139. Wornum, p. 301, and Dresden Catalogue, 1884.
140. See Milan under the Sforza, by C. M. Ady, p. 124.
141. Woltmann, 146. Reproduced by Wornum (photograph), p. 300.
As a matter of fact Hubert Morett was not an Englishman at all, nor could he be rightly described as “goldsmith” to Henry VIII. He was a Frenchman, one of several jewellers of Paris, who paid periodical visits to London for the purpose of selling their wares to the King and Court. Thus, in August 1536, in Gostwick’s accounts, is the entry: “Hubbert Morret, jeweller of Paris, for jewels bought by the King £282, 6s. 8d.,”[142] while in January 1532 he received 242 crowns, or £56, 9s. 4d., for similar goods.[143] Granger’s statement that Morett “did many curious works after Holbein’s designs” has no foundation in fact. Hollar’s engraving[144] simply calls the subject “Mr. Morett,” though Parthey, in a second edition of his book, cites a second state of the engraving, sold in 1844, with the added words, “Jeweller to Henry VIII”; no one, however, has so far succeeded in discovering a proof of this state, and, in all probability, these words were merely written on this particular proof by someone who had noted the reference to Morett in the Privy Purse Expenses of Henry VIII, published by Nicolas in 1827. This, no doubt, was the source of the legend, adopted at Dresden, that the picture represented a court jeweller.
142. C.L.P., vol. xi. 381.
143. C.L.P., vol. v., Privy Purse Expenses of Henry VIII, under January 1532.
144. Parthey, No. 1470.
It remained for a Swedish critic, M. S. Larpent, finally to re-establish the identity of the sitter as that Count of Moretta mentioned in Wake’s letter in the seventeenth century. In a pamphlet published in Christiania in 1881, Sur le Portrait de Morett, he proved conclusively that the Dresden picture represents Charles de Solier, Sieur de Morette. M. Larpent drew attention to the fact that the drawing for the head was once in the possession of Richardson, the painter, and that at his sale in 1746 it was included in his catalogue as “One Holbein, sieur de Moret, one of the French hostages in England,” this, no doubt, being the traditional title which had remained with the drawing since it was in the Arundel collection. It has been suggested that Hollar’s engraving was done neither from the Dresden picture nor from the drawing, as it shows considerable differences in the dress and details, and is circular in shape, while the inscription is “Holbein pinxit” not “delineavit,” indicating that it was done from a painting and not a drawing, and thus proving that the Earl of Arundel possessed another portrait of Morette, which has disappeared. In this connection Sir Sidney Colvin draws attention to the print by Hollar of an unknown man after a painting by Holbein formerly in the Earl of Arundel’s collection, which he thinks represents Jean de Dinteville.[145] “Now, this print of Hollar’s,” he says, “is an exact companion to his other print from the ‘Mr. Morett’ in the Arundel collection. Both are small rounds, apparently taken from paintings of almost miniature size, such as Holbein is in several instances known to have made of persons who had also sat to him for full-sized portraits. I conclude that he had painted two such companion miniatures, besides his larger pictures, of the two successive French envoys, Dinteville and Morette, and that both came into the possession of the Earl of Arundel.”[146]
145. This is the print, already mentioned (see p. 44), in connection with the fine Windsor drawing to which Miss Hervey first drew attention as a possible likeness of Dinteville.
146. In a letter to The Times, 11th September 1890.
The identity of the sitter was established beyond all possibility of doubt in 1903 by the late Mr. Max Rosenheim’s discovery of a fine contemporary medallion portrait of the same personage, carved in boxwood, with his name and titles in full, and on the back his device of a seaport, a horse, and a dolphin.[147] Charles de Solier was born in 1480, and was fifty-four years old when resident ambassador in England in 1534, the year in which Holbein painted him. He represented him life-size and half-length, standing facing the spectator, dressed in a doublet of black satin, the sleeves of which, from the elbow downwards, are slashed with white silk. His surcoat is of the same black material, with a heavy collar and lining of fur. Both dress and black cap are decorated with gold tags, and in the latter he wears a circular gold enseigne with a figure of Fortune. Round his neck hangs a gold chain to which is suspended a medallion or watch-case of open-work. In his right hand he holds a glove, and his left, which is gloved, grasps the gilt and elaborately chased sheath of a dagger, suspended from his girdle by a chain with a large tassel, such as the one worn by Dinteville. His long beard of a reddish colour is touched here and there with grey. The background consists of a curtain of green damask. It is about 3 ft. 1 in. high by 2 ft. 6½ in. wide.
