The Anglesey Abbey Portrait

«The composition of this picture, a left full profile, is relatively rare in English portraiture of sixteenth century. While a number of profile portraits are known, they almost invariably depict men rather than women, and the majority of even those were the work of just one artist, Hans Holbein.» A Queen of a New Invention, by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 141

«The style of the costume is decidedly inconsistent with English fashion in general and that of Jane Grey's lifetime in particular. The headgear indicates a sitter from south-central Europe, perhaps southeastern France, the southern German-speaking states, or northern Italy. Additionally, the caul and low-profile hat are consistent wtih styles of those regions in the 1560s or 1570s, more than a decade after Jane Grey's death in February 1554. Based on the costume alone, Lady Jane Grey can reliably be eliminated as the sitter in this portrait.» A Queen of a New Invention, by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 141

«The face appears on the whole too perfect, too obviously consistent with facial ratios and proportions long held by Western European artists as an aesthetic ideal.» A Queen of a New Invention, by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 141

The Ansty Hall Miniature Portrait

I should be upfront with you. I do not have a shred of evidence to support this theory. Unlike with the Duckett portrait, in which I believe that an actual case can be made for it being Lady Jane Grey, I can offer nothing similar for the Anglesey Abbey portrait.

All I have is a theory.

One of the two portraits we know existed of Lady Jane Grey hang at Chatsworth, in the bedchamber of its mistress Bess of Hardwick. She was a close, personal friend of the Greys. Amongst other things, the wedding to her second husband (and the father of all of her children) Sir William Cavendish took place at their home at two o'clock in the morning.

Bess was married four times, steadily climbing the social ladder with each match, but only one of them, this one, resulted in children. Of the eight children born to Bess and Sir William Cavendish, six of them would live to have children of their own.

One of those children was Elizabeth Cavendish (31 March 1555 – 21 January 1582). She married Charles Stuart, 1st Earl of Lennox. The reason that this marriage is interesting is that Charles Stuart, 1st Earl of Lennox, was the son of Lady Margaret Douglas, and subsequently the grandson of Margaret Tudor, Queen of Scotland. Charles Stuart, 1st Earl of Lennox was also the younger brother of Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, the ill-suited husband of Mary, Queen of Scots.

This alliance would put the children of this marriage in direct line for the throne.

In 1574, when Elizabeth Cavendish secretly married Charles Stuart, 1st Earl of Lennox, the younger brother of Lord Darnley and a claimant to the English throne, Queen Elizabeth I became enraged at the two sets of parents for arranging such a controversial marriage without her permission. The Queen sent Elizabeth's mother Bess of Hardwick and her mother-in-law Margaret Douglas to imprisonment in the Tower of London.

In the end, the couple had one child, a daughter. They both passed away early, and Lady Arbella Stuart, 2nd Countess of Lennox, was raised by Bess of Hardwick, her grandmother.

Clearly there was no risk attached to owning portraits of Lady Jane Grey in Elizabethan times. We know, because people did. And not clandestinely either, as may have been the case with hidden-away portraits of Katherine Howard and Anne Boleyn in the time of Henry VIII. No, two of them were registered in inventories, the Chatsworth and Lumley Portrait in 1560 and 1590 respectively, the Streatham Portrait was created some time in the 1590's, Sir Lionel Duckett died in 1587 and must presumably have purchased his painting at some point prior to that, the Houghton Portrait was probably owned by Frances Rodes of Bartborough Hall, Derbyshire, in the 1580's, certainly he was in possession of a portrait he called Lady Jane Grey.[1]

And yet we have the Streatham Portrait, which is described as «in poor condition and damaged, as if it has been attacked[2] (emphasis mine)

«[T]he scratched lines across the eyes and mouth may be result of a deliberate attack at some point in history.»[3]

A portrait clearly deliberately commissioned, then purposefully defaced, and yet not destroyed completely.

Curious.

By the 1700's, as we can see by the popularity of prints of Lady Jane Grey (a line engraving of the Wrest Park portrait was published in 1681, for instance) and the resurgence of a Norris portrait type portrait, the Magdalene or Dauntsey portrait, this 'danger' or whatever one wishes to call it was clearly over.

So what happened between the 1590's and say 1681 which might have made it dangerous to possess a painting of Lady Jane Grey, a little girl who had already been dead for 40 years by the time the Streatham portrait was painted?

Well, there was the English civil war and the interregnum. But I have never heard of Lady Jane Grey being an enemy of either side in that conflict. As a reformer, she would have appealed to Puritan Roundheads and the moderate Protestants on the King's side alike. 

It was a religious conflict, of course, amongst other issues, but not one in which she would have been likely to have been an object of hate.

Arbella Stuart, on the other hand, managed to get herself into trouble two times in this period.

It was undoubtedly Bess of Hardwick's fondest hope that Queen Elizabeth would appoint Arbella Stuart her successor. The Queen was reasonably kind to her, inviting Arbella for extended stays during the summers of 1587 and 1588 and one that lasted from November 1591 to July 1592. However, for whatever reason, Arbella clearly failed to impress the people who counted favourably enough for the mantle of government to fall on her.

«In the closing months of Elizabeth's reign, Arbella fell into trouble through reports that she intended to marry Edward Seymour, a member of the prominent Seymour family. This was reported to the Queen by the supposed groom's grandfather, Edward Seymour, 1st Earl of Hertford. Arbella denied having any intention of marrying without the Queen's permission.»

«In 1610, Arbella, who was fourth in line to the English throne, was in trouble again for planning to marry William Seymour, then known as Lord Beauchamp, who later succeeded as 2nd Duke of Somerset. Lord Beauchamp was sixth-in-line, grandson of Lady Katherine Grey, a younger sister of Lady Jane Grey and a granddaughter of Mary Tudor, younger sister of King Henry VIII and Arbella's ancestor, Margaret Tudor. Under the circumstances, the King wondered whether the marriage was the prelude to an attempt to seize the Crown itself.

Although the couple at first denied that any arrangement existed between them, they later married in secret on 22 June 1610 at Greenwich Palace. For marrying without his permission, King James imprisoned them: Arbella in Sir Thomas Perry's house in Lambeth and Lord Beauchamp in the Tower of London. The couple had some liberty within those buildings, and some of Arbella's letters to Beauchamp and to the King during this period survive. When the King learned of her letters to Lord Beauchamp, however, he ordered Arbella's transfer to the custody of William James, Bishop of Durham. Arbella claimed to be ill, so her departure for Durham was delayed.

The couple used that delay to plan their escape. Arbella dressed as a man and escaped to Lee (in Kent), but Lord Beauchamp did not meet her there before their getaway ship was to sail for France. Sara Jayne Steen records that Imogen, the virtuous, cross-dressed heroine of William Shakespeare's play Cymbeline (1610–1611), has sometimes been read as a reference to Arbella but the warrant for the couple's arrest is dated 3rd June 1611 and Simon Forman recorded seeing a production of that play 2 months earlier in April.

Beauchamp did escape from the Tower, but by the time he reached Lee, Arbella was gone, so he caught the next ship to Flanders. Arbella's ship was overtaken by King James's men just before it reached Calais, France. She was returned to England and imprisoned in the Tower of London. She never saw her husband again»

«In her final days as a prisoner in the Tower of London, Arbella Seymour (her married name), refusing to eat, fell ill, and died on 25 September 1615. She was buried in Westminster Abbey on 29 September 1615. In the 19th century, during a search for the tomb of James VI and I, Arbella's lead coffin was found in the vault of Mary, Queen of Scots, placed directly on top of that of the Scots queen.»

It's a very sad story.

Both of Arbella's beaus were brothers, the grandsons of Lady Katherine Grey, Countess of Hertford, the sister of Lady Jane Grey. And to them she passed her deadly inheritance.

According to the Wikipedia page of Bess of Hardwick regarding her relationship with her granddaughter, «the two fell out irrevocably when Arbella attempted to run away and marry a man who also had a claim to the throne. Bess cut Arbella from her will and begged the Queen to take her granddaughter off her hands. Arbella's royal claim was never recognized. Despite disinheriting Arbella and her eldest son (Henry: for aiding Arbella's escape); she later had a "lukewarm reconciliation with her granddaughter.»

We see here that it is the older generation, Bess of Hardwick, Arbella's grandmother, and Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford, her intended groom's grandfather, who put a stop to the connection. This seems rather hypocritical considering their own involvement in clandestine marriages, but on the other hand, who else would know better how wrongly they could turn out.

Since Bess of Hardwick had dabbled in the clandestine marriage alliance of her daughter Elizabeth Cavendish to a claimant to the English throne in 1574, Bess had watched Mary, Queen of Scots whom she had been intimately acquainted with – and her husband perhaps even more so – be beheaded.

Bess of Hardwick died at 5 pm on Saturday 13 February 1608, aged 81. Where the portrait of Lady Jane Grey went nobody knows for sure. What is certain, is that her accumulated estates were left to her children from her second marriage. And one of them must have been in possession of it when Arbella was arrested in 1610.

So what do you do when one of your nieces/cousins gets herself in trouble with the King? As we have seen in other cases, charges towards one family member, especially for treason against the King, had an unfortunate tendency to spread to other family members also. And you are, in addition to your niece/cousin getting herself in trouble, also in possession of a painting of the very person the person she got herself into trouble with can trace his claim back to, and who was, indeed, executed, because of this claim.

I do not know what you would have done. I think I would have panicked.

Someone, at some point in history, have actually attacked the Streatham portrait.

What if the Cavendishes chose a different route to conceal their portrait of Lady Jane Grey?

For instance, oh say, painting over Lady Jane Grey's outfit with one dated 20-30 years after her death and from a different country, while keeping her actual features ...

Of course, if they did indeed do this, it might seem slightly ridiculous to us a few centuries down the line.

In hindsight, if this theory actually is correct, it probably seemed downright hilarious to them too when the danger had safely passed, altering an ancient painting to stay out of trouble.

On the other hand, people had been executed for much less ...

I would think the trick, if at all possible, would have been to avoid suspicion in any way, to not be found in possession of anything incriminating in any way.

Not to be implicated.

I am not sure I would not have done anything and everything I could too to remove anything remotely incriminating in such a situation.

The Ansty Hall Miniature Portrait

PROVENANCE: Collection of Lady Jane Warwick, 18th Century, Mrs Sarah Adams (née Coker), wife of Mr Simon Adams of Ansty Hall (all according to a label on the reverse)

Bonhams

As J. Stephan Edwards correctly points out, however, there was a dearth of Lady Jane Warwicks in the 18th, and even 17th, century.

There was, however, a Lady Anne Cavendish who married a Lord Warwick.

Lady Anne Cavendish (c. 1611–1638) the daughter of William Cavendish, 2nd Earl of Devonshire married Robert Rich, 3rd Earl of Warwick (28 June 1611 – 29 May 1659 in London) and had issue.

According to her husband's Wikipedia page, Anne had one child, a son, Robert, who married Frances Cromwell, daughter of the Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell in 1657. But that son died of consumption within three months of the marriage on the 16th of February 1658, leaving no children. Frances Cromwell remarried Sir John Russell, 3rd Baronet.

There would therefore be little incentive to keep Anne's heirlooms with the family.

Though there is some indication that Frances Cromwells feelings for her first husband did not die with him. She named her third son Rich.

This genealogical website gives our Anne Cavendish, Lady Warwick also a daughter Anne, the same Anne who Wikipedia assigns to her husband's second wife and who married Thomas Barrington of Barrington Hall. Essex, heir of Sir John Barrington, 3rd Baronet.

Christian, Lady Cavendish, with her daughter

However, the time between the death of Lady Anne Cavendish, Countess of Warwick in 1638 and the life of Mrs Sarah Adams (née Coker), wife of Mr Simon Adams of Ansty Hall from c.1753-1833 (she married her Mr Simon Adams on 3 January 1778 at Tottenham, Middlesex)[4] leaves plenty of time for the miniature to end up in the hands of some family member who would rather exchange it for its monetary value.

Lady Anne Cavendish would, however, have been properly styled Lady Warwick as a married woman, and Lady Anne Cavendish as an unmarried one as the daughter of an earl, and of course her actual name would have been Anne Rich as a married woman, her title being Countess of Warwick. There is, however, a tradition among the nobility about women married to titled peers being referred to as [First Name] [Title], that is to say Lady Anne Rich, Countess of Warwick, could have been referred to as Anne Warwick. But in that case the Lady would have been omitted. The time between the death of Anne Cavendish, Countess of Warwick, and the life of Sarah Adams is, however, long enough for that to have become jumbled. For Anne, Lady Warwick to become Lady Anne Warwick.

And, if my theory is right, for Anne to become Jane.

And for the 17th century to become the 18th ...

Anne, Lady Warwick could, however, if I am right about the portrait in the Cavendishes possession, easily have had a copy of it made for herself.

Anne, Lady Warwick

Lady Jane Grey had two sisters-in-law who would also have been styled as Anne, Lady Warwick.

Anne Seymour, Countess of Warwick (1538–1588) was a writer during the sixteenth century in England, along with her sisters Lady Margaret Seymour and Lady Jane Seymour. She was the eldest daughter of Edward Seymour, 1st Duke of Somerset, who from 1547–1549 was the Lord Protector of England during the minority of her cousin, Edward VI. On 3 June 1550 Anne Seymour was married to John Dudley, Viscount Lisle, son and heir of the Duke of Northumberland. King Edward VI was present at the festivities. The match was intended as an expression of renewed amity between the young people's fathers, who were political rivals, but the peace would not last. After the Lady Jane Grey episode in 1553, Anne's husband, now Earl of Warwick, was imprisoned in the Tower of London, where she was allowed to visit him. He died of an illness in October 1554, days after his release.

Anne Russell, Countess of Warwick (1548/1549 – 9 February 1604) was the eldest daughter of Francis Russell, 2nd Earl of Bedford and his first wife Margaret St. John. Possibly serving the future Elizabeth I from childhood, she became a maid of honour in 1559, shortly after the Queen's accession. When she was 16 her father and Elizabeth's favourite, Robert Dudley, 1st Earl of Leicester, arranged her marriage to Ambrose Dudley, 3rd Earl of Warwick, Leicester's elder brother and nearly 20 years his bride's senior. The ceremony was performed on 11 November 1565 in the royal chapel at Whitehall Palace. The wedding was one of the great court festivities of Elizabeth's reign, with tournaments and banquets; it was also of political significance, since it matched two of the major Puritan families in the country.

Additionally, Jane, Lady Warwick would have been the proper styling for Lady Jane Grey's mother-in-law Jane Guildford Dudley from 1547 until her husband's elevation to the dukedom of Northumberland after Henry VIII's death.

Any one of them could have been in possession of a miniature of Lady Jane Grey. 

That does not explain, however, why the lady in the miniature is dressed in foreign fashions dating to several decades after Lady Jane Grey's death.

I cannot find any link between any of the ladies' naturally assumed heirs and any reason to fear being caught with an image of Lady Jane Grey.

Naturally, perhaps immediately after the events of 1554, nobody would have been too eager to be found in possession the image of a convicted traitor, but these fashions date to the 1560's or 1570's, long after the death of Queen Mary I Tudor.

It should be noted, however, that after the fall of the Duke of Northumberland, Anne Stanhope, Duchess of Somerset (c.1510 – 16 April 1587) was allowed to choose from the Dudley family's confiscated household stuffs. If a miniature of Lady Jane Grey was among the items she picked, it would have undoubtedly ended up with one of her grandsons, Edward Seymour, Lord Beauchamp or Thomas Seymour, who through the vagaries of fate were Lady Jane Grey's nephews.

I had previously discounted the possibility, because why would they need to recreate the image of Lady Jane Grey in the Syon portrait, if they already had her genunie likeness portrayed on a miniature?

If the miniature had been ruined by anachronistic overpainting, that would have explained that.

That does not explain the portrait, however, and the other little miniature, and the similarities between them and the portrait suggest that there is a link there.

The Seymours could naturally have been in possession of all three of them. They could have been the ones to instigate my little overpainting plan. As the relations of Edward and William Seymour, Arbella's choice of grooms, they were the second family who had anything to fear from the scheme. They too, in a moment of blind panic, could have made the decision to alter an ancicent painting they suddenly had grounds to worry would be incriminating. Especially if they had an amateur artist in the connection.

A quick perusal gives promising results for the state of amateur painting in England in the 17th century. «Early seventeenth-century published literature on oil painting in England arose from much the same tradition: the gentleman-amateur painting as a pastime.» The Painter's Trade in the Seventeenth Century: Theory and Practice by J. Kirby

I do not know if the ladies of the 17th century were expected to be as accomplished as in Jane Austen's day, but: «According to Iain Pears (1988), the number of women active as amateur artists in 17th-century England was significantly greater than the number of men». Dictionary of Women Artists: Introductory surveys, edited by Delia Gaze, Maja Mihajlovic, Leanda Shrimpton

Both the Cavendishes and the Seymours certainly belonged to the social strata where upper class pursuits were the norm. 

But then logic dictates that their lineal descendants the Percys of Northumberland would still have been in possession of them both, as they have lovingly taken care of and preserved the Syon portrait, the smaller copy of the Syon portrait, and the miniature of Lady Katherine Grey with her son Edward Seymour, Lord Beauchamp, and the copies they have made of that, through all of these years, throughout the centuries.

They have also allowed others to make their own copies of these artworks, indicating a great pride in and love for them and their objects.

One of the identities for the mysterious 'Lady Jane Warwick' suggested by J. Stephan Edwards was Mary, Lady Warwick (8 November 1625 – 12 April 1678), wife of Charles Rich, 4th Earl of Warwick. She was the sister-in-law of Anne Cavendish, Countess of Warwick. Their husbands, Robert Rich, 3rd Earl of Warwick (1611–1659) and Charles Rich, 4th Earl of Warwick (1623?–1673), who succeeded Robert at his death in 1659, were brothers. 

The miniature may well have been wandered through inheritance from Anne, whose only son and probably only child died in 1658 and her remarried widower in 1659, to Mary, especially since, as J. Stephan Edwards puts it, «Lady Mary was a remarkably devout woman with strong Puritan values, so that it is entirely likely that she considered Jane Grey a proper model to be emulated by any pious aristocratic woman such as herself» and therefore might have expressed a strong interest in it.

Mary Boyle, Countess of Warwick's only son married another Lady Anne Cavendish. This one was the daughter of William Cavendish, 3rd Earl of Devonshire.

Though the marriage lasted only a short time – the couple was married in 1662 and her husband died in 1664 – it should have been a long enough time for the miniature to be correctly identified again if it had lost its identity since the death of the first Lady Anne Cavendish in 1638.

The second Lady Anne Cavendish was very close with her family, she was born at the home of her grandmother Christian Cavendish, Countess of Devonshire, the first Lady Anne's mother, and she named her eldest daughter after her.

As Charles, Lord Rich, predeceased his father, the Earl, this Lady Anne was never known as Lady Warwick. She instead went on to marry John Cecil, 5th Earl of Exeterand is known to history as Anne Cavendish, Countess of Exeter.

Lady Anne Cavendish, Countess of Exeter, whose first husband was the eldest and only son of the Earl of Warwick

The interesting thing about this Lady Anne, however, is that she did have an art collection.

Her husband was known as the Travelling Earl. He was a notable Grand Tourist and filled his family home, Burghley House, with treasures purchased on his travels in 1679, 1681 and 1699 in Italy. He purchased 300 works of art during his 22 years in Burghley and spent on his last visit to Europe £5,000 (c. £535,000 in 2017 currency).

The Earl and Countess lived at Burghley House, where the Earl accumulated a large art collection as a result of his European travels. The Countess joined her husband on three European tours. A portrait of her, by Godfrey Kneller, hung in the "brown dining room" at Burghley.

The label on the reverse of the Ansty Hall miniature does specifically mention a Collection, and the Countess survived her husband by four years, living to 1704, technically living into the 18th century as specified by the label.

Her name was Anne, not Jane, though, and technically she was never known as Lady Warwick, as she was only married to the eldest son of Lord Warwick.

One can however understand them if some details became jumbled, though, lol, if this is indeed the path the miniature took.

Of the nine children of Anne Cavendish, Countess of Exeter, only two would have children of their own[5]

If one is to read between the lines, there is the possibility that the way of life of her three younger sons may have been a bit rakish, this being the Georgian era, offering many possibilities for a miniature to change hands. 

I had thought that her first marriage would have been quietly passed by in genealogies, as it lasted only a short while and resulted in no children. But every genealogical account dilligently lists it, the earliest I have been able to find decribing her as: «Which John the earl married Anne, only daughter of William earl of Devonshire, widow of Charles Rich, son and heir of Charles earl of Warwick».[6]

One can easily see how that might have been jumbled into that Lady Anne Cavendish would have been titled Lady Warwick.

If it did pass through the hands of one of her sons, at least three of whom survived her by 20 years, why is only the 'Collection of Lady Jane Warwick' listed at the back of the miniature? 

Well, it might have been in the art world as in other parts of Jane Austen's world: 'A poor honourable is no catch.'

One of the two children of Anne Cavendish, Countess of Exeter, who did marry, was her youngest daughter Elizabeth, who sadly died very young. She married Charles Boyle, 4th Earl of Orrery who was the great newphew of Mary Boyle, Countess of Warwick (1625 – 1678).

Elizabeth (1687 – 12 June 1708) was born after the passing of of Mary Boyle, Countess of Warwick, showing a relationship between those women and an interweaving of their families that lasted even after death.

William Cavendish, 4th Duke of Devonshire (1720 – 1764) married Lady Charlotte Elizabeth Boyle, 6th Baroness Clifford (1731–1754), , the daughter and heiress of Richard Boyle, 3rd Earl of Burlington, a famous architect and art collector.

Elizabeth Cecil, Duchess of Devonshire, the mother of our second Lady Anne Cavendish

When I started researching this, I had no idea that these ladies' interest in miniatures was a matter of public record.

