HistoryExtra Home of Britain’s bestselling history magazine and award-winning podcast 2026-10-09T13:38:27.000Z https://www.historyextra.com/topic/art-history/feed/atom York Membery <![CDATA["She made an impact without being sexually attractive": why this Renaissance fashionista is my history hero]]> https://www.historyextra.com/membership/she-made-an-impact-without-being-sexually-attractive-why-this-renaissance-fashionista-is-my-history-hero/ 2026-10-09T13:38:27.000Z 2026-10-09T14:00:12.000Z In profile

Isabella d’Este was the Marchioness of Mantua, a wealthy city-state, during the Italian Renaissance. A patron of the arts, she owned works by Michelangelo, while Leonardo da Vinci sketched her. After the death of her husband, Francesco II Gonzaga, she ruled Mantua as regent for her son, Federico II, and played an important role in Italian politics. The mother of eight children, six of whom survived, she died aged 64.

When did you first hear about Isabella?

I came across her when I was writing about the Borgia family a decade or so ago and she emerged as the sister-in-law from hell to Lucrezia Borgia.

Isabella was a bit of a snob and looked down upon Lucrezia as an illegitimate parvenu. But the more I learnt about this opinionated, clever, strong-willed woman [Isabella], who became the foremost female art collector of her age, the more she fascinated me.

What kind of woman was she?

She was smart, confident, well-born and grew up in a household where art was important. She became a collector herself – many of the great artists of the age would work for her. She was also musical, educated and fluent in Latin. At the age of six, she could recite prose by Cicero and poetry by Virgil from memory. Her father clearly adored her, which was unusual for the time, because men invariably wanted a son.

Something about her personality – she was a bit of a show-off but also brave – attracted people. She was never a great beauty, but she made the best of her looks and became a bit of an Anna Wintour-style fashionista-influencer. There are some notable similarities between the Mona Lisa and da Vinci’s earlier sketches of Isabella!

What made her a hero?

Firstly, the fact that she made such an impact as a woman without being sexually attractive or dangerous, which was unusual in her era. Secondly, the way she achieved her goal of creating her own art collection. She even built a study where she could sit and gaze at her artworks, in a sense ‘a room of her own’. The idea of a woman having such a space back then was outrageous – only men were supposed to enjoy such things – so she had to grow a thick skin to counter criticism. And thirdly, her leadership skills.

What was Isabella’s finest hour?

Successfully ruling Mantua when her husband was in prison. A female ruler without a husband at that time was vulnerable, but she negotiated his release and protected her city-state’s independence. Also, she not only survived the Sack of Rome in 1527 but even gave sanctuary to a number of nobles and diplomats, saving many.

Is there anything that you don’t particularly admire about her?

I have to admit she could be bloody-minded and at times behave badly to get what she wanted.

Can you see any parallels between her life and your own?

Hmm. She speaks a lot better Latin than I ever did. I’ve sadly forgotten all I learnt at school. Although like her, I’ve also had to deal with a few bolshie men in my time. What woman hasn’t?

What would you ask Isabella if you could meet her?

Which bloody cupboard did you put Michelangelo’s now-lost Sleeping Cupid sculpture in? I want to put it on my mantelpiece!

Sarah Dunant is a novelist, broadcaster, critic and a former presenter of BBC Two’s The Late Show. Her latest novel, The Marchesa (Ravenna Press), is out in paperback now

This article was first published in the October 2026 issue of HistoryExtra Magazine

]]> Emily Briffett <![CDATA[WW2's bloody battle for Arakan]]> https://www.historyextra.com/membership/ww2s-bloody-battle-for-arakan/ 2026-09-30T10:36:04.000Z 2026-09-30T10:35:26.000Z In 1944, the Allies unleashed an offensive in Burma – a brutal campaign spearheaded by 3 Commando Brigade alongside the Indian and West African troops of XV Corps. Against a ruthless enemy and in one of the world’s most unforgiving environments, these men launched daring amphibious assaults deep into Japanese-held territory, turning the tide of the Burma campaign and delivering a devastating blow to the Imperial Japanese Army.