147. See Burlington Magazine, vol. ii., August 1903, p. 369. The medallion is in the Salting Collection, and the costume is the same as in the picture. The inscription runs: “Carolvs · de · Solario · Dns · Morety · Anno · Agens · L.”
Holbein’s art, both in the subtle insight it displays into character and in its technical achievement, is seen in its highest manifestation in this superb and nobly-dignified portrait, which bears the stamp of truth in every touch. The handling is both brilliant and delicate in all the accessories, in the fine modelling of the flesh, and in the wonderful draughtsmanship of the right hand grasping the glove. As a likeness of a living man and as an expression of the most intimate traits of his character, it holds its own with any piece of portraiture in the world, and is, indeed, complete in every respect, displaying the finest taste in conception combined with consummate skill and unerring accuracy in execution, and most harmonious colour. The original study for it, which, no doubt, once formed a part of the Windsor collection, and now hangs by the side of the picture in Dresden, is unsurpassed for its truth and force, and the subtlety with which the likeness is expressed by the simplest means, eye and hand acting in perfect accord and allowing nothing essential to escape them.
The two small roundels, about six inches in diameter, portraits of a man, probably an Englishman, and his wife, in the Vienna Gallery[148] (Nos. 1482, 1484), formerly in the Schloss Ambras collection, are dated 1534. They are fine works, almost in miniature, though they do not show Holbein at his highest point of achievement. The man, who has a dark-brown beard, wears a black cap and a scarlet surcoat on which the letters H. & R. are embroidered in black and gold, indicating that he was in the service of Henry VIII. Across the background is inscribed: “ETATIS SVÆ 30. ANNO 1534.” The woman, of a very homely type of face, is wearing a dark-brown and black dress, and a white head-dress, which hides her hair and falls on her shoulders in the form of a cape. This head-dress is identical with the one worn by the unknown lady in the Windsor collection (Holmes No. 10), which Sir Richard Holmes thought might be a portrait of “Mother Jack,” nurse to Edward VI. It is inscribed: “ETATIS SVÆ 28. ANNO 1534.” Both portraits have now a very dark blue-green background with a small circular ring of gold round the outer edge. The two are evidently husband and wife, and the latter has more the appearance of a German than an Englishwoman. It may be suggested, therefore, though with diffidence, that it is not impossible that these two small portraits represent Susanna Hornebolt and her husband, John Parker, the King’s bowman and a yeoman of the robes. Dürer speaks of Susanna as being “about eighteen” in 1521, which does not quite tally with the age of the sitter in the Vienna roundel, who was twenty-eight in 1834, but it is again not impossible that Dürer imagined the young lady to be two or three years older than she was in reality. Dr. Ganz draws attention to the close likeness between this portrait and the one of an unknown man, also a small roundel, in the possession of Herr F. Engel-Gros, at Château de Ripaille near Thonon,[149] which he reproduces for the first time. The sitter is clean-shaven, facing three-quarters to the right, with a small flat red cap, elaborate black and white Spanish work on his shirt collar, and a red livery coat, lined with blue, with black bands and the initials “H. R.” embroidered on it. He considers him to be either a Netherlander or a German, and suggests that he was possibly a painter in Henry VIII’s service. It may be permitted to go a step further and to suggest that we have here a portrait of Susanna’s brother, Lucas Hornebolt. It was first exhibited in Basel in 1891, and nothing of its earlier history is known. It bears no signature or date, but is evidently of the same period as the two Vienna roundels. There is an excellent old copy on copper of this roundel in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge (No. 537),[150] in which, however, the cap and coat are black, while no trace of the royal initials on the latter can be discerned.
148. Woltmann, 256, 257. Reproduced in Magazine of Art, March 1897, p. 279; Masterpieces of Holbein (Gowan’s Art Books, No. 13), pp. 46, 47; Ganz, Holbein, p. 105.
