.

Footnote 193:

  Woltmann, i. 183.

Footnote 194:

  From Pantaleon, _Heldenbuch_, vol. iii.

Footnote 195:

  For an exhaustive account of the formation and history of the Amerbach
  Collection, which contains transcripts from the earliest inventory,
  prepared by Basilius Amerbach, down to the one drawn up when the
  collection was taken over by the city, see _Die Entstehung des
  Amerbach’schen Kunstkabinets und die Amerbach’schen Inventare_, by Dr.
  Ganz and Dr. Emil Major, in the 59th annual report (1907) of the Basel
  Gallery.

Footnote 196:

  Woltmann, 10. Reproduced by Davies, p. 60; Knackfuss, fig. 20; Ganz,
  _Holbein_, p. 29.

Footnote 197:

  Wornum, _Holbein_, p. 117.

Footnote 198:

  See Ganz, _Holbein_, p. xvi.

Footnote 199:

  See Ganz, _Holbein_, p. xix.

Footnote 200:

  See p. 138.

Footnote 201:

  See Appendix (E).

Footnote 202:

  Ganz, _Holbein_, pp. 188-191.

Footnote 203:

  Woltmann, 155, 156. Reproduced by Knackfuss, figs. 58, 59; Ganz,
  _Holbein_, pp. 56-59.

Footnote 204:

  There is considerable likeness between this group of the Infant Christ
  and the boy angels surrounding him, and the one in the beautiful “Holy
  Family” by Gaudenzio Ferrari at Dorchester House, more particularly in
  the figure of the angel with small wings and close-fitting dress, who,
  in Holbein’s picture, kneels in front of the Child with his back to
  the spectator, and in the other is shown in profile, supporting him.
  According to Miss Halsey (_Gaudenzio Ferrari_, p. 86), the Dorchester
  House picture was “probably painted about 1521.”

Footnote 205:

  Knackfuss, p. 83.

Footnote 206:

  Woltmann, i. 178.

Footnote 207:

  Woltmann, i. 176. Wornum, p. 112 (quoting from Hegner, _Hans Holbein
  d. J._ 1827, and Schreiber, _Geschichte des Münsters zu Freiburg_,
  &c.).

Footnote 208:

  Woltmann, 20. Reproduced by Knackfuss, figs. 54, 55, and 56; Ganz,
  _Holbein_, pp. 46-54; Mrs. Fortescue, Pl. 9.

Footnote 209:

  According to Peter Ochs, it was painted for the Council Chamber of the
  Basel Town Hall. Boisserée (1829) was of opinion that the damaged
  panel of “The Last Supper,” already described, originally formed the
  central panel of this altar-piece.

Footnote 210:

  Sandrart, _Teutsche Akademie_, ii. p. 82.

Footnote 211:

  Wornum, pp. 68-71.

Footnote 212:

  That the restorer made changes, more particularly in the colour, can
  be seen from two old copies of the “Betrayal” and the “Crucifixion”
  subjects, now in the depot of the Basel Gallery, which indicate the
  picture’s original state.

Footnote 213:

  Woltmann, Eng. trans., p. 128.

Footnote 214:

  See Ethel Halsey, _Gaudenzio Ferrari_, pp. 58, 69, &c.; Ganz,
  _Holbein_, p. xxii., &c. The technique, also, closely resembles that
  of the Milanese school, differing considerably from Holbein’s earlier
  practice.

Footnote 215:

  Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 235.

Footnote 216:

  Reproduced by Ernest Law, _Holbein’s Pictures at Windsor Castle_, Pl.
  x.; Davies, p. 98; Knackfuss, fig. 57; Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 80.

Footnote 217:

  Knackfuss, p. 81.

Footnote 218:

  Davies, p. 98.

Footnote 219:

  _Holbein’s Pictures at Windsor Castle_, p. 32.

Footnote 220:

  Woltmann, 19. Reproduced by Davies, p. 76; Knackfuss, figs. 60, 61;
  Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 45.

Footnote 221:

  See Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 235.

Footnote 222:

  _Jahrbuch der preuss. Kunsts._, 1907, vol. 28.

Footnote 223:

   Woltmann, 62. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, ii. 51;
  Knackfuss, fig. 65.

Footnote 224:

  _Ganz, Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to ii. 51. A photograph of the
  sculptures on this doorway is reproduced by Dr. Ganz in his _Holbein_,
  p. xix.

Footnote 225:

  Woltmann, 52. Reproduced by Davies, p. 224; Knackfuss, fig. 64.

Footnote 226:

  Woltmann, 172. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 6.

Footnote 227:

  See also Appendix (C).

Footnote 228:

  Woltmann, 14. Reproduced by Davies, p. vii.; Knackfuss, figs. 45 and
  46; Ganz, _Holbein_, pp. 32, 33.

Footnote 229:

  Woltmann, vol. i. p. 174.

Footnote 230:

  Woltmann, 247. Reproduced by Davies, p. 80; Knackfuss, fig. 47; Ganz,
  _Holbein_, p. 36.

Footnote 231:

  Or, according to some writers, St. Martin of Tours.

Footnote 232:

  _Holbein_, p. 234.

Footnote 233:

  See Ethel Halsey, _Gaudenzio Ferrari_, p. 42, and Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
  234.

Footnote 234:

  First deciphered by Herr F. A. Zetter-Collin. The carpet itself
  recalls more than one very similar carpet in Ferrari’s pictures,
  though the latter are much finer in design; in a “Madonna and Child”
  belonging to Sig. Vittadini at Arcorre, for instance, or the “Christ
  before Herod” in the Varallo frescoes.

Footnote 235:

  See note to No. 91 in Basel Catalogue, 1908.

Footnote 236:

  “Ein nackend kindlin sitzt vf einer schlangen kompt von Holbeins
  gemeld durch H. Bocken vf holtz mit olfarben mehrteil nachgemolt.”

Footnote 237:

  Woltmann, No. 173. Eng. by J. C. Loedel for Weigel’s _Hdz. berühmter
  Meister._

Footnote 238:

  Woltmann, vol. i. p. 183.

Footnote 239:

  Woltmann, 161. Reproduced by Sir Claude Phillips, _The Picture Gallery
  of Charles I_, _Portfolio_ monograph, 1896, p. 63; Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
  60.

Footnote 240:

  See Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 237.

Footnote 241:

  T. de Wyzewa, in a review of Dr. Ganz’ book, “À propos d’un Livre
  nouveau sur Holbein le Jeune,” in _Revue des Deux Mondes_, January 15,
  1912.

Footnote 242:

  Woltmann, 234. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 14;
  Mantz, p. 45.

Footnote 243:

  In a woodcut by Lucas Cranach, representing Sibylla of Cleves, the
  same motto is shown embroidered in pearls on her cap and collar. See
  Campbell Dodgson, _Catalogue of Early German and Flemish Woodcuts, &c.
  in the British Museum_, ii., p. 320.

Footnote 244:

  Davies, p. 83.

Footnote 245:

  Mrs. Fortescue, _Holbein_, p. 96.

Footnote 246:

  Amiet, _Hans Holbeins Madonna von Solothurn_, &c., 1879.

Footnote 247:

  See F. A. Zetter-Collin, “Die Zetter’sche Madonna von Solothurn,” in
  _Festschrift des Kunst-Vereins der Stadt Solothurn_, 1902; and
  _Zeitschrift für die Geschichte des Oberrheins_, New Series, vol. xi.
  p. 442.

Footnote 248:

  Woltmann, _Holzschnittwerk H. H._, 217 and 218. Reproduced by
  Knackfuss, fig. 40.

Footnote 249:

  See Woltmann, vol. i. p. 199.

Footnote 250:

  Woltmann, 169. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 48; Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
  35; Woltmann (woodcut by Knaus), vol. i. p. 179.

Footnote 251:

  Woltmann, 170. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 49; Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
  34.

Footnote 252:

  See page 79.

Footnote 253:

  Woltmann, p. 179.

Footnote 254:

  Davies, p. 99.

Footnote 255:

  Woltmann, 4. Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, pp. 61-64.

Footnote 256:

  Quoted by Woltmann, vol. i., p. 175.

Footnote 257:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. xxvii.

Footnote 258:

  See Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 237.

Footnote 259:

  Woltmann, 98. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, ii., 19, 20;
  Davies, p. 74; Knackfuss, figs. 62, 63; His, _Desseins_, &c., viii.,
  ix.

