The Organisation of the Catalogue

Geographical Boundaries and Chronological Limits

Pieter Bruegel the Elder died in 1569. By that time the Habsburgs had made the Low Countries into an independent political entity, by detaching, in 1529, the counties of Artois and Flanders from the kingdom of France and by separating, in 1548, the other provinces from the Empire. Charles V had annexed to his Burgundian inheritance Tournai, West Frisia, Utrecht and the Oversticht, Groningen and the Ommelanden, Cambrai and the duchy of Guelders. Only the Prince‐Bishopric of Liège and the lordship of Ravenstein remained outside Habsburg control. Under Philip II, in 1559–61, the establishment of three new archdioceses¹ and fifteen dioceses² provided for the newly emancipated region an independent ecclesiastical structure. The Spanish Netherlands, also known as the ‘Burgundian Circle’ of the Empire, with which it maintained vestigial links, or the ‘Seventeen Provinces’, included a large swathe of what is now northern France. Though the present political frontiers, created during later periods, have no relevance for the sixteenth century, the linguistic frontiers have remained in much the same places.

In 1569, the kingdom of France was a good deal smaller than the present French Republic. Although the duchy of Burgundy had been recovered in 1477 and Calais had been taken in 1558, the counties of Artois, Flanders and Hainault and the Free County of Burgundy (Franche Comté) belonged to the Habsburgs. France had annexed in 1552 the cities of Metz, Toul and Verdun, but Alsace and Lorraine remained parts of the Empire and the Dukes of Savoy controlled large areas in the south east. Lyon was a frontier town (though it temporarily ceased to be so between 1536 and 1559, when the French occupied Bresse and much of the rest of Savoy). Avignon and the Comtat Venaissin were enclaves that belonged to the papacy. The viscounty of Béarn remained independent until 1620.

Three years after Bruegel’s death, in 1572, the Dutch ‘Sea Beggars’ captured the little port of Brill, and three thousand Protestants were murdered in Paris early on Saint Bartholomew’s Day. These events initiated periods of dramatic change.

In the present catalogue the sixteenth century has been rather loosely defined, since several pictures certainly painted during the early years of the sixteenth century have already been catalogued with the fifteenth‐century pictures³ and some of the paintings catalogued here may conceivably have been painted before 1500. It seemed sensible to separate pictures that are closely linked with fifteenth‐century traditions from those, for example Bosch’s Christ Mocked (The Crowning with Thorns), NG 4744, that mark new departures in both style and technique and may be associated with Bruegel, rather than van Eyck, van der Weyden and van der Goes. It is this caesura of style and technique that seems very much more significant than the beginning of the new century.

By ‘Early French Pictures’ are meant those that precede the seventeenth‐century paintings already catalogued by Humphrey Wine.⁴ The Wilton Diptych (NG 4451), catalogued in 1946 and 1957 as ‘French(?) School’,⁵ has been omitted because it was painted in England by an artist or artists whose nationalities and places of training are not yet established.⁶ Also omitted from the present catalogue are one picture classed as French by Martin Davies in his French catalogues of 1946–57,⁷ and four pictures classed by him as Netherlandish in his Netherlandish catalogues of 1945–68.⁸ One picture classed as German by Michael Levey in 1959, the Virgin and Child with an Angel in a Landscape (NG 2157), is here catalogued as Netherlandish.⁹ The portrait of Susanna Stefan (NG 184) was painted in Nuremberg in the early 1560s but its painter was beyond question Nicolas de Neufchâtel, who came from Mons and was trained in the Low Countries. The picture is therefore retained in the Netherlandish section of the catalogue, but a revised edition of the entry will be included in the German catalogue.

It has been convenient to catalogue in the same volume the Early French and the sixteenth‐century Netherlandish paintings because the Early French pictures are rather few in number and several of the painters are thought to have received at least part of their training in the Low Countries. Corneille de Lyon certainly came from The Hague; Jean Hey was described as teutonicus and was probably from one of the provinces of the Low Countries that were independent of France; François Clouet’s father Jean Clouet was certainly born outside France and may well have come from the Low Countries. The style of the Master of Saint Giles seemed so Netherlandish that his paintings have previously been treated in the Netherlandish catalogues; there have been attempts to identify him with artists who came from Bruges or Tournai. It is interesting to consider the extents to which the Master of Saint Giles, and indeed Jean Hey, differ in style and technique from contemporary painters working in the Low Countries. François Quesnel was born in Scotland but his father was French and François worked in France. Simon de Mailly came from Châlons‐sur‐Marne and was therefore French, though he worked in Avignon, a city that was not, strictly speaking, part of France.