Military historian Lucy Betteridge-Dyson has written a book on the subject, Jungle Commandoes, and Emily Briffett spoke to her to find out more.

]]> Dr David Musgrove, FSA <![CDATA[The Bayeux Tapestry: secrets of the stitchers]]> https://www.historyextra.com/membership/the-bayeux-tapestry-secrets-of-the-stitchers/ 2026-09-30T11:28:31.000Z 2026-09-29T11:27:07.000Z Mia Hansson has spent 10 years making an exact replica of the Bayeux Tapestry. In conversation with Dave Musgrove, she explains what her modern remake experience can teach us about the women who made the original artefact in the 11th century, and the secrets she has spotted in her decade of close attention to the embroidery

]]> Dr David Musgrove, FSA <![CDATA[Politically embarrassing to politically powerful: how the Bayeux Tapestry became a tool of diplomacy]]> https://www.historyextra.com/period/medieval/bayeux-tapestry-exhibition-burnham-macron-diplomacy/ 2026-09-08T16:07:49.000Z 2026-09-08T16:07:49.000Z Britain’s new prime minister Andy Burnham made a droll observation at the British Museum, during the speeches to commemorate the visit of King Charles III and President Emmanuel Macron to the Bayeux Tapestry exhibition on Wednesday 2 September. But it didn’t really make sense.

He talked about how the Tapestry shows “a new leader emerging from a northern territory travelling to the south of England in search of the crown. Clearly something that couldn’t happen today”.

Obviously, he was drawing a knowingly self-deprecating comparison to his own recent journey to power, though I’m not sure who he was actually comparing himself to. Presumably he was thinking of William the Conqueror, though Normandy is to the south of England, so the northern territory he’s thinking of is, I guess, an acknowledgment of the Scandinavian origins of the Normans (the foundation story of Normandy, of course, goes back to the year 911 and Rollo, a Norse warlord, being granted the duchy from the king of France). If that’s the case, our new prime minister is well-informed about northern European early medieval history, so that’s great to hear.

However, what he overlooked was the fact that the Tapestry pointedly omits an actual northern leader invading in 1066, but failing in his bid to secure the crown. The Norwegian king Harald Hardrada led a force into Yorkshire, along with Tostig, the disaffected brother of England’s King Harold.

Hardrada won one battle against the Anglo-Saxons, at Fulford, but then was soundly defeated in a second clash, at Stamford Bridge, by King Harold himself. Both Hardrada and Tostig died on the field, along with a huge number of their men, so much so that the river ran red with their blood. Neither Fulford nor Stamford Bridge is shown in the embroidery.

A very selective history

We tend to think that the Bayeux Tapestry gives a full account of the events of 1066. It is, after all, almost 70 metres long, so has ample space to cover the details. However, that’s clearly not the case, as its exclusion of these two northern battles shows. That is because it’s designed with a very specific political purpose in mind – namely to offer a justification for William’s invasion of England.

The Tapestry sets up the story of 1066 as a binary clash between Harold and William, with Harold perjuring himself after making a sacred oath to support William’s claim to the throne, and thus giving William the reason he needed to launch his invasion fleet. Including any other possible contenders to the throne, such as Hardrada or indeed Edgar Ætheling (the closest blood relative to the previous king, Edward the Confessor), would have muddied the picture that the Tapestry was presenting.

King Charles III, Emmanuel Macron and Andy Burnham examine the Bayeux Tapestry displayed in a glass case. The three men stand alongside the medieval embroidery, with the King leaning forward to inspect its scenes.

So it’s always had this political dimension, and clearly the current story of the loan has a political dimension too. President Macron has been the driving force behind making it happen. It required, in his words, a “willing suspension of disbelief” to get it done, in the face of substantial concern about the wisdom of allowing such a venerable and fragile artefact to travel across the Channel.