Footnote 260:

  See pp. 157-9.

Footnote 261:

  See Ganz, _Holbein_, pp. 246-7.

Footnote 262:

  _Theodori Zwingeri methodus apodemica_, 1577, p. 199—quoted by
  Woltmann, i. 149.

Footnote 263:

  Woltmann, 118. Reproduced by Davies, p. 54; His, Pl. xxiv.; Ganz,
  _Holbein_, p. 160.

Footnote 264:

  Woltmann, 94. Reproduced by him (woodcut), i. 151.

Footnote 265:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 162.

Footnote 266:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 161.

Footnote 267:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 159.

Footnote 268:

  Woltmann, 48. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 10;
  Knackfuss, fig. 41.

Footnote 269:

  Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, p. 26.

Footnote 270:

  Woltmann, 39. Reproduced by His, Pl. xxii. (i.).

Footnote 271:

  See pp. 68-9.

Footnote 272:

  Woltmann, 235, who regarded it as a genuine example of Holbein’s
  earlier Basel period. Reproduced by His, Pls. xviii.-xx.

Footnote 273:

  Woltmann, i. 148-9.

Footnote 274:

  Woltmann, i. 153-4.

Footnote 275:

  See Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 247.

Footnote 276:

  Quoted by Woltmann, i. 152.

Footnote 277:

  Woltmann, i. 159 (note), and Eng. trans., p. 173.

Footnote 278:

  _Basilea Sepulta_, p. 382.

Footnote 279:

  _Geschichte der Stadt und Landschaft Basel_, 1786-1822, vol. v. pp.
  394-400.

Footnote 280:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 165.

Footnote 281:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 164.

Footnote 282:

  The head of Charondas was introduced into a glass painting by H. J.
  Plepp in 1581. See Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 247. A badly over-painted
  fragment with the head from the wall itself is preserved in the Basel
  Gallery.

Footnote 283:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 167.

Footnote 284:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 166.

Footnote 285:

  Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 247.

Footnote 286:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 168.

Footnote 287:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 31.

Footnote 288:

  Woltmann, i. p. 157.

Footnote 289:

  Woltmann, 47. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, i. 13, and also
  in _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. xi., and _Holbein._ 163.

Footnote 290:

  See Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to i. 13.

Footnote 291:

  See Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 247.

Footnote 292:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 171.

Footnote 293:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 171.

Footnote 294:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 169.

Footnote 295:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 170.

Footnote 296:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 170.

Footnote 297:

  See pp. 347-50.

Footnote 298:

  See Woltmann, i. p. 158 (note); Eng. trans., p. 172 (note).

Footnote 299:

  “Vnnd dwyl die hindere wand noch nit gmacht vnnd gemolet ist, vnnd er
  vermeint an dysem das gelt verdient habenn, sol man dieselbig hindere
  want bis vff wytherenn bescheit lossenn an ston.”—Der Dreyer Herren
  Gedenkbüchlein. (Woltmann, i. 159.)

Footnote 300:

  See pp. 78-9, and Appendix (B).

Footnote 301:

  Woltmann, 82-89.

Footnote 302:

  Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 22; His, Pl. xvii.

Footnote 303:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 35; His, Pl. xvi.

Footnote 304:

  See Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to iii. 35.

Footnote 305:

  Reproduced by Knackfuss, figs. 23, 24.

Footnote 306:

  Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 25.

Footnote 307:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 8.

Footnote 308:

  Woltmann, 101. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, i. 24.

Footnote 309:

  Woltmann, 93. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 9; His,
  Pl. iii.

Footnote 310:

  Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to iii. 9.

Footnote 311:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, ii. 49.

Footnote 312:

  See Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to ii. 49.

Footnote 313:

  See also Appendix (B).

Footnote 314:

  Woltmann, 92. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 36;
  Knackfuss, fig. 37; His, Pl. i.

Footnote 315:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 7.

Footnote 316:

  Woltmann, 119. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 36 (in colours); His, Pl.
  xv.

Footnote 317:

  Woltmann, 96. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 35.

Footnote 318:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 7.

Footnote 319:

  Appendix (B).

Footnote 320:

  Woltmann, 121.

Footnote 321:

  Woltmann, 49. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 24.

Footnote 322:

  _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to iii. 24.

Footnote 323:

  See Appendix (D).

Footnote 324:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. xxi.

Footnote 325:

  Woltmann, 112. Reproduced by His, Pl. v.; Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 30.

Footnote 326:

  Woltmann, 102. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 38; His,
  Pl. iv.

Footnote 327:

  See Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to iii. 38.

Footnote 328:

  British Museum, 13, Binyon Catg., ii. p. 329. Woltmann, 209.

Footnote 329:

  Woltmann, 95. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 53 (see
  note to the plate by Meyenburg).

Footnote 330:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 54, and in _Hdz. von H.
  H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 13. See his notes to both plates.

Footnote 331:

  See Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to iii. 54.

Footnote 332:

  See Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to iii. 54.

Footnote 333:

  Woltmann, 90. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, ii. 35; His,
  Pl. vii.

Footnote 334:

  Woltmann, 91. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, i. 42, and in
  _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 15; Knackfuss, fig. 26; His, Pl. vi.

Footnote 335:

  Woltmann, 66. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 28; Mantz, p. 44 (No. 1).

Footnote 336:

  Woltmann, 67. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 22;
  Davies, p. 72; Knackfuss fig. 29; Mantz, p. 44 (No. 2).

Footnote 337:

  Woltmann, 68. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 39;
  Knackfuss, fig. 30; Mantz, p. 44 (No. 3).

Footnote 338:

  See Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to iii. 39.

Footnote 339:

  Woltmann, 69. Reproduced by His, Pl. x.; Mantz, p. 44 (No. 4).

Footnote 340:

  Woltmann, 70. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 31; His, Pl. xi.;
  Woltmann, i. p. 173; Mantz, p. 44 (No. 5).

Footnote 341:

  Woltmann, 71. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 17;
  His, Pl. xii., Mantz, p. 44 (No. 6).

Footnote 342:

  See Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, p. 36.

Footnote 343:

  Woltmann, 72. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, ii. 50;
  Knackfuss, fig. 32; His, Pl. xiii.; Mantz, p. 44 (No. 7).

Footnote 344:

  Woltmann, 73. Reproduced by Mantz, p. 44 (No. 8).

Footnote 345:

  Woltmann, 74. Reproduced by Davies, p. 68; His, Pl. xiv.; Mantz, p. 44
  (No. 9).

Footnote 346:

  Woltmann, 75. Reproduced by Davies, p. 70; Knackfuss, fig. 33;
  Woltmann, i. p. 174; Mantz, p. 44 (No. 10).

Footnote 347:

  Woltmann, 177-183; British Museum, 1-7, Binyon Catg., ii. pp. 327-8.
  See Appendix (D).

Footnote 348:

  Woltmann 76-81. All six reproduced by Mantz, eng. by Edouard Lièvre,
  p. 128.

Footnote 349:

  Woltmann, 76. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 11, and in
  _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 3; Knackfuss, fig. 42.

Footnote 350:

  Woltmann, 80. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 37;
  Davies, p. 136; Knackfuss, fig. 44.

Footnote 351:

  Woltmann, 78. Also wearing a gauze cap.

Footnote 352:

  Woltmann, 77. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 43.

Footnote 353:

  Woltmann, 79.

Footnote 354:

  See pp. 245-6.

Footnote 355:

  Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, note to iii. 11.

Footnote 356:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 26; and see his
  note, p. 44.

Footnote 357:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 55, and in _Hdz. von H.
  H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 12.

Footnote 358:

  Woltmann, 104. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, ii. 36, and in
  _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 28; Knackfuss, fig. 68.

Footnote 359:

  And the Lachner glass design. See Appendix (B).

Footnote 360:

  Woltmann, 63. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, i. 10;
  Knackfuss, fig. 69.

Footnote 361:

  This drawing is only the central part of the design, the left-hand
  half being in the Albertina, Vienna (Woltmann, 259). For the drawing
  at Frankfurt of the transport ship with landsknechte, see Vol. ii. p.
  264.

Footnote 362:

  Woltmann, 105. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 17.

Footnote 363:

  Woltmann, 106. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 18.

Footnote 364:

  Ægidius was thirty-one when the portrait was painted, and had been
  appointed town-clerk seven years previously.

