Esther Inglis: Renaissance calligraphy, art, and diplomacy

She stares up at us with a sweet but determined smile. She wears the decorative hood, loose white smock and belted jacket common to many middle-class working women of her day. Her left hand rests gently on the page of an open book, while her right is about to dip a sharpened quill pen into an inkwell.

The image is made up of such minute dots and fine cross-hatched lines we could be looking at a print produced by a computer, yet we can be in no doubt that this likeness has been drawn onto the page by this woman's hand. It is one of the earliest known self-portraits by a Scottish woman who made her own living as an artist and writer.

Esther Inglis (1571 to 1624) was probably born in Dieppe in northern France. Her Huguenot Protestant parents fled their home country for London during the French Wars of Religion. As religious refugees, they were welcomed into a small French-speaking Protestant community in Leith. Later, they opened a French school in Edinburgh, close to the future site of the Library's George IV Bridge building.

We can guess from a surviving calligraphy manuscript made by her mother, Marie Presot, that Esther was taught the art of fine handwriting at home. As a young woman, working at her parents' school, she clearly discovered she had a unique talent. Esther resolved to turn it to her and her family's advantage.

At the age of 21, Esther created a manuscript called 'Discours de la Foy'. It was addressed to none other than Elizabeth I of England and used 40 different styles of handwriting. This is now in the Huntington Library, San Marino, California. You can view 'Discours de la Foy' online. Composed during the period in which the Huguenot King Henri IV of France was appealing to Elizabeth for military assistance, the manuscript reminded the English Queen of her duties as a Protestant ruler.

More than 60 of Esther Inglis's manuscripts have now been identified in private collections and public libraries around the world. Most are intricately transcribed copies of religious texts, Psalms and other Bible verses designed for presentation to royalty and high-ranking Protestant courtiers. She left no diaries and few letters. She made sure, however, that we can get a glimpse of what she read, her faith, and views on the political and religious conflicts of the day, her love for her family, and her artistic skill in her gifts to these potential supporters.

As well as being a skilful calligrapher, Esther's talents crossed over into many other spheres of her era's interest. She embellished her early pen-and-ink manuscripts with her patrons' coats of arms and decorative borders. In an age before the introduction of the metal pen nib, the effect is so exquisitely detailed that it mimics the printed page.

From 1599 onwards she began to include her own self-portraits, along with flattering dedications to herself from the notable Scottish humanists and men of letters in her social circle. She was also multilingual, shifting easily between French, Latin and Scots. Through her translations and her own addresses to her prospective patrons, she is increasingly recognised as an important Renaissance poet in her own right.

Around the time she began to make her presentation manuscripts, Esther had married a Scotsman. (She kept her maiden name, as was the custom in 16th century Scotland). Bartilmo Kello was a shadowy figure. He is thought to have been part of a group of spies involved in secret intelligence to smooth the path of James VI to the English throne upon the death of Elizabeth I.

Tasked with bringing the King's correspondence and official documents to other European courts, Bartilmo was well-placed to deliver his wife's beautiful manuscript gifts. Esther, indeed, may have played an active role in these diplomatic exchanges by writing neat copies of her husband's letters. Bartilmo described her in a document meant for the eyes of James VI as "the mest exquisit wreater within this Realme".

The couple followed the King to England after he succeeded Elizabeth I, moving their young family to London in 1604. Reeling from the impact of some bad investments, they found themselves in a precarious position on the fringes of the Jacobean court. With three small surviving children and more on the way, Esther developed a new style.

She turned to watercolours to illuminate her calligraphy with miniature flowers, birds and butterflies. Some are edged with gold leaf, a reminder of the Protestant belief that God was manifest in all living things, even the most marginal of creatures.

Around a quarter of her manuscripts were made at this time, revealing the painstaking lengths she went to supporting her family. Three of these volumes are in our collection. These include a rare example of her daring experiments painting on vellum in a manuscript made for the artistic patron Lucy Harington Russell, Countess of Bedford (a favourite of the Queen). You can view this manuscript online.

In 1607, the King granted Bartilmo a living as a clergyman at a parish in Essex. Shortly afterwards, Esther seems to have stopped producing manuscripts in this style. One of the last flower volumes was dedicated to her landlord, possibly as payment for overdue rent.

The most precious of the Library's Esther Inglis manuscripts was made in 1615 and given to James VI and I. It contains handwritten extracts from the Psalms along with a portrait miniature of the Biblical King David and a self-portrait in watercolour.

Just four inches high, it fits snugly in the palm of the hand and was bound (we think by Esther herself) in mulberry velvet embroidered with silver and gold thread. The decoration is emblazoned with a phoenix. The mythical bird which dies and rises again is a symbol of the lasting power of monarchy referenced by the King in his own poetry. It is at once unassuming and richly accomplished. A jewel-like object meant to inspire religious devotion.

The respect Esther gained through her gift books is evident. In 1620, she wrote in her unmistakable handwriting to petition the King to find a fellowship for her son Samuel, newly graduated from the University of Edinburgh. She writes, "either in Cambridge or Oxefoord". A position at Christ Church, Oxford, and a living as a clergyman in Suffolk, was duly found for him. See the letter online (and admire her amazing handwriting).

Calligrapher, artist, embroiderer, poet and mother, these manuscripts tell the story of a genre-defying early modern woman who wrote herself into history.

Heidi Egginton is a Curator in the Archives and Manuscripts team at the National Library of Scotland, where she looks after modern political archives as well as artists’ archives. She loves uncovering forgotten stories in the collections, especially about the ways in which women have engaged with archives.