The Fitzwilliam Museum Portrait
 
 

Unknown Lady
(formerly Mary I when Princess)
by Hans Eworth
Fitzwilliam Museum,Cambridge

(click on image to enlarge in new window)
 
 
 
     An article published in History Today in 1985 described the many posthumous artistic, dramatic, and cinematic depictions of Lady Jane Grey (1537–1554), England’s ‘nine-days queen’.[1] A large first-page illustration accompanied that article (below) : a photograph of a portrait held by the National Portrait Gallery (London) which in 1985 was believed to be the only extant and authentic early-modern portrait of Lady Jane. Subsequent research conducted by Susan James suggests quite convincingly, however, that the sitter is in fact Henry VIII’s last queen, Katherine Parr.[2] The only known life portrait of Lady Jane Grey was thus ‘lost’. England’s enigmatic nine-days queen, a historical figure who remains extremely popular among the general public, is thus currently ‘invisible’ to the modern viewer, even as scholars of early modern European history seek to restore the presence and voice of women to the historiography of the period.[3]

        The extensive collection of Cambridge University’s Fitzwilliam Museum contains, however, a portrait catalogued as Unknown Lady by Hans Eworth (accession number PD.1–1963, left) which may well be a life portrait of Lady Jane Grey.[4] Lady Jane was the focus of considerable courtly attention in May and June of 1553 as John Dudley and his closest ally, Henry Grey, Jane’s father, struggled to set aside Mary Tudor’s claim to the throne of the dying Edward VI. There is ample circumstantial evidence to suggest that PD.1–1963 is a pre-marriage portrait of Lady Jane Grey created in connection with the rapidly evolving schemes and plots of May and June 1553.[5] The artist’s patronage associations and the probable context of the painting’s creation offer significant clues useful to identifying the sitter.
 
 

Katherine Parr, ca. 1544
by 'Master John'
National Portrait Gallery, London
NPG 4451
 
 
     The painting itself contains much visual evidence that supports identifying the sitter as Lady Jane Grey, including the sitter’s clothing, jewellery, and physical appearance. This paper will explore that evidence synchronically, ‘reading’ the portrait’s clues in a manner consistent with sixteenth-century conventions of portraiture and portrait viewing, utilizing visual clues beyond simply the sitter’s physiognomy.

The portrait, Unknown lady by Hans Eworth
     The portrait itself is a three-quarter length executed in oil on panel (109 cm x 80 cm, 43 ⅛ in x 31 ½ in). The painting portrays a young woman, one apparently of noble rank, judging by the quality and number of her jewels. She was unmarried, as she wears no wedding ring. Her dress consists of a gown of black silk trimmed in black velvet over an underskirt and undersleeves of a subdued red. The same red is repeated in the French hood adorning her head. The gown has a standing collar lined with white and edged with gold lace. Her chemise frill is edged with black, and around her neck is a collar with gold and black embroidery on a white ground. The red undersleeves are edged with gold lace above an embroidered ruffle at the wrist, itself edged in black. Fourteen pairs of aiglets are visible, each black enamel on gold. A bracelet of interlocked and figured gold squares encircles her left wrist. She wears a large circular brooch on her bodice and a cross of gemstones and gold suspended from her collar. Four gold rings set with gemstones adorn her fingers: two rings on the left index finger, one on the right index finger, and one on the left fifth finger. A girdle chain comprised of alternating plain and turned gold links supports a small book in a fine binding. She stands beside a window and against a plain grey wall, the lower portion of which is in shadow.

     The overall appearance of the costume suggests that the painting was executed in the first half of the 1550s. The long hanging sleeves pre-date the Spanish-influenced tight sleeves introduced to England with the arrival in mid-1554 of Phillip of Spain and his entourage, following his marriage to Queen Mary. The neck ruff is quite small, also suggestive of a date in the first half of the 1550s. Dendrochronological tree ring analysis of the wood comprising the panel on which the painting is executed also supports a dating to the early 1550s.[6] The painting was created no earlier than 1550, however, since Hans Eworth’s earliest known portrait is dated to that year, and his letters of denization are dated 29 October 1550.[7]

     The limited provenance of PD.1–1963 offers no clues to the sitter’s identity. The painting entered the historical record in 1854 when it was purchased from an unknown seller by Colonel Francis Barchard (d. 1856) of Horsted Place, Uckfield, Sussex.[8] Mrs. Maud Barchard, widow of a great-grandson of Col. Barchard, sold the painting to P.&D. Colnaghi and Co. in 1949, from which it was acquired by Sir Bruce Stirling Ingram shortly thereafter. He in turn bequeathed the picture to the Fitzwilliam Museum in 1963. The picture is now on permanent display at the Fitzwilliam Museum.

     The portrait has undergone only limited scholarly study. The picture was exhibited in 1950–51 at the Royal Academy, prior to being acquired by the Fitzwilliam Museum, under the attribution ‘close follower of Holbein’.[9] Ellis Waterhouse, in his 1953 publication Painting in Britain, 1530–1790, first attributed the work to Hans Eworth.[10] Subsequent detailed study by Sir Roy Strong confirmed Waterhouse’s attribution.[11] Identification of the sitter has been examined less systematically, however, focusing almost exclusively on whether or not she is Mary I when princess. Most scholars have been inclined to accept Mary as the sitter in the absence of arguments to the contrary. Comparisons of the physical appearance of the woman in PD.1–1963 to Mary Tudor as she appears in all other Eworth portraits of her (such as the example below) reveal little resemblance, however.

 
 

Mary I, 1554
by Hans Eworth
Society of Antiquaries, London
 
 
     Waterhouse has suggested that the fineness of the jewellery in PD.1-1963, and the subject matter depicted in the brooch, the Old Testament story of Esther, are confirmatory evidence for Mary as the sitter.[12] Subsequent scholars have generally accepted this suggestion. J.W. Goodison, former curator of the Fitzwilliam Museum, was utterly convinced that the portrait was indeed of Mary despite the disparity between the apparently young age of the sitter and Mary’s actual age in excess of thirty-four after 1550.[13]

     In only one published instance has an alternative identity for the sitter been proposed, and that identification seems unlikely. Hugh Tait has suggested that the sitter in PD.1–1963 may be Lady Anne Penruddocke, based on a facial resemblance to that lady in a well-documented Eworth portrait of Anne dated 1557 (below).[14] Scholars agree however that the sitter in PD.1–1963 was of high social status, in light of the richness of her clothing and jewellery. The jewellery in the documented Penruddocke portrait does not indicate that Anne was of high status. Lady Anne’s jewellery in that portrait is notably limited to one long gold chain about the neck and a gold girdle-chain supporting a small book. Neither chain is set with gemstones. There are also no rings on those fingers visible in the portrait. Additionally, Anne Penruddocke was the second wife of George Penruddocke, a Wiltshire gentleman and Member of Parliament in 1557. His subsequent election to the first Parliament of Elizabeth’s reign (1558) was challenged based on his ‘insufficient status’.[15] Nor was he knighted until eleven years after his wife’s portrait was painted, so that Anne would not have been styled ‘Lady’ at the time Eworth created her portrait. Anne Penruddocke cannot therefore be considered of high social station and she is quite unlikely to be the young lady depicted in PD.1–1963, despite any vague facial resemblance.
 
