It’s not often that a medieval embroidery gets broadcast across the huge electronic billboards at Piccadilly Circus. But that’s what happened on the morning of 26 February, as the British Museum made its first big splash to announce details of its forthcoming blockbuster Bayeux Tapestry exhibition (tickets go on sale 1 July). I was there to enjoy the experience, and it was a delight to see an artefact that I’ve spent a long time thinking about getting the full film-star treatment.

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The exhibition is not without controversy. Questions have been raised by French campaigners and one celebrated English artist (David Hockney) on how fit the Bayeux Tapestry is to travel, and whether it’s right to subject this venerable artefact to the rigours of a trip from Normandy to London.

These are reasonable concerns, but they miss the point. Yes, there is risk, but what about the reward? What does the Tapestry gain from being transported and displayed in such a high-profile way? I’d argue that, rather than putting the Tapestry at mortal danger of destruction, the loan guarantees its long-term survival and will be a boon for the tourist business in Bayeux to boot. What other medieval artwork or contemporary documentary source could hope to receive the wall-to-wall media exposure that the Tapestry is currently receiving?

A busy city street with pedestrians and vehicles passes beneath a large digital billboard mounted on the side of a modern building. The billboard displays an advertisement for the British Museum, featuring a scene from the Bayeux Tapestry, with figures in period clothing and the words “REX,” “HAROLD,” and “The British Museum – From Egypt to…”. Surrounding buildings include shops with street‑level storefronts, and a white truck and van are visible in the foreground
The Bayeux Tapestry is broadcast across Piccadilly Circus, 26 February 2026. It has received the “full film-star treatment”, says David Musgrove (Image by David Musgrove)

When the exhibition opens in London in the autumn, there surely won’t be many people who haven’t heard of the Tapestry, the story it tells and the many mysteries it still contains. The queues will be round the block to see it. And when it returns to its newly revamped museum back in Bayeux in 2027, in time for the millennial commemorations of the birth of William the Conqueror, the press interest will be just as high: people will be keen to see how it will be displayed in its new permanent home. This is priceless PR, and it will keep a steady flood of visitors heading to Normandy for years to come, paying the museum entrance fee and spending their tourist money in the town and region. That is the long-term reward for the risk of the loan.

Surviving against the odds

The Bayeux Tapestry is likely around 950 years old (we don’t actually know when it was made, but most experts would agree that it was shortly after the event it depicts, the Norman Conquest of 1066). It was designed to be displayed, and probably to be moved around. Whether it was made for secular great halls or to be hung around the naves of churches, it was meant for show.

The artefact offers a specific, partial and male-heavy telling of the Conquest story, positioning the Norman invasion as a straight clash between two worthy military men – England’s Harold and Normandy’s William – and excluding other important figures from the narrative (women generally, Norway’s Hardrada, Harold’s brother Tostig and Edgar Ætheling, the closest blood relative to the old king Edward the Confessor). I imagine that the designers would be delighted to see that, almost a thousand years on, the Tapestry is being displayed once more to such fanfare and is still able to get its message across.

Given the Tapestry’s age, it’s not surprising that it’s a fragile artefact. It’s been through some tough times, having nearly been chopped up in the frenzied years of the French Revolution, wound and unwound for visitors on a rolling mechanism in the 19th century, soldered into a cylindrical zinc case during the Franco-Prussian War, and manhandled by the Nazis in the 1940s. These various depredations explain why it seems to be lacking its final panel, fraying into oblivion as the defeated Anglo-Saxon troops flee the field after William’s great victory at the battle of Hastings. It’s been patched up over the years, and wears some of this repair work pretty obviously. It’s fair to say that the 19th-century restoration it underwent wasn’t always particularly sensitively done.

A group of high‑ranking German military officers from the World War II era stand around a large table studying the Bayeux Tapestry. They wear dark uniforms with insignia and medals, and several lean in closely as if discussing strategy. The room is formal and dimly lit, with the tapestry dominating the centre of the scene.
Herbert Jankuhn presents a section of the Bayeux Tapestry to German officers as part of the Nazi regime's heritage research, 1941 (Image by Bayeux Museum)

So yes, the Tapestry demands careful attention and handling, and yes, we need to be mindful of potholes on the roads from Bayeux to Bloomsbury. But as Nicholas Cullinan, director of the British Museum, has pointed out, the business of moving priceless and fragile historical artefacts around the world is precisely what museums do on a regular basis. French and British experts are working together to ensure that the move and redisplay in London is carried out to the highest standards.