Lady Elizabeth Cecil (1619-1689), second daughter of William, 2nd Earl of Salisbury, married in 1638/9 William, 3rd Earl of Devonshire (1617-1684). In her will she bequeathed a number of miniatures to her daughter Anne. Samuel Cooper; reconstructing a life – Philip Mould 

That daughter was our second Lady Anne Cavendish, who married, in 1670, John, 5th Earl of Exeter.

Today, impressively, this group provides the nucleus of the Burghley House Collection.

Lady Anne Cavendish, Countess of Exeter, whose first husband was the son and heir of the Earl of Warwick, and who died in the 18th century, was bequeathed a number of miniatures by her mother. An incredibly impressive collection, which includes a miniature of Elizabeth, Countess of Devonshire, nee Cecil, by Samuel Cooper, signed and dated 1642, The Virgin, Child and St. John the Baptist, attributed to Jean Petitot, circa 1670, The Adoration of the Magi, by Nicholas Dixon, after Rubens, circa 1680, and Venus and Cupid, in the manner of Peter Oliver, circa 1630.

They are all very lovely and exquisite.

It seems our possible 'Lady Jane Warwick' was in possession of quite an art collection indeed.

To this day, the Burghley collection contains a portrait of Mary Rich, Countess of Warwick (1625-1678) attributed to Edmund Ashfield, our second Lady Anne Cavendish's first mother-in-law, and the sister-in-law of our first. «Lady Rich, Countess of Warwick, was the wife of the 4th Earl of Warwick and the mother of Charles Rich, (1643-1664), the first husband of Anne Cavendish who was to become the wife of John, 5th Earl of Exeter in 1670.»

Venus and Cupid, in the manner of Peter Oliver, circa 1630

Provenance: Elizabeth, Countess of Devonshire, nee Cecil, her will, proved 13th November 1690 (‘A picture of two heads of Venus and Cupid’), by whom given to her daughter, Anne, Countess of Exeter; Thence by descent.

 

Reading the above description I was reminded of this entry in the Arundel collection:

472. Heads of our Lord and the Madonna.

The Life, Correspondence & Collections of Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel by Mary Frederica Sophia Hervey

There are of course also numerous references to Venus and Cupid in the Arundel collection, best summed up in the entry below:

541. Venus and Cupid.

This often-repeated subject willl also be found under Titian, Sebastiano del Piombo, and the Veronese.

The Life, Correspondence & Collections of Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel by Mary Frederica Sophia Hervey

But it was that particular entry which struck me. It is also interesting that this particular painting is listed under III. SUBJECTS TO WHICH NO ARTISTS' NAMES ARE APPENDED.

We must remember that this was a time rife with misattributions. And yet this very common theme was not listed under any of the many artists listed in the inventory.

«In the manner of Peter Oliver» would have been a rather difficult attribution for the Italian or Dutch compilers of the inventory to make. (The inventory was propably compiled in Amsterdam in 1655, but was written in Italian.)

Of course this proves absolutely nothing. The painting listed in the Arundel inventories could have been any number paintings with this common theme, and need not have anything to do with the painting bequeated from Elizabeth Cecil, Countess of Devonshire, to her daughter Anne, whose first husband was the eldest son and heir of the Earl of Warwick.

It does, however, open for the interesting question of whether the Cavendishes could have retrieved something else from the Arundel collection.

Of Bess of Hardwick's six surviving children, we have earlier mentioned Elizabeth, the mother of Arbella Stuart.

Another daughter who is interesting to us is Mary. She married Gilbert Talbot, 7th Earl of Shrewsbury. They had five children including, Lady Alatheia (or Alethea) Talbot, who married Thomas Howard, 21st Earl of Arundel.

Thomas Howard, 21st Earl of Arundel was the owner of the Arundel collection.

He was also the direct descendant of Mary Fitzalan, Duchess of Howard, and Lady Jane Grey's first cousin. He had a burning passion for portraits of his family and all of his distant forebears.

«The Earl inherited many of [Holbein's] works, some of which were portraits of his ancestors. Arundel admitted a “foolish curiosity” for Holbein, particularly because the artist’s work linked back to his predecessors and the Tudor court, e.g. Holbein’s Thomas Howard, 3rd Duke of Norfolk. Looking at Holbein portraits is the visual equivalent of reading a historical chronicle and so he would have greatly appealed to a man with a love of history and a deep reverence for the accomplishments of his family.» Kings, Collectors, and Paintings in the 17th Century: Week 2 : The Arundel and Buckingham Collections

Of Bess of Hardwick's six surviving children, we have earlier mentioned Elizabeth, the mother of Arbella Stuart. Another daughter who is interesting to us is Mary. A portrait of her was in the Lumley collection. She married Gilbert Talbot, 7th Earl of Shrewsbury

«In 1568, Gilbert was married to Mary Cavendish, daughter of his new stepmother, Bess of Hardwick, who inherited much of her formidable mother's strength of character. When Bess and her husband fell out, Gilbert took the side of his wife and his mother-in-law against his own father. However, when the old earl died in 1590, Gilbert refused Bess the widow's portion that was her due, and consequently they fell out. He appears to have been a highly quarrelsome individual, feuding with not only his stepmother but his brother and other family members, his tenants, and even Elizabeth I herself. He was overshadowed by his formidable wife: Francis Bacon remarked that she was undoubtedly "greater than he".»

«He became a patron of the arts, as was his daughter Alethea, who became Countess of Arundel by her marriage to Thomas Howard in 1606. Talbot's second daughter, Elizabeth, married Henry Grey, 8th Earl of Kent. The eldest, Mary, married William Herbert, 3rd Earl of Pembroke. As well as bringing up their three daughters, Gilbert and Mary Talbot spent a good deal of time with their orphaned niece, Arbella Stuart. The downfall of Arbella, who as the closest relative of King James I of England had greatly offended him by marrying without his consent, had serious consequences for Gilbert and Mary: Mary, who had aided the marriage, went to the Tower of London as a result, and Gilbert lost his seat on the Privy Council.»

As we see, Arbella's family did indeed get in trouble after her marriage.

Mary Cavendish, Countess of Shrewsbury

In addition to two sons who died in infancy, the couple had three daughters, including Lady Alatheia (or Alethea) Talbot, who married Thomas Howard, 21st Earl of Arundel.

Thomas Howard, 21st Earl of Arundel was the owner of the Arundel collection.

He was also the direct descendant of Mary Fitzalan, Duchess of Howard, and Lady Jane Grey's first cousin. He had a burning passion for portraits of his family and all of his distant forebears.

«The Earl inherited many of [Holbein's] works, some of which were portraits of his ancestors. Arundel admitted a “foolish curiosity” for Holbein, particularly because the artist’s work linked back to his predecessors and the Tudor court, e.g. Holbein’s Thomas Howard, 3rd Duke of Norfolk. Looking at Holbein portraits is the visual equivalent of reading a historical chronicle and so he would have greatly appealed to a man with a love of history and a deep reverence for the accomplishments of his family.» Kings, Collectors, and Paintings in the 17th Century: Week 2 : The Arundel and Buckingham Collections

Bess of Hardwick was in a possession of portrait Lady Jane Grey in 1560. Her granddaughter Alathea married Thomas Howard, 21st Earl of Arundel, in 1606, two years before Bess' own death.

Under the circumstances I do not think it would have been unnatural for Alathea to try to secure the portrait as a gift for her husband.

Ever since I discovered this connection, it has always been in the back of my mind that the Hardwick portrait of Lady Jane Grey might have followed Lady Alathea Talbot. And in so doing it would have joined the Arundel collection.

No portrait of Lady Jane Grey was among the almost 600 paintings owned by the Howards in 1655, however.

This inventory was not done by Thomas Howard, 21st Earl of Arundel, though, or even in his lifetime, or even in the lifetime of his wife.

Alathea Talbot, Countess of Arundel

From Wikipedia: In 1641, on the eve of the English Civil War, Alathea and her husband, their son, Viscount Stafford, and his wife fled to the Netherlands. She commissioned an inventory of the contents of Tart Hall, her home on the margins of St James's, which included a chamber known as the Dutch Pranketing Room.

Alathea and her husband had been appointed to escort Marie de' Medici, Dowager Queen of France, who had been in England to visit her daughter Henrietta Maria, Queen of England (and also because she was on the outs with her son, the King of France) to Cologne and safety.

Lady Arundel was not prepared to wait for Marie de' Medici and with characteristic decisiveness set off for the Continent on her own, the reason being, so it was said, that she had a 'mania' for travel. Alethea went straight to Utrecht and met there with her husband. When he accompanied Marie de' Medici to Cologne, Alethea tried to persuade Urban VIII to allow her to enter a Carthusian monastery. In 1642 her husband accompanied the Queen and Princess Mary for her marriage to William II of Orange and left straight for Padua.

She lived in Antwerp, but moved to Alkmaar, after her husband died. She invited Franciscus Junius, for thirty years in their service, to rearrange the collection of books. Then she moved to Amersfoort (1649), and rented a pied-a-terre in Amsterdam at Singel 292, an elegant house, with a courtyard facing Herengracht.

When the Earl of Arundel died, Alethea inherited the collection of 600 paintings and drawings including works by Dürer, Holbein, Brueghel, Lucas van Leyden, Rembrandt, Rubens, Van Dyck, Raffaello da Urbino and Titian. There were 181 works with no attribution; 200 statues and 5,000 drawings, which he had bought with her money. His debts (or the collection) were estimated £100.000. She inherited Arundel Castle and Arundel House. Her eldest son argued three years in court against his father's will.

On 3 June 1654 Alethea died in Amsterdam without leaving a will and a compiled and far from clear inventory was made. The inventory consisted of 36 paintings by Titian, 16 by Giorgione, 19 by Tintoretto, 11 by Correggio, 17 by Veronese 12 by Rafaello and five by Da Vinci.

«The Fate of Arundel’s Pictures

The Arundels made arrangements for their pictures to go to the Low Countries where they arrived about 1643. Examples of the art to arrive in the Low Countries included Holbein’s Dr Chambers (Vienna) and studio versions of Titian’s Three Ages of Man. The impact of these two artists in Antwerp must have been considerable where connoisseurship was enthusiastically pursued. Towards the middle of 1645 Arundel left Antwerp for Italy while Lady Arundel left for the Low Countries. He lived most in Padua, but also visited Parma. Sadly, Arundel’s eldest grandson was now a lunatic and another grandson had become a Dominican monk; he was also angry that his wife had “scattered” his collection. The Arundel sons failed to sell their father’s art, the best items having been sent abroad to avoid looting. However, the Spanish Ambassador in London had his eye on Arundel’s impressive Raphael (Pope Leo X with his Cardinals). It was obtained and sent to Spain where Velasquez pronounced it a copy as the cardinal in the background differed from Rossi. It is now thought to be a third version painted by Bugiardini (Rome, Galleria Corsini) for Cardinal Cibo who is substituted for de’ Rossi. In 1654 Lady Arundel died in Amsterdam, just two years after her eldest son – Lord Maltravers (1608-1652). They quarrelled over Arundel’s inheritance and her Catholic faith – so she left the collection to her younger son, Lord Stafford (1612-1680). Stafford was also a Catholic, and he lost no time in selling his inheritance. Amongst the pictures to go were Veronese’s Christ and the Centurion. At this stage Lady Arundel’s will was contested by the son of her eldest son, so eventually Lord Stafford and his nephew compromised by dividing the pictures between them. Some of the Arundels were brought back to England, e.g. Holbein’s Portrait of Erasmus (NG, on loan from Longford Castle Collection). John Evelyn was scathing about the dispersal of Arundel’s collection. Most of Arundel’s pictures remained in Amsterdam for the next thirty years until they were finally dispersed by auction in 1684. [8]

[8] Francis Haskell describes the Arundel holdings and their fate: “One gets the impression of a sort of incredible emporium, owned by absentee shareholders, which, over the years, was dipped into by purchasers of all kinds, who presumably paid their bills of exchange into the accounts of the various family members who had a stake in what remained. The name of Arundel provided a plausible guarantee of quality and authenticity, but who made the arrangements, and who determined the price is not at all clear.” The King’s Pictures, 113-114.» Kings, Collectors, and Paintings in the 17th Century: Week 2 : The Arundel and Buckingham Collections

From Wikipedia again: Two grandchildren claimed half of the inheritance and sent Sir Edward Walker to the Netherlands. In 1655 Stafford was arrested in Utrecht, but released within a few weeks. Henry Howard, 6th Duke of Norfolk and his brother Charles were keen on getting the paintings and went in Utrecht to court in 1658 and 1661.

«Before his relations could interfere Lord Stafford had sold a number of pictures to the Spanish Ambassador in London, to Eberhard Jabach, of Cologne, and to the agent of the Archduke Leopold, and this may account for the fact that certain of them remained abroad, such as the Jane Seymour and Dr. Chamber in Vienna, and the Thomas and John Godsalve in Dresden.» Hans Holbein the Younger by Arthur Bensley Chamberlain

There does appear to be some overlap between the Arundel collection and the collection now at Chatsworth[7][8][9].

The Three Brothers Browne, by Isaac Oliver, signed with monogram, inscribed and dated 1598, which is in all likelihood was in the Arundel collection, is today at Burghley House, though this does not appear to have been a part of the bequest from the Countess of Devonshire.

There was another miniature by Oliver included in the bequest in addition to Venus and Cupid, that of Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex, by Isaac Oliver, circa 1600, but this does appear to have been in the Arundel collection.

Chatsworth, as it is today, with the River Derwent, which has presumably always been there

The reason this is interesting, is that after discovering the Duckett portrait, I went through the inventory of the Arundel collection with an eye for a woman not identified as Lady Jane Grey, but with a description fitting with the apperance of the lady in the Duckett portrait, to see if we might trace the Lumley portrait of Lady Jane Grey that way.

Since it seems I was the first to connect the Duckett portrait to Lady Jane Grey, I assumed that had not been done before.

I did not find that (and upon further reflection, I realised that the presence of a cartellino certainly would have told the takers of the inventory who she was. After all, how else did they know who all of these obscure English 'celebrities' from the 1500's were in a foreign country one hundred years after their deaths?)

I did, however, find the following entries:

448. Portrait of a Woman, in profile.

452. Portrait of a Woman in a small black cap with a white plume.

457. A Lady in a cap and plume.

See No. 452.

591. A Woman with a small cap and plume.

See No. 452

706. Portrait without inscription.

714. Joan Shorr, advocate.

761. A Woman to the waist.

775. Two Portraits, one of a Man, the other of a Woman, in a box. Wood.

The Life, Correspondence & Collections of Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel by Mary Frederica Sophia Hervey

Again, this is proof of absolutely nothing, but the descriptions in these entries do correspond perfectly with the Anglesey Abbey portrait, the little miniature, and the Ansty Hall miniature. Furthermore, something about the Mary Frederica Sophia Hervey writes about these entries, makes it seem as if she sometimes wonders if the different entries sometimes describe the same item. The entries were after all created Mary Frederica Sophia Hervey, not the compilers, from a «far from clear inventory». She undertook the task of trying to make some sense of it, and from the remarks of everyone who has seen the original inventory, it seems as if we owe her a great thanks for that.

Even if we put these descriptions together, we get:

Portrait without inscription of a Woman in a small black cap with a white plume, in profile, to the waist. 

Which fits perfectly with the Anglesey Abbey portrait. In fact, it is the very words I would have used if I were to try to describe the Anglesey Abbey Portrait in a list or to a person who was unfamiliar with it.

The entry 775. Two Portraits, one of a Man, the other of a Woman, in a box. Wood. will be become important later on.

However, if the Chatsworth Portrait took a little detour to the Continent, the Cavendishes must have retrieved it.

Because I do believe that this, the Anglesey Abbey portrait, was the portrait of Lady Jane Grey that hung on the bedroom wall of Bess of Hardwick in 1560.

If it had indeed travelled with the Arundels away from the civil war, its very entries in the less auspicious part of the inventory makes it clear that it would probably not have been amongst the most coveted part of the Arundel collection, allowing someone who really wanted it to discreetly purchase it rather than it being dispersed before anyone had got their bearings like some of the more prestigious items in the collection.

Because a portrait of Lady Jane Grey does keep appearing and re-appearing intermittently at Chatsworth and other Duke of Devonshire properties in the following centuries.

«The travel diarist John Byng, Viscount Torrington, did report a portrait of Jane "much neglected" and hanging in the Great Drawing Room when he visited Hardwick Hall in 1789.» A Queen of a New Invention, by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 184

The «portrait in the Middle Drawing Room that was attributed to the seventeenth-century artist Anthony van Dyck and curiously said to depict "the Dutchess[sic] of Suffolk and Lady Jane Grey."»[10] mentioned by the Devonshire House inventorist in 1811 was probably the portrait shown above of Christian, Lady Cavendish, with her daughter. 

«At least nine portraits of women that could no longer be identified were recorded [at Hardwick] in 1811. One full-length was suspected to depict Arbella Stuart, while a half-length was said to be of "a Lady supposed to be Queen" The other seven were entirely beyond recognition. And a further "Twenty other Old Portraits and Paintings various, [were] very much defaced and Bad."» A Queen of a New Invention, by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 184

«A portrait of Jane Grey reappeared briefly at Hardwick Hall early in the nineteenth century.» A Queen of a New Invention, by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 185

«But it had disappeared again by 1860, when Lady Louisa Cavendish Egerton compiled a catalogue of the pictures at Hardwick Hall. She listed just over 300 pictures, none of which were said to depict Jane Grey. Four were of unidentified women, two of which were dated to the late-seventeenth century, and a third had been newly acquired in the nineteenth century. The fourth was not described. Five years later, Sir Geore Scharf, Director of the National Portrait Gallery, surveyed over 300 pictures at Hardwick Hall, though he offered descriptions of the content of only 261, including over a dozen identified using the single word "Unknown." Then in 1903, Cecil Foljambe, Lord Hawkesbury created a printed catalogue of the collection at Hardwick Hall. Foljambe counted "four curious paintings on panels, supposed to have come from the old Hall," though he did not record their content. Neither did he find any picture that could today be identified as a potential depiction of Jane Grey.» A Queen of a New Invention, by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 185

«In all likelihood, Bess of Hardwick's authentic portrait of Jane Grey was one of the many found to be "much defaced" or "bad" late in the eighteenth century and thus not worth preserving. The picture was almost certainly discarded or deliberately destroyed before the middle of the nineteenth century.» A Queen of a New Invention, by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 185

While this is a reasonable assumption to make, I simply do not believe that they had them destroyed.

There is nothing about the Devonshire-Cavendishes and their 500-year-old manor filled with 300-year-old stuff that indicate that they are a particularly unsentimental lot.

If you look around in your own closets, chests of drawers and attics, how much of it is stuff you will never have use for again?

How much of it are you willing to throw away?

The Devonshire-Cavendishes didn't have to throw away anything that they did not particularly want to.

Presented with a list from some underling about which of their possessions that person thought useless, did they go, «Burn them all, Jeeves!!!» or did they simply shove the old, derelict paintings into one of the 300 rooms they were not currently occupying or piled them up in a corner of their 1000 square feet attic that was currently not in use?

Also, We Do Not Destroy Paintings must have been a particularly strong more in the aristocracy and otherwise, considering all of the paintings of, shall we say, varying quality that have survived through the ages and have been passed down to us.

After all, if they wanted to be rid of one or many, there was always someone willing to buy it, or some fringe family member eager for an heirloom.

The portrait of Lady Jane Grey was said to be in a poor condition indeed. 

J. Stephan Edwards offers an excellent explanation for how this may have come to be: «In the instance of the Chatsworth Portrait owned by Bess of Hardwick in 1559, the evidence suggests that the portrait suffered significant decay over time, either through conscious neglect or natural processes. Most habitable rooms in pre-modern houses included a fireplace, and those fireplaces often discharged some measure of smoke into the room itself. As is the case with modern households in which the residents smoke tobacco products, smoke residue could and did accumulate over time, eventually obscuring the image. Inventories taken in the nineteenth century at the houses of Bess’s descendants, Chatsworth House and Hardwick Hall, revealed over two dozen portraits in which the image was entirely obscured by soot and dirt. That soot and dirt also often caused chemical reactions in the protective varnish, the paintwork itself, or even the supporting wood panel, especially in those instances when the panel became wet for some reason, e.g.: ‘rising damp,’ flooding, leaking roofs. Panels became warped, split, or riddled with wood worm.» Queen Jane, Where Are You? – Some Grey Matter

If my theory is right, the additions of an amateur family painter in the early 1600's probably didn't help matters, either.

So, you have a derelict painting. At some point, you will probably want to have something done with it, yes.

It is my belief that they brought the picture of Lady Jane Grey with them to London.

J. Stephan Edwards describes how the portrait of Lady Jane Grey was moved around between Chatsworth and Old Hardwick Hall and New Hardwick Hall as the Cavendishes built, rebuilt, and redecorated.

The interesting thing is that all of these residences ended up with the same of Bess's children.

Chatsworth House – Bess died in 1608 and Chatsworth was passed to her eldest son, Henry. The estate was purchased from Henry by his brother William Cavendish, 1st Earl of Devonshire, for £10,000.

Hardwick Hall (Old and New) – After Bess's death in 1608, the house passed to her son William Cavendish, 1st Earl of Devonshire. His great-grandson, William, was created 1st Duke of Devonshire in 1694. The Devonshires made another of Bess's great houses, Chatsworth, their principal seat.

And so William Cavendish, 1st Earl of Devonshire, becomes the third of Bess of Hardwick children to be of interest to us.

Of course the above residences were in no way enough. A London house to be fashionable for the season was just the thing. Enter: Devonshire House.

Following a fire in 1733 it was rebuilt for William Cavendish, 3rd Duke of Devonshire, in the Palladian style.

Since we have observations of the portrait of Lady Jane Grey after 1733, I think we can safely assume that it was not consumed by flames that year.

But I do believe that Devonshire House is where it ended up.

Devonshire House was completed about 1740, it stood empty after the First World War and was demolished in 1924.

Quoting freely from Wikipedia: Following World War I, many aristocratic families gave up their London houses, and Devonshire House was no exception; it was deserted in 1919.