The Sixteenth‐Century Netherlandish Pictures

The paintings by Bosch, Bruegel and Beuckelaer, together with the unrivalled group of works by Gossart, are all great masterpieces; there are also a few rather undistinguished pictures. Most of those lesser paintings, however, are interesting for reasons other than their modest aesthetic qualities.

The Netherlandish collection has come together almost by accident. There are 69 Netherlandish entries in this catalogue (one of them devoted to all four paintings in Beuckelaer’s Elements series), of which 43 were given or bequeathed (20 gifts, 23 bequests) and 25 were bought, including five acquired through the purchase of the Krüger collection¹⁰ and three through that of the Beaucousin collection.¹¹ The remaining item is the very damaged portrait transferred in 1880 from the British Museum.¹² The gifts and bequests include all four paintings by Quinten Massys.¹³ The purchases include many of the most important masterpieces: five of the Gossarts (two from the Beaucousin collection), the Bosch, the Bruegel and the Beuckelaers. In many cases, the Trustees managed to drive down the price. Gossart’s Elderly Couple (NG 1689) was bought in 1900 for £4,000. The vendor and his agent, the dealer Ayerst Hooker Buttery, had hoped for more; the Gallery’s original offer had been £2,500.¹⁴ Agnew’s parted with Gossart’s Young Princess (NG 2211) without taking any profit. It was well known that the 9th Earl of Carlisle had expressed a wish that Gossart’s Adoration of the Kings (NG 2790) should be offered to the nation ‘on extremely favourable terms’ or at less than its market value. The dealer Guido Arnot had wanted £50,000 for his Bruegel (now NG 3556) but accepted £15,000, while the Bosch (NG 4744) was cheap at £5,291 16s. 9d.

Though considerable effort had to be made to raise money for Gossart’s Adoration and for Bruegel’s Adoration, and the National Art Collections Fund (now The Art Fund) played a vital part in both acquisitions, it cannot be claimed that the Gallery has spent extravagantly on its sixteenth‐century Netherlandish collection. It must be remembered that the Trustees and Directors were to some extent bound by the Treasury Minute of 27 March 1855:… my Lords are of opinion that, as a general rule, preference should be given to fine pictures for sale abroad. As regards the finer works of art in this country it may be assumed that, although they may change hands, they will not leave our shores … as a general rule, preference should be given to good specimens of the Italian schools, including those of the earlier masters.

Meanwhile, paintings by the most outstanding sixteenth‐century Netherlandish masters had been leaving ‘our shores’ in large numbers since the seventeenth century and continued to do so during the twentieth century. There is little point in listing those great pictures that could have been acquired, at little expense, for the Gallery. It is more important to stress that the collection that we have, despite the glories of its Gossarts, its Bosch and its Bruegel, has come together by happy accident. Though the collection of fifteenth‐century Netherlandish pictures may be, and has been, treated as a random sample of what was produced, it is not possible to claim that the sixteenth‐century Netherlandish paintings constitute a sample that is in any way representative. They must be discussed in rather different ways.

The Early French Pictures

The collection of early French pictures at the National Gallery is small, has come together largely by accident and has no coherence. There are thirteen French entries in this catalogue, one of which is devoted to the two scenes from the life of Saint Giles by the Master of Saint Giles (NG 1419 and NG 4681). The Saint Giles panels and the fragment by Jean Hey, usually known as the Master of Moulins (NG 4092), are pictures of great beauty, importance and interest. The remaining eleven, ten of which are portraits, are considerably less significant. Only two of them were purchased: NG 660, the portrait of the Seigneur d’Andoins from the workshop of François Clouet; and NG 3582, the portrait of a young woman here attributed to the workshop of François Quesnel.