It’s fascinating, then, to see current politics play out with the Tapestry as the backdrop. The loan is part of a coming-together of Anglo-French relations in the aftermath of Brexit, and an effort to salve the wounds after the bitter recriminations it produced on both sides of the Channel.

Bringing enemies together

Would the original Tapestry designers have imagined it might have brought people in Britain and France together almost a millennium after they made it? I doubt it, but there is a theory that the embroidery’s original intent was to allow a space for both the vanquished and the victors of 1066 to come together and find common ground after the battle. It might have been part of an effort by Duke William and one of his leading lords, Odo of Bayeux (William’s half-brother and the most likely candidate to have been the Tapestry’s patron), to get the Anglo-Saxons on side in the new Norman regime.

The deliberate vagueness of the Tapestry’s narrative – and its very terse Latin captions – allows for multiple interpretations of the same scenes, depending on how the viewer wants to see what’s shown. England’s Harold gets a pretty positive portrayal in the first half of the Tapestry, at least (before he makes his fateful oath), so there is a world in which you can imagine military men from both sides of the conflict assembling inside some Norman keep to look at the Tapestry and reflect together on what they’ve been through, but with space for all to remember what happened slightly differently.

A scene from the Bayeux Tapestry shows Harold Godwinson seated on a throne after being crowned king of England in 1066. Archbishop Stigand stands beside him, while figures to the left acclaim the new king.

If Brexit has taught us anything, it’s that you need to fudge things to get through challenging and complex relationships, and the Tapestry offers a masterclass in fudgery. How else could people move on from the massive social dislocation that resulted from Hastings, if not by skirting around some of the issues and allowing recollections to vary of what had just happened?

Past its sell-by date

There was only a brief window of time in which William was interested in bringing together the defeated and the winners. It probably wasn’t long before he had become less interested in justifying why he was right to depose Harold, and more interested in dealing with the aftermath of his actions.

The Norman Conquest was not a one-and-done thing (even though the Bayeux Tapestry might have us believe that), and there were numerous rebellions against Norman rule by the restless Anglo-Saxons. After a brief period of trying to accommodate and understand, by the end of the 1060s, William was laying down a very heavy hand on his new subjects. The Harrying of the North was the ultimate response, and the campaign of destruction wrought on northern England in 1069 and 1070 left the area devastated for years.

So it’s quite possible that the Tapestry was politically obsolete as soon as it was finished. We don’t know how long it took to make, but if we consider that the Ladies of the Leek Embroidery Society spent a year or so on their replica version in the 1880s (and they had a design to work off and weren’t operating in a war-torn environment), then it surely can’t have been any faster for the original embroiderers.

That replica is now on show in Reading Museum, and is worth a visit if you can’t get to the British Museum (or do both in a day with a quick trip along the Elizabeth Line). If the stitching work started as early as 1067, by the time it was finished, the situation on the ground might well have moved on markedly, and perhaps the Tapestry was politically redundant as the last panels were being embroidered.

A conservator wearing protective gloves works on the Bayeux Tapestry as it is suspended from a metal frame. Scenes from the medieval embroidery, including figures and ships, are visible beneath her.

That might explain why the Tapestry has survived today. Maybe it was just quietly put in a chest and forgotten about, because it wasn’t hitting the right vibe in the fast-moving world of Anglo-Norman relations. It could have been quietly shipped off to Bayeux straight away, put in the corner of some quiet room, and largely forgotten about for the next few centuries.

I was asked to commentate for BBC News and Sky on the visit of King Charles and President Macron as they toured the Tapestry. I’ve never tried my hand at punditry, but it was fascinating to listen in on the chat that the two heads of state had as they walked down the line.

The king cracked a gag about the French bringing wine with them on their invasion fleet, and the president nodded appreciatively. I did wonder whether this would have been the sort of chat expected from Anglo-Saxon earls and Norman lords in the 1060s, too, as they studied the embroidery.

