Chapter XVI: The Merchants of the Steelyard (1)

The German Steelyard in London, and Holbein’s connection with its
members—Portraits of Georg Gisze—Hans of Antwerp—The Wedighs—Derich
Born—Derich Tybis—Cyriacus Fallen—Derich Berck—“The Triumph of
Riches”—“The Triumph of Poverty”—Triumphal arch designed by Holbein
for the Steelyard on the occasion of Queen Anne Boleyn’s coronation.

THERE is no record to show in what part of London Holbein took up his residence upon his return to England. Possibly he may have settled in the house in the parish of St. Andrew Undershaft, in Aldgate Ward, in which he was residing in 1541; or there may be some truth in the tradition recorded by Walpole[1] that he lived for a time in a house on London Bridge, in close proximity to the Steelyard, where he was much occupied in painting various members of that colony of German merchants for the next year or two. There is nothing to indicate that he returned to Chelsea, for the purpose of finishing the More family picture, or that he received further commissions from Sir Thomas and his immediate circle of friends. During Holbein’s absence in Basel More had been made Lord Chancellor, but had resigned that office on May 16th, 1532, which was about the time of Holbein’s return to London. More, a generous man, had not amassed wealth in the public service, and on relinquishing office and the salary it carried with it, retired into private life on a modest income, not sufficient to permit a lavish patronage of art. Two other members of the More circle, and good friends to Holbein, Sir Henry Guldeford, and Archbishop Warham, died in the same year, the former in May and the latter in August, and thus the painter lost two other patrons immediately after his return. A certain John Wolf was the painter employed to provide the escutcheons, banners, and other decorations for Guldeford’s funeral.[2]

Footnote 1:

_Anecdotes_, &c., ed. Wornum, 1888, vol. i. 86, note.

Footnote 2:

_C.L.P._, v. 1064.

Whether Holbein’s appearance amid entirely new surroundings was due to these events is doubtful. It is natural to suppose that he would turn instinctively towards a society of fellow-countrymen, speaking the same language, and of similar habits and modes of thought, with whom he would feel most at home, men of comfortable fortunes, well able to afford the luxury of sitting for their portraits, and with the means also of finding him other remunerative work.

These merchants of the Hanseatic League in London formed a rich corporation of considerable numerical strength, whose beginnings went back to the very early days of English history. Some of its most valuable privileges and trading monopolies were granted it by Richard I and Edward III, in return for moneys lent, monopolies which hampered English trade for centuries afterwards. This colony had always occupied a part of the river bank above London Bridge, on the site of what is now the South-Eastern Railway Station in Cannon Street.[3] Their buildings were surrounded by a turreted wall, which stretched from the river northward to Thames Street, and from Allhallows Street on the east to Cosin (Cousins) Lane on the west, their property extending towards Dowgate. Entrance in the principal front in Thames Street was by three fortified gateways, above which the Imperial double-eagle floated, and within stood their old stone Guildhall, with a pleasant garden planted on one side with fruit trees and vines after the fashion of their fatherland, and, to the west of the main gate, vaults where Rhenish wine and other foreign delicacies were sold, a favourite place of resort for English citizens as well as foreigners. It has been generally supposed that its name, the Steelyard, or _Stahlhof_, arose from the great weighing-machine or steelyard which stood within its entrance.[4] The Guildhall and Council Chamber were situated in the western corner on Thames Street, and several passages, including Windgoose Alley, ran from that street to the river, giving access to the shops and small houses, the latter usually consisting of a bedroom and sitting-room for the merchant, and, at the back, stores and apartments for clerks and workmen. The corporation was a close one, and the rules by which its members were bound were as strict as those of a monastery. Within its precincts women were strictly forbidden; all married members had to live outside the walls, nor were guests allowed to lodge there unless also of the Hanseatic community. Each night at nine the gates were shut, and the Steelyard was then like a small walled German town in the midst of London. The breaking of its laws, or the practice of any bad habits, was followed by severe punishment. Its members, too, were obliged to take their share in the wider civic life of London. The Steelyard was represented by an Alderman and a Deputy, and, among other duties, each merchant had his allotted post in case of war, and was obliged to keep the necessary arms ready for the defence of the city.

Footnote 3:

The buildings of the Steelyard were finally pulled down in the autumn
of 1863, and the ground was excavated immediately afterwards. The
Cannon Street Railway Station covers approximately the whole site of
the Steelyard except the strip on the north front cut off for the
widening of Upper Thames Street. See Philip Norman, “Notes on the
Later History of the Steelyard in London,” _Archæologia_, vol. lxi.
pt. ii. (1909), pp. 389-426; Wykeham Archer, _Once a Week_, vol. v.
(1861); J. E. Price, _Transactions of the London and Middlesex
Archæological Society_, vol. iii. 67 (1870). See also for the whole
history of the Steelyard, Lappenberg, _Urkundliche Geschichte des
Hansischen Stahlhofes zu London_, Hamburg, 1851.

Footnote 4:

Dr. Norman, however, considers that it has nothing to do with a
weighing-machine, but that it is an Anglicised form of the German
“Stahlhof.” See his paper in _Archæologia_, quoted on the preceding
page.

Their privileges were so great that they had always been unpopular, and this dislike grew in strength until the reign of Henry VIII, when the first attempts were made to break up their monopolies, which ended, some sixty years later, in their complete overthrow. When Holbein first came among them, however, they still occupied the foremost place in the commercial life of London, and were an exceedingly rich and prosperous community. They served the King and Court in more ways than one, for they were constantly made use of for the despatch of letters abroad and for the translation of communications received from foreign countries. They made arrangements with their agents in Europe for the payment of the diets and other expenses of Henry’s ambassadors and special messengers, and much confidential continental news was received through their business houses. Books, prints, and various rare and artistic objects were also forwarded to them for delivery to the English court. Thomas Cromwell, in particular, made much use of them in the sending and receiving of foreign correspondence. They also entertained all important visitors, artists, craftsmen, and others of their own countrymen who visited England.