Principles of Investigation

Because the two collections are not in any sense representative, and because they are being treated in one catalogue, I have not attempted to write an introductory essay along the same lines as the Introduction to my catalogue of The Fifteenth Century Netherlandish Schools.¹⁵ Instead I have included a study of the ways in which sixteenth‐century Netherlandish paintings were viewed by people of that time. I have concentrated on pictures from the National Gallery Collection and on artists represented there, but it has not been possible to be exclusive and the reader will find many references to painters such as Lucas de Heere and Dominicus Lampsonius, both of whom worked in England but neither of whom is represented at the Gallery. Since the situation of the artist did not alter dramatically from the fifteenth to the sixteenth century, readers will find in my earlier catalogue remarks on various subjects that may be applied to the sixteenth century: for instance, on the art market or on the organisation of the painter’s workshop. The section on ‘The Making of Pictures’¹⁶ I amplify below by describing ‘The Processes of Making’ and by including some statistics on the Netherlandish and French pictures. It would, however, be unwise to make many extrapolations from the statistics presented.

The 69 entries in this catalogue for Netherlandish pictures and 13 for French make 82 entries in all, but they cover 108 painted surfaces. One entry is devoted to Beuckelaer’s Elements (NG 6585–NG 6588), four large canvases, and another to the pictures by the Master of Saint Giles (NG 1419 and NG 4681), two panels, each painted on both sides. Only four of the 108 do not include figures.¹⁷ Panels from the same polyptych are catalogued as one entry: the Heemskercks (NG 6508.1 and 2), which were the wings of a triptych; the two panels from the workshop of Quinten Massys (NG 295.1 and 2), which were put together as a diptych; the two panels from the workshop of Goossen van der Weyden (NG 1082 and NG 1084), both from the same altarpiece. The three triptychs that survive more or less intact are counted as single entities (NG 1088 and NG 2606, both from the workshop of Pieter Coecke, and NG 1085 by a follower of Quinten Massys).

It is worth pointing out that four of the pictures are undoubtedly fragments¹⁸ and that at least another ten have been parted from companion paintings – other parts of altarpieces¹⁹ [page 15]or pendants.²⁰ Several more may have had painted reverses, now destroyed. Many of the companion pictures are lost, but others survive and, with much help from colleagues in other galleries and private collections, we have tried to study them with the greatest care and to assemble as much information as possible on their physical states. The two Saint Giles panels in Washington and Jean Hey’s Annunciation in Chicago were reunited in recent exhibitions with their London companions.

The Examination of the Pictures

Working in close association with my colleagues in the Conservation and Scientific Departments, I have studied each picture, brought to the Conservation Department for that purpose. This initial programme of examination began in 1991, conducted in exactly the same ways as for the catalogue of The Fifteenth Century Netherlandish Schools.²¹ During the time that has elapsed between the initial examinations and the completion of the present catalogue, the technology available for scientific analysis has advanced enormously and it has been possible to take advantage of new techniques in order to improve analyses and make further discoveries. Meanwhile some paintings have been treated in the Conservation Department since their initial examinations, so that we could study them and refine greatly our first conclusions. As a result, some of the entries include more detailed, or more recent, information than do others.

We had already consulted records of any conservation treatments or previous examinations, X‐radiographs, infrared and other technical photographs, and existing reports on the analysis of paint samples. With Rachel Billinge, I studied the structure of any frame that was original and the construction of each support. The support was measured and notes were made of any inscriptions, seals, numbers or other significant marks on the reverse. Using infrared reflectography, Rachel Billinge examined the entire surface of each painting; we took detailed notes and she made reflectograms of any significant passages. Peter Klein is the dendrochronologist who has studied the London panels.

Rachel Billinge and I looked at many of the pictures under ultraviolet light. We examined every paint surface under a binocular microscope and made notes to be used in writing a detailed description of the picture and a report on its condition. What appeared to be underdrawing in the infrared images was scrutinised to ensure that it was in truth underdrawing rather than dark lines in the surface paint. The edges were examined with particular care to establish whether they had been cut, and, if so, how the cuts had been made, as well as to detect any traces of paint or gilding that might have strayed onto the painted surface when the original frame was decorated. Where possible, pigments were identified and layer structures observed. We tried to note, and describe, any unusual or potentially unusual aspects of the painting technique. Our colleagues from the Scientific Department also took part in the microscopic examination, when we decided whether and where it would be possible to obtain paint samples. Ashok Roy, Marika Spring, Raymond White, Jennie Pilc, Catherine Higgitt, David Peggie and Helen Howard took samples for analysis; they and their colleagues Jo Kirby and Rachel Morrison helped with the analyses and re‐examined existing samples from the Department’s archive. Martin Wyld, Larry Keith, David Bomford, Jill Dunkerton, Anthony Reeve, Paul Ackroyd, Britta New and Nele Bordt, all members of the Conservation Department, and the members of the Scientific Department already mentioned, have given particularly helpful advice. Rachel Billinge made many detail photographs and photomicrographs. If X‐radiographs or other technical images were required, they were made at that stage by members of the Photographic Department. The picture was then returned to its place in the Gallery.

