Oud Holland

Review of: 'Materiële representatie opgetekend aan het Haagse hof 1345-1425' (2020)

May 2022

Review of: Anne-Maria van Egmond, Materiële representatie opgetekend aan het Haagse hof 1345-1425, Hilversum [Verloren] 2020

Archaeological research conducted in 2005, at the site of the counts' hunting lodges in The Hague discovered, among other things: waste pits with bones of kestrels, peregrine falcons and hunting dogs. Unearthed duck bones even showed traces of bite marks from hunting dogs, while a fragment of a bronze bell – which must have belonged to the equipment of a falcon – was also found.1 As a material source, archaeological finds such as these, together with traces of soil and building construction found dating from the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, provide bits of information about life at the court in The Hague. Future research above and below ground in and around the Binnenhof and Buitenhof in the years to come will certainly reveal more about this very important period of the late Middle Ages for The Hague, which, after all, led to the city's status as the seat of government and of the highest judiciary – and administrative power centre of the Netherlands. This, together with the few secular and ecclesiastical buildings, and the scarce late-medieval objects that today remain, will never provide more than an incomplete picture.

However, that same picture becomes more complete and possibly more alive when written sources are used, as Van Egmond has done in the book under review. These too, are fragmentary in nature, though also very informative, the first such detailed accounts were published as early as 1875-1878.2 Since then, attention has regularly been paid to various aspects of the court, more recently by authors such as F. P. (Frits) van Oostrom, D. E. H. (Dick) de Boer, and E. H. P. (Erik) Cordfunke – among others.3 Anne-Maria van Egmond, who has completed her doctoral research at the University of Amsterdam, on the 'Material representation recorded at the court in The Hague 1345-1425', follows in their footsteps with the trade edition, published by the historical publisher, Verloren. As an art historian, Van Egmond investigates on the basis of the court records whether and to what extent the counts of the Bavarian house owned art and luxury utensils, and how they used these for their own representation. This became, as she herself calls it, a multidisciplinary study with the counts' financial accounting books taken as the foundation.

The fact that the financial court records form a rich source – also for object-oriented research – is demonstrated time and again by Anne-Maria van Egmond's thorough research. She formulated how to deal responsibly with this type of financial administration and how she could do this to the best of her ability: namely by analysing the accounting books on classification and accounting method, distilling the object-oriented information from them and, finally, by studying this information meticulously on terminology and descriptions.This provided a picture as to how the counts of the Holland-Hainaut house presented themselves in and around The Hague court. It was certainly a court; a representatively furnished residence with a court household and further entourage: gifts were handed out and received, commissions were given to craftsmen and artists; material presentation brought the count into the limelight as a worthy and capable monarch – but very moderately.

Cover of Materiële representatie opgetekend aan het Haagse hof 1345-1425.

Middle eft: fig. 1 Rogier van der Weyden, Portrait of Charles the Bold, oil on panel, c. 1454, 49 x 32 cm., Gemäldegalerie, Berlin, inv. 545.

Middle right: fig. 2 After Rogier van der Weyden, Portrait of Phillip the Good, 1400s, oil on panel, 27 x 24 cm., Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp, Antwerp, inv. 538.

Right: fig. 3 Hours of Margaret of Cleves, c. 1395–1400, parchment, 283 fls., Gulbenkian Museum, Lisbon, inv. LA148.

Because no important buildings were added to The Hague Binnenhof during the period that she studied, architectural history is almost completely left out of consideration. Archaeologically, hardly anything relevant from the period 1345-1425 has been uncovered structures, and little has been preserved above ground. The only remaining visual materials are some coins and seals, two devotional portraits in prayer books, a drawing of a court company and some decorated initials – especially in the accounting books. Van Egmond had to thus form the image of the noble representation, most often based on noted data concerning art and material culture, in the nearly complete, preserved financial administration of the period. Within them, hunting dogs, and birds as falcons, sparrow and hawks, also play a certain role. Either as gifts or figures depicted in decorated capital letters within the accounting books. What is not addressed, or only very implicitly, is the intended audience: who was the representation aimed at? What do we know about the circulation and area of distribution of these coins; for whom were the sealed pieces intended; who visited the Binnenhof and Buitenhof; and who received or gave gifts? On what occasions were painted and embroidered heraldic representations used, and for what purposes? The financial records and inventories, as a limited and one-sided source, provide little or no information on any of this. Nevertheless, something could have been said about this in a general sense or from a more specific context.