Footnote 365:

  _Archæologia_, xliv. pp. 435 _et seq._

Footnote 366:

  Reproduced by Sir Claude Phillips, _Art Journal_, 1897, p. 101;
  Arundel Club, 1905; Catalogue of the Pictures in the Earl of Radnor’s
  Collection, 1909, vol. i. No. 80; A. Machiels, _Gaz. des Beaux-Arts_,
  Nov. 1911, heliotype.

Footnote 367:

  Inscribed “Viro Literatissimo Petro Egidio Amico Charissimo
  Antuerpiæ.”

Footnote 368:

  Eng. by F. Leuwers, 1873. For a description and history of the two
  pictures, see H. Barclay Squire, in Lord Radnor’s Catalogue, note to
  No. 80, vol. i. pp. 44, 45.

Footnote 369:

  Law, _Royal Gallery of Hampton Court_, 1898, p. 215.

Footnote 370:

  A poor reproduction of this portrait—which Wornum (p. 143) regarded as
  a fine, genuine work by Holbein, but in some of its details recalling
  Metsys—accompanies M. Henri Hymans’ article “Quentin Metsys et son
  Portrait d’Erasme,” in the _Bulletin des Commissions Royales d’Art et
  d’Archéologie_, 1882; reproduced also by J. R. Haarhaus, “Bildnisse
  des Erasmus,” _Zeits. für bild. Kunst_, Nov. 1898.

Footnote 371:

  See André Machiels, “Les Portraits d’Erasme,” _Gazette des
  Beaux-Arts_, November 1911, pp. 349-61, who reproduces the Rome
  portrait; also W. Barclay Squire, _Lord Radnor’s Catalogue_, addit.
  note to No. 80.

Footnote 372:

  One of these drawings is in the collection of M. Léon Bonnat, Paris,
  and is reproduced in the _Gaz. des Beaux-Arts_, 1879, i. p. 269.

Footnote 373:

  Reproduced by A. Machiels, _Gaz. des Beaux-Arts_, Nov. 1911, p. 355.

Footnote 374:

  See Appendix (E).

Footnote 375:

  According to Walpole, _Anecdotes_, ed. Wornum, 1888, i. p. 344, the
  pictures were “altered” by Von Steenwyck for King Charles.

Footnote 376:

  Wornum, p. 140.

Footnote 377:

  Law, _Holbein’s Pictures at Windsor Castle_, 1901, p. 28.

Footnote 378:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 207.

Footnote 379:

  See Appendix (E).

Footnote 380:

  See A. Horawitz, _Zeitschrift für bildende Kunst_, viii. p. 128.
  Quoted by Woltmann, i. p. 286.

Footnote 381:

  F. M. Nichols, _Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries_, second
  series, xvii. No. I., pp. 132-145.

Footnote 382:

  Woltmann, 214. Reproduced by Davies, frontispiece; Sir Claude
  Phillips, _Art Journal_, 1897, p. 102; Earl of Radnor’s Catalogue, No.
  81; Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 37; Machiels, _Gaz. des Beaux-Arts_, Nov.
  1911, p. 357. Exhibited Royal Academy Winter Exhib., 1873, No. 178.

Footnote 383:

  In _Jahrbücher des Vereins von Alterthumsfreunden im Rheinlande_,
  1868, p. 269, quoted by Woltmann, i. p. 288. For other readings by
  Grimm, &c., see W. Barclay Squire in Lord Radnor’s Catalogue, note to
  81.

Footnote 384:

  See Sir Claude Phillips, _Art Journal_, 1897, p. 103. Also Waagen,
  _Galleries and Cabinets_, 1857, p. 356, who says that it is “alone
  worth a pilgrimage to Longford Castle.”

Footnote 385:

  Woltmann, 232. Reproduced by Davies, p. 110; Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
  xxiii.

Footnote 386:

  Woltmann, 231. Reproduced by Davies, p. 110; Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem
  Jüng._, Pl. 16.

Footnote 387:

  It is possibly the portrait noted by Evelyn in his _Diary_, August 10,
  1655—“I went to Alburie to visit Mr. Howard.... He shew’d me many rare
  pictures, particularly ... _Erasmus_ as big as the life, by Holbein.”
  This could hardly refer to the small Greystoke portrait.

Footnote 388:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 206. Mr. Barclay Squire notes copies
  of Mr. Gay’s version in the Bodleian Library, Oxford, presented by Sir
  James Thornhill in 1728, and one in Archbishop Tenison’s School,
  Leicester Square (note to No. 81, Lord Radnor’s Catalogue).

Footnote 389:

  See Colvin, _Burlington Magazine_, vol. xvi. Nov. 1909, p. 71.

Footnote 390:

  Woltmann, 224. Reproduced by Davies, p. 108; Knackfuss, fig. 52; Sir
  C. Phillips, “Picture Gallery of Charles I,” _Portfolio Monograph_,
  1896, p. 23; Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 39.

Footnote 391:

  The study for this hand, in the Louvre, has aleady been mentioned (see
  Pl. 55).

Footnote 392:

  Reproduced by Cust, _Royal Collection of Paintings, Windsor Castle_,
  Pl. 47.

Footnote 393:

  Or perhaps the small roundel at Basel mentioned below.

Footnote 394:

  Vol. xxix., 1884, p. 423.

Footnote 395:

  Woltmann, 12. Reproduced by Woltmann, vol. i. p. 315, fig. 57; Ganz,
  _Holbein_, p. 38.

Footnote 396:

  Woltmann, ii. p. 99.

Footnote 397:

  Woltmann, i. p. 290.

Footnote 398:

  Ganz, _Holbein_, p. xxvi.

Footnote 399:

  See Ganz, _Holbein_, pp. xxv.-vi.

Footnote 400:

  See Appendix (F).

Footnote 401:

  He may have gone, of course, as Lützelburger’s representative.

Footnote 402:

  Woltmann, 44 and 45.

Footnote 403:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._ iii. 25; Knackfuss, fig. 53.

Footnote 404:

  See Chapter xxi., Vol. ii. p. 138 _et seq._

Footnote 405:

  See Vol. ii. p. 162.

Footnote 406:

  Reproduced in the _Burlington Magazine_, vol. xvi., November 1909,
  frontispiece; Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 91.

Footnote 407:

  _Burlington Magazine_, vol. xvi., November 1909, pp. 67-71.

Footnote 408:

  Only one of these has Holbein’s name attached to it in the Arundel
  inventory of 1655. The two are entered as “Erasmo di Holbein” and
  “Ritratto d’Erasmo Roterodamo.” See above, p. 171, note 4.

Footnote 409:

  Reproduced in _Burlington Magazine_, vol. xvi., November 1909.

Footnote 410:

  Woltmann, 240. Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 86.

Footnote 411:

  The much inferior version in the Besançon Museum (reproduced by Ganz,
  _Holbein_, p. 215) is an almost exact replica of the Parma picture.

Footnote 412:

  See M. Curtze, _Beiblatt der Zeitschrift für bildende Kunst_, 1874,
  ix. 537 ff.; Woltmann, vol. ii. p. 15; and Colvin, _Burlington
  Magazine_, vol. xvi. p. 68.

Footnote 413:

  Woltmann, 13. Reproduced by Davies, p. 112; Knackfuss, fig. 114; Ganz,
  _Holbein_, p. 90.

Footnote 414:

  Woltmann, 23.

Footnote 415:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 214; the hands and body follow the
  Longford picture, while the head is like the Parma version.

Footnote 416:

  Woltmann, 250. Reproduced by André Machiels, _Gaz. des Beaux-Arts_,
  November 1911, p. 359, who regards it as an original work by Holbein.

Footnote 417:

  Woltmann, 171.

Footnote 418:

  Woltmann, 207. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 51.

Footnote 419:

  Woltmann, 206. Reproduced by Woltmann, i. 357, fig. 63; Knackfuss,
  fig. 112; Machiels, _Gaz. des Beaux-Arts_, November 1911, p. 358; and
  elsewhere.

Footnote 420:

  Reproduced by Law, _Holbein’s Pictures in Windsor Castle_, viii. p.
  27, and in _Royal Gallery of Hampton Court_, p. 220; Sir C. Phillips,
  “The Picture Gallery of Charles I,” _Portfolio Monograph_, 1896, p.
  111; Davies, p. 28; Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 207.

Footnote 421:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 208.

Footnote 422:

  Law, _Holbein’s Pictures_, &c., p. 28.

