… unless you are talking about historical research. Last week’s blog post on the Battle of the Nile was illustrated with a painting by Nicholas Pocock. It looks to me to provide a reasonable representation of the situation as the battle started. In the distance you can see smoke from the cannon at the fort of Abū Qīr which opened fire on Nelson’s fleet as it approached the French from the west. (None of the British ships was damaged). The onshore wind is preventing the French from escaping. The British are about to divide their force into two lines, one of which will move into the clear water between the French fleet and the shore before the lines roll up the French from the west, leading to their dramatic victory.
It’s a nice picture, but not particularly dramatic one. Much more exciting is this one:
This was painted by Thomas Whitcombe in 1816, for a book on Naval Achievements of Great Britain from the Year 1793 to 1817. This wasn’t just some standard oil painting to glorify Britain’s Naval achievements: it was specifically illustrating an account of the battle. Compare it with the other picture. The flags clearly show the onshore wind that trapped the French. We see the British fleet approaching from seaward with the land invisible somewhere behind the French. The French line has started firing from its western end, as it did in real life because that’s the way the fleet approached. Except, of course, the fleet here appears to be approaching from the east. It’s possible, because I’m not a specialist naval historian, that I’ve misunderstood it and that the fleet somehow managed to hook round, although this seems very unlikely. It’s also not at all what is shown in the previous painting.
This illustrates the danger that paintings pose for all historians. We have to remember that it is rare that the painters were actually present during the actions that they commemorate. Probably one of the most famous images of the battle of Waterloo is the charge of the Scots Greys, Scotland Forever! It was painted by Lady Butler, the wife of Sir William Francis Butler. She painted Scotland Forever! in 1881, 66 years after the battle. She had the advantage of watching her husband’s troops charge during training manoeuvres and she catches the sense of speed and movement very well. Except, of course, that she had never seen an actual battle, let alone watch a regiment moving forward across the churned up mud of the field of Waterloo. The heroic charges were very slow. It’s likely that the horses never reached a full gallop. They certainly didn’t look the way they are shown in the painting.
People have been making historical errors based on pictures of battles ever since we started believing that Harold died at Hastings with an arrow in his eye. (He might have, of course, but it’s more likely that he was supposed to be the guy on the right being hacked down. In any case, the artist wasn’t there and didn’t know.)
My personal favourite for misleading historical pictures is this one from a museum in Buenos Aires.
It shows an Argentinian soldier being welcomed by one of the Falkland Islanders who are being liberated from British rule. The historical record suggests this didn’t happen.
I could go on (and on … and on …) but I hope this has made the point. Paintings – even paintings done in the lifetime of some of the combatants – are a spectacularly unreliable source of historical data, yet their hold on our imagination is so great that, even when we have every reason to be suspicious, we are still sure that Harold died with an arrow in his eye.
Wow, I had no idea that paintings shouldn’t be used in this manner. You taught me something new today.
Do you enjoy looking at paintings for aesthetic reasons? I’ll continue to look forward to the day when it’s safe to return to art museums. I love seeing snapshots of life hundreds of years ago even if it wasn’t always accurate. 🙂
We’re opening galleries in London now, but I must admit I’m not rushing to go. You have to be so careful about these ‘snapshots’. For example, many paintings depicting knights in armour (and the Victorians love these) show completely the wrong armour for the period they are supposed to be representing. But then you get lovely sketches made at the time. In Mendoza (Argentina) there’s a museum full of watercolours by someone who just painted everyday people depicting different trades and fashions. It’s brilliant. And I remember coming across someone who went round London in the 19th century painting the old buildings before the new building of the Victorian age meant they were mainly demolished.
The same can be said of portraits, although the sitter was usually present. But they are still useful as they give a sense of what both the artist and sitter thought it important to convey. Often the symbolism in the painting then shows a bigger idea about the person’s importance or status, as well as specific detail about clothing. And don’t forget we are creating fictional worlds not non-fiction. So I defend the use of paintings as a brilliant tool for the imagination and another window to help open out our view of the past. They were the movies and photography of their day before such things existed, and like movies, their accuracy is often not the main point.
The trouble is that many people don’t realise how wrong they can be. I once went to a Waterloo conference where an expert on the fight for La Haye Sainte talked us through the day. He included a slide of a painting of the defence (I really wanted to use it but I couldn’t find it) and explained how many of the beliefs we have about the battle (as illustrated in the painting) are wrong. When it came to questions, many of the questioners asked about details of the painting *which they had just been told were wrong*. They weren’t stupid. There is lots of evidence that if I describe a scene and then show a picture and say, for example, “The accident happened here, though, of course, there were no cattle on the road at the time” and later ask people to describe the accident, many will comment that the situation was made more difficult because of the cattle on the road. Paintings are great, but should never be used as historical evidence, unless we know that the painter was there and not under pressure to present a particular image. Portraits are quite good for clothes etc, but people are famously painted as much better looking than they were. And there are some weird ones: there’s an equestrian painting of a character from the Napoleonic Wars (I think it’s Wellington) which was painted when the French were winning and showed a leading French figure. The artist simply painted his face out and painted Wellington’s (I think) in. The body isn’t right at all.
Art works, like all sources (primary and secondary) for historical events, we have to question them and not take them at face value. Ask ourselves who made them and for what purpose. There is usually an agenda. Having said that, I think paintings are useful to illustrate historical articles; they draw readers in and hopefully make them think.
Definitely worth using in historical articles. If you look through my blog, you’ll see I do it all the time.