For the definition of 'material representation', Van Egmond follows that given by Cyriel Stroo in his De celebratie van de macht: presentatieminiaturen en verwante voorstellingen in handschriften van Filips de Goede (1419-1467) en Karel de Stoute (1467-1477): "a sign system that is used to visualise certain ideas and actions related to power and authority, hierarchy and authority, government and legitimacy."5 Stroo also includes in his definition, the court ceremonial, which Van Egmond had to leave out, due to lack of information. On the basis of the often very concise data in the accounting books, and by combining them with other written sources, she pays attention to the state of affairs of financial administration and to the, material culture. Inevitably, organisation in this way runs throughout the book; a general picture of the material representation at the court is impossible to be built without the objects, and vice versa neither without written information. This review is divided into three sections, which correlate to the book’s own divisions.

Part One
The first part of the book is about the completely vanished furnishings of the court chapel. It also deals with the visual analysis of the known seals, coins and the scarcely drawn and painted representations under the heading: 'Representation: Representation of power'. Based on precious metal objects, the count displayed his position of power. But heraldry and the representation of persons were also important for portraits and portrait authenticity: does an image have to resemble the monarch to represent them, and what is the purpose of representing the monarch?  A broader framing of these questions in the book by Van Egmond is given in Adolf Reinle's Das stellvertretende Bildnis (1984), which deals with these issues; unfortunately, Reinle’s landmark book has not been used by Van Egmond. For her, the accent seems to be more on the exercise of power than on the legitimisation of that same power. However, the seals and coins used certainly also emphasise the responsibility imposed by God upon the sovereign. The presence of the statues of the counts in the chapel, and of the devotional portraits in the prayer books, must be understood within this same sense.

More than only a terminological issue is Van Egmond's use of the phrase 'portrait'. On coins and seals that are discussed, the counts are certainly not 'portrayed', and they are not 'portraits' nor are they 'depicted' persons, as described throughout the book.6 The monarch is represented, presented in the guise of a harnessed horseman, or standing man, whether crowned or not, and provided with attributes that identify him, such as swords and heraldry. Even the statues of counts in the chapel are concerned with representation, not any likeness to life. This is abundantly clear from the course of events described by Van Egmond from 1470, concerning the statue of Charles the Bold’s (1433-1477) father, Philip the Good (1396-1467), which was rejected by him because of its attributes. For the series of counts and dukes, a new statue of Philip was made, which was to be made recognisable by his coat of arms. The first, rejected statue was modified to pass for Count William VI (1365-1417), between statues of the other counts of Holland. Van Egmond suspected, incidentally, in connection with the statues’ series, "that real resemblance did not matter, and that sufficient other means were available to arrive at an identification."7

In the middle of the fifteenth century, the dynastic gallery in the chapel numbered no less than 25 princes, who had come to power from c. 1373 onward. In the second half of the fourteenth century, the recognisable, realistic portrait also developed north of the Alps.8 It is therefore quite possible that the portraits of Count Albrecht of Bavaria (1336-1404), from c. 1400-1404, and of his second wife Margaret of Cleves, (c. 1375-14011), from c. 1395-1400, as devotional portraits, did have a considerable 'reality value', despite their idealised image regarding age.9 The independently painted portrait first occurred at the Holland-Hainaut court from the second quarter of the fifteenth century onward, according to documented accounts.10 Thus, this form of representation was used rather late, here, especially compared to the earliest known examples: the portrait of King Jean II the Good of France (1319-1364) from c. 1350, or Rudolph IV of Austria (1339-1365), from c. 1360.11

