NB This is a draft of the blog posted on my main blogsite, at http://blog.mikerendell.com

The artist George Romney died on the  fifteenth day of November 1802. His life spanned an almost identical period to Richard Hall. In his lifetime he became one of the most fashionable portrait painters of the Age.

He is perhaps best remembered for painting more than fifty portraits of Nelson's mistress Emma Hamilton. He first met her as Emma Hart in around 1781. He became pre-occupied by her, painting her over and over agin, often from memory, and often in heroic or historical guises such as Joan of Arc. He referred to her as his 'divine Emma'

A provocative little minx, to be sure, but I rather prefer Romney as the master of the 'Lady in a Flamboyant Hat' style of painting - to my mind, a fine hat makes for a fine portrait and you cannot get much better than some of these:

Mrs Musters

                                                         Miss Constable

Lady Edward Bentinck (born Elizabeth Cumberland).

                          Lady Milnes, painted in 1788   

He occasionally painted his sitters without a hat, sometimes making do with a tiara as here with his 1770 portrait of Mary White

But I prefer 'Mrs Tickell at Ascott' - this is what I call a hat.

                                                                  

Romney had a somewhat unusual family life - he lived apart from his wife for nearly forty years, maintaining her financially in the Lake District while he was based in London, but returning to her for the last two  years of his life when his health started to fail.

He steadfastly refused to have anything at all to do with the Royal Academy, despite beign asked to exhibit there on many occasions, possibly because of his aversion to anything at all which was connected to Joshua Reynolds, whom he loathed.

                         A self-portrait.

Farewell, George Romney, you faithfully recorded the Age in which you lived. Especially the hats. We remember you fondly, for tomorrow is the anniversary of your death.

Tuesday 9th November 1779 - Richard Hall noted "Saw the Lord Mayor's Show by water. Wet in morn'g. was fine at the time of the show, afternoon fair, not cold."

London had a mayor way back in the reign of King John, although there wasn’t a ‘Lord Mayor’ until the fifteenth century. The first mayors were appointed but in recognition of the support given by the good burghers of the City, the monarch granted them the privilege of electing their mayor – but on one condition: once a year the mayor had to present himself at Westminster to pledge allegiance to the Crown. And so it was that the new mayor, with his retinue of supporters from the various Livery Companies, made his way upriver from the City to Westminster. And for nearly 800 years each mayor has done the same, with a few breaks for the odd war or civil insurrection.

Nowadays the Lord Mayor is met by the Lord Chief Justice rather than by the monarch in person, but for centuries it has been a pageant, with much finery on display, with tableaux and floats (indeed the name ‘float’ originated form the elaborate displays which were brought up-river on decorated barges)

Some time in the fifteenth century the Lord Mayor , then a draper called John Norman, decided to make at least part of the journey by boat, and the livery companies vied with each other for grand barges to accompany the procession. It became the ‘done thing’ to view proceedings from the water – hence Richard’s reference to it in his diary. It would have been a grand spectacle, with music, singing and great displays.  No wonder Canaletto, on one of his visits to the City, painted a couple of views of the pageant, viewed from the Thames.

London Westminster Bridge From The North On Lord Mayors Day

Just twenty or so years before Richard’s diary entry a decision was made to use a formal carriage to enable the Lord Mayor to make the journey in style. An earlier mayor had fallen from his horse when being barracked by a woman variously described as a flower seller and a fishwife. Maybe she was both, but it was a serious case of lèse-majesté and a coach was accordingly ordered to be made. It cost over a thousand pounds to be built in 1757 – and each of the aldermen had to cough up some sixty pounds  (nearly £5000 in today’s money). It is a wonderful sight, with its side panels decorated by the Italian painter Cipriani.

In Richard’s day all the apprentices would have been given the day off to follow the procession and to see the tableaux and wonder at the sheer glitter of it all. London was indeed a city of huge wealth, just as much as it was a place of grinding poverty.

Historically the show was held on 29 October each year but when the calendar changed  in 1752 it moved on by the 'missing' 11 days to 9th November. Since 1959 it has been moved to the second Saturday in November, and hence this year will be on 12 November.

A REMINDER : from now on most of my blogs will appear on http://blog.mikerendell.com   (this  present site will simply include a few copies from time to time)

Yes, there have actually been other things which happened on 5th November besides Mr Guido Fawkes and his failed plot ! This day in 1743 Richard Cosway was born in Tiverton, Devon. He was educated at Blundell’s School before being packed off to London as a twelve-year old. He quickly showed his exceptional talents as an artist, opening his own business as a painter in 1760. Before he was thirty he was sufficiently established to be one of the founder members of the Royal Academy – an extraordinary achievement.

