If we cannot say with any certainty why Holbein came to England, we may at least presume that Sir Thomas More was his earliest patron in these islands, and his famous "Household of Sir Thomas More" would seem to have been the first intimation to a considerable section of English art lovers that a new light had arisen. It was of course most fortunate for the painter that he could command the attention of the highest in the land with his first serious effort, for the future was at once assured; and if it was well for the painter, it is better [52] still for us. How many notable men has he rescued from the comparative oblivion of the printed record? In how many cases has he helped us to correct or justify the impressions of the historian? The human face tells its own story, and, when it is set down by a master-hand, we know something at least of the brain that worked behind it. Holbein was a realist. It was no part of his artistic intention to make a portrait a mere beautiful picture, to treat his subject pictorially in fashion that would flatter a sitter's vanity. Perhaps he had not the dangerous quality of imagination that would make such a procedure possible. He saw clearly, fully, dispassionately, and set down on paper or canvas just what he had seen—neither more nor less. Even the Renaissance decorations that had delighted him [53] as a boy were laid aside long before he came from Basle to London, and such mere cleverness as he permitted himself was done obviously enough to attract custom, and was to be seen in the skilful composition of his portrait groups. He was a hard-headed, serious artist, and appealed to a singularly level-headed generation, that had not been educated up or down to the special genius of the Renaissance portrait painters of Italy. For in spite of the exquisite and well-nigh inimitable quality of the Italian masters, their work would have seemed rather exotic in our colder clime. Moreover, the days of revolt against the spirit that so many of them expressed were upon the land.

We cannot say with any certainty when or why Holbein decided to try his fortune [54] in England. It is likely that one of the English noblemen travelling on the Continent, the Earl of Surrey or the Earl of Arundel, was the first to advise him to visit this island; and when the troubles that beset art in Basle made a change imperative, the painter applied to Erasmus for introductions and received one to Sir Thomas More, to whom he was advised to take one of his portraits of Erasmus as a sample of his talent. Apparently the good folks of Basle were a little startled, and even vexed, to find that their premier artist was leaving them. They are said to have put obstacles in the way of his departure, but he would not be denied. Holbein travelled by way of Antwerp, attracted by the works of Quentin Matsys, and in 1526 he reached London, presented himself to [55] the Chancellor, and made such a favourable impression that he was received forthwith and installed in his home at Chelsea. His gratitude was expressed quickly and significantly. Sir Thomas himself was the first in the long roll of distinguished men who have perhaps obtained a larger measure of immortality from Holbein's brush than from the work of their own hands.

But for Erasmus and Lord Surrey, the painter might have languished for lack of opportunity to show his powers. He might even have returned to the Continent, where his varied gifts commanded a certain market, and in that case the long roll of Tudor worthies would not have been preserved to us, and the bright light that he has thrown upon a fascinating period of our history would have been lost. But the Chancellor himself, [56] apparently no mean judge of good work, moved in the centre of the most select and refined circle in Christendom, and as soon as he had expressed his satisfaction with the painter's work there was no lack of sitters. Perhaps an artist would say that the quality of the sitter's face does not matter, and that personality is of small account, but from the layman's point of view this is not the case. The born ruler, the administrator, scholar, soldier, poet, must be more interesting to most of us than the person whose only qualification for an appearance on canvas is the capacity to pay for it. Holbein's sitters were worthy of his brush, and between 1526 and 1529 the artist made an enduring reputation in London, where, according to some at least of his chroniclers, he came under the notice of [57] King Henry, although he does not appear to have done any work for him on the occasion of his first visit.

The sojourn of nearly three years completed, the painter returned to his home in Basle, and occupied himself in that city until 1531. He would seem to have made up his mind to try the Continent again before yielding to the invitations he had received in England. Then again he had domestic affairs to settle, and they were not of the easiest, for his wife had certain good reasons to feel aggrieved, and Holbein did not regard constancy as one of the indispensable conditions of married life. In order that he might not be troubled overmuch on his return to our shores, he decided to leave his wife and family in Basle, where he left provision for all their wants. He never failed [58] to look after his children and do his best for them. In days when there was neither regular postal service nor telegrams nor newspapers, he could live his own life without fear of any remonstrances; and we know enough of his progress in these islands to be satisfied that, had he brought his wife over, she would have had sound and sufficient reason to complain. The religious squabbles in Basle would seem to have made it hard for any artist to earn a living, and between the dates of his return and his second visit to this country he found little work for his brush. Happily he was equipped in every branch, and as his work as a painter was not in great demand, he went to the gold workers and the printers, and did not go to them in vain. They were happy enough to employ him, and work that he executed at this period of his career is one of the prizes of the collector and the connoisseur.

