In his poem "The Storm," John Donne wrote, "a hand, or eye/ by Hilliard drawn, is worth a history." Two-inch-high portraits by court artist Nicholas Hilliard (1547–1619) continue to make an impact out of all proportion to their size. In June 2007, the winning bid at Christie’s for a previously unrecorded Hilliard miniature of Queen Elizabeth I was £276,000 ($560,000).

English miniatures were first painted in Henry VIII’s reign (1509–47) by Lucas Hornebolte (d. 1544), who was followed by Hans Holbein (1497–1543) and Levina Teerlinc (c. 1510–76). These artists adapted Flemish techniques of "limning," or manuscript illumination, and pasted thin vellum to a playing card, which they painted in watercolor. Set in jeweled lockets, limnings were usually private love tokens. Philadelphia dealer Elle Shushan says, "Miniatures are the most personal form of portraiture; they were meant specifically for the ones you loved." Queen Elizabeth I would pin a locket containing her suitor’s image to her shoe and eventually, he hoped, to her elbow and then her heart. Gazing at a miniature can grant voyeuristic access to private passions.

For Holbein, miniatures were an opportunity to display his ability to reduce his larger portraits to a tiny format, while still giving his sitters great presence. But this skill could backfire, as happened with his charming miniature of Anne of Cleves, Henry VIII’s future bride. Court chroniclers promoted the fiction that royal fiancés fell in love with unknown princesses on seeing their portraits. Unfortunately for Henry, it was true, and when he finally met the real Anne he was shocked, encountering, in his words, a "fat Flemish mare" who, despite her lively wit, couldn’t dance and had halitosis. Even Holbein’s genius couldn’t save the marriage.

Despite this mishap, Hilliard claimed, "Holbein’s manner of limning I have ever imitated," though his artistic style was quite different. He and his pupils modeled the faces of their sitters in a delicate "carnation hew" set against a vivid background. Hilliard had trained as a goldsmith, and his limnings are resplendent with gold inscriptions and faux jewels created by placing tinted resin over burnished silver. He even described his palette in terms of jewels—"five perfect colours in the world which I prove by the five principal precious stones."
 
According to Roy Strong, former director of the National Portrait Gallery and the Victoria & Albert Museum, the revival in popularity of Elizabethan miniatures after World War II was due to renewed appreciation of these lively colors by the art historian Graham Reynolds. Hilliard’s bright palette and his painting of sitters en plein air reminded connoisseurs of Impressionism. Strong argued that the lack of optical perspective in Elizabethan portraiture tied into the vogue in the 1960s for Picasso and primitivism. Recent media focus on Elizabeth I due to Cate Blanchett’s portrayal of the Virgin Queen in the film, "The Golden Age" has made these works fashionable yet again.
 
Their rarity and high value mean that Elizabethan miniatures are not often for sale by dealers, according to New York dealer Christine Archibald. November 2007, she says, was "an exciting time in the auction arena, since both Bonhams and Christie’s held their Fine Portrait Miniatures sales, and Christie’s had the Gordon Collection of Portrait Miniatures sale." All three auctions showcased early limnings, including some by Hilliard and his successors at court, Isaac Oliver (c. 1565–1617) and his son, Peter (1594–1647).
 
As Hilliard is perceived as the premier miniaturist of the Elizabethan age, his works are the most valuable, selling from £50,000 ($102,000) to more than £200,000 ($406,000), according to Camilla Seymour of Bonhams. Further down the scale is Levina Teerlinc (£50,000 or $102,000), a lady-in-waiting who limned her royal subjects with characteristic "matchstick arms." Isaac and Peter Oliver painted in the Mannerist tradition, more Italianate than English, and fetch £40,000 to £60,000 ($81,000–$122,000). Strong notes that works by the Olivers, though not as fashionable in the market, are often superb in their execution and conception. And the Hilliard name does not always confer magic. A limning by Nicholas Hilliard’s less talented son Laurence (1581/2–c. 1648) sold for £10,000 ($20,000) at Christie’s in November 2007.