Scotland’s other crown jewels
November 2008
These richly-carved medallions adorned the ceiling of the King’s Hall at Stirling Castle in the 16th century.
by Matthew Shelley
Next on woodcarver John Donaldson’s ‘to carve’ list is a yard-wide figure of a medieval jester clutching one buttock and sticking out his tongue. It is among the last, and most intriguing, of a huge commission to create a complete replica set of the world-famous Stirling Heads.
The original carvings – a mix of noble, classical and mythological characters – are some of the country’s greatest surviving examples of Renaissance craftsmanship, so much so they are sometimes referred to as Scotland’s other crown jewels.
Back in the mid-16th century many of them adorned the ceiling of the King’s Inner Hall – one of the most important rooms in the luxurious palace King James V had built at Stirling Castle to impress his French bride, Mary de Guise. Donaldson’s new carvings will be used to recreate the ceiling of the large chamber, as part of a £12 million project by Historic Scotland to return the royal apartments to how they may have originally looked.
The heads are richly carved medallions depicting a wonderful array of figures which have been interpreted as kings, queens and courtiers as well as classical and mythological figures and putti – or imps.
One of the big questions is whether they were purely decorative or carried specific meanings. There is a theory that the jester was a warning, positioned as the first to catch a subject’s eye when they came before the monarch to ask favours or make complaints. The message would have been to watch your mouth or expect a sharp kick.
In the past there have also been suggestions that one of the carvings was of King James. But Donaldson has doubts, and he is able to view the work in much the same way as the original carvers.
“There is one people have said might be a portrait of the king himself. I’m not so sure. He has a broken-looking nose – a beak like a pugilist. And it’s not the best piece of carving in the group, which seems at odds with the stature of the subject.
“I just think, if you have the job of carving the king’s portrait you’d surely use your best carver and do your best work – but that’s a 21st century opinion.”
Filling the extra spaces
A former PE teacher who lives a few miles from the castle, Donaldson became a professional woodcarver in 1991 and has been involved with some high profile arts projects.
The Stirling Heads project has, been keeping him occupied for much of the past five years. Early in 2009 it will reach a fascinating stage when he will stop copying and have the chance to create the last two from his own imagination and experience. These will fill extra spaces on the ceiling where there is no remaining original.
It will be a remarkable moment when they are revealed and as yet neither Historic Scotland nor the craftsman himself know what they will look like.
Whatever he comes up with will have to be fit for a queen. James V, born in 1512 and made king the following year, died as a young man in December 1542, just a few days after the birth of his daughter Mary. As the order for the palace to be built was only given in 1538 there is no telling whether he saw the Stirling Heads in place.
The infant queen, however, spent much of her first few years at Stirling – which was safer than Edinburgh, with less chance of a cross-border kidnapping raid by the English. It is intriguing to wonder what impression these striking faces made on the little girl staring up at them.
Her mother, Mary de Guise, eventually became regent and ruled Scotland in her own right until her death in 1560. She, too, would have been very familiar with the roundels her ill-fated husband had intended as decorations for their most comfortable and modern apartments.
Stirling remained a favourite royal residence after Mary, Queen of Scots returned from France in 1561 for a few turbulent years before taking flight to England where she was imprisoned and eventually executed.
Court fashion in the days when the palace was first built was for furnishings and fittings to be as sumptuous and colourful as possible. The heads themselves would have been painted rather than plain and Historic Scotland will be hiring an artist to work on the replica set.
Thirty-three heads have survived to the present day after being removed from the palace ceiling in 1777. By that time the castle had lost its status as a royal residence and become a barracks.
How many there were in the first place is unknown, and it may be that they were used in more than one room. Some are said to have ended up in a bread oven. Many were distributed among private owners all round Scotland, with two being destroyed in a fire at Dunstaffnage Castle in 1940.
Naked dancing imp
Fortunately all was not lost. In the early 19th century a talented amateur artist, Jane Graham, travelled the country and made sketches of all but one of the heads which were then published in a little book called the Lacunar Strevelinense. Thanks to this, the lost couple can be recreated.
A delight of the book is that there are a few little differences from the real thing – after all the readers of 1817 were easily shocked. One roundel shows a naked dancing imp, but Mrs Graham’s version has a veil drawn discretely across his nether regions. And when it came to the figure of a bare-breasted woman, poor Mrs Graham could not bring herself to draw anything at all!
In the 1970s the collection came back into public control, but it is only now that plans are in hand to return them to their original home. Historic Scotland is creating a Renaissance Gallery on the first floor of the palace so the originals can go on permanent public display. This will allow an estimated 480,000 castle visitors a year to admire them close-up, from 2011.
Next to nothing is known about the original carvers, but it is thought that one was French and two Scottish. It is unlikely that they could have imagined their work would be revered as a national treasure 500 years on.
Matthew Shelley is a freelance journalist and communications consultant who has worked with Historic Scotland for the past six years. He was previously Glasgow news editor of the Scotsman , which he left to study for a (nearly completed) PhD in underwater archaeology. He lives with his wife Jennifer, and greyhound in rural Perthshire.
This is an article from the November 2008 edition of Leopard Magazine. To read much more like this every month, see our subscription details.