His specialities were portrait miniatures. This is a self-portrait done in 1770.

and this one, from the National Portrait Gallery, shows him in a slightly less dandy-ish pose:

In 1781 Cosway married the Anglo-Italian artist Maria Hadfield. It is far from certain that their marriage was more than a sham – he was twenty years her senior, a notorious libertine, but someone who took a keen interest in her career. He drew her on several occasions, including this lithograph.

The pair led somewhat separate lives, to the extent of travelling abroad with other partners, but when they were in London together their salon in Pall Mall became extremely fashionable. His wife was nick-named ‘the goddess of Pall Mall’. Someone else gave him the epithet of ‘the little monkey.’ Their marriage was eventually annulled.

Cosway was a close friend of the future King George IV and in 1785 was reportedly awarded the title ‘Painter to the Prince of Wales (the only person to receive the title). In his later years Cosway suffered from mental health problems, spending time in various institutions. He died in 1821. Here are a few examples of his works:

Oil painting attributed to Cosway Miniature, ‘unknown gentleman’

(With his miniatures Cosway was unusual in using transparent water colours on ivory, allowing the tone of the ivory to shine through).

He also did pencil sketches, as with this one of Emma Hamilton.

Portrait of Lady Almeria Carpenter, oil on canvas.

And finally his portrait of Mrs Joseph Smith

Happy birthday Richard, may your exquisite work never be forgotten entirely!

N.B.!!! These blogs are now to be found at a new site -  http://blog.mikerendell.com

Today marks the birth of Allan Ramsay in Scotland nearly 200 years ago.  As a twenty year old Ramsey had travelled from his native Edinburgh, first to London and then to Italy, to hone his skills as a painter.

This self-portrait is in the National Portrait Gallery.

In 1761 he was appointed Principal Painter in Ordinary to George III - a job which necessitated him painting large numbers of portraits of the monarch and his family, to present to ambassadors and other dignitaries. Sounds like a real poisoned chalice to me....

                               
King George III painted in 1762                                   Queen Charlotte, painted the same year.

His private life was not particularly happy - his first wife died in childbirth and none of their three children reached adult-hood. He re-married in 1752, his bride being one of his drawing pupils called Margaret Lindsay. They had eloped together, following opposition from her family. She died in 1782.

     Ramsay's first wife Anne                           

 and second wife Margaret.         

Ramsay suffered ill health and was forced to give up painting shortly after 1770, having shattered his right arm in an accident. He died in 1784.

I particularly like this portrait of Lady Mary Coke, with its acres of white satin.

So, let us raise a glass of Irn Bru and toast the health of  Allan Ramsay - happy birthday!

'Mrs S.' was Richard Hall's short-hand for his sister-in-law (and next door neighbour) Mrs Snooke. She lived at the Manor House at Bourton on the Water and was evidently a keen gardener. The fashion for greenhouses grew throughout the century. Earlier, in 1712,  J James had translated the Frenchman Le Blond's  "Theory & Practice of Gardening; wherein is fully handled all that relates to fine gardening, commonly called pleasure gardens". In it James explained that 'greenhouses are large Piles of buildings like Galleries... for preserving Orange Trees, and other Plants....during the Winter'. By 1754 Philip Miller had published his Gardener's Dictionary, to include a plan for a greenhouse. These would have been stone or wooden glazed structures  - the huge iron and glass masterpieces like the ones we associate with Kew Gardens were not to appear until the next century.

Richard Hall mentions making a gift to Mrs Snooke of geraniums and myrtles, but there is no other record of specific plants (except 'groundsil' - which I always thought was a weed!)

A painting entitled 'Rubens with a Geranium' by the Eighteenth century American artist Rembrandt Peale, of his brother.

It does however give me a chance to show a couple of paintings which I like, with a greenhouse theme:

                            Stanley Spencer, (English painter, 1891 – 1959) The Greenhouse 1938

The Le Blond book specifically mentions growing oranges, and certainly no country home would be complete without its orangery, but equally the fashion for growing exotica grew throughout the 1700s with an increasing awareness of the huge range of plants available to the discerning gardener. 

                         Edward John Poynter  (English painter 1836-1919) entitled 'Hot-house Flower'

We may all be familiar with the present Somerset House, in all its neo-classical finery. It was built to the 1775 design of Sir William Chambers, and constructed in the last quarter of the 18th Century, but what of the Somerset House which preceded it?

