The adventures of the Duke of Monmouth’s portrait

A couple of months ago, I came across a fairly interesting book on portraiture written by Shearer West, professor of Art History at the University of Birmingham. It is not the kind of reading one reaches for in an emergency; one is unlikely, in such a case, to need a theoretical overview of portraits on the one hand, and intricate interconnections of power and general symbolism across the ages on the other. However, for all the other situations, this work can bring intellectual enjoyment.

As it often goes, the introductory chapter is called "What Is a Portrait?"

Notably, it is not the source of what follows here – only a point of departure.

Everybody knows that a portrait has to do with a human head. Everybody who spends hours on the grounds of the Tower also knows a couple of stories where heads are involved, with or without a human body attached to them (which is also typical of portraits).

An important part of this repertoire, and for a reason, is the story of James Scott, the Duke of Monmouth. Having lived in the 17th century, he was the eldest of Charles II’s 14 illegitimate children: moneyed, titled, commanding armies. At some point, he even proposed himself as a candidate for the throne to succeed his father. His rebellion, however, was defeated, and the Duke was brought to the Tower, attainted of High Treason by Act of Parliament, and, eventually, executed on Tower Hill on 15 July 1685.

Legend has it that, after a gory execution scene – which involved numerous not-so-fine blows of an axe and, possibly, a knife (some would go even further and specify that it was a butcher’s instrument) – it was decided that the Duke was, in fact, in desperate need of an official portrait of his. It is said that after all the pain and effort put into detaching his head from his shoulders, these two parts were stitched back together. After that, the sitter was ready to pose – not without external support, no doubt, that can overcome the inconvenience of rigor mortis. To keep up appearances, according to this story, in this portrait, the Duke sports a very prominent collar.

This July, this story celebrates another anniversary. Most likely, you have already heard it – and we will hear of it a lot, because it goes well with the sort of narrative-driven theatricality the grounds of the Tower are in favour of.

However, if one goes to the National Portrait Gallery, as of now – its vast collection goes on and off the walls all the time – the Duke of Monmouth can be found on the 3rd floor, Room 7. On this portrait, that was created approximately a decade before his untimely death, the Duke is possibly shown in his mid-twenties, at the siege of Maastricht (1673): it is a heroic figure on horseback, riding high in any possible sense.

There, he also sports a collar.