By Brad Miner

It's odd and wonderful that these things happen. I'm speaking of the discovery or re-discovery of paintings by great artists. In some cases, they are complete surprises (a masterwork previously unknown or, anyway, lost to history); in other cases, a work well-known, but misattributed. I've written previously here about two such occurrences involving the Baroque master Caravaggio. This column is about a third.

The Calling of Saints Peter and Andrew was found in a Hampton Court Palace storeroom, forgotten for hundreds of years, after having been purchased by King Charles I in 1637. Then came the Commonwealth and Charles' execution in 1649, at which point the painting was sold.

English history being what it is, then came the 1660 Restoration and Charles II, who re-purchased The Calling of Saints Peter and Andrew. And then . . .

I pause for clarity: The House of Stuart's Charles I, ostensibly Protestant, married Henrietta Maria of France, definitely Catholic. This did not sit well with English Protestants, who were also angry at the king's tolerance of Catholics. Thus, the English Civil War, at the end of which the king was beheaded. Then came the Commonwealth and the restoration of the monarchy following the line of succession, meaning Charles II became king.

Then, two years later, came the exile of Charles II, who was rumored (correctly) to be a secret Catholic, and, not so many years later, the Act of Settlement that banned anyone Catholic (or a Protestant who simply married a Catholic) from ascending to the throne. Charles II did return to England and died at Whitehall. Thus, the uneasy, brief Restoration followed by the enduring Glorious (Protestant) Revolution. Clear as mud, right?

This is how The Calling of Saints Peter and Andrew by a Catholic artist ended up in a royal closet gathering dust.

The English are more tolerant of Catholics today, of course, except when it comes to the line of succession. Whenever someone in that line acknowledges and embraces the Four Marks of the Church, that person's name is erased from the line. (A 2013 law did eliminate the previous disqualification for just marrying a Catholic, but it remains the case that no Catholic may be king or queen.)

It's not entirely certain how the notion arose that the painting was just a copy of a lost original: a Caravaggisti's imitation of the master's work. In any case, it sat in storage for three-and-a-half centuries until conservators began removing dust and grime in 1987, and the restored, 4 ft. x 5 ft. painting was confirmed to be by Caravaggio himself.

Among other revelations, cleaning showed Caravaggio's attention to detail in rendering the hands of the three figures. Peter and Andrew have the tanned and weathered hands of fishermen. The beardless Christ, in Caravaggio's mind a much younger man, points the way forward, and his fingers seem unnaturally long, especially his left thumb.

The scene is from Mark 1:16-18:

And passing along by the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and Andrew the brother of Simon casting a net in the sea; for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, "Follow me and I will make you become fishers of men." And immediately they left their nets and followed him.

It's fair to ask if Caravaggio got the scene just right. Peter's face is shrouded in shadow. He holds a fish in his right hand and the gesture of his left seems to suggest either Wait or Lead on. Andrew seems to be indicating, You want ME?

But in the fourth Gospel, John relates a different version of the calling of Andrew - and of himself - and it's an eyewitness account (1:35-37):

The next day John the Baptist was standing with two of his own followers. Jesus walked by. John looked at Him and said, "See! The Lamb of God." John's two followers heard him say this and followed Jesus.

From this, we might suppose Caravaggio meant to indicate that Andrew is telling his older brother either, This is the man I told you about or I'm going; you should come too. But tho...