BEFORE WAVERLEY

The Waverley committee was not the United Kingdom's first attempt to prevent the export of national treasures; it was preceded by valiant efforts to retain masterpieces for the nation. However, these endeavors were rooted in faith in voluntary action by private individuals, a faith that would prove overoptimistic and under-effective by midcentury.

Early movements to protect cultural heritage in the English-speaking world are credited to John Ruskin and William Morris, who founded the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings in 1877. Many similar voluntary associations soon followed.Footnote ²⁰ In 1903 the National Art Collections Fund (NACF) was formed as a charity through which members' subscription fees and donations were used to help purchase works of art for national museums. Founding member D.S. MacColl summarized the situation: “In 1903 times were bad … and … there was need of an outside, independent body to do the double work of rescue and forestalling.”Footnote ²¹ The fund is independent of the government, supported solely by its members and donors.

Approximately a decade later, the trustees of the National Gallery investigated the problem by forming a committee chaired by the statesman George Nathaniel Curzon, Marquess Curzon of Kedleston (1859–1925) (Figure 1). Lord Curzon had, among other things, served as viceroy of India and during his tenure passed the Ancient Monuments Bill, which created a directorate-general of archaeology and has been called “the most far-sighted of Curzon's reforms.” Curzon “personally oversaw repairs to monuments all over India,” notably the Taj Mahal. In the United Kingdom he purchased and restored Tattershall Castle and Bodiam Castle, both of which he eventually bequeathed to the National Trust. Curzon also served in Lloyd George's war cabinet during World War I and as a foreign secretary after World War II.Footnote ²²

Figure 1.

George Nathaniel Curzon, 1^st Marquess Curzon of Kedleston, glass negative, date unknown. George Grantham Bain Collection, Prints & Photographs Division, Library of Congress, LC-B2-3070-6 [P&P] (Public domain).

Curzon purchased Tattershall six years after The National Trust Act of 1907 proclaimed the need for “promoting the permanent preservation for the benefit of the nation of lands and tenements (including buildings) of beauty or historic interest.”Footnote ²³ The establishment of the NACF and the National Trust in the early twentieth century reflected a growing concern for protecting the nation's cultural heritage, and the Curzon committee was part of this pattern.

Published in 1914, the Curzon report asserted that “the export … of pictures from private collections … is undoubtedly proceeding at a rate which cannot fail to cause serious apprehension.”Footnote ²⁴ But despite its lengthy report, the Curzon committee's influence on policy was regrettably negligible. As the Waverley report notes, “After an exhaustive enquiry the [Curzon] Committee rejected … [the option] to restrict or prohibit the export of works of art from the U.K., or place an export duty on them,” and, furthermore, “Whatever action might have ensued from the Curzon Committee's recommendations was overtaken by the events of 1914.”Footnote ²⁵ Although the committee considered various legal and policy solutions, including tax incentives, it ultimately placed great weight on voluntary solutions rooted in “honour,” “patriotism,” and “public spirit.” It believed that the National Gallery could more vigorously pursue private negotiations with art owners. Curzon stated, “You must trust to [the seller's] honour … appeal to the man as a patriotic citizen, that if he sells, he will sell to you [the National Gallery] before he sells to anyone else.”Footnote ²⁶ He elaborated his vision as follows:

Curzon's optimism was echoed by numerous witnesses whom the committee interviewed. The scholar Roger Fry (1866–1934), for example, believed

Alfred de Rothschild (1842–1918), a prominent collector, stated,

But the optimism expressed by the Curzon committee would deteriorate severely in subsequent decades, eventually necessitating an official policy that the Waverley committee was charged with developing.

POSTWAR TROUBLES

Between the Curzon and the Waverley committees, a few more attempts were made to save masterpieces for the nation. The Waverley report notes:

Evidently, these attempts, like those of the Curzon committee, made no lasting effect.

Until World War II, there were no restrictions whatsoever on art exports. By the end of the war, however, an ad hoc system of controlling art exports had developed. The system grew out of the Import, Export and Customs Powers (Defence) Act of 1939, which, as the Waverley report points out, had “no direct relation to the problem of safeguarding national treasures,” but was rather an emergency measure “intended primarily to safeguard the nation's resources in foreign exchange and at the same time to prevent the flight of capital abroad.”Footnote ³¹ Under this legislation the Board of Trade was responsible for reviewing applications for exports of every kind. When it came to applications regarding highly valuable works of art, the Board of Trade started to seek the advice of curators in national museums. Additionally, in 1944 Captain Charles Waterhouse, parliamentary secretary to the Board of Trade, stated in the House of Commons: “If [the museum advisers] raise any doubt, automatically the license is not granted; there is no question of proving a case; they have only to say, ‘we do not think this is the proper thing to export,’ and straight away that licence is not granted.”Footnote ³² Thus, as one official summarized it, “It has become the practice to use the export licence power … to give the National Gallery the opportunity of preventing a picture going out of the country if [it] consider[s] that it is a matter of national importance to keep it in the country.”Footnote ³³

