My Final Argument that the Portrait of an Unknown Fashion Fantastico in North Carolina Depicts the Privateer Sir Thomas Cavendish

Above: Unknown Gent (left, NCMA 67.13.4) & Sir Thomas Cavendish (right, image via Alamy.com)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This distinguished-looking gent, decked out in a fabulous gold-leaf fleur-de-lis doublet, lives anonymously inside the North Carolina Museum of Art, where his keepers refer to him affectionately as "Mr. Fancy Pants." To my eye, the sitter bears an uncanny resemblance to a number of confirmed portraits of Sir Thomas Cavendish, the English privateer who claimed to have burned over a hundred Spanish ships. Cavendish, an aristocrat known as "the Navigator," was the third man to ever circumnavigate the globe. I'm convinced the portrait does depict Cavendish, and this post will attempt to present the evidence via an examination of the portrait's provenance, costume, pigments, and also the impresa (or visual riddle) posed by the enigmatic thunderstorms painted in the upper-left-hand corner.

Above: Unknown Man (North Carolina Museum of Art, left) & Sir Thomas Cavendish in 1591 by Gheeraerts the Younger (image taken for educational purposes from Ashelford's book DRESS IN THE TIME OF ELIZABETH). The painting of Cavendish is owned by the Trustees of the Will of the 8th Duke of Berkeley. Note that both men are wearing peascod doublets above the bum-rolls trunk hose that came into fashion during the 1580's.  

Below: close-up comparison between unknown gent (MCMA) and Sir Thomas Cavendish by Gheeraerts. Click on the image for a higher-resolution comparison.

 

Let's begin with a blog post provided by the North Carolina Museum of Art stating their theory that this unknown man was likely an Elizabethan privateer. Dr. Perry Hurt, one of the museum's associate conservators, noted that the portrait had been painted using actual gold and silver leaf as well as an expensive red dye called cochineal (derived from the insect of that name found in the Americas). Hunt believed these three materials were used in the portrait to reflect the Spanish booty brought home to England by the unknown privateer in the portrait. So let's begin this argument by stating that Sir Thomas Cavendish was indeed a famous privateer who specialized in plundering the Spanish of gold, silver, and cochineal prior to being lost at sea during his attempt to be the first man to circle the globe twice.

Now let's have a look in the upper-left corner at the portrait's impresa. Elizabethans loved these visual riddles, but this one seems easy to solve.

Above: detail from portrait of an unknown gent kept in the North Carolina Museum of Art.

 The device depicts a series of sinister storm clouds raining onto what appears to be a blue iris with the French motto SANS ORAGE ("without storm") sheltering the flower. I would take the meaning to be something akin to: without hardship you get no Spanish booty. But what's more important is that Cavendish had at least one other portrait of himself painted standing beneath similar storm clouds while garbed garishly in gold.

 

Above: Unknown Man (North Carolina Museum of Art  NCMA.67.13.4) & "Portrait of Sir Thomas Cavendish" by John Bettes (image from Flickr).

Below: detail of thunder storms perched over Cavendish's left shoulder.

 

More evidence the sitter is Cavendish can be found inside the museum in Raleigh, North Carolina, where the portrait now resides. The museum's collection of British portraits contains 25 pictures total. Yet four of the sitters are confirmed members of the Cavendish family. Interestingly I had no idea this was the case when I first suggested to the museum their sitter was Cavendish. It's quite the coincidence but perhaps nothing more than that, because the family that donated the known Cavendish portraits is not the same family who donated Mr. Fancy Pants. But then again perhaps there is some connection between the two families; it would be nice to know if that were the case.

A portrait of Sir Thomas Cavendish in North Carolina makes perfect sense in that he played a key role in the history of that area. The Fort Raleigh websites recalls Cavendish in this way:

Thomas Cavendish also played an important role in the expeditions know as the Roanoke Voyages. In 1585 he participated with Sir Richard Grenville in planting the Ralph Lane colony by bringing his ship Elizabeth to the area now known as North Carolina.

It seems likely the picture was painted c. 1588 when Cavendish returned to England after circumnavigating the globe. His ship Desire contained incredible wealth in its hold. He was knighted by Elizabeth I, who was so impressed with his booty she accepted his invitation to sup with him on his ship. 