But if this sort of bonhomie was intended in the 11th century, perhaps it never happened if the Tapestry was indeed past its sell-by date as soon as it was finished. I was a little disappointed that none of the dignitaries seemed to make reference to the graphic sex scenes in the Tapestry, as I’m sure that the post-Hastings viewers would have acknowledged the various nude vignettes.

View Green Video on the source website

Anyway, in the speeches after the tour, much was made by both sides of how the Tapestry is a symbol of the long and durable Anglo-French relationship. It undoubtedly is that, so it was fascinating to think about how the original conflict story might have been designed to encourage comradeship too – but a comradeship that didn’t come to pass.

Macron’s masterstroke

President Macron is clearly a wily political operator. He’s been in place in the Élysée Palace for the entire story of the Bayeux Tapestry loan. He announced it back in 2018, and he’s outlived a succession of British prime ministers. He’s rightly recognised that the Tapestry means a lot more to us here in the UK than it does to much of France.

I’ve been asked by a few perplexed French journalists to explain why we’re getting so excited about the Tapestry coming here, because if they were asked to pick a key date in their national story, the people of France would, I’m sure, plump for 1789 over 1066. William of Normandy is a peripheral figure in the French historical narrative.

Emmanuel Macron delivers a speech from a lectern promoting the Bayeux Tapestry exhibition, surrounded by French, British and European Union flags. An image from the medieval embroidery appears on the front of the lectern.

So Macron has clocked that this means a lot to us, and he’s expended a bit of his own political capital in making the loan happen – the “willing suspension of disbelief” that he talked about is surely code for having to deal with a lot of objections on his side of the Channel. But he’s done it with purpose because he has seen the soft power of this artefact, and the diplomatic win he’s got from it is surely going to give him leverage in moving forward with a more productive Anglo-French relationship.

So, if the Tapestry’s miraculous survival today is in part due to it being politically embarrassing in the 11th century, it’s all the more interesting that it’s being used as a tool to get over recent political embarrassments in the 21st century. More power to the Tapestry.

]]> Danny Bird <![CDATA[Frida Kahlo: life of the week]]> https://www.historyextra.com/membership/frida-kahlo-life-of-the-week/ 2026-08-25T10:17:24.000Z 2026-08-25T10:17:24.000Z The arresting gaze, the stark monobrow, the intricate ribbons woven through the dark hair – Frida Kahlo's unmistakable image is recognised around the world today. Yet the woman behind the vivid self-portraits was far more complex than the icon she became.

In conversation with Danny Bird, historian Patience Schell explores how trauma, politics and extraordinary artistic vision transformed Kahlo into one of the most influential cultural figures of the modern age.

]]> Dr David Musgrove, FSA <![CDATA[I correctly predicted that the Bayeux Tapestry would come home. But is football coming home too?]]> https://www.historyextra.com/period/medieval/bayeux-tapestry-exhibition-football-come-home/ 2026-09-08T18:31:57.000Z 2026-07-10T16:07:05.000Z So the Bayeux Tapestry has come home. In the quietest point of the night of 9/10 July (and a hot, sweltering night at that), a lorry rolled into the cargo bay of the British Museum. Inside, in its special vibration-damping box, was the Bayeux Tapestry.

It had made its journey from Normandy, through the Channel Tunnel, and up into London with a police escort. Now it will be allowed to rest and acclimatise to its new surroundings for a few days before the hard work starts of getting it into its temporary display ready for the start of the exhibition on 10 September.

Perhaps this is the first time that the venerable embroidery has been on this side of the Channel since it was created some 950 years ago. The lorry probably passed quite close to where most experts think it was most likely made, in Canterbury in Kent.

To mark the moment, the British Museum arranged to have an incredible image of some of the sailing scenes from the Tapestry projected onto the White Cliffs of Dover, with a huge “Merci!” inscribed alongside.