One of the counts of Holland is represented on the miniature attributed to Jan van Eyck (1390-1441) with 'the prince in prayer on the beach' in the burned part of the Turin-Milan Book of Hours. He is identified by Van Egmond as Jan van Beieren (1374-1418) – according to the art historian Hugo van der Velden (in an unpublished lecture), and others.12 Dominique Vanwijnsberghe by contrast, strongly questions this in the authoritative book on Jan van Eyck, which was also published in 2020. He opts for William VI of Holland ((1365-1417), alias William IV of Hainaut), with his widow Margaret of Burgundy (1374-1441), as the patron and thus a later dating for the Eyckian miniatures in the prayer book.13 Van Egmond’s assumption that this Book of hours was viewed by many book illustrators, given the many imitations of the miniatures, must not be as self-evident as it seems.14 From its completion, the very expensive royally owned prayer book was hardly accessible, except to the owner and the miniaturists who worked on the voluminous manuscript. Innovative miniatures would have been directly copied, also in the studio, and further distributed via model sheets and other manuscripts.15 Also, the assumption that the miniature in question was intended for a wider audience ignores the essence of prayer book illuminations, which were primarily intended for the individual user. In the case of 'the monarch in prayer on the beach', the intrinsic meaning is particularly crucial; a burden that is inherent, and certainly does not require an audience.

The pennant held up by one of the horsemen behind the count of Holland is decisive not only for the identification of the monarch represented in the miniature. The way the pennant is depicted underscores its devotional content. Since the early-twentieth-century, it has been noted that the four lions and the diagonal Bavarian lozenges are heraldically mirror-misrepresented. The solution of Durrieu (1903) and Sterling (1976), that coats of arms were painted on transparent fabric and thus that we actually see the reverse without further meaning, is also followed by Van Egmond in her analysis of the scene.16 In a footnote, she relativises the significance of the viewing direction by pointing to the equestrian seals of the counts Albrecht and Willem VI. There, on the shamrocks, the four lions are also heraldically 'wrongly' directed, facing to the left, time and again.17 That this was thus, 'apparently of lesser importance' is incorrect; on the contrary, the reversal of the armorial animals happened very deliberately and is instead, a matter of honour.18 On the prayer book page, the lions on the stand look towards the count, and more importantly towards God the Father appearing in the sky. On the saddle bags, the lions are facing forward and not backwards in relation to the forward galloping rider. On the historiated letter A, with the representation of the marriage of John IV of Brabant (1403-1427) and Jacoba of Bavaria (1401-1436), the same situation plays out. The shield of the Duke of Brabant is mirrored so that the lions do not stand with their backs to the bishop and are turned towards Jacoba.19

How much, for the sake of honour, the correct heraldic direction of view had to be overruled on a regular basis, is evident from the successive series of coats of arms of the Golden Fleece (1431-1559), painted on panels for the churches where the Order of the Golden Fleece gathered. The helmets and the pendant of the golden ram (the Golden Fleece) were painted on the panels in such a way that all of them, both on the coats of arms on the south side and on the north side of the church choir, were facing east, i.e. towards the high altar. Though the shields, which represented the Knights of the Fleece themselves, were correctly rendered.20 This was the case with the originals from 1456, installed in the Grote Kerk in The Hague, and the replacement series from 1545-1546.21 Even clearer, as an example, is the dedication miniature in Jean Wauquelin’s Roman de Girart de Roussillon, from 1448.22 In the centre is Philip the Good, surrounded by officials and his son Charles the Bold. All the lions on the shields surrounding the dedication miniature and the text block look to the monarch, as those in the left margin, all mirrored in deference to the monarch. These examples prove how meaningful the heraldic representations were at the time and, when in mirror image not ‘wrong’ but on purpose. This is as said essential for the interpretation of the miniature with the count of Holland on a beach by Jan van Eyck.