 

Lady Anne Penruddocke, ca.1557
by Hans Eworth
Private Collection
 
 
     A likely identification for the sitter is obtainable through examination of the clues and evidence derived both from circumstances external to PD.1–1963 and from the visual content of the painting itself. External circumstances include conventions of Tudor female portraiture and the artist’s associations with a specific community of patrons. Clues derived from the content of the painting include the nature of the clothing and jewellery worn by the sitter and what those items may reveal about the social status, familial origins, and personal identity of the sitter. The physical appearance of the sitter, though not entirely reliable when used as a sole identifier, does nonetheless offer clues useful in identifying the young woman. Eworth, like Hans Holbein before him, created portraits that depict highly individualized sitter with specific physical traits. Additionally, comparisons to well-documented portraits by the same artist (or even Holbein) can be used to exclude identifications where physical similarities are markedly absent. All of these clues and pieces of evidence will be combined to suggest Lady Jane Grey as the most plausible identification of the person depicted.

Clues and evidence external to the painting
     Possible reasons for creation of the portrait offer an initial clue to the sitter’s identity. Tudor portraiture often commemorates a signal event in the life of the sitter, whether that sitter is male or female.[16] For men the signal event might be a military victory, attainment of high office or title, or marriage. Hans Eworth’s portraits of Sir Thomas Wyndham and Sir John Luttrell of 1550, for example, commemorate those two men’s participation in the military campaigns in Scotland during the late 1540s.[17] For women, however, the event was most often marriage.[18] Women’s portraits were often painted as part of negotiations preceding their marriages, a means of recording and conveying the physical and social attributes of a prospective bride to any potential suitors, especially among noble and royal families.[19] Among these suitor portraits, Hans Holbein’s Anne of Cleves and Christina of Denmark are probably the most famous.[20] Portraits of women were also created immediately after the marriage, often as one of a husband–wife pair of portraits. Holbein created such a pair in 1536, depicting Henry VIII and Jane Seymour shortly after their marriage in May of that year.[21] Eworth produced similar portrait pairs, such as those of James Stuart, first Earl of Moray and his wife (1561) and Thomas Howard, fourth Duke of Norfolk and his wife Margaret Audley (1562–3).[22] Forty percent of Eworth portraits that feature a woman alone (excluding the numerous portraits of Mary), however, portray those women before marriage, as indicated by a lack of wedding rings, though the sitters in the majority of these remain unidentified.[23]

     The artist and his associations also offer potential clues to the sitter’s identity. Hans Eworth is often associated with Catholic patrons, in large part because of his numerous portraits of prominent English Catholics and of Mary I after she became queen. Eworth was a Protestant, however, who emigrated from the Netherlands to London in the late 1540s.[24] No Eworth portrait of the Protestant Elizabeth is known, either from before or after her accession, suggesting that he was not in close favour with that queen. This is perhaps due to a previous close association with the treasonous John Dudley’s faction during the last years of the reign of Edward VI.[25]

     An examination of Eworth’s early career indicates that he ingratiated himself to whomever was in power or appeared to be a ‘rising star’, especially John Dudley. The Wyndham and Luttrell portraits cited above are Eworth’s earliest, both dated 1550. Thomas Wyndham, Master of the Ordnance and Vice-Admiral after 1547, linked his fortunes to those of John Dudley early on as Dudley rose to pre-eminence late in the reign of Edward VI. Wyndham and Dudley served together during the military campaigns of the war with France that ended in 1550. Wyndham was reputed to have been involved in certain naval operations intended to support Dudley’s plot to alter the royal succession in 1553.[26] Sir John Luttrell was Wyndham’s nephew and served under Dudley during the campaigns in France.[27] A third extant portrait possibly by Eworth is sometimes identified as Henry Sidney, husband of John Dudley’s second daughter, Mary.[28] There are also two lost portraits believed to be by Eworth that depict sons of Catholic men allied to Dudley in his effort of 1549 to bring about the fall of the Lord Protector Somerset. One is a posthumous portrait of Henry Fitzalan, Lord Maltravers (d. 1556), son of Henry, twelfth Earl of Arundel.[29] The other depicts Henry Wriothesley, son of Thomas, second Earl of Southampton, at age nineteen in 1566.[30] Eworth can thus be confidently linked to two of Dudley’s political allies, and less confidently to three others, evidence of at least some connection to King Edward’s court and the ‘rising star’ John Dudley, late in the king’s reign. It is thus possible that either John Dudley or someone closely associated with him commissioned Eworth to execute PD.1–1963 in preparation for the marriage of a daughter.

     Objects placed upon the sitters depicted in Tudor portraiture can also offer highly specific clues to that sitter’s identity. Scholars of sixteenth-century material culture and art history argue that identity is a social construct consisting of much more than simply an individual’s physical features. Personal and social identities were constructed by Englishmen (and women) of the sixteenth century through the various items worn upon the body, especially clothing and jewels.[31] The construction of identity through material inscription upon the body is notably reflected in sixteenth-century portraiture. Portraiture in that century was generally less concerned with strictly accurate portrayals of physical appearance than with establishing a larger social identity for the person portrayed. Tudor portraits contain ‘a minutely detailed portrayal of the material constitution of the subject: a subject composed through textiles and jewels, fashioned by clothes’.[32] Such material constitution, as Susan James so clearly demonstrated in her work on the Jane Grey/Katherine Parr portrait, ‘provides a specificity that faces do not’.[33] Sixteenth-century portraits ‘are as much portraits of clothes and jewels as of people – mnemonics to commemorate a particularly extravagant suit, a dazzling new fashion in ruffs, a costly necklace or jewel’.[34]

     The richness of the woman’s jewellery, including numerous pearls, diamonds, and other precious stones, suggests that the sitter was the daughter of a very wealthy person, probably a high-ranking nobleman. Such wealthy and noble fathers are generally well documented in the historical record, so that it is possible to trace which men might have presented daughters in such finery. Their daughters are less frequently well documented, but the ages and dates at which many were married are usually recorded and can be assessed against the existing evidence for PD.1–1963. A scope of inquiry comprising daughters of the higher and wealthier nobility offers the most likely initial candidates for identifying the young woman.

