he Hanseatic
League. During his first sojourn in England, he had painted the
chancellor, Sir Thomas More, his protector and friend, and he had traced
the features of several members of the aristocracy. On his return,
circumstances for his gaining access to the court were less favourable.
Henry VIII. was obeying his own good pleasure and satisfying all his
caprices, and the chancellor was holding aloof, and could not exert his
influence. Holbein did not now possess the title of Painter to the King,
consequently he had to consider himself happy in obtaining the favour of
his compatriots.
The German merchants had formed themselves into a powerful association;
they found themselves united in a kind of city, which went by the name
of Stahlhof. There they had their Guildhall, their Bourse, the place
where their affairs were managed and which contained their stores of
merchandise, and their counting-houses. It was a separate quarter, where
each one could also have his own dwelling.
The company was opulent; the industry of the members of the Hanseatic
League was chiefly in iron and the precious metals; among them were
armourers, watch-makers, and goldsmiths. In the Stahlhof, called in
English the Steelyard, and which the founders themselves had designated
the Palace of Steel, was to be noted a certain opulence and pursuit of
comfort which is to be found in all ages. After having finished their
business, the merchants formed a social circle of their own. They had a
festival-hall of their own, and they could walk about in spacious
gardens which extended along the banks of the Thames.
Among these representatives of high finance a painter might find a
choice _clientele_ that would never care about the price of an order. We
know that Holbein painted the portraits of many of these rich merchants,
for to-day we find these canvases, whose authenticity has been
established, in Museums and important collections. We may therefore
suppose that the German merchants appreciated Holbein at his true value;
doubtless they disputed the honour of having their features reproduced
by a master of such remarkable talent.
The portrait of Georg Gisze, which is before our readers, is certainly
the finest work of this series. When we saw this masterly work in the
Museum of Berlin, to which it belongs, it left an indelible impression
upon us which we still feel at this distance. It is incontestably a
masterpiece from every point of view; in the Ga
|