A polychrome oak panel relief of Cardinal Thomas Wolsey’s coat of arms has been identified as the only surviving wood-carved sculpture of his arms made in the cardinal’s lifetime. It is one of only two sculptures of Wolsey’s coat of arms known to survive. The other is a terracotta relief fixed to the wall of the center yard at Hampton Court Palace.
It is composed of two panels from the same Baltic oak tree mounted in an oak frame. Dendrochronological analysis found the three was felled in around1520. At that time, Wolsey was at the peak of his power and his rapid downfall still a decade away. Born in a family of merchants, Thomas Wolsey was royal chaplain to King Henry VII in 1507, and by 1515 was a Cardinal and Lord Chancellor to King Henry VIII.
His arms were granted to him in 1525. As a cardinal, he was entitled to use the red galero cardinalizio, the broad-brimmed hat with red cords and 15 tassels on each side that was the symbol of his clerical office, on his coat of arms. This version only had 10 tassels per side, perhaps in reference to his archbishoprics, just as the cross topping the escutcheon is an archiepiscopal cross. The heraldry on the shield is a silver cross with a red lion center and four blue leopards’ faces. The top field of the shield features a red Tudor rose flanked by two Cornish choughs, black birds also known as “beckets,” that symbolize Wolsey’s namesake St. Thomas Becket.
The panel is expertly carved in relief. It is evidently not the work of a provincial artisan, rather the creation of a skilled sculptor, and something intended to be displayed in opulent surroundings. Although it might have, at some point, been set into a wainscot, the panel functions as a singular artwork. This would have raised its status as an artwork in its own right (as opposed to an element in a decorative architectural scheme) and as a moveable object, undoubtedly ensured its survival. Its high status is again demonstrated by the care the sculptor has taken in including the two attending griffins, whose claws hold up the capello romano and touch the escutcheon. These details set the panel apart from other, more perfunctory carvings which no doubt existed in the Cardinal’s day.
Contemporary accounts and inventories record dozens of objects — tapestries, quilts, chairs, andirons — decorated with Wolsey’s arms, all of which disappeared after his precipitous fall from grace in 1529 and death from dysentery less a year later. Henry VIII made a point of covering Wolsey’s arms at Hampton Court Palace. The only other known sculpture of his coat of arms survived incognito under a masonry relief of the royal arms with an iron crown covering the galero of the original terracotta relief. Henry covered it when he took possession of the palace in 1531, and the original was only rediscovered when Henry’s heraldic device was removed for conservation in 1845.
The traceable ownership history of the object goes back to the 18th century. On the back is a handwritten note that reads: “Arms of Cardinal Wolsey of Christ Church Oxford, 29th November 1530.” It is signed P.B. D. Cooke, marking it as having belonged to Philip Bryan Davies Cooke (1793 – 1853) of Gwynsaney Hall, North Wales, and Owston Hall in Yorkshire. The panel was sold earlier this year in an auction of Gwynsaney Hall art and interiors. It was billed as a “Victorian carved, painted and gilt rectangular wood panel.” The pre-sale estimate was £300-500 ($400-665), but clearly someone suspected this more than a 19th century replica because the hammer price was £13,000 ($17,300).
Art dealer Simon Dickinson acquired the panel from the private collector who bought it at the Gwynsaney Hall auction. His team researched the history of the piece and performed the scientific studies that discovered its real age. They also have a theory about whose hands kept it safe was in when all the other Wolsey coats of arms were destroyed.
Wolsey’s most famous and consequential disciple, and the man who would ultimately replace him as Henry’s chief minister, was Thomas Cromwell. Cromwell was a merchant, lawyer and parliamentarian. In 1524 he entered Wolsey’s household, initially as his lawyer. By 1527 he was one of Wolsey’s personal councillors. We can see in an inventory of Thomas Cromwell’s household effects, dated 26th June 1527, that Cromwell prominently displayed his connection to his cardinal patron, then at the apex of his power and influence. In his parlour, probably at Austin Friars (the house is not specified), Cromwell had a ‘table of my lorde cardynalls Armes paynted and gylted’, and in his hall ‘my lorde cardynalls armes gylted in canaus’.[5] These two items were, in modern English, a wooden panel (table) depicting the Cardinal’s arms, painted and gilded, and a canvas painted with Wolsey’s arms. It is impossible to know from this perfunctory description whether this ‘table’ is the same as our panel. What it does demonstrate, however, is that Cromwell owned two coats of arms, one sounding identical to ours, that were displayed publicly in his home.
The exhibition zooms in on the lives of a variety of people, such as the Boudaen Courten family from Zeeland province. Many items belonging to members of this family have survived, including gilded furniture, portraits and one very remarkable relic: a bladder stone retrieved in a major medical procedure. All these objects will be on view together for the first time in centuries. We also take a peek into the world of the Utrecht artist Joachim Wtewael. In 1628 he painted a portrait of his daughter Eva, seated at a table that still exists. The painting presents Eva as the epitome of the ideal housewife, with a sewing cushion on her lap and a prayer book on the table. This vision of her future unfortunately never became reality. She died seven years after the completion of the painting and never married. The painting will be on show together with the table and the matching linen cupboard.
The exhibition takes a multifaceted look at how people lived in the 17th century. Together with Archeologie West-Friesland, the curators have studied the contents of the 17th-century cesspit at the home of the mayor of Hoorn and his family, the Soncks. The cookware, the crockery and the food waste tell us the story of what was on the family dining table, offering detailed insights into their eating habits. Cesspits found on Vlooienburg island in Amsterdam, by contrast, reveal that Portuguese immigrants to the city brought with them their own earthenware, and their own flavours.
The Doll’s House of Petronella Oortman is the centerpiece of the exhibition. Created in the late 17th century into the early 18th (ca. 1686 – ca. 1710), the doll’s house was not a toy or playhouse. It had tiny dolls in it, most of them now lost, alas, but they were not for kids to play pretend with. It was a meticulously rendered miniature version of a wealthy home of the period. Every possible detail was included, from sewing scissors to wallpaper to books of real music.
To celebrate this masterpiece of miniaturization, the museum has created a masterpiece of digital experience: an online tour of the house guided by the voice of Helena Bonham Carter. The online exhibition brings you inside every room of the doll’s house. It’s like Fantastic Voyage only you’ve been shrunk to fit into an elegant 17th century Dutch interior instead of the body of an injured scientist. The art on the walls, the wood paneling, the cane chairs, the cushions, the door knobs, the 1cm teacups, the porcelain spittoons on the floor next to the game table with a backgammon round in progress, the books, a curio cabinet full of tiny shells, the fruit on the kitchen counter, the fully-stocked cellar hidden in a drawer, baskets of peat briquets to burn for cooking and heating, a working threaded spinning wheel, monogrammed linen napkins, everything is jaw-droppingly realistic rendering in detail. You can’t even tell it’s miniaturized when you’re inside the house.