     A review of peers in the last years of Edward VI’s reign, prior to the fall of Somerset in 1552, reveals one duke, three marquesses, fourteen earls, and thirty barons.[35] If only those of the highest rank (i.e. dukes, marquesses, earls) are considered of sufficient status and wealth to present a daughter in such fine attire, only seven such noblemen had between them fewer than a dozen daughters who were of age and unmarried in the first half of the 1550s.[36] One daughter from this group, Mary Dudley Sidney, can be excluded based on lack of any physical resemblance when compared to a documented portrait of her by the same artist (below). For the majority of the remainder, little more than their names are known, so that there is no documentary evidence available to connect them to the Fitzwilliam portrait. One noble family had eligible daughters for whom there is sufficient surviving evidence to merit consideration, however. The Greys of Dorset had three daughters approaching marriageable age in the first half of the 1550s. Henry Grey, third Marquess of Dorset, was the grandson of Thomas Grey, himself the son by a previous marriage of Elizabeth Grey Woodville, Queen Consort to King Edward IV. Henry Grey acceded to the marquisate in 1530 and shortly thereafter married Frances Brandon, eldest niece of King Henry VIII and one of the highest ranking females in the kingdom at that time.[37] Late in Edward VI’s reign Henry Grey was elevated to the dukedom of Suffolk, on 11 October 1551.[38] His three surviving daughters, Jane, Katherine and Mary, were thus by the early 1550s not only heirs to the estates of a duke, but also cousins and potential heirs of the young King Edward VI himself. The eldest daughter, the Lady Jane Grey (b. 1537), was preceded in rank by only her mother and the Princesses Mary and Elizabeth.
 
 

Called Mary Dudley, Lady Sidney
by Hans Eworth
Petworth House
The National Trust
 
 
     Because of her rank, both in blood and in title, Jane was considered a valuable marriage prize. As early as 1547, when Jane was just ten years old, Thomas Seymour acquired from Henry Grey the guardianship and custody of Jane and the right to bestow her in marriage. For this right he made to Henry Grey an unsecured ‘loan’ of two thousand pounds, a huge sum of money in sixteenth-century terms.[39] Seymour brought Jane to live in his Sudeley Place household, intending to broker a marriage for Jane to either the son of his brother, Edward Seymour (then Lord Protector), or the young King Edward himself.[40] Following the attainder of Thomas Seymour in late 1548, Jane returned to her natal home, but talk of a possible marriage to Edward continued.[41] King Edward was himself aware of the talk as early as November 1551.[42] By late May of 1553, when the king was known to be dying, Jane had become an even more valuable marriage prize as a plot developed to set aside the legitimate succession.[43]

     In light of Jane Grey’s suitability and value as a marriage prize in early 1553, her prominent social rank, her family’s wealth, her father’s close association with John Dudley, and Eworth’s association with the Dudley faction, it seems reasonable to consider more closely Jane Grey as a potential identification for the sitter in the portrait. A detailed examination of the clues offered by the content of the painting and comparison of how those clues relate to what is known about Jane Grey further support identifying her as the sitter.

‘Reading’ the portrait
        The young lady’s clothing and jewelry provide the strongest material evidence for identification of the sitter as Lady Jane Grey. The costume depicted has been described as ‘sombre’.[44] Consisting of black and muted red silks without brocading or extensive embroidery, the fabrics of the bodice, skirt and sleeves are indeed subdued, by the standards of the Tudor courts. Though Mary is known to have owned ‘sombre’ clothing specifically designated as mourning attire, it seems improbable that she would have her portrait painted in such attire in the usually celebratory early months of a new reign.[45] Even a reading of the portrait as Mary in mourning for her brother Edward would be somewhat anachronistic since the etiquette of extended public mourning was not popularized until the eighteenth and nineteenth century.[46] An eyewitness description of Mary’s processional entry into London only three weeks after her brother’s death further illustrates this point.

Her gowne [was] of purple velvet French fashion, with sleues of the same, hir kirtle purple satten all thick set with gouldsmithes worke and pearle, with her foresleues of the same set with rich stones, with a rich bowdricke of gould, pearle and stones about her necke, and a riche billement of stones and great pearle on her hoode.[47]

               Lastly, a review of numerous documented portraits of Mary reveals only one in which she appears to be clothed entirely in ‘sombre’ attire, though that single picture is only half-length.[48] In all others at least a portion of her attire is comprised of bright brocades, cloth of gold, or richly embroidered silks, indication that she followed the convention for ostentatious rather than ‘sombre’ attire. If clothes are indeed the central material establishers of identity in Tudor portraits, and all portraits of Mary, except one, feature elaborate clothing, then the dress in PD.1–1963 suggests a sitter other than Mary Tudor.

     Lady Jane Grey is noteworthy in regard to her unconventional attitude toward dress fabrics. A contemporary anecdote compares her habits of dress directly to those of then-Princess Mary. John Aylmer, Jane’s Protestant tutor, describes a scene occurring sometime before early 1553 wherein Jane was presented with a gift of ‘apparel of tinsel cloth of gold and velvet, laid on with parchment lace of gold’ from Princess Mary. Aylmer describes Jane rejecting the princess’ gift as inappropriate for a follower of God’s word.[49] Jane’s adherence to the reformed religion and her extensive readings of the theological works of contemporary continental reformers, coupled with her correspondence with those same reformers, inculcated within her a relatively conservative sense of dress and comportment. As early as December of 1551, Aylmer requested of Heinrich Bullinger that he send a letter to Jane instructing her ‘as to what embellishment and adornment of person is most becoming in young women professing godliness’. He further asks that Bullinger specifically inveigh against the use of gold and jewels and ‘braidings of the hair’.[50] The Grey family chaplain, James Haddon, was more pointed in his own request of Bullinger for a letter instructing the entire family ‘as to what may be superfluous in food or clothing, ...and one’s dress too gaudy and expensive, or in any other respect beyond what is necessary, this is a voluntary superfluity and a self-sought sin’.[51] Jane very likely internalized many of these instructions and admonitions, incorporating them into her own sense of self-identity and expressing that sense, by 1553, through a modest habit of dress. That same identity of modesty is inscribed on the body of the sitter in the Fitzwilliam portrait, so that a contemporary viewer would easily read the sombre dress as identifying a religiously modest individual such as Jane Grey.

     The jewelry depicted on the sitter offers further suggestive evidence for identification as Jane Grey. Though the jewels worn on the torso are all rich in material composition, they are simultaneously and decidedly religious in nature, theme, or purpose. They suggest that the sitter was not only quite wealthy but was also devoutly religious or pious. The cross-crosslet worn at the sitter’s neck, for example, was a common and specifically religious emblem (below, left ).[52] Yet its composition of diamonds and pearls suggests significant wealth. The aiglets of gold and black enamel are relatively subdued, both in style and number, when compared to those in other Eworth portraits, suggesting a further pious desire to avoid ostentation without seeming prudish.[53] The remaining jewelry, including the habilliment adorning the French hood and the bracelet visible on the left wrist, is not specifically religious but is instead a common feature among wealthy Tudor-era women.[54]
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
           The brooch depicted on the bodice offers more pointed clues to the sitter’s identity. This circular gold brooch (above,center) consists of a central enseigne set with gems, surrounded by a gold circlet set with four additional gems, one at each of the compass points.[55] The enseigne itself depicts the Old Testament story of Esther, Jewish queen to the pagan King Assuerus (Ashuerus) of Persia. Esther placed her own life at risk to plead with Assuerus to spare the Jewish people from a plot hatched by Aman, the king’s favorite.[56] Esther is often considered an Old Testament type for the New Testament anti-type of the Virgin Mary, leading many scholars to view the jewel as a typological one. They suggest that the woman portrayed is either named Mary or is a queen, or both.[57] Waterhouse has even suggested that such a jewel would be ‘inconceivable’ on any person other than Mary when she was queen (i.e., after 19 July 1553).[58] Other interpretations of the enseigne brooch are possible, however.