In other words, this system used expert advisers from museums, as does the Waverley system. However, unlike Waverley, this system gave the expert advisers the authority to judge whether an object was important enough to export-stop. There was no adjudicating body, nothing analogous to the present reviewing committee, between the expert advisers and the Board of Trade, which made the ultimate decision but typically rubber-stamped the museums' recommendations. Furthermore, the cobbling together of the 1939 export legislation with Captain Waterhouse's 1944 statement to form this ad hoc system left a major ambiguity that soon led to significant confusion: It did not make explicit whether a museum's recommendation to prevent an export obliged the museum itself to then purchase the object.

These holes in the system were brought to light when export applications for two paintings—both by Nicolas Poussin, coincidentally—triggered serious discussions about reevaluating the system at hand. The first painting was Poussin's Holy Family on the Steps Footnote ³⁴ (Figure 2), from the collection of the Duke of Sutherland, which in 1948 became the source of tensions between the National Gallery in London and the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. Because of miscommunications and perhaps misrepresentations, a situation developed in which both galleries felt entitled to the painting after they were each approached by dealers from Thomas Agnew & Sons. In November 1948 the National Gallery reported in its board minutes that

In the following month, however, the chief curator at the National Gallery of Art, who had already secured donations in expectation of obtaining the Poussin, wrote to the National Gallery, “[we] understood that a representative of your Board had viewed the painting after it was placed on sale at Agnew's several months before it was offered to [us], and your representatives had expressed no interest in buying it.”Footnote ³⁶ The chairman of the National Gallery retorted,

Eventually, however, the National Gallery relinquished its claim for the sake of maintaining goodwill with the National Gallery of Art. The chairman of the National Gallery wrote to the National Gallery of Art chief curator that “the Board would regret it if [this misunderstanding] left you with a feeling of dissatisfaction, and though they are anxious to retain the picture they would consider ceding it if you so desire.”Footnote ³⁸ The National Gallery of Art accepted the offer. But to further complicate matters, the Board of Trade then threatened to export-stop the painting anyway, believing that the National Gallery's efforts indicated that it was a preeminent work, even if the National Gallery was willing to cede it. After this debacle, the National Gallery resolved that “it was most important that the circumstances which had led to ceding the Sutherland Poussin to Washington should not happen again.”Footnote ³⁹

Figure 2.

Follower of Nicolas Poussin, Holy Family on the Steps, oil on canvas, 1648, 27 inches × 38½ inches, Samuel H. Kress collection. Board of Trustees, National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

But while the Sutherland Poussin was still being disputed, the second Poussin, Et in Arcadia Ego (Figure 3), belonging to the Duke of Devonshire, was causing complications. In this case, the National Gallery

Although the National Gallery of Scotland indeed made a matching offer for Et in Arcadia Ego, the Duke of Devonshire and the Toledo Museum were severely frustrated at the interference, because they were completely unaware of the possibility of an export ban when they had negotiated the sale. Upon learning that his painting was export-stopped, the Duke of Devonshire refused to sell to the National Gallery of Scotland, believing that he was “under a moral obligation to sell to the Toledo Museum.”Footnote ⁴¹

Figure 3.

Nicolas Poussin (1594–1665), Et in Arcadia Ego, oil on canvas, 1629–1630, 101 × 82 cm, Devonshire Collection, Chatsworth (Derbyshire). The Yorck Project 10,000 Meisterwerke der Malerei.

The complications over these two paintings spurred the National Gallery to seek clarification on the export policy. In the board minutes from February 1949, the National Gallery recorded, “The Board of Trade no longer required that there should be a purchaser in this country before they prohibited the export of work of art. They were now prepared to forbid the export of any work of art which had been pronounced of national importance.”Footnote ⁴² In the following month's board meeting, the issue was again discussed: “Members of the Board [of the National Gallery] expressed concern at the hardship which might be suffered by owners who, wishing to sell their pictures abroad, were forbidden to do so and who could not find a purchaser in this country.”Footnote ⁴³ They would soon learn that they were not the only ones concerned by this dilemma.