Eighteen years in the making

I’ve been following the story of the loan of the Tapestry for years, dating back to 2008 when I wrote an article for BBC History Magazine (now HistoryExtra Magazine) interviewing a panel of experts about the theory that the Tapestry was made in England. In that article, I raised the idea that maybe one day the Tapestry could come home.

Some of the scholars were against the idea, but one – Michael Lewis – was keen. He told me then: “I think it would be lovely to see it in this country… If the Tapestry was returned, it would be possible to display it along with the works that it was influenced by – that would be a fabulous exhibition – to have the Tapestry displayed with the primary sources as far as we can ascertain them.”

French ambassador to the United Kingdom Hélène Tréheux-Duchêne stands beside British Museum director Nicholas Cullinan in front of the open, climate-controlled lorry used to transport the Bayeux Tapestry after its arrival at the British Museum. Members of the media and museum staff gather nearby as the unloading operation begins at night.

Ten years later, in 2018, when President Macron announced that the loan was actually going to happen, I leapt into action and co-wrote a book, with Michael Lewis, all about the Tapestry (it’s called The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry). My co-author is now the curator of the British Museum’s exhibition, and I know he has been working hard over the years to make this amazing moment a reality.

From rivals to partners

What is striking is the level of cooperation between the French and British conservation and curation teams, typified by that grateful projection on the White Cliffs. Yes, there have been voices raised against the loan, questioning the sense of moving such a fragile object, but it’s clear that the teams involved have been working hand-in-glove to make sure the embroidery was moved safely and securely.

This is a contrast to the five previous efforts to get a loan of the Tapestry in the 20th century, when it wasn’t always clear who the UK negotiators should be talking to in order to strike a deal. Earlier this year, I interviewed Britain’s Envoy for the Bayeux Tapestry loan, Lord Peter Ricketts, and he noted that, “Both sides, of course, are equally attached to ensuring the preservation and the protection of this incredibly fragile and precious object.”

I’ve spoken to some of the political figures involved in the discussions about the loan and they have been clear that the driving force behind this project was France’s President Macron. UK prime ministers have come and gone, but Macron has been constant ever since 2018. I see that he has written an op-ed in The Times this morning. He says, “This loan from France means much more than simply moving an artwork: it is a gesture of trust, a tangible expression of a long-standing friendship and a sign of our shared desire to see France and the UK build their future together.”

So, this is going to be a huge cultural moment for both countries – a generational experience that will cause interest in medieval history to blossom. Tickets have already sold out for the first few months of the exhibition. Excitement is at fever pitch about this most famous of artworks finally coming home.

A prophecy in thread?

One other item that people in England hope is coming home this summer is the football World Cup. I have mused, in a social media video, that the Tapestry’s narrative mirrors England’s path to soccer glory in the US. Its pointed omission of the battle of Stamford Bridge suggests that England will beat Norway without any fuss on Saturday night, while the Tapestry’s Hand of God ripping through the sky over Westminster Abbey and the funeral of Edward the Confessor surely predicts the righting of the wrong of Maradona’s handball from 1986 in a likely Argentina semi-final. And then of course we come to the battle of Hastings.

A darkened concept visualisation of the Bayeux Tapestry exhibition, showing visitors walking alongside the embroidery as it is displayed flat in a long illuminated showcase. The gallery space is designed to emphasise the tapestry’s extraordinary length, with projected illustrations and text lining the walls above the display.

You might think that the Norman victory over the English suggests a French success in the final, and that would accord with most pundits’ views that France are the team to beat in this World Cup. Yet I simply note that the Tapestry, as we see it today, is unfinished, with the English flight from the field dissolving into a ragged mess. Maybe, just maybe, the Tapestry’s damaged state is a pointer that the story doesn’t end quite as you might expect.

Given that in 2008, I predicted that the Tapestry would come home, maybe you should trust me that football is going to follow this year too. That might blow apart the spirit of bonhomie between the Tapestry community on both sides of the Channel, so maybe it’s lucky that the transport has already taken place. It’s coming home, both ways.

