The Courtauld Brothers: A Tail of Two Art Collections

Samuel Courtauld, born in 1876, was seven years older than Stephen and became chairman of the family textile company in 1921. By then, the business was generating enormous profits, giving him the means to pursue what would become his great passion: collecting art.

What is remarkable is that Samuel did not begin collecting seriously until he was in his forties. And when he did, he developed a particular fascination with French Impressionist and Post-Impressionist painting.

Today, artists such as Monet, Renoir, Cézanne, and Van Gogh are among the most beloved painters in the world. Their works attract enormous crowds and command astonishing prices.

But in Britain during the 1920s, the artistic establishment was still rather suspicious of these French painters. Many considered their work too modern, too experimental, and certainly not worthy of a place alongside the Old Masters in the National Gallery.

Samuel thought otherwise.

Encouraged in part by the influential art critic Roger Fry, he began acquiring paintings by these artists, often purchasing works that were not particularly fashionable among British collectors. And what paintings he bought!

Among the treasures that eventually formed the foundation of the Courtauld Gallery were Manet’s A Bar at the Folies-Bergère, Van Gogh’s Self-Portrait with Bandaged Ear, and Cézanne’s The Card Players. Add to those masterpieces by Renoir, Gauguin, Monet, and Seurat, and you have one of the most extraordinary private collections of French painting assembled in Britain.

What makes Samuel’s story particularly appealing is that he did not want these paintings to remain hidden away in his private home.

In 1923, he established the Courtauld Fund, providing money to the National Gallery to purchase Impressionist and Post-Impressionist paintings for the British public. This was a genuinely transformative gift, helping the Gallery acquire works by artists who had previously been largely absent from the national collection.

Among the paintings acquired through the fund were Seurat’s monumental Bathers at Asnières and Van Gogh’s A Wheatfield, with Cypresses. Imagine that! At a time when many British art experts still regarded these painters with skepticism, a textile millionaire was helping to ensure that their masterpieces would belong to the nation.

But Samuel’s ambitions went beyond simply collecting and displaying art.

He believed that art history deserved to be studied as a serious academic discipline, something that was hardly universally accepted in Britain at the time.

In 1932, working with two other major figures in the art world, Viscount Lee of Fareham and Sir Robert Witt, he helped establish the Courtauld Institute of Art as part of the University of London.

He donated much of his own collection, along with his magnificent London home, Home House in Portman Square, to help establish the new institution. Following his death in 1947, additional works from his collection passed to the Institute.

Today, the Courtauld Institute is internationally respected for its scholarship in art history, conservation, and curating. Its gallery, now housed in Somerset House overlooking the Thames, remains one of London’s great cultural treasures.

I have always thought that the Courtauld Gallery is one of those wonderful London museums that visitors sometimes overlook in favor of the much larger National Gallery or Tate Britain. Yet its relatively intimate scale makes it a particularly rewarding place to spend an afternoon.

And to think that its origins can be traced to a fortune made manufacturing artificial silk!

Stephen Courtauld: A Different Kind of Collector

Meanwhile, Stephen Courtauld was pursuing his own artistic interests, although in a somewhat different direction.

While Samuel concentrated on French Impressionism, Stephen developed a passion for Old Masters, British painting, Renaissance art, ceramics, and decorative arts.

His collection was substantial. At Eltham Palace alone, the library once contained thirteen paintings by J.M.W. Turner. The Italian Drawing Room displayed Renaissance paintings and an impressive collection of Italian maiolica pottery.

Stephen and Virginia also supported contemporary artists, commissioning works and developing friendships with painters whose work they admired. The couple clearly believed that art was something to live with and enjoy, rather than simply acquire and store away.

And this brings me to the mystery that emerged as I researched the two brothers.

Samuel’s collection is meticulously documented, internationally celebrated, and visited by thousands of people each year.

But what happened to Stephen’s?

