Portraits of Robert Cheseman—Thomas Cromwell—Lord Abergavenny—Charles de Solier, Sieur de Morette—The Earl of Arundel’s collection of pictures—Roundels of a man and his wife at Vienna—Portraits of members of the Poyntz family—Nicolas Bourbon—His verses in praise of Holbein—Design for the title-page of Coverdale’s Bible—Other woodcut designs produced in England—Hall’s Chronicle—Portraits of Sir Thomas Wyat—Margaret Wyat, Lady Lee—Sir Richard Southwell—Sir Thomas le Strange—Lady Vaux—Sir Nicholas Carew.

THERE is only one portrait by Holbein bearing the date 1533 which can be said with any certainty to represent an Englishman. This is the very beautiful one of Robert Cheseman, now in the Hague Gallery, which has been known for so long under the erroneous title of “Henry VIII’s Falconer” (Pl. 11).[104] It represents a man holding a much higher social position than that of a mere keeper of hawks. Henry’s falconers were paid at a rate which did not permit them to employ the services of the leading artist of the day should they wish—which is not at all probable—to have their portraits painted. Their wages, in fact, ranged between fifty and twenty shillings a month. Cheseman, in common with other gentlemen of that period, chose to be painted with his favourite hawk upon his wrist, for the same reason that the country squires of the eighteenth century were so often depicted with their favourite dogs. Another example of this habit is to be seen in the equally fine portrait by Holbein of an unknown man, also in the Hague Gallery, dated 1542, who is evidently a gentleman, and not a professional falconer.[105]

Robert Cheseman, of Dormanswell, near Norwood, in Middlesex, and Northcote, in Essex, was a man of wealth, and one of the leading commoners of the first-named county. He was born in 1485, son and heir of Edward Cheseman, Cofferer and Keeper of the Wardrobe to Henry VII, and succeeded to the family estates in 1517. His father is mentioned in a pardon granted on March 2nd, 1486,[106] “to Edward Cheseman of London, gentleman, of all fines, forfeitures, etc., due to the King or to Richard III, late, in deed and not of right, King of England,” which was granted him as one of the executors of the will of Thomas Windesore, Constable of Windsor Castle. There was also a William Cheseman, probably an uncle of Robert, who in 1485 and 1486 received grants of the offices of bailiff of the rapes of Lewes and of Braneburgh, and of Clerk of the Market of the town of Lewes, “in consideracion of the true and feithfulle service that our welbeloved servaunt and true liegeman William Cheseman hathe doone unto us, as well in the parties of beyonde the see, as at oure late victorious felde within this oure royaume.”[107]

On August 30th, 1523, Robert Cheseman was appointed Commissioner for Essex to collect the subsidy,[108] and in December 1528 was placed upon the commission of the peace for Middlesex. In 1530 he represented the same county on a commission “to make inquisition in different counties concerning the possessions held by Thomas Cardinal Archbishop of York (Wolsey) on 2 Dec. 15 Hen. VIII, when the Cardinal committed certain offences against the Crown for which he was attainted.”[109] During his life he served on a number of commissions for collecting tithes, subsidies, and the like, including one in 1533, the year in which he sat to Holbein. In 1536 his name appears among a list of people from whom money is due to the King by obligations,[110] while in the same year he supplied thirty men for the army against the Northern rebels, which proves him to have been a man of considerable substance.[111] He served on the Grand Jury at the trials of Sir Geoffrey Pole, Sir Edward Neville, and others, in 1538,[112] and of Thomas Culpeper and Francis Dereham for treason in connection with the trial of Queen Catherine Howard in 1541.[113] He was among the “squires” selected to welcome Anne of Cleves when she first landed in England, and was, in fact, one of some half-dozen men of position who represented Middlesex on all such public occasions. In 1543 he supplied ten footmen for the army going into Flanders “for the defence of the Emperor’s Low Countries,[114] and in the following year he himself appears to have gone with the English army into France, and it is noted against his name in the muster book that he had “10 footmen already beyond the seas.” He married Alice, daughter of Henry Dacres, of Mayfield, Staffordshire, a merchant-tailor and alderman of Fleet Street, London. She died on July 31st, 1547, and was buried at Norwood. His daughter and heir, Anne Cheseman, married Francis Chamberlayne.