Holbein, however, does not appear to have come into contact with them during his first visit to England; no portrait, at least, of a Steelyard merchant of that date has survived, though he painted Niklaus Kratzer, who must have known many of them intimately. Possibly his introduction to them in 1532 was due to his friendship with the German astronomer. In any case, between 1532 and 1536, he painted a considerable number of them, chiefly small half-length portraits, in which the sitter is shown in his own room or office, dressed in sober black, with the accessories of his work scattered round him, and with letters in front of him containing his name and his address at the Steelyard. These portraits were most probably painted for presentation by the sitters to the League of which they were leading members, to be hung on the walls of the Council Chamber of their Guildhall, rather than for the purpose of sending them to family relations abroad. This would account for the presence of several of them in England to-day, for when the Guild was finally broken up in 1598 and much of its property scattered far and wide, some of the portraits remained in this country while others found their way abroad.

VOL. II., PLATE 1
GEORG GISZE
KAISER FRIEDRICH MUSEUM, BERLIN
]

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF GEORG GISZE]

The portrait of Georg Gisze, now in the Berlin Museum (No. 586) (Pl. 1),[5] was one of the first, if not the first, of these likenesses of Steelyard merchants to be painted by Holbein. This portrait is not only the most elaborate work of the whole series, but the sitter was also one of the most important members of the League then in London. His name is spelt in more than one way on the picture itself, and other versions of it are to be found in the English State Papers. In the letter from his brother, which he holds in his hand, he is addressed, according to the Berlin Catalogue, as Jerg Gisze. The full address is “Dem erszamen Jergen Gisze to lunden in engelant mynen broder to handen.” Below the motto on the wall, beneath the shelf on the left—“Nulla sine merore voluptas”—in the sitter’s own handwriting, is the signature G. Gisze or Gyze. It has been read both ways, for the second letter may be taken either as an _i_ followed by a long _s_, or, as two connected strokes representing the letter _y_. On other letters from foreign correspondents, tucked behind the wall-rails on the right, his name is also spelt Gisse and Ghisse, while in the distich inscribed on a cartellino fastened to the wall over his head it appears in its Latinised form of Gysen. This distich, which also contains the date and the sitter’s age, runs as follows:—

Footnote 5:

Woltmann, 115. Reproduced by Davies, p. 140; Knackfuss, fig. 117;
Berlin Catg., p. 176; Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 95; and in colour by the
Medici Society.

“Δισυχι`ον ĭ Jmaginē Georgii Gysenii
Jsta refert vultus, qua cernis Jmago Georgi
Sic oculos viuos, sic habet ille Genas.
Anno ætatis suæ xxxiiij
Anno dom 1532.”

In days when spelling was largely phonetic it is not surprising to find proper names spelt in a variety of ways, and the Hanse merchants, in particular, received letters from correspondents in all parts of the world, speaking a variety of languages and dialects. According to the Berlin Catalogue, Georg Gisze was born on 2nd April 1497, so that he was of Holbein’s own age, and died in February 1562, and was a member of a leading Danzig family. Woltmann regarded him as a Swiss, and states that there was a family called Gysin settled in the neighbourhood of Basel, and that the name is still to be seen on numerous sign-boards in the adjacent small town of Liestall.[6] Miss Hervey, on the other hand, suggests that, however the name may be spelt, it was probably a variation of that of Gueiss, which was one of the most distinguished in the annals of the Steelyard.[7] The family belonged to Cologne, and Albert von Gueiss was a representative of the Steelyard at the Conference held at Bruges in 1520. In at least one entry in the Steelyard records this name is spelt Gisse. She suggests, therefore, that Georg Gisze may have been a younger brother or a son of this Albert von Gueiss. In his book on Holbein’s “Ambassadors” picture, Mr. W. F. Dickes, who, in his anxiety to prove that Holbein was not in England in 1532, conveniently ignores the evidence of the letter which Gisze holds in his hand, addressed to him “in London,” conclusive proof that the portrait was produced in this country, is of opinion that it was painted in Basel.[8] Little is known of its history since it left the walls of the Guildhall in Thames Street. It was in the Orleans Collection in 1727, and was purchased at the sale of that collection by Christian von Mechel.[9] Various attempts to induce the Basel Library to buy it proved unavailing. It was afterwards for a time in Basel, and in 1821 was added to the Solly Collection, passing later into the Berlin Gallery.

Footnote 6:

Woltmann, i. 366.

Footnote 7:

_Holbein’s Ambassadors_, p. 240.

Footnote 8:

_Holbein’s “Ambassadors” Unriddled_, p. 2.

Footnote 9:

See Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 240. It was brought to England with the
Orleans pictures in 1792, and in the Sale-Catalogue was described as
“Portrait of Gysset.” It fetched 60 guineas. See Waagen, _Treasures_,
&c., Vol. ii. p. 500.

The first time the name of Georg Gisze occurs in the English State Papers is in 1522,[10] when he was twenty-four years of age. The paper is an English translation of a protection, dated Lyon, 26 June 1522, granted by Francis I to Gerrard van Werden, George Hasse, Henry Melman, Geo. Gyse, Geo. Strowse, Elard Smetyng, Hans Colynbrowgh, and Perpoynt Deovanter, merchants of the Hanse, during the war between him, the Emperor, and England. They are forbidden to deal in wheat, salt, “ollrons,” harness, and weapons of war. Deovanter appears to have been one of the leading merchants. At this period he went as a representative of the Steelyard on several missions to Francis for the purpose of the recovery of goods taken from their ships by the Captain of Boulogne. During his absence he gave power of attorney in a suit of his against George Byrom, of Salford, to several friends and fellow-merchants, among them “George Guyse,” and, it is interesting to note, “Th. Crumwell, of London, gent.”[11]

Footnote 10:

_C.L.P._, vol. iii. pt. ii. 2350.