TREASURY INVOLVEMENT

Although the National Gallery initially sought guidance from the Board of Trade, the government department that proved to be most concerned was the treasury. Without the treasury's deep initiative and involvement, it is unlikely that the Waverley system would have been established. This was an era in which treasury civil servants were also museum trustees and art connoisseurs, and they sat in meetings and corresponded with museum directors and curators. When the troubles over the Poussins surfaced, the treasury wrote to the Board of Trade, “I think we ought to keep the centre of gravity in handling this question in the Treasury rather than in the Board of Trade.” Its reasoning, which sounds remarkable to modern ears, was that the chancellor of the Exchequer was “the nearest thing we have in this country to a Minister of Fine Arts.”Footnote ⁴⁴ To further contextualize, the Waverley system was established alongside the birth of the British welfare state. The government was

Correspondingly, Theresa Lloyd writes, “The establishment of the welfare state also gave rise to a significant change in … the state's role in the provision of public goods,” including the arts. For example, the Arts Council—another organization that then reported directly to the treasury—was founded in 1946 to “provide public funding for artists and cultural organisations, and to ensure universal access to the arts.”Footnote ⁴⁶

It is fitting that Viscount Waverley was himself recently retired from the position of chancellor of the Exchequer when he became chairman of the Waverley committee. But on an even deeper level, it was the treasury civil servants who articulated the nuances and complexity of the problems and gathered much of the evidence to present to the Waverley committee for consideration.

The treasury official who assumed leadership for the art export issue was Sir Philip Dennis Proctor (1905–1983) (Figure 4), treasury third secretary responsible for dealing with the arts and science. Proctor is remembered as “a connoisseur of the arts, with many friendships in the art world … always passionate about painting,” and he served on the governing bodies of the Courtauld Institute as well as several Gulbenkian Foundation arts committees. Additionally, he became a Trustee of the Tate in 1952 and served as its chairman from 1953 to 1959.Footnote ⁴⁷

Figure 4.

Elliot & Fry, Sir Phillip Dennis Proctor (1905–1983), vintage print, 1958, National Portrait Gallery, London. ©National Portrait Gallery, London.

Proctor was engaged with the issue of art exports from the time the tensions over Sutherland Poussin began to surface, corresponding with the chairman of the National Gallery. This correspondence further illustrates the confusion over the practice, because Proctor attests in one letter that if the National Gallery stopped an export, “I think this usually involves the corollary that the Gallery should be willing to purchase it at a fair price itself (or … ensure that there is some purchaser at a fair price within the country).”Footnote ⁴⁸ Also involved in the discussions was Sir Alan Barlow (1881–1968), who had just retired as treasury second secretary in 1948 and began his appointment as a trustee of the National Gallery that year. In May 1949 Proctor wrote to Barlow, “the two Poussins … have led us all to think that we ought to try to get some clarification of the general policy and procedure in this matter,” because the 1944 Waterhouse policy was an “extremely flat-footed statement.”Footnote ⁴⁹ In another letter, Proctor reiterated, “At present the National Gallery authorities simply do not know what [the rules] are … it is abundantly clear that we all need some clarification … and some reformulation of the arrangements for handling particular cases.”Footnote ⁵⁰ These were early signs of the persistence with which Proctor would pursue progress on the issue.

In June 1949 Barlow and Proctor held a meeting with directors and curators from the major national museums to canvas their perceptions about what was the correct procedure to follow. The minutes of this meeting confirmed the confusion that had been expressed by the National Gallery:

Leigh Ashton, director of the Victoria and Albert Museum (V&A), further underscored the inconsistency when he countered that this statement was “quite wrong” with regard to his institution, because “never … has this Museum … ever considered that there was any moral responsibility to purchase.”Footnote ⁵²

A FIRST ATTEMPT BY PROCTOR

Proctor was thus convinced of the need for a “party … to advise to Government on a reformulation of the policy to be followed as regards the granting or withholding of export licences for works of art,”Footnote ⁵³ and took the initiative of drafting a nine-page memorandum in August 1949 that he intended ultimately to submit to the chancellor of the Exchequer and the president of the Board of Trade. In the memo Proctor asserts that the existing system was unsustainable, and

His memo outlines the numerous facets of the problem admirably. He notes that if only works that museums could afford to purchase were export stopped, “the effect will be to expose the country to a continuous drain of works of art.”Footnote ⁵⁵ He is even conscious about the issue's effect on foreign relationships, noting that “attempts on our part to prevent the sale of works of art which are wanted by American public galleries is viewed with much resentment in that country.”Footnote ⁵⁶ The memorandum's most far-sighted element is its proposal to create an “independent advisory committee … solely for the consideration of any cases of doubt or difficulty involving any work of art or antique of national importance.”Footnote ⁵⁷ This body would be completely separate from the expert advisers in museums; its membership would instead be drawn from leaders from organizations such as the “Royal Fine Arts Commissions, Historical Manuscripts Commission, Arts Council, NACF.”Footnote ⁵⁸ The memo thus contains the seeds for the future reviewing committee, articulating the concept of an independent adjudicating body.

