The Rotherwas Portrait
Portrait of a Noblewoman
Unknown artist
circa 1550s
Oil on panel
30 1/8 x 22 11/16 inches
Minneapolis Institute of Arts
     In January 2010, I was contacted by Hope Walker, at that time a graduate student in art history, concerning this painting. She had been asked by an employee of the Minneapolis Institute of Arts (MIA) to assist in an attempt to identify the artist who created the portrait. Ms Walker is the leading expert on the artist Hans Eworth, a potential candidate to be the artist of this painting. The MIA employee was simultaneously investigating the possibility that the sitter may be Lady Jane Grey, so Ms Walker contacted me.[1] Together we devoted over four months of intense research to the painting and its origins.The results of that research are now presented here.
  The Portrait  
     The portrait depicts a young woman standing before a plain blue-green background. She faces the viewer squarely, uncommon in portraits of women of the sixteenth century. Even more unsually, she gazes directly at the viewer. Her eyes are hazel, and her hair is reddish-blond. She wears her hair in the most common manner of the Tudor period, parted in the center and swept back to cover the ears. The nose is straight and has a slightly bulbous tip. Her mouth is narrow, with a very thin upper lip that has a pronounced ‘cupid’s bow’. She has narrow shoulders and a thin waist, but the artist has rendered her arms as both disproportionately long and markedly thin.

     On her head she wears a French hood of crimson satin with a flattened crown arch. The upper billiment of the hood appears to consist of decorative metallic cording laid over gold metalwork. The nether billiment contains numerous small stones set in goldwork. A goffered coif extends from the leading edge of the hood and is embellished with three stripes of gold metallic embroidery. The bottom of the two side margins of the hood extend behind the head, and a black fall can be seen behind the neck, encasing the hair.

     The lady is dressed in an over-gown of black silk. The gown is supplemented by a partlet of black velvet across the shoulders, with a standing open collar overlaid with a white linen lining that is itself heavily embroidered with blackwork in a floral pattern.[2] Oversleeves of black velvet are turned back over the forearms to expose padded undersleeves of brown or rust-colored satin. The undersleeves have minimal slashing at the cuff. Closure laces or ‘points’ are visible at either end of each slash, but there are no aiglettes attached to those points. The embroidered chemise protrudes from the slashing and embroidered ruffle-type cuffs extend below the wrists. The underskirt is brown or rust colored and has a large, bold floral motif.

     The lady holds in her hands a small open book, perhaps a prayerbook.[3] It is attached to a thin gold chain that is secured to the lady’s waist by means of a brown silk ribbon (upon close examination, the knotting-together of the waist ribbon and chain can be detected in the photo at top). The book itself is held within in a gold-colored metallic case with hinges between the covers and spine. Two small ribbons for securing the book closed when not in use can be seen over the lady’s proper left fingers. The book does appear to be handwritten rather than printed, though the text is no longer legible in the painted image.