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When in 1531 the painter returned to England he could stand alone, and this was well for him, since Sir Thomas More was born to learn that the favour of princes is not remarkable for a quality of permanence. There would seem to have been no lack of work for Holbein as long as he lived. Here we may remark that the date of his death is in dispute, some authorities placing it as early as 1543, while others grant him another eleven years—a very valuable concession to any poor mortal, but one that the Fates do not appear to have granted, 1543 being the probable date of his death, and the Plague the cause.

He was not satisfied with portraits for long. The Steelyard, of which we shall soon [62] speak at length, gave him subject pictures to paint. King Henry took him into his service with a retainer of £30 a year, no inconsiderable sum in those days, and payment for all works done, and he soon became a painter of the pictures that are produced to commemorate state occasions. Happily he painted them better than some more modern men have been able to. It is hardly a reproach to a man that he cannot invest with special interest a picture that is to all intent and purpose composed for him, a canvas on which the figures must be handled less with regard to composition than precedence, and really Holbein did very well. His education was certain to tell in his favour; he began to enjoy the fruits of his association with the Humanists. Great painters employed at European Courts enjoyed a certain [63] ambassadorial rank: the interest taken in art was so considerable, that the gift of a picture by a great artist was as fine a present as could be given or received, and when artists were sent to foreign courts they were often entrusted with missions not associated directly or indirectly with their profession.

To be sure, Holbein did not hold the same high position that fell to Peter Paul Rubens, but he was entrusted on two occasions with missions of a very delicate character, being instructed to paint the portraits of ladies whom the king had married or was prepared to marry. The Dowager Duchess of Milan was one of the few who declined to become Queen of England, and Anne of Cleves was one who was less discriminating. There can be no doubt that [64] Holbein's capacity for expressing strength in the most delicate fashion imaginable appealed very strongly to his sitters. The rugged character of one man's head, the delicate lines of a woman's face, could be expressed without violence in the one case or excess of sentiment in the other, and he does not seem to have done more than present his sitters in their most attractive aspect, and with due regard to their salient characteristics. He did not flatter and he did not shock, but would seem to have found something at once pleasant and true to express about all his sitters.

Although it does not seem unreasonable to believe that Holbein would have lacked work on his return to England, even if the social troubles of the time had been even greater than they were, it must be admitted [65] that the painter was very fortunate in securing the patronage of the Steelyard, the great German or Anglo-German trading company established on the banks of the Thames. It was associated with the Hanseatic League; its buildings extended over a large part of the city in the neighbourhood of Thames Street and Cannon Street; its members had a Guildhall with beautiful garden in a place where London is almost at its ugliest to-day, and the Steelyard Tavern was a very noted house. To the Steelyard came all the traffic of the Orient, all the spices of the merchant. As much of Europe as had the desire to trade with England—then only a second-rate power—relied largely upon the agency of the Steelyard. The Corporation that governed the undertaking would seem to have been a [66] very capable body, and in return for the privileges granted to it by successive rulers, every member was sworn to play a man's part in the defence of London. We have nothing like the Steelyard in Great Britain to-day, but the East India Company probably had much in common with it; and had Rhodesia proved worthy of the highest hopes entertained by its founder, the Chartered Company might have been conducted on similar lines. Such associations are apt to spring up when an old country discovers a new one. German trading associations were as pushful in Renaissance times as they are to-day, and more artistic. It should be remembered that Bellini, Titian, and Tintoretto worked for German merchants in Venice.

When Holbein came back to London to [67] find Warham and Colet dead, and Sir Thomas More, with but a little space of life left, retiring from the high office of Chancellor, he seems to have found new friends in the Steelyard; and perhaps because he was anxious to establish a position among the members of the richest trading guild of his time, he seems to have devoted a great deal of care and time to his world-famous portrait of George Gisze, one of the merchants of the Steelyard. The picture, in an admirable condition of preservation, is to be seen in the Berlin Gallery, and is one of the richest, most decorative portraits ever painted by the artist. It will be found reproduced in these pages, and perhaps there will be some who will wonder whether the artist did not work deliberately to interest and astonish his new clients, and whether, for that purpose, [68] he did not depart from his usual reticence and good taste. The portrait of Gisze himself, a handsome man, wearing a bright scarlet doublet under a black cloak, is admirable, it arrests and holds the attention. But the heterogeneous mass of accessories startles and tires the spectator. Vase and flowers, scissors, book, scales, letters, golden balls, inscription, keys, watches, seals—there seems to be no limit to the material with which Holbein has loaded his canvas, and the accessories are all so well painted that they seem to be wasted. There is no reason to doubt that Holbein was deliberately painting a picture for purpose of advertisement, and that he intended to make his appeal to a class that, for all its business acumen and commercial intelligence, was not on the same intellectual plane as the men of Sir Thomas More's world.

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PLATE VIII.—SIR HENRY WYATT
(In the Louvre)

This portrait of Sir Henry Wyatt, a bust on panel with green background, was long thought to stand for the painter's friend and patron Sir Thomas More, and it has been left for modern research to discover the mistake. Holbein painted this portrait twice. There is a replica in the National Gallery of Ireland.