The reason for abandonment was that the 9th Duke was the first of his family to have to pay death duties; these amounted to over £500,000. Additionally, he inherited the debts of the 7th Duke. This double burden required the sale of many of the family's valuables, including books printed by William Caxton, many Shakespeare 1st editions, and Devonshire House with its even more valuable three acres of gardens. The sale was finalised in 1920, for a price of £750,000, and the house demolished.

Some of the paintings and furniture are now at the Devonshire principal seat, Chatsworth House.

Devonshire House in Piccadilly was the London residence of the Dukes of Devonshire

Some are not all.

That in itself is an indication that some of the art collection at Devonshire House was liquidated alongside with the sale of the property.

The reason was probably multifold. One was the pecuniary difficulties experienced by the 9th Duke.

Another was probably that their other residences, Chatsworth and Hardwick Hall, couldn't take anymore pictures.

Devonshire House, London, England | The Duke of Devonshire's Lost London House

At least not the whole collection.

I have previously mentioned the human instinct that rebels against letting go of something that has once been precious to us.

There is one exception.

In my experience it is when you move house, you clear house.

It is somehow easier to let everything go at once.

The Devonshire-Cavendishes did the same thing when they had to let go of Hardwick Hall in 1959. They let go of the paintings at the same time.

A ball at Devonshire House in 1850, from the Illustrated London News

The National Portrait Gallery has a list over British picture restorers, 1600-1950, showing that already early there was a need for and a knowledge of the possibility of restoring old paintings.

Devonshire House was demolished in 1924.

The Anglesey Abbey Portrait was bequeathed along with Anglesey Abbey itself and all its contents to the British nation in 1966 on the death of Huttleston Rogers Broughton, 1st Lord Fairhaven. No further documentation for the provenance of the painting is available.

When Lord Fairhaven purchased the house in 1926, it was empty. The painting called Lady Jane Grey was acquired by Lord Fairhaven only after he had purchased the house. The painting was apparently just one of many acquisitions made after 1926 by Lord Fairhaven and intended to furnish an otherwise empty residence. The purchases included a significant number of portraits of royal historical figures.

I owe the blog Mary Tudor: Renaissance Queen: Possible portrait of a young Mary? enormous thanks for the information they have been able to find and share about the 

«Paul Ganz in The Paintings of Hans Holbein: First Complete Edition (London: The Phaidon Press Ltd, 1950) provides this brief discussion of the portrait:

'Like the roundel of Prince Edward, the portrait comes from an unknown collection; it was discovered in 1937 completely overpainted and was restored at the same time, whereby the damage to the collar was revealed and repaired. The identification of the sitter with Princess Mary is based not only on the striking similarity between her profile and that of her brother Edward but also on a comparison with various other portraits. An early one in three-quarters view must have been painted by Holbein during a former reconciliation in 1536. It is now lost and known only from an etching by Wenzel Hollar with the inscription: Princeps Maria Henrici VIII Regis Angliae filia. H. Holbein pinxit, W. Hollar fecit. Ex Collectione Arundeliana 1647. A badly damaged portrait study at Windsor Castle with the inscription ‘Lady Mary after Queen’ which, owing to its present condition, I did not regard as an original appears to have been the preliminary drawing for Hollar’s engraved portrait with the sides reversed. Recently it has been acknowledged as authentic by Parker (W.DR. 41) and by H.A. Schmid (Hans Holbein d. J. 113).’ (p. 257)

Evidently this was written over six decades ago, and some of the findings no longer stand. The ‘Windsor’ sketch, concluded by Ganz to be a copy, is currently believed to be an original. The portrait of Edward is now believed to be from the workshop of Holbein, and not by the artist himself. The portrait of 'Mary', may also be by a follower.

The roundel is also discussed by Roy Strong. In Holbein: the Complete Paintings (London: Granada, 1980), Strong includes the portrait and states ‘Called the Princess Mary; Oil and tempera on wood/diam. 37/c.1543. London, Private Collection. Attributed work’ (p. 90). An image of the portrait can also be found in the National Portrait Gallery’s Heinz Archive in the sitter's box for Mary. No further information is provided, aside from the brief mention that it was once exhibited at the Walker Art Gallery (Liverpool).»

As we see, the little miniature was discovered in 1937.

Thought it is proof of absolutely nothing (and we must remember that other collections were also being liquidated at this time, probably for similar reasons) it is interesting to not that timeline-wise both the Anglesey Abbey Portrait and the little miniature fits perfectly with the sale of some of the collection housed at Devonshire House.

The little miniature completely overpainted

Devonshire House – The 6th Duke of Devonshire's ballroom at Devonshire House. It was formed from two of the 2nd Duke's drawing room by William Kent in the 1730's

I must admit that I have had an ulterior motive in posting these pictures of the interiors of Devonshire House.

I have had a secret hope that one might in the background glimpse something that could be the Anglesey Abbey Portrait, but no such luck.

Until now.

What looks like the profile and the hat of the sitter in the Devonshire House ballroom, bear a close resemblance to the profile and the hat of the sitter in the Anglesey Abbey Portrait.

If anybody knows which portrait this might else be, please leave a comment.

Devonshire House – The 6th Duke's Ballroom (detail)

Lady Jane Grey – The Anglesey Abbey Portrait

Devonshire House – The 6th Duke's Ballroom (detail)

Lady Jane Grey – The Ansty Hall Miniature Portrait

The dress, however, actually bears more resemblance to the dress of the sitter in the Ansty Hall Miniature Portrait.

The white of what looks like the chest and the arms of the sitter in the Devonshire House ballroom painting corresponds closesly with the white of the chest and the arms of the sitter in the Ansty Hall Miniature Portrait.

This would, however, mean that the Anglesey Abbey Portrait has been overpainted (at least) two times in its history.

Once to the version seen here in the Devonshire House ballroom, and once to the version we see today.

Lady Jane Grey – Engraving RCIN 600979

Lady Jane Gray

1799

John Keyse Sherwin (1751-90)

After John Plott (d.1803)

Stipple | 11.7 x 7.3 cm (sheet of paper)

The Royal Collection | RCIN 600979

 

Inscribed: From a Portrait in Coloured Wax of the same Size

One of the most curious (of admittedly a string of curious) portraits called Lady Jane Grey is this engraving, described as being from a portrait in coloured wax of the same size by J. Plott (d.1803).

John Plott (1732-1803) was a miniaturist.

«John Plott, another miniaturist, was also a pupil of the elder Hone, and was born at Winchester, where he studied law. Forsaking that pursuit, he came to London, and was at first a pupil of Richard Wilson R.A.» Chats on Old Miniatures by J. J. Foster, F.S.A.

If you look at his other work, however, either at the National Portrait Gallery or the ones that have been auctioned off, you will see that all other examples I have found of his work appear to be historically accurate.

Unlike the one of Lady Jane Grey, who is naturally wearing clothes Lady Jane Grey would never have worn, and wearing her hair in a way that Lady Jane Grey would never ever have worn hers.

His miniature of Charles I (1600-1649), for example, is perfectly historically accurate in spite of the king dying about 75 years before John Plott was born.

The miniature of Charles If is described as being after Sir Anthony van Dyck.

It would therefore make sense if his miniature of Lady Jane Grey was likewise based on a portrait by somebody else.

Lady Jane Grey – Engraving NPG D24993 © National Portrait Gallery, London

Lady Jane Grey

1793

James Ward (1769-1859)

After Robert Fulton (1765-1815)

Mezzotint | 19 7/8 in. x 13 7/8 in. (505 mm x 352 mm) paper size

National Portrait Gallery | NPG D24993

 

This

Robert Fulton (November 14, 1765 – February 25, 1815) was an American engineer and inventor who is widely credited with developing a commercially successful steamboat.

That ... does not sound very Lady Jane Grey-esque.

While steamboats are very worthy pursuits in themselves, they were not exactly what I was expecting when I started researching the origins of the portrait engraved here.

Besides, Robert Fulton was American. What in the world would he be doing in England in general and at Devonshire-Cavendish residences specifically?

Undoubtedly the above portrait was something he doodled down on a napkin one day in between dreaming of and sketching steamboats.

The Wikipedia article did, however, contain one paragraph of interest to us:

«At the age of 23, Fulton traveled to Europe, where he would live for the next twenty years. He went to England in 1786, carrying several letters of introduction to Americans abroad from prominent individuals he had met in Philadelphia. He had already corresponded with artist Benjamin West; their fathers had been close friends. West took Fulton into his home, where Fulton lived for several years and studied painting. Fulton gained many commissions painting portraits and landscapes, which allowed him to support himself. He continued to experiment with mechanical inventions.»

But it was altogether too vague for my liking.

Then I found something much more concrete and very interesting.

«[B]ut [he] was most impressed by the accomplishments of Benjamin West and in 1786, at the age of twenty-once, decided to follow him to London. Fulton carried a letter of introduction to West and both artists probably knew that their fathers had been friends. Although Fulton did not work in West's studio, where John Trumbull (1756–1843) was then working on various history paintings, he benefited from West's advice and encouragement. By 1791, he was ready to exhibit his portraits and history paintings at the Royal Academy and the Society of Artists.

As his artistic accomplishment increased, however, Fulton became dissatisfied. He desired fame and prosperity and realised that his artistic pursuits would neither become lucrative nor bring him fame commensurate with West's. In 1792, he wrote to his mother that the eight pictures he exhibited at the Royal Academy

rec'd every possible mark of approbation that the Society could give, but these exertions are all for honour – there is no prophet [sic] arising from it. It only tends to Create a name that may hereafter produce business.

During the next year, he completed three ambitions compositions, Louis the XVI in Prison Taking Leave of His Family, Lady Jane Grey the Night Before Her Execution, and Mary, Queen of Scots Under Confinement, all of which are now unlocated.» Robert Fulton's Art Collection by Carrie Rebora

Since one of these three portraits was called Mary, Queen of Scots Under Confinement, is it not possible he went somewhere ... Mary, Queen of Scots was confined?

Like Hardwick Hall?

Where we know that the portrait of Lady Jane Grey was hanging in this period?

«The travel diarist John Byng, Viscount Torrington did report a portrait of Jane "much neglected" and hanging in the Great Drawing Room when he visited Hardwick Hall in 1789. [...] A portrait of Jane Grey reappeared briefly at Hardwick Hall early in the nineteenth century, when it was reported hanging in the Long Gallery.» (A Queen of a New Invention by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 184-185)

Benjamin West was a well-connected man, and could undoubtedly have secured an invitation to Hardwick Hall for his protegé.

Besides, it seems as if many of the great houses were open to visitors, or tourists, as we would have termed them today, in this period.

«Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth, Birmingham, etc. are sufficiently known. [...] they bent their steps, after having seen all the principal wonders of the country; [...] She must own that she was tired of seeing great houses; after going over so many, she really had no pleasure in fine carpets or satin curtains.» Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Robert Fulton could have seen this 'much neglected' portrait and given it his own twist.

If you look at what looks like the sitter in the painting in the Devonshire House ballroom, it looks like she has something in the portrait to the left, that looks like a desk. The white whatever-it-is is not present in either the Anglesey Abbey Portrait or the Ansty Hall Miniature Portrait.

The white whatever-it-is does however correspond very closely to the desk and the book in the engraving.

Perhaps a more literal rendition was not even possible due to the defaced condition of the painting.

Mary Queen of Scotts Under Confinement (called Mary, Queen of Scots) – Engraving NPG D13125 © National Portrait Gallery, London

Mary Queen of Scotts Under Confinement (called Mary, Queen of Scots)

1793

Probably by William Ward (1766-1826)

Probably after Robert Fulton (1765-1815) 

Mezzotint | 19 7/8 in. x 14 in. (505 mm x 355 mm) plate size; 22 7/8 in. x 17 1/4 in. (580 mm x 439 mm) paper size

National Portrait Gallery | NPG D13125

 

If you look at the mezzotint print of Mary Queen of Scots Under Confinement, you will see that the same composition is chosen here.

Mary, Queen of Scots is sitting at a desk, looking at a book.

That the composition of two works so important to his career should be so similar could indicate a lack of imagination overall that would happily let itself be inspired by an existing portrait, while adding enough elements of his own to make it his own.

Carrie Rebora, the author of Robert Fulton's Art Collection describes them as: «The female characters are portrayed as twins in appearance and deed,» which would make sense if they are both drawn from the same reference painting.

Lady Jane Grey – Engraving NPG D36326 © National Portrait Gallery, London

A ball at Devonshire House in 1850, from the Illustrated London News

If one compares the layout of the Devonshire House ballroom, we see that this is not actually the first time we have seen this painting.

Unfortunately, it is absolutely impossible to make out any details from the drawing, not leading us any closer to determine if it is in fact the Anglesey Abbey Portrait itself.

It does however confirm that it was hanging there from at least 1850.

This is very interesting indeed.

We know that this was the 6th Duke of Devonshire's ballroom at Devonshire House, and that it was formed from two of the 2nd Duke's drawing rooms from William Kent's original design of the 1730's.

The 6th Duke of Devonshire was William Cavendish, 6th Duke of Devonshire (21 May 1790 – 18 January 1858). He ascended to the title in 1811. In fact, it was upon this occasion that we have one of the last observations of the painting that might have been Bess of Hardwick's portrait of Lady Jane Grey. A half-length which was said to be of «a Lady supposed to be Queen» was inventorised at Hardwick Hall in 1811[11].

As we see, it was a half-length portrait, perfectly in keeping with the Anglesey Abbey Portrait.

There is one more mention of the portrait of Lady Jane Grey at Hardwick Hall early in the nineteenth century, from an undated inventory in which it is listed as item number 22[12].

After that it disappears.

It is definitely not at Hardwick Hall in 1860, when Lady Louisa Cavendish Egerton compiled a catalogue of the pictures at Hardwick Hall[13].

Neither did it reappear in any subsequent cataloguing.

Timeline-wise it fits perfectly that the portrait was removed some time right after or around 1811 from Hardwick Hall by the new duke, only for the portrait to decorate his new ballroom.

It is an aestetically very pleasing picture, I think we can all agree on that.

The Althorp Portrait

The Madresfield Court Portrait

(For J. Stephan Edwards's assessment of the Althorp Portrait, see p. 130-135 of A Queen of a New Invention, for the Madresfield Court Portrait, see p. 136-139.)

The presence of a desk and a book in the Devonshire House Ballroom Edition of the Anglesey Abbey Portrait – if that is indeed what the white whatever-it-is on the left side of the lady is and that indeed is the Anglesey Abbey Portrait – has puzzled me.

They are not present in the miniature, nor in the present-day Anglesey Abbey Portrait, nor in the Ansty Hall Miniature Portrait, though there is something that looks like a desk or a small table in the Ansty Hall Miniature Portrait.

Then something occurred to me:

Fashion.

The Althorp Portrait «has been identified as Jane since at least the beginning of the eighteenth century. It enters the historical record through the Spencer ancestor Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough, a close confidant to Queen Anne and a devoted Whig supporter of the terms of the Act of Settlement of 1701. A paper label attached to the back of the panel and attributed by the Spencer family to the Duchess's own hand identifies the sitter as Jane Grey. The fifth Earl Spencer, a direct descendant of the Duchess, extended the longetivity of the identification to "as far back as the seventeenth century."»[14]

J. Stephan Edwards believes that the Madresfield Court Portrait was probably rechristened as Lady Jane Grey about 1701[15].

These two, have over the years, been very popular representations of Lady Jane Grey.

We might actually here have an instance of an actual portrait of Lady Jane Grey being altered to be more alike to paintings who were not of her.

Undoubtedly, all of these people moved in the same circles and knew each other and of each other's most precious works of art.

«Most students of Tudor history are aware that Jane Grey Dudley died at barely seventeen years of age. As a result, there was little opportunity for production of a painted likeness. Portraiture of living persons was still a relatively new cultural phenomenon in England in the sixteenth century, though its popularity there was expanding very rapidly. But they were not often commissioned for sentimental reasons or in any effort to create a remembrance of a beloved relative. Paintings of quality usually cost significant sums of money and thus were largely limited instead to expressions of individual status within some larger social structure beyond the family. Portraits of men of the sixteenth century can often be shown to coincide with elevation to a new political office or title of nobility or to mark participation in some significant public event, such as a military battle. Women’s portraits can similarly often be associated with their marriage or their safe delivery of a male heir into the family. Women and children were seldom recognized as having individual status but were instead subsumed under that of their family. As an illustration of this, we might consider the scarcity of portraits of children from Tudor England. Very few portraits of individual children are known to have been produced, and few such portraits have survived. The exceptions are almost always minor children of the reigning monarch, such as Holbein’s portrait of the future Edward VI as an infant or William Scrot’s portrait of Princess Elizabeth from the 1540s. Since Jane was not the child of any reigning monarch, nor even the grandchild of one, we cannot today expect that any portrait of her would have been produced prior to her reaching the age of eligibility for marriage. For Jane, this did not occur until the winter or spring of 1552-1553, when she reached the age of sixteen. And while Jane may have been viewed at that time by her family and its allies as a potential bride for Edward VI, the king was instead negotiating for a match with Elizabeth of France. Jane did not become a serious candidate for marriage until May of 1553, when John Dudley began promoting her as a successor to the dying Edward. Further, it took some time for an artist to be selected, one or more sittings to occur, and the actual paint-work to be completed. The span between Jane’s marriage in May and her imprisonment in mid July was a very brief one crowded with other concerns that may well have left insufficient time to plan and to create a portrait of her. And it is perhaps noteworthy that every authentic portrait of Jane’s sisters Katherine and Mary actually post-date their own respective marriages by two or more years. There was precious little opportunity for any portrait of Jane to have been produced prior to July 1553, and probably no opportunity whatsoever thereafter.

Yet we have reliable documentation that at least one portrait of Queen Jane was produced before 1559 [...] at least two portraits of Jane did nonetheless survive, the first being the one owned by Bess of Hardwick in 1559 and the second documented in the collection of John Lumley, Baron Lumley in 1590.» Queen Jane, Where Are You? – Some Grey Matter

Bess of Hardwick

I too have found it odd, that 'so many' – paradoxically speaking, considering that we would like for there to be many more and how many of purportedly of her have shown to be of entirely other ladies – portraits of Lady Jane Grey were produced, precisely for the reasons outlined above. If we make the assumption that the Duckett painting was her 'wedding portrait', made sometime around or after her marriage to Lord Guildford Dudley in 1553, what then about the portrait owned by Bess of Hardwick?

Elizabethan Chatsworth, where the portrait of Lady Jane Grey hung

«Where male courtiers who could claim membership of the Order of the Garter almost uniformly chose the Lesser George to wear around their neck, women chose the miniature. The earliest known English miniature is of Princess Mary as a child painted between 1522 and 1524. Possibly a commission for Katherine of Aragon by Lucas Horenboult, it was painted to celebrate the Treaty of Windsor and Mary's engagement to Katherine's nephew, Charles V. Almost immediately the miniature came to be considered a woman's wearable ornament. The earliest record in an English document of a miniature worn as a jewel is found in the 1529 will of Maud Green, Lady Parr, who describes a jeweled tablet composed of miniatures of the king and queen given to her earlier in the decade by Katherine of Aragon. These miniatures from her former royal mistress Maud passed on to her daughter, Kateryn, who later as queen became the employer of three women miniaturists – Susanna Horenboult, Lievine Teerlinc and Margaret Holsewyther. Miniatures appear with some frequency in aristocratic women's wills, bequeathed to both men and women. In 1565 Elizabeth Brooke, Marchioness of Northampton, left miniatures to both her husband and to Elizabeth Fitzgerald, Lady Clinton, and in 1588, that same Elizabeth Fitzgerald, now Countess of Lincoln, left to Lady Frances Chandos 'my tablett ennamyled with black wherein is my Lordes picture'. In 1582, Lucy Somerset, Lady Latimer, left to her son-in-law, Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, 'my black tablet and picture in the same'. In 1622 Lettice Knollys, Countess of Leicester, left to her granddaughter, Frances Devereux, Countess of Hertford, 'my playne Tablett with her father's picture in it'. Frances also inherited a miniature of her grandmother.

From the reign of Henry VIII, women, too, frequently used the display of miniatures as political statements. In the 1520s, Maud Green, Lady Parr, wore miniatures of Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon. In 1577, Margaret Douglas, Countess of Lennox, left to Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, 'my Tablett with the picture of Kinge Henrye the eighte therein', while in 1555 Jane Guildford, Duchess of Northumberland, widow of the man who had attempted to establish Jane Grey on the throne two years earlier, left to Jane Hawkes her miniature of Mary I, 'the greate jewell for the girdle withe two greate aggetts sett withe pearle and the quene's picthure within it'. In 1595, Anne Sackville, Lady Dacre, left to her brother 'my jewell of the Quenes Maiesties picture'. Such particular affection on the part of women for miniatures and the early documented interaction between them and this medium would continue throughout the century. Men also owned miniatures but until the last two decades of the century there is no indication that they wore them as jewelry and there are far fewer references to them in men's wills when compared with women's, A rare example of a child wearing a mourning miniature, A Young Boy Holding a Book with Flowers (now in the Weiss Gallery), dates from 1576 and is attributed to the Master of the Countess of Warwick. From surviving portraiture and amply supported by the testaments of their wills, the fashion for wearing miniatures appears to have been a peculiarly feminine one up until the later years of the reign of Queen Elizabeth. From the 1540s on they became a standard article of exchange within women's gift-giving networks and were part of the process of reciprocity of visual images that helped to hold such networks together.»

The Feminine Dynamic in English Art, 1485-1603: Women as Consumers, Patrons and Painters by Susan E. James

Lady Jane Grey reading while her family is out hunting, by Frederick Richard Pickersgill

Jane has always struck me as a bit of a lonely girl. This is hardly a revolutionary interpretation, but whatever one thinks of Roger Ascham's anecdote of finding Jane alone reading while the rest of her family was off hunting and how typical this was of her home life, and what degree of horribleness one assigns her parents, her relationship with them was complicated at best.

They clearly thought nothing of using her as cannon fodder.

No family member visited her in the Tower.

