Space does not permit even a brief reference to further erroneous inferences which Mr. Dickes draws from other parts of the picture, all of which were fully and finally dealt with by Sir Sidney Colvin in a review of the book.[96] Mr. Dickes by no means strengthens his case by reproducing a number of portraits, selected from various European galleries, in which he sees likenesses to his two heroes, though they bear but the faintest resemblance either to genuine portraits of the Counts Palatine or to the sitters in the “Ambassadors” picture.[97]

The book, in spite of the false theory on which it is based, displays much careful if misplaced research, and as, for this reason, it is apt to mislead those who have made no serious study of Holbein’s work, its arguments have been briefly dealt with here. Mr. Dickes, however, is not alone in refusing to accept Jean de Dinteville and George de Selve as the two ambassadors. Mrs. G. Fortescue, in her book on the painter,[98] holds that both Miss Hervey and Mr. Dickes are wrong; but she brings forward no names to take the place of those she condemns, and merely suggests, somewhat mysteriously, that later on she will produce facts which will provide the correct solution.

Turning again to the picture itself, it is evident that the accessories, with which the table is crowded, both from their unusual number and character, were not collected at haphazard merely to afford an opportunity for displaying Holbein’s skill in depicting minutiæ, but that they represent the tastes and learned pursuits of the two sitters, and were selected and arranged by Dinteville himself. The prevailing love of allegory and symbolism, of the emblem or “devise,” which was a marked characteristic of that age, is apparent in many of the picture’s details, in some of them to be read plainly, in others so obscurely that it is now impossible to explain them satisfactorily. Miss Hervey has described them with care, and has elucidated much of their meaning and purpose. The appearance of the Death’s-head twice over in the picture—in the hat-medal worn by Dinteville and in the distorted skull in the foreground—seems to indicate that the ambassador had adopted it as his personal badge or devise. The picture, indeed, in its general arrangement bears considerable likeness to the woodcut in the “Dance of Death” series known as “The Arms of Death” (“Die Wappen des Todes”), as was first pointed out by Mr. Wornum.[99] This suggests the possibility that Dinteville had been shown, perhaps by Holbein himself, a proof set of the “Dance of Death” woodcuts, and that he had been greatly impressed by them. He suffered much from ill-health while in England, which may have had something to do with his choice of a device of so gloomy a nature.

Certain of the instruments depicted are apparently set to indicate various dates, such as the birthdays of the sitters or important events in their lives, as pointed out by Mr. Dickes. The same instruments, together with the other objects, also represent certain of the Seven Liberal Arts—Music, Arithmetic, Geometry and Astronomy. The terrestrial globe is copied from Johann Schöner’s globe of 1523, to which about twenty names of towns have been added by Holbein, chiefly in France and Spain, selected by Dinteville as an epitome of the foreign relations of France in shaping which he had taken some share, the most important of these additions, as elucidating the identity of the chief sitter, being, of course, Polisy. The Lutheran hymn-book and the crucifix may be taken as symbolical of France’s religious diplomacy and the opinions of the two friends. The hope of religious union between the Roman Catholic and the Reformed Churches played a large part in the life of the Bishop of Lavaur. “To find means to promote that end was the object of his most earnest thought; to see it accomplished, the dearest wish of his heart.”[100] Dinteville, too, belonged to the liberal Catholic party in France, and shared the Bishop’s views. Mr. Barclay Squire first pointed out that the hymn-book in the picture was painted from a copy of Johann Walther’s Geystliche Gesangbüchlein, published at Wittemberg in 1524. The German arithmetic book was copied from a manual, The Merchant’s Arithmetic Book, by Peter Apian, published at Ingoldstadt in 1527. The badge of the order of St. Michael is worn by Dinteville without the collar of scallop-shells, and merely suspended from his neck by a gold chain. This was in accordance with the rules of the Order, which permitted it to be so worn when under arms, or when travelling, hunting, or when at home in private, or in other places where there was no company. Other details of the picture are equally interesting, more particularly the elaborate mosaic pavement, which Miss Hervey discovered to be an accurate copy of the well-known paved floor in the Sanctuary of Westminster Abbey, for the construction of which marbles and workmen were brought from Italy by Abbot Richard Ware in the reign of Henry III. This interesting discovery affords additional proof that the “Ambassadors” was painted in England.

