SAMUEL PALMER'S DEPICTIONS of The lonely tower – a subject taken from Milton’s early poem Il Penseroso – rank among his most impressive later works. Repeated on a number of occasions, the composition is best known in one of its last manifestations, as an etching from 1879 (Fig.1). In this version, the isolated hilltop tower, with its single light shining out against a darkened sky, forms a particularly haunting image. It was this print that prompted W.B. Yeats to make what is probably the most famous literary reference to Palmer. This comes in the poem The Phases of the Moon in which Yeats uses the scene to shape his own commentary on Il Penseroso, talking of how ‘From the far tower, where Milton’s Platonist sat late’ could be seen ‘The lonely light that Samuel Palmer engraved/An image of mysterious wisdom won by toil’. This evocation of ‘mysterious wisdom won by toil’ seems particularly relevant to the later part of Palmer’s career. The meticulously crafted works of that period, replete with pictorial and literary allusion, contrast strongly with the vivid and ebullient work of his early ‘visionary’ years. However, even within this later period, The lonely tower seems to stand out for its powerfully evocative mood.

IN THE SHORT period between the accession of King George VI in December 1936 and the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939, Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Consort, quickly became known for her keen interest in the arts. Not only did she readily adopt the custodianship of the Royal Collection – when Benedict Nicolson was appointed Deputy Surveyor in 1939, Kenneth Clark, Surveyor of the King’s Pictures (1934–44), informed him that he would be dealing directly with Queen Elizabeth, ‘who is completely charming and most anxious to know about the pictures’ – she also became an enthusiastic collector on her own account, with a particular interest in the work of living British painters. The cornerstone of her collection was laid in 1938 when she bought ‘When Homer nods’ (1915), a portrait of George Bernard Shaw by Augustus John. The purchase was reported approvingly in the press; according to an editorial in The Times of April 1938: ‘The Queen has decided that contemporary British painting matters – irrespective of subject represented or fashionable tendency in style; and it will be against all experience if, according to their means, the decision is not followed by many of her subjects – to the raising of the general level of taste, and to the practical advantage of good artists who, less from insensibility to their merits than from uncertainty about the importance of art in life, are apt to be neglected.’ In a private letter to the queen, Clark expressed the same conviction: ‘may I say how extremely valuable to all of us who care for the arts is Your Majesty’s decision to buy the work of living painters. It is not too much to say that it will have an important effect on British art in general. [. . .] Under Your Majesty’s patronage British painters will have a new confidence, because you will make them feel that they are not working for a small clique but for the centre of the national life.’ Over the next few years Queen Elizabeth’s collection came to include, as well as a number of drawings by Augustus John, works by other leading British artists, including William Nicholson, Walter Sickert, Duncan Grant, Paul Nash, David Jones and Matthew Smith. With only a few exceptions (mainly in the case of portraits) Queen Elizabeth’s approach to collecting was to purchase existing works, rather than to make commissions. When, therefore, in 1941, she commissioned a series of watercolour views of Windsor Castle from John Piper, she was making a significant departure from her established pattern.