While she may have been close to her cousins, she would not have enjoyed their daily company the way many teenagers do with their friends. No correspondance between Jane and her cousins, if it ever existed, has survived.

She failed to win over her older, sophisticated cousin Elizabeth whom she was undoubtedly eager to impress, considering the circumstances and the fact that Jane spoke warmly and respectfully of Elizabeth later.

She flourished in the household and under the care of Katherine Parr and Thomas Seymour. Within two years they were both dead. Both under horrible, tragic circumstances.

Like many a bit lonely, bookish children, Jane may have found it easier to converse with adults, and she may have formed a friendship with family friend Bess of Hardwick. Perhaps even powerful, outspoken, reformist Bess reminded her a bit of Katherine Parr.

And she may have given her a miniature of herself.

Or she gave it as a gift to her goddaughter Temperance, Bess of Hardwick's daughter.

Bess [of Hardwick]’[s] second child, Temperance, born within the year, also had illustrious god-parents – Jane, Lady Warwick (soon to be Duchess of Northumberland), Lady Jane Grey and Francis Talbot, 5th Earl of Shrewsbury. Such grand sponsors did not ensure the baby’s health, and she died within a few months. Tudor Times | Bess of Hardwick: Life Story (Lady Cavendish)

Either way, the miniature would have ended up with Bess.

And so little Temperance Cavendish becomes the fourth child of Bess of Hardwick to be of importance to us.

Like most 12-year-olds, Jane would probably have been honoured by the task. Like most 12-year-old girls she would probably have been excited by a baby. Jane, in her short life, with what little is recorded of it, still comes across as a giver. In those last days in the Tower it was what she had to give that she focused on. A lovingly written message in her beloved girdle prayer book to the father that had been her undoing and sealed her fate, her Greek Testament, with a little letter, to her sister Katherine, a ring of gold and a pair of gloves to the wife of Heinrich Bullinger, to remember her by.

The girdle prayer book Lady Jane could not bear to be parted with, it followed her to the scaffold.

Of course little Temperance Cavendish passed before a year had gone by, one of only two children of Bess of Hardwick's eight to die young, taking any excitement her short existence had brought with it with her.

She certainly wasn't born under a lucky star, Lady Jane Grey.

In a curious coincidence, but probably nothing more, Temperance was born in 1549, a point in time when Lady Jane Grey's future mother-in-law would still have been known as Jane, Lady Warwick.

In 1549 Jane would have been 12 years old. There is something slightly baby-ish about the features of the girl in the miniature in Tudor garb. In 1549 Jane had also just resided in the household of Katherine Parr, who we know was fascinated by the new art of portrait painting, and patronised a great number of the exercisers of this art.

I think that Bess of Hardwick had a portrait painted based on the likeness of the miniature.

If you look at the Anglesey Abbey portrait, you can see that it is in a feigned oval, as if it were ... painted after a miniature.

There is also the matter of the Grimsthorpe Portrait.

When I started researching the Anglesey Abbey Portrait, I did not expect to end up with the line that was in possession of the Grimsthorpe Portrait.

Lady Jane Grey – The Grimsthorpe Portrait

Two Classical landscapes with fishermen, shepherds and animals, by Elizabeth Chaplin & Sophia Chaplin

«Pen and grey ink and grey washes with wash line border, each 23.5 x 30.5cm. One signed ‘Sophia Chaplin J…’, the other signed and dated ‘Elizabeth Chaplin Feby ye: 4d/1775 Chaplin’. Lady Elizabeth Chaplin, née Cecil (1729-1813) was a daughter of Brownlow, 8th Earl of Exeter and his wife Hannah Sophia and a favourite sister of the 9th Earl. She married John Chaplin of Blankney, Lincs. in 1757. Sophia Chaplin was her husband’s niece.»

Two Classical landscapes with fishermen, shepherds and animals, by Elizabeth Chaplin & Sophia Chaplin – The Burghley Collections

Elizabeth Chaplin was as the above intimates born Lady Elizabeth Cecil. She was the daughter of the 8th Earl of Exeter.

Sophia Chaplin was the Sophia Frances Chaplin Sutton Wright who was the first known owner of the Grimsthorpe Potrait.

Lady Elizabeth Chaplin, née Cecil (1729-1813)

Sir Richard Sutton 2nd Baronet (1799-1855), after a miniature by Cosway painted by his mother Sophia Frances Sutton, dated March 5th 1804

She was an accomplished miniature painter in her own right.

Sir Richard Sutton 2nd Bt. (1799-1855), as a child, seated, wearing a white dress with blue sash, holding a brown and white spaniel.

Inscribed on the reverse Sir Richard Sutton Bt./ after a miniature by/ Cosway/ painted by his mother/ Sophia Sutton/ March 5th 1804, gilt-metal frame. Oval, 95mm (3 3/4in) high

Bonhams

This was clearly a hobby she shared with her aunt, Lady Elizabeth Chaplin, née Cecil (1729-1813).

The intrepid pair may even have been the ones to 'improve' and 'repair' the face of the lady in the Grimsthorpe Portrait.

Two Classical landscapes with fishermen, shepherds and animals, by Elizabeth Chaplin & Sophia Chaplin

«Lady Elizabeth Cecil [was] a direct lineal descendant of the Cecil Earls of Exeter and of William Cecil, Lord Burghley. Through» this lineage, she was related «to the Dukes of Devonshire, the Dukes of Rutland, and the Earls of Salisbury. Each of those families had historical links to Jane Grey, so that any of them might have possessed a putative portrait of Jane. The painting may therefore have been a Chaplin family heirloom, thought it would have been rather unusual for it to have been alienated from the principal estates of the above-named families and to have passed instead into the female line represented by Sophia-Frances.» A Queen of a New Invention, by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 119

This puzzled me too. Until a possible reason for this conondrum practically fell into my lap while researching the Anglesey Abbey Portrait. 

Lady Elizabeth Chaplin, née Cecil, eldest daughter of Brownlow, 8th Earl of Exeter, by Gervase Spencer

Brownlow Cecil, 9th Earl of Exeter (21 September 1725 – 26 December 1793) was childless, and Lady Elizabeth Chaplin née Cecil was his favourite sister.

Lady Elizabeth Chaplin, née Cecil, eldest daughter of Brownlow, 8th Earl of Exeter, by Gervase Spencer

The Three Brothers Browne, by Isaac Oliver, signed with monogram, inscribed and dated 1598, though this does not appear to have been a part of the bequest.

There was also another miniature by Oliver included in the bequest, Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex, by Isaac Oliver, circa 1600.

Brownlow Cecil, 9th Earl of Exeter (1725-1793)

Portrait of Brownlow, 9th Earl of Exeter (1725-1793), Angelica Kauffman, R. A. (1741-1807)

«Captioned l.r. ‘Brownlow Earl Exeter’. Signed and dated l.l. Angelica Kauffmann fecit at aua Napolina/Ao 1764.

Oil on canvas, 101.5 cm x 74.5 cm.

The 9th Earl commissioned this portrait in Naples in 1764, whilst on his first Grand Tour. He had just met the highly talented young Swiss artist and would become one of her principal patrons. The portrait was bequeathed to his sister, Lady Elizabeth Chaplin and remained in the Chaplin family until 1972, when it was sold. It was acquired by the Burghley House Preservation Trust in 2003.»

Portrait of Brownlow, 9th Earl of Exeter (1725-1793) by Angelica Kauffman, R. A. (1741-1807) – The Burghley Collections

«Lady Elizabeth, née Cecil (1729-1813) was a favourite sister of Brownlow, 9th Earl of Exeter. She was always entrusted to ‘keep an eye’ on things at Burghley whilst he was absent, particularly on his two Grand Tours of 1763 and 1768, when he left her with extensive instructions to cover all possible eventualities during his absence! She married John Chaplin of Blankney, Lincs. in 1757.» Portrait of Lady Elizabeth Chaplin, by Thomas Hudson

As we see he bequeathed her a painting of himself.

Brownlow also donated handsomely to the British Museum.

He could also have bequeathed his favourite sister a treasured heirloom in the form of a portrait of Lady Jane Grey.

There is also the matter of the Lumley collection. «At John Lumley's death in 1609, a portion of the collection passed to Thomas Howard, 21st Earl of Arundel. The portrait of Jane Grey was not listed among the almost 600 paintings owned by the Howards in 1655, however. But the bulk of Lumley's collection passed to his cousin, Richard Lumley, who was later created Viscount Lumley in 1628. Richard's descendant in the sixth generation, George Lumley-Saunderson, 5th Earl of Scarborough, finally sold off much of the Lumley collection in 1785 and 1807. By the time of those sales, a significant percentage of the Lumley portraits had already lost their cartellini inscriptions, as evidenced by the large number of portraits described in the sale catalogues as simply "A Lady" or "A Gentleman". At least five half-length portraits of women were not able to be identified and none of either Katherine Parr or Jane Grey were included in either sale.» A Queen of a New Invention, by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 186

René de Châlon (ca 1518-44), by Jan van Scorel

Anna of Lorraine (1522-1568), by Jan van Scorel

Jane Shore from Shakespeare's Richard III, 1790

Jane Shore from Shakespeare's Richard III, 1790

Francesco Bartolozzi (1727-1815)

After Silvester Harding

Stipple engraving

 

 

From an Original Picture in the Possession of Peter Peckard D.D. Master of Magdalen College, Cambridge

London. Pub. May 1.1790 by E Harding. 132 Fleet Street.

Peter Peckard (c. 1718 – 8 December 1797). In 1781 he was appointed to the mastership of Magdalene College, Cambridge, by the Visitor of the College, John Griffin, afterwards Lord Howard de Walden, who had the right of presentation as owner of the estate of Audley End. He was incorporated at Cambridge in 1782, appointed vice-chancellor in 1784, and created Doctor of Divinity (DD) per literas regias in 1785. In April 1792 he was advanced by the crown to the deanery of Peterborough. He has a Wikipedia entry.

It is perhaps noteworthy that John Griffin, afterwards Lord Howard de Walden, who had the right of presentation as owner of the estate of Audley End, and who in 1781 appointed Peter Peckard to the mastership of Magdalene College, was a direct descendant of Margaret Audley, the first cousin and sister-in-law of Lady Jane Grey. Margaret married as her second husband the widower of another first cousin of theirs, Mary FitzAlan.

Not only that, but he had a vested interest in paintings. «The collection of about 400 paintings at Audley End House was principally formed over three generations, from 1762, by Sir John Griffin and the 3rd Lord Braybrooke. Many of the works on display in the house are currently on long-term loan from the Braybrooke family.» English Heritage, Audley End House

«Audley End House takes its name from Sir Thomas Audley, Henry VIII's Lord Chancellor» – who was married to Lady Jane Grey's aunt Elizabeth Grey, Lady Audley – and «adapted the extensive buildings of suppressed Walden Abbey as his mansion. His grandson Thomas Howard, first Earl of Suffolk, rebuilt the house on a massive scale between 1603 and 1614.» English Heritage, Audley End House

Thomas Howard, 1st Earl of Suffolk was the son of Margaret Audley, and both the great-grandfather of Charles Howard, 9th Earl of Suffolk (1685 – 28 September 1733), the first known owner of the Audley End copy of the Syon Portrait of Lady Jane Grey, and the grandfather of James Howard, 3rd Earl of Suffolk (10 February 1606/1607 – 7 January 1688), the great-grandfather of John Griffin.

John Griffin also had a vested interest in his family history. «English Heritage owns the group of thirteen portraits of the ancestors of Sir John Griffin, 4th Lord Howard de Walden, later 1st Lord Braybrooke by Enoch Seeman and Biagio Rebecca, which can still be seen inset into the panelling in the Saloon, part of the new decorative scheme designed in the 1770s.» English Heritage, Audley End House

Looking at the portraits from the Audley End Collection available online, they appear mostly to be embellished copies.

Peckard [née Ferrar], Martha (1729–1805), poet, was the eldest daughter of Huntingdon attorney Edward Ferrar, a descendant of the Ferrar family of Little Gidding. Little is known of her early life and education. On 13 June 1755 she married the Revd Peter Peckard (bap. 1717, d. 1797). She has an Oxford Dictionary of National Biography entry and a Wikipedia entry.

HARDING, SILVESTER (1745–1809), artist and publisher, was born at Newcastle-under-Lyme 25 July 1745. He was placed when a child in the charge of an uncle in London, but at the age of fourteen ran away and joined a company of strolling actors, with whom he played under an assumed name for some years. In 1775 he returned to London and took to miniature-painting, exhibiting at the Royal Academy in 1776 and subsequent years. In 1786 he joined his brother Edward (see below) in starting a book and printseller's shop in Fleet Street, where they published many prints of fancy subjects designed by him and engraved by Bartolozzi, Delatre, Gardiner, and others. He chiefly employed himself in drawing portraits of theatrical celebrities, and in copying ancient portraits in water-colours. The latter were executed with care and skill, and were employed to illustrate various historical works issued by him and his brother. Their first publication of this kind was 'Shakespeare illustrated by an Assemblage of Portraits and Views appropriated to the whole suite of our Author's Historical Dramas,' &c., consisting of 150 plates, issued in thirty numbers, 1789-93. In 1792 they removed from Fleet Street to 102 Pall Mall, where they carried on a successful business. Here they produced the 'Memoirs of Count Grammont,' 1793; 'The Economy of Human Life,' with plates by W. N. Gardiner from designs by Harding, 1795; Burger's 'Leonora,' translated by W. R. Spencer, 1796; and Dryden's Fables,' 1797, both illustrated with plates from drawings by Lady Diana Beauclerk. The first volume of their extensive series of historical portraits, known as 'The Biographical Mirrour,' with text by F. G. Waldron, appeared in 1795. Before 1798 the brothers dissolved partnership. Silvester removed to 127 and Edward to 98 Pall Mall; the former continued the 'Biographical Mirrour,' of which he issued the second volume in 1798, and the third was ready for publication at the time of his death, which took place on 12 Aug. 1809. Among other original works by Harding were a portrait of Sir Busick Harwood, M.D., engraved on a large scale in mezzotint by John Jones, and a set of six illustrations to 'Rosalynde, Euphues Golden Legacie' (the original of Shakespeare's 'As you like it '), with notes by F. G. Waldron, which were engraved and published by his brother Edward in 1802. The largest of his water-colour copies, 'Charles II receiving the first pine-apple cultivated in England from Rose, the gardener at Dawney Court, Bucks, the seat of the Duchess of Cleveland, from a picture at Strawberry Hill,' was engraved by R. Grave in 1823. He was well known to and much esteemed by the collectors of his time. He married a daughter of Dr. William Perfect of Town Malling, Kent, by whom he had, with other children, George Perfect [q. v.] and Edward; the latter engraved some good plates for his father's publications, but died at the age of twenty in 1796. The print room of the British Museum possesses many copies of portraits by Silvester Harding.

HARDING, EDWARD (1755–1840), younger brother of Silvester, was born 29 March 1755 at Stafford, where he was apprenticed to a hairdresser. After pursuing this occupation for a few years in London he abandoned it, and set up with his brother as an engraver and bookseller. After the dissolution of partnership he for a few years carried on business alone, employing W. N. Gardiner [q. v.] as his copier of portraits, and publishing, among other works, Adolphus's 'British Cabinet,' 1802; but in 1803 he was appointed librarian to Queen Charlotte, and resided first at Frogmore, and afterwards at Buckingham Palace. He became a great favourite with the queen, and ' grangerised ' many historical works for her amusement. In 1806 he published a set of portraits of the royal princes and princesses, engraved by Cheesman and others, from pictures by Gainsborough and Beechey. After Queen Charlotte's death in 1818 Harding became librarian to the Duke of Cumberland, afterwards king of Hanover, and held that post until his death, which took place at Pimlico 1 Nov. 1840.

Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900, Volume 24 Harding, Silvester by Freeman Marius O'Donoghue

Called Jane Shore, watercoloured engraving attributed to Silvester Harding, 1790

Watercolour by Silvester Harding after an original picture in the possession of Peter Peckard, D.D., Master of Magdalene College, Cambridge.

«The watercolored engraving has been credited to Sylvester Harding but was reportedly copied by Harding from an anonymous engraving previously published in 1714. That earlier version had been included in a brief historical pamphlet entitled The life and character of Jane Shore, intended to inform playgoers of 1714 regarding the central character of the play they were attending, The Tragedy of Jane Shore.6 The author of the play was Nicholas Rowe, the same playwright who wrote The Tragedy of Jane Grey in advocacy of the Hanoverian succession in 1714.» (J. Stephan Edwards, A Queen of a New Invention, p.47)

«6 Called Jane Shore, Sylvester Harding, 1790, engraving printed on paper and watercoloured, Folger Shakespeare Library, Washington, DC. See Folger cataloguing data for discussion of the origins of the engraved image.» (J. Stephan Edwards, A Queen of a New Invention, p.49)

When I first started researching the Duckett Portrait and tried to find out if anybody else had ever connected it to Lady Jane Grey or if it had ever been known as her, imagine my surprise when I found this:

«[H]e often told me that he design'd writing a Tragedy upon the Story of the Lady Jane Gray; and if he had liv'd, I should never have thought of meddling with with it myself. But as he died without doing it, in the beginning of the last Summer, I resolv'd to undertake it. And indeed, the Hopes I had of receiving some considerable Assistances from the Papers he left behind him, were one of the principal Motives that induc'd me to go about it. These Papers were in the hands of Mr. Ducket; to whom my Friend Mr. Thomas Burnet, was so kind as to write, and procure them for me.» The Tragedy of the Lady Jane Gray (1736) by Nicholas Rowe 

«6 Mr. Ducket: George Duckett (1684–1732), author and Whig MP for Wiltshire, was a close friend of Addison and Edmund Smith, the latter dying at Duckett's country estate in July 1710. Duckett had invited Smith to work on his new play of The Lady Jane Gray. Here, against the advice of the prescribing apothecary, Smith took a purge for excessive food and alcohol consumption and subsequently died. For a comprehensive biographical entry, see William Roberts, rev. Freya Johnston, 'Duckett, George (1684–1732)', ODNB, vol. 17, pp.35–36.» The Plays and Poems of Nicholas Rowe, Volume III: The Late Plays, Edited by Stephen Bernard and Claudine van Hensbergen

This establishes a direct link between the Duckett Portrait and the engraving called Jane Shore.

 

The Duckett baronetcy of 1791 and ancestors

Lionel Duckett (1511-1587), the first known owner of the Duckett Portrait

Lionel Duckett was succeeded to his many properties by his nephew, Stephen Duckett

Stephen Duckett (1548-1591) m. Anne, daughter and coheir of Humphrey Baskerville, alderman of London

John Duckett (1580-1648) m. 2) 1619 Jane, daughter of William Winter of Coleford in Gloucestershire

William Duckett (1624-1686) m. Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas Henshaw of Kensington

George Duckett (1684-1732) m. 1711 Grace Skinner – connected with the writing of and the author of A Tragedy of Lady Jane Grey (1715) and The Tragedy of Jane Shore (1714)

Grace Duckett (1714-1784) m. Gwyn Goldstone, of London, merchant Debrett's Baronetage of England

Grace Goldstone (c.1750-1798) m. 2) Sir George Jackson Duckett, 1st Baronet (1725-1822). In 1797 under the terms of the will of her uncle Thomas Duckett, Sir George assumed, by Royal Licence, the name and arms of that family, becoming Sir George Duckett, 1st Baronet. He was the owner of the Duckett Portrait when it was painted on enamel by Henry Pierce Bone 

 

«Signed, dated and inscribed on the counter-enamel in red paint: Anne Boleyn / Second Wife of Henry 8 th & Mother of / Queen Elizabeth. London. Decemb r 1835. / Painted by Henry Pierce Bone Enamel / Painter to her Majesty & their R.H. the Duch ss of Kent & Princess Victoria From the Original / by Holbien [sic] formerly in the possess n of Sir George / Duckett Bar  t (in whose family it remained from the time / of Elizabeth) & now in the collection of / Jos h Neeld Esq. M.P. and inscribed in ink on a label on the reverse: Anne Boleyn / Wife of Henry 8 th. From the Original / by Holbein in the collection of / Josh Neeld Esq. M.P. / Enamel H.P. Bone / 12 Percy Street / Bedford Square.» Anne Boleyn (1507-1536) by Henry Pierce Bone Signed and dated 1835 – The Royal Collection | RCIN 422369

(Jos h Neeld Esq. M.P. must have been Joseph Neeld (1789–1856), Member of Parliament, of Grittleton House)

Lady Jane Grey – The Dauntsey or Magdalene Portrait

According to Lee Porritt, this portrait is listed as being in the collection of from Mr Robert Dauntsey at Agecroft Hall, Manchester in 1886.

Lee Porritt goes on to speculate that this portrait is the same portrait that was in the possession of Peter Peckard, D.D., Master of Magdalene College, Cambridge in 1790.

According to J. Stephan Edwards, Peckard left all but four of his ‘pictures’ to his wife Martha. The four exceptions were portraits of himself, his wife Martha, and Martha’s parents.

An intriguing connection between Martha, the widow Peter Peckard, D.D., Master of Magdalene College and Agecroft Hall is that a copy of her will is kept among in The Agecroft Collection, which originated at and is connected to Agecroft Hall and the Dauntseys.

The Agecroft Collection

Re-presenting 'Jane' Shore: Harlot and Heroine by Maria M. Scott

Blank space

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Woeful_Lamentation_of_Jane_Shore

https://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/portrait/mw124514/Rosamund-Clifford

https://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/portrait/mw124517/Rosamund-Clifford

Jane Shore. Illustration for The Graphic and Historical Illustrator edited by EW Brayley (J Gilbert, 1832).

Lady Jane Grey – The Norris Portrait

«As with the Court Magazine engraving, this print presents an idealised image of Lady Jane Gray. The brocaded gold dress and pearl-trimmed purple overskirt are a Victorian approximation of Tudor dress.»

«Place made: United Kingdom: England, London (37 Tavistock Street, Covent Garden, London)»

Miller, S., 37, Tavistock-street, Covent-garden, W.C. is mentioned in the 1881 London Exhibition.