Part Two
Demonstrating that the financial records are a useful source for the object-oriented research part II, 'Inventory: Object in Context', discusses the court’s accounting books in detail, Van Egmond here examines which (art) objects are documented in them and why, and what can be gleaned from those notations, about their whereabouts and use. Her approach of trying to determine the lifespan of objects is surprising, and it turns out to hardly be possible. After all, acquiring a new object by no means always entails replacing the old one, and the reasons for replacement or a similar new commission vary widely. Moreover, historical terminology plays tricks on the modern researcher because what is meant by the various designations and how consistently the names were used largely escapes us. One of the objects that Van Egmond brings forward from the inventory of 1490, ‘is a silver gilt ciborium for the holy sacrament… with in it a crystal glass surrounded by several small, gilded silver statuettes.’23 Such a eucharistic monstrance was only used for certain, special ceremonies and this monstrance is not identical with but completely separate from the, 'nyewe ciborium’, which the silversmith Heinric van Groesbeek made in 1431/1432. This refers to what nowadays is still understood as a ciborium, as can be evidenced by the addition to the production order: “in which the holy sacrament will be carried daily.”24 A monstrance, however, served to display the consecrated host for veneration, inside of the chapel and outside in processions whereas a ciborium was intended to hold the remaining consecrated wafers after the celebration of the Eucharist. A ciborium, usually gilded on the inside, was therefore expensive; however what mattered the most, was to keep its sacred content, and not to show it around.25

Therefore, the ciborium was not housed in the sacristy but in the chapel, kept in the tabernacle of the sacrament; a vault worthy of the purpose. It must be assumed there was only one such tabernacle in the chapel, probably against the north wall of the east-facing chapel, in the form of a sacrament house. Another gilded tabernacle, with the four panels 'of Our Lady' mentioned in the chapel and referred to by Van Egmond, undoubtedly meant something completely different; perhaps an altar table, but more likely a frame or wall cabinet provided with a canopy decorated with gold leaf. After all, the term 'tabernacle' was also used for this in the accounts. This is evident, for example, from the 'five tabernacles'; each containing a statue of a count mentioned in 1454-1455, in an arbour of a summer house, and three tabernacles that were purchased later in the fourteenth and early fifteenth centuries, for the chapel at the Binnenhof.26

As van Egmond points out, gifts played a major role, both received and given. They were often objects of precious metal or jewellery, with or without decoration and precious stones. Luxurious fabrics, such as silks and especially textiles wherein gold and silver thread was used ('golden cloth'), also fell under representative gift exchanges. For the context of precisely these valuables in late-medieval and early-Renaissance court culture, studies, such as those by Rembrandt Duits and by Ronald Lightbown, would have been very informative, but Van Egmond makes no reference to them.27 Even with more personal gifts, the material value was a factor of importance. This aspect has perhaps been magnified here because, in this study, the financial sources formed the starting point, and therefore objects such as paintings, which have little or no intrinsic value, were, for the most part, left out. More attention should have been paid to the only surviving painting that may be connected to the Holland-Hainaut court and ended up in an American collection: a diptych depicting the Annunciation and on the reverse, a shield with four climbing lions on a golden field, unmistakably the coat of arms of Hainaut.28 Van Egmond rightly questioned the interpretation that this coat of arms refers to Margaret of Bavaria Straubing (1363-1424), and that the diptych would have been donated by Duke Philip the Bold (1342-1404) on the occasion of her marriage to John I of Burgundy (1371-1419), in 1385. After all, it is highly unlikely Margaret would have been exclusively referred to by Hainaut’s coat of arms, and that the minuscule and inconspicuous stamped ornaments of the fleur-de-lis in the decorated border around it referred to her father-in-law Philip the Bold, as the donor.

