KEY POINTS:
This fascinating book, which is almost epic in its depiction of the sweep of 17th-century history, traces the growth, dispersion and subsequent fate of the Royal Collection of art assembled under Charles I.
In the National Gallery in London there is a painting by Van Dyck, court painter to the King, that exemplifies his personality. The painter has depicted him as noble and sensitive and just dismounted from a magnificent horse. He has successfully disguised the King's exceptionally short stature and thin, weak legs. The combination of royal dignity and weakness is the key to Charles, who was the greatest collector of art to have ever sat on the throne of England.
When you leave the National Gallery you look down Whitehall past the equestrian statue of Charles towards the splendid Banqueting House. It was from a window of this palace that Charles stepped out on to the scaffold where he was to be beheaded. Inside the hall, still today, is the great baroque ceiling painting by Sir Peter Paul Rubens that Charles commissioned to glorify his father James I.
James had not been much interested in art but his eldest son Henry died, aged 18, clutching a bronze statuette by Giovanni Bologna. Charles inherited both the throne and the interest in art.
His involvement with Italian painting was fostered by noblemen close to him, notably the Duke of Buckingham. When Charles wanted to marry the Infanta of Spain he took Buckingham with him to help his wooing. They returned without the Princess but Charles did bring back fond memories of the splendour of the royal art collection. The passionate extravagance of his subsequent collecting played a large part in his disputes with Parliament and, led, ultimately, to his defeat in the Civil War.
After his execution, Parliament put all the royal possessions up for sale and the collection was dispersed mainly to France and Spain. Some of the less erotic and Catholic works were retained by the state, particularly after Oliver Cromwell became Lord Protector and demanded something of the splendour of a king. This saved the great series by Mantegna called The Triumph of Caesar, which is still the glory of Hampton Court.
On the restoration of Charles II, a large number of paintings and tapestries were reclaimed and are still the basis of the present Royal Collection.
All this is covered in immense detail in Jerry Brottons book, with shrewd pictures of the personalities. It is based on profound knowledge of both art and history.
It is at times fairly hard going but it is immensely rewarding. It lays to rest some myths, notably that Parliament sold the art cheaply and that the collection was wrecked beyond reassembling, which was not the case. He also makes it clear Parliament was responsible for the great public collections that grace many of Europe's galleries today. The book was shortlisted in last year's Samuel Johnson Prize.
- Pan, $28
* T. J. McNamara is the Herald art reviewer.
