Showing posts with label Anthony Van Dyck. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anthony Van Dyck. Show all posts

Sunday, 23 March 2014

The Eventful Life of Sir Kenelm Digby

Sir Kenelm Digby had the kind of life that makes for an interesting story - an English courtier and privateer, he travelled throughout Europe, was multi-lingual, interested in alchemy and natural philosophy, and was a naval administrator. I really admire him for his great curiosity about the world around him, much like other great men of his time. 

Born in 1603 to Mary and Everard Digby - the latter one of the Gunpowder Plotters who was executed by hanging, drawing, and quartering - Kenelm Digby was as Catholic as his family; something that would eventually bring him some trouble! 

Through the ages he has become most well-known (when he is remembered at all) for The Closet of the Eminently Learned Sir Kenelme Digby, which every researcher of the 17th-century knows and loves. This book, much like The English Hus-Wife by Gervase Markham is chock-full of cookery recipes that would have been helpful back then. Who am I kidding? I make food for my family even now with some of his recipes!

For example, here is his recipe for making a plain, English potage:


"Make it of Beef, Mutton and Veal; at last adding a Capon, or Pigeons. Put in at first a quartered Onion or two, some Oat-meal, or French barley, some bottome of a Venison-pasty-crust, twenty whole grains of Pepper: four or five Cloves at last, and a little bundle of sweet-herbs, store of Marigold-flowers. You may put in Parsley or other herbs."

But before he was into domestic preparations, he had a life of adventure - the stuff of Hollywood films. In the 1620s, the young, dashing, handsome Digby went to sea as a privateer, but things weren't always great. According to The Early Stuarts by Godfrey Davies:

"The Earl of Warwick received a commission to attack any Spanish dominions in Europe, Africa, or America, but achieved little, and Sir Kenelm Digby's semi-piratical expedition to the Mediterranean was equally futile."

It seems that Digby's advancement in government was blocked by the Duke of Buckingham. This is pretty likely, as Buckingham had a reputation to support such behaviour.

The Lewis Walpole Library, Yale University
But not everything was about work. In the late 1620s, Kenelm met the woman who would become his wife. Venetia Stanley was - from every description written and every painting of her - a gorgeous creature. She was very much sought-after and Kenelm was no exception.

Unfortunately, Venetia was seen as a sort of good-time girl, and had openly bestowed her favours on the Earl of Dorset and borne him children. This circumstance was a source of great vexation to Kenelm's mother, who was adamantly opposed the match because of Venetia's known wantonness.

Venetia Lady Digby as Prudence: by Anthony Van Dyck

Also, Venetia was a couple of years older than Kenelm, but that was no impediment for the ardent young man. He was quickly besotted by her, and it appears she quite liked him in return, though there were always many suitors fluttering around her.

But amor vincit omnia, as they say, "love conquers all things" and when Kenelm returned from abroad, he married his Venetia, despite his mother's continued protestations. When people gave him a hard time about her bad reputation, he is said to have responded with: 

"a wise man, and lusty, could make an honest woman out of a brothel house."


Venetia was believed to have fully embraced her role as respectable wife and was very different in her behaviour than when she was a younger woman. She and Kenelm had three sons - Kenelm, George and John.

Sadly, their marital felicity was of short duration. Venetia died suddenly aged thirty-two, and the cause has been a source of mystery ever since. According to John Aubrey's Brief Lives:

"She died in her bed suddenly. Some suspected that she was poisoned. When her head was opened there was found to be little brain, which her husband imputed to her drinking of viper wine; but spiteful women would say it was a viper-husband who was jealous of her, that she would steal a leap."

As mentioned earlier, Kenelm Digby had knowledge of chemistry and probably poisons, too. That being said, however, I think his involvement in her death highly improbable, especially as he had fought hard to win her in the first place, and he displayed overwhelming grief at her death. Some modern historians speculate that drinking viper wine was a bit of a craze, done in order to maintain beauty. Since Venetia was a known beauty and considered rather old already, I don't think it impossible that she tried this potion in order to maintain her famous looks. Here below is the painting of Venetia on her deathbed, as painted by the popular Flemish Baroque artist, Anthony van Dyck.