The portrait of Cheseman is a half-length, facing the spectator, the head and eyes turned to the left. He wears a purplish red silk doublet, and a black cloak trimmed with fur, and the customary black cap. On his left hand, which is gloved, he carries a hooded hawk, with a bell on its claw, and with the other hand strokes its feathers. He is clean-shaven, and his long hair, which is beginning to turn grey, covers his ears. Across the plain blue background, which has turned green through the discoloration of the varnish, on either side of the sitter’s head, runs the inscription in Roman lettering:

The painting of the beautiful plumage of the bird is a most masterly piece of work, and the keen, piercing eyes and clean-cut face of its master are rendered with that unerring truth and wonderful insight which give Holbein his foremost place among the supreme painters of portraits.

This picture was seen by Sir Joshua Reynolds during his tour through Flanders and Holland in 1781, and in his diary he describes it as:—“A portrait by Holbein; admirable for its truth and precision and extremely well coloured. The blue flat ground which is behind the head gives a general effect of dryness to the picture: had the ground been varied, and made to harmonize more with the figure, this portrait might have stood in competition with the works of the best portrait painters.”[115] This accusation of a slight “dryness” is to some extent true of certain, though by no means all, of the portraits painted by Holbein in England, when compared with some of his earlier work done in Basel. It has been suggested that this may have been due to a growing habit, caused by the increasing demands made upon his time, of placing greater reliance on his preliminary chalk studies in painting a portrait, and thereby reducing the number of sittings given him by the actual model.[116]

An old copy of this portrait was lent to the Tudor Exhibition, 1890 (No. 173A), by the Rev. Charles Shepherd. The original picture was once in the royal collections of England. It was No. 8 on the list of objects of art which Queen Anne reclaimed from the Dutch States at the death of William III as having formed part of the collection belonging to the English royal house. Her claim was unsuccessful, and the picture remained in Holland. On the back of the panel are the letters W.E.H.P.L.C. and the seal of Johan Willem Friso, Prince of Orange-Nassau, in whose collection it was, and afterwards in that of William V. The second fine portrait of a man with a hawk in the Hague Gallery,[117] dated 1542, was another of the pictures claimed by Anne, and was No. 21 in her list. A third picture in the Hague, the beautiful portrait of a young woman[118] (No. 275), now considered to represent Holbein’s wife, has been already described. The Cheseman and the 1542 portrait were evidently taken over to Holland, with other paintings, by William III during one of his visits to the Hague.

A small round portrait on wood, in the collection of Frau L. Goldschmidt-Przibram in Brussels,[119] is dated 1533. According to both Woltmann and Zahn it is in a very damaged condition, but is a genuine work of Holbein. It represents a young man at half-length, facing the spectator, but with the head slightly turned to the left. He is clean-shaven, with bushy hair half hiding his ears, and wears the small flat black cap and costume of the German merchants of the Steelyard, and he was probably a member of that body. The right hand only is shown, holding a carnation. Across the plain background, on either side of the head, is inscribed “ANNO 1533.” The face is a very attractive one, and the portrait has for years been regarded as representing the painter himself. Dr. Woltmann so included it in his book, but it bears little resemblance to the genuine portraits of Holbein. It was previously in the Jäger, Gsell, and Fräulein Gabriele Przibram collections in Vienna.