The picture, which in point of size and in the elaboration of its many details is the most important work by Holbein remaining in England, is a brilliant example of the painter’s technical abilities, though as a composition it is less successful than certain other less ambitious portraits from his brush. The accessories, on account of their number, variety, and brilliance of execution, and the central position given to them—so that the two figures have something of the appearance of the supporters to a coat of arms, as in some of Holbein’s designs for glass—to some extent distract the attention from the ambassadors themselves. Dinteville appears to have selected them with great care, and evidently attached great importance to them and the meanings they were intended to convey; while the painter carried out his wishes so admirably that they remain to-day almost as important a part of the picture as they did in the opinion of the man for whom the work was painted. The distorted skull, in particular, which at once catches the eye, however entertaining or clever a rebus or emblematic puzzle the Bailly may have thought it, holds far too prominent a position in the composition for the painting to be regarded as a picture in the highest sense of the word. It is, nevertheless, a work possessing very great qualities, and, in many respects, must be placed in the forefront of Holbein’s achievement. The faces of the two men are finely and delicately modelled, though their character is not quite so subtly expressed as in such a portrait as that of the “Duchess of Milan.” The dark, penetrating eyes and well-chiselled mouth of Dinteville give vitality to his intellectual face, in which can be traced some indications of the delicate constitution which was so ill suited to the climate of England. De Selve is grave in contrast, with dark eyebrows and a more pallid complexion, and his countenance has less expression and vitality than is to be found in that of his companion. It has been suggested that this contrast between the two figures is so great that it indicates the fact proved by Dinteville’s letter, that the future Bishop’s stay in this country was of limited duration, and that his portrait was probably not completed from life.

In concluding this account of Dinteville’s connection with Holbein reference must be made to a portrait in the possession of Sir John Ramsden, Bt., of Bulstrode Park, Buckingham, recently published and described for the first time by Dr. Ganz in the Burlington Magazine,[101] which represents a man with a book of music and a lute (Pl. 10). This “Portrait of a Musician” he regards as an undoubted likeness of the Bailly of Troyes from Holbein’s brush. He describes it as follows: “The man is sitting behind a table, and holds in his right hand a roll of paper, in the left a guitar. Two books in red bindings with green ribbons are placed, one open, one closed, on the red tablecloth, and this group of colours forms the contrast to the green curtain of the background. The cap and the black coat with large facings and white shirt-ruffles hanging down are decorated with golden buttags of a longish form, after the French fashion of the time. The blue eyes, looking with a sharp and cold glance, give the impression of a man of great reflection and prudence; and the beautiful, carefully tended hands belong to a gentleman of the Court.... Round the neck he wears a small golden chain and a black silk ribbon, to which is attached an object of a very singular form, executed in gold and embellished with precious stones. This cannot be a simple jewel, intended merely to hang on the gold chain, but it seems to be a kind of whistle used in place of a tuning-fork.”[102] This portrait is said to represent Lord Vaux of Harrowden, from its supposed resemblance to the two drawings by Holbein of that personage at Windsor, but Dr. Ganz holds that it bears a much closer resemblance to Dinteville as he is shown in the “Ambassadors,” and still more so to the drawing found by Miss Hervey at Chantilly. He considers that the longer beard indicates that it was painted two years later than the National Gallery picture. “The technical execution,” he says, “confirms a later date of origin; the blending of the colours and the brilliancy are in the well-preserved parts like the finest enamel. The right hand, which has a smooth appearance, is retouched; but the extraordinary quality of Holbein’s art in modelling the flesh without any contrast is to be found in the face and in the execution of the left hand. His attention was not limited to creating a portrait with the exactness of a looking-glass; he tried to give the man in his intimacy by obtaining a spacious effect. He placed the figure between two objects and painted the shadows in their real values.” While admitting that the likeness between this Musician and Dinteville is a strong one, the present writer is of opinion that the picture at Bulstrode Park does not represent the French ambassador. As already pointed out,[103] Dinteville’s subsequent visits to England were all short ones, of only a few weeks’ duration, during which time there would be little opportunity for sitting for his portrait, nor is it very probable that he would want a second likeness of himself so shortly after the big work was finished. Little is known of the history of Sir John Ramsden’s picture, but it is probably the ritratto d’un Musico of the Arundel inventory. It is said to have been purchased in 1860 from a sale in Scotland. Either this picture, or a replica of it, was in the Ralph Bernal sale, 1855, when it was sold to Mr. Morant for one hundred guineas. It was described in the sale catalogue as: “Portrait of Nicholas, Lord Vaux, the poet and musician, in a black dress and cap, seated at a table, an open book before him, he holds a viol de gambe in his left hand, green drapery behind, 17½ × 17, a most beautiful portrait of the highest interest.”