Footnote 11:

_C.L.P._, vol. iii. pt. ii. 2446, 2447, 2754.

The next reference to Gisze is at Michaelmas, 1533, in a letter from Thomas Houth to the Earl of Kildare in Ireland,[12] respecting the death of a certain John Wolff, in which, speaking of some bills, he says,—“I ascertained at the Steelyard that the handwriting was his, by the evidence of Geo. Gyes, the alderman’s deputy, and others.” This letter proves that Gisze held an important position in the Steelyard, as Deputy to the Alderman, who was probably Barthold Beckman, of Hamburg.[13] Possibly his appointment to this position occasioned the painting of his portrait.

Footnote 12:

_C.L.P._, vol. vi. 1170.

Footnote 13:

Lappenberg, _Urkundliche Geschichte des Hansischen Stahlhofes zu
London_, p. 157; Miss Hervey, _Holbein’s Ambassadors_, p. 239.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF GEORG GISZE]

The portrait is life-size, and half-length, the sitter being turned to the right, the face towards the spectator, and the eyes turned slightly to the left. He is wearing a flat black cap over his fair hair, which is cut straight across the forehead and covers the ears; and a dress of rose-coloured silk with a sleeveless overcoat of black, and a fine white linen shirt. He is seated behind a table covered with a cloth of Eastern design, and is in the act of opening his brother’s letter. By him, on the table, stands a tall vase of Venetian glass with twisted handles, filled with carnations, and scattered in front of him are various objects used in his business, a seal, inkstand, scissors, quill pens, a leather case with metal bands and clasps, and a box containing money. From the shelves on the walls hang scales for weighing gold, a seal attached to a long chain, and a metal ball for string, with a damascened design and a band with the words “HEER EN” repeated round it.[14] Books and a box are upon the shelves, and tucked within the narrow wooden bars which run round the walls are parchment tags for seals and several letters with addresses in High German. On these occur the dates 1528 and 1531, while the names of the correspondents with which they are endorsed can be more or less clearly discerned, as well as the word “England.” Woltmann reads the names as “Tomas Bandz,” “Jergen ze Basel,” and “Hans Stolten.” This last letter is marked with the writer’s particular device, which also occurs on a second letter, and is very similar to the device on the letter in the picture of Derich Tybis in Vienna. The walls of his room are painted in greyish green, the paint shown as rubbed and discoloured here and there, and along the bars and shelves, which have been worn by constant use.

Footnote 14:

In the inventory of the goods of John Wolff, attached to the letter
mentioned above, a similar ball is included—“a round ball gilt for
sealing thread to hang out of to seal withal.” _C.L.P._, vol. vi.
1170.

The painting of the numerous details is wonderful in its accurate realism, showing the closest observation and an evident delight in their perfect rendering. It has been suggested, as the picture contains many more accessories than in his other portraits of members of the Steelyard, that Holbein took particular pains with it as the first of a possible series, and that it was a kind of “show-piece,” in order that his clients might see of what he was capable. This superb portrait, which is in a better state of preservation than most of Holbein’s existing works, is finer in its clear, luminous colour and more delicate in its drawing than any other of his pictures of this period. It is almost Flemish in the minuteness and care of its finish and in its cool, clear tones. All the objects of still-life which surround the sitter, which are placed about him as naturally as though the artist had come upon him suddenly when engaged upon his daily business, and had there and then painted him, without arranging or posing, whether of silk, or linen, or gold, or steel, or glass, are painted with a fidelity to nature never excelled by the Dutchmen or Flemings of the following century, who devoted their whole career to the rendering of still-life. In Holbein’s portrait, however, all these carefully-wrought minor details, beautiful in themselves as they may be, in no way force themselves on the attention to the detriment of the portrait itself, which stands out as a vivid representation of the sitter’s personality, in which the essentials of his character have been seen with an unerring eye, and set down upon the panel with an unerring hand. We get here the young German merchant to the very life, precise, deliberate and orderly in the transaction of his affairs, with strongly-marked German features, long nose, and determined chin, a living presentment which only a master could have produced.

Ruskin’s glowing description of the picture is well known, but it is so true and so eloquent that a sentence from it may be quoted:—

“Every accessory is perfect with a fine perfection; the
carnations in the glass by his side; the ball of gold, chased
with blue enamel, suspended on the wall; the books, the
steelyard, the papers on the table, the seal ring with its
quartered bearings—all intensely there, and there in beauty of
which no one could have dreamed that even flowers or gold were
capable, far less parchment or steel. But every change of
shade is felt, every rich and rubied line of petal followed,
every subdued gleam in the soft blue of the enamel and bending
of the gold touched with a hand whose patience of regard
creates rather than paints. The jewel itself was not so
precious as the rays of enduring light which form it, beneath
that errorless hand. The man himself what he was—not more; but
to all conceivable proof of sight, in all aspect of life or
thought—not less. He sits alone in his accustomed room, his
common work laid out before him; he is conscious of no
presence, assumes no dignity, bears no sudden or superficial
look of care or interest, lives only as he lived—but for ever.
It is inexhaustible. Every detail of it wins, retains, rewards
the attention with a continually increasing sense of
wonderfulness. It is also wholly true. So far as it reaches,
it contains the absolute facts of colour, form, and character,
rendered with an unaccusable faithfulness.”[15]

Footnote 15:

Ruskin, “Sir Joshua and Holbein,” _Cornhill Magazine_, March 1860;
reprinted in _On the Old Road_, vol. i. pt. i. pp. 221-236.