     The jewels, other than those on the French hood, are rather modest and consist of a simple double-looped fine neck chain of gold and a large brooch affixed to the upper bodice. The brooch itself is comprised of two distinct elements. The upper element is a small piece of goldwork in a geometric pattern and is set at its center with a tiny square dark stone. The lower element (detail, below) appears to dangle freely from the upper and is constructed as a medallion of repoussé and enameled goldwork. It depicts a woman seated in a chair with carved uprights and an enclosed base. She is playing a lute. Small trees are visible on either side of the woman, and what may be a jar is barely discernible beneath the righthand tree (the jar is not readily visible in the detail photo). Above the woman’s head is a white enameled ‘saile’ (in sixteenth-century terminology) or ‘banderole’ (in modern terminology) on which is written ‘Praise the Lord for ever more’. On each side of the banderole and incorporated into the floral border of the medallion is the head of a classical satyr, or a ‘grotesque’, with each face rendered in white enamelwork.[4] The medallion does not contain any precious stones.
     Minnesota Institute of Arts records indicate that the painting was gifted to the MIA in 1987 by an anonymous donor, having been acquired by that donor from the London art dealers Thomas Agnew and Sons. Prior to that, the painting was owned briefly in the middle of the twentieth century by Major The Honorable Clive Pearson (d.1965).[5] The painting can be located in the 1950s in the collection of the attorney and art collector H.E.M. Benn (d.1960) of Haslemere (Sussex), and with the art restorer Ayerst Hooker Buttery and his son Horace Buttery between 1913 and about 1950. The Butterys had in turn acquired the portrait on 8 April 1913 through an auction of the collection of the Bodenhams of Rotherwas House (Herefordshire), through which family it is thought to have passed by descent since the sixteenth century.[6]
Former Attributions and Identifications
     Immediately after the portrait sold at auction in 1913, it was assessed as a previously unknown work by Hans Holbein the Younger, one of the most famous portrait artists of his day. The attribution to Holbein was supported by Max J. Friedländer and Arthur B. Chamberlain, both of whom were early experts on the artist.[7] So firm was the attribution to Holbein that it remained unchallenged for almost 70 years. Though the work does bear the same startlingly realistic rendering of the face as seen in genuine works by Holbein, it has since been dismissed as his work.[8] Holbein died in 1543, but the sitter’s costume dates to no earlier than about 1550. There are also certain technical differences that eliminate Holbein as the creator. The painting is thus now attributed to ‘Unknown artist’, though he clearly possessed a level of skill very rarely seen in England in the 1550s. John Bettes the Elder, Gerlack Flicke, Guillim Scrots, and Hans Eworth have each been proposed as the artist though none have yet been confirmed.[9]

     For most of the painting’s documented history and since at least the late eighteenth century, the sitter was identified as Margaret Tudor, Queen Consort to James IV of Scotland and elder sister of Henry VIII. Though that identification was supported by an inscription in an eighteenth-century hand painted across the left sleeve, since removed, Margaret died in 1541, before this painting was created.[10] The auction house of Puttick and Simpson re-identified the sitter in their auction catalogue as Margaret’s grandaughter, Mary, Queen of Scots, though their evidence to support the new identification is not recorded.[11] That identification was dismissed soon after the sale of 1913.

     By early 1915, it had been suggested that the sitter might be Cecilia (or Cecily) Bodenham, a well-known lady of the sixteenth-century Bodenhams of Rotherwas, the family and house from which the picture originated.[12] This identification is contradicted by the fact that Cecilia Bodenham died in 1545, before this painting was probably produced, and at almost sixty years of age, far too old to be the lady seen here. The lady’s true identity has never been ascertained.
     For a time, it was believed that the portrait dated to as early as the 1520s. That belief was based on a copy of a dendrochronology report dated 1974 and held in the MIA’s files on this portrait. The report and accompanying correspondence are from Dr JM Fletcher, a pioneer in the science of dendrochronology, and are addressed to a Mrs Eyre-Huddleston of Sopworth Manor (Wiltshire). Dr Fletcher’s materials directly concern a portrait owned at that time by Mrs Eyre-Huddleston and identified by him as ‘Mary I as princess’. His report states that the tree used to produce the boards of the portrait owned by Mrs Eyre-Huddleston was felled in about 1522. But in those same materials, Fletcher refers repeatedly to a separate portrait he identifies as ‘? Princess Mary Tudor, belonging to Mrs Tritton at Parham’, the same residence at which the Rotherwas portrait was held prior to 1965. Unfortunately, muddled provenances, a profusion of dates, and Dr Fletcher’s rather vague and confusing discussion of multiple portraits within a single dendrochronology report, coupled with the various and changeable identifications for this portrait (Margaret Tudor, Mary Stuart, etc), led to the belief that he was primarily describing the Rotherwas–MIA portrait. In fact, he was discussing a portrait that is, coincidentally, very well known to Ms Walker and I, one on which we both had independently consulted prior to its being offered at auction by Sotheby’s in 2010.[13] That portrait was indeed owned in 1974 by Mrs Eyre-Huddleston and has since passed to her heir, Canon Father Timothy Russ. The portrait of Princess Mary Tudor owned in 1974 by Mrs Tritton of Parham House is likewise not the same as the Rotherwas portrait since the latter was removed from Parham in 1965. In short, the Fletcher correspondence in the MIA file has no direct bearing on this painting, and no dendrochronology report for the Rotherwas portrait currently exists.