Footnote 423:

  Woltmann, i. p. 289.

Footnote 424:

  Knackfuss, p. 78.

Footnote 425:

  Woltmann, 164. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 113; Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
  92.

Footnote 426:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 92.

Footnote 427:

  On this point see Koegler, _Jahrbuch d. Pr. K.-S._, 1911, and Ganz,
  _Holbein_, p. 239.

Footnote 428:

  Woltmann, ii. p. 359.

Footnote 429:

  Woltmann, 43. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 50
  (in colours), and _Holbein_, frontispiece; Davies, p. 100; Knackfuss,
  fig. 21; Wornum, frontispiece, eng. by C. W. Sharpe.

Footnote 430:

  According to Dr. Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 232, this cutting-out was in all
  probability done in the eighteenth century, when at the same time the
  hat and mantle were freshened with water-colours.

Footnote 431:

  Dr. Ganz points out (_Holbein_, p. 232), that it was not until after
  his journey into France, in 1523-4, that he made use of coloured
  chalks in his drawings.

Footnote 432:

  Another drawing of this period in the Basel Gallery, the Young Man
  with the big hat, is described in Vol. ii. pp. 259-60.

Footnote 433:

  Including Woltmann, in the first edition of his book, Eng. trans., p.
  205.

Footnote 434:

  The same initials occur on the title-page to Hall’s _Chronicle_, 1548.
  See Vol. ii. p. 79.

Footnote 435:

  Woltmann, Eng. trans., p. 205.

Footnote 436:

  See Campbell Dodgson, _Burlington Magazine_, vol. x., Feb. 1907, pp.
  319-22; also the same writer’s Catalogue of Early German and Flemish
  Woodcuts in the British Museum, vol. ii., 1911, p. 295, &c.

Footnote 437:

  See His, “Hans Lützelburger,” &c., in _Gazette des Beaux-Arts_, 2^e
  Période, vol. iv. pp. 481-9 (December 1871).

Footnote 438:

  Mr. Frederic Lees, however, mentions as clearly by Holbein, “a drawing
  for the celebrated _Dance of Death_ series, and the only one of the
  forty which now exists,” which is in the collection of M. Emile
  Wauters in Paris.—_The Studio_, vol. li. No. 213, p. 213 (December
  1910).

Footnote 439:

  See pp. 44-5 and Pl. 11.

Footnote 440:

  Woltmann, 223. Reproduced by Butsch, _Die Bücher-Ornamentik der
  Renaissance_, Pl. 45; and by Mantz, _Hans Holbein_, p. 26.

Footnote 441:

  _Calendars of Letters and Papers, Hen. VIII_, vol. ii. pt. i. 2540.

Footnote 442:

  Woltmann, A. H., 4. Reproduced by Butsch, Pl. 43. Already used by
  Froben in more than one book in the previous year (1517).

Footnote 443:

  Woltmann, 217, 218. See p. 111.

Footnote 444:

  Woltmann, 227. Reproduced by Butsch, Pl. 54; Knackfuss, fig. 50;
  Mantz, p. 43.

Footnote 445:

  Woltmann, 215. Reproduced by Butsch, Pl. 57.

Footnote 446:

  Woltmann, 216.

Footnote 447:

  Woltmann, 184-7.

Footnote 448:

  Woltmann, 188-91.

Footnote 449:

  Woltmann, 192. Reproduced in _Holbein_, “Great Engravers” Series (A.
  M. Hind), 1912.

Footnote 450:

  Woltmann, 213.

Footnote 451:

  Woltmann, 150-70.

Footnote 452:

  See Woltmann, i. 218-20.

Footnote 453:

  Woltmann, 171.

Footnote 454:

  Woltmann, 226.

Footnote 455:

  Woltmann, 212.

Footnote 456:

  Woltmann, 195, 196. Reproduced by Woltmann, i. pp. 237-38.

Footnote 457:

  Woltmann, 231. Reproduced by Butsch, Pl. 64; Woltmann, i. p. 200.

Footnote 458:

  Woltmann, 232. Reproduced by Butsch, Pl. 64; Wornum, p. 13, &c.

Footnote 459:

  Woltmann, 233.

Footnote 460:

  Woltmann, 253. Four of the letters reproduced by Woltmann, Eng.
  trans., p. 218.

Footnote 461:

  Woltmann, 254.

Footnote 462:

  Woltmann, 255-9.

Footnote 463:

  Woltmann, 251.

Footnote 464:

  Woltmann, 266-8.

Footnote 465:

  Woltmann, 238_a_, 238_b._

Footnote 466:

  Woltmann, 239-41.

Footnote 467:

  Woltmann, 242, 243.

Footnote 468:

  Woltmann, 244, 245.

Footnote 469:

  Woltmann, 246-8.

Footnote 470:

  Woltmann, 249. A number of these marks reproduced by Butsch, Pls. 50,
  51.

Footnote 471:

  See Appendix (G).

Footnote 472:

  Woltmann, 209.

Footnote 473:

  Woltmann, 205.

Footnote 474:

  See Vol. ii. pp. 76-9.

Footnote 475:

  See Woltmann, i. chap. xi.; Chatto, _Treatise on Wood Engraving_, ed.
  Bohn, chap. vi.; Douce, _Dance of Death_, 1858, pp. 30-37.

Footnote 476:

  Woltmann, 92-149.

Footnote 477:

  See p. 190.

Footnote 478:

  Chatto, _A Treatise on Wood Engraving_, ed. 1861, pp. 330-1.

Footnote 479:

  See Woltmann, i. 269.

Footnote 480:

  See Campbell Dodgson, _Catalogue of Early German and Flemish
  Woodcuts_, &c., vol. ii. p. 207. The cut of “The Duchess” has the date
  1542, and that of “The Advocate” the engraver’s monogram, HVE, from
  which it appears that Jost de Negker did not cut the blocks himself,
  but was only the publisher.

Footnote 481:

  See introductory note by Austin Dobson to the edition published by
  George Bell & Sons, 1898. The whole set reproduced by Mantz, pp.
  83-87; and by Davies, pp. 196-200, from the proofs in the British
  Museum; and in Heinemann’s “Great Engravers” Series, _Holbein_, ed. A.
  M. Hind, 1912, which includes the cuts of the 1562 edition.

Footnote 482:

  Chatto, _Treatise_, &c., pp. 324-5.

Footnote 483:

  Chatto, _Treatise_, &c., p. 365; Woltmann, i. p. 240; Wornum, p. 25.

Footnote 484:

  Woltmann, 252. The set reproduced by Davies, p. 194; Knackfuss, fig.
  71; and elsewhere. They are used as the initial letters in this book.

Footnote 485:

  Woltmann, 1-91. The whole series reproduced by Mantz, pp. 92-108; and,
  with the exception of seven, by A. M. Hind, in _Holbein_, “Great
  Engravers” series, 1912; thirteen by Davies, p. 188.

Footnote 486:

  Chatto, _Treatise_, &c., p. 366.

Footnote 487:

  Woltmann, 1st ed., Eng. trans., p. 233.

Footnote 488:

  A considerable number of the subjects appear to have been suggested to
  Holbein by the small woodcuts in the Malermi Bible, published in
  Venice in 1490, which, in turn, had been more or less adapted from the
  Cologne Bible of 1480; but the material so used by Holbein was
  completely transformed by the magic of his pencil. See A. M. Hind,
  _Holbein_, in “Great Engravers” series, p. 10.

Footnote 489:

  See pp. 160-1.

Footnote 490:

  Woltmann, 251.

Footnote 491:

  Woltmann, i. 316.

Footnote 492:

  Woltmann, 143. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 89; Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
  65; and elsewhere.

Footnote 493:

  Dr. Ganz points out the resemblance between this picture and
  Mantegna’s “Madonna of Victory” in the Louvre. In the latter the
  kneeling suppliants are also protected by the Virgin’s cloak, and the
  movement of her hand, outstretched in benediction over Gonzaga’s head,
  is just the same as that of the Infant Christ in the Meyer votive
  picture (_Holbein_, p. xxviii.).

Footnote 494:

  Woltmann, 40-42.

Footnote 495:

  Reproduced by Davies, p. 90; Knackfuss, fig. 86.

Footnote 496:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 18 (in colour);
  Davies, p. 92; Knackfuss, fig. 87.