VOL. II., PLATE 2
HANS OF ANTWERP
1532
WINDSOR CASTLE
]

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF HANS OF ANTWERP]

The portrait of Hans of Antwerp, in Windsor Castle (Pl. 2),[16] belongs to the summer of the same year, 1532, and was one of the earliest of the Steelyard series. It is in oil on panel, and has darkened with age, and has suffered to some extent from repaintings. It represents the half-length figure of a middle-aged man, about three-quarters the size of life. He is turned to the right, seated at a table, upon which his elbows rest, and he is about to cut the string of a letter with a long knife. He has thick bushy hair and beard, brown in colour, and brown eyes, and is wearing a dark overcoat, which may have been originally dark green in colour, edged with a broad band of brown fur, and beneath it a brown dress and a white shirt with the collar embroidered with black Spanish work. On his head is a flat black cap. The table is covered with a dark green cloth, and upon it, in front of him, are placed a pad of paper with a quill pen resting on it, some coins and a seal engraved with the letter W. The head, strongly lightened, stands out against a background of grey-brown wall, with a strip of darker colour on the right-hand side of the panel. He wears a signet ring on the first finger of his left hand, and a smaller ring on the little finger of the right.

Footnote 16:

Woltmann, 265. Reproduced by Law, _Holbein’s Pictures at Windsor
Castle_, Pl. ii.; Davies, p. 30; Knackfuss, fig. 119; Cust, _Royal
Collection of Paintings, Windsor Castle_, 1906, Pl. 46; Ganz,
_Holbein_, p. 96.

The letter which he holds in his hand has a superscription in crabbed Teutonic writing, which Woltmann, after careful examination, deciphered as follows:—

“_Dem ersamen H[a]nnsen
Von Anwerpen ... lo [....] vpn
Stallhoff zv h[anden]._”

The parts in brackets are hidden in the original by the knife, and have been added conjecturally by him, so that the whole inscription would run in English: “To the honourable Hans of Antwerp in London, in the Steelyard, these to hand.” The words “ersamen” and “Stallhoff” are distinct, but the “Anwerpen” is less clear, and only the first letter of the Christian name is certain.

The brown under-dress the sitter is wearing certainly has some appearance of the leather apron worn by goldsmiths which Woltmann declared it to be;[17] and this, together with the gold coins on the table, such as goldsmiths were in the habit of exhibiting in their shops, he regarded as additional proof that the portrait represents the goldsmith, Hans of Antwerp, Holbein’s close friend and one of his executors.[18] There is considerable probability that this ascription is correct, though it is by no means absolutely certain. On the paper-pad lying on the table there is an inscription, evidently in the sitter’s handwriting, giving his age and the date. Even this inscription is not absolutely clear. Woltmann reads it:—

Footnote 17:

Woltmann, i. p. 368. An under-dress of similar fashion, however, is
worn by nearly all Holbein’s Steelyard sitters.

Footnote 18:

It should be noted, however, that similar coins appear in the box on
the table in the portrait of Georg Gisze.

“Anno dm. 1532 an. d. 26 Julii
Ætatis suæ ...”

The second “A.D.,” however, is evidently wrong. Mr. Law[19] reads it as a possible “Aug.” for August, and is doubtful about the word “Julii.” Both these writers fail to decipher the sitter’s age, but it appears to be “53,” or, perhaps, “33,” the latter agreeing better with the apparent age of the sitter.

Footnote 19:

Law, _Holbein’s Pictures_, &c., p. 5.

The W. on the seal affords some evidence against the portrait being that of John of Antwerp. Woltmann calls it “the device of his trading house,” and in this Mr. Law follows him. It is much more probable, however, that it is the initial of his surname. The seal is of a similar shape to those in the portraits of Georg Gisze and Derich Tybis. In the former the lettering is illegible, but in the latter it is plainly “D. T.” Before Hans of Antwerp’s surname was known, Woltmann’s suggestion was not out of place, but Mr. Lionel Cust[20] has recently discovered it to have been Van der Gow, which does not accord with the letter on the seal. Among the numerous references to John of Antwerp in the State Papers and elsewhere he is never once spoken of as belonging to the Steelyard, whereas the picture in question is in all probability a portrait of some merchant of the Hanseatic League. More than one German merchant of the Steelyard whose surname began with W is mentioned in the records, such as Gerard van Werden and Ulric Wise, while one of the leading jewellers of Henry’s reign was Morgan Wolf, though he was almost certainly a Welshman. However, until further evidence is forthcoming, the name Hans of Antwerp must stand as the sitter for this portrait, and it has much in its favour.

Footnote 20:

_Burlington Magazine_, vol. viii. No. XXXV. (Feb. 1906), pp. 356-60.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF HANS OF ANTWERP]

As the friend and witness and administrator of Holbein’s will, the question of the true portrait of John of Antwerp is of unusual interest. The two men appear to have been closely associated, and there is no doubt that Holbein supplied him with designs. One such design is well known—the drawing for a beautiful drinking-cup in the Basel Gallery upon which is inscribed the name “Hans Von Ant....” (Pl. 42).[21] Mr. Lionel Cust conjectures that the cup given by Cromwell to the King on New Year’s Day, 1539, made by John of Antwerp, was this identical cup; but it hardly appears probable that an object made for such a purpose would have the maker’s name placed upon it so prominently on a broad band running round its centre. It may be suggested that it is more likely to have been intended by the maker for presentation to the Hanseatic League to form part of the corporation plate of that body kept in the Guildhall of the Steelyard.

Footnote 21:

Woltmann, 110 (104). See p. 275.