Initially, Rachel Billinge made up the computerised reflectogram assemblies from images taken with the Hamamatsu vidicon camera.²² More recent infrared examinations have taken place using one of two cameras with digital sensors based on indium gallium arsenide (InGaAs).²³ The paint samples were studied in the Scientific Department. Preparatory layers (grounds and primings), pigments and layer structures were examined by optical microscopy and analysis undertaken by energy‐dispersive X‐ray microanalysis in the scanning electron microscope (SEM–EDX) and by X‐ray powder diffraction (XRD), X‐ray fluorescence analysis (XRF) and attenuated total reflectance – Fourier transform infrared microspectroscopic imaging (ATR–FTIR). Lake pigments were studied with high performance liquid chromatography (HPLC) and paintbinding media were identified by Gas Chromatography (GC), Gas Chromatography–Mass Spectrometry (GC–MS) and the complementary technique of FTIR microscopy in transmission mode. At regular intervals, we discussed and collated our results. Rachel Billinge and Marika Spring have been unfailingly careful in checking, correcting and expanding the Technical Notes drafted by me, partly from their and their colleagues’ work and notes. They have played a vital part in the writing of this catalogue. Without them, it could never have been brought to its present form.

Arrangement

In the introductory chapter on ‘The Processes of Making’, I have commented on the materials that the painters used and the methods they followed to create pictures of differing kinds. In ‘The History of the Collection’ (and the separate, very short history of the French collection), I have tried to examine the history of the National Gallery Collection in the context of the changing interests of British collectors in Netherlandish and French painting. In the third essay, I have attempted to formulate some generalisations on the ways in which sixteenth‐century Netherlandish pictures were viewed by people of that time.

The catalogue entries are arranged, in the Netherlandish as in the French part, under artists’ names in alphabetical order. The four pictures consigned to anonymity are classified under Netherlandish School and French School. All the others are attached to named artists or to artists with ‘names of convenience’, for example the Master of the Female Half‐Lengths or the Master of Saint Giles. In the biographical essays at the start of each entry or group of entries, the facts of the artists’ lives are set out and the signed, documented or otherwise authenticated pictures are listed. Comments on style and on the workshop of each artist may be included. In the essays on Masters with names of convenience, the works after which they are named are described and the style of each Master is characterised. If a painting is described as by a particular artist, it is assumed that he painted it, with the usual amount of help from his assistants. If it is described as by an artist and his workshop, it is implied that the assistants were very largely responsible but that there was some direct intervention by the master. If a painting is described as from an artist’s workshop, it is implied that it was painted by one or more assistants under the master’s supervision, perhaps from his designs but without his direct intervention. If a painting is described as by a ‘follower’, the implication is that the follower was an imitator active outside the workshop, though he may have been a former assistant. A picture described as by an ‘associate’ is by an artist strongly impressed by the style of a particular master and perhaps striving to emulate his work. He may have collaborated with the master, as his journeyman or on a more equal basis, but was not totally dominated by him and retained some distinctive tastes and idiosyncrasies. The last category under each artist’s name comprises copies, where the painter totally abandoned his own individual style as he attempted to reproduce as accurately as possible the work of the named artist. In each category, the paintings are listed in numerical order, by inventory number.