Image: The Trustees of Dulwich Picture Gallery

Haunted by the death of so dear a wife, Sir Kenelm retreated from the public sphere and Aubrey states he lived like a hermit:

"After her death, to avoid envy and scandal, he retired to Gresham College at London, where he diverted himself with his chemistry, and the professors' good conversation. He wore there a long mourning cloak, a high crowned hat, his beard unshorn, looked like a hermit, as signs of sorrow for his beloved wife, to whose memory he erected a sumptuous monument, now quite destroyed by the great conflagration (The Great Fire)."

As Aubrey stated above, Kenelm 'diverted himself with his chemistry' and by the 1650s, others commented upon this. John Evelyn mentions Digby's scientific pursuits in his Diary entry for 7th of November, 1651:

"I visited Sir Kenholm Digby with whom I had much discourse of chymical matters, I shew'd him a particular way of extracting oyle of (symbol) & he gave me a certaine powder with which he affirm'd he had fixed (symbol) before the late King, which he advised me to try and digest a little better, & gave me a Water, which he said was onely raine water of the Autumnal equinox exceedingly rectified, very volatile, it had a tast of a strong vitriolique, and smelt like aqua fortis, he intended it for a disolvant of (symbol). But the truth is, Sir Kenhelme, was an arrant Mountebank."

Evelyn mentions him again on the 20th of November, 1651:

"I went to see Monsieur Feburs course of Chymistrie, where I found Sir K. Digby, and divers Curious Persons of Learning & quality."

Digby never remarried following Venetia's death and had lived through the reigns of James I, Charles I, the English Civil Wars, the Interregnum, and witnessed the Restoration. He had been one of the founding members of the Royal Society and was an important part of the times.

Sir Kenelm Digby died on his birthday 11th June 1665 at the ripe old age of 62 (a month shy of 63). I know, 62 isn't old at all now - it's almost middle-aged! But I remember the words of Lewis Melville, writing in his book "The Windsor Beauties" when he wrote:

"...was thirty five, which in those days was regarded as quite elderly."

If thirty-five was considered elderly, how much more so was sixty-two?!

At any rate, the epitaph upon his tomb reads:

    Under this tomb the matchless Digby lies,Digby the great, the valiant, and the wise:This age's wonder for his noble parts,Skilled in nix tongues, and learned in all the arts:Born on the day he died, the eleventh of June,On which he bravely fought at Scanderoon;'Tis rare that one and the same day should be His day of birth, of death and victory.



Andrea Zuvich is a 17th-century historian and author of two nonfiction history books on the Stuarts: The Stuarts in 100 Facts (2015), and A Year in the Life of Stuart Britain (2016), as well as the biographical fiction novella His Last Mistress: The Duke of Monmouth & Lady Henrietta Wentworth and also the historical horror The Stuart VampireShe is the creator of The Seventeenth Century LadyFollow her on Twitter and Facebook for daily 17th-century factoids, Baroque music and art.

Tuesday, 26 February 2013

Bearding Van Dyck


I have just returned from a visit to the US which for an Australian, means 15 hours pinned to an uncomfortable seat by the person in front of you on full recline with nowhere to go and nothing to do except watch the TV screen in front of you. What a brilliant invention inseat TV is! I managed to catch not only Lincoln (Daniel Day Lewis a deserving Oscar winner) but also a little gem of a BBC TV program called Fake or Fortune.

Henrietta Maria after restoration
The Henrietta Maria Portrait before restoration
The concept of this program is to discover the provenance and attribution of notable artworks and it just happened the program I caught was on a suspected Van Dyck. Phillip Mould, the presenter of the program and an art dealer, purchased (for a few thousand pounds) a picture of a young woman described merely as Flemish School 17th century. He suspected he had found a Van Dyck portrait of Henrietta Maria. Like the layers of paint on the picture itself the program peeled back the history of a much copied portrait of Henrietta Maria, portrayed as St. Catherine.  Why was the painting overpainted? Was it because the Catholic imagery was unpalatable to a Protestant society? What was Henrietta Maria trying to convey with the symbolism of St. Catherine?

