I cannot say that I have ever been keen to study history in a big way. Like a lot of kids, I was always fascinated by all the exciting details of battles and beliefs but once the subject of politics and economics came out I drifted off into a boredom induced coma. There is one exception: The Elizabethan Era. It is just impossible to find it boring.

A time of religious upheaval, turmoil and war that resulted in some of the most important cultural changes to have ever taken place in the British Isles. In the centre of all this is Elizabeth, the virgin queen, a fierce redhead with brains, beauty and power (what is there not to love about her?) Whilst other monarchs were bickering over borders and roughing up the locals, we had a leader that was busy putting both the parliament and the gentry firmly in their place. She also took on the massive responsibility of attempting to heal a nation divided by religion and crippled by economic mismanagement.

I felt a surge of nerdish delight the other day when the national portrait gallery revealed that an old painting of Queen Bess had deteriorated to reveal the queen holding a serpent in place of the flowers that had been painted over it. Given that almost all of the portraits of the Tudor queen rely heavily on the symbols used in them I cannot help but wonder why the artist chose a snake and then changed his mind.

A lot of specialists have argued that the serpent has always been used as a symbol of wisdom but I cannot help but think that it has some overtly Biblical connotations. Perhaps it was the ambiguity of the symbol that made the artist change it but that then begs the question: why flowers? Why go from something so bold to a picture of just another pretty woman holding a posy? I can only guess that he did not want to cause offence and so he went for the safety of censorship rather than the risk of daring creativity.

One thing has, however, haunted my opinion regarding the picture; a line from Macbeth written sometime after the Queen’s death. “Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't”. I am not suggesting that Shakespeare was somehow in on the secret but it would make for an interesting story and is at the very least a charming coincidence. The line fits with the symbol that has accidently emerged from the painting, a symbol that reflects the Virgin Queen in a way that no other portrait has managed.

On the outside was a dainty woman adored by all but beneath that image was the reality of one of the most powerful and enigmatic monarchs Britain has ever known. I will leave the informed speculation to the experts. I am happy to view this painting for what it means to me as an amateur; it is another shining and mysterious jewel that can be added to the crown of the Virgin Queen. I would urge anyone looking for something a bit different to do to go down to see the painting for themselves when it is put on display in London. After all, how often does a four-hundred year old queen reveal a secret to the nation?