“Each compartment on this page illustrates a verse from the book of Genesis, beginning with the separation of light from dark and proceeding through the story of Adam and Eve (top right), Noah’s ark – which is depicted as a strange cage-like contraption – the Tower of Babel and the story of Abraham (bottom left).
Each corner of the glorious border decorations features the Beaufort coat of arms, the family who commissioned the work from the Orimina workshop in Naples.
No expense was spared in the production of this unusually large and exquisitely decorated volume; the extensive use of gold leaf and ultramarine blue makes it one of the world’s great illuminated treasures. It was intended as an expression of the Beaufort family’s religious devotion, but also shows their wealth and status.
Pope Clement VI was a Beaufort at the time the papacy was still in Avignon and, following his death, the Bible appears to have made its way back to Rome with his brother, where it stayed in papal hands.
It can be seen open on the table in the famous portrait of Leo X by Raphael, in a demonstration of the pope’s princely power and patronage of the arts.
The Bible was probably bought in the early 19th century by the 10th Duke of Hamilton, an avid collector who – after his marriage to the daughter of fellow bibliophile William Beckford – owned two of the greatest libraries in Britain at the time.
The books and manuscripts passed to his son and then, unfortunately, to his grandson, who appears to have been the polar opposite of the grandfather. The 12th Duke was a reckless gambler and known for his dissolute lifestyle.
When he was 28, a contemporary commentator reported that the duke was ‘learning nothing, hunting five days a week... his betting book is usually a sorry sight on settling day’.
In 1882, to try and pay his debts he sold the entire Hamilton library and 700 volumes were shipped to the Museum of Prints and Drawings in Berlin.
The shipment – the prized asset of which was a set of 88 drawings by Botticelli for Dante’s Divine Comedy – caused considerable disquiet in England at the time. Many people were alarmed by the potential loss of Britain’s heritage, particularly at the hands of a newly unified and increasingly powerful Germany.
But Britain did not have its ducks in a row. It was 20 years before the founding of the National Art Collections Fund (now the Art Fund) and there was little legislation that enabled any intervention.”
Ernst Vegelin van Claerbergen is the head of the Courtauld Gallery, London
Botticelli and Treasures from the Hamilton Collection runs until 15 May
Each corner of the glorious border decorations features the Beaufort coat of arms, the family who commissioned the work from the Orimina workshop in Naples.
No expense was spared in the production of this unusually large and exquisitely decorated volume; the extensive use of gold leaf and ultramarine blue makes it one of the world’s great illuminated treasures. It was intended as an expression of the Beaufort family’s religious devotion, but also shows their wealth and status.
Pope Clement VI was a Beaufort at the time the papacy was still in Avignon and, following his death, the Bible appears to have made its way back to Rome with his brother, where it stayed in papal hands.
It can be seen open on the table in the famous portrait of Leo X by Raphael, in a demonstration of the pope’s princely power and patronage of the arts.
The Bible was probably bought in the early 19th century by the 10th Duke of Hamilton, an avid collector who – after his marriage to the daughter of fellow bibliophile William Beckford – owned two of the greatest libraries in Britain at the time.
The books and manuscripts passed to his son and then, unfortunately, to his grandson, who appears to have been the polar opposite of the grandfather. The 12th Duke was a reckless gambler and known for his dissolute lifestyle.
When he was 28, a contemporary commentator reported that the duke was ‘learning nothing, hunting five days a week... his betting book is usually a sorry sight on settling day’.
In 1882, to try and pay his debts he sold the entire Hamilton library and 700 volumes were shipped to the Museum of Prints and Drawings in Berlin.
The shipment – the prized asset of which was a set of 88 drawings by Botticelli for Dante’s Divine Comedy – caused considerable disquiet in England at the time. Many people were alarmed by the potential loss of Britain’s heritage, particularly at the hands of a newly unified and increasingly powerful Germany.
But Britain did not have its ducks in a row. It was 20 years before the founding of the National Art Collections Fund (now the Art Fund) and there was little legislation that enabled any intervention.”
Ernst Vegelin van Claerbergen is the head of the Courtauld Gallery, London
Botticelli and Treasures from the Hamilton Collection runs until 15 May