     The scene depicted on the brooch can be interpreted allegorically, in addition to the known Marian typological interpretation. Yvonne Hackenbroch, who has made a close study of the depiction of the brooch, argues that the medallion is “utterly unsuitable for a ruling queen’ because the female figure displays too much humility and deference for a Tudor princess of the royal blood. She suggests the brooch is instead a veiled allusion to the feminine modesty appropriate for any bride.[59] She further notes that the choice of primarily Old Testament design themes was common among Protestants in order to avoid association with Roman Catholic interpretations of New Testament themes.[60] Confirming this view, inventories of several Protestant Tudor households taken in August 1553 reveal collections of both jewels and tapestries depicting almost exclusively Old Testament and ancient mythological scenes. The inventory of Syon House, London residence of the nominally Protestant John Dudley, for example, reveals at least two sets of tapestries depicting specifically the story of Esther, evidence that this story was favored by Protestants.[61] Design sketches for jewels incorporating the story of Esther are also found on the continent.[62]

     Lady Jane Grey, a devout and uncompromising Protestant, would probably have favoured Old Testament themes in her jewellery. In light of her extensive readings in Jerome and Origen, church fathers who offered guides to female piety, the story of Esther seems ideally suited to Jane’s personal religious temperament.[63] The Esther jewel can be read allegorically, in the context of marriage portraiture and Jane Grey, as Jane offering herself in any prospective Protestant marriage so that her co-religionists might be saved from persecution by a Catholic monarch (i.e., Mary). Although only Jane’s potential male children could inherit the throne prior to 15 June 1553, not Jane herself, she would certainly have been aware of her potential as mother to a male heir.[64] Jane was thus offering herself in marriage as a vessel through which a Protestant male heir to the crown could be conceived. The Esther brooch, read as a woman offering herself in the service of her faith, would have been entirely appropriate for a deeply pious young bride fully aware of her position in succession affairs.

     The final and most telling clue derived from the content of the painting and useful for identifying the sitter is the pendant devotional book worn by the young woman (above, right). Such books were usually called girdle-books, ‘tablett’ books, or ‘books of gold’, though ‘pendant book’ is more precise. Pendant or girdle-books were commonly worn by both men and women at Tudor royal courts beginning in the reign of Henry VIII.[65] They might be Books of Hours, miniature New Testaments or Psalms, or compilations of prayers and other devotional readings. Such books, richly decorated and costly, were usually made either for specific purposes or for specific owners.[66] Jane Grey is known to have owned at least one such book, a manuscript volume of prayers, still preserved in the British Library.[67] Careful analysis of the pendant book depicted in the portrait, though not identifiable as Jane’s known prayer-book, reveals highly suggestive clues that the sitter is indeed Jane Grey.

     The quality and style of the binding and ornamentation of any early modern book often offer valuable clues to the identity of that book’s owner. Rich bindings incorporating precious metals and stones indicate a wealthy individual or corporate owner. Less costly tooled leather, embroidered velvet, silk, or even canvas bindings were often intended for women’s use.[68] Many binding styles are also associated with unique known binderies patronized by specific individual collectors.[69] Additionally, Bibles and prayer-books, regardless of size or binding, traditionally had metal clasps or ties made from leather or fabric to keep them closed when not in use.[70] The positioning and design of sixteenth-century metal clasps indicates their country or region of manufacture, evidence of a given book’s origin.[71] Metal clasps were also more expensive as they were specially commissioned to fit exactly a given book, again suggesting higher social station for the owner.[72] Lastly, many specially commissioned bindings for designated owners or recipients included cover designs such as coats of arms, crests, insignia, initials, mottoes, or commemorative dates that can be utilized to identify the book’s owner.[73]

     The binding of the pendant book depicted in the Fitzwilliam portrait is a rich one. It appears to be gold-tooled black leather with onlay borders of red leather, also gold-tooled. The gold-tooling in the centre of the book forms an ornate letter ‘D’.[74] The edges of the boards are either gold-tooled or wrapped in gold metal. There is a single clasp holding the book closed. The overall size of the book is not more than three inches by two inches, if gauged in proportion to the hands of the young woman.

     The binding was certainly custom-made. This is indicated by both the design of the binding and the materials used. Leather onlays of contrasting colors were uncommon except among the finest of commissioned bindings, usually originating in royal or court binderies.[75] The gold tooling, very uncommon in England before 1547, indicates that the binding was probably made after that date.[76] The design and position of the metal clasp, with the hinged clasp mounted on the back of the book and the catch plate on its front, indicates that the binding was made in either Germany or the Low Countries.[77] The letter ‘D’ tooled on the front suggests quite specifically an owner with either a first or last name beginning with that letter.

     The ‘D’ on the book’s cover offers highly suggestive evidence for associating it with Jane Grey. As a single letter, it is certainly an individual’s given or surname initial. First names beginning with the letter ‘D’ were very uncommon in sixteenth-century England . Among masculine names in use by the propertied classes, David is the sole example.[78] No individual of sufficient wealth or title to present a daughter in such finery bore that name, however. Dorothy was the only feminine name beginning with ‘D’ in use at that time. Of the eligible women reviewed above, none were named Dorothy. The initial must therefore refer to a surname. Surnames beginning in ‘D’ were common enough, ranging from Dacres to Dyllington.[79] When the list is limited to the wealthy and/or nobility, and to those with daughters of marriageable age during Edward’s reign, only one surname emerges: Dudley . Of John Dudley’s daughters, Jane Dudley was already married by 1550. Mary Dudley has been previously excluded through lack of resemblance to a known Eworth portrait of her. Catherine Dudley, however, was wed in 1553 in one of several marriage ceremonies, including Jane Grey’s, conducted to cement political alliances.[80] The possibility that the portrait depicts Catherine Dudley must therefore be explored.

     Catherine Dudley’s physical appearance is not well documented, so that other types of clues must be utilized in order to either include or exclude her as a potential identification for the sitter.[81] The book depicted in the portrait again offers a direction of inquiry. The Pierpont Morgan Library contains a quarto volume believed to have been presented to John Dudley after 1551.[82] The initials tooled onto the cover are ‘IW’. ‘I’ refers to the Latinized form of John, Iohannes, while ‘W’ refers to Dudley’s title prior to late 1551, Earl of Warwick. The use of an initial derived from Dudley’s title, rather than his surname, is significant as it suggests that such a practice existed, thereby widening the range of possibilities for identification based on the initial D’. It also suggests that the D’ on the book does not refer to Dudley. The Dudley family’s well-documented preference for the use of devices instead of arms or surname initials on bindings they commissioned themselves supports this contention. John Dudley’s sons Robert and Ambrose, for example, consistently used the Warwick bear-and-ragged-staff badge on their books. The Dudleys, pere et fils, even employed that same badge in the prison graffiti they produced after their incarceration in the Tower in July 1553.[83] There is thus no evidence to suggest that the Dudleys used an initial D’ on their bookbindings and therefore insufficient evidence to suggest that Catherine Dudley is the lady depicted in the Fitzwilliam portrait.