An examination of the costume supports the date of c. 1588. The bombast stuffing of the mid-to-late 1580s can be seen in the sitter's bishop (or farthingale) style sleeves, in his pronounced peascod doublet, and in his upper trunk hose (the style was called a mini bum roll). There are no wings at the shoulder of the doublet, which is also consistent with c. 1588. The sitter is wearing a gorget around his neck, which was a fashionable way to let everyone know you've fought in battles, which Cavendish certainly had. The sitter is also adorned by a sash that was perhaps a favor from Queen Elizabeth (the beautiful sash is painted with real gold and silver). His hair style is consistent with c. 1588 as he is sporting the hyper popular Armada Perm just as it is giving way to the longer rock-star hair styles of the 1590's. However the fall collar of Italian cutwork seems more consistent with the 1590's. Cavendish was lost sea in 1592. His portrait by Gheeraerts the Younger was painted in 1591.

We don't know who painted the North Carolina portrait, although its hard not to suspect Gheeraerts the Younger. However the use of real gold and silver as pigments might indicate a portrait painted by Nicholas Hilliard, who was known to employ those precious metals in that way. Although Hilliard is famous for his portrait miniatures, he also painted some in-large portraits. Take all that with a grain of salt, as it is pure speculation.

The portrait of the unknown man was donated to the museum in 1967 by Mr. and Mrs. James MacLamroc, who also donated at least two other excellent portraits to the museum. One of these portraits appears, to my eye, to depict the privateer Sir Frances Drake. It's hard not to suspect a nautical theme inside the MacLamroc collection. These portraits had unfortunately been misidentified centuries earlier. The museum acknowledges the current inscription on them are incorrect. 

It's also worth mentioning that the Cavendish clan came to England from Normandy, or at least believed they did, so the French motto and embroidered fleur-de-lis might well reflect that heritage.

 

Below: comparison of left hands from the same two portraits. The hand on the right is the unknown man's. The confirm Cavendish portrait (right) is owned by the Trustees of the Will of the 8th Duke of Berkeley

Above: the portrait of Cavendish selected for David B. Quinn's book would seem to be copy of the Gheeraerts' portrait, perhaps created in the same studio, that simply substituted a different yet equally flamboyant costume onto the sitter. This portrait is owned, I believe, by the Marquess of Bath and is used here for educational purposes.

The Work of a Moment: the Mysterious Ghost Girl Portrait in the North Carolina Museum of Art

Above:detail from NCMA.67.13.6

The most curious portrait I've come across in a long time, and maybe ever, is this portrait of a long-necked Elizabethan or Jacobean ghost girl who bears a spooky resemblance to the famously long-necked and ultimately beheaded Anne Boleyn. The sitter also resembles Boleyn's daughter Queen Elizabeth I.

 

I have no idea what to make of this portrait, which resides inside a small but impressive collection of mysteriously unidentified English portraits in the North Carolina Museum of Art.

 

The portrait, and costume, seem intent on emphasizing her long neck offset with a jagged choker and a blood-red heart pendant. Combined with the thick white make-up this creates an altogether spooky effect Tim Burton would approve. Who is this ghost-girl courtier? 

Above: beautiful detail from NCMA.67.13.6

 

Detail: Unknown Woman NCMA left hand with cord-tied ring

This small collection in the North Carolina Museum of Art has some beautiful Elizabethan and Jacobean portraits. I need to visit there soon.

From the North Carolina Museum of Art website:

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).

A Courtier In White Spurned by Queen Elizabeth I: Is he Raleigh or de Vere?

 Detail from A Courtier and His Lady by Circle of Marcus Gheeraerts (private collection). Photograph taken from a print hung in my living room. I've been going back and forth on this portrait for decades now, but I think I've finally concluded, to my satisfaction at least, who the sitter is. See below post for details.

I have a print of this portrait hung in my living room and for decades now have been debating whether the shunned courtier in white, posing before a powerful woman with her back turned to him, is Sir Walter Raleigh or Edward de Vere. I once wrote a blog post arguing it was Raleigh. Then I began to suspect it was de Vere. And now I've reversed my opinion again and believe it's Raleigh. But there are still a lot of unanswered questions regarding this portrait.