The entries in the accounting books make it clear that, in terms of representation, a large range of objects were involved, whereby those with images, heraldic representations and portraits can of course be positioned clearly. The great importance of stained-glass windows, donated to churches throughout Holland and beyond, is underestimated by Van Egmond and only mentioned in a few sentences.29 By placing stained-glass with coats of arms and other representations, including founder portraits, scattered throughout the count's area of power, the monarch confirmed his position, clearly visible to all. Mario Damen elaborated on this exemplarily in the case of Dukes of Burgundy in a l article that mentions Holland and its counts indirectly.30 Seals, gold and silver coins, illuminations and other painted objects were of limited access; the stained-glass windows donated by the Count could be seen by all, in The Hague and in at least six other towns in Holland as far away as Barbafosse in Hainaut. St. Anthony's Chapel there, was not only a place of pilgrimage that attracted people from all walks of life, but also the seat of St. Anthony's Brotherhood – the house order of the Counts of Holland-Hainaut.

Margaret of Burgundy, like her husband Count William VI of Holland, donated stained-glass to that chapel and in 1418 a panel with her portrait and coat of arms painted by Pierre Henne/Piettre le poindeur from Mons.31 John IV of Brabant, husband of Jacoba of Bavaria, also donated his portrait, recognisable by heraldry, to the chapel in 1423, for which he paid the widow of the same painter.32 This is both political representation par excellence and an appeal to Antony as a patron saint. Margaret had become a widow in 1417 and the count's power had passed to her daughter Jacoba, who had married John IV of Brabant in 1418. Although the justification for these painted portraits and stained-glass windows is not in the accounts of Holland, as documented examples of representation and as a political statement, they add to the picture sketched by Van Egmond. Part II of the book concludes with the paragraphs 'Harnasch ende Sc(h)ilderye' and 'Material according to circumstances'. The well-known etymological explanation for the term 'Scilderye' is quite clearly demonstrable based on the grave accounts: from the painting of real shields in the sense of defensive, war or tournament objects, to the depiction of heraldry and to 'painting', in the modern sense.33 This also explains the, at first, curious combination of 'armour and painting'. It is not surprising that due to the resurgence of the Holland-Frisian wars and other disturbances from 1396 onwards, the number of heraldic images, 'scilderyen', increased, and these will also have included painted defensive shields.

Part Three
The third and last part of the book focuses on organisation at the court in The Hague, at least as far as material representation there was concerned. The direct involvement of the Count and Countess was at best very limited. Production and acquisition of (art) objects was partly in the hands of their staff, and partly with the merchants and craftsmen elsewhere. Van Egmond gives ample attention to the use of textiles, both in the interior and for the uniforms and clothing of the personnel and court. Also the clerks and their accounting books – the source of Van Egmond's research – are discussed, including the representativeness or otherwise of the neat copies of the administration, with its decorated capital letters included. Furthermore, the position of the goldsmiths, a master builder; even sculptors are discussed, as well as that of the painters working for the court. Of course, Jan van Eyck is again given special attention here, in a follow-up of an article published by Van Egmond in 2014.34

It becomes clear from the account entries that 'Jan den maelre' was employed as an accomplished painter in The Hague by Jan of Bavaria (1374-1425) in 1422. There is no indication of where he came from or where he was trained. When the count of Holland died in the spring of 1425, his employment lapsed, and Jan van Eyck left for Bruges and soon after entered the service of Philip the Good in Lille. On November 20, 1425, on the authority of the Duke of Burgundy, a sum of money was booked out for the last time in the count's accounts for 'Johannes den Maelre': 20 crowns, equivalent to 24 pounds. By a later hand, 'deyke' was written next to John's name and 'faut quitance' in the margin. Van Egmond concludes, on the basis of this entry, and the added note, that Jan van Eyck was in The Hague that day for a final visit and probably did not get paid.35 Jacques Paviot, on the other hand, in his text on Van Eyck, published during 2020, does not question that the payment was made, but wonders whether the painter was in Holland at the time. Perhaps Van Eyck had to be paid 20 crowns for a very different reason, such as a trip.36 Another important difference of opinion between Van Egmond and Paviot concerns the payments from the count of Holland to Jan van Eyck, which are recorded as 'pantgelt' (six of the total nine payments). Paviot sees this literally as being a salary, while Van Egmond explicitly states that it should not be considered a salary but instead as extraordinary payments, and that Jan van Eyck possibly had also received a daily or annual wage, and livrei (an annual or biannual gift of representative official clothing, cloth and fur, or dressing money).37