Lessons from the Ladies of Leek

To see what impact the loan exhibition will have, we need only look a little to the west of London and consider the story of its fabulous full-size 19th-century replica, housed today in Reading Museum. It was made by the Ladies of the Leek Embroidery Society 140 years ago, under the strenuous stewardship of Mrs Elizabeth Wardle. Almost immediately after they’d completed their work, Mrs Wardle and the stitching Ladies of Leek allowed their labour of love to go on tour, around the UK, and as far afield as Germany and the US. At a time when international travel was more challenging than today, the replica gave crowds on both sides of the Atlantic a first-hand view of this celebrated medieval artwork.

Five times in the 20th century, requests were made from the UK for a loan of the original Bayeux Tapestry: in 1931, 1953, 1966, 1972 and 1980. All these attempts to secure a loan came to nought. In 1953, staff at the V&A were so confident that the Tapestry was coming that they prepared an introductory guidebook, and, as I reported in a recent article for HistoryExtra, in 1980 officials even considered whether a trip to Bayeux by the Queen Mother might have helped seal a deal. In 1966, negotiations faltered because it wasn’t clear to the British delegates whether they should be talking to the French state or the municipality of Bayeux to make progress.

A person in a white protective suit and blue gloves adjusts a large historic tapestry that hangs from a metal rail system in a controlled conservation workspace. The tapestry shows intricate woven patterns and text, and the individual is carefully supporting its surface with both hands, highlighting the delicate, detailed work of preserving cultural artefacts
A worker prepares the Bayeux Tapestry for transfer to the British Museum, September 2025. There were five attempts at securing a loan of this kind in the 20th century, all of which failed (Image by Getty Images)

In that year, the 900th anniversary of the battle of Hastings, though the original did not cross the Channel, the Reading replica sated the interest in Britain for a Bayeux Tapestry tour. It was sent on an extensive exhibition circuit around the UK from 1965 to 1967. From Aberdeen to Bournemouth, via Gateshead, Anglesey, Doncaster, Hereford and many other stops between, the replica was on show to anyone who wanted to have a look at this recreation of the medieval marvel. It was this sort of exposure that helped to cement the Tapestry’s place in our national consciousness as the archetypal artwork of the Middle Ages.

From Tutmania to Tapmania

If the Reading replica’s extensive touring schedule through the 19th and 20th centuries has helped to drive awareness of the Bayeux Tapestry, that is nothing to what the loan of the original 11th-century embroidery will do when it comes to London this year. Interest will be stratospheric. As Helena Dollimore, MP for Hastings and Rye, noted in a parliamentary debate on the Tapestry on 25 February, “The Bayeux Tapestry exhibition at the British Museum will be the exhibition of a generation”.

A section of the Bayeux Tapestry showing mounted soldiers in chainmail riding horses and holding spears, arranged in a dynamic battle scene. Decorative animals and motifs run along the top and bottom borders, and a line of Latin text appears above the riders.
A section of Reading Museum’s replica Bayeux Tapestry. This facsimile toured the UK after requests for the original to be loaned were rejected (Image by Alamy)

She’s right, based on the recent polling carried out on behalf of the British Museum that says that 71 per cent of parents want their child to learn more about the story of the Tapestry whilst it is in the UK. Those children will, in time, want to share the memory of this experience with their offspring, and so the Tapestry will indeed get a generational boost from this.

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According to the British Museum’s chair of trustees, George Osborne, 7.5 million visitors are expected to flock to see the Tapestry. This loan will do for early medieval history what the mighty Tutankhamun exhibition at the British Museum in 1972 did for Egyptology. Tutmania blossomed then, and Tapmania will bloom among us this year. The ongoing visitor flow to Bayeux will mean that it will be amply financially supported for decades to come. That’s the reward to balance the risk, and that’s why the forthcoming loan to the British Museum is something we should celebrate and be immensely excited about.

Authors

Dr David Musgrove, FSAContent director

David Musgrove is the content director at HistoryExtra

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