Professor Butter Beard and George Gower’s Portrait of Elizabeth I
“Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love - that makes life and nature harmonise. The birds are consulting about their migrations, the trees are putting on the hectic or the pallid hues of decay, and begin to strew the ground, that one's very footsteps may not disturb the repose of earth and air, while they give us a scent that is a perfect anodyne to the restless spirit. Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns." - George Eliot, Letter to Miss Lewis, Oct. 1, 1841
In my mind, the Tudors lived in perpetual autumn. A daybreak whisper of mist is always dancing off the Thames. The sunrise is forever a dappling of crimson, pink and teal, announcing the day and awakening the migrating songbirds, dashing squirrels, ever-anxious foxes and the loopy-doopy hunting hounds. There is a chilled dampness in the air, heavily scented with wet earth and fallen over-ripe apples, the last hint of late-summer roses, ash and hawthorn smoke and sloppy puddles of spilled ale.
Inside, the young queen is woken with a quiet knock as emboldened streaks of golden sun scatter across the room when the heavy velvet drapes are dramatically yanked back and tied into place. Dresses arrive in the arms of the ladies-in-waiting. An autumnal rainbow of linen, wool, silk, velvet, taffeta, satin, damask, cloth of gold, cloth of silver, cloth of tissue and caffa, as well as the furs, ermine and miniver.
“Wake, my lady. Master Gower is waiting in the receiving room, and he is wanting to paint in the morning light.”
The scrumptious result is the earliest surviving full-length, life-size portrait of Elizabeth I. She stands on a Turkish carpet in front of an armorial hanging made from cloth of gold. With arms held out stiffly alongside her body, she rests her right hand on the finial of her throne, pinching a red carnation between her fingers and holding a leather riding glove in her hand. She wears a crimson velvet dress with extensive cutwork ornamentation over a richly embroidered linen partlet that erupts into a high ruff collar.
Along with a rope of exquisite pearls and large gems around her waist, the newly crowned queen displays a red rose pinned at the seam between her left sleeve and bodice, and dark green autumn leaves tucked under her cap. Interestingly, the leaves surrounding the pinned rose have been identified as oak, a possible nod to Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, the longtime royal favorite who was often depicted with the same rose and oak ornamentation.
At the far right of the composition, the background opens up to a wall of greenery, which historians believe to be either a represented tapestry or a “real” arbor, with pears, honeysuckle, pomegranates, and grapes entangled in a vision of abundance.
Perpetual autumn.
Elizabeth Cleland, Curator of European Sculpture and Decorated Arts at the Metropolitan Museum writes, “Family tradition contends that the queen presented this portrait to Griffith Hampden, the sheriff of Buckinghamshire, during a visit to his estate, but there is no evidence to verify this.” Other full-length portraits were commissioned by courtiers to commemorate the queen’s progresses, but many art historians agree that this portrait could also have been dispatched abroad to play a role in the queen’s marriage negotiations of the 1560’s or displayed by a courtier wishing to promote the queen’s marriage. Possibly George Gower was employed by her majesty in much the same way her father employed Hans Holbien.
For nearly 450 years, the attribution of this painting remained a mystery. It wasn’t until recently, according to Elizabeth Cleland, that Edward Town and Jessica David suggested that the Hampden portrait belongs in the oeuvre of the British-born Gower, an assertion based in part of infrared photography showing that Gower’s portrait of the Countess of Sussex was painted over a sketch image of Elizabeth I that closely resembles the Hampden portrait.
Rather like a new Professor Butter Beard recipe for a Tudor-inspired autumnal Bundt being fashioned from a dream and scribbled onto the same page my grandmother used to eternalize her own exquisite carrot cake.
My latest interpretation of perpetual autumn combines all the fall essentials: grated carrots and apples grown by my friends at Hauser Hill Farms, dried cranberries soaked overnight in their homemade apple cider, cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, allspice and a hint of clove. A simple glaze, whisked confectioner’s sugar with butter, milk and vanilla paste, rolls over the hills of the cake like the whisper of morning mist off the Thames.
“It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which will forever occur more frequently in memory than in life.” - P.D. James
Professor Butter Beard’s Autumn Bundt Cake
1 Large Bundt Cake (use a 10-cup pan)
Dry:
4 ½ cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp baking soda
2 tsp fine sea salt
1 Tbsp cinnamon
1 Tbsp cardamom
1 ½ tsp ginger
1 ½ tsp freshly grated nutmeg
Wet:
1 cup granulated sugar
Zest of two oranges
1 cup dark brown sugar
4 large eggs, room temperature
1 cup vegetable oil
2/3 cup Greek yoghurt
2 tsp vanilla paste
¼ cup fresh orange juice (use the zested oranges)
Additions:
2 cups freshly grated carrots
1 ½ cups grated apple with the juice (I prefer Honeycrisp apples)
1 cup dried cranberries (soaked overnight in apple cider)
1/4 cup crystallized ginger, cut into small dice
1) Preheat your oven to 325 degrees and evenly spray a 10-cup Bundt pan with cooking spray w/flour.
2) In a large bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients. Set aside.
3) In a second large bowl, whisk together the granulated sugar and orange zest until evenly combined. Whisk in the brown sugar, breaking up any clumps. Whisk in the remaining wet ingredients. Fold in the dry ingredients. Set aside to briefly hydrate while you prepare the additions.
4) Drain the cranberries. Grate the carrots and apples. Fold all four additions into the hydrated batter. Spoon into your prepared Bundt pan and bake on the center rack for 50-55 minutes, testing for doneness with a wooden skewer.
5) Remove the pan from the oven and let cool on a wire rack for ten minutes before inverting to release the cake onto the wire rack to fully cool.
6) I glaze my cake with a simple confectioner’s sugar and milk glaze (with vanilla paste), but you could also top with caramel sauce or freshly whipped cream.