Finally, the pen-and-ink drawing 'fishing party', or rather ‘Holland-Hainaut Court Company' – which Claudine Chavannes attributed to Jan van Eyck in 2012, first firmly, then more cautiously – is depicted in Paviot's article as 'Anonymous (Northern Netherlands), c. 1420, without mentioning it in the text.38 By Van Egmond, the drawing is also placed in the early fifteenth century and is emphatically kept anonymous, yet at the same time called "Eyckian".39 For Van Egmond, the company in it is important because it shows many epigones adorned with the insignia of the order of Antonius of Barbefosse and that of the Garden of Holland. Both these insignia, and the associated network, have received ample attention. Much remains unclear about the actual status, exclusivity, and distribution of these insignia, and Van Egmond does not elaborate on it either. The shape of the Antonius insignia is known thanks to this drawing and to later paintings. What the chain of the garden looked like can only be seen roughly on the drawing of the Court Company. One of the men and three of the women seem to wear it over their tabards. The chain must have looked like the braided fencing of the 'enclosed garden' shown on the coins and seals of William VI and of Jacoba of Bavaria.40 It seems, although this is not observed by Van Egmond, that each link was in the shape of a circular closed garden fence and that two men and one woman, respectively, also wore it as a loose pin, on their headgear and a shoulder cloak. An alternative possibility is that the chain represented the enclosed garden with the braided elements as loose links. In that case, the chain of the Holland-Hainaut Order of the Garden would have closely resembled the livery collar of the English Earl Ralph Neville (c. 1364-1425), and family. Ronald Lightbown describes this chain, which was worn over the shoulders like a closed fence as, “the most singular of all mediaeval collars, shaped as a fence of park-palings.”41

The observations and additions made here next to concisely describing the content of Anne-Maria van Egmond’s book make clear that although most of it has disappeared, still an impression can be given of the court of the Counts of Holland in The Hague. Van Egmond shows how close reading of written sources allows a surprisingly rich insight into a material culture of which only very few objects have survived. The picture that pops up of this power centre allied to the Bavarian and Burgundian ducal houses reveals that the status practiced in The Hague was by no means exuberant; perhaps best characterised as being very Hollandish.

Jos Koldeweij
Radboud University

Translated from the Dutch to the English by John Bezold.

1 Rond het Buitenhof–Opgravingen in het centrum: https://www.denhaag.nl/nl/in-de-stad/vrije-tijd-en-recreatie/kunst-en-cultuur/archeologie/rond-het-buitenhof.html. More links can be consulted at: https://easy.dans.knaw.nl/ui/datasets/id/easy-dataset:66708.

2 H. G. Hamaker (ed.), De rekeningen der grafelijkheid van Holland onder het Henegouwsche huis, drie delen, Utrecht 1875-1878; followed by: H. J. Smit (ed.), De rekeningen der graven en gravinnen uit het Henegouwsche Huis, Utrecht 1924-1939.

3 D. E. H. de Boer, Graaf en grafiek. Sociale en economische ontwikkelingen in het middeleeuwse "Noordholland" tussen 1345 en 1415, Leiden 1978; D. E. H. de Boer, E. H. P. Cordfunke, Graven van Holland: portretten in woord en beeld (880-1580), Zutphen 1995 (first edition); F. P. van Oostrom, Het woord van eer. Literatuur aan het Hollandse hof omstreeks 1400, Amsterdam 1987 (first edition); F. P. van Oostrom, Court and Culture: Dutch Literature, 1350-1450, Berkely 1992.