During 1533, or in the first months of 1534, Holbein painted Thomas Cromwell. The future Earl of Essex and “viceregent of the King in all his ecclesiastical jurisdiction within the realm” was then only at the beginning of his political career, and filled the minor post of Master of the Jewel House. The portrait of him in the possession of the Earl of Caledon,[120] at Tyttenhanger Park, St. Albans, which is evidently the original of several versions still in existence, although it has suffered greatly in the course of time, must be regarded as a genuine work of Holbein’s brush. The face has undergone severe repainting, but in many of the details his hand can be clearly traced. On one of the papers on the table in front of the sitter is the following address: “To our trusty and right wellbiloved Counsailler Thomas Cromwell, Maister of or Jewelhouse,” which proves that it cannot have been painted later than the first months of 1534, for early in that year Cromwell was promoted to be First Secretary of State and Master of the Rolls. He must, therefore, have sat to Holbein at some date between the latter half of 1532 and the spring of 1534, having been appointed to the Jewel House on the 12th April 1532 in place of Robert Amadas, the jeweller. If done after his advancement, his higher titles would have been noted in the inscription.

It is very possible that Cromwell first made the acquaintance of Holbein through their common friends, the merchants of the Steelyard, with whom the future Lord Privy Seal was closely allied in more than one business transaction, more particularly in connection with the wool trade, of which the Hanse merchants then had a monopoly. He also made constant use of their services later on in his career for the collection of continental news, the forwarding of diets to various English ambassadors abroad, the translating of foreign letters, and so on.

Eustace Chapuys, the Spanish Ambassador in London, in reply to a query from his Imperial master as to the character of Henry’s new minister, sent, in November 1535, a short and amusing biographical sketch of his career, interesting as showing how Cromwell appeared in the eyes of a foreigner.

“The Secretary, Cromwell,” he wrote, “is the son of a poor farrier, who lived in a little village a league and a half from here (London), and is buried in the parish graveyard. His uncle, father of the cousin whom he has already made rich, was cook (cousinier) of the late archbishop of Canterbury. Cromwell was ill-behaved when young, and after an imprisonment was forced to leave the country. He went to Flanders, Rome, and elsewhere in Italy. When he returned he married the daughter of a shearman, and served in his house; he then became a solicitor. The cardinal of York, seeing his vigilance and diligence, his ability and promptitude, both in evil and good, took him into his service, and employed him principally in demolishing five or six good monasteries. At the Cardinal’s fall no one behaved better to him than Cromwell. After the Cardinal’s death Wallop attacked him with insults and threats, and for protection he procured an audience of the King, and promised to make him the richest king that ever was in England. The King immediately retained him on his Council, but told no one for four months. Now he stands above everyone but the Lady (Anne Boleyn), and everyone considers he has more credit with his master than Wolsey had—in whose time there were others who shared his credit, as Maistre Conton (Compton), the duke of Suffolk, and others, but now there is no one else who does anything. The Chancellor is only his minister. Cromwell would not accept the office hitherto, but it is thought that soon he will allow himself to be persuaded to take it. He speaks well in his own language, and tolerably in Latin, French and Italian; is hospitable, liberal both with his property and with gracious words, magnificent in his household and in building.”[121]

This is the man whom Holbein painted when he was merely Master of the Jewel House and Clerk of the Hanaper of Chancery. He is shown, in Lord Caledon’s picture, at half-length, seated in a high-backed wooden seat, his head and body turned to the left, looking towards a window, only a small part of which is seen, with a small table beneath it covered with a Turkish cloth, on which papers are placed. He is dressed in a black surcoat with a deep fur collar, and a black cap. He rests his left elbow on another table in front of him, and holds a paper in his left hand, on the first finger of which is a heavy signet ring. The right hand is not shown. He is clean-shaven, and his bushy hair almost covers his ears and falls on the back of his neck. On the table are pen and ink, a richly-bound book with jewelled clasps, and several papers, on one of which is the inscription already quoted. On a second paper the word “Counseilor” can be deciphered at the head. The face, with its small eyes set closely together, its thin, compressed lips and double chin, and its sinister expression of cold determination, is a far from attractive one, and lays bare that side of Cromwell’s character for which he was so heartily hated by the Catholic party. In it is to be seen little of that other side of him, of which, after his downfall, Cranmer spoke, when writing to Henry on behalf of his old minister. “Cromwell,” he said, “was such a servant in my judgment, in wisdom, diligence, faithfulness, and experience, as no prince in this realm ever had.” A large scroll stretching across the top of the picture, evidently added after Cromwell’s death, contains a Latin inscription in his praise. The portrait is on panel, 30 in. × 24 in.