John of Antwerp’s name occurs frequently in the private accounts of Thomas Cromwell for the years 1537-39, and Mr. Lionel Cust has gathered together much interesting information about him. In a letter from Cromwell to the Goldsmiths’ Company we learn that he had been settled in London since 1515, but the first reference to him Mr. Cust finds is in March 1537, in the Privy Purse Expenses of the Princess Mary, which runs: “Item payed for goldsmythes workes for my ladies grace to John of Andwarpe iiij _li_, xvij _s_, vij _d_.” There is, however, an earlier reference, and one of considerable interest, in the State Papers, in a letter from one Richard Cavendish to the Duke of Suffolk, dated Norton, 5th June 1534, which shows that John Van Andwerp was at that time employed with a certain Hans De Fromont in searching for a gold mine at Norton. “They are,” says Cavendish, “applying themselves with diligence to find the mine. Here is the greatest diversity of earth and stones, for the stones in the gravel in most places appear to be very gold. Many assays have been made to prove it, but nothing found as yet, and it is believed the glitter ‘is but the scum of the metal which groweth beneath the ground.’ They have now begun to dig pits to get at the principal vein. The people are as glad as ever he saw to further the matter, for in old evidences the place is called Golden Norton, which proves that gold may be found there. He sees no great forwardness as yet, but prays God they may find some.”[22]

Footnote 22:

_C.L.P._, vol. vii. 800.

Cromwell employed him in a number of ways. In December 1537[23] he received 15_s._ for setting a great ruby, and 29_s._ for the gold in the ring. In November 1538[24] he was at work on the cup already mentioned for a New Year’s Gift to Henry, for which purpose he received 52 oz. of gold, and was paid nearly £20. Other work during these years consisted in making a George, setting stones in rings, making chains and trenchers, and repairing various Georges, Garters, and other jewellery belonging to the Lord Privy Seal, full details of which will be found in Mr. Cust’s paper, the last entry being dated 15th December 1539.[25]

Footnote 23:

_C.L.P._, vol. xiv. pt. ii. 782, ii. (p. 333).

Footnote 24:

_C.L.P._, vol. xiv. pt. ii. 782, ii. (p. 338).

Footnote 25:

_Ibid._, under various dates.

An entry in the Book of Payments of the Treasurer of the Chamber for April 1539[26] shows him in another capacity, one, as already noted, in which the foreign traders in England were frequently employed by the Court. He received one shilling from the King’s purse for forwarding letters of importance to Christopher Mount and Thomas Panell, “his gracis servauntes and oratours in Jarmayne.”[27]

Footnote 26:

_C.L.P._, vol. xiv. pt. ii. 781 (p. 309).

Footnote 27:

Mr. Cust suggests that this message was addressed to Holbein. He says:
“At Lady Day, 1539, he (Holbein) seems to have been still absent (in
Basel), though he was back in England before Midsummer.” (_Burlington
Magazine_, February 1906, p. 359.) This, however, is not probable.
Holbein was certainly back from Basel by December 1538, when he
received £10 for his journey to Upper Burgundy, and he presented a
portrait of Prince Edward to the King on New Year’s Day, 1539. He
received no salary on Lady Day, 1539, because he had already received
a year’s wages in advance at Midsummer, 1538, to date from the
previous Lady Day, and not because he was out of England. At this
period messages and money were being constantly sent to Christopher
Mount, who was much abroad on missions to the German Protestant
princes, and the question of the marriage with Cleves was only one of
the many affairs, and one of the least important, upon which he was
then engaged.

In 1537 Hans of Antwerp’s name occurs in the return for Subsidies of Aliens in England, among foreigners dwelling in the parish of St. Nicholas Acon, as “John Andwarpe, straunger, xxx _li._, xxx _s._” In a similar list for the same parish in 1541 he is given for the first time his proper name: “John Vander Gow, _alias_ John Andwerp, in goodes, xxx _li._, xxx _s._” Mr. Cust suggests that his name may have been Van der Goes. This assessment of his goods at £30 and the tax on it of thirty shillings was the customary rate for foreigners. Nicholas Lyzarde, Elizabeth’s serjeant-painter,[28] was assessed to the same amount—but Holbein was taxed at the higher rate of £3 on his salary of £30, as it was the custom to tax “lands, fees and annuities” at double the rate of goods.

Footnote 28:

See p. 309.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF HANS OF ANTWERP]

In April of the same year Van der Gow was anxious to obtain the freedom of the Goldsmiths’ Company as a step towards being admitted to the right of citizenship in London. Cromwell’s letter, recommending him to the Company “most hartely,” states that he had already lived twenty-six years in London, had married an Englishwoman, by whom he had many children, and purposed continuing in London for the rest of his life. This desire to become a naturalised Englishman might be taken as some evidence that he was not a member of the Steelyard confraternity.

From the register of the church of St. Nicholas Acon, in Lombard Street, where the goldsmiths have always congregated, we learn that he had a son, Augustine Anwarpe, baptized on 27th November 1542, and a second son, Roger, on 10th December 1547; that on three successive days in September 1543 three of his servants, John Ducheman, Jane, his maid, and Richard, were buried; that a fourth servant was buried on the 10th August 1548; and that his son Augustine was buried on 1st July 1550.[29] There can be little doubt that the three servants died of the plague which was raging in London in September 1543. Holbein was almost certainly another of its victims, and Mr. Cust suggests that he may very probably have caught the infection in John Van der Gow’s house.

Footnote 29:

These facts are taken from Mr. Cust’s paper.