4 A. van Egmond 2020, pp. 236-237.

5 A. van Egmond, Materiële representatie opgetekend aan het Haagse hof 1345-1425, Hilversum 2020, p. 10; C. Stroo, De celebratie van de macht. Presentatieminiaturen en aanverwante voorstellingen in handschriften van Filips de Goede (1419-1467) en Karel de Stoute (1467-1477), Brussel 2002 (Verhandelingen van de Koninklijke Vlaamse academie van België voor wetenschappen en kunsten, Nieuwe reeks VII), p. 50.

6 Summarised and explicitly stated in the introduction: ‘Portret op perkament en papier’ (p. 98), but also in the preceding passages, discussing seals and coins.

7 A. van Egmond 2020, pp. 57-58.

8 M. Falomir, ‘The court portrait’, in: L. Campbell (et al.), Renaissance faces. Van Eyck to Titian, London 2008, pp. 86-87; A. Martindale, Heroes, ancestors, relatives and the birth of the portrait, Groningen 1988.

9 A. van Beieren, in: Dirc van Delf, Tafel van den kersten ghelove, Baltimore, Walters Art Museum, ms 171, fol. 1r; Book of Hours of Margaret of Cleves, Lisbon, Gulbenkian Museum, ms LA 148, fol. 19v.

10 A. van Egmond 2020 (note 4), p. 224.

11 Paris, Musée du Louvre (dépôt de la BnF), inv. RF 2490; Vienna, Erzbischöfliches Dom- und Diözesanmuseum, inv. L-II.

12 Turin, Biblioteca Nazionale Universitaria, ms K.IV.29, fol. 59v; destroyed in fire in 1904. A. van Egmond 2020, pp. 110, 117-122, 329; H. van der Velden, Jan van Eyck in Holland, 25 August 2011, Felix Meritis in Amsterdam.

13 D. Vanwijnsberghe, ‘De eyckiaanse miniaturen van het Turijns-Milanese Getijdenboek’, in: Maximiliaan Martens (et al.), Van Eyck. Een optische revolutie, Ghent 2020, pp. 305-312.

14 A. van Egmond 2020, p. 121, especially, note 81.

15 See, for instance: R. W. Scheller, Exemplum. Model-Book drawings and the practise of artistic transmission in the middle ages (ca. 900-ca. 1470), Amsterdam 1995, pp. 27-33, 48-61; M. E. Müller (ed.), The use of models in medieval book painting, Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2014, XXIV-XXV; T. Kren, ‘The importance of patterns in the emergence of a new style of Flemish manuscript illumination after 1470’, in: B. Dekeyzer, J. Van der Stock (eds.), Manuscripts in transition. Recycling manuscripts, texts and images, Leuven 2005 (Corpus of illuminated manuscripts, 15), pp. 357-377.

16 A. van Egmond 2020, pp. 118-122; S. Kemperdick, ‘Noch einmal zum Problem der Seitenverkehrung in der Strandszene des "Turin-Mailänder Stundenbuchs"’, Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 60 (1997), pp. 250-251; C. Sterling, ‘Jan van Eyck avant 1432’, Revue de l’art 33 (1976), p. 60; P. Durrieu, ‘Les débuts des Van Eyck’, Gazette des Beaux-Arts 59 (1903), pp. 16-17, 112-114.

17 A. van Egmond 2020, p. 120, n.74, referring to fig. 12 and 13 (there referred to, incorrectly, ad 11 and 12).

18 ‘Courtoisie’ in the words of Smeyers: M. Smeyers, ‘Answering some questions about the Turin-Milan hours’, in: Le dessin sous-jacent dans la peinture, Colloque VII 1987, Louvain-la-Neuve 1989, p. 60.

19 A. van Egmond 2020, p. 120.

20 The coats of arms marked the seats of the knights of the Golden Fleece in the choir stalls during the various ceremonies of the respective chapter meeting and underscored their status when they were, actually, seated there; subsequently, the coats of arms remained there, as lasting reminders. That these would be substitutes for portraits due to a martial context, is nonsensical: A. van Egmond 2020, p. 227, n.80.