A smaller portrait of Cromwell, a circular painting with a green background, and enclosed in a painted square stone frame, showing the head only, is described by Wornum and Woltmann.[122] It was at that time in the possession of Captain Ridgway, of Waterloo Place, London.[123] It is 12 in. square, and differs in some details from the Tyttenhanger portrait. Both writers appear to regard it as a genuine work by Holbein. A portrait of Cromwell was one of the few works mentioned by name by Van Mander when describing De Loo’s collection of Holbein’s works:—“the old Lord Crauwl, about a foot and a half high, taken unusually artistically by Holbein.” Although the dimensions do not quite agree, Woltmann suggests that Captain Ridgway’s little picture was the one thus described. According to Mr. Lionel Cust,[124] the few portraits of Cromwell which have any claim to authenticity are all traceable to Holbein, and fall into two groups, or at most three, each group deriving from an original portrait by him. In the first class are the Tyttenhanger picture and others based directly upon it. This portrait, he says, descends direct from Sir Thomas Pope, one of Cromwell’s instruments in the suppression of the monasteries. The second group includes such pictures as the one in the National Portrait Gallery (No. 1683, 16¾ in. × 13 in.),[125] purchased in 1897, of which there are several versions in existence, though there is no portrait of this type so far traced which can be attributed to Holbein himself. The pictures in this group show the head and shoulders only, and differ in minor details from the Tyttenhanger type. The look of craftiness is accentuated, and he is shown with a slight grey whisker, and the pointed arch of the eyebrows is more strongly marked. The third group, which is closely allied to the second, includes the recently-discovered miniature in the late Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan’s collection,[126] and the medal in the British Museum, of the date 1538, which, according to Mr. Cust, is evidently based on a drawing by Holbein.[127] There was a portrait of Cromwell in the Arundel collection, which is entered in the inventory as “ritratto de Cromwell.” This was evidently the one in the possession of De Loo, which afterwards passed, with other works by Holbein, from that dealer’s collection into that of the Earl. Hollar’s engraving,[128] which is not signed or dated, does not appear to have been taken from the portrait at Tyttenhanger, but was most probably based upon the Arundel picture; but whether that picture was an original by Holbein, now lost, or one of the numerous versions now in existence, it is impossible to say. One of these versions is in the collection of M. Ch. Léon Cardon, Brussels.

Several portraits of Cromwell were included in the Tudor Exhibition, 1890, wrongly attributed to Holbein. Among them was a bust portrait, to the right, with a jewel in the cap, and the Garter George suspended from a black ribbon, lent by the Duke of Sutherland (No. 39, 20 in. × 17 in.); a small half-length, to the left, wearing both collar and George of the Garter, from Corpus Christi College, Cambridge (No. 160, 22½ in. × 17 in.); and versions of the Tyttenhanger picture lent by Mr. Charles Penruddocke (No. 162, 18 in. × 16 in.), and the Duke of Manchester (No. 163, 14 in. × 11½ in.).[129] In addition to the Hollar print, engravings were made, from one or other of the copies of the original picture, by Houbraken for his Heads of Illustrious Persons, 1745, from a picture in the possession of Mr. Edward Southwell, and by Freeman for Lodge’s Portraits, 1835, the latter from a picture in the possession of Sir Thomas Constable, Bt., at Tixall. Probably both engravings were done from the same painting.

