2475. CHRISTINA, DUCHESS OF MILAN.
Hans Holbein (German: 1497-1543). See 1314.
Amongst Holbein's duties as painter to Henry VIII. was that of taking portraits of the ladies whom he proposed in turn to wed. After the death of Jane Seymour, the first favourite was the lady before us, "the demure half-smile not yet faded from her eyes"—Christina, daughter of Christian II. of Denmark, niece of the Emperor Charles V., and widow of the Duke of Milan. Reasons of state suggested her marriage to Henry VIII., and Holbein was sent to Brussels, where the Duchess was residing. Our portrait was painted a few years later than "The Ambassadors," from a sketch made at Brussels on March 12, 1538. The circumstances are entertainingly told in the letters of the English envoy, John Hutton, to Thomas Cromwell. On the 10th August Hutton had sent off a portrait by another artist to Henry VIII., that he might judge of the appearance of the young Duchess before making her a proposal of marriage. The next evening "Mr. Haunce" (i.e. Hans Holbein) arrived in company of a servant of the king, whereupon Hutton sent off an express-courier to fetch back the picture he had already despatched, "for that in my opinion," he said, "it was not so perfect as the case required, neither as the said Mr. Haunce could make it." "The next day following at one of the clock in the afternoon, the said Lord Benedick came for Mr. Haunce, who, having but three hours' space, both showed himself to be master of that science, for it is very perfect; the other is but slobbered in comparison to it, as, by the sight of both, your Lordships shall well perceive."
The original—the study, sketch, or miniature, the result of three hours' hard work—has disappeared; but the picture which the master made from it after he came home is now before us. The portrait, it would seem, did not make the king less anxious for the match—which, however, was broken off, it will be remembered, after long negotiations, by the hostility of the emperor. The duchess, in spite of her tender years, seems—and the picture does not belie the supposition—to have had a character of her own. The story of her reply, "that she had but one head, but that if she had two, one should be at the service of his majesty," is, indeed, now discredited; but her actual answer, "You know I am the Emperor's poor servant and must follow his pleasure," was, in the light of subsequent events, equally to the point. The English envoy specially reported "her honest countenance and the few words she wisely spoke."
The beautiful portrait before us was retained by Henry VIII., and through the Lumley, Pembroke, and Arundel Collections it passed into that of the Dukes of Norfolk. "Whether as a pictorial record of an interesting chapter of our history, or as an example of the presentment of a fresh and winning young personality by the most masterful and at the same time most reserved and refined methods of the painter's craft, the picture counts among the very noblest of the art treasures still left in England. That it is so left is mainly due to the splendid generosity of a small group of private donors, the chief of whom elude our public thanks by choosing firmly to remain anonymous. At the eleventh hour, when the picture was on the very point of leaving our shores to enrich a private gallery in America, these benefactors came forward and enabled the Committee of the National Art-Collections' Fund to present the masterpiece to the nation." The price paid was £72,000. (Report of the National Art-Collections' Fund, 1909; Froude's History of England, ch. xv.) The picture had for many years been lent to the National Gallery by the Duke of Norfolk.[261]