     The evidence provided by the sitter’s costume situates the painting in the mid 1550s. The standing spread collar is typical of that period, as are the flattened arch of the crown of the French hood and the heavily padded forearms of the sleeves.

     This portrait was itself undoubtedly a costly one for whomever commissioned it, so that the sitter would have worn her best attire. And although the fabrics used in constructing the lady’s gown are quite luxurious, there is a marked paucity of jewels present. She has only the billiments of her hood, of which just one appears to be set with precious stones, and the thin gold chains at her neck and attached to her prayerbook. She wears no rings and has no aiglettes or goldwork buttons on her gown. The brooch at her bodice is simple goldwork and enamel without precious stones. Even the book is secured to her waist by a ribbon rather than a girdle chain. Yet the sixteenth century was an era in which English families were generally keen to mark their wealth and social status through the ostentatious display in their commissioned portraiture of  large quantities of jewels.[14] The relative absence here of costly and numerous jewels suggests that the sitter may be of a lesser social status than the aristocracy or nobility.
     The book is, as MIA personnel have suggested, an important element in this portrait (detail, above). Such small books, usually prayerbooks or other devotional works, were relatively common in the early and mid sixteenth century among both Roman Catholics and Protestants. And the book seen here is indeed very similar in size to the prayerbook that Jane Grey is known to have possessed, inscribed, and carried with her to the scaffold in February 1554.[15] Yet other women of the era are known to have possessed similar small books, most notably Katherine Parr, so the presence of the book is not itself definitive evidence that the sitter is Jane Grey.[16]

     When this painting was originally produced, the handwriting on the visible pages of the book was almost certainly fully legible, though the cleaning and revarnishing carried out by Buttery in 1913 unfortunately removed most of the script. Nonetheless, Ms Walker and I embarked on an ambitious effort to render the script once again legible so as to be able to compare it to the text of Jane’s surviving prayerbook. If the text should turn out to be identical, a case might be made for identifying the lady as Jane Grey, whereas if the text failed to match any of the pages in Jane’s prayerbook, such an identification would be less supportable.

     With the generous cooperation and assistance of the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, super-high-resolution photographs of the prayerbook were taken under near-ultra-violet light (370–400 nanometers). One of the nineteen resulting images can be seen below. (The dark blue spot on the proper left thumbnail is an area of modern retouching of the paint.)
     The images obtained were sent to a colleague at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) in Pasadena, California for specialized processing. It was hoped that the pigment used to paint the text of the book might either be composed of a substance that would fluoresce under UV light or contain contaminates that would fluoresce. The JPL has developed sophisticated computer software for analyzing digital ultra-violet photographs taken by its various Mars rover missions, software that can elicit from those photographs evidence of fluroescence not readily discernible with the naked eye. If fluoresence could be detected in sufficient amounts, the painted text might be able to be reconstructed. Unfortunately, the most common substances used in the sixteenth century to produce black pigment were lamp black and bone black, both carbon-based and thus non-flourescent. No fluorescence was detected in any of the nineteen UV images taken of the book. It was concluded that the book was probably painted in two stages: the white pages were painted first and the paint was allowed to cure long enough to produce an impermeable surface. The text was then painted in on top of the cured white surface, which prevented the formation of a strong bond between the two layers. Thus when the  painting was cleaned in 1913, the weak bond between the two layers was broken and the black pigment was carried away with the cleaning solvents. The text cannot be reconstructed and remains totally illegible. The book is therefore not sufficient to identify the sitter.

