This somewhat primitive jest appears to be the sole foundation for the statements of several of Holbein’s earlier biographers that he was of a gross and sensual character, too fond of the wine-cup, and, in consequence, lived in poverty. The worst offender in this way was Charles Patin, a French physician who had settled in Basel in the seventeenth century, after having been forced to leave Paris on account of some misbehaviour. He was the first to bring this accusation against the painter, and later writers copied him without verifying his statements. Van Mander and Sandrart, who repeated all the gossip they could collect, do not allude to this supposed weakness in the painter’s character. Patin’s misrepresentations occur in a short life of Holbein, filled with inaccuracies, which he wrote as a preface to an edition of the Praise of Folly, issued in Basel in 1676, in which, for the first time, these marginal illustrations were published, being engraved for the book by C. Merian from copies of the originals made by W. Stettler. They at once became highly popular, and various editions followed, both on the Continent and in England. Patin evidently allowed his imagination to run away with him in his interpretation of this somewhat feeble joke made at Holbein’s expense. There is absolutely no foundation for the legend thus set going; the painter’s whole career, the high perfection of his technical powers, and the extraordinary amount of work he accomplished in his short life are more than sufficient in themselves to refute it.
Vol. I., Plate 13.
MARGINAL DRAWINGS IN A COPY OF THE “PRAISE OF FOLLY”
Basel Gallery
There is a small portrait in the Grand-Ducal Museum at Darmstadt, dated 1515, at one time in the possession of the Von Schinz family of Zürich, which represents, at half-length, a young man in scarlet dress and cap, with long fair hair falling over the ears, the head standing out strongly against a bright-blue background.[[121]] It is inscribed across the bottom with the date between the initials H.H., and until recently has been considered by most writers to be a work of the younger Hans, and was reproduced as his by Herr Knackfuss. In 1904 Dr. Hes first drew attention to its close similarity to the work of Ambrosius, and most modern criticism is in agreement with him. It bears, in style and touch, a far stronger likeness to the art of Ambrosius than to that of Hans, and has much in common with the portrait of Hans Herbster in the Basel Gallery (No. 293), painted by him in the following year,[[122]] which, when it was in Lord Northbrook’s collection, was regarded as from the brush of his brother; and still more so to the two portraits of unknown boys, also in the Basel Gallery (Nos. 294-5). There is, indeed, a fine drawing of the head of an unknown man by Ambrosius, belonging to the Basel Kunstverein, which as a portrait bears so strong a likeness to the Darmstadt picture that it might almost be regarded as a study for it.[[123]] In the drawing the position is reversed, the subject being turned to the right instead of to the left, but the dress and hair are the same, and, judging from the technique, both are from the same hand. The inscription on the Darmstadt portrait is possibly of a somewhat later date than the painting, and there are faint indications of an earlier one beneath it. When this earlier one was replaced or renewed, the initial of the Christian name may have been changed from A. to H. In his book Dr. Woltmann included the portrait among the works of Hans Holbein the Elder, but modern criticism does not follow him in this.
THE SCHOOLMASTER’S SIGN-BOARD
At this early period of his career the young painter was willing to undertake any piece of work, however humble, that came to his hand. Thus, in 1516, he painted a sign-board for some Basel schoolmaster to hang outside his house (Pl. [14]). The panel was painted on both sides, the upper and larger portion of each being filled with a long inscription in German stating that the owner of the sign was prepared to teach reading and writing in the shortest possible time, and at moderate prices, to all comers, citizens, artisans, women, and maidens; and that if in any instance the scholar proved too stupid to learn, no fee would be demanded, but that children were to be paid for in advance at each quarter. The inscription is the same on both sides, one being dated “1516,” and the other “Anno MCCCCCXVI.” In the narrow space left below, Holbein depicted two scenes representing the interior of the school, with benches against the wall under the leaded windows. In one of them the schoolmaster is shown on the left, in red and yellow, seated at his high desk, with a birch rod in his hand, teaching a small boy in green to read. On the other side of the room is the schoolmistress, in red dress and white coif, at a similar desk, instructing a little girl clad in blue and green. Between them sit two small lads at their books, one in blue, and the other in yellow with a red cap. The second picture represents the same room from another point of view, with a washing cistern and basin, and a long towel fastened to the wall. In the centre is a large table at which the schoolmaster is engaged with two young men dressed in the fashion of the landsknechte, one in trunks of red and yellow stripes, who is wrestling with a pen, and the other in green, who is listening with an intent and highly-puzzled expression to the instructions of the master, who is attempting to teach him to read. Holbein has represented the mental perturbation of this second pupil with considerable humour. Both pictures display signs of some haste in the execution, but they must have served the purpose for which they were intended admirably. Though slight works, they have undoubted charm, and, small as they are, the youthful painter has managed to give considerable expression in both the faces and the gestures of his figures, while the light which comes through the windows is well managed. This sign-board, now in the Basel Gallery (Nos. 310-11), has been split into two, in order that both sides may be exhibited.[[124]] When in actual use it must have hung from an iron bar over the pavement. It is quite possible that it was painted for Oswald Molitor, who, as already pointed out, was at that time in Basel, engaged in teaching.
Vol. I., Plate 14.