     The ‘D’ on the cover of the girdle-book does suggest an identification as Lady Jane Grey, however. Her father acceded to the marquisate of Dorset in 1530, and was commonly known thereafter by his title rather than his surname, in the same fashion as John ‘Warwick’ Dudley and others. Prior to becoming duke of Suffolk in October 1551, he customarily signed documents ‘Henry Dorssett’.[84] The correspondence written by those to whom he paid pensions always refers to him as Dorset, not Grey.[85] The ‘D’ on the girdle-book may thus be an initial or cipher for Dorset, so that the identity of the sitter depicted in the portrait may be Henry Dorset’s eldest daughter, Lady Jane Grey.

     The physical attributes of the young lady depicted are also consistent with what little is known of Jane’s own physical appearance. The only known eye-witness physical description of Lady Jane Grey is that of Baptista Spinola, a Genovese merchant.[86] Spinola, a wealthy resident of London at the end of the reign of Edward VI, witnessed Jane’s procession to the Tower at the time of her proclamation as queen on 10 July 1553.[87] He describes her as very small, requiring chopines, a type of platform shoe, to give her sufficient height to be seen by the people. Jane was, according to Spinola, very thin with small features. Her hair was ‘nearly red’, possibly referring to the dark brassy or copper color common to Tudor women, including Jane’s cousins Mary and Elizabeth. He describes her eyes as ‘rossi’, identified by Jane’s earliest modern biographer, Richard Davey, as ‘a sort of light hazel often noticed with red hair’.[88] Her skin was lightly freckled. This description corresponds remarkably well with the young woman depicted.

     Indeed, the sitter is remarkable among women depicted in all of Tudor portraiture in that her face is noticeably thin, even hollow-cheeked. This unusual thinness, in the case of Jane Grey, may be the result of a series of illnesses, both physical and emotional, that Jane is known to have suffered. John ab Ulmis, a frequent visitor to the Grey household at Bradgate, refers to a ‘severe and dangerous illness’ from which Jane recovered in early 1552.[89] Jane herself recounts a subsequent episode of severe physical illness in a letter to Queen Mary dated August 1553. Jane claims that her own mother-in-law, the Duchess of Northumberland, attempted for unknown reasons to poison Jane on two occasions in June of 1553 and that as a result all of her hair fell out.[90] Davey, writing at the time of the emergence of modern psychiatry, attributes Jane’s hair-loss symptoms not to actual poisoning but to ‘a kind of nervous breakdown’ (a term used in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries to refer to all manner of female emotional states). He suggests that Jane was prone to psychosomatic disorders, especially during the troubled months of early- and mid-1553, a time that includes the period when the portrait was probably painted (i.e., April–May 1553).[91] ‘Nervous’ symptoms, ranging from thinning of the hair to decreased appetite and weight loss, were not uncommon among religiously devout and ascetic young women such as Jane Grey.[92] Such nervousness, tendency toward asceticism, and the periodic physical illnesses suffered by Lady Jane Grey correlate with the unusual thinness so faithfully depicted by Eworth in this portrait, further suggesting that she is indeed the sitter.

Conclusion
     Though often posthumously depicted, painted, and portrayed, Lady Jane Grey has actually been invisible to a modern viewing audience through lack of any authentic life portrait. Unknown Lady by Hans Eworth, however, contains a number of clues that reasonably suggest identifying the young woman depicted as Lady Jane Grey. The portrait, when read through a sixteenth-century lens, appears to be a pre-marital portrait of a wealthy and noble young woman who dressed demurely, was pious without being prudish, and whose family may have borne a name or title beginning with the letter ‘D’. The young woman’s unusual thinness and other physical features serve, in the context of Eworthian portraiture, to shorten any list of potential identities. When examined in the context of sixteenth-century material culture and identity construction, it is reasonable to suggest that Unknown Lady is a reappearing lost portrait of Lady Jane Grey painted in April or May of 1553 in association with evolving plans to exploit Jane as an instrument for altering the royal succession.
 
 
J. Stephan Edwards
University of Colorado at Boulder
2005 
 
  Acknowledgments:
I would like to express my sincere appreciation to David Scrase and Jane Munro of the University of Cambridge Fitzwilliam Museum for their generous assistance in providing access to the archival files on Fitzwilliam PD.1-1963. My sincere thanks also to Stuart W. Tabbron for his personal generosity in facilitating the  completion of this research project, and to Elizabeth Gould of the Interlibrary Loan Department of Norlin Library, University of Colorado-Boulder, for her ongoing assistance.
     
     
  Addendum:  
 
     Since publication in December 2005 of the article derived from the above research, several scholars have challenged my proposed identification of the sitter as Jane Grey.[93] Those challenges have significant merit. When combined with my own subsequent research, much of which can be found elsewhere on this site, I have concluded that the sitter is indeed unlikely to be Jane Grey. It is certainly not the ‘lost’ portrait itemized in Bess of Hardwick’s inventory of 1565. I have not returned to re-identifying the sitter, preferring instead to leave that task to others while I focus on portraiture of Jane Grey. I do hope that someone will eventually restore this woman’s lost identity, however. I leave the page otherwise intact as a record of my first foray into the fascinating world of portrait history, and as an example of how one scholar’s opinions can change as new knowledge is gained.
 
     
 
 
  NOTES :      
 
[1]
 
Frank Prochaska, The Many Faces of Lady Jane Grey’, History Today 35, no. 10 (October 1985), 34–40.
 
 
     
 
[2]
 
Susan E. James, Lady Jane Grey or Queen Kateryn Parr?’, Burlington Magazine 138, no. 114, January 1996, 20–24.
 
 
     
 
[3]
 
Lady Jane Grey has been the subject of numerous popular biographies, fictional studies, romantic portraits, plays, poems and cinematic films. An Internet search on Google.com, s.v. Lady Jane Grey’, produces no fewer than 19,700 results (date of search 5 November 2004). The most comprehensive single Internet site for images of Lady Jane Grey can be found at The Lady Jane Grey Internet Museum constructed and maintained by Sonja Marie Isaacs.
 
 
     
 
[4]
 
J.W. Goodison, FitzwilliamMuseum, Cambridge, Catalogue of Paintings (Cambridge, 1977), 3: 72–4. See also: Fitzwilliam Museum Catalogue, PD.1-1963
 
 
     
 
[5]
 
Dudley sought Jane’s marriage to a Protestant of appropriate status so that she could produce a male child. That prospective child would have been third in the line of succession, after the Princesses Mary and Elizabeth. In the event, Edward’s health declined faster than anticipated, so that Jane was forced to marry Dudley’s own son and the succession was altered to allow her to assume the throne directly. A detailed analysis of these events will be pursued elsewhere.
 