Each entry begins with a section on ‘Provenance’, setting out the recorded history of the picture. If plausible deductions can be made about its earlier history, they are included in the main text of the entry. The patrons who probably commissioned Beuckelaer’s Four Elements, the Bruegel and Gossart’s Adoration of the Kings are discussed not under ‘Provenance’ but in the relevant sections of the entries. Under ‘Technical Notes’, conservation treatments are described, though minor operations, such as consolidations of flaking paint, are not necessarily enumerated. A condition report follows, where we consider in some detail alterations due to ageing that have affected the appearance of the painting in important ways. Information is then given on the support, the ground and priming, the underdrawing, the pigments and the media; particular attention is given to any changes in composition, important in reconstructing the creative processes of the painter. Unusual technical procedures and any notable peculiarities of handling are mentioned in the final section.

Under ‘Description’, I have pointed out details that may not be immediately obvious in the original or in good colour reproductions and have attempted to identify all the objects represented, including articles of clothing. It is perhaps inevitable that some of the smaller pictures have been more intensively studied and more fully described than some of the larger and more complex compositions. The ‘Description’ is usually, though not invariably, followed by a discussion of the subject of the picture: occasionally the discussion of the iconography – for example that of a portrait – finds its logical place after the attribution and date have been established. Commentaries on the function of the painting, its patron, its attribution and its date follow in the order that I considered reasonable and appropriate in that particular case. I have summarised with some care the views of respected authorities such as Passavant, Friedländer and Hulin; I have referred constantly to previous Gallery catalogues and always to those by my predecessor Martin Davies. Any useful observation or comment I have of course taken into account. I have not seen fit, however, to burden the text with endless citations of books, articles or exhibition catalogues where the authors express but do not justify opinions or merely repeat the findings of others. I could not attempt to cite every published reference to every picture. The admirable indexes kept in the National Gallery Library allow exhaustive bibliographies to be compiled. In the Notes I have given essential citations so that anyone can check my sources. Occasionally I have included in the Notes short digressions, which may interest some readers but are not vital for an understanding of the entry. I have employed the abbreviations listed on p. 11 above. Frequently cited books and articles are referred to by the author’s surname and the date of publication: full details will be found in the List of Publications Cited, which is exactly that and which must not be treated as a Bibliography.

The catalogue entries, written at different times, were complete by the end of 2011. In 2012–13, however, the ‘Technical Notes’ sections were thoroughly revised by Rachel Billinge and Marika Spring to take account of recent discoveries and research. The Magdalen (NG 719), from the workshop of the Master of 1518, was cleaned and restored in 2012–13; this entry has been rewritten. I have not been able to include systematically references to books, articles and exhibition catalogues published in 2012 and 2013: for example, the strangely incomplete survey of the documents on Gossart by Sytske Weidema and Anna Koopstra,²⁴ Alexandre Galand’s exemplary volume on van Orley,²⁵ or the study of Bosch’s drawings by Fritz Koreny.²⁶ A few exceptions have been made, notably for the important book on Bruegel by Christina Currie and Dominique Allart.²⁷

Comparative illustrations are included if they are considered essential for an understanding of the entry or if they are not readily accessible elsewhere. Details and photomicrographs are given to illustrate points made in the text. For pictures that survive in damaged condition – for example the portraits by Mor (NG 1231) and Frans Pourbus the Elder (NG 6412) – photomicrographs of well‐preserved areas are used to convey something of the quality of the originals and to allow readers to glimpse a little of the beauty that these paintings once possessed. Photomicrographs of parts of the less good pictures – for example NG 2616, the portrait of a woman by a follower of Corneille de Lyon, and NG 5762, the Cleopatra attributed to Simon de Mailly – will allow readers to observe and assess the massive differences that separate them from the masterpieces of Beuckelaer, Bruegel, Gossart, Massys, Mor and Jean Hey.

Place names have been given in the forms most familiar to the English‐speaking reader: Bruges for Brugge, The Hague for ’s‐Gravenhage (Den Haag), Mechlin for Mechelen (Malines), Ypres for Ieper. By Christie’s and Sotheby’s are meant the London headquarters of those firms. For sales in other locations, the towns are specified, as in Christie’s, New York, or Sotheby’s, Monaco.

In the catalogue entries, I have tried to explain the physical as well as the historical evidence in the most straightforward way, to make it accessible to the interested general reader as well as to the specialist. In presenting my own conclusions, I have endeavoured to make a clear distinction between fact and speculation. Anyone taking issue with my findings will have the relevant evidence at his or her disposal and will, I hope, be in a position to add to it and to refute or develop my arguments.

Notes