Two other fashion plates by S. Miller of 37 Tavistock St. Covent Garden can be found at the Vicoria and Albert Museum: Toilette de Mariée and Fashion Plate.

With a little research it became clear that S. Miller was the Samuel Miller (b.1844) who married Jane Miller, possibly one and the same woman as his business partner Marie Schild.

«But fancy dress was only part of her business. In partnership with a publisher, Samuell Miller, Mme Schild ran a business in London's Covent Garden, supplying fashion magazines, fashion plates, paper patterns – cut to the client's own measurements if required – and a whole host of other fashion-related goods and services. [...] Marie Schild also edited magazines. Lots of them. In 1870 she was editress of both The Brighton Courier of Fahion and The Drapers' and Milliners Gazette of Fashion. [...] The Dressmakers' and Milliners' Gazette of Fashion was a magazine aimed at the trade rather than private individuals. It contained fashion plates, descriptions of fashions and a free tissue paper pattern for one of the dresses shown. The magazine also offered a course of dressmaking 'lessons' and lots of advertisements for goods and services. It was, effectively, the first trade journal for dressmakers, and was printed monthly, by Samuel Miller at 37, Tavistock Street, Covent Garden.» In Between – Culture of Dress between the East and the West, Edited by Мирјана М. Менковић

When we look at the timeline it becomes tempting to speculate if Samuel Miller was not the unnamed friend who bought the Norris Portrait at an unnamed picture shop in 1870, and would later give the portrait as a present to Herbert Norris.

The two were in the same line of business, and the chances of them having known each other are good.

A Victorian Fancy Dress Ball: Popular Costumes of the Late 19th Century

Male Character Costumes for Fancy Dress Balls and Private Theatricals. London: Samuel Miller, 1884.

Norris, Herbert. Nineteenth-Century Costume and Fashion. Vol. VI. Mineola: Dover Publications, 1933.

Schild, Mme. Marie. Characters Suitable for Fancy Costume Balls. London: Samuel Miller, 1881.

Victorians Wore These Elaborate Costumes To Fancy Dress Balls

In fact, I was convinced that we had cracked at least one mystery until I saw that Lee Porritt had found two other engravings clearly connected with the Norris pattern, both shown below.

Engraved as Françoise de Foix, comtesse de Châteaubriant

1827

Artist/designer Louis-Marie Lanté (1789 - 1871)

Engraved by Georges Jacques Gatine (1773 - 1831)

Printed by Georges-Adrien Crapelet (1789 - 1842)

 

Françoise de Foix, Comtesse de Châteaubriant (c. 1495 – 16 October 1537) was a chief mistress of Francis I of France.

(Another version in which the lady has dark hair can be found on Wikipedia.)

From the book Galerie française de femmes célèbres par leurs talens, leur rang ou leur beauté (Paris, 1827), [pl.29]

«French gallery of women famous for their talents, their rank or their beauty / full-length portraits, drawn by M. Lanté, most of them from unpublished originals; engraved by M. Gatine and colored; with biographical notes and remarks on clothing. - Paris: 1827»

The inscription on this engraving reads: Dáprés un Desin de Janet et une Miniature á l'huiloe du Cabinet de Editeur – From a Design by Janet [François Clouet] and a Oil Miniature from the Publisher's Cabinet

And now suddenly there is talk of a miniature.

The likeness between the two engravings is too great for it to be a mere coincidence.

Of course, it is entirely possible that if Samuel Miller (b.1844) was the unnamed friend who bought the Norris Portrait from an equally unnamed picture shop in 1870 that he recognised the distinct features of the iconic 1827 engraving, as they are instantly recognisable to us, the necklace, the collar, the brooch, the little book, and decided to upgrade the famous engraving with the correct identity as identfied by the inscription on the portrait.

Marie of Cleves, Princess of Condé (1553–1574)

Marie of Cleves, Princess of Condé (1553–1574)

How an oil miniature of the Norris pattern found its way to France and was identified as Françoise de Foix, is, of course, a complete mystery.

A similar necklace can be seen on a sketch of another royal love-interest of the French kings, not Françoise de Foix, but Marie of Cleves, Princess of Condé (1553–1574).

The full portrait, however, shows that this necklace was made out of some dark material, silver, perhaps, not pearls.

Lady Jane Grey (1537 – 1554) – The Duckett Portrait

Françoise de Foix, Comtesse de Châteaubriant (c. 1495 – 16 October 1537)

If we put the Duckett Portrait of Lady Jane Grey and a sketch of Françoise de Foix side by side, the resemblance is startling. It is not known, however, how much the features of the lady in the Duckett Portrait were reflected in the miniature after the Norris pattern, as the miniature is currently lost.

In any case, the Duckett Portrait cannot possibly be of Françoise de Foix, as I do not think that the fashion of the square brim French hood ever made it to France from England.

In either case, the square brim French hood first starts to appear in the second half of the 1540's, more than a decade after the death of Françoise de Foix.

Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, &c.

From an Original Painting in the possession of JF Smyth

Ferdinand Smyth Stuart Esq

 

STUART, JOHN FERDINAND SMYTH (1745–1814), American loyalist, born in 1745, claimed descent through both parents from the Duke of Monmouth. According to his own doubtful statement, his father, Wentworth Smyth, was son of the Duke of Monmouth by Lady Henrietta Maria, granddaughter of Thomas Wentworth, earl of Cleveland, and daughter of Thomas, lord Wentworth. She died eight months after Monmouth's execution, and her son was said to have been adopted by Colonel Smyth, an aide-de-camp of Monmouth, who made him his heir. Wentworth Smyth joined in the risings of 1715 and 1745, and was killed in the highlands at some later date. At the age of sixty-six he is reputed to have married Maria Julia Dalziel, a girl of fifteen. She was represented to be granddaughter of General James Crofts, natural son of the Duke of Monmouth, by Eleanor, daughter of Sir Robert Needham of Lambeth. It is vaguely stated that she predeceased her husband, dying three years after her marriage.

The reputed son, John Ferdinand Smyth, who in 1793 adopted the name of Stuart, studied medicine at Edinburgh University. He then emigrated to America, and, settling near Williamsburg in Virginia, practised as a doctor in the district. When the rebellion broke out Smyth found himself the only loyalist in the neighbourhood, and on 15 Oct. 1775 he was compelled to abandon his home. He served in several regiments with the rank of captain, distinguishing himself, according to his own account, by his zeal and activity. He showed equal capacity in the most different situations. At one time he raised a special company of picked men for frontier work, and at another commanded an armed sloop in the bay of Chesapeake. He was several times made prisoner, and on one occasion was kept in irons for eighteen months. On proceeding to England at the close of the war a pension of 300l. a year was settled on him, a very partial compensation for his losses. Yet in 1784, on some insinuations secretly made against him to the commissioners for American claims, even this was suspended and never restored. In consequence he was reduced to extreme poverty, and was glad to accept the position of barrack-master. He made strenuous representations to government, and in 1795 demanded justice from Pitt peremptorily. In the same year he was persuaded to accompany Admiral Sir Hugh Cloberry Christian [q. v.] to the West Indies, where he was thrice shipwrecked and was present at the capture of St. Lucia. On his return to England he was informed that his claims were of too ancient a date to be entertained. He was knocked down and killed by a carriage at the corner of Southampton Street, London, on 20 Dec. 1814, leaving a widow destitute, two sons, and a daughter (Notes and Queries, 2nd ser. viii. 495, ix. 232, 334).

He was the author of: 1. ‘A Tour in the United States of America,’ London, 1784, 8vo. This book gives an account of his sojourn and travels in North America and of the share he took in the war. His delineation of rural society in the States is vigorous but not flattering. The republican opinions of the colonists were obnoxious to a loyalist, while their barbarous manners were repellent to a gentleman. 2. ‘A Letter to Lord Henry Petty on Coercive Vaccination,’ London, 1807, 8vo, a violent diatribe against vaccination (Chambers, Book of Days, i. 628). 3. ‘Destiny and Fortitude: an heroic poem on the Misfortunes of the House of Stuart,’ London, 1808, fol.

[Stuart's Works; The Case of Ferdinand Smyth Stuart, London, 1807, fol.]

Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900, Volume 55 Stuart, John Ferdinand Smyth by Edward Irving Carlyle

Whatever he was actually in possession of, we see that it was in John Ferdinand Smyth Stuart's interest for it to be a painting of Mary, Queen of Scots, as he had not one, but two dubious claims of descent from her to uphold.

Since he adopted the name of Stuart in 1793 and died in 1814, it seems natural to assume that the engraving is from between those two points in time.

It would here be tempting to speculate that it was the Magdalene Portrait John Ferdinand Smyth Stuart was in possession of, the dates lining up so perfectly, 1793–1814 versus Peter Peckard's death in 1797 and his widow Martha's in 1805, and Magdalene Portrait disappearance from historical record after having been engraved as Jane Shore in 1790. However, there appears to be a direct link between Martha, the widow Peter Peckard, D.D., Master of Magdalene College and the Dauntseys of Agecroft Hall, without any possible descendants of Mary, Queen of Scots in between.

Of course, the Dauntsey Portrait could be a copy of the Magdalene Portrait ...

I did also consider the possibility that it might have been the Norris Portrait which John Ferdinand Smyth Stuart was in possession of. The Norris Portrait's recorded history starts of course roughly 60 years later in 1870 in an unnamed picture shop.

I dismissed the idea (though not entirely) based on the very clear inscription identifying the Norris Portrait as Lady Jane Grey.

(The reason I did not entirely dismiss the idea is that I am very well aware of the enthusiasm of both genealogists and engravers, which can lead both groups to occasionally overlook inconvenient things, such as facts.)

But who could this someone have been?

One natural candidate is of course Jane FitzAlan, Lady Lumley. She and Lady Jane Grey were first cousins and namesakes, named for the same queen, both highly educated, and the same age.

There is some historical evidence to suggest that Jane Lumley felt Lady Jane Grey's tragedy strongly.

Something else would perhaps have been strange, but life and families can be strange.

«Lady Jane Lumley was an English noble whose abridged translation from Greek of Euripides' Iphigenia at Aulis ca.1555-58 [but not published until 1909] made her the 1st woman to translate Euripides into English & one of the earliest extant English translations of a Greek tragedy» Michel Lara on Twitter

«Interestingly, Lady Jane Lumley’s translation of Euripides’ Iphigenia at Aulis around 1555 whose theme was the unjust sacrifice of a Greek princess was likely done a year after the execution of Lumley’s cousin & ‘Nine Days Queen’, Jane Grey in February 12, 1554» Michel Lara on Twitter

The tragedy must have been amplified for the FitzAlan children by the fact that their father played a very direct part in it.

Henry FitzAlan's defection from the side of Queen Jane to the side of Queen Mary was one of the causes that the attempt to place Lady Jane Grey on the throne failed.

I cannot entirely find it in my heart to blame him, however, no matter how awful and sad I find what followed. The plan was sheer lunacy from the start, and only the unmitigated success of the career of John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland and the practically charmed lives led by Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk and his wife Frances Brandon could have blinded them to that fact.

Henry FitzAlan had his own children, his own life and his own privileged wealth to think of.

Like her cousin and namesake Lady Jane Grey, Jane FitzAlan Lumley was in many ways a tragic figure. She lost her mother at five years old, her first cousin and namesake Lady Jane at seventeen, her only brother two years later and her only sister a year after that. All of her three children died in infancy. She was estranged from her teen years from the Grey family, her mother's family, which had been very close.

They never forgave Henry FitzAlan for his role in the downfall of their family, as can be evidenced by the fact that there are no portraits of George Medley (Margaret Wotton's son from her first marriage and her Grey children's half-brother) and his family, Lord John Grey of Pirgo and his family, Elizabeth Grey, Lady Audley, Margaret Audley and her children (even though she married Jane's sister Mary FitzAlan's widower and her children were also his) recorded in the Lumley Collection. Nor of Margaret Grey or Lenton (the illegitimate daughter of Lord Thomas Grey also executed 1554), her husband John Astley, Master of the Jewel House and Treasurer of Her Majesty's jewels and plate, or their son Sir John Astley, Master of the Revels, or of their other children. The Chawton Portrait which is probably of Lady Katherine Grey was found in the family of the wife of one of her direct descendents. Nor are there any recorded of the children of Anne Grey, Lady Willoughby or of Lady Mary Grey, Lady Jane Grey's youngest sister. Many of these people were notables or «celebrities» in their own right. We know that many of them did have their portraits painted, as said portraits are still in existence and showed on this site. Nor is Jane Lumley mentioned in the will of Lady Mary Grey, which otherwise mentions a long list of her female acquaintances and relatives.

That left plenty of time to look backwards.

I have from the first had two leading theories regarding the portrait of Lady Jane Grey which was in the Lumley Collection.

If I am right in that it was the miniature now in the Victoria and Albert Museum of Katherine Grey, Countess of Hertford that was in the Lumley Collection, the portrait of Lady Jane Grey in the collection could similarly have been a miniature.

It too could have been a gift from a cousin to Jane Lumley, as if I am right about the miniature being the portrait of Katherine Grey recorded in the Lumley Collection, it was almost certainly a direct gift from Lady Katherine Grey to her cousin Jane Lumley.

Either before or after the events of 1554. I have described how the rest of the Grey family appears to have given the FitzAlans the «cut direct», but there is often one exception in such family matters. It was not as if Katherine Grey had many left to rely on either. When horrorstruck by the pregnancy that resulted from her clandestine marriage she turned first to old family friend Bess of Hardwick, then to Robert Dudley due to their earlier status as in-laws. Both turned her away, terrified of being embroiled in the affair.

Lady Jane Grey could have easily done the same thing, gifted a miniature of herself to her cousin Jane Lumley in their girlhood. For the importance of miniature gift-giving in female friendships see The Feminine Dynamic in English Art, 1485-1603: Women as Consumers, Patrons and Painters by Susan E. James.

The second theory is that the portrait in the Lumley Collection is somehow linked to the Ieanne Gray-engraving.

Of Sr Nichls Carewe Mr of the horse to K: H: 8.

Sr Nicholas Carewe Master of the horse to Kinge Henry y 8.

SR THOMAS DARCY OF CHICH. Kt. OF THE GARTER IN THE TIME OF HEN: YE: 8TH Æ. suæ 49.

The Statuary of Thomas first Lo: Darcy of Chiche created by King Edw: 6. Lo: Chamberleyne to the said K: Edw: drawn by Garlicke.

Lady Jane Grey – The Norris Portrait inscribed ‘LADYE JANE GRAY, DIED 1553 AET 17’

Lady Jane Grey – The Norris Portrait inscribed ‘LADYE JANE GRAY, DIED 1553 AET 17'

One thing that seems to have escaped everybody's notice, including mine until recently, is that whoever painted the Norris Portrait knew how old Lady Jane Grey was.

Even today, historians do not know precisely how old she was.

If anything, popular opinion, historical thought and tradition have veered towards Jane being 16 at the time of her death. But whoever inscribed the Norris Portrait knew how old Lady Jane Grey was, either at the time the original portrait was painted, or when she died. Moreover, the most recent research, who have sources at their disposal that would not have been readily available to anyone until now, agrees.

Births and age were simply not recorded the same way back then as they are today. That is why there is so much discussion about how old Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard were as well.

There is still some indication that age and bithday were important to the individual. Margaret Beaufort required Westminster Abbey to celebrate her birthday, the 31st of May. A procession of 29 mourners, one for every year of her life, was present at Queen Jane Seymour's funeral.

So someone who would have known Lady Jane Grey, like her tutors, as mentioned in the articles by J. Stephan Edwards linked to above, would likely have had knowledge of it.

Such as her cousin, Jane FitzAlan, Lady Lumley. Whom we know possessed a portrait of Lady Jane Grey.

Or rather, a painting of her first cousin Lady Jane Grey was registered in the collection of her husband, a collection that marked the potraits in it with cartellini said to contain information about the sitter's age.

I think the Norris Portrait is a direct copy of the painting once in the Lumley Collection.

It contain precisely the same information as the portrait in the Lumley Collection. Compare:

‘LADYE JANE GRAY, DIED 1553 AET 17'

Of the Lady Jane Graye, Exexuted.

In addition the Lumley cartellini are said to have contained information about the sitter's age.

As have been pointed out before, the inscription on the Norris painting pre-dates 1752, the year in which the beginning of the calendar year was moved from 25 March to 1 January, at the same time as it must of course be from after her death, since it mentions it.

Both of these facts are perfectly in keeping with the Lumley cartellini, which regardless of the original portrait's actual age would have been drawn up after 1553/4 and with a good margin of some 150 years before 1752.

Moreover, someone has added the detail of her beloved girdle book, which is not present in the Duckett Painting, which it seems is an original.

Almost as if someone could remember her carrying it around.

The Ieanne Gray-Engraving.

Roland Hui has an interesting theory regarding the engraving: Becoming Jane: The Streatham Portrait of Lady Jane Grey and its Association to a Woodcut Intended for Theodore Beza's 'Icones' (1580). He points out that the engraving is «comparable to a series of portraits found in the book Icones, id est Verae imagines virorum doctrina simul e pietate illustratrium. Written by the theologian Theodore Beza (1519-1605), it consisted of a collection of biographies, composed in Latin, of Protestant notables. Some of them were depicted by woodcuts. Published in Geneva in 1580, the book proved so popular that in the following year, it was rereleased. The new edition was translated into French by Beza's co-religionist Simon Goulard (1548-1628), who also added some new images.»

His theory is that the engraving was originally produced to be included in one or both of the two editions of the book, but for whatever reason was eventually left out.

If this theory is correct, it naturally greatly increases the likelihood of the engraving being based on an actual portrait Lady Jane Grey, that is to say, that the Duckett Portrait actually is Lady Jane Grey.

Heeding J. Stephan Edwards general warning that an engraving bearing the name of someone does not necessarily ensure that the engraving is in fact of this person – the 'Lady Jane Grey'-engraving in the Herwologia Anglica (1620) which to many of us was our mental image of Lady Jane Grey, but which turned out to be Katherine Parr being the prime example of this – I should still think that the difference between 1620 and 1580 a significant one.

Those 40 years may seem a neglible difference to us 400 years afterwards, but 1580 was a mere 25 years after Jane's death. In contrast to 1620, plenty more of the people who knew her would still have been alive. To wit: Queen Elizabeth I herself (7 September 1533 – 24 March 1603), Jane's cousin, her tutor and then Bishop of London John Aylmer (1521 – 3 June 1594), Margaret Grey or Lenton Astley, her first cousin as the illegitimate daughter of Lord Thomas Grey (d.1554), third son of the 2nd Marquis of Dorset, and Sir Francis Willoughby (1546/7–1596), another first cousin, to name a few.

Edward Seymour, 1st Earl of Hertford (22 May 1539 – 6 April 1621), Jane's childhood acquaintance and possible fiancé and posthumous brother-in-law was also alive in 1620, and, significantly as J. Stephan Edwards points out, rejected the Herwologia Anglica-engraving, the Seymours instead opting to create their own image of Lady Jane Grey in the Syon Portrait. (A Queen of a New Invention by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 173)

If the Ieanne Gray-engraving was created a mere 25 years after Jane's death, that did not leave a lot of time for her portrait to get misidentified.

In his original discussion of the Northwick Portrait, J. Stephan Edwards believed that the portrait of Lady Jane Grey came to the FitzAlan Lumleys through the acquisition of Nonsuch Palace: «The core of the Lumley collection was acquired en masse by Lord Lumley in 1580 through inheritance from his wife’s father, Henry Fitzalan, Earl of Arundel. Fitzalan was the same Earl of Arundel who figured prominently in the events of July 1553. His change of allegiance from Queen Jane to Queen Mary was critical to Mary’s eventual success. It is therefore unlikely that Arundel, as both a Marian supporter and a Roman Catholic, would have deliberately sought to acquire a portrait of the Protestant ‘usurper’ Jane Grey. It is far more likely that the portrait, whomever it depicts, came to Arundel, and thence to Lumley, when the former purchased Nonsuch Palace from the Crown in 1556. Lumley later inherited Nonsuch from Arundel, together with its collection of paintings.»

After having researched Nonsuch and the number of paintings later located there, he revised his opinion, however: «As a former royal palace, Nonsuch probably did contain numerous royal portraits, but the Lumley Inventories of 1590 include in their entirety almost three hundred paintings. In contrast, Nonsuch held just thirty three paintings by 1649. This massive quantitative difference over a span of just sixty years, especially for a royal palace still very much in use, indicates that the Nonsuch collection was itself always a small one and thus never represented more than a mere fraction of Lumley's holdings. The Northwick Portrait was, in all statistical likelihood, acquired separately from the Nonsuch inheritance.» (A Queen of a New Invention by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 41)

«The details of Lumley's acquisition of the portrait of Jane Grey are not known, so that today we can only speculate on its origins. Lumley did inherit Nonsuch Palace in 1580 from his father-in- law, Henry Fitzalan, and the collection there is usually said to have constituted the core of Lumley's own larger collection. But the picture of Jane Grey is unlikely to have originated at Nonsuch. Henry VIII began construction of the palace in 1538, though it was not entirely finished when the King died in 1547 (and when Jane Grey was not more than 11 years old). His successor Edward VI let out the palace on a long-term lease and thus did not use the residence himself. Queen Mary initially continued the lease following her own accession in 1553, but ultimately sold Nonsuch to Fitzalan in 1556. He completed construction of the palace in 1559 and soon after entertained Queen Elizabeth there. Given Fitzalan's history of initially supporting the efforts to elevate Jane Grey to the Crown at the expense of Mary and Elizabeth, however, together with Elizabeth's own famous distaste for all three Grey sisters, it would have been exceedingly impolitic for him to have displayed within the palace any portrait of his niece-by-marriage. And while it is true that Fitzalan briefly supported Katherine Grey as Elizabeth's successor when the latter suffered a near-fatal illness in 1562, he very soon shifted his support to Mary Stuart, in largest part because Mary shared Fitzalan's own Roman Catholic faith and Katherine did not. Since it is therefore unlikely that Fitzalan already held a portrait of Jane Grey at Nonsuch when John Lumley inherited the palace from him, Lumley must have acquired the painting through deliberate purchase and as a likeness that he, his wife, or both recognized as their executed cousin. And because both Lumleys were undoubtedly aware of Jane Grey's true appearance, it is improbable that the portrait was misidentified when the distinctive Lumley cartellinos were applied toward the end of the sixteenth century.» (A Queen of a New Invention by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 186)

In addition to it being highly impolitic of Henry FitzAlan, there is also the fact that he played a direct part in the events that led to what happened to Lady Jane Grey. Whether Jane's fate weighed heavily on his conscience, is between him and higher authorities than are readily available to us. But there is some proof that the events of 1554 weighed heavily on him, as evidenced by his relationship with Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, for instance. For the strange relationship between Henry FitzAlan, Earl of Arundel and Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, see Arundel and Leicester. For that reason too it is possible to question whether Henry FitzAlan, Earl of Arundel would have wanted to have a portrait of a young girl whose death he had contributed to (no matter his feelings for Jane personally), and who was family no less, staring at him from his wall.