There is a magnificent drawing, one of the most powerful studies Holbein ever accomplished, in the collection of the Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery at Wilton House,[130] which until recently has been generally regarded as a portrait of the Lord Privy Seal—though it bears little likeness to the Tyttenhanger panel—because the words “Lord Cromwell” and “Holbein” have been inscribed in the bottom corners by a later hand than the painter’s. It is in black and red chalk on paper tinted pink, with slight touches of colour on the fur of the gown and the jewel in the cap. The outlines of the features have been reinforced in ink, but this, in contradistinction to some of the drawings in the Windsor collection, where such retouching is evidently from a later hand, has been carried out with such power combined with delicacy that it seems certain that it was done by Holbein himself. The drawing evidently at one time formed part of the Windsor series, at the date when the latter was given by Charles I to an earlier Earl of Pembroke in exchange for the little “St. George” by Raphael, which is now in the Hermitage. This book of drawings was afterwards given by Pembroke to the Earl of Arundel, and it is most probable that the so-called “Cromwell” drawing remained behind, perhaps by accident. Quite recently it has been definitely identified as the portrait of George Nevill, third Lord Abergavenny, by means of a miniature in the possession of the Duke of Buccleuch, in water-colours, on a playing card, which is based on Holbein’s drawing, and is inscribed “G. Abergaveny.”[131] It bears a very strong likeness to the drawing, and is attributed to Holbein himself. Further proof of identity is obtained from a picture, which agrees with the miniature but does not show the hands, in the collection of the Marquis of Abergavenny at Edridge Castle, Kent. Both the Wilton drawing and the miniature were included in the Burlington Fine Arts Club Exhibition, 1909 (No. 70 and Case C. No. 22), and the former was in the Tudor Exhibition, 1890 (No. 1414).

Singularly few examples remain of work executed by Holbein in 1534 and 1535. There are no dated portraits from his brush of the former year, with the exception of the two small roundels in Vienna, and none of the latter year, for the date on the beautiful miniature of little Henry Brandon at Windsor, usually given as 1535, has been misread.[132] There are one or two portraits which must have been done during this period, among them the Morette, the drawing of Nicolas Bourbon, and a portrait of Nicholas Poyns the younger; but there are so few examples which can be definitely given to these two years that the writer hazards the conjecture that for a part of the time Holbein was out of England. Throughout his too short career the painter seems never to have severed his connection with Basel, nor to have broken the friendly relationships which existed between him and its Council. He remained a citizen of his adopted city, and apparently retained his membership of the Painters’ Guild, until his death. To do so he must have paid some heed to the somewhat strict laws as to the duties of citizenship then in force. The customary leave of absence was about two years, and Holbein may well have returned to Basel more often than is generally supposed. He did not accede to the Council’s request contained in their letter of September 2nd, 1532, but at the end of two years, in the summer of 1534, he may possibly have paid a visit of some duration to Switzerland, returning to England in the summer or autumn of 1535. This is only conjecture, for there is no evidence of his presence in Basel during that period, but it would account for the lack of English portraits of that date, and would also help to explain the fact—in some ways inexplicable—that he did not enter the service of the royal house of England until about 1536. Against this assumption it must be noted that when he paid his well-known visit to Basel in September 1538 he was feasted and fêted by his fellow-citizens in a way which seems to indicate that he had been absent for a longer period than three years. Still, it is not impossible that he was there in 1534-5, and that he even paid a final visit home, about the winter of 1540-41, before his death in 1543, in this way retaining until the end his citizenship and the pension paid by the Basel authorities to his wife.

The wonderful portrait of Morette in the Dresden Gallery (Pl. 12)[133] must certainly have been painted during the period under discussion. Charles de Solier, Sieur de Morette, a well-known French diplomatist and fighting man of his day, who had paid more than one earlier visit to England, in each case of short duration, arrived in London as French resident ambassador in place of Castillon, on Good Friday, April 3rd, 1534, and returned to France on July 26th, 1535. This was his last and longest sojourn in this country, and Holbein must have painted him between these two dates. Even though the painter may have paid a visit to Basel as suggested, it would still leave ample time for the portrait to have been taken in the summer of either year. Probably Holbein’s introduction to Morette was brought about through the good offices of Jean de Dinteville. Though the Bailly of Troyes had left England in the previous November, Morette may have seen the “Ambassadors” picture in France in the interval, or have heard of it from Castillon, who succeeded Dinteville in London. In any case, Morette, who was one of the special ambassadors who came over for the signing of the treaty in the spring of 1528, was acquainted with at least one work of Holbein, the “Battle of Spurs,” in the temporary banqueting-hall at Greenwich, to which the King had drawn the particular notice of the envoys.