Footnote 497:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 56; Davies, p. 94;
  Knackfuss, fig. 88.

Footnote 498:

  Reproduced by Davies, p. 88; Knackfuss, fig. 90; Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
  209.

Footnote 499:

  See Wornum, p. 166; Woltmann, i. pp. 300-14.

Footnote 500:

  December 1871, iv., 2nd period, pp. 516-19.

Footnote 501:

  Woltmann, ii. pp. 49-50. See Appendix (E).

Footnote 502:

  Woltmann, i. p. 296.

Footnote 503:

  Wornum, p. 171.

Footnote 504:

  _Anzeiger für Schweiz. Altertumskunde_, N. F. xii. 4. Sarburgh painted
  a portrait of Remigius Faesch. See Appendix (E).

Footnote 505:

  Sainsbury, _Original unpublished Papers, illustrative of the Life of
  P. P. Rubens_, &c., 1859, Appendix, No. liii. p. 290. Quoted by
  Wornum, p. 170.

Footnote 506:

  Woltmann, i. p. 298; ii. p. 56.

Footnote 507:

  The history of the Dresden copy, given below, bears out this
  supposition.

Footnote 508:

  Elsewhere he speaks of it as the sixth.

Footnote 509:

  Walpole, _Anecdotes_, &c., ed. Wornum, 1888, i. 93.

Footnote 510:

  Ruskin, “Sir Joshua and Holbein,” _Cornhill Magazine_, March 1860, p.
  328; reprinted in _On the Old Road_, vol. i. pt. i., pp. 221-236.

Footnote 511:

  Davies, p. 94-5.

Footnote 512:

  See p. 158.

Footnote 513:

  She was, however, born in 1508, and so would be too young for the lady
  of these pictures.

Footnote 514:

  Woltmann, 17. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 91; Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
  40.

Footnote 515:

  Woltmann, 18. Reproduced by Davies, p. 102; Knackfuss, fig. 92; Ganz,
  _Holbein_, p. 41.

Footnote 516:

  Woltmann, 1st ed., Eng. trans., p. 289. Omitted in 2nd ed.

Footnote 517:

  Wornum, p. 163.

Footnote 518:

  Mrs. G. Fortescue, _Holbein_, p. 105-6.

Footnote 519:

  T. de Wyzewa, “À propos d’un Livre nouveau sur Holbein le Jeune,”
  _Revue des Deux Mondes_, 15th Jan. 1912.

Footnote 520:

  See pp. 79 and 137-8.

Footnote 521:

  Knackfuss, p. 115.

Footnote 522:

  Wornum, pp. 162-4.

Footnote 523:

  Davies, pp. 102-3.

Footnote 524:

  _Burlington Magazine_, vol. iv. No. xi. (Feb. 1904) p. 187.

Footnote 525:

  See p. 233.

Footnote 526:

  _Calendars of Letters and Papers, &c., Hen. VIII_, iv. Pt. i. 1547.

Footnote 527:

  See p. 22.

Footnote 528:

  Woltmann, 1st ed., Eng. trans., p. 292.

Footnote 529:

  _Erasmi Opera_, iii. 951.

Footnote 530:

  _Calendars of Letters and papers, &c., Hen. VIII_, i. preface, p. xxv.

Footnote 531:

  _C. L. P._, i. 2053.

Footnote 532:

  _C. L. P._, i. 5720.

Footnote 533:

  _C. L. P._, ii. Pt. ii., Revels Accounts, p. 1499.

Footnote 534:

  _C. L. P._, i. 4954.

Footnote 535:

  18th April 1520. _C. L. P._, iii. Pt. i. 750.

Footnote 536:

  21st May 1520. _C. L. P._, iii. Pt. i. 825.

Footnote 537:

  _C. L. P._, iii. Pt. ii., Revels Accounts, p. 1551.

Footnote 538:

  _Memoir of Henry FitzRoy, Duke of Richmond and Somerset_, Camden
  Society, 1855, p. 87.

Footnote 539:

  _C. L. P._, iii. Pt. ii. 3517.

Footnote 540:

  _C. L. P._, iv. Pt. i. 965.

Footnote 541:

  _C. L. P._, iv. Pt. ii. 3564.

Footnote 542:

  J. Gough Nichols, _Archæologia_, xxxix. pp. 23-25 (1862).

Footnote 543:

  See _Archæologia_, xxxix. p. 25.

Footnote 544:

  Walpole, _Anecdotes of Painting_, ed. Wornum, 1888, i. 64.

Footnote 545:

  _C. L. P._, v. 1139 (30).

Footnote 546:

  _C. L. P._, v., Privy Purse Expenses of Hen. VIII, Feb. 1532.

Footnote 547:

  _C. L. P._, v. 952.

Footnote 548:

  _C. L. P._, x. 914.

Footnote 549:

  _C. L. P._, xiv. Pt. ii. 238.

Footnote 550:

  _C. L. P._, xiv. Pt. ii. 782 (p. 336).

Footnote 551:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 1489 (f. 188).

Footnote 552:

  J. Gough Nichols, _Archæologia_, xxxix. p. 27.

Footnote 553:

  See p. 276.

Footnote 554:

  J. Gough Nichols, _Archæologia_, xxxix. p. 34.

Footnote 555:

  Walpole, _Anecdotes of Painting_, ed. Wornum, 1888, p. 62.

Footnote 556:

  _Archæologia_, xxxix. p. 30.

Footnote 557:

  Wornum, p. 22.

Footnote 558:

  Lionel Cust, _Introductory Notes to the Catalogue of the Burlington
  Fine Arts Club Exhibition of Early English Portraiture_, 1909, pp. 47,
  48.

Footnote 559:

  See Nichols, _Archæologia_, xxxix. p. 29.

Footnote 560:

  Lionel Cust, _Introductory Notes, Catg. Burl. Fine Arts Club Exhib.
  Early English Portraiture_, 1909, p. 48.

Footnote 561:

  _C. L. P._, vii. 922 (14 and 15).

Footnote 562:

  Wornum, p. 32.

Footnote 563:

  _C. L. P._, iv. Pt. ii. 3169.

Footnote 564:

  _C. L. P._, iv. Pt. i. 2152.

Footnote 565:

  _C. L. P._, iv. Pt. ii. 4435, 4572, 4574-77, 4652.

Footnote 566:

  _C. L. P._, iv. Pt. iii. 5163.

Footnote 567:

  _C. L. P._, iv. Pt. ii. 5117.

Footnote 568:

  _C. L. P._, v. 978 (15).

Footnote 569:

  _Loseley Manuscripts._

Footnote 570:

  _C. L. P._, xiii. Pt. ii. 1280, f. 55 b.

Footnote 571:

  _C. L. P._, i. 5604.

Footnote 572:

  See Vol. ii. pp. 238-9.

Footnote 573:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 305 (25).

Footnote 574:

  Burl. Fine Arts Club Exhib., 1909, No. 29.

Footnote 575:

  Lionel Cust, _Introductory Notes_, _Burl. Fine Arts Club Exhib.
  Catg._, 1, 1909, pp. 45, 46.

Footnote 576:

  See also Scharf, _Archæologia_, xxxix. pp. 47-9.

Footnote 577:

  See _Burlington Magazine_, vol. xiv., March 1909, pp. 366-8.

Footnote 578:

  See Cust, _Catg. Burl. Fine Arts Club Exhib._, 1909, p. 60.

Footnote 579:

  _C. L. P._, i. 775.

Footnote 580:

  See M. Digby Wyatt, “On the Foreign Artists employed in England during
  the Sixteenth Century,” _Transactions of the Royal Institute of
  British Architects_, 1868, p. 220.

Footnote 581:

  Cust, _Catg. Burlington Fine Arts Club Exhibition_, 1909, p. 61.

Footnote 582:

  Cust, p. 61.

Footnote 583:

  _C. L. P._, i. 5720.

Footnote 584:

  _C. L. P._, i. 4954.

Footnote 585:

  _C. L. P._, ii. Pt. ii. p. 1461.

Footnote 586:

  _C. L. P._, ii. Pt. ii. p. 1472.

Footnote 587:

  _C. L. P._, ii. Pt. ii. 3862.

Footnote 588:

  _C. L. P._, iii. Pt. i. 826. See p. 259.

Footnote 589:

  _C. L. P._, iv. Pt. i. 366.

Footnote 590:

  _C. L. P._, iv. Pt. ii. 3104.