Proctor's memo was distributed to the museum directors for feedback. Although they had seen first hand that the existing procedure left undesirable holes, some were surprisingly resistant to Proctor's suggestions for reform. Philip Hendy, director of the National Gallery, wrote, “there has been nothing in the working of the order so far which would seem to necessitate a more complicated machinery.”Footnote ⁵⁹ James Mann of the Wallace Collection added, “I do not think that an Advisory committee … is either needed or would prove efficient. Questions of taste would constantly arise and these are the most difficult of all to resolve.”Footnote ⁶⁰ In October 1949, in a meeting attended by Proctor, the expert advisers, and museum directors, Proctor's idea for an independent advisory committee was rejected by the museum directors in favor of a “standing committee” that would decide on objects of contention. It would be formed—rather redundantly—of “representatives of the Treasury and Board of Trade, the Director or Keeper immediately concerned, and two other [expert advisers or museum directors] acceptable to that Director or Keeper.”Footnote ⁶¹ Proctor noted that this was “open to the objection … [of being a] body mainly composed of the interests responsible for the original decision,” but reluctantly accepted the idea.Footnote ⁶²

Perhaps the museum directors and curators were simply resistant to relinquishing to the authority they held under the ad hoc system; but whatever the reason, it is evident in hindsight that the treasury was more prescient than the museum community. Fortunately, Proctor would discover within two months of this meeting that his memo would not be wasted. Within this short period, the Antique & Art Dealers' Export Group and several important art owners and dealers had contacted the Board of Trade pressing for a clarification of policy. As Proctor noted, “pressure was converging on us from a number of different directions, and … Ministers ought to be warned that trouble is brewing … we should recommend Ministers to set up a public committee of enquiry on similar lines to the Gowers Committee on Stately Homes.”Footnote ⁶³ In December 1949 Proctor's colleague at the Board of Trade echoed, “The signs of storm ahead continue to gather.”Footnote ⁶⁴

Proctor's memo was then revived for discussion. Over the following months, Proctor determinedly championed the matter. In June 1950, when he perceived a lull in progress, he wrote, “I am rather worried that nothing seems to have happened about the memorandum … I think that we ought to try to get something moving before the end of the Session, and there is not very much time left.”Footnote ⁶⁵ His efforts finally resulted in a milestone on July 17, 1950, when Sir Stafford Cripps, chancellor of the Exchequer, submitted a statement to the Lord President's Committee:

THE WAVERLEY COMMITTEE IS FORMED

Within six weeks of this statement, the composition of the committee was all but final. The position of chairman, who needed to be “an independent person of some distinction who is personally interested in artistic matters but is not publicly identified with any particular point of view,”Footnote ⁶⁷ was entrusted to Sir John Anderson, first Viscount Waverley (Figure 5).Footnote ⁶⁸ “Some distinction” was an understatement. Waverley had served as chairman of the Board of Inland Revenue; governor of Bengal; lord president of the council; home secretary in the early years of World War II; and, from 1943 to 1945, chancellor of the Exchequer. His “career as an official, pro-consul, and minister was probably unique in its range, certainly in the twentieth century,” and “it was generally agreed in Whitehall that he was the greatest administrator of his age, perhaps of any age.”Footnote ⁶⁹ These were the talents that he brought to the Waverley committee, and his biographer writes of this episode in his career as follows:

Waverley's appointment as chairman underscores the importance of the project, as does the fact that all those who were invited as first choices to the committee rapidly accepted their invitations. The committee was composed of six members in addition to Waverley: Anthony Blunt; David Lindsay, 28^th Earl of Crawford and 11^th Earl of Balcarres; Ruth Dalton; Vivian Galbraith; Christopher Hussey; and Lionel Robbins. Their biographies should leave no doubt about the capabilities of those who formulated this enduring policy.

Figure 5.

Howard Coster, John Anderson, first Viscount Waverley (1882–1958), toned bromide print on card mount, 1953, National Portrait Gallery, London. ©National Portrait Gallery, London.

Professor Anthony Blunt (1907–1983), the same Poussin scholar who had urged the National Gallery to obtain the controversial Sutherland painting, had become director of the Courtauld Institute in 1947. His ties to the Waverley system would come full circle yet again in 1963 when he would begin a 12-year term as a member of the reviewing committee.

David Lindsay, 28^th Earl of Crawford and 11^th Earl of Balcarres (1900–1975), was known for the “administrative shrewdness and personal charm [which] enabled him throughout his life to place his knowledge unreservedly at the service of the arts in Great Britain.” As the committee was being formed, Waverley wrote, “I attach paramount importance to securing Crawford—whose position in the world of art [is] infinite.”Footnote ⁷¹ Lord Crawford “applied himself energetically to [his posts] with wide-ranging knowledge, unobtrusive forcefulness, and a charm of manner.”Footnote ⁷² His appointments were staggering: From the 1930s to the 1970s, he held positions—if not chairmanships—on the boards of trustees of the National Gallery, British Museum, Royal Fine Arts Commission, National Library of Scotland, National Trust, National Gallery of Scotland, and NACF. Coincidentally, the duration of his appointments was such that in 1952, the year the Waverley report was published, he was simultaneously serving on the boards of every single one of these organizations.Footnote ⁷³

The experiences of Ruth Dalton (1890–1966) included serving as a member of the executive and publicity committees of the National Trust and as a trustee of the Royal Ballet. She also chaired the London County Council Parks Committee, where she initiated a program of holding sculpture exhibitions in parks and helped reopen Kenwood House after its transfer to the London County Council.Footnote ⁷⁴ Furthermore, her husband was Hugh Dalton, who succeeded Waverley as chancellor of the Exchequer from 1945–1947, and who was himself very active in the arts.Footnote ⁷⁵

Professor Vivian Galbraith (1889–1976) was then Regius Professor of Modern History at Oxford, where his “effervescent vitality, and his intimate knowledge of documents, gave his pupils the feeling that this was the real thing in historical scholarship.”Footnote ⁷⁶ Professor Galbraith authored an Introduction to the Use of Public Records and is noted for his “fundamental reappraisal … [and] study of Domesday Book” which “had its origin in the discovery of a late twelfth-century annotated copy of … [a] portion of the survey in a manuscript” at Oxford. His expertise in historical documents would be an important contribution to the Waverley committee.Footnote ⁷⁷

Christopher Hussey (1899–1970) was an architectural historian and author whose appointment to the Waverley committee fell squarely in the middle of his 50-year tenure on the editorial board of Country Life (1920–1970). Hussey is remembered for “mak[ing] the weekly country-house article into a tradition, which was strengthened as architectural history became established as a subject,”Footnote ⁷⁸ and for his efforts against what he saw to be the demise of the country house beginning in the 1920s.

Professor Lionel Robbins (1898–1984) was a preeminent economist who is credited with building up the London School of Economics' international reputation. Previously, Robbins worked closely with Waverley as an economic adviser. Robbins reflected on Waverley's leadership on the Waverley committee,

Robbins also served as president of the managing committee of the Courtauld Institute and as a trustee of the National Gallery. Although he held numerous influential posts in his lifetime,Footnote ⁸⁰ he would reflect on his trusteeship at the National Gallery as “perhaps the most rewarding and happiest office of my life.”Footnote ⁸¹ Robbins would also serve as the first chairman of the reviewing committee established by the Waverley report.

These illustrious biographies support the argument that the export of national treasures was treated seriously by the treasury in those days because of the close ties (if not synonymity) between those with influence in the art world and those with influence on the national purse strings. In contrast, the theme repeated in my conversations with those involved with the modern-day Waverley system is the lack of interest from the treasury. The evolution of the system over the next 50 years reveals numerous administrative layers that would come between the reviewing committee and the treasury.

THE FINDINGS

Unfortunately, Proctor left his post at the treasury too early to see his labors bear fruit. In August 1950 Proctor passed his duties to a capable successor, Sir Edward W. Playfair (1909–1999) (Figure 6), who took an equal, if not deeper, interest in the issue. Playfair had a “strong intellectual and artistic bent” and would later serve as a trustee of the National Gallery from 1967 to 1974, including a term as chairman in 1972.Footnote ⁸² Following in Proctor's footsteps, Playfair exhibited impressive diligence in a thorough memorandum that he wrote in preparation for being questioned by the Waverley committee. In April 1951 he was finally “examined … at fearful length”Footnote ⁸³ (an hour and a half) by the committee, and he “noticed … that [the chairman] had a copy of my brief in his hands, which is all to the good.”Footnote ⁸⁴ He was part of a remarkably thorough list of approximately 150 consultees who presented evidence for the Waverley committee's consideration.Footnote ⁸⁵

Figure 6.

Eliot & Fry, Sir Edward Wilder Playfair (1909–1999), vintage print, 1956, National Portrait Gallery, London. ©National Portrait Gallery, London.

Among other things, the committee considered the practices of other European countries. The treasury received responses from Spain, the Netherlands, Italy, France, and Austria; and their policies at the time are summarized in Appendix 2. It is evident that they all shared a common denominator: The government reserved the ultimate right to prohibit the export of national treasures, regardless of whether an equal value offer was made from within the country. In 1991 the question of other nations' art export policies was reinvestigated, revealing a more comprehensive and complex picture, but it is still evident that most countries retain some form of ultimate veto power, without mandating equal compensation to owners (Appendix 3). In contrast, the commitment to fairly compensating the owners lies at the heart of the Waverley system. The Waverley report establishes the following:

This principle places the United Kingdom on the relatively liberal end of the possible spectrum of art export restriction policies, as sketched out by John O'Hagan and Clare McAndrew in the Table 1.