My first thought was that the engraving was based on the portrait which was in the Lumley Collection. After all, if you wanted an engraving of Lady Jane Grey for your collection of Protestant icons, where better to turn for a portrait of her than to her close kin who were also in possession of the largest collection of portraits in England?

I thought the portrait in the Lumley Collection might have been some variation of the Duckett Portrait, a copy of some sort perhaps. I even toyed with the idea of it having been the Duckett Portrait itself.

Once I realised that the inscription and the information on the Norris Portrait corresponded so perfectly with the entry in the Lumley Inventories and with the information one might expect to find on the cartellino of the portrait of Lady Jane Grey in the Lumley Collection, I became more and more convinced that the Norris Portrait was a copy of the painting in the Lumley Collection.

LADYE JANE GRAY, DIED 1553 AET 17

Of the Lady Jane Graye, Exexuted.

The reference portrait for both the engraving and the Norris Portrait is clearly the Duckett Portrait.

However, there must independently exist some link between the engraving and the Norris Portrait (and the Streatham and Houghton portraits) on account of the pendant suspended from the necklace and the bodice brooch, which cannot be found in the Duckett Portrait but is a shared element of the engraving and these three paintings.

And soon I ran into a conundrum – my idea was that the Lumley Portrait was a personalised version of the Duckett Portrait, in which the Lumleys had added something they remembered of Jane, the little prayer book which she was so fond of. This was then reflected in the Norris Portrait, as a copy of that portrait.

However, the engraving does not show any book.

Of course, it is not without the realm of possibility that the engravers could have left out the lower part of the Lumley-adjusted portrait, doing away with any potential book, as indeed the engraving omits part of the lady's arms and the hint of her cuffs that can be seen at the bottom of the Duckett Portrait.

This possible explanation did not satisfy me in the least, however.

It seemed at once too fantastical, too neat ... too pat.

Too convenient, somehow.

It took me a long time to think of something we have already experienced once in our forays into the portraiture of Lady Jane Grey.

What if it were the other way around?

What if, instead of the engraving being based on the Lumley Portrait, the Lumley Portrait was based on the engraving?

Ieanne Gray – Engraving

Lady Jane Grey –The Norris Portrait

If we compare the engraving and the Norris Portrait (which I believe is copy of the portrait in the Lumley Collection) certain details align almost staggeringly well.

The hairline, the forehead, the eyebrows, the dark circles under the eyes, the mouth, the nostrils which are more flared in both the engraving and the Norris Portrait than in the Duckett Portrait even the red of the cheeks in the Norris Portrait aligns perpectly with the shadowed effect of the engraving on the cheeks of the lady in the engraving.

What for a long time kept me from forming this as a serious theory, was that the lady in the engraving is turned to the right, while the lady in the Norris Portrait is turned to the left, just like the Duckett Portrait.

Should any copy of the engraving have fallen into their hands, however, they would have been free to do with it as they pleased, free of any embarrassment.

That the lady in the engraving is mirrored in reverse from the Duckett Portrait is only natural, that was often the way for engravings that were based on paintings.

However, if the Norris Portrait was painted after a portrait that was based on the engraving, the lady in the Norris Portrait should be facing the same way as the lady in the engraving, and she isn't, she is mirrored reversed from it.

For a long time this seemed to my mind to put a stop to any idea that the Norris Portrait could have come from a portrait type derived from the engraving, no matter the similarities.

Unless ... We, looking back, have a nasty habit of thinking the people of the past less sophisticated than we are.

If we are aware of that engravings were often in reverse, it stands to reason that the Lumleys, as owners of England's largest collection of portraits and art in their time, were also aware of this.

Could it be possible that they intentionally had the image reversed from the engraving, in order to bring their portrait closer to the original portrait?

Which they did not have access to?

If Lady Jane Grey did not give a miniature of herself to her cousin Jane Lumley (Perhaps she had no more to give? Or any of the myriad other reasons why something that could have happened did not happen), the Lumleys could very well have found themselves without access to a portrait of Lady Jane Grey after the events of 1554.

There is no evidence that the rest of the Greys ever thawed towards the FitzAlan Lumleys.

There has been some suggestion that part of the reason that Henry FitzAlan, Earl of Arundel defected from the side of Queen Jane was revenge towards Jane's immediate family because he still felt the slight of Henry Grey, then Marquis of Dorset jilting his sister in favour of Frances Brandon.

To my mind, it makes some difference whether Henry FitzAlan, Earl of Arundel's decision was based on ill-will towards Jane (or her family) or if he simply thought that this was a doomed cause and was terrified for himself and his own family. He may have even assumed that Jane would have been pardoned, as would indeed have probably happened if the foolhardiness of her father had not sealed her fate.

Such fine distinctions may have been lost in the heat of the moment, however, and there is no sign that what remained of the Grey family ever warmed up to him or his family.

So any portrait of Lady Jane Grey that was left with the Greys would have been inaccessible and lost to the Lumleys.

But the Duckett Portrait was owned by Lionel Duckett, Mayor of London. That seems blessfully neutral.

Well. Lionel Duckett was actually married to Jane Pakington, the cousin of the wife of one of Lady Jane Grey and Jane Lumley's cousins of the Grey connection, Francis Willoughby.

Francis Willoughby had been orphaned at an early age, and raised by George Medley, Margaret Wotton's son from her first marriage and the older half-brother of her Grey children. The events of 1554 directly impacted Francis Willoughby's life in that the Medleys could no longer afford to keep him and his siblings. The siblings were separated, and Francis's education sponsored by Frances Brandon, Duchess of Suffolk, the widow of Henry and mother of the late Jane.

No evidence exists that Francis Willoughby breached the family blockade against the FitzAlan Lumleys or would have had the slightest inclination to do so.

Neither Jane nor John Lumley seem to have been drama-prone people. It is entirely possible that they shrank from such a mortifying ordeal as explaining that they did not have a portrait of Lady Jane Grey and wished for it, opening themselves up for a refusal, a polite rejection, even more polite missives detailing delays which eventually would have resulted in the portrait never materialising, or causing a possible quarrel in the Duckett-Pakington-Willoughby-Grey family if Sir Lionel Duckett did acquiesce to their request.

Because both of the surviving children of Anne Grey, Lady Willoughby – Francis and Margaret – were drama-prone people.

Sir Lionel Duckett (and the Lumleys) may even have feared to put a further strain on the already volatile marriage of Francis Willoughby and his wife Elizabeth.

I do not know what kind of preparatory work went into producing a book of this kind back then and how long it would have taken. Finding the portraits of everybody they wanted to portray and having them engraved. As well as the kind of work that goes into producing any kind of book, then and now.

The book was published in 1580.

I do therefore not know if it is possible for an early preparatory engraving to have fallen into the hands of the Lumleys before the too-early death of Jane Lumley on the 27th of July 1578.

She seems to have been in reasonably good health until then. Several sources mention that she nursed her father «as his nursse and dearebeloved childe» until her own death. The Gentleman's Magazine

Henry Fitzalan, 19th Earl of Arundel did not die himself until the 24th of February 1580.

The other possibility is that John Lumley constructed the portrait alone.

He had married Jane FitzAlan before the 4th of March 1552, which meant that he had been Lady Jane Grey's cousin-in-law for two years by the time of her death.

And people were fond of Jane. Her ladies, mistress Ellen and Elizabeth Tilney, wept when they were with her at the scaffold. Heinrich Bullinger kept her letters. Bess of Hardwick kept a portrait of her in her bedchamber. Roger Ascham, her cousin Elizabeth's tutor who had known her from their shared time together in Katherine Parr's household, not only visited her and exchanged letters with her, but wrote of her many years after her death.

So my theory is that either Jane or John Lumley or the both of them saw an early copy or a preparatory version of the engraving, and recognised it as a genuine likeness of Lady Jane Grey. Perhaps they recognised the little pearl necklace, in the same way one might open a cupboard or a drawer and reach out one's hand and say, 'Remember ...' and close one's hand softly around the object.

From there on I suggest that they did the same thing that J. Stephan Edwards suggests that the Seymours did with the Syon Portrait – They took an existing image and adjusted it according to their memories of Lady Jane Grey.

In the Seymours case, this would have been the Berry-Hill Portrait of Jane's sister Lady Katherine Grey. The Lumleys did have a genuine image of Jane before them, but if the Norris Portrait really is based on the portrait that was once upon a time in the Lumley Collection, and that portrait really was based on the engraving, there are some interesting differences between the engraving (and the Duckett Portrait) and the Norris Portrait.

I have a already mentioned the presence of the little book, which is not in the Duckett Portrait nor in the engraving, but which does correspond to a treasured girdle prayer book actually owned by Lady Jane Grey, given to her in her girlhood and carried with her to the scaffold.

Now, of course, the presence of a book in the portraiture of Lady Jane Grey is neither particularly new nor revolutionary.

In fact, the presence of a book in portraits of ladies that have nothing whatsoever to do with Lady Jane Grey have often been used as a reason to re-christen those portraits as Lady Jane Grey.

There is just something about the way the lady in the Norris Portrait is the holding the book that is different than all the others. She is clutching it, while in the others, even the Streatham and Houghton portraits which is based on the same pattern, it is more of a prop. The lady in the Norris Portrait is also pressing the book against her stomach, as if for comfort. I can think of plenty of reasons why Lady Jane Grey might have needed comfort in her short life, and I didn't even know her.

The girdle prayer book is still existent and is today in the British Museum. It can be seen in a brief clip here: England's Forgotten Queen: The Life and Death of Lady Jane Grey.

Unfortunately, at some point in its past, the girdle prayer book lost its original binding, so even if a colour photograph of the Norris Portrait (or even better yet the Norris Portrait itself) should turn up, the girdle prayer book and the book in the Norris Portrait cannot be compared.

Of course, even provided that the Lumleys had remembered the book and wanted to include it, it is by no means certain that they would have remembered its exact appearance.

Still, should the Norris Portrait suddenly turn up, I for one would not have minded taking a closer look also on the book in the lady's hands.

 

Girdle Prayer Book – Perhaps Lady's Jane Grey's girdle prayer book was originally bound in a custom-made binding of gold similar to this one?

This girdle prayer book was owned by the daughter of Jane's friend Bess of Hardwick and her husband, Gilbert and Mary Talbot, the 7th Earl and Countess of Shrewsbury. Cryptic Sixteenth-Century Prayer Book Bespeaks Luxury and Scandal

The Streatham Portrait (detail)

The book in the Streatham Portrait is, oddly enough, not dissimilar to the book in the Fitzwilliam Portrait.

One of the oddest differences between the Streatham Portrait and the Houghton Portrait, which are otherwise very alike in composition, is the colour of the book in the lady's hand.

Both books have some sort of symbol in the middle, which is impossible to make out, perhaps because it does not mean anything. If the Lumleys were recreating the book from memory, it is possible that they remembered that there was some sort of decoration there, but not what it was.

Book detail – The Fitzwilliam Portrait (detail)

Interestingly, if I am right in my identification of the sitter in the Fitzwilliam Portrait, Katherine Brydges, Lady Dudley was the daughter of the man Lady Jane Grey left her girdle prayer book to, John Brydges, Lieutenant of the Tower of London.

Katherine Brygdes's husband, Edward Sutton, 4th Baron Dudley was a first cousin once removed of Lady Jane Grey, and also a cousin of her husband, Lord Guildford Dudley[16].

The D of the book would have been equally appropriate for Lady Jane Grey, daughter of the Marquis of Dorset, as it would have have been for Lady Jane Dudley, and as it would have been for Katherine, Lady Dudley.

The Fitzwilliam Portrait was painted c. 1555–1556, a year or two after Lady Jane Grey's death in February 1554, when she handed her precious girdle prayer book to Thomas Brydges, the deputy lieutenant of the Tower, who had been charged with passing it on to her father. 

Within that same year it ended up with Thomas's brother and Katherine's father, John Brydges, Lieutenant of the Tower of London.

The girdle prayer book remained in the Brydges family until about 1700.

1. I first became aware of your research into Lady Jane Grey in an article in The Sunday Times in 2005; this was followed by the article in History Today (A New Face for the Lady). In these you suggested that a portrait at the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge (previously labelled as ‘formerly Mary I when Princess), was perhaps Jane Grey. How did you discover this portrait?

I first saw the painting in the summer of 2000, during which I was at Gonville and Caius College as a study-abroad student at the University of Cambridge. But it was not until the spring of 2005 that I was able to return to the Fitzwilliam, meet with curators Dr Scrace and Dr Munro, and investigate the painting in a formal manner. It was primarily the ‘D’ (for Dorset?) on the prayerbook that attracted me. Now, of course, I have been completely persuaded that the painting is not Jane Grey. The Fitzwilliam portrait was my first foray into portrait research, and it was an invaluable learning experience. Stephan Edwards (Portraits) – Lady Jane Grey Reference Guide

The Houghton Portrait (detail)

But if you look at colour photograph of the Houghton Portrait on p. 54 of J. Stephan Edwards's book A Queen of a New Invention, you will see that unlike the Streatham portrait, the book in the Houghton Portrait is red.

In fact, the colour matches pretty closesly the colour of the outer edges of the girdle prayer book in the Fitzwilliam Portrait.

Just as the colour of the book in the Streatham Portrait matches pretty closely to the rest of the book.

Yes, it would have been very interesting to see a colour photograph of the Norris Portrait indeed.

There is obviously some connection between Norris Portrait, the Streatham Portrait and the Houghton Portrait other than purely the Duckett Portrait itself or even the engraving.

The jewellery in the Norris Portrait, the Streatham Portrait and the Houghton Portrait are more like each other than the jewellery in the engraving, for example.

All three portraits have incorporated the jewellery added by the engraving, the brooch and the pendant hanging from the necklace, which is not present in the Duckett Portrait.

But for the added brooches and pendants to look more like each other than the ones in the engraving, that requires another mutual source or a familiarity on the behalf of the creators of the Streatham Portrait and the Houghton Portrait with the Norris Portrait, or vice versa.

Lady Jane Grey – The Streatham Portrait

There are, however, some differences between the types of portraits as well.

The Streatham and the Houghton portraits on the one side, and the Norris and the Magdalene or Dauntsey portraits on the other.

One is the position of the hands.

The ladies in the Streatham Portrait and the Houghton Portrait are both holding books.

As is the lady in the Dauntsey or the Magdalene Portrait and lady in the Norris Portrait.

But the hands are positioned differently in the two types.

Lady Jane Grey – The Houghton Portrait

The interesting thing is that the lady's hands in the Dauntsey or the Magdalene Portrait is positioned exactly like the lady's hands in the Norris Portrait, but not like the lady in the Streatham Portrait

If you look at the Duckett Portrait, the cuffs of the Norris and the Magdalene portraits align perfectly with the cuffs in the Duckett Portrait, which you can only see a hint of.

This has led me to believe that if the Lumley Portrait was based on the Ieanne Gray-engraving, and the Norris Portrait on the Lumley Portrait, the Lumleys must have had access to some early drawing/version of the engraving, in which the hint of cuffs are included, because they are not included in the version of the engraving available to us today.

Lady Jane Grey – The Dauntsey or Magdalene Portrait

The Norris Portrait of Lady Jane Grey

The second difference is the dress.

This is not so readily apparent to us, because all we have of the Norris Portrait are two bad photographs in black and white. This underplays the difference of the two dresses, while creating a visually similar impression to the Duckett Portrait and the engraving, and Lady Jane Grey's all-black dress in those.

Herbert Norris, however, who had actually seen the painting in colour, being the owner of it, described it and Lady Jane Grey thusly:

«In appearance she was petite: her face was what we should call to-day pretty, with small features, well-shaped nose, light hazel eyes, and auburn hair. She possessed firmness, capacity, and knowledge of affairs. Her learning in divinity and religious controversial subjects acquired under her tutors, Roger Ascham and John Aylmer, Bishop of London, was profound. Gentle, affectionate, firm as a rock where any principle was concerned, she would have made an ideal queen-consort and a perfect queen-regnant.»

«In adversity she displayed great nobility and beauty of character. Lady Jane's First appearance in public was made at the age of fourteen when she accompanied her mother, the Duchess of Suffolk, of the occasion of the visit of Mary of Guise, the Dowager-Queen of Scotland, to Greenwich Palace. She afterwards became the guest of the Princess Mary. On 21st May 1553 the Lady Jane married Guyldeford, fourth son of John Dudley, created Earl of Warwick in 1547, and Duke of Northumberland in 1551. She was proclaimed Queen in London, 10th July 1553, but nine days later her reign was at an end; after imprisonment in the Tower, both she and her husband were executed 12th February 1554.»

«The drawing (Fig. 515) is made from an original portrait of this lady. Her dress is of nasturtium-red velvet with sleeves turned back showing a deep peacock-blue lining. The yoke and false sleeve are of the same blue in satin with a cornflower design worked in gold. Spanish work decorates the inside of the open collar to match the wrist-frills and above it is a second collar of white gauze embroidered with red silk. (Refer to Fig. 541 for details of the French hood.)» Tudor Costume and Fashion by Herbert Norris

If you follow the link, you will see another sketch Herbert Norris drew of the Norris Portrait.

It is not the watercolour we are all well familiar with by now, but a different sketch.

You will notice that in her hand, the lady in the sketch is holding a book with a startling resemblance to the book in the Fizwilliam Portrait.

Lady Jane Grey – The Norris Portrait

Called Jane Shore – Portrait Miniature on Ivory by C. B. Currie

In spite of only having two bad black and white photographs of the Norris Portrait, we still have some clues to how it looks like in colour.

When I first saw this portrait miniature on ivory and read the description in the Sotheby's catalogue, I thought and fervently hoped that this was the image which is referred to in the Folger catalogue as being from 1714: 

«The Tragedy of Jane Shore. Written in Imitation of Shakespear's Style. London: Printed for Bernard Lintott, [1714]» [...]

«First edition of this play, in an elegant Cosway binding, with a large portrait miniature on ivory by C. B. Currie, set into each cover. Nicholas Rowe (1674-1718) is primarily known for his tragedies, his edition of Shakespeare's plays (1609), and his translation of Lucan's Pharsalia. Brown crushed morocco, wide-spaced double-fillet border with gilt roll-tooled leaves surrounding a recessed frame of gilt-ruled rays, and a central frame of gilt roseate and lyre tools around the miniatures, gilt-stamped turn-ins, olive green watered-silk doublures and endleaves, edges gilt, by Rivière & Son, gilt-stamped in upper doublure "Miniatures by C.B. Currie," in a black half-calf slipcase and chemise.» Property from the Collections of Lily & Edmond J. Safra – Volumes I-VI –Sotheby's

A little research, however, soon revealed that rather than dating from 1714, the miniature in the book binding dated from the early 20th century, more than a hundred years after the watercolour based on the engraving from 1790:

The Context: In the early 20th century John Harrison Stonehouse, managing director of London’s renowned bookshop Sotheran’s, hired the illustrious Rivière bindery to create bindings with miniatures embedded. They employed Miss C.B. Currie to imitate the style of the famed miniaturist Richard Cosway and named the technique Cosway binding. The painter Cosway, who died in 1821, never created a Cosway binding himself. The Secret Language of Rare Books: Cosway-Style Bindings by Rebecca Romney

This exquisite little miniature, however, like the watercolour of the engraving that it is undoubtedly based on, can still give us a hint of how the Norris Portrait looks like in colour.

On my Lady Jane Grey page I suggest that the dress the lady in the Streatham Portrait is wearing is in fact Queen Mary I Tudor's very famous dress from her iconic and much-copied portrait by Anthonis Mor.

The dress the lady in the Norris Portrait is wearing is clearly not that dress.

The dresses of both portraits have elements of the dress in the original Duckett Portrait and the Ieanne Gray-engraving, but the very decorative gold embroidery of the Norris Portrait is wholly absent from the dress in the Streatham Portrait.

So, they are clearly of a different origin.

If the Lumleys created their picture of Lady Jane Grey of the basis of the engraving and their rememberings of her, the dress in the Norris Portrait could be one they remembered her wearing.

My first, admittedly, very fanciful thought, was that it was Lady Jane Grey's wedding dress.

However, her wedding dress appears to have been made of cloth of gold and silver.

In fact, the first source we have of the marriage between Lady Jane Grey and Lord Guildford Dudley is a warrant dated the 24th of April 1553 to deliver wedding apparel to the bride and groom, parcels of tissues and cloth of gold and silver. Richard Davey and the Wedding of Lady Jane Grey – Lady Jane Grey Reference Guide

The problem with it being another dress worn by Lady Jane Grey and thus remembered by the Lumleys, is, of course, Lady Jane Grey's reputation for dressing austerely.

We all remember the story of how she shunned her cousin Princess Mary's gifts of rich clothing, 'wishing to follow her cousin Elizabeth's example instead'.

J. Stephan Edwards initally expressed doubts about this legend that she dressed plainly, before concluding that it was probably true, and perfectly in keeping with a certain fashion style of the time, worn by many of her peers, amongst them her young step-grandmother Katherine Willoughby, Dowager Duchess of Suffok.

