The face of Majesty

Ever since Alfred the Great’s likeness was stamped on coins, royal portraits have marked the might of our monarchs, although–as Michael Prodger discovers–some are excessively flattering

- Michael Prodger

PORTRAITS of English monarchs are as old as the nation itself. It was Alfred the Great (848–899) who first dreamed of a united country and used the title King of the Angles and Saxons—although he never conquered the Danelaw, those parts in the east and north of the country ruled by the Danes. The first true ruler of a recognisable England was his grandson Æthelstan, who, after he captured York in 927, took the title Rex Anglorum—King of the English. Nearly a century later, Cnut the Great, who reigned in 1016–35, became the first monarch to style himself ‘King of England’.

During Alfred’s own lifetime, coins were struck bearing his features. The images are crude—hardly a likeness at all—but, using the profile style inherited from Roman coinage, nevertheless show a beardless, straight-nosed man with short hair neatly tied back by a band. So rudimentary is the por- trait that it is doubtful that any of Alfred’s own courtiers would have been able to recognise their lord from it, but the penny made the royal visage familiar across his kingdom. Every subsequent monarch was memorialised and dis- seminated in the same way.

However, true royal portraits, with a proper resemblance to their subject, were a long time coming. By the time the Tudors won the throne, there were artists skilled enough to capture their individual features. The anonymous artist who painted Henry VII in 1505 portrayed a psychologically convincing figure—less an all-powerful monarch than a wily, mature man with a hint of judgement in his expression.