As I wandered through Eltham Palace, I noticed that although the interiors have been beautifully restored, much of the original artwork was missing. Some pieces have returned, and others are represented by reproductions or carefully chosen substitutes.

Yet here was a man who had assembled a collection of considerable importance, and I could find surprisingly little about where it had all ended up.

Surely it had not simply disappeared?

Well, the answer takes us to one of the more unexpected chapters in the Courtauld family story.

From London to Zimbabwe: A Second Extraordinary Home

After leaving Eltham Palace in 1944, Stephen and Virginia spent several years on the west coast of Scotland.

But the couple, who had traveled extensively throughout their lives, apparently had little interest in settling into a conventional English retirement.

In 1951, they moved to Southern Rhodesia, the British colony that is today Zimbabwe.

They purchased land in the beautiful Imbeza Valley near Penhalonga, not far from the city of Mutare, in the mountainous eastern part of the country.

There they created another extraordinary home called La Rochelle, named for the French city associated with the Courtauld family’s Huguenot origins.

And once again, they did nothing by halves.

The house was designed in the style of a French château, surrounded by extensive landscaped grounds and gardens. Its interiors incorporated the couple’s art, antiques, and furniture, much of which had accompanied them from England.

The gardens became particularly famous. Working with horticultural experts, they established an extraordinary botanical collection, including rare orchids, exotic trees, ponds, and carefully designed garden rooms.

There is a rather lovely continuity between Eltham and La Rochelle. Both homes had swimming pools, elaborate gardens, and rooms designed for entertaining. The couple even brought John Mitchell, their former head gardener at Eltham, to Africa to help establish the new landscape.

And here is one of my favorite quirky details. At La Rochelle, distinguished guests were invited to scratch their signatures into the windowpanes using a diamond-tipped stylus. Researchers have since identified nearly 900 signatures, creating a rather unusual guest book that includes artists, politicians, aristocrats, and African nationalist leaders.

Virginia, who was apparently a woman of considerable personality, also had a snake tattoo on her leg, something that must have raised a few eyebrows in the rather conservative social circles of colonial Rhodesia.

But the Courtaulds were hardly typical colonial settlers.

Both were outspoken opponents of racial segregation and supported organizations advocating a more inclusive, multiracial society. Their views were not always popular among the white establishment.

Their home became a gathering place for people from very different political and social backgrounds, including African nationalist leaders. There are even accounts connecting discussions at La Rochelle with the early development of Zimbabwe’s independence movement.

Stephen and Virginia also became enormously generous benefactors of their adopted country.

They supported schools, cultural institutions, and educational programs. Stephen helped finance a theater and civic facilities in Mutare, while the couple contributed to projects intended to benefit Black Africans as well as white settlers.

They supported music education, donated a Stradivarius violin and other valuable materials to musical institutions, and helped establish educational opportunities for young people.

But perhaps Stephen’s greatest cultural contribution was his involvement in establishing the Rhodes National Gallery, now the National Gallery of Zimbabwe, in Harare.

He became chairman of its board of trustees, helped finance its construction, and provided a substantial endowment. The gallery opened in 1957, and Stephen remained closely involved in its development.

In recognition of his philanthropy, he was knighted in 1958.

Stephen died in Zimbabwe in 1967. Virginia remained at La Rochelle for several more years before moving to Jersey, where she died in 1972.

The estate was eventually donated to the National Trust of Zimbabwe and survives today as a historic property and garden.

In a sense, La Rochelle became the couple’s second Eltham Palace, another remarkable house created through a combination of wealth, imagination, and an appreciation for beautiful things.

The Mystery of the Missing Art Collection

And now we come to what I found to be the most intriguing, and somewhat sad, part of the story.

Stephen and Virginia left a significant collection of artwork to the National Gallery of Zimbabwe.

Accounts identify 93 works, including paintings attributed to or associated with such major artists as Rembrandt, Goya, Hogarth, and Pissarro. Their collection also included works by Renoir and other European masters.

One might imagine that such a collection would be prominently displayed, perhaps even in a special gallery bearing the Courtauld name.