Indeed, Paul Bator notes that the United Kingdom's system stands out for how “eminently fair” it is to owners. Because the Waverley system “minimiz[es] the incentive to smuggle art by insuring [sic] that the owner forced to retain an art work at home will not suffer economic harm as a result,” the United Kingdom avoids black market problems that trouble other countries that use more restrictive export policies. Yet the Waverley system depends on critical preconditions to thrive; therefore, it may not be easily mimicked in other nations. Bator notes that the Waverley system operates in a

And, of course, even within a structured, relatively affluent, and rights-protecting society such as the United Kingdom, a Waverley-like system is always subject to the restraint that it “can achieve its purposes only if funds are available to prevent export in cases of true national importance.”Footnote ⁸⁸ Derek Gillman echoes, “the system works only if … [there are] funds available to catch not only the important and cheap, but the important and very expensive.”Footnote ⁸⁹

“A VERY ENLIGHTENED REPORT”

When the 88-page Waverley report was finally published on September 6, 1952, it attracted much media interest. Newspapers recognized that requiring export-stopped works to be purchased at a matching price within the country was an “innovation;”Footnote ⁹⁰The Times called it a “revolutionary recommendation.”Footnote ⁹¹ There was a consensus among the press that the report was very well done. The Spectator called it a “very enlightened report … neither sentimental nor short-sighted,”Footnote ⁹² while The Manchester Guardian deemed it “sensible”Footnote ⁹³ and The Financial Times predicted that “its recommendations will almost certainly command universal approval.”Footnote ⁹⁴ Furthermore, the press reiterated the report's sense of urgency. The Daily Telegraph called it a “tragic commentary on Britain's present situation,”Footnote ⁹⁵ while The Birmingham Post stated, “This generation, buying economy at a ludicrous price, is failing in its trust.”Footnote ⁹⁶The Economist asserted that national treasures were “an item of expenditure that unfortunately cannot be put off till better days. Losses cannot be made good another time.”Footnote ⁹⁷

The responses of museum directors were somewhat more mixed. Leigh Ashton called the report “quite admirable … I heartily congratulate [the committee].”Footnote ⁹⁸ T.D. Kendrick, director of the British Museum, seconded, “There is a general welcome to what is regarded in all Departments (except manuscripts) as a most helpful and admirable report.”Footnote ⁹⁹ However, Philip Hendy of the National Gallery proved once again more difficult to please. Playfair observed that Hendy disliked “the weakening of the position of museum and gallery directors…. Hendy wants to get back on the Reviewing Committee … as a member and not to appear before it as a party.”Footnote ¹⁰⁰ Furthermore, after digesting the Waverley report, Hendy drafted a letter to send to the editors of major papers, but he showed it to the other museum directors and to Playfair first:

Hendy's letter closed by restating the urgent need for the government to increase museums' funds for acquisitions.

To modern ears, Hendy's letter hardly sounds offensive; rather, it seems only logical, even obvious, given the requirements of the system. The warning that the system cannot serve its purpose without adequate funding has been all too often reprised over the years. However, it is interesting to consider the responses that it elicited in that period. Although many museum directors supported Hendy's letter, Leigh Ashton of the V&A replied to Hendy,

Playfair added, “The Chancellor would find it embarrassing if … [you] were to send … a letter on [those] lines.”Footnote ¹⁰³ Playfair's and Ashton's responses reflect a faith in the treasury to follow through with increased funding, a faith that has all but vanished today. At that time, however, their admonitions were enough to dissuade Hendy from submitting his letter to the newspapers.

On December 29, 1952, less than four months after the Waverley report was published, the first reviewing committee gathered for its first meeting.Footnote ¹⁰⁴ Two years later it published its first annual report, covering the fiscal year 1953 to 1954.

Some Data

It would be unfair and incomplete to rely solely on qualitative patterns in discussing the Waverley system's evolution. There is much relevant data available, and a thorough quantitative analysis could fill a dissertation of its own. Having acknowledged this, however, it is still possible and worthwhile to perform, in the limited space of this article, a few back-of-the-envelope calculations. The section that follows compares figures from approximately 1955 (i.e., immediately after the two successive 25% funding increases triggered by the Waverley report had been implemented) to figures from circa 2004 (selected because it is a relatively recent year for which useful data is readily available).

First, one should establish how much prices for goods in general have increased between 1955 and 2004. In other words, what is £1 in 1955 worth in 2004 terms? According to the Office for National Statistics, the answer is approximately £17.12. In other words, an item that cost £100 in 1955 would cost around £1712 in 2004. This benchmark is summarized in Table 2.