The portrait, it is to be supposed, like Holbein’s other representations of Steelyard merchants, was very possibly presented to the Guild, and would remain hanging in their Guildhall until they were expelled by Elizabeth in 1598. “When in 1606,” says Woltmann, quoting from Lappenberg, “under James I, the Steelyard was given back to its possessors, the rooms were found in an evil condition, and all movables, such as tables, seats, bedsteads, and even panels and glass windows, were almost entirely stolen. That under such circumstances a sparing hand watched over the pictures is scarcely to be expected.”[30] The portrait of Hans of Antwerp, whatever its earlier adventures may have been, was in the collection of Charles I, in which it was No. 29, and is described in his catalogue as: “Done by Holbein. _Item._ Upon a cracked board, the picture of a merchant, in a black cap and habit having a letter with a knife in his hand cutting the seal thread of the letter; a seal lying by on a green table; bought by Sir Harry Vane and given to the King.” The crack in the panel is still plainly visible. It was valued by the Commonwealth Commissioners at £100, and sold for that sum. It reappears, however, in James II’s catalogue, No. 499: “By Holbein. A man’s head, in a black cap, with a letter and penknife in his hand.” It is possible that it is the picture by “Holbin” of “a Dutchman sealing a letter,” which was in the Duke of Buckingham’s collection at York House in 1635,[31] from which it may have passed into that of Charles I. The picture, though it has not the richness and transparency of colour of the “Gisze,” or its extreme delicacy of execution and luxuriance of detail, is a vigorous and life-like representation of a somewhat stolid German, painted with the truth and sincerity which Holbein brought to everything he touched.

Footnote 30:

Woltmann, i. p. 381. See also Norman, _Archæologia_, vol. lxi. pt. ii.
p. 394.

Footnote 31:

See Randall Davies, “Inventory of the Duke of Buckingham’s Pictures,”
&c., _Burlington Magazine_, March 1907, p. 382.

[Sidenote: PORTRAITS OF TWO OF THE WEDIGHS]

The two small roundels, which hitherto have always been regarded as likenesses of Holbein himself, undoubtedly represent, as Dr. Ganz has recently pointed out, the same individual as the sitter in the Windsor picture, who, until his identity is finally settled, it is most convenient to call Hans of Antwerp. The first is the beautiful little painting on oak in the Salting collection,[32] in which the sitter is shown in full-face, with a flat black cap, a gown lined with light-coloured fur, and a dark under-coat or vest, cut straight across the top, as in most of Holbein’s other Steelyard portraits. The left hand only is shown, with a ring on the first finger. On the background on either side of the head is the faded inscription “ETATIS SVÆ 35.” It was possibly painted a year or two later than the Windsor portrait, to which the likeness is very marked. If, however, the sitter really represents Hans of Antwerp, and he was painted a second time by Holbein about 1534-5, when 35 years of age, he must have been only a boy when he settled in London in 1515. The second roundel is in Lord Spencer’s collection at Althorp,[33] and this, too, has always been regarded as a portrait of Holbein by himself. Here again the likeness to the Windsor picture is a strong one, though the opposite side of the face is seen, as he is shown in three-quarters profile to the spectator’s left. There are slight variations in the dress, the undervest being lower, and disclosing more of the white shirt. Some critics regard it as a genuine work by Holbein, but Dr. Ganz places it among the doubtful and wrongly-attributed pictures. He suggests that it is probably one of the two roundels considered to be self-portraits by Holbein which C. van Mander saw in Amsterdam in 1604, and was engraved by A. Stock as such in 1612 and published by H. Hondius. There is a replica of it in the Provinzial Museum in Hanover.[34] All three works evidently represent the same man, and at about the same age.

Footnote 32:

Exhibited Burlington Fine Arts Club, 1909, Case D, No. 1, and
reproduced in the Catalogue, Pl. xxxiv.; also by Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
114.

Footnote 33:

Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 226.

Footnote 34:

See Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 253.

In the same year, 1532, he painted another goldsmith, Hans von Zürich, but the picture has disappeared, and is now only known from the engraving Hollar made of it in 1647, when it was in the Arundel collection. In the engraving he is shown at half-length, full-face, the body turned slightly to the left, and is a thin man, with a pleasant expression. It is inscribed on the top: “Hans von Zürch, Goltshmidt. Hans Holbein, 1532,” and below, “W. Hollar fecit, 1647, ex collectione Arundeliana,” and has a dedication by the publisher, H. Vander Borcht, to Matthäus Merian.[35] The date indicates that Hans von Zürich must have been living in London at that time, though his name does not occur in the State Papers.

Footnote 35:

Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 197 (i.). Parthey, No. 1411.

One other portrait of a German merchant by Holbein was painted in the year 1532.[36] It is in the collection of Count von Schönborn in Vienna, and is one of a pair of portraits of brothers or near relations, members of the Wedigh family of Cologne.[37] They hung together until 1865, in which year the finer one of the two, dated 1533, was acquired by Herr B. Suermondt, of Aix-la-Chapelle, and is now in the Berlin Gallery, having been purchased in 1874, together with another fine portrait by Holbein of an unknown young man, from the Suermondt collection. The close relationship of the two sitters is proved by the exactly similar coat of arms on the enamelled ring each one is wearing. In the first edition of his book Woltmann gave it as his opinion that they were Englishmen, but afterwards came to the conclusion that both portraits represented German Steelyard merchants. The belief that they were Englishmen was afterwards strengthened by a communication to the Berlin authorities from Privy Councillor Dielitz, who, from the coat of arms on the rings, held that the pictures represented two members of the English family of Trelawney. This ascription, however, has been proved to be wrong, and it may be pointed out that the motto inscribed on the paper projecting from the book in the Vienna portrait,—“Veritas odium parit” (“Truth brings hatred”), is not the present motto of the Trelawney family. On the side of the same book, painted on the edges of the leaves, are the letters “H E R. W I D.,” and more recent research has established the fact that the two men were members of the Wedigh family. Members of this patrician family of Cologne had been connected with the London Steelyard since 1480. In this connection it is interesting to note that the seal in the so-called “Hans of Antwerp” picture is engraved with the letter “W,” which suggests some possibility that he, too, may have been a Wedigh.