     The only remaining material object depicted in the painting that might provide a clue to the sitter’s identity is the figured brooch worn on the chest. It has been suggested in the past that the figure represents Saint Cecilia, since she is the patron saint of church music and musicians and the lady depicted on the brooch is playing a lute.[17] Yet the iconography of Saint Cecilia ordinarily depicts her with an organ or a violin, not a lute. That instrument is more commonly associated with Mary Magdalene. Further, Magdalene imagery often portrays her in a garden or grove of trees, as seen here, in reference to her period of penitence in the wilderness. Depictions of Mary Magdalene are also often identifiable by the presence of a small jar or pot placed close to the figure, in reference to the jar of ointment with which Mary anointed Christ’s feet.[18] The authors believe just such a jar is discernible beneath the righthand tree on the brooch, though it is quite indistinct in the medium-resolution photo above. Mary Magdalene was an exceedingly popular saint in England in the sixteenth century, so that the brooch may have no correlation with the name of the sitter. But if in fact the sitter is using the brooch to convey her own identity through association with a particular saint, the sitter is more likely to be named Mary than Cecilia or Jane.[18]

     The brooch was checked carefully against a number of surviving jewel inventories, especially those of the royal jewels in the reigns of Henry VIII (1509–1547) and Edward VI (1547–1553), in hopes of finding a sufficiently close correlation to tie the brooch to a specific individual. A significant number of brooches containing the image of ‘a woman luting’ and a ‘saile’ or banderole with scriptural text were found, but none of the inventories offered enough descriptive detail to make a firm match possibble. A typical entry reads simply ‘A brooch with a gentlewoman luting, and a scripture about it’.[20] From this it can be surmised only that the design motif was a popular one reproduced in such quantity that it is unlikely that the brooch in this painting can be linked to a specific individual.

     The text on the banderole above the lutenist’s head may also have significance for identifying the sitter. The text is in English, indication that the sitter is herself English and that the portrait was not imported from the continent. It is tempting to interpret the usage of English, rather than Latin, as a marker of Protestant affiliation, but such an interpretation is contradicted by pre-Reformation inventories describing similar religiously-themed jewels with English texts. The phrase itself, ‘Praise the Lord for ever more’, is not sufficiently unique to be useful for identifying the sitter. It appears in several Old Testament writings and in hymns composed in the sixteenth century.[21] Although the jewel and its text no doubt had symbolic meaning for the lady depicted wearing it, that meaning is now lost and seemingly unrecoverable.
  Is the sitter Jane Grey?  
     In the narrow context of evaluating the suggestion that the sitter could potentially be Jane Grey, it is useful to examine the reported early provenance of the painting. At the time of the dispersal of the collection from Rotherwas in 1913, the Bodenham heirs claimed that the painting had ‘always’ been in the family’s possession. Family traditions are too often erroneous, but assuming the Bodenham tradition is accurate, it seems highly unlikely that they would have acquired a costly painting of Jane Grey, whether through gift or purchase.

     In the first instance, the Bodenhams of Rotherwas had no demonstrable connection to the Greys of Bradgate. The closest discoverable link is a friendship between the Abbess Cecilia Bodenham and Christian Willoughby, a female cousin of Katherine Willoughby Brandon, much-younger second wife of Jane Grey’s maternal grandfather Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk.[22] But since only Katherine Willoughby remained alive by the time Jane was even ten years old, that relationship is insufficient to explain any gift to the Bodenhams after 1550 by either Jane or her family, especially the gift of a portrait of such obvious cost.[23]

