Clues to king's love hidden in portrait

Louise de Keroualle, Duchess of Portsmouth, ca 1671, by Henri Gascard. Photo / Supplied.

The arrival of one particular French beauty at court in 1670 caused ... tongues to wag. Louise Renée de Penancoet de Keroualle, Duchess of Portsmouth and Aubigny (1649-1734), was born to an ancient, provincial (and impoverished) aristocratic family from Brittany.

Of all the portraits in Auckland's collection, that of Louise de Keroualle has the richest story. She first came to England in 1670 as maid of honour to Charles II's sister, Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans, who was a major supporter of the French, and therefore Catholic, cause.

The fresh cheeks and pert young lips of the young maid of honour immediately attracted the King's attention, and when his sister asked Charles which of her many priceless gems she should leave behind as a token of her visit, he indicated Louise de Keroualle, saying "she is the only jewel I covet". After Henrietta died the following year, Louis XIV sent Louise back to England, and rumours immediately sprang up that she was there to serve as a Catholic spy within the Protestant Court.

Costume was much discussed at the time, John Evelyn's diary recording that in 1666 Charles II consciously abandoned French fashion in an attempt to support the English fabric and lace industries.

By now most English court painters had followed [Sir Peter] Lely's lead in depicting women with a degree of informality, their bodies defined by simple white shifts draped with swathes of loose fabric, with only the briefest hint of stays beneath their satin and silk, in spite of general fears that loose gowns equalled loose morals.

This did not mean that women were now appearing in public dressed liked this, as court appearances still demanded formality, but in art, different rules could apply.

[The artist Henri] Gascard (1634/5-1701) had studied in Rome in 1659 and later spent time in the Netherlands as well as England before returning to Paris, where he was received as a member of the Academie Royale in 1680. In Auckland's painting, he portrays Louise resplendent in formal court attire, denoting the reputation of the French as arbiters of style.

The King's attentions came with a price, for he also gave her some form of venereal disease which he tried to ameliorate with the gift of a pearl necklace, commonly thought to cure such ailments. Pearls continued to be in enormous demand - their price tripled in the first 60 years of the century, as they were still considered an essential component of English court dress.

Nor were they only worn as jewellery. Both Lely and Gascard delighted in showing off the polished breasts of the beauties in the English court, who achieved this effect by whitening and softening them with cosmetic washes before brushing them with powder made from seed pearls. Women's nipples were also painted pink on occasion with a mixture of cochineal and egg white.

In 1675, the French preacher Abbe Boileau wrote a treatise condemning the practice, entitled "A Just and Seasonable Reprehension of Naked Breasts and Shoulders", and an English counterpart, Thomas Hall's "Diverse Reasons against painting spots, naked back, breasts, arms etc", also fulminated against the depiction of fleshy excess in portraiture.

Louise's gesture towards a rose draws attention to her motto, "En la rose je fleuris - As a rose I flower." And indeed she did, for after giving birth to the King's son, Charles, Duke of Richmond in 1673, Louise was granted the title Duchess of Portsmouth. Nicknamed Fubs because of her chubby cheeks, she was much loved by the King, who remained patient of the huge debts she constantly ran up.

His affection, however, failed to protect her from the taunts of his other mistresses, particularly the actress Nell Gwyn (variously referred to as Nell Gwynn or Gwynne), who nicknamed her Squintabella. When Gwyn was mobbed once in her coach she threw open the window and shouted reassuringly that she was the Protestant whore, and was allowed to pass unmolested.

Isabella van Nassau-Beverweerd, Countess of Arlington, was one of the most visible women at the Stuart court, and she and her husband were keen promoters of the important role mistresses could play as tokens of political alliance. Her portrait was on display at their country seat at Euston Hall, Suffolk, when Louise de Keroualle went through a mock "marriage" with the King in 1671 during a house party there. John Evelyn's diary entry of November 4 notes:

"It was universally reported that the faire Lady - was bedded one of these nights, and the stocking flung, after the manner of a married Bride: I acknowledge she was, for the most part, in her undresse all day, and that there was fondnesse, & toying, with that young wanton; nay 'twas said, I was at the former ceremonie, but tis utterly false, & I neither saw, nor heard of any such thing whilst I was there, though I had been in her chamber & all over that apartment late enough; & was myselfe observing all passages with curiosity enough; however 'twas with confidence believed that she was first made a Misse, as they cald these unhappy creatures, with solemnity at this time."

Poor Catherine of Braganza had been roundly mocked for her old- fashioned Portuguese costume and hairstyle when she had first arrived at the English court.

A good and loving wife, whose only fault had been her inability to produce an heir, Catherine could only suffer Charles' constant attentions to his mistresses, and therefore the inclusion of the dog as a symbol of fidelity would seem deeply ironic.

In contrast, in Auckland's painting, Louise's shimmering brocade dress (which symbolises her allegiance to the French court), the dog that stands in, as it were, for Charles II, and her hand placed delicately under water from the fountain, all declare that she is indeed the King's "bride" in everything but name.

- Angels & Aristocrats: Early European Art in the New Zealand Public Collections (Godwit/ Random House $75)