However, that might have been true of the Lady Jane Grey who walked to the scaffold.

It had not always been the case.

And Jane Lumley had been Jane Grey's cousin for all of their lives.

«In a letter to the continental Protestant reformer Heinrich Bullinger dated 23 December 1551, Aylmer asked Bullinger to write to Jane instructing her ‘as to what embellishment and adornment of person is most becoming in young women professing godliness’. In contrast to the account as it appeared in Strype, Aylmer actually suggested to Bullinger that he (Bullinger)

bring forward [to Jane] the example of our king’s sister, the princess Elizabeth, who goes clad in every respect as becomes a young maiden; and yet no one [i.e., not even Jane] is induced by the example of so illustrious a lady, and in so much gospel light, to lay aside, much less look down upon, gold, jewels, and braidings of the hair.

Aylmer pleaded with Bullinger to ‘handle these points at some length, [so that] there will probably, through your influence, be some accession to the ranks of virtue’ made by Jane in future. Aylmer would hardly have needed to enlist Bullinger’s influence had Lady Jane already been in conformity with his own proto-Puritan expectations.» A Life Framed in Portraits: An Early Portrait of Mary Nevill Fiennes, Lady Dacre by J. Stephan Edwards

When you lose someone you have loved all your life, and who has loved you all your life, you do not lose them just as they are then, you lose all that they have been and all that they ever will be as well.

On that February day in 1554, Jane Lumley did not just lose the seventeen-year-old Jane, who had been growing closer to her husband[17], but who probably still hated her mother-in-law, she lost the Jane she had been children with, the Jane she had been girls with, the Jane who would have gone on walks with her after life's other losses, and with whom she would probably have squabbled over the finer points of Greek translation into old age.

While it is true that those we love never truly leave us, death is nevertheless a very tangible door between two people.

Only 18 short months before Jane's ill-fated reign from the 10th of July until the 19th of July 1553, Lady Jane Grey's tutor John Aylmer was complaining about her interest in fashion.

This suggests that at least up until that time she could very well have been in possession of a dress of the kind shown in the Norris Portrait.

Jane Shore – Portrait Miniature on Ivory by C. B. Currie

Portrait of a Woman, previously identified as Jane Shore (d1527?) c.1580

«British school, Turdor

Oil on panel | 99.0 x 75.0 cm

Description

This portrait was previously identified as Jane Shore (d.1527), mistress of Edward IV. On the basis of style and clothing however it can be dated to c.1580 and therefore this previous identification has now been discounted. The sitter wears a red silk bodice with a dark overgown, and a wide linen ruff set into very deep figure-of-eight pleats.

Provenance

Purchased by Frederick, Prince of Wales as part of the collection of early portraits, formerly in the collection of Lady Capel, which were acquired at Kew. Recorded at Kensington in 1818.»

Portrait of a Woman, previously identified as Jane Shore (d1527?) c.1580 – The Royal Collection

Portrait of a Woman, previously identified as Jane Shore (d1527?) c.1580

It is my belief that this portrait was painted by the same person who painted the Grimsthorpe Portrait.

If you look at the flame red of the bodice in the Jane Shore portrait, this is exactly the same flame red as in the sleeves of the lady in the Grimsthorpe Portrait.

The dark background and the technique is precisely the same, as far as I can gather, as the one in the Grimsthorpe Portrait.

I am at a loss as to what this could mean as of yet.

Lady Jane Grey – The Grimsthorpe Portrait

I have even begun to wonder if this portrait of Mary Rogers, Lady Harington could have been painted by the same painter. The shininess of the fabric of parts of her dress, so unusual in paintings from this time (later, in the 1600's and 1700's this would be used to great effect in paintings) that I have only ever encountered it in these three, and the ruff of Jane Shore and Lady Harington is practically identical, down to some see-through effects at the bottom part of it which is also very distinctive.

Mary Rogers, Lady Harington (c.1565 – 1634)

If the cryptic statement under provenance in the Royal Collection (which has already led me to chase after two wrong Lady Capels) is meant to indicate that this portrait came to the Royal Collection after Frederick, Prince of Wales's acquisition of Kew Palace, the Lady Capel referred to must be Dorothy, daughter Richard Bennett and wife of Henry Capel, 1st Baron Capell of Tewkesbury (1638 – 1696).

The house the Capels lived in at Kew Gardens was an inheritance from Dorothy's father, Richard Bennett. I cannot find any connection between the Bennetts and the old families, while there are plenty of connections in the family tree of Henry Capel.

The painting may of course also have been bought to be a part of their collection at any time.

The reason this portrait is interesting, besides it likely being by the same hand as the Grimsthorpe Portrait, is its incription:

[Shore's?] WIFE MISTRIS TO A KING

Compare this to the entry in the Lumley inventory:

Of Shores wyfe concubyne to K: Edw: 4.

The Lumley Inventory

The painting in the Lumley Collection must be the same portrait that is registered in the Arundell Collection in 1655 as:

714. Joan Shorr, advocate.

The Life, Correspondence & Collections of Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel by Mary Frederica Sophia Hervey

Henry Capel, 1st Baron Capell of Tewkesbury (1638 – 1696) was the son of Arthur Capell, 1st Baron Capell of Hadham and Elizabeth Morrison.

«The picture by Sir Peter Lely may have been painted on the occasion of Capel's marriage to Dorothy Bennett in 1659. He has been described as 'naturally vain, as well as a weak man'.» The Earls of Essex: A Tale of Noble Misfortune by Robert Bard

His paternal grandparents were Sir Henry Capell, of Rayne Hall, Essex, and his wife Theodosia Montagu, daughter of Sir Edward Montagu of Boughton House, Northamptonshire and Elizabeth Harrington, daughter of James Harington of Exton, Rutland.

Henry Capel, 1st Baron Capell of Tewkesbury (1638 – 1696) by Sir Peter Lely

Through this connection he was a second cousin of the Frances Montagu who married John Manners, 8th Earl of Rutland (10 June 1604 – 29 September 1679). They had seven children:

 

This may or may not be important.

What is certain is that all of these people lived their lives within the same window of allotted time as Henry Capel.

His mother Elizabeth Morrison was the daughter and sole heiress of Sir Charles Morrison and Mary Hicks, daughter of Baptist Hicks, 1st Viscount Campden.

Elizabeth Morrison with her husband Arthur Capell, 1st Baron Capell and their children. Painting by Cornelius Johnson

Frances Manners, Countess of Exeter, c. 1646, by Samuel Cooper

Frances, Countess of Exeter, nee Manners, by Samuel Cooper (1609-1672), circa 1646

«Her mid brown hair falling to her shoulders and adorned with a pearl clip, wearing a low-cut cream gown and a pink drape held by a pearl-set jewel, sky background, oval 8cm, gold frame with scroll surmount.

Frances Manners (c.1630 – c.1663) was the first wife of the 4th Earl of Exeter and mother of the 5th Earl, sometimes styled the Travelling Earl.

Provenance: Elizabeth, Countess of Devonshire, nee Cecil, her will, proved 13th November 1690 (‘a picture of his Countesse sett in Gold in a Large Ovall by Cooper’), by whom given to her daughter, Anne, Countess of Exeter.

Thence by descent.»

Frances, Countess of Exeter, nee Manners, by Samuel Cooper (1609-1672), circa 1646 – The Burghley Collections

As we see, Elizabeth Cecil, Countess of Devonshire, owned a miniature of Frances Manners, Countess of Exeter, and passed it down to her daughter and Frances's daughter-in-law Anne Cavendish, Countess of Exeter.

Portrait of a Woman, previously identified as Jane Shore (d1527?) c.1580

Elizabeth Woodville, Queen of England

If you compare the "cap" on the lady in the Jane Shore portrait with the headdress Elizabeth Woodville is wearing, it makes me wonder if headdress the lady in the Jane Shore painting is wearing is, in fact, also a henin.

The earliest instance I have seen of the type of hat she is wearing is from 1590's, a full decade after the ruff which is firmly dateable to the 1580's, making me wonder if the hat is, in fact, a later addition.

Also, the bodice doesn't seem to be as tightly laced as the bodice of women's wear was in Elizabethan times. It seems to follow more the body's curves.

Mary Rogers, Lady Harington

As we can see here in this portrait of Mary Rogers, Lady Harington, wearing a similar ruff, Elizabethan women were laced very tightly indeed.

The Fashions of the Miniature

Lady Jane Grey – The Miniature

Lady Le Strange, 1551, by Hans Eworth

The Coat

Katherine Hyde, Lady le Strange is seen in a similar coat to the girl in the miniature in her portrait from 1551 by Hans Eworth.

A Girl, formerly thought to be Queen Elizabeth I as Princess, 1549, by Levina Teerlinc

A similar coat can be seen on:

A Girl, formerly thought to be Queen Elizabeth I as Princess

1549

Levina Teerlinc

Victoria and Albert Museum | P.21-1954

 

«'Lady Elizabeth aged 17 Born 1532 Died 1602 by Holben' Inscribed on the back in a later hand

(heavily over-painted)»

The girl in this miniature dated 1549 is also wearing a ruff, but a different kind to the girl in the possible Lady Jane Grey miniature.

I myself have entertained the idea that this miniature is another version of the Katherine Grey miniature in the V&A Museum, the one I believe was formerly in the Lumley Collection. To my surprise and joy the conservators at the V&A Museum (where both miniatures are currently located) also believed that the sitter in this miniature was a member of the Grey family, though perhaps not necessarily Katherine.

Sadly, the heavily overpainted nature of the miniature makes it difficult to make any assertions regarding fashion based on it. I would, however, believe that coat is original, based on the similarity in technique to other coats painted by the same hand, but I am less certain about the ruff.

Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford and 1st Duke of Somerset (c. 1500 – 22 January 1552)

The Ruff

The ruff admittedly gave me pause. I was uncertain whether it could date from Lady Jane Grey's lifetime, and even more so if it could date from 1549 or from 1547–1548 when Lady Jane Grey lived with Katherine Parr. Henry VIII's last Queen was fond of children and portrait painting, and could easily have wished for a miniature to be painted of her husband's young ward.

All of her three royal step-children had their portraits painted in the time Katherine Parr was their step-mother.

However, this portrait of Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford and 1st Duke of Somerset (c. 1500 – 22 January 1552), dated tentatively to the 1540's (probably on account of the sitter's younger appearance than in some portraits), features the exact same ruff as the little miniature.

Since Edward Seymour, 1st Duke of Somerset was executed in 1552, two years before Jane, the portrait must necessarily date to her lifetime.

The Greys and the Seymours also moved in the same circles, there has even been talk of there being plans to marry Jane to his eldest son.

Art historian Roy Strong has discounted the identification of this portrait as of Edward Seymour, 1st Duke of Somerset. On the other hand, he supports the portrait below as authentically him:

Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford and 1st Duke of Somerset (c. 1500 – 22 January 1552)

As we can see, this portrait features an identical ruff.

Furthermore, it looks as if Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey (1516/1517 – 19 January 1547) is sporting the same (or a very) ruff in the famous, fully authenticated portrait of him firmly dated to 1546 and attributed to William Scrots.

Sadly, becacuse of the size of the painting and the resolution of the photograph of it, it is impossible to say for completely certain, but the ruff does look identical or near to it.

Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey (1516/1517 – 19 January 1547)

Henry Howard Earl of Surrey, 1546, by Williams Scrots (detail)

In the close-up you can see the ruff even better. Again, it is difficult to say for certain, due to size of the painting and the resolution of the photograph, but it does look similar.

It does look as if this particular ruff or collar may have been the fashion among the upper classes in the late 1540's, just when I speculate that Lady Jane Grey may have had a miniature painted of her whilst in the care of Queen Dowager Katherine Parr, which she may have presented as a gift to her goddaughter Temperance Cavendish, the daughter of family friend Bess of Hardwick, who we know was in possession of a portrait of Jane.

«Datable on the basis of costume to the late 1540s or early 1550s, this small portrait is a rare survival of a type known in Northern Europe as a kapsel portrait. The turned reverse of the present portrait and the rim still present on the obverse suggest that the work would have originally been hidden by a matching lid, now missing. The kapsel portrait functioned in a similar way to the portrait miniature or limning, still in its infancy as a portrait type in the mid-16th century when the present work would have been commissioned. Painted in oil on wood, kapsel portraits were portable and concealed behind a lid – they were therefore intimate objects in the same vein as the watercolour miniature.»

«The present portrait probably represents a lady of the court during the final years of the reign of Henry VIII. Her wealth is subtly declared through the biliments or hat jewels on her French hood, the gold aiglets piercing the austere black fabric on her shoulders and the heavy gold chain at her neck. Her pose and demeanour are close to the portraits of Queen consort Catherine Howard (circa 1518-1542) painted during the late 1530s. From the gold necklace at the sitter’s neck it might tentatively be suggested that she is in the employ of royal or noble household as a gentlewoman or lady in waiting, as such chains were a conventional gift, enabling monetary reward to be combined with a symbol of attachment.»

Lady Jane Grey – The Grimsthorpe Portrait and Jane Shore

According to J. Stephan Edwards's assessment of the Grimsthorpe Portrait, «Past assessors of the painting have on occasion questioned the age of the work. The authors of several handwritten notes affixed to the reverse of the panel reveal that each independently concluded that the painting technique seen in this picture was inconsistent with that of the sixteenth century. The consensus among those assessors dated the paintwork to the late eighteenth or early nineteenth century. Yet the technique exhibited in the jewels and costume are entirely consistent with that seen in other English paintings authentically dating to the middle of the sixteenth century. Only the face appears inconsistent with sixteenth-century technique, that it is perhaps more likely that an early attempt to "restore" and to "improve" the paintwork of the face resulted in a confusing appearance.» A Queen of a New Invention, by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 118

If the Grimsthorpe Portrait is indeed an actual painting of Lady Jane Grey (as I have come to believe that it is), the question is: Is it another portrait painted from life or is it a copy (or an elaboration) of another portrait?

According to Leo Gooch in his A Complete Pattern of Nobility: John, Lord Lumley (c.1534-1609) some of the pictures in the Lumley Collection were bequeathed to Robert Cecil, 1st Earl of Salisbury. His granddaughter, Lady Elizabeth Cecil, the daughter of his son William Cecil, 2nd Earl of Salisbury, married William Cavendish, 3rd Earl of Devonshire. They were the parents of Lady Anne Cavendish, Countess of Exeter, whose first husband was the eldest and only son of the Earl of Warwick. Lady Anne Cavendish, Countess of Exeter, was the great-grandmother of Lady Elizabeth Cecil Sutton Chaplin and Brownlow Cecil, 9th Earl of Exeter.

I am wondering if this is a red herring, though. Instead, there is another interesting link between the Cecils and the Capels and Lady Jane Grey.

Lady Jane Grey's uncle, Lord John Grey of Pirgo, was one of the few family members still standing after the events of 1554.

He too had been convicted for high treason for his involvement in Wyatt's rebellion alongside his brothers Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk and Lord Thomas Grey, but his wife and her family's close friendship with Mary I Tudor saved his life.

Two of his children were:

  • Henry Grey, 1st Baron Grey of Groby, eldest son and heir, seated at Pirgo Place, who re-established the Grey family presence both at court and at their ancestral domains including Bradgate and Groby in Leicestershire. His grandson was Henry Grey, 1st Earl of Stamford.
  • Margaret Grey, wife of Sir Arthur Capell of Hadham, Sheriff of Hertfordshire in 1592, reputed to have had eleven sons and nine daughters. She was the ancestor of the Barons Capell of Hadham later Earls of Essex.

 

Henry Grey, 1st Earl of Stamford married Lady Anne Cecil, daughter of William Cecil, 2 nd Earl of Exeter. Due to some tragedies, the 3rd Earl of Exeter (and the ancestor of Lady Elizabeth Cecil Sutton Chaplin and Brownlow Cecil, 9 th Earl of Exeter) was Lady Anne's cousin, not her brother.

Strangely enough, Lord John Grey of Pirgo was one of the few people who might have been in possession of both a portrait of Lady Jane Grey and Jane Shore.

His devotion to his family can be gathered not only from the fact that he was willing to die for them, but also how he named his children for his lost family: Henry, Margaret, Frances, Elizabeth, Jane ...

As her uncle he could easily have been the recipient of a portrait of Jane from her in happier times, or come by one of her when nearly all of their family was gone. 

Lord John Grey of Pirgo's grandfather Thomas Grey, 1st Marquis of Dorset was the lover of Jane Shore, as was his step-great-grandfather Edward IV and his other step-great-grandfather William Hastings, 1st Baron Hastings.

If anyone were inclined to order a portrait of Jane Shore, it might have been one of her rich and powerful lovers, who were all very devoted to her.

She must also have had a strong friendship with Elizabeth Woodville, the wife of Edward IV and mother of Thomas Grey, 1st Marquis of Dorset respectively, for Jane Shore to risk so much for her in order to help Elizabeth Woodville and her daughters in the (ultimately very successful) plot of replacing Richard III with Henry VII.

So even Elizabeth Woodville might have been in possession of a portrait of her old friend, the mistress of her husband, son and of the step-father of her daughter-in-law.

By way of inheritance it might have wandered from any of these people to Lord John Grey of Pirgo, especially after so much of the Grey family was obliterated in 1554.

This theory is, however, dependent on the Grimsthorpe Portrait moving sideways rather than the more traditionally thought of linear way once more in its history.

We know that it did for certain once.

From Sophia Matilda Wright Heathcote to her sister-in-law, Clementina Drummond Willoughby Heathcote, 24th Baroness Willougby de Eresby.

The portrait had in all likelihood been a dying bequest from Sophia Matilda's mother Sophia Frances Chaplin Wright to her daughter.

Sophia Frances Chaplin Wright may have received the portrait as a gift from her aunt-by-marriage, Lady Elizabeth Cecil Chaplin. The two women had a shared interest in painting. Two paintings the two of them executed together are still in existence in the Burghley Collection.

Lady Elizabeth Cecil Chaplin may have been gifted the Grimsthorpe Portrait by her brother, Brownlow Cecil, 9th Earl of Exeter, a childless widower. She was his favourite sister. We know that he gave her a handsome portrait of himself. In addition, he donated handsomely to the British Museum, clearly not being overly invested in all of his art remaining in the principal estate of the family.

The last time the portrait must have moved sideways instead of linearly according to our theory was from Henry Grey, 1st Earl of Stamford (c. 1599–1673) to his wife's family, the Cecil Earls of Exeter.

Either as a gift outright, or for some sort of pecuniary incentive.

Between the time Henry Grey, 1st Earl of Stamford married Lady Anne Cecil c.1620 (based upon the approximate year of birth of their first child) and until his death in 1673, there were four Earls of Exeter or people who would one day hold that title.

His father-in-law William Cecil, 2nd Earl of Exeter (1566–1640), his wife's cousin David Cecil, 3rd Earl of Exeter (c. 1600–1643), his wife's cousin's son John Cecil, 4th Earl of Exeter (1628–1678), and his wife's cousin's grandson John Cecil, 5th Earl of Exeter (c. 1648–1700), the Travelling Earl who married our Lady Anne Cavendish, whose first husband was the eldest and only son of the Earl of Warwick, and became the great-grandparents of Brownlow and Elizabeth Cecil.

«At least three early copies of the Wrest Park Portrait are documented, though the locations of only two are known today. Of the two known, the first and presumed earliest was produced in the middle of the eighteenth century for Harry Grey (1715-1768), 4th Earl of Stamford. It was held at Enville Hall until the beginning of the twentieth century, when it was removed to Dunham Massey at the behest of Roger Grey, 10th Earl of Stamford.» A Queen of a New Invention, by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 193 (This portrait)

This suggests to me, like the Seymours creation of the Syon Portrait, that by the middle of the eighteenth century, the Greys were no longer in possession of a genuine portrait of Lady Jane Grey. This is in itself odd. Lord John Grey of Pirgo was one of the few adults walking out of the situation alive in 1554, and he came into possession of Bradgate, Lady Jane Grey's childhood home, already in 1563.

Reason dictates that if anybody had a genuine portrait of her, he would be the most likely candidate.

Yet, in the middle of the eighteenth century, in possession of the same property, his descendants did not.

Or had they had one and traded it away?

In a move worthy of his forebear, Henry Grey, 1st Duke of Suffolk, Henry Grey, 1st Earl of Stamford, managed to be on the winning side of the English Civil War and still be reduced to poverty.

The Cecil Earls of Exeter fared the treacherous waters of the Civil War much better, financially.

The fifth Earl of Exeter, for instance, was a notable Grand Tourist and filled his family home, Burghley House, with treasures purchased on his travels in 1679, 1681 and 1699 in Italy. He purchased 300 works of art during his 22 years in Burghley and spent on his last visit to Europe £5,000 (c. £535,000 in 2017 currency).

It is interesting to note, but probably of no matter, that Lord Exeter married Lady Anne, daughter of William Cavendish, 3rd Earl of Devonshire, in circa 1670, three years before the death of Henry Grey, 1st Earl of Stamford.

The Cavendishes, who had their own portrait of Lady Jane Grey, which they were not willing to alienate from the principal estate of the family.

Lady Anne Cavendish, whose first husband was the eldest and only son of the Earl of Warwick, who may instead have brought with her a copy of this portrait, the Ansty Hall Miniature Portrait.

Perhaps the Lady Jane Grey was of some particular importance to her, the way the images we grow up with often are.

And Lady Jane Grey too had married a son of the Earl of Warwick.

The Portrait Called Jane Shore

Alright, according to some entries in the Royal Collection there is another candidate for Lady Capel.

According to the entry for the portrait of Emperor Maximilian I «[t]his portrait was acquired as part of a set at the same time as the purchase of Kew Palace. Provenance Acquired with other historical portraits in 1731 when Frederick Prince of Wales purchased the lease of Kew House from Samuel Molyneux, husband of Lady Elizabeth Capel (d. 1731).»