149. Reproduced by Ganz, Holbein, p. 115. Purchased by the present owner in Paris.
150. Reproduced in F. R. Earp’s Descriptive Catalogue of the Pictures in the Fitzwilliam Museum, 1902, and in The Principal Pictures in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Gowans & Gray, Ltd., 1913, p. 86.
Among the Windsor drawings there are three, two of them very fine, which represent members of the Poyns or Poyntz family—John Poyns,[151] of North Wokendon, Essex, a member of the royal household and one of Wyat’s most intimate friends, in which the face is almost in profile to the right, with the eyes turned upwards, and a small round black cap which only covers the hair in part; and two of Nicholas Poyntz, of the Gloucestershire branch of the family.[152] Both are inscribed “N. Poines Knight,” and they are generally regarded as portraits of a father and son, and are described as Sir Nicholas Poyntz the Elder, and Sir Nicholas Poyntz the Younger. In the one he is represented almost full-face, with beard and bare head, a free drawing without the black lines, and somewhat rubbed. The other is a small head in profile to the left, with a short beard and moustache, wearing a round cap with white feather, and a gold chain on his shoulders. There seems to be no great difference between the ages of the two, and as Nicholas Poyntz’s father was named Anthony, probably the inscription on the first-named drawing is incorrect, and the sitter is not a member of this family. There are various portraits based upon the second drawing, all apparently contemporary copies of a lost original.[153] One of them was lent by the Marquis of Bristol to the Tudor Exhibition, 1890 (No. 79). It is a life-size portrait, half-length, in a black dress, on panel, 24 × 17 in. Another is described by Woltmann, who saw it in the possession of the Marquis de la Rosière in Paris.[154] It was photographed by Braun, but since then has disappeared. It agrees with the drawing and Lord Bristol’s picture. Both are inscribed on the right-hand side of the blue background:—“ETATIS SVÆ 25. ANNO 1535,” and above, a three-lined French motto—“IE OBAIS A QVI IE DOIS. IE SERS A QVI ME PLAIST. ET SVIS A QVI ME MERITE.” Woltmann regarded the Paris example as a fine and genuine work by Holbein,[155] but it is only an old copy. There is another in the possession of Lord Spencer at Althorp. Wornum notes a miniature on vellum, with a plain blue background, then in the possession of Mr. R. S. Holford, of Dorchester House, which corresponds with the Windsor drawing.[156] Sir Nicholas Poyntz was the eldest son of Anthony Poyntz, of Iron Acton, Gloucestershire, and Elizabeth, daughter and heir of William Hudson, of Devonshire. He does not appear to have held any office in connection with the Court. He married Joan, daughter of Thomas, Lord Berkeley, and died in 1557.
151. Woltmann, 301; Wornum, i. 9; Holmes, i. 47. Reproduced by Davies, p. 220; and in Drawings of Hans Holbein (Newnes), Pl. xx. A fine head of “John Poines,” on a reddish ground, was in the recently dispersed collection of Mr. J. P. Heseltine.
152. Woltmann, 299, 300; Wornum, i. 19, 36; Holmes, i. 37, ii. 26; reproduced in Drawings of Hans Holbein, Pl. xxii. xxv.
154. Woltmann, 239. Reproduced by Ganz, Holbein, p. 217. There was a portrait of the “Cavaglier Points” in the Arundel Collection.
155. Woltmann, i. pp. 408-9.
156. Wornum, p. 404. It was included in the Exhibition of Miniatures held at South Kensington in 1865, No. 763.
Another portrait painted by Holbein in 1535 was that of the French poet, Nicolas Bourbon de Vandœuvre, who was in England during that year. Bourbon was court-poet to Francis I, but eventually fell into disgrace owing to certain passages in his poems. In 1534 he was thrown into prison, from which he was finally released through the intervention of Henry VIII, whose interest in him had been aroused both by Anne Boleyn, who had made his acquaintance during her residence at the French Court in her younger days, and also by Henry’s physician, Dr. Butts. To show his gratitude he came over to England in 1535, and found plenty of employment in court circles as an instructor of youth. He returned to France in 1536, leaving many friends behind him. While in London he appears to have lodged with Cornelis Hayes, one of the chief goldsmiths employed by the King. Among his more intimate friends were Kratzer and Holbein, as may be gathered from a letter which he wrote after his return to France to Thomas Solimar, the King’s secretary, in which he says:—“I have yet to beg you to greet in my name as heartily as you can all with whom you know me connected by intercourse and friendship: Mr. Thomas Cranmer, the Archbishop of Canterbury ... Mr. Cornelius Heyss, my host, the King’s goldsmith; Mr. Nicolaus Kratzer, the King’s astronomer, a man who is brimful of wit, jest, and humorous fancies; and Mr. Hans, the royal painter, the Apelles of our time. I wish them from my heart all joy and happiness!”[157]