The building which was pulled down in the 1770s to make way for Chambers’ ‘place of national splendour’ was by then a sorry reminder of its bygone glories. The building had been left to deteriorate badly. It had been used as grace-and-favour apartments (where no-one had any incentive to carry out improvements or even basic repairs) and it had been a store and a barracks for the military. It is in this state that my 4xgreat grandfather would have known the site throughout the time he was living in London (1729 up until 1780 when he upped sticks and went to live in the country). But in its heyday Somerset House had been a grand palace, built in 1547 for Edward Seymour, Duke of Somerset. It contained fine renaissance gardens, separating the house from the Thames (the fountain from it now stands in Bushy Park).  

The house was of two storeys constructed around a quadrangle, and with a large and imposing three storey gatehouse. Poor Somerset never actually got to live there – he fell out of favour and was beheaded on Tower Hill in 1552. The building passed to the Crown and Princess Elizabeth lived there for some years during the reign of her half-sister Mary, before she ascended the throne in 1558.

  
A view of the sprawling Somerset House in the 1720s, at the time of the birth of Richard Hall, from a drawing by Jan Kip.

It remained a royal palace for most of the Seventeenth Century, being home to Queen Anne of Denmark (wife of James I) when it was known as Denmark House. She instituted various changes involving Inigo Jones and he continued with these alterations when Henrietta Maria, the wife of Charles I, moved in. Between 1630 and 1635 Inigo Jones had built a chapel where the Catholic queen could practice her Faith, overseen by the Capuchin Order. 

When the Civil War brought Cromwell to power a decision was made to sell the place, but no buyer could be found. Parliament therefore flogged the entire contents, raising the not inconsiderable sum of £118,000, and handed the place over as an HQ for the army. General Fairfax had his official residence there as did a number of prominent Parliamentarians. And it was to Somerset House that the body of Oliver Cromwell was taken after he died in 1658.

Come the Restoration and the place came back into royal favour. Many alterations were made, again following the designs of Inigo Jones, and the palace became the home to Catherine of Braganza, wife of Charles II. In 1685 Sir Christopher Wren was persuaded to add his sixpenn’orth to the old building by refurbishing its interior. Shortly afterwards Charles II died, and by 1692 the connection with the royal queens came to an end. As its condition deteriorated Somerset House no longer was a place of grandeur, and by the time George III came to the throne in 1760 there was no way he could persuade his consort (Queen Charlotte) to move in. She took one look at it and wisely persuaded her husband to go off and buy Buckingham House, where she could raise their multitudinous offspring in surroundings more appropriate to their status.

A view of the old Somerset House painted between 1746 and 1750 by Canaletto, shown courtesy of www.canelettogallery.org

And here is another Canaletto showing the view of the river from Somerset House...

Two hundred and thirty years ago this month a heavily laden ship edged its way out of harbour on the west African coast and headed for the Caribbean. The ship, originally known as Zorg but re-named the Zong after it was captured from the Dutch, was under the command of one Captain Luke Collingwood. The vessel belonged to a group of merchants from Liverpool headed by Messrs Gregson and Chase (both of them former mayors of that city). Over-laden and under-provisioned The Zong sailed for two months. Conditions on board were not helped by the fact that Captain Collingwood managed to get himself and his vessel lost, so the journey was longer than planned. Sickness broke out and seven of the crew died of disease.

But that is just half the picture, because 'the merchandise' on board consisted of 442 slaves, manacled and wedged into appalling conditions. 60 of them had died, and of the remainder many were sick, malnourished and liable to die before they could be sold. In any case, they were in such a poor condition that they would not fetch a good price. So on 29 November 1781 the Captain called his crew together and explained that if they did nothing, and allowed ‘the merchandise’ to die on board, the owners would lose money. But if they simply jettisoned the sick they could claim compensation from the insurers at a rate of thirty pounds a head. The justification which the ship’s owners would give to the Insurers was that there was insufficient water and provisions on board to keep the slaves alive.

And so it was that the crew seized 55 of the sick and callously threw them overboard. The next day a further 42 were drowned. At which point the ship encountered rainy weather, which topped up the reserves of water, but that did not stop the Captain ordering a further 26 sick slaves to be thrown overboard on the first day of December. Another ten slaves broke free and deliberately jumped over the side of the Zong, preferring to take their own lives in an act of defiance rather than allow the crew to make that decision for them. In all 133 people were left to drown (in fact one managed to get back on board) in the name of commercial profit. It was indeed a shameful, horrendous episode, and one which scars our reputation for justice and the Rule of Law.