The first known reference to the portrait of Morette occurs in the correspondence of Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel and Surrey, the great collector of Holbein’s work, who employed friends and agents on the Continent to hunt up and buy everything from his brush that they could discover. He got together a remarkably fine series of pictures and drawings by Holbein, which, on his death at Padua, 1646, came into the possession of his widow, then residing in Holland. Upon her decease in 1654, at Amsterdam, her youngest son, Lord Stafford, who was living with her, propounded a nuncupative will in his own favour, and began as quickly as he could to sell the pictures, which it had been the intention of the Earl should become heirlooms, but the deed had never been executed. The sale, however, was stopped by other representatives of the Arundel family, and a lawsuit resulted. Among the documents in connection with these proceedings was one of very great interest, an inventory of the pictures and objects of art in the possession of the Countess at the time of her death. The original list, which was in Italian, and probably drawn up for the Earl in Padua, has disappeared, but a copy of it has been recently discovered by Miss Mary L. Cox in the Record Office. This valuable document was evidently copied from the original by some clerk in Amsterdam ignorant of the Italian language, for it is full of mistakes. The complete inventory was published by Miss Cox, with an introduction by Mr. Lionel Cust, in the Burlington Magazine.[134] From it we learn that Lord Arundel possessed no less than forty-one works by or attributed to Holbein, in addition to the drawings, which are not included in the inventory. Among the portraits, some of which have been already noted, were those of the Duchess of Milan, Jane Seymour, Anne of Cleves, Edward VI, the Duke of Norfolk and his son the Earl of Surrey, Sir Thomas Wyat, Cromwell, Erasmus, the Earl of Southampton, Thomas and John Godsalve, Sir Edward Gage, Sir Henry and Lady Guldeford, Archbishop Warham, Dr. John Chamber, Derich Born, and Sir Thomas More and his family, as well as several unnamed portraits, to all of which reference will be found in these pages. Very possibly some few of these pictures, such as the full-length of the Earl of Surrey, were not by Holbein, though given to him in the list. Lord Arundel also possessed several works which so far have not been traced, though the titles may help towards their future rediscovery. Among them is a portrait said to be of Holbein’s wife, which is most probably the picture at the Hague;[135] one of a lady “con gli mani giunti e un agato atacato al beretino”; another of a lady, aged 40, with the inscription, “In all things, Lord, thy wilbe fulfilled”; the portrait of a musician;[136] one of an armed man, which may possibly be the portrait of Sir Nicholas Carew; the portrait of the goldsmith Hans of Zürich; the Death’s-head and bones already referred to in speaking of Ambrosius Holbein; a picture of gamblers or people playing games (“un quadretto con divers figure Jocatori, &c.”); another with the title “Legge Vecchio & Nove” (ancient and modern law); and the Arms of England in water-colours. Before his relations could interfere Lord Stafford had sold a number of pictures to the Spanish Ambassador in London, to Eberhard Jabach, of Cologne, and to the agent of the Archduke Leopold, and this may account for the fact that certain of them remained abroad, such as the Jane Seymour and Dr. Chamber in Vienna, and the Thomas and John Godsalve in Dresden.