157. Quoted by Woltmann, i. p. 404.
Bourbon held Holbein’s art in the greatest admiration, and more than one reference to it, couched in terms of high praise, appears in his printed works. The original study for the portrait Holbein painted of him is among the Windsor drawings,[158] but the picture itself has disappeared. In the sketch he is represented turned to the left, with a pen in his hand, as though in the act of composing. He has a small beard, and wears a black cap over his long hair, and looks thoughtfully in front of him, the right arm and hand being only roughly indicated. It is inscribed “Nicholas Borbonius Poeta,” and is a fine drawing, in excellent condition, but some doubts have been expressed as to whether it really represents the poet. Bourbon was delighted with the portrait Holbein painted of him, and sings its praises in an epigram on the “incomparable painter” Hans Holbein, which he published in his Nugae. It runs:
158. Woltmann, 311; Wornum, i. 30; Holmes, i. 54. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 123; Drawings of Hans Holbein, Pl. xxxv.
(“While the divine genius of Hans immortalises my features, tracing them on the panel with skilful hand, I also have painted him thus in verse; Hans, thus painting me, was greater than Apelles.”)
Holbein made a smaller drawing of the portrait, which was produced as a woodcut for the 1538 edition of Bourbon’s poems, the Nugae. In this also the poet is engaged in writing, but the position is reversed. It is inscribed “Nic. Borbonius Vandop. Anno Aetatis xxxii. 1535.” The portrait is circular, within a square, the corners being filled in with Renaissance ornament, and below two naked boys supporting a shield with Bourbon’s coat of arms, a swan surmounted by a cross. On the last page is printed the following:
Both his friendship for Holbein and his admiration for his art find expression in a further poem or epigram printed in the Nugae, headed “In picturam Hansi regii apud Britannos pictoris et amici.” The verses describe a miniature painting by Holbein:
(My Hans has painted on an ivory panel a slumbering boy, looking like a reposing Cupid; I see him, I am astonished, I regard him as Charintus, whom my heart loves most warmly; I approach burning with passion, yet as I kiss him, it is only a semblance.)
All traces of this miniature, which Bourbon extols so highly, have disappeared. Two other laudatory references to Holbein occur in the Nugae. In the 1538 edition, which was published in Lyon in the same year as the “Dance of Death” cuts and the Old Testament illustrations, the following lines have reference to the former designs:
Painter Hans has expressed the image of Death with so much art, that Death himself now seems a living being, and he by the glory of his work has made himself the compeer of the immortal gods.)
These verses read as though they were written to accompany the first edition of the “Dance of Death” woodcuts, but for some reason were never used. They are interesting, too, as containing the only contemporary reference to Holbein as the actual designer of the series. In the same edition occur the following lines:
which may be paraphrased as—“Whoever wishes to see the painter equal to Parrhasius or Zeuxis must call Hans Holbein from England and Georgius Reperdius from the French town of Lyon.” Reperdius was the Italian engraver Reverdino, about whom little is known, except that much of his engraved work was after Primaticcio. The latter was working at Fontainebleau at this period, and, if Bourbon is to be believed, Reperdius was settled in Lyon, where the poet probably met him when visiting that town for the purpose of making arrangements for the republishing of his Nugae.
For the second edition of the “Old Testament” illustrations, published in 1539, Bourbon furnished, as already noted,[159] a Latin poem in which Holbein, as the designer of the woodcuts, is compared with and placed above the greatest painters of antiquity. It describes a scene in Elysium, in which the three great Greek painters, Apelles, Zeuxis and Parrhasius appear:
159. See Vol. i. p. 227.
Apelles breaks forth into a lament over the eclipse of their fame brought about by Holbein, and exclaims:
The verses are too long for quotation. Bourbon has added to them a Greek distich, with its translation into Latin:
Vol. II., Plate 13
TITLE-PAGE OF COVERDALE’S BIBLE
1535
From a copy in the British Museum
No other portrait by Holbein can be definitely attributed to the year 1535. It was in this year that he lost two of his first English patrons, and both on the scaffold—Sir Thomas More and Bishop Fisher, and his distress must have been keen, more particularly over the death of the former, who had done so much for him when he first arrived in London, a practically unknown foreign painter, with no knowledge of the English language. One other work of his, however, the design for the title-page of Coverdale’s Bible, in the publication of which Thomas Cromwell was greatly interested, was issued in this year, and possibly it was he who placed the commission in Holbein’s hands. It is interesting to note that Holbein, who illustrated the first translations of the Bible into German in Switzerland, also supplied a design for its first complete rendering into English, which was published under the title of “Biblia. The Bible, that is, the holy Scripture of the Olde and New Testament, faithfully and truly translated out of Douche and Latyn in to Englishe, M.D.XXV.” This fine folio was printed in Zürich by Froschover, and no doubt Holbein’s title-page[160] (Pl. 13) was also cut abroad, for there was no one in England at that time capable of producing so excellent an engraving. The design is divided into six little pictures which surround the title. The one across the top contains the Fall and the Redemption; on the left Adam and Eve stand under the Tree, and on the right Christ rises from the tomb, triumphant over Death and Hell. On the left-hand side of the page Moses is shown on Mount Sinai receiving the Tables of the Law, and beneath him is a representation of Ezra reading the Old Law to the Jews on their return from the Captivity. On the opposite side, in the upper picture, Christ is sending forth His disciples into the world to preach the gospel, and in the lower Paul is seen preaching. In the panel across the bottom of the page Henry VIII is seated on his throne under a canopy, with a sword of state in one hand and a Bible in the other, which he presents to the high dignitaries of the Church and the nobles of his Court, who kneel below him. On either side within arched niches are the figures of King David playing the harp, and the Apostle Paul. The King is represented with a beard, which became the fashion in the year Coverdale’s Bible was published, but in facial likeness there is little resemblance to Henry, due, possibly, to the fact that the block was cut in Switzerland. The design, as a whole, is a particularly fine and effective one, and has not suffered to any great extent from the cutting, which is good, though not the handiwork of a Lützelburger. Certain of the figures are of great beauty, in particular those of the risen Christ, the Adam and Eve, and the Paul. The resemblance, in facial type and movements, between the figure of the Saviour sending forth His disciples to preach and the Christ in the “Noli me Tangere” picture at Hampton Court, has been already noted.[161]
160. Woltmann, 237. Reproduced by Woltmann, i. dedication; Davies, p. 192.
161. See Vol. i. p. 97.
The few designs which Holbein made for woodcuts while in England appear to have been all done at about this time, when the abuses of the Church were being attacked most severely and the monasteries were being swept away; though some of them were not actually published until some years later. In them Holbein, just as he had done in his woodcuts produced in Basel, in no way attempts to disguise his adherence to the reformed religion. This feeling was shown very strongly in a series of twenty-two small satirical drawings of the Passion which appear to have been preserved in a little book, now unfortunately lost. At one time it was in the possession of the Earl of Arundel, and was shown by him to Sandrart as a work of Holbein’s. The latter mentions it in his Teutsche Akademie, stating that each sheet was full of little figures of every kind, that of the Redeemer always appearing under the form of a monk attired in black. Sixteen of these designs were engraved in the seventeenth century, no doubt while in the Arundel collection, and most probably by Hollar, though they are unsigned and have not the customary “Ex Collec. Arundell:” beneath them. In them “the enemies of Christ are represented in the dress of monks and friars, and instead of weapons they bear croziers, large candlesticks, and other church ornaments; Judas appears as a capucin, Annas as a cardinal, and Caiaphas as a bishop. In the subject of Christ’s Descent to Hades the gates are hung with papal bulls and dispensations; above them are the Pope’s arms, and the devil as keeper of the gate wears a triple crown.”[162]
162. Chatto, Treatise on Wood Engraving, p. 378, note. Described more fully by Woltmann, i. 395-7. See also Walpole, Anecdotes, ed. Wornum, i. p. 98.
