Discover the fascinating life of Isabella Stewart Gardner, a trailblazing art collector and socialite who left an indelible mark on Boston’s cultural landscape. This episode delves into Gardner’s journey from New York socialite to renowned art patron, her creation of the iconic Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, and the shocking 1990 heist that rocked the art world. Learn how Gardner’s unconventional personality and passion for art shaped her legacy, and uncover the mysteries surrounding the largest unsolved art theft in history. Perfect for history buffs, art enthusiasts, and anyone intrigued by untold stories of influential figures. Don’t miss this captivating tale of wealth, culture, and intrigue in early 20th century America.
Isabella Stewart GardnerJohn Lowell (Jack) Gardner Jr.Bernard Berenson in his Italian villa.Botticelli, The Tragedy of LucretiaRembrandt, Storm on the Sea of GalileeRembrandt, Self-Portrait, damaged, not stolen.Titian, Rape of EuropaVermeer, the Music LessonManet, Chez TortoniRembrandt, A Man and Woman in BlackFlinck, Landscape with ObeliskJohn Singer Sargent, Isabella Stewart GardnerGardner Museum, Central Courtyard
Discover the fascinating life of Isabella Stewart Gardner, a trailblazing art collector and socialite who left an indelible mark on Boston’s cultural landscape. This episode delves into Gardner’s journey from New York socialite to renowned art patron, her creation of the iconic Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, and the shocking 1990 heist that rocked the art world. Learn how Gardner’s unconventional personality and passion for art shaped her legacy, and uncover the mysteries surrounding the largest unsolved art theft in history. Perfect for history buffs, art enthusiasts, and anyone intrigued by untold stories of influential figures. Don’t miss this captivating tale of wealth, culture, and intrigue in early 20th century America. Like, subscribe, and explore more episodes of bite-sized biographies that bring forgotten legends to life.Gardner Museum security guard, Rick AbathMyles Connor, later in life.William Youngworth III, Late 90’s.Robert “Bobby” Donati, as a young manIsabella Stewart Gardner, 1907Gardner Museum, 1920Robert GentileRyan McGuiganOne of the three searches of Robert Gentile’s propertyRecent photo of the original Gardner buildingRecent photo of Gardner 2012 addition.Isabella Stewart Gardner, 1922, by John Singer SargentGardner Family Mausoleum, Mt. Auburn Cemetery, Cambridge, MA
In 1961, an unemployed cab driver, Kempton Bunton, pulled off one of the most remarkable art thefts of the 20th century. Or did he?
Kempton Bunton, 1965
Bunton’s mother named him Kempton Cannon Bunton after a British jockey, Kempton Cannon, who won the Epsom Derby only days before her son’s birth, June 14, 1904, a victory she financially backed. When asked about his unusual name, Bunton also always replied, “It’s Kempton as in Kempton Park racecourse,” as if to underscore his interest in such an edgy activity.
Francisco De Goya’s portrait of the Duke of Wellington
Arthur Wellesley, the First Duke of Wellington, became one of the most prominent military and political leaders of the British Empire during the first half of the nineteenth century. Despite spending approximately fifteen years in military posts that included the Netherlands and especially India, Wellesley remained an obscure commanding officer until his 1808 assignment to the Peninsula War, an extended conflict on the Iberian Peninsula combating Napoleonic occupation. This grueling struggle, combined with Napoleon’s disastrous 1812 invasion of Russia, depleted French military strength, and lead to France’s eventual capitulation. One of the key moments of the Peninsula War occurred when Wellesley, then the Earl of Wellington, achieved a decisive victory at Salamanca, which lead to the liberation of the capital, Madrid and the flight to Valencia of Joseph Bonaparte, titular king of Spain, and brother of Napoleon Bonaparte. The Earl entered the capital on August 12, 1812, at the head of his troops, the British hailed as liberators by Madrid’s grateful inhabitants. The Peninsula War dragged on laboriously until 1814 and the final collapse and abdication of Napoleon Bonaparte, but after Salamanca, Madrid was never reoccupied by French forces.
Francisco De Goya
As a celebrity, Wellington, in the capital, crossed paths with Francisco de Goya, the Spanish Court Painter and a prominent member of official society in his own right. Goya was able to get the British commander to sit for a sketch and two other eventual paintings, an equestrian study and a remarkable portrait of Wellington, in scarlet uniform, festooned with numerous colorful decorations and a remarkably lifelike expression. Over time, as the historical prominence of both men grew, this portrait achieved a special stature denoting the interaction of one of Europe’s greatest artists with one of the continent’s most accomplished statesman and military leaders, a truly rare collaboration.