     In the second instance, the Bodenhams of the sixteenth century are exceedingly unlikely to have knowingly purchased a portrait of the Protestant challenger to the throne of the Roman Catholic Mary Tudor, since the Bodenhams were themselves staunch Catholics. Roger Bodenham (d.1579), lord of the manor of Rotherwas after 1538, was twice arrested and interrogated for unspecified offenses during the reign of the Protestant Edward VI. Both events occured within days of each promulgation of the Book of Common Prayer, the first in 1549 and the second in late 1552.[24] It is likely that his offenses were actually protests against the Book. So strong was Roger Bodenham’s Catholic faith that he entered voluntary exile, first as a merchant-explorer between 1550 and 1552, and then as a permanent resident in Spain following the accession of Elizabeth in 1558.[25] He remained in Spain until the summer of 1575, amassing a fortune as a representative for English goods and commerce. His son, also named Roger, remained in Spain even after his elderly father’s return to England. It is therefore difficult to imagine the Bodenhams purchasing at high cost and preserving a fine portrait of a woman who was their spiritual, if not political, enemy. Further, it seems almost impossible that such a purchase could have been made after 1558, when the family was in exile in Spain. Therefore, if the Bodenham family tradition asserting that the painting was always at Rotherwas is correct, it is highly improbable that the sitter depicted in the portrait is Jane Grey.
A member of the Bodenham family?
     It is equally unlikely that the sitter is one of the Bodenhams of Rotherwas of the sixteenth century. She is very unlikely to be Roger Bodenham Sr’s wife, Jane Whyttington (, since that lady was well over 30 years of age by the time this painting was created, after 1550. Bridget Baskerville, first wife of Roger Jr, can also be eliminated since they did not marry until 1582 (Roger Jr was a mature 37 years old at the time). Roger Sr and Jane Whyttington Bodenham did have two daughters who survived infancy: Elizabeth and Margaret. Online genealogical websites generally agree that Margaret was born after her brothers Thomas (b.1544) and Roger (b.1545), making her too young to be the lady in this painting, even if it dates to as late as 1560. Elizabeth, however, seems to have been born before her brothers, perhaps as early as 1538.[26] And while that would make her at most 12 years old in 1550, the earliest likely date for this picture, her age begins to match more nearly the apparent age of the sitter in this painting as the possible timeframe for its creation extends into the 1550s. If, for example, the painting dates to the mid 1550s, Elizabeth would have been about age 17, consistent with the apparent age of the lady seen here. But because the elder generation of Bodenhams lived largely in exile between 1550 and 1575, and the second generation remained in exile until the early 1580s, it seems altogether unlikely that in these turbulent circumstances the family would have commissioned a costly portrait of any of its memebrs. Significantly, the Bodenham sale of 1913 included only one portrait identifed as a member of the Bodenham family out of a total of 122 lots, and that portrait was a late-nineteenth-century copy of a lost seventeenth-century original.[27]

