Treasures of the Royal Courts: Tudors, Stuarts and the Russian Tsars, Victoria & Albert Museum

Jewels, gold, silver, arms and armour, silks, embroideries, tapestries and lace: the world of the very rich and very powerful royals – and merchants – in Russia and Britain half a millennia ago is set out in glittering array in the V&A’s latest exhibition. The English imported fabulous furs from Russia, delighting in the finest sables, but also wood, hemp and tar, the better to build British ships. The Russians acquired beautifully crafted objects and above all arms, a perennially sought-after commodity which the British were skilled at supplying.

Britain’s Muscovy Company was established in 1555 and continued until 1698, a working commercial model that antedated the much better-known East India Company. Then, as now, relations with Russia were unpredictable, complex, occasionally tempestuous and chilly in more ways than one: visitors complained bitterly of the cold. The exhibition restores some flavour of the old alliance. The audio guide is in English and Russian, while a version of this exuberant display of royal connections and collections was shown at the Kremlin Armoury Museums last year.

The intricacies of the 200-year relationship are placed in the context of the Tudors and the Stuarts, providing a painless history lesson. Did you know (I certainly didn’t) that Ivan IV, the first Tsar, suggested marriage to Elizabeth I, the Virgin Queen? He was, of course, disappointed. Or that in 1649 diplomatic and trading relationships fractured as a result of the Russians’ disgust, shock and horror at the regicide of Charles I, but on both sides the profitable exchanges were resumed at the Restoration?

The most over-the-top extravaganza is a glittering array of exceptionally large and elaborate silver and silver gilt ewers, plates, wine vessels, basins, flasks and dishes, English metalwork masterpieces given to the Russians as part of the cultural diplomacy offensive (pictured above right, Dolphin Basin, 1635). These creations escaped being melted down during the Cromwellian republic, and were defended subversively by their curators, being sold by Stalin or otherwise repudiated during the long Soviet-Russian 20^th century. The result is that the Kremlin possesses the finest collection of 16^th- and 17^th-century English silver and silver gilt in existence, and the vitality of its workmanship and decorative inventiveness remains a marvel. It is almost bewilderingly intricate, a welter of abstract decoration and heraldic symbols often surrounding realistic representations of animals and mythical figures.

The flamboyance continues with the four rampant, rearing early 16^th-century Dacre Beasts: a huge and rather demure fish accompanying a red bull, a black griffin and a white ram, their masculinity much in evidence. They testify to the importance of heraldry, various symbols referring to the powerful Dacre family who commissioned the fantastical quartet. Next is a pair of extraordinary survivors: mutilated but intact stone lions, “Kynge’s Beestes”, whose curled tails may represent some of Anne Boleyn’s heraldry, and who once guarded one of Henry’s palaces. Behind is a display which includes Henry VIII’s armour (pictured left), naturally custom-made, from the Royal Collection: enormous to accommodate his enormity, it’s a real monster. If you saw the King clunking toward you in a horror film, you’d run.  

In 1604 a rare English coach (a recent invention) took from June to October to reach Moscow by sea, road and river as part of the array of gifts, for Tsar Boris Godunov, accompanying the fabulously rich Thomas Smith, the ambassador to Russia. The coach, its wooden panels sumptuously decorated with imperial arms, landscapes, hunting and battle scenes, survives and is still on view in the Kremlin Armoury museum. It would have been drawn by four or six horses, and as it had no springs was probably horribly uncomfortable. A model is on view, and an extensive video tells the tale.