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. ------------------------------------------------------------------------