Woltmann describes a second title-page, very finely cut, which he considers to have been produced during Holbein’s sojourn in England. So far it has not been discovered in any published book, but there is a fine proof of it in the Munich Print Room. On either side stand St. Peter and St. Paul, the latter pointing upwards, two tall slender figures. They appear as pillars of the church, and are represented as supporting the blank title itself, which is in the form of a paper scroll. In an arch above is Christ risen from the Tomb, trampling upon Death and Satan, and below are the arms of Henry VIII supported by two heraldic beasts.[163]
163. Woltmann, 238.
Something of the same satirical feeling shown in the lost drawings of the Passion is to be seen in two or three small woodcuts of this period, which, from the inferiority of the cutting, were very probably produced in England. Two of them appeared among the twenty-six little cuts in Cranmer’s Catechism, a small octavo volume published in 1548, the full title being, “Catechismus, that is to say, a shorte instruction into Christian religion for the singular commoditie and profyte of childrē and yong people. Set forth by the mooste reverende father in God, Thomas Archbyshop of Canterbury, primate of all Englande and Metropolitane.—Gualterus Lynne excudebat, 1548.” The first of Holbein’s two small pictures (folio CL) represents the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican,[164] the scene taking place in a church, with the Pharisee as a monk, kneeling at an altar, whom Christ points out to His disciples, while the Publican stands with head bent in front of them. On the edge of a book on the altar steps are the initials “H. H.” The subject of the second cut (folio CCI) is Christ casting out the Devil from the possessed man,[165] which, in spite of the unsatisfactory cutting, is very dramatic and retains much of the beauty and individuality of Holbein’s design. The Pharisees and others who stand behind are represented as bishops, monks and priests. It is signed in full “HANS HOLBEN.” A third woodcut, very similar to these, but still more feeble in execution, represents Christ as the Good Shepherd,[166] surrounded by His disciples, and pointing to the “hired servant,” here again dressed as a monk, who is flying before the wolf which scatters his frightened flock. This also is signed in full “HANS HOLBEIN.” It appears in a small English pamphlet, “A lytle treatise after the manner of an Epystle, wryten by the famous clerk Doctor Vrbanus Regius,” which was also published by Walter Lynne, in the same year, 1548, as the Catechism.
164. Woltmann, 198. Reproduced by Chatto, p. 380; and in Hans Holbein (Great Engravers Series), ed. A. M. Hind.
165. Woltmann, 199. Reproduced by Woltmann, i. p. 391; Chatto, p. 381; Wornum, p. 191; and in Hans Holbein (Great Engravers Series), ed. A. M. Hind.
166. Woltmann, 200. Reproduced by Woltmann, i. p. 399.
A third, and more important, publication of 1548, Hall’s Chronicle, contains a large folio woodcut representing King Henry VIII in Council,[167] which Woltmann regarded as undoubtedly of Holbein’s design. The scene takes place in a magnificent chamber hung with tapestries, with the King, his legs apart in his characteristic attitude, seated on a throne beneath a baldachin bearing his arms. He is surrounded by his councillors, twenty-seven in number, some listening, others lost in thought, and others again whispering among themselves. The cutting is excellent, and was probably done in Switzerland. The socle with the framework enclosing the inscription “King Henry the eyght,” and the two supporting sirens, are almost identical with the socle and supports in the beautiful woodcut of Erasmus with the figure of Terminus already described. These, with the small portraits of Wyat and Bourbon, and the “Charitas” device for Reinhold Wolfe, constitute almost the whole of Holbein’s work as a book-illustrator while in England.
167. Woltmann, 210. Reproduced by Dibdin, Typographical Antiquities, vol. iii. It bears the engraver’s initials, “I. F.,” possibly Faber.