I recently learned from Stella Samaras, a reader of this blog, that a catalogue available from Weiss Gallery ("Tudor and Stewart Portraits 1530-1600") written by Mark Weiss, with the assistance of Sir Roy Strong, attributed this portrait not to Robert Peake but to the circle of Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger and dates the picture to c. 1590-1595. As to this date, my first reaction was surprised that the wrist ruffles didn't cause Weiss to date the picture to 1584 or earlier since ruffles were replaced by cuffs around then. But we will get to that discussion in a moment.

The catalogue states the portrait was at some point "dramatically overpainted." The courtier was scamped with a head of dark hair, a beard, and a hat "so that he better resembled Sir Walter Raleigh." Stranger yet, the woman in the background so resembling Elizabeth I (with her back turned significantly to the male courtier) was overpainted out of the portrait entirely. And the inscription "Sir. Walt. Rawleigh" was added to the upper right corner.   

Note that in the portrait of Raleigh below he has cuffs instead of ruffles. The inscription, if accurate, establishes the portrait was painted in 1588, a few years after wrist ruffles went out of style, so the cuffs fit the inscribed date. As does the bombast stuffing in the bishop sleeves, the giant buttons on the doublet, and the Armada perm. This is in fact a textbook 1588 portrait.

Sir Walter Raleigh (NPG London; image via wikicommons). Note that in this 1588 portrait he was wearing cuffs, not wrist ruffles. If you look into the upper left corner you will see a painting of a moon above the sea, which was an emblem expressing Raleigh's devotion to Elizabeth, the moon goddess Diana who controlled the tides of the sea.

Regarding the woman shunning the courtier, the Weiss catalogue explains, "Closer examination of this figure in black reveals she has reddish hair, wears a coronet and carries a feather fan. . . . Around her neck she wears what is perhaps not just a necklace, but possibly a larger chain denoting an office or order. Could this image be of anyone else other than the Queen herself?"

Well, I think it's fair to assume the woman is Queen Elizabeth, but of course we can't be certain. This raises the question as to why any restorer would paint the queen out of the picture? Was this the act of somebody purposely trying to devalue a portrait or an act of political censorship? This portrait is a narrative and whoever overpainted this woman destroyed the story being told while devaluing the picture. To me that reeks of a political decision, but that is of course speculation. 

Note: The above photograph was taken of the print hung in my living room

I've also assumed, without any real evidence, that the portrait was set in the Tower of London, where the contrite nobleman had been imprisoned by Elizabeth I. (Southampton had a portrait of himself painted in the Tower shortly after he was released, so maybe this courtier did the same.) De Vere was held in the Tower in 1581 for siring a bastard. Raleigh was thrown in the Tower for the first time in 1591 for getting married without permission. So which courtier is depicted? And when was it painted?    

The identification of the painter as "circle of Gheeraerts" might suggest that the portrait was created as a ploy to regain favor with the queen. Sir Henry Lee employed Gheeraerts to this same purpose with the Ditchley portrait of Elizabeth I. Sir Roy Strong once noted that Gheeraert's influence on courtly portraits could be seen as early as 1586.   

Emblem upper right: the moon governing the sea (NPG London image via wikicommons).

Since the portrait in question is privately owned, its identification can best be resolved (if at all) via costume dating. Is the peascod doublet with padded bishop-style sleeves sans wings plus tilted French linen figure-of-eight collar 1581 or 1590?

When I wrote Mark Weiss regarding the portrait, he was kind enough to correct me on a few points. He also mentioned that he was unaware that wrist ruffs went out of style in the early 1580's (and wisely cautioned me that fashion cut-off points were not absolute). Mr. Weiss further stated he would inquire with the costume expert Susan North at the V&A regarding cuffs. I emailed him back an excerpt from a letter already written by Susan North on that subject of wrist ruffles to Barbara Burris (regarding another mystery portrait) that stated in no uncertain terms that ruffles went out of fashion in the 1580's:

"I would agree that the dress does not appear to date from 1611 . . . The general shape of the doublet with close fitting sleeves and a waistline dipping only slightly below its natural place in front corresponds with men’s dress of the 1570’s . . . Regarding your comments on the wrist ruffs, I agree that those go out of fashion in the 1580’s."