Footnote 591:

  _C. L. P._, v., Privy Purse Expenses.

Footnote 592:

  _C. L. P._, v. 686.

Footnote 593:

  _Archæologia_, xxxix. p. 28.

Footnote 594:

  _C. L. P._, v., Treasurer of the Chamber’s Accounts, p. 305.

Footnote 595:

  See above, p. 273.

Footnote 596:

  _Transactions of the Royal Institute of British Architects_, p. 227.

Footnote 597:

  Lewis Einstein, _The Italian Renaissance in England_, 1902, p. 196,
  and Cust, _Catg. Burl. Fine Arts Club Exhib._, 1909, p. 64.

Footnote 598:

  _C. L. P._, v., 952 (p. 446).

Footnote 599:

  _C. L. P._, v., Treasurer of the Chamber’s Accounts, p. 307.

Footnote 600:

  Mr. Cust gives his salary as £20 per annum, but the entry in the
  accounts is always 33_s._ 4_d._ a quarter, not a month, though this,
  of course, may be an error of book-keeping.

Footnote 601:

  See M. Digby Wyatt, _Transactions_, &c., p. 225.

Footnote 602:

  _Transactions_, &c., p. 225.

Footnote 603:

  _C. L. P._, v., Treasurer of the Chamber’s Accounts, p. 319.

Footnote 604:

  _C. L. P._, v., Privy Purse Expenses, March 1531. “To Anthony Pene and
  Bartilmew Tate, paynters, for ther lyveray at 22_s._ 6_d._ a pece,
  45_s._”

Footnote 605:

  Vol. c. 6, 12. Quoted by Wornum, p. 204, note.

Footnote 606:

  _Hampton Court Accounts_, Wornum, p. 205, note.

Footnote 607:

  _C. L. P._, v., Privy Purse Expenses.

Footnote 608:

  _C. L. P._, xiii. Pt. i. 1309 (35).

Footnote 609:

  _C. L. P._, xiv. Pt. ii. 782 (p. 335).

Footnote 610:

  _C. L. P._, xiii. Pt. ii. 967 (46).

Footnote 611:

  _C. L. P._, xiii. Pt. ii. 1280 (f. 53_b_).

Footnote 612:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 1489 (f. 165).

Footnote 613:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 779 (18).

Footnote 614:

  _C. L. P._, xvii. 1251 (13).

Footnote 615:

  _Loseley Manuscripts_, edit. Kempe, pp. 81, 84, 89.

Footnote 616:

  _Archæologia_, xii. pp. 381, 391.

Footnote 617:

  _C. L. P._, iii. Pt. ii. 2486.

Footnote 618:

  See J. Gough Nichols, _Archæologia_, xxxix. p. 38: and Cust, _Catg.
  Burl. Fine Arts Club Exhib._, 1909, p. 63.

Footnote 619:

  See Dimier, _French Painting in the Sixteenth Century_, pp. 115, 116.

Footnote 620:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 1308 (4).

Footnote 621:

  _C. L. P._, iii. Pt. i. 1355.

Footnote 622:

  _C. L. P._, v., Treasurer of the Chamber’s Accounts, p. 305.

Footnote 623:

  _Catg. Burl. Fine Arts Club Exhib._, 1909, p. 65.

Footnote 624:

  See Dimier, _French Painting in the Sixteenth Century_, pp. 60, 86.
  Also the same writer’s _Le Primatice_, 1900. The name was sometimes
  spelt Belin.

Footnote 625:

  p. 75.

Footnote 626:

  Quoted in _Burlington Gazette_, II. i. May 1903, p. 55.

Footnote 627:

  _C. L. P._, xiii., Pt. ii. 1280 (f. 47b).

Footnote 628:

  _C. L. P._, xiv. Pt. ii. 781 (f. 68).

Footnote 629:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 37.

Footnote 630:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 59.

Footnote 631:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 60.

Footnote 632:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 82.

Footnote 633:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 115.

Footnote 634:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 163, 168.

Footnote 635:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 182.

Footnote 636:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 276. See also Appendix (H).

Footnote 637:

  See Appendix (H).

Footnote 638:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 308 (f. 119b).

Footnote 639:

  _C. L. P._, xvi. 1308 (5).

Footnote 640:

  _Archæologia_, xxxix. p. 37.

Footnote 641:

  Loseley Manuscripts, “Revels at Hampton, 16 July to 6 Sep., 38 Hen.
  VIII.”

Footnote 642:

  Loseley Manuscripts, “Coronation of Ed. VI.”

Footnote 643:

  Loseley Manuscripts, “Shrovetide Revels, 2 Ed. VI.”

Footnote 644:

  Quoted by Nichols, _Archæologia_, xxxix. p. 37.

Footnote 645:

  _Archæologia_, xxxix. p. 55.

Footnote 646:

  Cust, _Cat. Burl. F.A. Club Exhib._, 1909, p. 64; National Gallery
  Catalogue.

Footnote 647:

  Vasari, as quoted by Scharf, _Archæologia_, xxxix. pp. 53, 54.

Footnote 648:

  See above, p. 245.

Footnote 649:

  Davies, p. 115.

Footnote 650:

  See page 245. Davies, p. 94.

Footnote 651:

  See below, p. 315.

Footnote 652:

  See p. 169.

Footnote 653:

  _C. L. P._, iv. pt. i. 1826; _Erasmi Opera_, iii. 951.

Footnote 654:

  _Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries_, Second Series, xvii. No.
  i. pp. 132-145.

Footnote 655:

  _Proceedings_, Second Series, xvi. No. iii. pp. 321-327.

Footnote 656:

  Walpole, _Anecdotes_, &c., ed. Wornum, 1888, i. 90. The sixth picture
  to which he refers is the Meyer Madonna.

Footnote 657:

  Woltmann, 35. Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 192, _Hdz. Schwz.
  Mstr._, i. 55, and _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 23; Davies, p. 116;
  Knackfuss, fig. 93.

Footnote 658:

  Engraved by Dean for _The Bijou_, 1829.

Footnote 659:

  One of the versions of the picture was in the Earl of Arundel’s
  collection, and is entered in the 1655 inventory as “Tomaso Moro con
  la sua famiglia.” In the same collection there was a portrait of
  More’s son, entered as “Il figliolo de Tomaso Moro,” but without the
  name of the artist. See Appendix (I) for the history of the Nostell
  picture.

Footnote 660:

  Roper’s _Life and Death of Sir Thomas More_, &c., ed. Rev. J. Lewis,
  1731, p. 169.

Footnote 661:

  The heads in the Windsor Collection.

Footnote 662:

  Walpole, _Anecdotes_, &c., ed. Wornum, 1888, p. 92.

Footnote 663:

  Wornum, p. 244.

Footnote 664:

  Woltmann, 1st ed., Eng. trans, p. 322. For Vertue’s account, see
  Appendix (I).

Footnote 665:

  Nos. lviii. and lix., “Nostell Priory, Wakefield,” _Athenæum_, Sept.
  18, 25, 1880.

Footnote 666:

  See pp. 311-16.

Footnote 667:

  Woltmann, i. 350, note.

Footnote 668:

  Wornum, pp. 231-246.

Footnote 669:

  See Appendix (I).

Footnote 670:

  Wornum, pp. 245-6.

Footnote 671:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 193.

Footnote 672:

  According to Mr. W. Roberts, _Memorials of Christie’s_, 1897, vol. i.
  p. 81, the measurements of the picture, as given in the sale catalogue
  of 1808, are 10 ft. by 15 ft.

Footnote 673:

  Reproduced in the catalogue, p. 214.

Footnote 674:

  Walpole, _Anecdotes_, &c., ed. Wornum, 1888, p. 92.

Footnote 675:

  Vol. iii. pt. i. p. 490.

Footnote 676:

  Woltmann, 275; Wornum, i. 6; Sir R. Holmes, i. 4.

Footnote 677:

  Woltmann, 276; Wornum, i. 42; Sir R. Holmes, i. 7.

Footnote 678:

  Wrongly inscribed “The Lady Barkley.” Woltmann, 278; Wornum, ii. 34;
  Sir R. Holmes, i. 5.

Footnote 679:

  Woltmann, 279; Wornum, ii. 12; Sir R. Holmes, i. 6.

Footnote 680:

  Woltmann, 277; Wornum, ii. 35; Sir R. Holmes, i. 8.