 
     
 
[6]
 
J.M. Fletcher, Leverhume Trust Fellow, Research Laboratory for Archaeology and the History of Art, Oxford University, to M. Cormack, Fitzwilliam Museum, 22 January 1976, Fitzwilliam Museum file PD.1–1963.
 
 
     
 
[7]
 
Calendar of the Patent Rolls (CPR) preserved in the Public Record Office, Edward VI (Nendeln, Lichtenstein, 1970), 3: 224.
 
 
     
 
[8]
 
Goodison, FitzwilliamMuseum, 3: 72–4.
 
 
     
 
[9]
 
Goodison, FitzwilliamMuseum, 3: 73.
 
 
     
 
[10]
 
Ellis Waterhouse, Painting in Britain, 1530–1790 (London and Baltimore, 1953), 16.
 
 
     
 
[11]
 
Roy Strong, The English Icon: Elizabethan & Jacobean Portraiture (London and New York, 1969), 105.
 
 
     
 
[12]
 
Ellis Waterhouse, Catalogue of the Exhibition of Works by Holbein and other masters (London, 1950–51), 25.
 
 
     
 
[13]
 
J.W. Goodison to R.M.D. Thesiger, Colnaghi &Co., Ltd., 1 February 1963, Fitzwilliam Museum file PD.1–1963. It seems absurd that the identity of the woman should be questioned, excepting that from the date of the costume Mary Tudor must have been at least thirty years of age when it was painted and the woman in the picture looks more like twenty at most’.
 
 
     
 
[14]
 
Hugh Tait, The girdle-prayerbook or ‘tablett’: an important class of Renaissance jewellery at the court of Henry VIII’, Jewellery Studies, 2, 1985, 54–55, n.8.
 
 
     
 
[15]
 
S.T. Bindoff, Penruddocke, Sir George’, The House of Commons 1558–1603, Members M–Z, vol. 3 of The History of Parliament, edited by P.W. Hasler (London, 1981), 198–200.
 
 
     
 
[16]
 
Maurice Howard, The Tudor Image (London, 1995), 7. See also Ann Rosalind Jones and Peter Stallybrass, Renaissance Clothing and the Materials of Memory (Cambridge, 2000), 34 and 38.
 
 
     
 
[17]
 
Roy Strong, The Tudor and Stuart Monarchy: Pageantry, Painting and Iconography (Woodbridge, Suffolk, 1995), 109–11 and plates 85 and 86.
 
 
     
 
[18]
 
Among the eleven relatively well documented Eworth portraits of women other than Mary Tudor, seven are datable to within one year of the sitter’s marriage. Four of those seven occur as one of a pair depicting both husband and wife. A twelfth portrait, one of a fifth husband-wife pair, is also certainly a marriage portrait, judging by the age of the sitters (collection of Major J.D. Chichester-Clark). Of two portraits of Mary Neville, Lady Dacre, one is a single-panel double portrait of her and her son at the time of his marriage, while the second depicts Lady Dacre seated before her husband’s portrait fifteen years after his death. Marriage is thus a key theme in Eworth portraiture specifically. See Strong, Tudor and Stuart Monarchy, plates 88, 91–97, 100–101, 103, 111, 117.
 
 
     
 
[19]
 
David Howarth, Images of Rule: Art and Politics in the English Renaissance, 1485–1649 (Berkeley, 1997), 96. See also Erna Auerbach, Tudor Artists (London, 1954), 74.
 
 
     
 
[20]
 
Reproduced in John Rowlands, Holbein: The Paintings of Hans Holbein the Younger (Oxford, 1985), plates 104 and 26, respectively.
 
 
     
 
[21]
 
Reproduced in Rowlands, Holbein, plates 98 and 99.
 
 
     
 
[22]
 
Reproduced in Strong, Tudor and Stuart Monarchy, vol. 1, plates 94–95 and 96–97, respectively.
 
 
     
 
[23]
 
For those women who can be identified and for whom the portrait is reliably datable, the date of the portrait corresponds to the year in which they were married. See Strong, Tudor and Stuart Monarchy, vol. 1, plates 88, 89, 98, 110, 117, and 122.
 
 
     
 
[24]
 
The Courtauld Gallery at Somerset House, introduction by John Murdoch (London and New York, 1988), 39.
 
 
     
 
[25]
 
Strong, Tudor and Stuart Monarchy, 1: 101.
 
 
     
 
[26]
 
Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (DNB), 2004 edition, s.v. Thomas Wyndham’.
 
 
     
 
[27]
 
Strong, Tudor and Stuart Monarchy, 1: 110.
 
 
     
 
[28]
 
Strong, Tudor and Stuart Monarchy, 1: 124. Strong notes that neither the artist attribution nor the sitter’s identity is certain.
 
 
     
 
[29]
 
Strong, Tudor and Stuart Monarchy, 1: 125. See also DNB, s.v. Henry Fitzalan’.
 
 
     
 
[30]
 
Strong, Tudor and Stuart Monarchy, 1: 126. See also DNB, s.v. Thomas Wriothesley’. The person commissioning the portrait, whether father or son, may have become acquainted with Eworth a decade earlier during the years of Dudley’s ascendancy and thus chosen to patronize the familiar former (by 1566) royal portraitist.
 
 
     
 
[31]
 
Ann Rosalind Jones and Peter Stallybrass, Renaissance Clothing and the Materials of Memory (Cambridge, 2000), 3–4.
 
 
     
 
[32]
 
Jones and Stallybrass, Renaissance Clothing, 3–4.
 
 
     
 
[33]
 
Jones and Stallybrass, Renaissance Clothing, 38.
 
 
     
 
[34]
 
Jones and Stallybrass, Renaissance Clothing, 35.
 
 
     
 
[35]
 
The Parliamentary History of England, from the earliest period to the year 1803 (London: Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, & Browne, 1806), 1:580. A total of forty-eight peers were summoned to the Parliament of 1547. No list of peers is given for the Parliament of 1552.
 
 
     
 
[36]
 
Henry Fitzalan, Earl of Arundel had two daughters: Jane, who married John Lumley in 1550, and Mary, who married Thomas Howard (later Duke of Norfolk) in 1554. John de Vere, Earl of Oxford had one daughter, Katherine, who married Edward, Lord Windsor sometime between 1553 and 1558. Edward, Earl of Derby’s four daughters also all married during the early- to mid-1550s, though the exact dates are not known. John Dudley, Earl of Warwick (elevated to Duke of Northumberland on 11 October 1552) had three daughters. The eldest, Jane Dudley, was by 1550 already married to Henry Seymour, son of Lord Protector Seymour. Mary Dudley (b. ca. 1532) married Henry Sidney (later Lord Deputy in Ireland) in 1551. The third daughter, Catherine, was married to Henry Hastings, son and heir of the Earl of Huntingdon, in May 1553. A fourth daughter, Temperance, died unmarried in 1552.
 