Table 2.

Average Increase in Prices Caused by Inflation, 2004 versus 1955, According to the Retail Price Index (RPI)Footnote ¹³⁴

Having established this, one might compare how last resort or emergency funding for Waverley objects has increased over the same period. As previously mentioned, the practice for emergency funding in 1955 was to appeal directly to the treasury for special grants, whereas the practice today is to appeal to the NHMF. Objections to the imperfection of this substitution aside, the comparison of 1955 special grants to 2004 NHMF grants is arguably still very useful. As shown in Table 3, the amount of NHMF grants in 2004 is nearly 66 times the amount awarded in special grants in 1955—i.e. significantly higher than the 17-fold increase of average prices in society.

Table 3.

Increase in Emergency Governmental Funding for Waverley Objects, 2004 versus 1955Footnote ¹³⁵

Additionally, one can compare the amounts of regular (i.e., nonemergency) government funding spent on acquisitions by the major museums in 1955 versus 2004. Again, the analogy is imperfect because of changes in policy. In 1955 museums received an annual sum specifically ring fenced for the purpose of acquisitions. But starting in 1993, the government began granting lump-sum budgets to museums, leaving each museum to decide how to allocate the money among different categories of expenditures. Therefore, the best one can do is compare the amounts of 1955 purchase grants to the amounts that museums saw fit to allocate to acquisitions from their total government grant-in-aid in 2004. Still, it is arguably a reasonable comparison (Table 4).

Table 4.

Increase in Nonemergency Governmental Funding for Waverley Objects, 2005 versus 1955Footnote ¹³⁶

Therefore, this sketch of the quantitative story suggests that the amount of government money spent by the top national museums on acquisitions today is on the whole significantly greater than in the immediate post-Waverley years (inflation adjusted). Although the normal course of inflation has raised average prices between 1955 and 2004 by a factor of approximately 17,

• • the 2004 NHMF government grant exceeds the sum of 1955 special treasury grants by a factor of about 66, and

• • government-funded acquisitions spending in 2004 by four major national museums exceeds their 1955 annual purchase grants by a factor of approximately 33.

However, this data should be considered in conjunction with a few more numbers. Table 5 includes figures for the outcomes of Waverley objects in early years versus recent years.

Table 5.

Percentage of Waverley Objects Saved for Selected YearsFootnote ¹³⁷

* The figures for these boxes cannot be calculated because the selling price for one of the Waverley objects which was exported that year, a painting by Francois Clouet, was not reported.

It appears that the percentage of objects saved—both in terms of number of objects as well as monetary value—is often significantly lower today than in the 1950s. At the same time, however, one must note that the number of Waverley objects per year has increased substantially. This increase might be explained by the fact that the expert advisers are asked to assess far more objects today than in the 1950s, and therefore they refer more objects to the reviewing committee. In 1953 to 1954, a total of 977 cases were referred to expert advisers in museums, with slight increases in 1954 to 1955 and 1956 to 1957. In sharp contrast, expert advisers in 2005 to 2006 reviewed a total of 20,063 cases (Table 6)!

Table 6.

Number of Cases Referred to Expert Advisers for Selected YearsFootnote ¹³⁸

Even David Barrie, director of the NACF and a strong proponent for acquisitions, admits, “It may well be that too many items are being stopped.”Footnote ¹³⁹ In 1988, the reviewing committee began the practice of starring, that is, marking the most important of waverley objects. Jonathan Scott, who introduced this practice, explains, “it seemed to me one had to ration the stars very strictly. It had to be absolutely without question that an object that had been starred would be acquired.”Footnote ¹⁴⁰ Arguably, however, indicating the upper echelon of art objects to be saved by all means possible was the original intention of the Waverley designation, and perhaps this is why the early reviewing committees restricted the label to around a half dozen objects per year.

Finally, a critical factor that must also be considered is the rate at which prices in the art market have increased between the 1950s and today. Again, this article is restricted to presenting a brief sketch rather than a comprehensive picture of changes in the art market, but these limited numbers are still revealing. In fiscal year 1954 to 1955 the National Gallery of Scotland purchased the Waverley standard An Old Woman Cooking Eggs by Velazquez for £57,000. In contrast, the last Velazquez to hit the art market, St. Rufina, was sold in 1999 for £5,525,750.Footnote ¹⁴¹ This represents a staggering increase of a factor of 96.94! A second example, albeit slightly less astonishing, is to compare El Grecos sold then and now. In fiscal year 1955 to 1956, the National Gallery acquired El Greco's Waverley standard The Adoration of the Name of Jesus (then called Dream of Philip II) for £42,500. In 2007 El Greco's The Annunciation sold for £2,090,000.Footnote ¹⁴² This is an increase of a factor of 49.18 (Table 7).