Footnote 36:

Woltmann, 262. Reproduced by Knackfuss, fig. 118; Ganz, _Holbein_, p.
97.

Footnote 37:

Both portraits are mentioned in an inventory of 1746.

The 1532 picture in the Schönborn collection is a small half-length. The subject, who is seated at the back of a table, is turned to the right, with head almost full-front and looking at the spectator. His right arm rests on the table, and he holds his gloves in his left hand. His hair, cut straight across his forehead, covers his ears, and he is clean-shaven. He is wearing the usual dark overcoat with deep fur collar, and an inner collar or lining of lighter fur, opened sufficiently to show a part of his embroidered under-dress, the sleeves of which are of watered or patterned silk, and a white pleated shirt gathered round the neck in a small frill. The customary flat black cap is on his head. On the table to the left is a leather-bound book with two clasps, with the artist’s initials on the cover, and a piece of paper projecting from between the leaves on which is written the Latin motto already quoted. On the plain blue background is inscribed on either side of the head, “ANNO. 1532.” and “ÆTATIS.SVÆ. 29.” It is a sympathetic and simple rendering of a young man of serious expression, in which both the beardless face, of a somewhat reddish complexion, and the two hands are very finely painted. Woltmann conjectured that the Latin motto indicated that the book on the table might be one of those writings which the German reformers were at that time busily engaged in smuggling into England, the secret dissemination of which neither Wolsey or More could stay, in spite of the drastic methods they employed to stamp it out. Although possessing many privileges, the men of the Steelyard were by no means free from persecutions of this nature.

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF HERMANN WEDIGH]

The companion picture, in the Berlin Gallery (No. 586B) (Pl. 3), represents Hermann Hillebrandt Wedigh.[38] Like that of his brother, it is a small half-length. He stands directly facing the spectator, the left hand holding his buff-coloured gloves, and the right half hidden by the heavy dark-brown cloak, with black velvet collar and velvet at the wrists, the folds of which are finely arranged and painted. This cloak lacks the customary fur collar. The white shirt, partly open and showing the bare chest beneath, is tied in the front by long strings passed through a white button, and the embroidered collar is almost hidden by his beard. A flat black cap is on his head, of the type worn by all the Steelyard merchants in Holbein’s portraits. The hair, beard, and long moustache are fair, the separate hairs being indicated with almost microscopic care. The eyes are brown, the left one being decidedly smaller than the right, and there is a corresponding difference in the development of the two sides of the face. There are no accessories of any kind, and upon the plain blue background, on either side of the head, is inscribed, in gold letters: “ANNO. 1533.” and “ÆTATIS SVÆ. 39.” The gold ring is enamelled in red, white and black, and in the circle round the coat of arms there are some letters now undecipherable. This is one of the finest and most sympathetic portraits ever painted by Holbein. The face, in spite of its slight irregularity, is one of great charm and much sweetness of expression. The drawing of the hands and mouth is particularly fine.[39]

Footnote 38:

Woltmann, 116. Reproduced by Dickes, p. 79; Knackfuss, fig. 121; Ganz,
_Holbein_, p. 98; and in colour in _Early German Painters_, folio v.

Footnote 39:

Mr. Dickes, who does not hesitate to suggest that a date has been
tampered with if it suits his argument to do so, regards this picture
as “an unmistakable portrait of the second person” in the
“Ambassadors” picture, such person being, in his opinion Philipp,
Count Palatine. This picture, he says, “has a damaged date, catalogued
as 1533, and a more clear “ætatis 34,” which is no doubt correct, for
the moustache shows five years’ more growth” (_i.e._ than in the
“Ambassadors”). “No one who compares the two faces can doubt the
identity, or that if of Philipp—born November 12, 1503, as indicated
in our picture—its correct date is 1538.” It requires a very vivid
imagination to see a likeness between Wedigh and the portrait of the
Bishop of Lavaur in the National Gallery group; but Mr. Dickes sees
Philipp and Otto Henry in so many portraits scattered about Europe,
having but the faintest resemblance to one another, and gives to
Holbein so many pictures he never painted, and takes from him at least
one of his finest works (the Morette in Dresden, which he calls Otto
Henry and attributes to Amberger) that his attribution with regard to
the Wedigh portrait is not worth serious consideration. The date upon
it is plainly enough 1533. At the time he was writing his book the age
of the sitter appeared to be “34,” but recent cleaning shows it to be
“39.” (Dickes, _Holbein’s “Ambassadors” Unriddled_, p. 81.)

Three other portraits of Steelyard merchants bear the date 1533: Derich Born at Windsor, Derich Tybis at Vienna, and Cyriacus Fallen at Brunswick. The portrait of Derich Born (Pl. 4 (1)),[40] in the royal collection at Windsor Castle, painted when he was twenty-three, is, after the “Gisze” and “Hermann Wedigh” portraits, perhaps the most attractive of the Steelyard series. It is slightly under life-size, the figure shown nearly to the waist, turned to the right, and the head, upon which the light falls strongly from above on the right, nearly in full-face. His right elbow rests on a stone ledge or parapet which runs across the picture, the left hand placed across the right wrist, and a gold signet-ring with a coat of arms on his forefinger. He wears a flat black cap, black silk dress, and a white shirt with a collar of so-called Spanish work of black silk thread, very delicately painted. He is beardless, and has chestnut-brown hair, cut straight across the forehead and hiding the ears in the customary fashion.