 
     
 
[37]
 
Frances Brandon was the only surviving child of Mary Tudor, Henry VIII’s younger sister and former Queen of France, and Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. At the time of the marriage, Frances was legally Henry VIII’s sole heir, though Anne Boleyn would give birth to the Princess Elizabeth shortly after Henry and Frances Grey’s marriage. Princess Mary was excluded as a bastard by the terms of Henry’s divorce from Katherine of Aragon. Henry’s sister Margaret Tudor had married into Scotland, so that her many children, including her child-king son, James V of Scotland, were excluded under an Act of Parliament of 1351 debarring persons of foreign birth from inheriting the English crown. Thus Henry VIII’s closest living and legal heirs in early 1533 were Frances and Eleanor Brandon, the two daughters of Mary Tudor Brandon, Duchess of Suffolk.
 
 
     
 
[38]
 
CPR, Edward VI, 5: 409.
 
 
     
 
[39]
 
Hatfield House Library, Salisbury MSS 150, f. 122r.–23r., accessed via microfilm at the Folger Shakespeare Library, Washington, D.C., Folger Microfilm: Hatfield House, Reel 164.39.
 
 
     
 
[40]
 
Stephen Alford, Kingship and Politics in the Reign of Edward VI (Cambridge, 2002), 91–97.
 
 
     
 
[41]
 
Hatfield House Library, Salisbury MSS 150, f. 118r. and 118v., accessed via microfilm at the Folger Shakespeare Library, Washington, D.C., Folger Microfilm: Hatfield House Reel 164.39. See also John ab Ulmis to Conrad Pellican, 29 May 1551, Original Letters Relative to the English Reformation, edited by Hastings Robinson (Cambridge, 1847), 2: 432.
 
 
     
 
[42]
 
Edward VI, The Chronicle and Political Papers of King Edward VI, edited by W.K. Jordan (Ithaca, NY, 1966), 93.
 
 
     
 
[43]
 
A contemporary account of events by a deeply partisan chronicler can be found in Robert Wingfield’s Vitae Mariae Reginae, translated by Diarmaid MacCulloch, in Camden Miscellany, Fourth Series, vol. 29 (London, 1984), 244–268. For modern scholarly treatments of the usurpation plot, see Barrrett L. Beer, Northumberland: The Political Career of John Dudley, Earl of Warwick and Duke of Northumberland (Kent, OH, 1974), 147–156; David Loades, John Dudley, Duke of  Northumberland, 1504–1553 (Oxford, 1996), 230–268.
 
 
     
 
[44]
 
<http://www.fitzmuseum.cam.ac.uk/pharos/collection_pages/northern_pages/PD_1_1963/ TXT> accessed 20 October 2004.
 
 
     
 
[45]
 
Alison J. Carter, Mary Tudor’s Wardrobe’, Costume Society Journal, 18 (1984), 16.
 
 
     
 
[46]
 
My thanks to David L. Newell of the Costume Society of America for this observation.
 
 
     
 
[47]
 
Charles Wriothesley, A Chronicle of England during the reigns of the Tudors, from A.D. 1485 to 1559, edited by William Douglas Hamilton (London, 1877), 2: 93.
 
 
     
 
[48]
 
National Portrait Gallery 4861, Mary I, Hans Eworth, 1554. Reproduced in Strong, Tudor and Stuart Monarchy, plate 118. The undersleeves of this costume are visibly brocaded, however, suggesting that the underskirt is as well.
 
 
     
 
[49]
 
Quoted without citation in John Strype, Historical Collections of the Life and Acts of the Right Reverend Father in God, John Aylmer, Lord Bishop of London in the Reign of Queen Elizabeth (Oxford, 1821), 195–6. The event described occurred before early 1553 since Aylmer left the Grey household at that time to become Archdeacon of Stow. See DNB, 2004, s.v. Aylmer, John’.
 
 
     
 
[50]
 
John Aylmer to Heinrich Bullinger, 23 December 1551, Original Letters Relative to the English Reformation, written during the reigns of King Henry VIII, King Edward VI, and Queen Mary: chiefly from the archives at Zurich, translated by Hastings Robinson (Cambridge, 1846), 1: 278–279.
 
 
     
 
[51]
 
James Haddon to Heinrich Bullinger, August 1552, Original Letters, 283.
 
 
     
 
[52]
 
Yvonne Hackenbroch, Renaissance Jewellery (London: Sotheby Park Bernet, 1979), 285, figure 759. Mary Tudor also possessed a similar but not identical cross-crosslet. See Privy Purse Expenses, 188.
 
 
     
 
[53]
 
See, for example, Eworth’s portraits of Mary Neville, Lady Dacre and her son, or the portrait of Margaret Audley, Duchess of Norfolk, reproduced in Strong, Tudor and Stuart Monarchy, plates 91 and 97, respectively.
 
 
     
 
[54]
 
Daniela Mascetti and Amanda Triossi, The Necklace, From Antiquity to the Present (New York, 1997), 55.
 
 
     
 
[55]
 
An enseigne is a medallion worn as a brooch, pendant, or hat ornament, depicting some story with the principal figures cast in gold and applied with butterfly clips to a gold ground on which all other forms are raised with infinite attention to detail’. The medallion itself may also be set with precious stones. See Hackenbroch, Renaissance Jewellery, 276.
 
 
     
 
[56]
 
The Catholic Encyclopedia, s.v. Esther’. The Jewish feast of Purim commemorates Aman’s casting of lots to determine the date of the destruction of the Jewish people, destruction Esther successfully averted through her pleas to the king.
 
 
     
 
[57]
 
See n.12 above.
 
 
     
 
[58]
 
Waterhouse, Painting in Britain, n. 13 to Chapter 2.
 
 
     
 
[59]
 
Hackenbroch, Renaissance Jewellery, 285.
 
 
     
 
[60]
 
Hackenbroch, Renaissance Jewellery, 281. See also Diana Scarisbrick, Tudor and Jacobean Jewellery (London, 1995). Scarisbrick lists among the popular Old Testament themes for such jewels the stories of the Fall, Joseph and his Brothers, Elijah ascending to Heaven, Jonah and the Whale, Judith and Holofernes, Lot’s wife turning to a pillar of salt, and Daniel defending Susanna from the accusation of the Elders. Among mythological stories, that of Hercules seems to be the most popular.
 
 
     
 
[61]
 
British National Archives, Public Record Office–Kew (PRO), Land Revenue (LR) 2/120, f. 88r and 99r. Dudley presented himself publicly and privately during Edward’s reign as a Protestant, though he apostatized immediately prior to his execution.
 
 
     
 
[62]
 
Hackenbroch, Renaissance Jewellery, 78, figure 180, item L. The design, by Etienne Delaune, displays remarkable similarities to the enseigne in PD.1–1963.
 
 
     
 
[63]
 
Lady Jane Grey to Heinrich Bullinger, 12 July 1551, Original Letters, 1: 5–6.
 