This Elizabeth is the same Elizabeth mentioned in the Wikipedia article as the great-niece Lady Capel left Kew House to, but the Wikipedia article omits to mention that Elizabeth was actually Lady Capel's great-niece-by-marriage, the great-niece of her husband, and thus actually a Capel herself. Lady Elizabeth Capel's father was Algernon Capell, 2nd Earl of Essex. Her first husband was Samuel Molyneux, her second husband Nathaniel St. André.

Her taste in men seems to have been ... interesting.

What practical difference this makes is uncertain. Lady Elizabeth Capell through her father would naturally have been related to all the same people that her great-uncle was.

In addition, there is her mother's and her grandmother's line.

If anything, her parents even were closer in status to the Cecil Earls of Exeter and the Cavendish Earls and Dukes of Devonshire and even more likely to move in the same circles.

And again, the portrait could naturally have been purchased at any time.

We must also allow for the possibility that the difference in the entries in the Royal Collection is that the portrait called Jane Shore came from a collection that had been known to have belonged to Dorothy Bennett, Lady Capel.

According to History of Parliament Online Dorothy Bennett, Lady Capel died in 1721. Any changes in the collection must have taken place between that time and the death of Samuel Molyneux in 1728.

Since Samuel Molyneux died in 1728, any transactions must necessarily have been conducted prior to that time.

So we know the portrait called Jane Shore must predate 1728. Any attempt to date it based on the centemporary popularity of its sitter is hopeless, however. 

Thomas More, writing when Shore was very old, declared that even then an attentive observer might discern in her shriveled countenance traces of her former beauty.

She is a significant character in The True Tragedy of Richard III, an anonymous play written shortly before Shakespeare's Richard III. 'Mistress Shore' is frequently mentioned in William Shakespeare's play, Richard III, believed to have been written around 1593. The story of Jane Shore's wooing by Edward IV, her influence in court, and her tragic death in the arms of Matthew Shore is the main plot in a play by Thomas Heywood, Edward IV printed in 1600. The Tragedy of Jane Shore by Nicholas Rowe is a 1714 play.

A Conspicuous Courtesan By daseger

There were five women of the older generation who lived through the Wars of the Roses recorded in the Lumley Inventory: Elizabeth Woodville (c. 1437 – 8 June 1492), Jane Shore (c. 1445 – c. 1527), Margaret of Anjou ( 23 March 1430 – 25 August 1482), Margaret Beaufort (31 May 1441/3 – 29 June 1509) and Margaret Beauchamp, Countess of Shrewsbury (1404 – 14 June 1467).

This suggests that Jane Shore was already a popular and famous character in Thomas More's day and still a popular and famous character in the 1590's when a portrait of her was in the Lumley Collection.

The Tragedy of Jane Shore by Nicholas Rowe was published in 1714, a year we can see is very close to 1728. 

In short, in every year from her own lifetime to 1728 there might have been an interest from a member of the public to possess a portrait of her.

What would have been very interesting was to know if the inscription on the painting was original to it or a later addition.

Because if the inscription dates to the painting of the portrait, that means that it was painted as a representation of Jane Shore, not misattributed later, and that is interesting in itself.

Furthermore, it would be interesting to see if the 'anachronistic details' are a part of the original painting, or if they were added later on.

Because, remove the hat and cloak, and you would pretty much have a lady dressed in Wars of the Roses fashion.

Lastly, it would have been interesting to see the result of a dendrochronological analysis.

Esther Inglis (1569–1624)

Esther Inglis (1569–1624), Calligrapher and miniaturist

1595

Oil on panel | 32.30 x 23.10 cm

Scottish National Portrait Gallery | PG 3556

 

 

While the portrait of a lady called Jane Shore and the portrait of Mary Rogers, Lady Harington are undated (an erroneous date inscription AÑO DÑ 1533 was added or altered well after the Harrington Portrait was created), we do have one painting of a lady with the same type of ruff and a very similar hat to the lady in the portrait called Jane Shore which is clearly dated to 1595.

(Unlike the portrait called Jane Shore, you will notice that this has all the period typical details, the cone-shaped bodice and the drab little cap that goes with the ugly hat.)

It would be very interesting if both dendrochronological analysis confirmed that this portrait was painted around 1595 and technical analysis showed that the inscription was original to the portrait.

While, as I have written, there does not seem to have been a time when Jane Shore was *not* popular, it is possible to argue that she enjoyed a particular surge of popularity in the years around 1595.

Shakespeare's Richard III is believed to have been written around 1593. Jane Shore is a significant character in The True Tragedy of Richard III, an anonymous play written shortly before Shakespeare's Richard III. On the 28th August 1599 was licensed the play History of the Life and Death of Master Shore and Jane Shore his Wife.

An important event to both the Greys of Bradgate and the Capells took place around the same time. In 1592, Margaret Grey, daughter of John Grey of Pirgo, was the wife of Sir Arthur Capell of Hadham, Sheriff of Hertfordshire.

She was reputed to have had eleven sons and nine daughters. She was the ancestor of the Barons Capell of Hadham later Earls of Essex.

Above I have suggested that the Grimsthorpe Portrait of Lady Jane Grey was a wedding present from John Cecil, 5th Earl of Exeter to his bride Lady Anne Cavendish in 1670.

Here I suggest that a copy of the portrait of Jane Shore that I suggest was in the Greys' possession at Bradgate was given to Margaret Grey and Sir Arthur Capell as a wedding present.

Or, they may have commissioned a copy for themselves, as we by now have seen many examples of were done by new branches off of the family tree.

While this would explain both the inscription and the creation of this portrait in the mid-1590's, it does not explain the added 1590's elements, the hat and the cloak.

While I have speculated earlier that these elements may have been added at a later time, well after the creation of actual the portrait itself (which could speak to the portrait dating to earlier than the mid-1590's), if also these elements were an original part of the picture, it could be possible that they were added to make the painting more 'cool' and 'modern' for the young people.

The debate about historical accuracy versus crowd appeal is an active one still today, usually with movie makers with They Will Never Understand on one side and the historically oriented of the movie-going public with Truth, Right and Justice on the other.

Leaving certain elements and upgrading others so as to be more hip and happenin'.

Particularly with hairstyles, you will often see this. Beautifully reproduced costumes with every detail accurate, and a modern (or modernised) hairdo.

Judy Garland in Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) featuring bangs that were popular then and (thankfully) only then while wearing her best Edwardian garb

Looking back, I am not sure why the importance of the Grimsthorpe Portrait of Lady Jane Grey and the portrait called Jane Shore in the Royal Collection being painted by the same painter impressed itself so strongly on me.

After all, the fact that two portraits were painted by the same sitter does not mean that there is a connection between the sitters, nor a connection between the provenance of the paintings. One only has to look at all the diverse sitters of Hans Holbein and Hans Eworth, for example, to dispel that notion.

If I am right in the Grimsthorpe Portrait being a portrait of Lady Jane Grey which hung at Bradgate until c. 1670, then it is possible that executor of that painting was a local painter, whom the Grey family of Bradgate again hired to make a copy of an heirloom painting of Jane Shore as a gift to the newlyweds Margaret Grey and Sir Arthur Capell in c. 1592.

I am not suggesting that person only took local assignments, as it is my belief he or she also painted Mary Rogers, Lady Harrington of Kelston, but that he or she was someone the Greys of Bradgate was familiar with, so familiar that he or she was their go-to person for such assignments.

The way many families have a standard photographer for their family pictures.

One, because they take great pictures.

Two, because ... They're there.

If this is correct, we are talking about a painter who was active in England in c. 1553 when the Grimsthorpe Portrait of Lady Jane Grey was painted, and was still active in c. 1592, when the portrait called Jane Shore in the Royal Collection was painted, nearly forty years later.

No such painter is known today.

It is tempting, based on the above to speculate that the Grimsthorpe Portrait itself could be a copy from around the 1580's-1590's of an older original.

English painting style from the mid-1550's is not really distinguishable from English painting style from the mid-1580's-1590's, after all.

Yet, I don't believe this.

For two reasons.

In the opinion of J. Stephan Edwards, the Grimsthorpe portrait very likely originates sometime in the mid-sixteenth century, with the face likely having been re-done in the late eighteenth or early nineteenth century. From a purely artistic-connoissuerial perspective, there is nothing in the technique or materials of the painting that would conclusively date it to any one decade of the century.

My gut instinct, for what it's worth, agrees with him.

The second reason is the lack of inscription in itself speaks of the portrait being an original to me.

After all, we have by now seen countless of portraits not of Lady Jane Grey being inscribed Lady Jane Grey, you would think that they would have managed to do that with a copy of a real one.

Any artist at this time would be compelled to be “active” (i.e., earning a living by selling his works) from the end of his apprenticeship until very near to his death. In the Tudor period, one had to work in order to eat. They did not have pensions and retirement schemes. And artists never accumulated wealth ... the endeavour was not a wealthy-making one in that era. Most artists completed their apprenticeship and began selling their own wares under their own name in their early 20's.

There is current research into the likelihood that “artists” were actually compelled to work in multiple artistic fields simultaneously (portraits, painting designs on pottery, painting scenery for the theaters, painting murals and frescoes in houses, designing jewelry, designing cutlery and tableware, designing church plate and accessories, etc.) simply because most could not earn a sufficient living from a single artistic pursuit such as portraiture. Holbein, for example, obviously painted portraits, but he also designed jewelry, designed silver goblets and vessels, designed architectural elements (e.g.: ceiling bosses), and other such non-painting things. John Bettes the Elder, the only relatively well documented and native English artist of the mid-Tudor period, worked from about 1530 to his death in about 1570. So he had a rather long career, at circa 40 years. But no other English-born artist is known to have been active in England prior to the 1560's. Many of those active after 1560 seem to have had reasonably long careers, however ... sometimes in excess of 25 years.

So it is not without the realm of possibility that such a painter could have existed.

For such a long career, however, one could expect to find many more paintings by this person's hand. I have, in spite of being on constant lookout for a long time, only been able to find these three in this distinctive style.

The shiny fabrics, the rendition of which is seemingly ahead of its time, the dark background, and the white, somewhat mask-like faces.

One way to test the possibility of the portrait called Lady Jane Shore actually being Jane Shore would be to compare it with unidentified portraits of Plantagenet women and see if we got a match.

To the best of my knowledge, there aren't many unidentified portraits of Plantagenet women around.

If there had been, I expect there would have been sites trying to identify them.

You know, like this one.

Lionel Cust rightly made much of this portrait in 1908 when it was purchased by the National Gallery as a rare and important example of early English portraiture.

You know, until it was revealed to be a forgery.

Unknown woman, formerly known as Lady Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond and Derby

Unknown woman, formerly known as Lady Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond and Derby

19th century

National Portrait Gallery | NPG 1488

 

«When the Gallery purchased this painting in 1908, very little was known of its history but it was thought to be the only portrait of Henry VII’s mother painted from life, in around 1475. The Gallery’s director, Lionel Cust made much of it as a rare and important example of early English portraiture. The Gallery’s earliest record of the portrait dates from 1883 when it was purchased by Lord Powerscourt. He invited the first director, George Scharf to view it, but Scharf was not convinced of its authenticity. He sketched it on the back of Lord Powerscourt’s letter describing it as ‘A fabrication’. Powerscourt promptly resold it at Christie’s, probably the lot titled ‘A lady, in nun’s dress’. By the time it again appeared at auction in 1908 Scharf’s opinion was apparently lost sight of and it was purchased for the Gallery as a portrait of Lady Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond and Derby. Cust’s successor, Sir Charles Holmes, had his doubts however, and in January 1911 wrote a report on the portrait noting some peculiarities, for example that it was painted on a very fine linen laid down on a modern panel and that the coat of arms was a later addition. His suspicions were confirmed in 1939 when two x-ray photographs were taken. These revealed that a portrait of an unknown young woman in the costume of circa 1510-50 was painted underneath, probably an early copy of a donor or donor’s wife from an early 16th century Flemish altarpiece; it had been painted over and a coat of arms added in order to sell it as a portrait of Henry VII’s mother. What we see today is now known to be a 19th century painting.»

Another portrait I have seen referred to as Margaret Beaufort is in fact Vittoria Farnese.

Vittoria Farnese, Duchessa di Urbino, Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest

In fact, there aren't many identified ones of Plantagenet women, either.

Of the seven mentioned in the Lumley Collection, we have widely disseminated images of Elizabeth of York, her mother Elizabeth Woodville and her mother-in-law Margaret Beaufort.

There is one portrait in the National Portrait Gallery which is probably her cousin Margaret Pole (NPG 2607).

The portrait of Margaret Beauchamp, Countess of Shrewsbury that was in the Lumley Collection is still in existance today and is in the Collection of the Marquess of Northampton at Compton Wynyates.

Which means that the portraits of Jane Shore and Margaret of Anjou that were in the Lumley Collection must be of particular interest to us.

Leo Gooch writes of the portrait of Margaret of Anjou that it was «Probably one of a standard set of royal portraits». (A Complete Pattern of Nobility, p. 149)

The problem is that no such widely disseminated image of Margaret of Anjou seems to exist. See the portraiture of Margaret of Anjou at Queen's College, Cambridge.

Leo Gooch continues «one of which is in Queen's College, Cambridge.»

Queen's College, Cambridge, themselves, however, does not make any mention of this portrait in their excellent overview of the portraiture of Margaret of Anjou.

An entry in the Arundel Collection was for Joan Shorr, advocate (goodness only knows what the original Italian was for that*), which makes me believe that the portrait of Jane Shore that was in the Lumley Collection followed the Arundels to the Continent.

(*One Italian transcription reads Joan Shorn, advocato, actually, which made me wonder briefly if it could be a misreading of John, and it instead referred to a portrait of John Schorne or something similar. The Arundel Inventory of 1655 has precisely one entry for Joan, however, this one, and 27 involving the name John, making me believe that the chances of a misreading are slim.)

«Audrey remarked upon 'a rare picture, viz. of that pretty creature Mrs. Jane shore, an original' in the possession of Lady Southcot.» A Complete Pattern of Nobility by Leo Gooch, p. 156

«Noble also says, quoting Aubrey's notes, that Lady Southcot, sister of Sir John Suckling, had at her house in Bishopsgate Street ‘a rare picture, viz., of that pretty creature, Mrs. Jane Shore, an original.’» Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900, Volume 52 Shore, Jane by William Arthur Jobson Archbold

«My lady Southcot, whose husband hanged himselfe, was Sir John Suckling's sister, to whom he writes a consolatory letter, viz. the first. She afterwards maried ... Corbet, D.D., of Merton Coll. Oxon. At her house in Bishop's Gate-street, London, is an originall of her brother, Sir John, of Sir Anthony van-Dyke, all at length, leaning against a rock, with a play-booke, contemplating. It is a piece of great value. There is also another rare picture, viz. of that pretty creature, Mris Jane Shore, an originall.» ́Brief Lives ́, chiefly of Contemporaries, between the Years 1669 & 1696 Volume II  by John Aubrey

«Ann Davis, Lady Southcote» Doubtful Readers: Print, Poetry, and the Reading Public in Early Modern England by Erin A. McCarthy

Sir John Suckling (10 February 1609 – after May 1641) was an English poet.

«The poet's father, Sir John Suckling (1569–1627), entered Gray's Inn on 22 May 1590 (Foster, Register, p. 77), and was returned to parliament for the borough of Dunwich in 1601 (Members of Parl. i. 440). In 1602 he was acting as secretary to the lord treasurer, Sir Robert Cecil [..] Martha, who married Sir George Southcott of Shillingford, Devonshire, and, after his suicide in 1638, married as her second husband William Clagett of Isleworth, and died at Bath on 29 June 1661 (she is said to have been the favourite sister of the poet, who sent her a consolatory letter in 1638); Anne, who married Sir John Davis of Bere Court (Le Neve, Pedigrees of Knights, p. 162), and died on 24 July 1659; Mary and Elizabeth, who died unmarried» Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900, Volume 55 Suckling, John by Thomas Seccombe

History of Parliament Online confirms that Sir George Southcote married Martha. George Southcote (1572-1638), of Shillingford, Devon – History of Parliament Online

I am not sure if the painting now in the Royal Collection would have been old enough in the mid-1600's to be considered an 'original' from two hundred years past.

It looks, if the 'modern' additions were not added later, to be precisely from around the mid-1590's, which means that the portrait would have been from 40 to 70 years old in the mid-1600's, depending on when John Aubrey saw it at Lady Southcote's.

Martha Suckling was Lady Southcote from when she married in 1635 until she died in 1661.

Our copy could very well have been the copy of an original, however, which fits so very well with the elements of the portrait that is not consistent with the fashion of the 1590's, such as the headdress that looks so suspiciously like a henin underneath the hat, and the soft, non-boned bodice so at odds with the typically heavily boned and relatively rigid silhouette of this period.

And that original could very well have ended up with Lady Southcote.

Of an 'original' of Jane Shore, we potentially know of one. The one that may have been in the possession of Lord John Grey of Pirgo, of Bradgate, almost the sole survivor of the elder generation of the Greys, who were themselves descendants of a great number of Jane Shore's lovers and friends.

Henry Grey, 1st Earl of Stamford's monetary difficulties appear to have started around 1643 and lasted until his death in 1673.

There exists a link between the him and Lady Southcote and Sir John Suckling, albeit distant.

His wife, Anne Cecil, was the great-niece of Robert Cecil, 1st Earl of Salisbury (1563–1612), whom Lady Southcote and Sir John Suckling's father had been secretary to.

It is also possible that it was the portrait from the Lumley Collection, making a brief appearance there on the way from the estate of Elizabeth Darcy of Chiche, Lady Lumley, the widow of Lord Lumley to the Arundels, or that it was amongst the artworks 'bought in by Britain' after the Arundel Collection was gradually dispersed after 1655 after the deaths of the Arundels.

If the Greys were indeed in possession of a portrait of Jane Shore, which may or may not have been sold by Henry Grey, 1st Earl of Stamford c. 1643–1673, odds are that it was from this portrait the Lumleys copied theirs.

Henry FitzAlan from whom they inherited the nucleus of the collection was married to Katherine Grey, the sister of Lord John Grey of Pirgo, and aunt of Lady Jane Grey.

Jane Lumley was the daughter of Henry FitzAlan and Katherine Grey, and hence niece of Lord John Grey of Pirgo etc.

Before the temperature of family relations between those two branches fell below zero in 1553–1554, Henry FitzAlan could easily have made a copy of a portrait of 'that pretty creature, Mrs. Jane Shore'.

Sir John Suckling (10 February 1609 – after May 1641)

The other painting

Fair Rosamund – Chirk Castle

Jane Shore – Chirk Castle

«The 1724 sale that did include a Fair Rosamund and a Jane Shore was of the effects of a Lady Humble.» Further information sought on portraits of ‘Jane Shore’

«Sir John Humble, who m. Sarah, daughter and co-heir of Andrew Lant, esq. of Thorpe Underwood, in the county of Northampton, and had surviving issue, William, his heir. Mary. He d. 7th February, 1723, and was s. by his son» A Genealogical and Heraldic History of the Extinct and Dormant Baronetcies of England, Ireland, and Scotland by John Burke

staircase and hall, lot 10 10 Fair Rosomond, Jane Shore, and two other Heads 3qrs. A catalogue of the Lady Humble's large dwelling house and fine gardens, ... with the household goods [London 1724]; in 'The art world in Britain 1660 to 1735,' at http://artworld.york.ac.uk;

lot 3 Fair Rosamond, and three other heads 'Mr.Sykes sale of Pictures. 1733'; transcribed in Houlditch Manuscript vol 1, p.525, mid 18th cent, National Art Library, pressmark 86.00.18; in 'The art world in Britain 1660 to 1735,' at http://artworld.york.ac.uk;

Notes:

[1] A Queen of a New Invention by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 55-56

[2] The Streatham Portrait – Wikipedia Page

[3] Lady Jane Grey Reference Guide – A look at how the Streatham portrait has been displayed over the years …

[4] (29) Adams, later Woollcombe-Adams and Stopford-Adams, of Ansty Hall – Landed families of Britain and Ireland

[5] The Cecil Family (1914) by George Ravenscroft Dennis

[6] The Royal Compendium: Being a Genealogical History of the Monarchs of England, From the Conquest to the Present Time: Treating distinctly of their Marriages, Children, and Collateral Branches; And Shewing Their Titles, Offices, Births, Deaths, and Places of Birth and Burial; with a View of their Lives. Together with The Descent of the several Foreign Princes now reigning, and of the several Noble and Eminent Families in England, that are sprung from the Blood Royal of this Kingdom, down to the Present Year. (1757)

[7] Old Master Prints and Drawings: A Guide to Preservation and Conservation, edited by Carlo James, Marjorie B. Cohn

[8] Nicholas Lanier: Master of the King? Musick by Michael I. Wilson

[9] A Descriptive Catalogue of the Etched Work of Wenceslaus Hollar 1607-1677 by Richard Pennington

[10] A Queen of a New Invention by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 184

[11] Ibid.

[12] A Queen of a New Invention by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 185 and p. 192

[13] A Queen of a New Invention by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 185 

[14] A Queen of a New Invention by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 131-132

[15] A Queen of a New Invention by J. Stephan Edwards, p. 138

[16] Lady Jane Grey's grandfather was Thomas Grey, 2nd Marquis of Dorset. He was the brother of Cecily Grey, Lady Dudley who was the mother of Edward Sutton, 4th Baron Dudley. Cecily is the only one of the Marquis's then still living siblings whom he mentions in his will. Lord Guildford Dudley's father, John Dudley, 1st Duke of Northumberland was the second cousin of John Sutton, 3rd Baron Dudley (c. 1494 – 1553), commonly known as Lord Quondam, the husband of Cecily Grey and the father of Edward Sutton, 4th Baron Dudley, through their mutual great-grandfather, John Sutton, 1st Baron Dudley. There is some evidence that John Dudley, 1st Duke of Northumberland tricked his cousin out of his wealth. This did not stop Lord Quondam's son Henry Dudley from conspiring revenge on the behalf of his cousin, the Duke, however.

[17] She allowed him to scribble in her beloved girdle prayer book.