     More probably, the painting entered the Bodenham collection long after it was created and thus depicts some other, as yet unknown lady. Indeed, the history of Rotherwas House itself almost requires this to be the case. The first significant house on the manor was not built until the first years of the seventeenth century, replacing a much more modest structure dating back to the late fifteenth century. It was built specifically to celebrate and announce the family’s return to favor under the new king, James I, who paid the first of several visits to Rotherwas in 1611.[28] But the new house did not survive long, for it was seized by Parliamentary forces during the Civil Wars of the 1640s and fell completely into ruin, making it unlikely that any artworks contained within it survived that period. Only the chapel of the house remained intact. Another Rotherwas was therefore built in 1731 to replace the damaged house of 1611. This newest Rotherwas would have required furnishing entirely anew, from carpets to chandeliers. In all likelihood, the painting was purchased in or about 1731 to aid in decorating the new house. Because the former inscription removed from the sleeve in 1913 appeared to date to the eighteenth century, it seems probable that the painting was actually purchased as an ‘authentic’ portrait of Margaret Tudor, Queen Consort of Scotland.
     The lady depicted in this portrait is certainly neither Margaret Tudor Douglas nor her granddaughter Mary Stuart. Neither is she Cecilia Bodenham nor Lady Jane Grey. She is very unlikely to be any member of the Bodenham family, with the possible exception of Elizabeth, born circa 1538 and daughter of Roger Bodenham. But because of the depredations suffered by Rotherwas House itself, it seems highly probable that the Bodenham family tradition asserting that the painting had ‘always’ been in the Bodenham collection is, like so many such traditions, incorrect. It is far more likely that the painting entered the Bodenham collection in or after 1731 when the last Rotherwas House was built. The identity of the lady in the portrait must remain a mystery, at least for the time being. Should the Minneaplois Institute of Art elect to proceed with certain technological studies, however, it may eventually be possible to gather sufficient data to determine the identities of both the sitter and the artist.
    J. Stephan Edwards, Ph.D.
Hope Walker, M.A.
18 August 2012
  NOTES :      
The proposal by the MIA that the sitter might be Jane Grey is entirely new as of 2009. The portrait has never previously been proposed, exhibited, or published as a portrait of Jane.
My thanks to regular site visitor Andrew Schroeder for clarifying my understanding of partlets.
  It is this prayerbook that first inspired personnel at the MIA to suggest Jane Grey as the sitter. Jane is famously known to have possessed such a  book, a fact discussed at some length later in this article.  
Satyrs heads, sometimes called ‘grotesques’, were a relatively common decorative motif in the sixteenth century and referenced the admiration had by men of that day for ancient Greco-Roman literature. See, for example, the heavily embellished portait of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, which has very similar heads in each lower corner.
Clive Pearson, a former chairman of the British Overseas Airways Corporation (now British Airways), was the second son of Weetman Pearson, 1st Viscount Cowdray. The younger Pearson purchased Parham Park (Cootham, Sussex) in 1922, and the painting was held there until Pearson’s death, when it was sold to pay death duties.
The Butterys paid 340 guineas, or $1700, for the painting, and the sale was reported in newspapers across the globe. Rotherwas Hall had fallen on hard times following a fire in 1907 and the unrelated the premature death in March 1909 of Count Louis Pomian Bodenham-Lubienski. The house and attached lands were sold in 1912, with the proceeds used to support Lubienski’s three surviving young sons. Lubienski was not himself a Bodenham, but had instead taken the name in deference to the longstanding owners of the property. Lubienski acquired the house in 1892 through inheritance as a distant cousin of Irina Maria Kraj-Morawska (d.1892), the childless Polish widow of the last Bodenham to own Rotherwas, Charles de la Barre Bodenham (d. 1884). Ironically, Count Louis Bodenham-Lubienski took as his wife in 1895 Mary Evelyn Kirwan, granddaughter of George A.F. Rawdon-Hastings, 2nd Marquess of Hastings and Barbara Yelverton, suo jure 20th Baroness Grey of Ruthyn. Hastings was descended from Francis Hastings, 2nd Earl of Huntingdon and a supporter of Jane Grey, while Barbara Yelverton was descended from Henry Grey, 4th Earl of Kent and one of Jane’s distant cousins. When Count Louis owned the painting, however, it had not yet been associated in any way with Jane Grey.
Though the catalogue for the sale listed the painting as ‘Early English School’, it was re-attributed to Holbein within days of the sale. Puttick and Simpsons catalogue, 8 April 1913, Lot 17, page 5. See also ‘The Rotherwas Holbein’, The Times of London, 28 June 1913; ‘A Picture’s Romantic History’, The Morning Post (London), 28 June 1913; ‘New Holbein Is Found’, New York Times, 28 June 1913; Arthur Chamberlain, Hans Holbein the Younger, 2 vols (New York: Dodd, Mead and Co., 1913), I:353–358. Chamberlain’s study was for a long time considered the definitive work on Holbein. Dr Max Friedländer was an art historian who specialized in Netherlandish painters, of which Holbein was one.
  See John Rowlands, Holbein: The Paintings of Hans Holbein the Younger ( Boston: David R. Godine, 1985), 237 and 269, plate 248.  
  Ms Walker has eliminated Eworth as the artist on stylistic grounds.  