Footnote 681:

  Wrongly inscribed “Mother Jak.” Woltmann, 280; Wornum, ii. 40; Sir R.
  Holmes, i. 9.

Footnote 682:

  Woltmann, 273, 274; Wornum, i. 3, 4; Sir R. Holmes, i. 3 and ii. 18.

Footnote 683:

  Woltmann, 207. Reproduced by Davies, p. 118; _Catalogue of the Tudor
  Exhibition_, 1890, p. 44; A. F. Pollard, _Henry VIII_, p. 114;
  _Burlington Fine Arts Club Exhib. Catg._, Pl. xviii.; Ganz, _Holbein_,
  p. 69. The portrait is now in America. See Appendix (I).

Footnote 684:

  _Catg. Burl. Fine Arts Club Exhib._, 1909, p. 95. The entry in the
  Lumley inventory is—“Of Sir Thomas Moore, Lo. Chancello^r, drawne by
  Haunce Holbyn.”

Footnote 685:

  One of these copies was in 1867 in the possession of Mr. Charles J.
  Eyston, of East Hendred (Wornum, p. 246), and a second in the
  collection of the Marquis of Lothian. There was a small circular
  portrait of More, on wood, 4 in. in diameter, in Charles I’s
  collection (No. 48), in a black cap, furred gown, and red sleeves.
  Evelyn notes in his Diary, under the date Feb. 15th, 1649:—“Sir
  William Ducy shew’d me some excellent things in miniature, and in oyle
  of Holbein’s _Sir Tho. More’s_ head.” Among the numerous copies in
  existence is one by Rubens in the Prado, Madrid. A portrait of More,
  “invested with the collar of the Garter, by Holbein; upon a pedestal
  is inscribed the date, MDXXVII,” was included in the sale of the Duke
  of Bedford’s pictures from Woburn Abbey, on 30th June 1827, and
  fetched 70 guineas.

Footnote 686:

  See p. 335.

Footnote 687:

  Mr. W. F. Dickes, however, reproduces it in his book, _Holbein’s
  “Ambassadors” Unriddled_, p. 80, as a portrait by Holbein of the Count
  Palatine Philipp! Engraved by Vorsterman as a portrait of More by
  Holbein. Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 225.

Footnote 688:

  _Athenæum_, June 19, 1886, No. 3060, p. 820.

Footnote 689:

  Quoted by Wornum, p. 248.

Footnote 690:

  Wornum, pp. 248, 249.

Footnote 691:

  _Il Microcosmo della Pittura_, 1657, ii. 265.

Footnote 692:

  _History of Portrait Miniatures_, 1904, vol. i. p. 8.

Footnote 693:

  Reproduced in Dr. Williamson’s book, Pl. iii. No. 2, and in colours in
  the _édition de luxe_ of Mr. Pierpont Morgan’s Catalogue, No. 5; and
  by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 227 (1), who includes it among the copies after
  Holbein.

Footnote 694:

  In the exhibition of miniatures held at South Kensington in 1865 there
  was one of “Alicia, wife of Sir Thomas More,” attributed to Holbein,
  lent by Mr. J. Heywood Hawkins (No. 1146).

Footnote 695:

  Reproduced in the _Burl. Fine Arts Club Exhib. Catg._, Pl. xiv; Ganz,
  _Holbein_, p. 194.

Footnote 696:

  Reproduced by Vasari Society, Pt. i. No. 31; _Burl. Fine Arts Club
  Exhib. Catg._, Pl. xxix.

Footnote 697:

  _Daily Telegraph_, 23rd March 1910.

Footnote 698:

  Reproduced in _The Ancestor_, vi., June 1903.

Footnote 699:

  The drawing in the Windsor Collection inscribed “Lady Henegham” bears
  considerable likeness to the Margaret Roper of the Basel sketch, and
  some writers hold that it represents her, and that it is a study for
  the Family Group. The position, however, in the Windsor study is
  exactly reversed, the sitter being shown in profile to the right, so
  that it is not probable that it was a preliminary drawing for the big
  group. Though the resemblance is marked, it is not so close as that
  between the “Queen Katherine” portrait at Knole and the Basel sketch,
  and the same criticism applies to the ornaments and dress, which in
  the two last-named are identical, whereas the “Lady Henegham” drawing
  shows differences, particularly in the jewellery. See also vol. ii. p.
  258. The question of the authorship of the various versions of the
  More Family Group is dealt with more fully in Appendix (I).

Footnote 700:

  _Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries_, Second Series, vol. xvii.
  No. i. pp. 132-145, from which the quotations from Hall, and other
  facts in this chapter, have been taken.

Footnote 701:

  For these and the following extracts, see _C. L. P._, iv. pt. ii.
  3097-98, 3104, 3107.

Footnote 702:

  _C. L. P._, v. 952. See p. 262. The name suggests Nicholas Lysard or
  Lyzarde, serjeant-painter to Queen Elizabeth, who was also in the
  service of Henry and Edward VI. He died in 1570, and has been usually
  regarded as an Englishman. See vol. ii., pp. 309-10. Possibly,
  however, Lasora was not an Italian. He may have been the “Nic.
  Leysure, a German,” mentioned in the royal accounts, in September
  1539, as receiving payment under a warrant for 200 _cr. soleil_ for
  life.

Footnote 703:

  Woltmann, 264. Reproduced by Law, _Holbein’s Pictures at Windsor
  Castle_, Pl. i.; Davies, p. 130; Knackfuss, fig. 100; Ganz, _Holbein_,
  p. 72.

Footnote 704:

  _C. L. P._, iv. pt. iii. 5774.

Footnote 705:

  Law, _Holbein’s Pictures_, &c., p. 3.

Footnote 706:

  Woltmann, 282; Wornum, i. 1; Sir R. Holmes, i. 11. Reproduced by
  Davies, p. 210. A second fine drawing of Guldeford, on a reddish a
  different version from the one at Windsor, was in Mr. J. P.
  Heseltine’s collection of drawings, dispersed in 1912.

Footnote 707:

  Mr. Lionel Cust notes a roundel painting of Guldeford in the
  collection of Lord Kinnaird at Rossie Priory (_Burl. Mag._, August
  1912, p. 258).

Footnote 708:

  On panel, 25½ in. × 20½ in.

Footnote 709:

  Woltmann, “Holbein at the National Portrait Gallery,” _Fortnightly
  Review_, vol. vi. 1866, p. 160; also _Life_, i. 344.

Footnote 710:

  _The English Connoisseur_, 1776, vol. i. p. 145; Dodsley’s _London and
  its Environs Described_, vol. iii. p. 268 (quoted by Mr. Law, p. 4).

Footnote 711:

  See Law, p. 4.

Footnote 712:

  Woltmann, 206.

Footnote 713:

  _Athenæum_, 17th January 1880.

Footnote 714:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 227 (2).

Footnote 715:

  Parthey, 1410. Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 260.

Footnote 716:

  Woltmann, 32. Reproduced by Davies, p. 224; Knackfuss, fig. 105;
  Mantz, p. 175.

Footnote 717:

  Woltmann, 37. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, i. 11.

Footnote 718:

  Woltmann, 36.

Footnote 719:

  Woltmann, 281; Wornum, i. 2; Sir R. Holmes, i. 12. Reproduced by
  Davies, p. 126; Knackfuss, fig. 96.

Footnote 720:

  Woltmann, 208. Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 70.

Footnote 721:

  Woltmann, 225. Reproduced by Davies, p. 126; Knackfuss, fig. 97; Ganz,
  _Holbein_, p. 71.

Footnote 722:

  Wornum, p. 218, quoting from Lysons and Brayley.

Footnote 723:

  Walpole, _Anecdotes_, &c., ed. Wornum, 1888, i. 79.

Footnote 724:

  Reproduced in the illustrated edition of Catalogue, p. 64.

Footnote 725:

  Reproduced in the illustrated edition of the Oxford Catalogue.

Footnote 726:

  Woltmann, 283; Wornum, i. 24; Sir R. Holmes, i. 13. Reproduced by
  Davies, p. 128; Knackfuss, fig. 98.

Footnote 727:

  British Museum, 9; Woltmann, 198. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H.
  dem Jüng._, Pl. 24.

Footnote 728:

  Froude, _Henry VIII_, i. 301.

Footnote 729:

  Walpole, _Anecdotes_, &c., ed. Wornum, i. p. 81.