So, for a while at least, I was left believing it might be de Vere pictured in the Tower c. 1581, but since then two things changed my mind. The first was that I came upon a portrait of Raleigh at the National Portrait Gallery of Ireland wearing very similar type wrist decorations in 1598.  (One likely mistake I made was assuming these were wrist ruffles when they were, strictly speaking, extensions of a wavy transparent linen fabric more like a fall collar.) Then I realized how small Raleigh's thumbs were, almost baby thumbs. That same tiny thumb is clearly visible in our mystery portrait. (Many thanks to Graham Appleyard for pointing out the childlike size of the hands in the comments section.) This, to me, was the deciding factor: the tiny thumb pointed at Raleigh.

 But, again, that's hardly conclusive evidence.

One other consideration is the buttons on the doublet appear to be decorated with seed pearls, and pearls were a personal symbol for Raleigh that turn up in many of his portraits (see below example). However I haven't been able to confirm these are seed pearls on the buttons. If they are, then that's would seem to settle the matter.

Sir Walter Raleigh by William Seger 1598 (National Portrait Gallery Ireland, image via wikicommons). In this portrait Raleigh's costume is fabulously decorated with pearls. His wrist extensions are a transparent stached linen similar to those worn by the Courtier in White.

It's worth noting that the glove visible in the portrait is not a gauntlet. Gauntlets, with their large and decorated wrist coverings, came into fashion in the 1590's. So there's still confusion about when the picture was painted, but I suspect it's Raleigh. The confirmed 1598 portrait of Raleigh shows a courtier much older looking than the unknown courtier in white. With all this in mind, I have to agree with Mark Weiss that this is likely a portrait of Raleigh c. 1592. That date coincides with Raleigh's release from the Tower of London. The portrait might well have been a gift to Elizabeth designed to show repentance and/or gratitude.

Above: This portrait of Horace Vere by G. Glower from 1594 (image from wikicommons) shows an nearly identical jerkin as that worn by the Courtier in White. There are no wings at the shoulder and the peascod bulge is extended. White was the fashionable color for the later years of Elizabeth's reign.

See also the post: 20 Essential Questions To Ask When Attempting To Date An Elizabethan Portrait By Costume. 
 

Special thanks to Stella Samaras for setting me straight about the Weiss Gallery write up and also to Graham Appleyard for pointing out the child-like hands of the sitter. 

Below: the controversial Ashbourne Portrait of Shakespeare mid-cleaning 1988 (Folger Shakespeare Library, left) & Gheeraerts' Courtier in White (private collection, right)

Above: ruffles instead of cuffs plus a glove lacking a gauntlet

The Folger Shakespeare Library owns the Ashbourne portraits seen above. 

Turning a Blind Eye: The Unton Memorial Portrait Reconsidered

 Above: NPG 710 Called Sir Henry Unton Memorial Portrait (artist unknown)   

Turning a Blind Eye: the Unton Memorial Portrait Reconsidered

"Although retouching and overpainting are very extensive, microscopic examination implies that the original paint layers are in reasonable condition . . ."  NPG file Unton Memorial Portrait

Part One: This Is Not Sir Henry Unton

I first came across the NPG memorial picture about eight years ago while sitting in the Elizabethan garden outside the Folger Shakespeare Library in DC. Waiting for the library to open, I had just turned a page on Roy Strong’s book The Cult of Elizabeth when I saw a portrait I assumed depicted Will Shakespeare. The large bust centered in the portrait seemed to combine elements from his Chandos portrait with the bust in Stratford’s Trinity Church. (Even Strong acknowledges the bust in the writerly memorial portrait is presented in the style of Shakespeare's.) Posing before a green curtain, this Shakespeare stand-in had been immortalized behind a table bearing inkwell and paper while in the act of writing. Stranger yet, the Angel of Fame was blowing her trumpet into the sitter's right ear while offering him the Crown of Triumph.  Fame, triumph, curtains, ink, paper, pen, etc, it's no wonder I assumed this dead writer was Shakespeare.

The NPG's memorial portrait, painted on a wooden panel five feet wide by two feet tall, presents the counterclockwise narrative of a man's life moving from birth to funeral rites with all these life episodes orbiting the sitter's central bust. Stranger yet, the sun, located upper right, cast rays of light connecting it to the main sitter in all his incarnations throughout the mural. And although its possible to categorize the portrait, as Roy Strong does, as a “story picture,” this mural is 100% unique. As far as we know, nothing resembling it was created during Queen Elizabeth’s reign. We don't know who painted the portrait, although I'm told the The British Arts Journal will soon publish a paper proposing an artist. 