But apparently not.

For many years, much of the collection has remained largely out of public view.

As I dug deeper, I discovered that I was hardly the first person to wonder what had happened to these paintings.

In fact, a researcher associated with the Courtauld Institute investigated the collection after hearing rumors of a supposedly secret Monet hidden in the vaults of the National Gallery of Zimbabwe.

The story sounds almost like the beginning of an art detective novel.

The researcher traveled to Harare and was eventually allowed to see a portion of the collection. There was no Monet, at least among the paintings examined, but there were works by Renoir and other important artists.

The researcher was not given access to the entire collection.

So why are these paintings not on display? The answer appears to be a combination of circumstances, although the full story remains difficult to establish.

Zimbabwe has experienced decades of political turmoil, economic instability, and severe financial pressures on its cultural institutions. Maintaining a collection of valuable European paintings requires appropriate security, climate control, conservation expertise, and considerable financial resources.

There have also been concerns over the years about the security of valuable artworks during periods of political instability, particularly under the long rule of Robert Mugabe. And, of course, the National Gallery of Zimbabwe has its own important mission: preserving and promoting Zimbabwean and African art. Its collections include extraordinary works by African artists, particularly the stone sculpture for which Zimbabwe has become internationally known.

One can certainly understand why a museum with limited resources might choose to devote its exhibition space and funding to its own country’s artistic heritage rather than a collection of European Old Masters.

Still, the fate of the Courtauld paintings remains rather elusive.

There are reports that many have been kept in secure storage, and researchers have confirmed the presence of at least some important works. But a complete, publicly accessible accounting of the collection and its current condition has proved difficult to find.

I should emphasize that there is a difference between paintings being missing and paintings simply not being on public display. I found no convincing evidence that the entire collection has vanished. Rather, it seems to have become one of those collections whose treasures are known to exist but are rarely seen.

And perhaps that is what makes the story so frustrating.

Here was a man who devoted enormous energy and wealth to establishing a national art museum, only for much of his own remarkable collection to become largely inaccessible to the public.

Two Brothers, Two Collections, Two Very Different Legacies

What strikes me most about the story of Samuel and Stephen Courtauld is how two brothers, born into the same wealthy industrial family, developed such different approaches to art and philanthropy.

Samuel was the great collector and institution builder, a man who helped change British attitudes toward modern French painting and established an academic institution that continues to influence the study of art throughout the world.

Stephen was perhaps more adventurous, a man who loved beautiful houses, gardens, travel, and the arts, and who eventually devoted much of his fortune to improving the cultural and educational life of a country far from his birthplace.

Both believed that great wealth brought with it an obligation to contribute to society.

And both left legacies that extended well beyond their lifetimes.

Yet the contrast between their two art collections is striking.

Samuel’s paintings are among the most celebrated in Britain, beautifully displayed at Somerset House and the National Gallery, studied by scholars, and enjoyed by visitors from around the world.

Stephen’s collection, meanwhile, has had a far more uncertain fate, with many of its treasures apparently remaining in storage thousands of miles away.

There is something rather ironic, and a bit sad, about that.

But perhaps the consolation is Eltham Palace itself.

Although Stephen and Virginia lived there for barely a decade, the extraordinary home they created has survived, been restored, and is now open to the public through English Heritage.

And it is a magnificent legacy.

As we made our way back into central London that afternoon, I found myself thinking how easily we might have visited Eltham Palace, admired its beautiful Art Deco interiors, and gone home knowing little more than we had when we arrived.

Instead, a familiar surname led us from a medieval royal palace to the invention of artificial silk, the great Impressionist paintings of London, the creation of an internationally renowned art school, and finally to a mysterious collection of European masterpieces in Zimbabwe.

All from a day trip to the suburbs of London.

And that, to me, is one of the greatest pleasures of travel. Sometimes the most interesting part of visiting a place is discovering all the other places, people, and stories to which it is connected.