Footnote 730:

  Woltmann, 144. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 103; Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
  74.

Footnote 731:

  It was at one time in the Arundel Collection, and is entered in the
  1655 inventory as “2 Ritratti in un quadro col nome de Thomas
  Godsalve.” It was purchased for Dresden in Paris in 1749.

Footnote 732:

  Woltmann, 286; Wornum, i. 31; Sir R. Holmes, i. 36. Reproduced by
  Ganz, _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 25; Davies, p. 218.

Footnote 733:

  Woltmann, i. 345.

Footnote 734:

  _Norfolk_, vii. 214.

Footnote 735:

  _C. L. P._, v. 514.

Footnote 736:

  _C. L. P._, vii. 1189 (25th Sept. 1534).

Footnote 737:

  _C. L. P._, vi. 576.

Footnote 738:

  _C. L. P._, v. 1598 (12).

Footnote 739:

  _C. L. P._, vii. 1026 (2).

Footnote 740:

  _C. L. P._, viii. 802 (26).

Footnote 741:

  Woltmann, 226. Reproduced by Davies, p. 132; Knackfuss, fig. 102;
  Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 73.

Footnote 742:

  It appears to have been at one time in the Arundel Collection, and is
  entered in the inventory of 1655 as “Ritratto d’un Mathematico.” As
  all the other portraits just mentioned were also in the Earl’s
  possession, it is natural to suppose that they were obtained by him
  directly from De Loo.

Footnote 743:

  Wornum, p. 222.

Footnote 744:

  According to Walpole, the Kratzer which was at Holland House “till the
  death of the Countess of Warwick, wife of Mr. Addison,” was a second
  version; perhaps the one now belonging to Viscount Galway. This
  version, according to the same authority, appears to have been in the
  possession of Sir Walter Cope before passing into the Holland House
  collection.

Footnote 745:

  Walpole, _Anecdotes_, &c., ed. Wornum, i. 79.

Footnote 746:

  See chap, xxi., vol. ii. p. 152.

Footnote 747:

  _C. L. P._, iii. pt. i. 1018, 1019. It was during this same visit to
  Antwerp that Dürer drew Kratzer’s portrait.

Footnote 748:

  _C. L. P._, iv. pt. ii. 3540 (28).

Footnote 749:

  _C. L. P._, v., Privy Purse Expenses.

Footnote 750:

  Ed. Howes, p. 570.

Footnote 751:

  Woltmann, 219. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 104; Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
  211.

Footnote 752:

  Wornum, p. 295.

Footnote 753:

  See Ganz, _Holbein_, note to 211, p. 251; and K. Voll, _Suddeutsche
  Monatshefte_, 1905, ii. 8, p. 177.

Footnote 754:

  Woltmann, 213. Wornum, p. 294.

Footnote 755:

  Reproduced in the _Burl. Fine Arts Club Exhib. Cat._, Pl. xiii.; Ganz,
  _Holbein_, p. 79.

Footnote 756:

  See _Notes and Queries_, 4th series, v. p. 313; _Athenæum_, Nos. 2186,
  2187 (Sept. 18, 25, 1869); and _Dict. of Nat. Biog._, under “Tuke.”

Footnote 757:

  Hampton Court, 610 (325). Woltmann, 162. Reproduced by Ernest Law,
  _Holbein’s Pictures_, &c., Pl. ix.; Davies, p. 184; Cat. Tudor Exhib.,
  1890, No. 72, p. 32; Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 113.

Footnote 758:

  Woltmann, 308; Wornum, i. 17; Sir R. Holmes, i. 48. Reproduced by
  Knackfuss, fig. 143.

Footnote 759:

  Wornum, p. 216.

Footnote 760:

  _C. L. P._, v. 1363.

Footnote 761:

  See Law, _Holbein’s Pictures_, &c., p. 29.

Footnote 762:

  Woltmann, 217. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 101; Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
  224.

Footnote 763:

  Woltmann, 227. Reproduced in _Masterpieces of Holbein_ (Gowan’s Art
  Books, No. 13), p. 19; Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 78.

Footnote 764:

  _Burlington Magazine_, December 1909, p. 159.

Footnote 765:

  On panel, 14 in. high by 12½ in. wide.

Footnote 766:

  _Burlington Magazine_, December 1909, p. 154.

Footnote 767:

  Woltmann, i. 341.

Footnote 768:

  Woltmann, 284; Wornum, i. 34; Sir R. Holmes, i. 38. Reproduced by
  Davies, p. 216.

Footnote 769:

  Woltmann, 285; Wornum, ii. 19; Sir R. Holmes, i. 39. Reproduced by
  Davies, p. 216.

Footnote 770:

  Woltmann, 140. Reproduced by S. Arthur Strong in _Drawings by the Old
  Masters at Chatsworth_, 1902, Pl. liv.; _Burlington Magazine_, vol.
  i., April 1903, p. 224.

Footnote 771:

  S. Arthur Strong, _Drawings, &c._, and in _Critical Studies and
  Fragments_, p. 133.

Footnote 772:

  Woltmann, 141. Reproduced by Strong in _Drawings_, &c., 1902, Pl. lv.;
  _Burlington Magazine_, vol. i., May 1903, p. 354.

Footnote 773:

  Reproduced by Law, _Holbein’s Pictures_, &c., Pl. iv.; Knackfuss, fig.
  99.

Footnote 774:

  See Vol. ii. pp. 87-9.

Footnote 775:

  _Die Basler Archive über H. H. dem Jüngern_, in Zahn’s _Jahrbücher für
  Kunstwissenschaft_, iii. 123, 1870.

Footnote 776:

  Woltmann, i. 354.

Footnote 777:

  See pp. 75-6.

Footnote 778:

  Woltmann, i. 355.

Footnote 779:

  _C. L. P._, iv. pt. iii. 5922. _Eras. Ep._, p. 1230.

Footnote 780:

  _C. L. P._, iv. pt. iii. 5924. _Eras. Ep._, p. 1232.

Footnote 781:

  _C. L. P._, iv. pt. iii. 6048. _Eras. Ep._, p. 1743.

Footnote 782:

  Woltmann, i. 356.

Footnote 783:

  Woltmann, 15. Reproduced by Davies, p. 134; Knackfuss, fig. 107;
  _Œffentliche Kunstsammlung in Basel_, 57th annual report, new series,
  iii. p. 1, 1907; Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 83.

Footnote 784:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 213, who mentions other copies at
  Aix-les-Bains, Constance, in the Albertina, &c. At the time Dr.
  Woltmann was writing his book it was in Cologne, in the possession of
  Herr Brasseur, the picture-dealer.

Footnote 785:

  Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 212.

Footnote 786:

  “A propos d’un Livre nouveau sur Holbein le Jeune,” in _Revue des Deux
  Mondes_, 15th January 1912.

Footnote 787:

  Woltmann, 46. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, i. 23 (in
  colour); and in _Holbein_, p. 89. Possibly it represents a sister or
  near relation of Elsbeth Holbein.

Footnote 788:

  See Woltmann, i. p. 159.

Footnote 789:

  Woltmann, 21. Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 84.

Footnote 790:

  Woltmann, 65. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, ii. 4 (in
  colour), and in _Holbein_, p. 172; Knackfuss, fig. 115.

Footnote 791:

  Woltmann, 21. Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 85.

Footnote 792:

   Woltmann, 64. Reproduced by Ganz, _Hdz. Schwz. Mstr._, iii. 23, and
  in _Hdz. von H. H. dem Jüng._, Pl. 27 (both in colours), and in
  _Holbein_, p. 173; Knackfuss, fig. 116.

Footnote 793:

  Woltmann, 56. See Vol. ii. p. 278.

Footnote 794:

  See Vol. ii. pp. 277-8, 281.

Footnote 795:

  Ganz, _Holbein_, p. xxxiv.

Footnote 796:

  Koegler, _Jahrbuch der preuss. Kunstsammlungen_, 1911.

Footnote 797:

  See pp. 179-80 and 184-5.

Footnote 798:

  Woltmann, i. 362.

Footnote 799:

  _Holbein_, p. 136.

Footnote 800:

  See Appendix (J).


------------------------------------------------------------------------




 ● Transcriber’s Notes:
    ○ Appendices A through K referenced in this volume are in volume 2.
    ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.
    ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected.
    ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only
      when a predominant form was found in this book.
    ○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).

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