 
     
 
[64]
 
Jane did not become Edward’s immediate heir until Edward signed his own ‘Device for the Succession’ on 15 June 1553. For analysis of Edward’s device, see Alford, Kingship and Politics, 171–73. The device itself is photographically reproduced in Jennifer Loach, Edward VI , edited by George Bernard and Penry Williams (New Haven, CT, 1999), plates 23 and 24.
 
 
     
 
[65]
 
Tait, ‘Girdle-prayerbook’, 29–57.
 
 
     
 
[66]
 
Mirjam M. Foot, The History of Bookbinding as a Mirror of Society (London, 1998), 20.
 
 
     
 
[67]
 
British Library, Harley MS 2342. The book is less than three inches by four inches in dimension. The volume was rebound, probably upon entering the Harley collection, and the original binding is no longer preserved. See P.J.M. Marks, The British Library Guide to Bookbinding History and Techniques (Toronto, 1998), 23–26 for discussion of many early book collectors’ habit of rebinding acquired volumes.
 
 
     
 
[68]
 
Foot, History of Bookbinding, 62.
 
 
     
 
[69]
 
See Paul Needham, Twelve Centuries of Bookbindings, 4001600 (New York, 1979), and Howard M. Nixon, Five Centuries of English Bookbinding (London, 1978), for valuable discussions and examples of well known continental and English binders and binderies.
 
 
     
 
[70]
 
Marks, British Library Guide to Bookbinding, 70.
 
 
     
 
[71]
 
Bernard C. Middleton, A History of the English Craft Bookbinding Technique (New Castle, DE, 1996), 128.
 
 
     
 
[72]
 
J.A. Szirmai, The Archaeology of Medieval Bookbinding (Aldershot, 1999), 261.
 
 
     
 
[73]
 
Foot, History of Bookbinding, 104.
 
 
     
 
[74]
 
Goodison, Fitzwilliam Museum, 72.
 
 
     
 
[75]
 
Foot, History of Bookbinding, 104.
 
 
     
 
[76]
 
Fine Bindings 1500-1700 from Oxford Libraries (Oxford, 1968), 37.
 
 
     
 
[77]
 
Middleton, English Craft Bookbinding, 128. French and English clasps were reversed.
 
 
     
 
[78]
 
This was determined by reviewing the names of every gentleman sitting in Edward VI’s last Parliament (March, 1553) and the first Parliament of Mary I (October–December, 1553). See Parliaments of England, 1213-1702, Part I: Members of Parliament (London, 1878), 378–384. Of three Davids listed in either Parliament, two were grocers and one was an attorney.
 
 
     
 
[79]
 
Parliaments of England, 378–384.
 
 
     
 
[80]
 
Catherine Dudley was married to Henry, Lord Hastings, son of the Earl of Huntingdon, cementing an alliance between those families. Jane Grey was married to Guildford Dudley, strengthening the existing Dudley-Grey alliance. Jane’s younger sister Katherine was contracted to the eldest son of Dudley’s ally William Herbert, Earl of Pembroke. Lastly, Jane’s eight-year-old sister Mary was contracted to Arthur, Lord Grey, the son of another Dudley ally, William, Baron Grey of Wilton.
 
 
     
 
[81]
 
Contemporary written physical descriptions of women in the sixteenth century, other than royal women, are very rare, posing a problem and an irritation to modern scholars. Vague terms such as ‘fair’ or ‘dark’, ‘comely’ or ‘pretty’ predominate.
 
 
     
 
[82]
 
Needham, Twelve Centuries of Bookbindings, 184, item 56. The book, William Buckley’s Arithmetica memorativa, PML MS MA2601, is a manuscript on paper and was bound specifically for presentation.
 
 
     
 
[83]
 
The Dudleys were imprisoned in the Beauchamp Tower portion of the Tower of London. Their extensive graffiti carvings are still prominently visible around one of the fireplaces.
 
 
     
 
[84]
 
See Hatfield House Library, Salisbury MSS 150, ff.116 and 118v. for examples of Dorset’s autograph signature in 1548–9. Folger microfilm Hatfield House 164.39.
 
 
     
 
[85]
 
See Original Letters, letters of John ab Ulmis, John Aylmer and others for this usage.
 
 
     
 
[86]
 
Richard Davey, The Nine Days Queen: Lady Jane Grey and Her Times (London, 1909), 104. Davey quotes without citation a letter in the Genovese Archives’ by Baptista Spinola. All subsequent studies of Jane Grey reference Davey for her physical appearance, with no further archival citation for the Spinola letter. Without ready access to those archives, this paper must repeat that method for quoting the letter.
 
 
     
 
[87]
 
CPR, Edward VI, 4:280–1. On 10 March 1552, Spinola and ninety-nine other individuals were granted letters of denization, or full rights of residency, by warrant of the king.
 
 
     
 
[88]
 
Davey, Nine Days Queen, 253.
 
 
     
 
[89]
 
John ab Ulmis to Henry Bullinger, 5 February 1552, Original Letters, 446–448.
 
 
     
 
[90]
 
Lady Jane Grey to Queen Mary, August 1553, quoted in full in Girolamo Pollini, L’Historia Ecclesiastica della Rivoluzion d’Inghilterra, divisa in Libri Quattro (Rome, 1594), 358. ...due volte in questo tempo m’èstato dato il veleno, la prima fù in Casa la Duchessa di Nortumberland, e di poi quì in Torre, si come io n’ho ottimi e certissimi testimoni, oltrechè, da quel tempo in quà, mi son caduti tutti i peli d’addosso’. A sixteenth-century French transcription of the letter is reputed to exist in a Bruges archive. The original is apparently no longer extant.
 
 
     
 
[91]
 
Davey, Nine Days Queen, 237.
 
         
 
[92]
 
On the subject of female asceticism and religious piety and their physical manifestations, see Caroline Walker Bynum, Holy Feast, Holy Fast: The Religious Significance of Food to Medieval Women (Berkeley, 1987), and Rudolph M. Bell, Holy Anorexia (Chicago, 1985).
 
 
     
 
[93]
 
The first of these was Hope Walker in an entry entitled “A Portrait of Lady Jane Dormer, Later Duchess of Feria?”, in the exhibiition catalgoue Lost Faces: Identity and Discovery in Tudor Portraiture (London: Philip Mould, 2007, pp.86–87).
 
 
 
 
 
    Introduction to Portraiture of Lady Jane Grey
 
    The Althorp Portrait     The Anglesey Abbey Portrait  
                 
    The Bodleian Library Portrait     The Chawton House–Hever Castle Portrait  
                 
    The Elliot–Gedling House Portrait     The Houghton Hall Portrait  
                 
    The Jersey Portrait     The King’s College Portrait  
                 
    The Madresfield Court Portrait     The Melton Constable Hall Portrait  
                 
    The Norris Portrait     The Northwick Park Portrait  
                 
    The Portland Portrait     The Rotherwas Portrait  
                 
    The Somerley Portrait     The Streatham Portrait  
                 
    The Syon House Portrait     The van de Passe Engraved Portrait  
                 
    The Wrest Park Portrait     The Yale Miniature  
                 
    Other Portraits Called
‘Lady Jane Grey’
         
                 

 

 

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