There are several undated portraits and studies for portraits which must have been produced between the years 1535 and 1537, among them the likeness of Sir Thomas Wyat, the famous poet and courtier, whose father, Sir Henry Wyat, had been painted by Holbein during his first English visit. Wyat was about the Court during the period under discussion; a few years later he was often absent from England on foreign embassies. There is a study for his portrait among the Windsor drawings (Pl. 14)[168] which is one of the finest in the collection, though considerably rubbed and stained, and also a good, possibly contemporary, copy.[169] He is represented nearly full-face, wearing a cap, and with a long flowing beard, both hair and beard being modelled with the brush. The portrait which must have been painted from this singularly attractive study is not now known to exist; a small painting in oils corresponding to the drawing, but not by Holbein, was exhibited by Mr. Bruce at the National Portrait Exhibition in 1866. A second portrait of Sir Thomas was drawn by Holbein at a somewhat later date, which was reproduced as a woodcut, shortly after the poet’s death, in the little book entitled Næniæ in Mortem Thomæ Viati Equitis Incomparabilis, written by John Leland, the antiquary, in honour of his memory, and published in 1542. The portrait,[170] which is a small roundel in the style of the circular portraits in wax or boxwood which were at that time much in vogue, may have been drawn by Holbein himself on the block. The engraving itself is somewhat crudely done, but was, no doubt, the best that could be procured at that time in London; yet in spite of its roughness the little portrait is a true likeness, full of character, such as no one in England but Holbein could have produced. Wyat is represented almost in profile to the right, with a long beard and a high bare forehead, bearing out Leland’s description in his panegyric that “nature had given the youth dark auburn hair, but this gradually disappeared and left him bald, but the thick forest of his flowing beard increased more and more.” The neck is bare, and bounded by a slight drapery in the classical manner, giving it the appearance of a medallion. Underneath the woodcut, which is printed on the reverse of the title, are the following lines in praise of both painter and poet:
168. Woltmann, 289; Wornum, i. 18; Holmes, i. 32. Reproduced by Knackfuss fig. 139, and elsewhere.
169. Woltmann, 290; Wornum, i. 40; Holmes, not numbered.
170. Woltmann, 209; reproduced by him, i. 364.
(Holbein, the greatest in the magnificent art of painting, has sketched this portrait, yet no Apelles can express in painting Wyat’s mind and happy genius.)
Vol. II., Plate 14
SIR THOMAS WYAT
Drawing in black and coloured chalks
Windsor Castle
The drawing, no doubt, was made by Holbein on purpose for the book, but whether it was an original study from memory, or was based on a portrait of Wyat he had painted some little time previously, is uncertain. Several circular oil paintings exist which are either founded upon the Næniæ woodcut, or are contemporary copies of a portrait by Holbein which cannot now be traced. The latter is the more probable supposition, as in all the paintings the head is turned to the left, whereas in the woodcut it faces to the right, not having been reversed when drawn on the block. One of these versions, formerly in the collection of the Marquis of Hastings, who lent it to the National Portrait Exhibition, 1866, is now in the National Portrait Gallery (No. 1035);[171] a second, apparently a copy from the former, is in the Bodleian Library at Oxford. This latter was in the Tudor Exhibition, 1890 (No. 169), the Oxford Exhibition of Historical Portraits, 1904 (No. 24), and the Burlington Fine Arts Club Exhibition, 1909 (No. 50). It is a bust, three-quarters to left, with dark hair, beard, and moustache, and bald forehead, red drapery round the shoulders, and a plain brown background; and is inscribed “SYR·THOMAS·WYAT.” A smaller circular portrait, also on an oak panel, belonging to the Countess of Romney, showing Wyat in the same position, but dressed in the costume of his day, with a black coat lined with white fur, is attributed to Lucas Cornelisz.[172] It is inscribed, “Sir Thomas Wiat. B.1503. D.1541. Lucas Cornelii,” but this is of a later period than the painting, and the date of Wyat’s death is given wrongly. The head is in the same position as in the Næniæ woodcut. On the back of this portrait was at one time another panel, which now hangs by it in Lady Romney’s collection, representing Wyat’s “Maze,” and painted as a record of an amusing incident in his diplomatic mission to Italy in 1527. In the centre of the maze is shown a falling centaur with the Pope’s triple crown on his head. There was a portrait of a Wyat in the Arundel collection (il ritratto del Cavaglier Wyat), but whether this was one of Sir Thomas, or the one of his father, now in the Louvre, is uncertain.