Footnote 40:

Woltmann, 266. Reproduced by Law, Pl. 3; Davies, p. 154; Ganz,
_Holbein_, p. 100; Cust, _Royal Collection of Paintings, Windsor
Castle_, 1906, No. 45.

On the flat stonework below the ledge on which his arm rests is inscribed, in large Roman letters as though cut in the stone, the following Latin couplet:

“Derichvs si vocem addas ipsissimvs hic sit
Hvnc dvbites pictor fecerit an genitor.”

(“If you were to add a voice this would be Derich, his very
self; and you would doubt whether a painter or a parent had
produced him.”)

Below this runs, in slightly smaller letters of the same type:

“DER. BORN ETATIS SVÆ 23 ANNO 1533.”

The background is of a dark greenish blue against which stand out some branches and leaves of a vine or fig tree. It is painted in cool and delicate tones, with flesh tints of a pale brown, in which it bears a close resemblance to the portrait of Georg Gisze. It is marked, too, by the same simplicity and restraint, and air of quiet and dignified repose, and searching truth and insight in the rendering of what must have been a very attractive nature, qualities which make Holbein’s portraiture so great.

VOL. II., PLATE 3
HERMANN HILLEBRANDT WEDIG
KAISER FRIEDRICH MUSEUM, BERLIN
]

* * * * *

VOL. II., PLATE 4A
DERICH BORN
1533
WINDSOR CASTLE
]

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF DERICH BORN]

This is the only one of several portraits of the series without letters or papers bearing the name and address of the sitter which can be said with absolute certainty to represent one of the London Steelyard merchants. Mr. W. F. Dickes suggests that it represents the eldest son and successor of Theodorichus de Born, the printer, of Deventer and Nimeguen, who issued the Netherland New Testament in 1532, and he quotes a reference to a Theodorichus de Born de Novimagio acting as Secretary to the Faculty of Arts at Cologne University, and also to a Derichus de Born who had a licence to preach. “Remembering,” he says, “that Erasmus spent his schooldays at Deventer, and that Holbein owed to him several of his introductions, I think my suggestion deserves to be considered. At any rate, there is no necessity to assume, as is done without a tittle of evidence, that this young scholar was a member of the Stahlhof! Nor does the presence of this portrait at Windsor prove that it was painted in England.”[41]

Footnote 41:

Dickes, _Holbein_, &c., p. 6.

Mr. Dickes, whose chief object is to prove, for the purposes of his theory about the “Ambassadors,” that none of these Steelyard portraits was painted in England, starts by misquoting the inscription on the picture, which he gives as “Derichus si vocem addas de Born,” an extraordinary mixing of the first and third lines. There is no “de Born” in it, it is distinctly “Der. Born,” and though the young man depicted may have been a member of Theodorichus de Born’s family, as he suggests, he was certainly a member of the Steelyard, and known in London as Derich Born. In the Calendars of Letters and Papers, under the heading of “Ordnance,” a paper is printed which gives a list of “payments made by Erasmus Kyrkenar, the King’s armourer, by his Majesty’s command, from 15th Sept, to 13th Oct. 28 Hen. VIII” (1536), for wages of armourers, and the providing of armour, harness, &c., in connection with the Rebellion in the North. Among the items included in his account is the following:

“For various bundles of harness bought of Mr. Locke, merchant of London, and of _Dyrycke Borne, merchant of the Steelyard_,” &c.[42] This, though it does not actually prove him to have been in London in 1533, shows that he was most certainly here three years later as a member of the Steelyard. Evidence of his presence in London in the years 1542-49 is to be found in the _Inventare hansischer Archive des 16. Jahrhunderts, I_, quoted by Dr. Ganz,[43] who states that he was a merchant of Cologne.

Footnote 42:

_C.L.P._, vol. xi. 686.

Footnote 43:

_Holbein_, p. 240.

The picture is on oak, 1 ft. 11½ in. high by 1 ft. 7¼ in. wide. It was at one time in the Arundel collection, and is entered in the 1655 inventory as “Derichius a Born.” It is possible that the earl owned more than one of the Steelyard portraits, for there are two entries of portraits of men with black birettas. On the back is the brand of Charles I, “C.R.” crowned, though it is not described in his catalogue. There is a second portrait of Derich Born by Holbein, a small oval of about 3 in. high (9 × 8 mm.), on paper, in the Alte Pinakothek at Munich, giving the head and shoulders only.[44] It is painted in oil on paper, and has suffered somewhat from retouching, but is still an excellent example of the small portraits in oil on wood or paper, usually enclosed in a case of wood or ivory, which Holbein was fond of painting at this period, closely akin to his true miniatures of a rather later date. In the Munich version the position is reversed, the sitter being turned to the right, and the face not quite so fully to the front. The workmanship, more particularly of the collar, is as fine as in the larger Windsor portrait. His name and age and the date are given, but the last figures and letters have been cut away, probably when fitting it into the frame, so that all that is left of the inscription on the background, on either side of the head, now reads:

Footnote 44:

Woltmann, 220. Reproduced by Ganz, _Holbein_, p. 147.

“DEBOR . . . .
TATIS SVÆ . .
M. D. XXX . . .”

There is every probability that the completed date was 1533, and that the little picture was produced at about the same time as the Windsor version, though the sitter looks slightly younger, and while the more important work was painted for a place on the walls of the Hanse Guildhall, the lesser one may well have been done for sending to the sitter’s relations abroad. The Munich catalogue states that it is from the Elector Palatine’s palace at Mannheim, but otherwise nothing is known of its history.

VOL. II., PLATE 4B
DERICH TYBIS
1533
IMPERIAL GALLERY, VIENNA
]

[Sidenote: PORTRAIT OF DERICH TYBIS]