]]> Danny Bird <![CDATA[Pablo Picasso: life of the week]]> https://www.historyextra.com/membership/pablo-picasso-life-of-the-week/ 2026-07-07T07:59:04.000Z 2026-07-07T07:58:22.000Z From his birth in 1881 to his death in 1973, Pablo Picasso lived a life as revolutionary as his art. A child prodigy who transformed modern art, his story is one of genius, reinvention, scandal and relentless creativity. In this episode, Danny Bird speaks to Sue Roe about the passions and upheavals that shaped the pioneer behind Cubism and masterpieces such as Guernica.

They explore Picasso’s rise from the bohemian streets of Paris to global fame, his turbulent relationships with the women who inspired his work, and the restless imagination that defined him until the very end.

Find out more about Picasso’s masterpiece Guernica, the Spanish Civil War and the history behind the atrocity that inspired him to paint it.

]]> Elinor Evans <![CDATA[The real history behind your favourite William Morris designs]]> https://www.historyextra.com/membership/history-behind-william-morris-designs-video/ 2026-06-12T08:18:04.000Z 2026-06-12T08:17:29.000Z At a time in the 19th century when factories were reshaping society, William Morris and his contemporaries believed mass production was damaging not only the lives of workers, but also the beauty and meaning of everyday objects.

HistoryExtra's Elinor Evans shares the hidden meaning behind some of the prints, including Strawberry Thief, many of which remain popular today.

You'll hear excerpts from a HistoryExtra podcast interview with author and curator Dr Suzanne Fagence Cooper, who has written extensively on the Pre-Raphaelites and Victorian women, and William and Jane Morris – her books include How We Might Live: At Home with Jane and William Morris (Quercus, 2022).

View Green Video on the source website]]> Charlotte Vosper <![CDATA[The man who saved D-Day: the real history behind Pressure]]> https://www.historyextra.com/membership/the-man-who-saved-d-day-the-real-history-behind-pressure/ 2026-05-27T10:24:23.000Z 2026-05-29T08:20:07.000Z New film Pressure, starring Andrew Scott, Brendan Fraser and Kerry Condon, is set to arrive in US cinemas on 29 May 2026 and is released in the UK on 9 September 2026.

It tells the story of a crucial decision in WW2, one that could have changed the outcome of the conflict: the date the Allies' invasion of Normandy, known as D-Day.

In this video, HistoryExtra's Charlotte Vosper explores the real history, travelling to the UK Met Office to get closer to some of the original sources. You'll see a personal diary from Group Captain James Stagg, the meteorologist (played in the film by Andrew Scott) who was tasked with providing crucial weather charts that helped make the final decision.

What were the other factors playing into Dwight D Eisenhower's decision-making? What was Exercise Tiger in the preparations for D-Day, and why did it go so wrong? And why didn't the Germans see the invasion coming? Hear more in this explanation of the real events, and how they translate into the high-stakes action on screen in Pressure, written for the screen by David Haig and Anthony Maras.

View Green Video on the source website ]]> Rob Attar <![CDATA[Johannes Vermeer: life of the week]]> https://www.historyextra.com/membership/johannes-vermeer-life-of-the-week-podcast/ 2026-05-12T14:09:27.000Z 2026-04-28T08:53:47.000Z Johannes Vermeer is now regarded as one of the leading lights of the Dutch Golden Age, and indeed one of the greatest artists of all time. But in his own lifetime he was hardly known outside his own circle, and made so little money that he could barely afford to feed his large family.

In this episode of the HistoryExtra podcast, Andrew Graham-Dixon, author of a new biography of Vermeer, chronicles the artist’s life – and argues that to fully understand the man and his work, we need to explore the religious milieu of the Dutch Republic in the 17th century. He was joined in conversation by Rob Attar.

]]>