A Curious Portrait In Which the New Countess of Southampton Poses With a Dog That Is Wearing an Elizabethan Ruff (Ruff) Doggie Collar

Above: Portrait of Elizabeth Vernon Countess of Southampton in Her Boudoir by Unknown Artist c. 1600 (Private collection Duke of Buccleuch and Queensberry, Scanned from Aileen Ribeiro, image via Wikicommons)

The excellent portrait above, artist unknown, is one of my Elizabethan favorites. Elizabeth Vernon was married to the 3rd Earl of Southampton, Henry Wriothesley, who was equally fond of his own hair (see below). Although it seems likely Henry was bisexual, he and Elizabeth--to judge by their affectionate letters--enjoyed a happy marriage. Elizabeth's portrait appears to have been painted a few years before the failed Essex rebellion which landed her husband Henry in the Tower of London for years (along with his pet cat Trixie). It's likely that the portrait was made to commemorate her marriage to the earl in 1598 (in which case she is already pregnant). They were married behind Elizabeth's back. Henry then fled England and left his new wife to face the queen's wrath over their secret marriage.
   
In the portrait, Elizabeth is wearing a waistcoat decorated with flowers over a rose-colored corset and showing quite a bit of skin for an Elizabethan women. It looks to me like a detached partlet, which will cover some of that skin, is hanging from her neck ruff on the purple curtain. Her petticoat is embroidered with all sorts of plants and cool insects (insects were in fashion and were even a popular shape for brooches). But the scene is stolen in some ways by the jewelry-box still life and its pin cushion. The details shown there makes me wonder if an established miniaturist such as Hilliard or Oliver might have painted the portrait. 

A video recently popped up on my youtube that made me recall this portrait of Elizabeth Vernon in her boudoir. The video, by a contributor called Priorattire, demonstrated the step-by-step agony of dressing an Elizabethan woman endured every day (see bottom of post).

Above: bling-box detail from unknown artist's portrait of the Countess of Southampton (Private collection Duke of Buccleuch and Queensberry, image via Wikicommons)

Above: The inscription on the comb reads, "menez moi doucement," which means "handle/lead me gently" (Private collection Duke of Buccleuch and Queensberry, image via Wikicommons)

Above: stylish doggie wearing ruff collar. (Private collection Duke of Buccleuch and Queensberry)

Above: 3rd Earl of Southampton c. 1593 (Cobbe Family Collection; image from wikicommons).

How X-raying One Portrait Would Solve An Ancient Mystery About Shakespeare's Sonnets

Above mash-up: Trixie the Cat by de Critz, Elizabeth I by soc-alled Zucarro, and Henry Wriothesley, the 3rd Earl of Southampton, by Unknown (Cobbe Collection)

For centuries now Shakespeare scholars have been trying to ascertain the identity of the sonnet's "Fair Youth," the consensus being the young man in question was likely Henry Wriothesley, the 3rd Earl of Southampton. Wriothesley was the son of Mary Browne, the woman portrayed in the below portrait; however there has long been some suspicion that Henry Wriothesley's biological mother might have been a woman far more regal (see above mash up).

Above the Cobbe Southampton (left) and the Countess of Southampton Mary Browne from Portland Collection (right)

 

The Oxfordian's Prince Tudor theory supposes that the sonnet's "Fair Youth" was the illegitimate son of Elizabeth I and therefore a possible heir to her throne at her death. To its credit, the Prince Tudor theory is one of the very few theories ever to make sense of Shakespeare's sonnets (or, for that matter, the Essex Rebellion). And it's important to note that the Prince Tudor theory exists on all sides of the authorship debate: everyone admits that the fair youth of the sonnets is mysteriously addressed in language reserved for royalty.

In the Prince Tudor theory, the "dark lady" of the sonnets becomes Queen Elizabeth I, and the sonnets themselves become a plea to an effeminate young son with royal blood to marry and strengthen his claim to the throne by fathering sons.  Hank Whittemore's blog will take over in detailing the Prince Tudor theory, which is too complicated for this post.

Many Oxfordians who have embraced the Prince Tudor theory believe Edward de Vere fathered Southampton with Elizabeth I.  (Roland Emmerich's movie Anonymous partially incorporates this theory.) And it has to be conceded that rumors abounded in the 1570's that the young de Vere and the middle-aged Queen might be sharing a bed. In many ways the PT argument has divided the Oxfordian movement. Some would argue that the Prince Tudor theorists have underminded the original movement by opening it to ridicule.  But the theory actually seems to be growing in popularity.

That said, the Prince Tudor theory has run into one giant obstacle: the portrait of Mary Browne, kept in the collection of the Duke of Portland, which reveals an uncanny resemblance between Mary Browne and her son the future 3rd Earl of Southampton. This twin-like resemblance would seems to put an end to the Prince Tudor theory. 

Only one argument can save the Prince Tudor theory, and it sounds far-fetched, but it is possible that the portrait of Mary Browne, which shows an almost twin-like resemblance between mother and son, is a manipulated picture, and that overpaint was applied for political reasons in order to increase the resemblance of mother to son. In this scenario, the purpose of this manipulation would have been to quell rumors of Southampton being Elizabeth's bastard.

There are reasons to suspect the portrait has been manipulated, the first being the resemblance is almost too strong between mother and son. Mary Browne appears to have the face and body of a boy, and she's even depicted with bags under her eyes. This is beyond unusual in a portrait supposedly given as a present to Mary's betrothed, the 2nd Earl of Southampton, prior to their marriage. One would think a more fetching likeness would have been coerced out of the painter.

Then there is this red flag: a utterly unique tag worn on the sitter's chest that states her betroth's name. I have never seen such a tag in any example of Tudor portraiture, and it hits me as a bit convenient.  

Tag Stating Sold to the Earl of Southampton.

The portrait also contained some telltale tide lines indicating a manipulated portrait. The background, for instance, appears to be awash with overpainting. This green swirling background has likely been applied over whatever backdrop originally existed. So what lurks beneath the tide-line overpaint? Could an inscription be there?

(click for larger image)

 

 Unlike its background, the portrait's provenance seems sound enough. Currently in the Portland Collection, it was listed in 1731 accounting of Wriothesley's Titchfield House. As far as I can tell, this is our only existing depiction of the Countess. 

 

In regard to the picture of Mary Browne, there is one portrait in the Yale Center for British Art that warrants some attention. The portrait, seen below, depicts a young, unknown woman painted approximately two years later than the portrait of Mary Browne. This unknown woman is wearing a similar costume with a raised collar guarded in figure-eight ruffles (in this case dyed along the edges). Both costumes are decorated along the sleeves with puffs. The sleeves are heavily stuffed with bombast at the wings yet otherwise adhere closer to the body. But unlike the portrait of Mary Browne, the Yale portrait is beautifully rendered with the detailed backdrop. It's quite a lovely picture.  

 

Unknown woman by unknown artist 1567 (Yale Center for British Arts)

 

X-raying the portrait of Mary Browne would either eliminate the Prince Tudor theory entirely or establish that the portrait was manipulated perhaps for political reasons. No matter the results, we'll be a lot closer to the truth. I'd suggest that Oxfordians start petitioning the Portland Collection to test the portrait. One series of spectral tests could solve a 400-year-old mystery and help us to better understand Shakespeare's sonnets.

Related link: Hank Whittemore's Blog on Shakespeare's Sonnets