In a letter from Turin, dated November 26th, 1628, from Sir Isaac Wake to William Boswell, the former states: “The picture after which you do seem to inquire was made by Hans Holbein in the time of Henry VIII, and is of a Count of Moretta. My Lord of Arundel doth desire it, and if I can get it at any reasonable price he must and shall have it.”[137] The picture was evidently then in the market, under the true names of both sitter and painter, but apparently the price was too high, and so Arundel, who possessed the original drawing for it, was not able to secure it. It was eventually bought by the Marquis Massimiliano Montecucculi, ambassador of the house of Este at Parma and Rome, and presented by him to the Duke Francesco d’Este, and so passed into the Modena gallery. According to Venturi, the portrait was at that time attributed by the Marquis Montecucculi to “Gio. Olben.” Some thirty years after the date of Wake’s letter, Scannelli, in his Microcosmo,[138] describes, under the name of “Olbeno,” a picture in the Modena collection which can be no other than the “Morette.” He says: “There was also lately among ultramontane painters a certain Olbeno, a highly qualified master, and in painting individual portraits verily stupendous. It is true in his execution there is something of that native hardness which belongs to his country in other respects; yet through his extreme diligence and truthful fidelity to nature it shows a high degree of perfection. As we see, for example, in the already noticed gallery of H.S.H. the Duke of Modena, where there is a half-length portrait by him which in its exact imitation of nature is quite wonderful.”

At a later date the true name of the sitter appears to have become lost. It has been suggested[139] that, owing to the similarity of the sound, the name Morette was first changed to Morus, as the name of Sir Thomas More would naturally suggest itself in connection with Holbein. In Italy, Morus, again naturally, would become Moro, and so in course of time the picture was said to represent Lodovico Sforza, familiarly known as Il Moro. There is no need, however, to bring in the name of Sir Thomas More at all. The change must have been directly from Morette to Maurus, which was Sforza’s second name, from which his popular nickname “Il Moro” was taken.[140] Holbein’s name in connection with the picture having been by this time forgotten, the title “Maurus,” combined with the beauty of the work, gave rise to the supposition that it could only be from the hand of Sforza’s great countryman, Leonardo da Vinci; and it was as a portrait of Il Moro by Leonardo that it was purchased by Augustus III, King of Poland and Elector of Saxony, from the Duke Francesco of Este-Modena in 1746. It formed part of a collection of about one hundred pictures, known as the “Modena Gallery,” some of which are now among the chief masterpieces of the Dresden Gallery, which, after long and secret negotiations, the Elector procured for his own collection at the cost of one hundred thousand sequins and very liberal largesse to various agents and go-betweens. For the next hundred years it remained at Dresden as a portrait of Lodovico and a masterpiece by Da Vinci. Then Rumohr, the critic, pointed out that the style and quality of the painting proved it to be an undoubted work by Holbein, while at the same time Von Quandt produced evidence to show that it did not represent Il Moro, but a certain jeweller employed by Henry VIII named Hubert Morett. The paper he contributed to the Kunstblatt in 1846 was accompanied by a reproduction of Hollar’s engraving of the original drawing of the picture, upon which his case was based. This engraving is inscribed “Mr. Morett” and “W. Hollar fecit, ex Collectione Arundeliana. Ao 1647. 31 Decē.” In spite of Rumohr’s criticism, however, the picture continued to be described in the official catalogues as by Leonardo, the authorities, it is said, objecting to the change of name, as in so doing the collection would be robbed of its sole work by Da Vinci; and it was not until the death of King Frederick Augustus that Holbein was allowed to come into his own again. There was considerable opposition, too, to the change from Il Moro to Mr. Morett, the goldsmith, Hollar’s engraving being a poor one, and not very much like the picture. The title was not changed, nor was the final restitution made to Holbein until 1860, in which year Holbein’s original drawing for the portrait made its appearance in London, in the sale of Samuel Woodburne, the art dealer, when it fetched £43, and was purchased immediately afterwards for the Saxon Government by Herr L. Gruner, the director of the Dresden Gallery.[141] For the next twenty-five years the picture was known as “Mr. Hubert Morett, goldsmith to Henry VIII,” who was considered by all writers to be an Englishman, his sumptuous apparel, quite unlike the sober garments worn by jewellers in those days, being explained away by a reference to the tradition that in the sixteenth century all Englishmen, of whatever class of society, had a passion for finery in dress.