21 M. Kruip, ‘Gulden-Vliesborden in Den Haag: restauratie en interpretatie’, Heraldisch tjdschrift 21 (2015), no. 2, pp. 40-45.

22 Roman de Girart de Roussillon, Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 2549, fol. 6r.

23 A. van Egmond 2020, p. 173: “cybore van den heyligen sacrament van silveren vergult ... daerinne wesende een crystalen glas rondomme mit diverssche cleyne beeldekins silveren vergult.”

24 A. van Egmond 2020, p. 322: “darmen dat heilige sacrament dagelix in dregen sal.”

25 A. van Egmond 2020, p. 163; the description that the wafers ‘in stock’ were kept in the ciborium is incorrect. A. van Egmond 2020, p. 208.

26 A. van Egmond 2020, pp. 55, 222-223, 394.

27 R. Duits, Gold brocade and renaissance painting: A Study in material culture, Pindar Press 2008 (trade version of a dissertation at Utrecht University, 2001); R. W. Lightbown, Medieval European jewellery with a catalogue of the collection in the Victoria & Albert Museum, London 1992 (wherein there are several interesting references to the court in The Hague).

28  Cleveland, The Cleveland Museum of Art, inv. 1954.393; A. van Egmond 2020, pp. 198-200, afb. 62.

29 A. van Egmond 2020, pp. 96, 110, 226-227, 394.

30 M. Damen, ‘Vorstelijke vensters. Glasraamschenkingen als instrument van devotie, memorie en representatie (1419-1519), Jaarboek voor Middeleeuwse Geschiedenis, 8 (2005), pp. 140-200.

31 L. Devillers, ‘La chevalerie et le Prieuré de Saint-Antoine-en-Barbefosse’, Annales de l'Académie Royale d'Archéologie de Belgique, 21 (1865), 563-564; Vanwijnsberghe 2020, p. 312; A. van Egmond 2020, p. note 75 (stained-glass window of Margaretha van Bourgondië), p. 110 (stained-glass window of Willem VI).

32 Devillers 1865, pp. 563-564.

33 A. van Egmond 2020, pp. 228-233, 379.

34 A. van Egmond, ‘Dirc die maelre en Jan van Eyck. Een ambachtsman en een kunstenaar in Den Haag’, Jaarboek geschiedkundige vereniging die Haghe, The Hague 2014, pp. 10-28.

35A. van Egmond 2020, pp. 333, 412.

36 J. Paviot, ‘De familie Van Eyck’, in: M. Martens (et al.) Ghent 2020 (note 10), p. 66.

37 J. Paviot 2020, pp. 61, 66; A. van Egmond 2020, p. 332.

38 ‘Jan van Eyck terug in Den Haag?’, Press release Museum Meermanno, The Hague, 19-01-2012; C. A. Chavannes-Mazel, ‘The fishing party by Jan van Eyck (?). A technical analysis’, in: C. Currie (ed.), Van Eyck studies. Papers presented at the eighteenth symposium for the study of underdrawing and technology in painting, Brussels, 19-21 September 2012, Parijs/Leuven/Bristol 2017, pp. 455-457; J. Paviot 2020, p. 66; elsewhere in the same book, it is posited that the drawing which, 'may have been painted after an original by Jan [van Eyck]' may be associated with the Burgundian court (!?!): J. Dumolyn, F. Buylaert, ‘De wereld van Jan van Eyck. Hofcultuur, luxeproductie, elitaire patronage en sociale distinctie binnen een stedelijk netwerk’, in: M Martens 2020, p. 110.

39 A. van Egmond 2020, pp. (especially) 106-108, 236, 327.

40 A. van Egmond 2020, p. 90, and figs. 16, 19-20, 32-35.

41 R. Lightbown 1992 (note 22), p. 250. Shown in detail on the thumbnail with the founder's family in prayer: Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, Ms. Lat. 1158, fol. 27v.

Jos Koldeweij, ‘Review of: Materiële representatie opgetekend aan het Haagse hof 1345-1425', Oud Holland Reviews, May 2022.