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

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

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

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

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