Chamberlain, 353. The inscription was deliberately removed when the painting was cleaned and revarnished by Ayerst Buttery in 1913.
Puttick and Simpsons catalogue, 8 April 1913, Lot 17, page 5.
M.H. Dodd, ‘Cecilia Bodenham: A Portrait by Holbein’, Notes and Queries 2nd series XI (March 20, 1915), 231. Cecilia Bodenham was born in the late 1480s or early 1490s. She was the daughter of Roger Bodenham, first lord of the manor of Rotherwas. She took holy orders and eventually became abbess of Wilton Abbey (Wiltshire), one of the largest and wealthiest convents in England, until that institution was dissolved in 1539. She died in 1545.
  See Hope Walker, On the Portrait of an Unknown Lady in the Collection of Canon Timothy Russ, 12 April 2010. My own consultation for Canon Russ from March 2009 is unpublished. The portrait was offered twice by Sotheby’s but failed to sell on both occasions.  
See Ann Rosalind Jones and Peter Stallybrass, Renaissance Clothing and the Materials of Memory (Cambridge, 2000).
British Library, Harley Manuscript 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 Janel Mueller, Katherine Parr: Complete Works and Correspondence (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011). An example of a similar book depicted in portraiture can be seen in the Fitzwilliam Portrait.
See note 11 above.
H. Colin Slim, ‘Mary Magdalene, musician and dancer’, Early Music 8:4 (October 1980), 460–473. See The Althorp Portrait for several examples of Mary Magdalene and her jar or pot.
On the persisting popularity of Saint Mary Magdalene even into the iconoclastic Edwardian period of the early 1550s, see, for example, Patricia Badir, ‘“To allue vnto their loue”: Iconoclasm and striptease in Lewis Wager’s The Life and Repentaunce of Marie Magdalene’, Theater Journal 51:1 (March 1999), 1–20. Mary Magdalene was one of only two saints retained under the First Book of Common Prayer of 1549; the other was the Virgin Mary.
Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, of Henry VIII, 1524–1530, Volume 4, edited by J.S. Brewer (London: Longmans and HMSO, 1875), 3070. It must be noted that the early jewelry historian Joan Evans assumed that the jewel in this painting was indeed the same as that listed in the royal inventory, despite the vagueness of the written inventory description. See Joan Evans, English Jewelry from the fifth century A.D. to 1800 (London: Methuen and Co, 1921), 73. The jewel inventories of Mary I survive in several forms, including Frederick Madden, Privy Purse Expenses of the Princess Mary, Daughter of King Henry the Eighth, Afterwards Queen Mary With a Memoir of the Princess, and Notes (London: W. Pickering, 1831), 175– 201; National Archives E101/427/11; and British Library Harley Manuscript 611, ‘Account of the King’s and Queen’s Jewels’. The latter is annotated and countersigned on every page in Mary’s own hand.
See Psalms 113 and 148. Both of these which were set to music for use in Protestant worship services, the first in 1542 at Strabourg and the second in 1562 at Geneva. See also Edward Hamilton, The Sanctus: A Collection of Sacred Music, Full and Complete in Every Department; Adapted to the Worship of All Protestant Denominations (Boston: Phillips, Sampson & Company, 1857), 15.
Will of Cecily Bodenham, National Archives, Prob. 11/37, f.18.
Portraits by the finest artists could command commissions well in excess of £10, a very substantial sum in sixteenth-century England..
Acts of the Privy Council, Volume 4: 1552-1554, edited by John Roche Dasent (London: HMSO, 1892), 219 and 261.
Roger Bodenham Sr is credited with being the first man to captain an English ship to the Levant, in 1551. See J. Theodore Bent, ‘The English in the Levant’, The English Historical Review 5:20 (Oct. 1890), 654–664. See also Calendar of State Papers Foreign, Elizabeth, 1558-1589, Volumes 7, 10 and 11 contain numerous letters from both Roger Sr and Roger Jr, endorsed at Seville and addressed to William Cecil and the Privy Council, on a variety of issues. Though living in religious exile, they were sufficiently loyal English subjects to report regularly on Spanish naval and military preparations.
Though Elizabeth Bodenham’s date of birth is not reflected in the various antiquarian genealogical texts compiled in the nineteenth century, such as Burke’s Landed Gentry, a survey of numerous online genealogical databases reveals a general agreement that she was born circa 1538. This data requires appropriate confirmation, however.
John Bodenham, copy of a contemporary picture, by A.M., oval cartouche, 36 x 29 inches, 1879, Putick and Simpson, 8 April 1913, Lot 18, page 6. There were John Bodenhams of Rotherwas in each of three successive generations beginning in 1650. Which of these is depicted in the portrait-copy cannot now be determined. The first John Bodenham was born circa 1650 and died in 1707. John of the second-generation was a Jesuit priest, while his nephew in the third generation died childless in the second half of the eighteenth century. None of these should be confused with the unrelated John Bodenham, author of Belvedere, or the Garden of the Muses published in 1597.
Roger Bodenham (Jr) was made a Knight of the Bath at the coronation of James I in 1603, despite his Roman Catholic faith ... perhaps as a gesture of reconciliation to his new Catholic subjects who had been persecuted under Elizabeth I and the Cecils.
    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 Fitzwilliam Museum 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 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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Page created 18 August 2012, Revised 19 September 2013

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