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.
Denne historien er fra April 26, 2023-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
Allerede abonnent ? Logg på
Denne historien er fra April 26, 2023-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
Allerede abonnent? Logg på
Save our family farms
IT Tremains to be seen whether the Government will listen to the more than 20,000 farming people who thronged Whitehall in central London on November 19 to protest against changes to inheritance tax that could destroy countless family farms, but the impact of the good-hearted, sombre crowds was immediate and positive.
A very good dog
THE Spanish Pointer (1766–68) by Stubbs, a landmark painting in that it is the artist’s first depiction of a dog, has only been exhibited once in the 250 years since it was painted.
The great astral sneeze
Aurora Borealis, linked to celestial reindeer, firefoxes and assassinations, is one of Nature's most mesmerising, if fickle displays and has made headlines this year. Harry Pearson finds out why
'What a good boy am I'
We think of them as the stuff of childhood, but nursery rhymes such as Little Jack Horner tell tales of decidedly adult carryings-on, discovers Ian Morton
Forever a chorister
The music-and way of living-of the cabaret performer Kit Hesketh-Harvey was rooted in his upbringing as a cathedral chorister, as his sister, Sarah Sands, discovered after his death
Best of British
In this collection of short (5,000-6,000-word) pen portraits, writes the author, 'I wanted to present a number of \"Great British Commanders\" as individuals; not because I am a devotee of the \"great man, or woman, school of history\", but simply because the task is interesting.' It is, and so are Michael Clarke's choices.
Old habits die hard
Once an antique dealer, always an antique dealer, even well into retirement age, as a crop of interesting sales past and future proves
It takes the biscuit
Biscuit tins, with their whimsical shapes and delightful motifs, spark nostalgic memories of grandmother's sweet tea, but they are a remarkably recent invention. Matthew Dennison pays tribute to the ingenious Victorians who devised them
It's always darkest before the dawn
After witnessing a particularly lacklustre and insipid dawn on a leaden November day, John Lewis-Stempel takes solace in the fleeting appearance of a rare black fox and a kestrel in hot pursuit of a pipistrelle bat
Tarrying in the mulberry shade
On a visit to the Gainsborough Museum in Sudbury, Suffolk, in August, I lost my husband for half an hour and began to get nervous. Fortunately, an attendant had spotted him vanishing under the cloak of the old mulberry tree in the garden.