All of this is by way of a long winded preamble into a quick look at Anthony Van Dyck, the pre-eminent portrait painter of Charles I court. Think of any iconic portrait of Charles, his wife, family and friends and you can be sure the painting was by Van Dyck.
Anthony Van Dyck - self portrait

Born in Antwerp in 1599, the young Van Dyck learned his art in the studio of Peter Paul Rubens. He first came into contact with the English Court in 1620 under the patronage of George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham.  Charles I came to the throne in 1628 and threw himself into patronage and collection of great art works, often with the advice of Van Dyck. In 1632 he returned to the English Court as “principalle Paynter in ordinary to their majesties”. Over the next ten years, until his death in London in 1640, he brought the English court to life in a way never before seen in portrait painting.

Portrait painting was controlled by the Guild of Painters so to avoid this monopoly, Van Dyck was given a studio at Blackfriars on the river, along with a suite of rooms in the now unused Eltham Palace. During his time at court he painted over 70 portraits of the royal family and a special causeway was built to facilitate their visits to his studio.

However not every portrait was completely painted by the Master himself. He established a large studio in London, effectively a production line of portrait painting. It was his practice to make a drawing on paper which was then put on to the canvas by an assistant. He generally painted only the head of the sitter. Clothing and backgrounds were subcontracted. Although he had a studio of pupils and assistants there seems to be no connection with his studio and later painters of any significance.

Margaret Lemon
Not long after his arrival in London, Margaret Lemon became his mistress and he had a daughter by her. In 1638 Charles I granted him the rights of a “denizen” (effectively a citizen) and he married one of Henrietta Maria’s Ladies in Waiting, Mary daughter of Lord Ruthven. Over the next few years, Van Dyck travelled extensively in Europe but in 1641, in Paris, he fell ill and returned to London to die at the age of only 42. His tomb and monument (paid for by the King) in St. Paul’s Cathedral were destroyed in the Great Fire of London.

During his lifetime he lived extravagantly but managed to leave his wife and mistress and their daughters well provided for. Both daughters eventually lived in Belgium.

Philip Herbert, 4th Earl of Pembroke, in the robes of the Order of the Garter c. 1615. Unknown artist,National Portrait Gallery, London
One of his great patrons was Philip, 4th Earl of Pembroke and by comparing these 2 portraits (above and below) you can immediately see the shift from the formal portraiture of the early part of the century with Van Dyck’s natural approach. I particularly love this portrait of Pembroke because it is in the National Gallery of Victoria and is the only Van Dyck I have ready access to!

Phil Herbert, 4th Earl of Pembroke. National Gallery of Victoria

 The beautiful face of the young Queen that emerged from beneath the varnish of the Mould portrait of Queen Henrietta Maria, is immediately compelling (and was the catalyst for Mould’s belief he had found a Van Dyck). However Van Dyck may have been guilty of flattering his sitters. When Sophia, later Electoress of Hanover, first met Queen Henrietta Maria, in exile in Holland in 1641, she wrote: "Van Dyck's handsome portraits had given me so fine an idea of the beauty of all English ladies, that I was surprised to find that the Queen, who looked so fine in painting, was a small woman raised up on her chair, with long skinny arms and teeth like defence works projecting from her mouth...



April 1 is the release date for my latest book, SECRETS IN TIME, a short contemporary time travel with a seventeenth century cavalier and a Van Dyck portrait!

When a seventeenth-century cavalier hurls himself over her garden wall, Doctor Jessica Shepherd is more angry than surprised. Although she ís no stranger to military re-enactors, there ís something different about Nathaniel Preston. If he ís to be believed, something…or someone…has sent him forward in time from the midst of a civil war to the quiet English countryside of the twentieth century.
With time working against them, Nathaniel has to convince Jessica why fate brought them together before he ís forced to return to his own era and certain death in battle.
Can the strength of love overcome all obstacles, even time itself?