Nor can we  be certain when the portrait was painted, although its costumes, specifically the figure-of-eight linen ruff collars (which at times appears layered in the bust) would seem to indicate c. c.1580-1600. At other moments in the portrait's narrative these ruffs appear to be fluted in tubular sets. To my eye the costumes presented are such a hodgepodge that attempting to date the portrait by fashion might be a mistake. (Do the costumes in the birth scene reflect the fashion during the year of the sitter's birth or during the time the portrait was painted?) Sir Roy Strong has no such doubts and states with great confidence that the costumes establishes the date of the portrait to be c. 1596, the year of Unton's death, but Strong gives no examples to support this claim in his essay on the mural. 

As to the central bust, the sitter is sporting cuffs at the wrist, so the portrait is very likely post 1583. But what's most interesting--and Strong misses this entirely--is the sham sleeve that is repeatedly seen hanging behind the sitter's left shoulder. The sitter does not appear to be wearing a mandilion with one sleeve hanging fashionably loose; instead he is wearing one jerkin (or jacket) sleeve unbuttoned and purposely hanging loose (thereby exposing the doublet sleeve beneath the jerkin). As Cunngington states in the Handbook of English Costume in the 16th Century, "Thus to wear one [sleeve] and leave the other to hang was the vogue during the 1580's" Yet Strong insists on dating the costume to be 1596. 

Infrared testing reveals the sitter's nose was originally hooked in appearance. The sitter's bushy haircut befits the mid-to-late 1580's (famous for the Armada perm), but, that said, I think the portrait has been too greatly mistreated to date it with any accuracy via fashion.

It has been suggested that the great miniaturist Nicholas Hilliard might have painted the portrait, which includes dozens of tiny courtiers pictured throughout the narrative span. As Strong notes in his essay The Ambassador, these courtiers appear to be depictions of specific people. The various landscapes likewise appear to have been modeled on specific locales distinguished by anomalies (and some of these locals cannot be attached to the known travels of Sir Henry Unton). So what we are left with is a staggeringly precise mural designed for the purpose of identifying and immortalizing a famous writer of great fame and triumph. And this is exactly where our problems begin, because Sir Henry Unton was not famous, he was not a writer of any note, and his life was far, far from triumphant.  

Strong's essay ignores any details that contradict the Unton narrative. His only comment on why the sitter is posing as a writer is that, "He seems the perfect civil servant poised to jot down instructions." It does occur to Strong that "jotting down instructions" is not an act that has historically wooed the Angel of Fame nor has it ever merited a Crown of Triumph. Strong also notes that, "The insert scenes recall the glories attained by the house of Unton under Sir Henry," yet Strong fails to elaborate on what these glories were. (Uton's estate was left in ruins after his death.) The truth is we have a portrait of a famous writer here--that's obvious--but which famous writer is it?

Sir Henry Unton never penned poem, play, masque, history, pamphlet, or novel. And even Strong admits that Unton lived a life of pitfalls and described his own life as “clownish.” So why does the Angel of Fame offer Unton the Crown of Triumph not once but twice in this portrait? And why, in the depiction of the tomb's effigies, is there a statue of a woman--whom Strong identifies as Lady Unton--gesturing with reverence to a pedestal supporting books? Also, why is there a wyvern (a winged dragon) above this tomb when that mythological beast was not associated with the Unton clan or with his wife's family. And why is there another wyvern above the gate to the sitter's house when Unton's heraldic beast was the greyhound? Sir Roy Strong does not provide explanations for any of these mysteries. He simply ignores them.

After leaving DC, I contacted the NPG to purchase some historical photographs of the life portrait. Although none of these photographs were dated—odd since the NPG had bought the picture in 1888—the photos did reveal a history of waning and waxing obfuscation. The black-and-white photograph I purchased appeared to be the oldest in the file and it showed the portrait thickly overpainted especially along its lower section (this being the lone oak panel of the three horizontal planks on which the picture was painted). Everywhere I looked I saw tide lines and abrasions, bubbles and wounds, evidence of rubbings, scrapings, and in-paintings. Even the close-up details that illustrate Strong’s chapter in The Cult of Elizabeth reveal a parade of crude brushwork around the crests behind the tomb’s effigies. The more I studied these details, the more I began to wonder if the entire picture might have been methodically censored to hide the sitter’s identity. (continued after jump)