Britain’s National Gallery, London
The initial controversy and subsequent national retention of such a uniquely British artifact generated massive publicity and anticipation when it was announced that the painting would be placed on display at London’s National Gallery, beginning August 2, 1961. For two and a half weeks, crowds averaging well over five thousand patrons daily, an unusual increase over the normal number of the museum’s visitors, flocked to see the newly acquired painting. To accentuate the stature of and to insure maximum accessibility for the throng of visitors eager to see the portrait, Goya’s Duke of Wellington was displayed on a portable easel, not in one of the museum’s rooms with other paintings but by itself, in a common area, in the North Vestibule of the Gallery. It also was loosely secured on the easel to allow for immediate removal in the event of fire or some other calamity. Then, on August 21, the painting vanished.
In 1961, an unemployed cab driver, Kempton Bunton, pulled off one of the most remarkable art thefts of the 20th century. Or did he?
Kempton Bunton, entering court in 1965
Although Bunton was initially only charged with one count of larceny, the prosecution submitted an indictment that was much more severe. He was now charged with two counts of larceny, one for the painting, one for the frame, that was never recovered, and one charge of menacing for submitting letters to Lord Robbins demanding money. In addition, he was charged with creating a public nuisance by depriving citizens of their right to see the painting and with additional menacing, implying the potential threat to permanently keep or even destroy the artwork in his letter to the Mirrror. Breaking out the frame and the portrait theft charges separately and prosecuting Bunton for inconveniencing the public, certainly seemed like a case of overcharging, however the prosecution might have been concerned about a jury’s reaction to an oddball like Bunton, especially where charity was supposedly involved and they may have wished to underline the gravity of the offence.
London’s Old Bailey
On November 4, 1965, in the Central Criminal Court, Kempton Bunton’s trial began before Judge Carl Aarvold, a distinguished jurist eventually knighted for his public service. The court was known by its nickname, Old Bailey, the site of numerous famous and sensational court cases involving many famous defendants. Its marble floors, ornate décor and fine wooden walls evoked the image of a British courtroom popularized throughout the world in film and television.
Lobby of Old Bailey
Although Bunton was initially only charged with one count of larceny, the prosecution submitted an indictment that was much more severe. He was now charged with two counts of larceny, one for the painting, one for the frame, that was never recovered, and one charge of menacing for submitting letters to Lord Robbins demanding money. In addition, he was charged with creating a public nuisance by depriving citizens of their right to see the painting and with additional menacing, implying the potential threat to permanently keep or even destroy the artwork in his letter to the Mirrror. Breaking out the frame and the portrait theft charges separately and prosecuting Bunton for inconveniencing the public, certainly seemed like a case of overcharging, however the prosecution might have been concerned about a jury’s reaction to an oddball like Bunton, especially where charity was supposedly involved and they may have wished to underline the gravity of the offence.
Courtroom Number One, Old Bailey
Kempton Bunton had a spontaneous manner of testifying that incorporated unintentionally hilarious comments that convulsed the entire courtroom, including the judge, with raucous laughter. When asked if he had ever told his wife about the theft, Bunton replied emphatically and without hesitation,
“No, then the whole world would know, if I told her.”
When Cussen attempted to challenge Bunton’s assertion that he always intended to return the Goya, Bunton was practically exasperated,
“Absolutely, it was no good to me otherwise. I wouldn’t hang it in my own kitchen if it was my own picture,” the comment again bringing down the house, an unemployed cab driver deriding one of the art world’s most esteemed paintings. Again and again, Bunton’s oddball demeanor and ability to stonewall the prosecution not allowing Cussen to portray him in a diabolical light.
Material used to compose this podcast included the book:
“Kidnapped: The Incredible, True Story of the Art Theft that Shocked a Nation,” by Alan Hirsch.
Also, the newspaper article: “The Man Who REALLY Stole Goya’s Priceless Duke of Wellington,” by Kevin McDonald, The Daily Mail, June 14, 2021.
The outro for part one and part two is, “Wedding Invitation,” by Jason Farnham.
And a very special thanks to William Haviland, for his permission to use his solo piano version of “Jerusalem,” for the intro in parts one and two. You may review additional information and performances by Mr. Haviland at his website. A link is provided below:
