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