Table 7.

Comparison of Old Master Prices, Recent versus 1950s

Jonathan Scott states the following:

There's been a really massive change because of changes in the art market … No one is standing back and saying “just hold on a moment, what are our priorities, what are we trying to do?” It's a big awkward, difficult subject, but I suspect we must go back and re-examine our priorities in light of the new market.Footnote ¹⁴³

These skyrocketing art prices help explain why the sense of urgency continues to mount, even though the amount of governmental funding that gets channelled toward acquisitions appears to have increased at a rate which significantly exceeds normal inflation.

A CHANGING LANDSCAPE?

The evidence collected in this article supports the consensus that the Waverley system is generally efficient, resilient, and fair. Alternative systems, notably “listing,”Footnote ¹⁴⁴ have seriously been considered more than once since 1952 and have consistently been rejected in favor of Waverley. The problem lies in funding Waverley objects. Can the labors of Proctor, Playfair, and Waverley—all treasury men—provide hope and encouragement? Or is it time to acknowledge that the system's postwar level of closeness to the treasury can never be restored? Is it even realistic or reasonable to expect the government to keep pace with a soaring art market? As a spokesperson at the DCMS suggests, “There's a major problem of expecting the public sector, basically the taxpayer, to chase international art prices at the highest level.”Footnote ¹⁴⁵

Perhaps a new culture of funding Waverley objects lies ahead. The NACF's recent campaign to save the Waverley standard Blue Rigi by Turner (Figure 7) seemed to spark a new kind of public enthusiasm for saving a masterpiece for the nation. The Guardian called the campaign a “spectacular success,” and the director of the NACF stated, “I felt that £300,000 was very ambitious, but five weeks later we have raised more than £550,000 … It's the largest sum ever raised from a public appeal of this sort.”Footnote ¹⁴⁶ The campaign capitalized on the capabilities of the Internet, creatively calling on the public to “Buy a [Virtual] Brushstroke” for as little as £5. Another Waverley object recently saved is the Macclesfield Psalter (Figure 8), now in Cambridge's Fitzwilliam Museum. Public enthusiasm for saving the psalter also exceeded expectations, and visitors queued for hours to see it when it was first displayed. Duncan Robinson, director of the Fitzwilliam, reflects, “Sometimes we're afraid of public reaction when in actuality we'll find that public reaction is very much on our side.”Footnote ¹⁴⁷ A recent display at the V&A (Figure 9) is further evidence that the mission of saving national treasures is increasingly framed as an issue that every museum visitor should know about and can contribute toward.

Figure 7.

J.M.W. Turner, The Blue Rigi, watercolor on paper, 1842, 29.7 × 45 cm, Tate Britain. ©Tate, London 2008.

Figure 8.

The Father and Son, historiated initial from the Macclesfield Psalter, vellum, use of sarum, East Anglia, c. 1330, English School (14th century). ©Fitzmilliam Museum, University of Cambridge, UK/Bridgeman Art Library, Ms 1-2005, ff. 161-v-162.

Figure 9.

Display of the Marlborough ewer and basin at the Victoria and Albert Museum, London, 2007. ©Vivian F. Wang, 2007.

Others have also been optimistic about private philanthropy, with the caveat that it is currently more potential than realization. The 1999 to 2000 reviewing committee report surmised that “with the rise of the new economy, there must be hundreds, if not thousands, of people in this country who could … have saved”Footnote ¹⁴⁸ some of the Waverley objects lost that year. Goodison has stated, “It is the main thrust of my report, that … we need to encourage more private money to come into the system to help solve the starvation of public money.”Footnote ¹⁴⁹ After all, the United States—that source of the United Kingdom's headaches when it comes to art exports—has built great collections in its own museums through a tradition relying almost entirely on private philanthropy. But the United States has more generous tax incentives than the United Kingdom; even private philanthropy needs government support to flourish. As Derek Gillman points out, “Britain … has charitable foundations with the capacity to provide economic assistance, [but] their activities are generally on a modest scale compared to the United States.”Footnote ¹⁵⁰ The argument for not considering new incentives because “present concessions and present incentives are not used sufficiently” is unconvincing, focused more on shifting the onus than on achieving results.Footnote ¹⁵¹

At the very least, the story of how the Waverley system came into being is valuable not because it implies that the government should or will dig deeper into its purse, but because it illustrates a fundamental mindset and interest. If the treasury in 1952 could act on the Waverley report within four months, why did it recently take more than three years merely to acknowledge the Goodison Review? Whatever the shape of the future path for saving Waverley objects, a genuine concern for the issue from the treasury is a prerequisite if substantial progress is to be made.