Because, in the eyes of the law, it was not murder, nor even wrong-doing. The Captain was never even tried for it – the court case which followed the massacre was based upon the claim made by the owners against the insurers, who argued that as the slaves had been killed deliberately, they should not have to pay up. The insurers lost and then appealed, pointing out that far from running out of water the Zong still had 420 gallons of water on board when she finally docked in Jamaica just before Christmas.

Unbelievably, when the case went before the Court of Exchequer Lord Mansfield, the Lord Chief Justice said 'The matter left to the jury was whether it was necessary that the slaves were thrown into the sea, for they had no doubt that the case of slaves was the same as if horses had been thrown overboard.”

The words of the Solicitor General are chilling: “What is this claim that human people have been thrown overboard? This is a case of chattels or goods. Blacks are goods and property; it is madness to accuse these well-serving honourable men of murder. They acted out of necessity and in the most appropriate manner for the cause. The late Captain Collingwood acted in the interest of his ship to protect the safety of his crew. To question the judgement of an experienced well-travelled captain held in the highest regard is one of folly, especially when talking of slaves. The case is the same as if wood had been thrown overboard.”

I have read and re-read those words, of one of the country's most prominent lawyers of the day, and still find them astonishing. Not just because the slaves were denied all humanity, but because the man who sent them to their death could be held 'in the highest regard', not deserving censure of any kind. But then, it is not the first time that the Law appears to have been written to protect those with property, rather than to safeguard the rights of those who do not! 

The case provoked an outrage, the starting point of a backlash against the slave trade which resulted, 24 years later, in Parliament banning the trade. It was known not as the’ Zong Massacre’, but as the ‘Zong Affair’, because the law simply did not see the killing as unlawful, merely the right of a captain to decide what he did with his cargo.

JMW Turner Slavers throwing overboard the Dead and Dying — Typhoon coming on (The difference of course is that with the Zong there never was a typhoon coming on...)

In 1799 Richard noted down the cost ('five shillings in board') and title of a new book he wanted to buy: "A Guide to the Lakes in Cumberland, Westmoreland and Lancashire". The book was written by Thomas West, who lived between 1720 and 1779. 

           Map from West's book

In some ways it was an odd choice - Richard was a southerner through-and-through and there is no record that he ever travelled North, or that he would have found the scenery anything other than terrifying in its bleak remoteness. But West's book was in many ways the very first tourist guide to the Lakeland area. He was a Scot by birth and had at one stage been a Catholic priest. He became interested in the English Lakes and wanted to encourage artists to come and view the scenery from 'stations' which he had selected for them.

The book was published in 1778 and was a major success.Seven re-prints followed by the end of the 18th Century. The book marked the start of true tourism in the area - West maintained that the Grand Tour should rightfully include the English Lakes on the basis that they were every bit as picturesque as The Alps and other European mountain areas.

                           

Many lampooned West for his style and for his enthusiasm, as here with Thomas Rowlandson's cartoon entitled 'Dr Syntax sketching the Lake', published in 1812. The idea that painters needed to be told where to stop and what to paint may seem ridiculous today, but in his day West did every bit as much to make the Lakes accessible to the general public as Alfred Wainwright's Lakeland Guides have done for his army of followers in the 21st Century                                 

                                                  

(Post script: For me I don't think you can beat  this gloomy but majestic picture which J M W Turner painted of Buttermere Lake in 1798. Fascinating.The original is in the Tate Collection).

Today marks the birthday of one of the triumvirate of great 18th  and 19th   Century cartoonists – Thomas Rowlandson. Born on 14^th July 1756 he went on to join Gillray (and the somewhat later George Cruikshank) as a master of the art of caricature. He died in 1827.

The son of a wealthy London merchant, he had a natural  drawing ability (learning to draw before he could write). He went to Eton and studied at the Royal Academy. As a youngster he went to Paris and Italy and painted landscapes etc. but when an aunt died and left him £7000 (the equivalent of perhaps just under half a million pounds) he veered towards more dissolute pursuits, particularly gambling. He blew the fortune in next to no time but rather than go back to painting he was influenced by Gillray to try caricatures. In this he was far less political than the fiery Gillray, but he was a brilliant draughtsman who laid out his sketches first with a pen before etching the copper plate himself. It would then be aquatinted by a professional engraver. The end result was a soft almost gentle picture of life – or it was in his early days when he took more time over the process. Later his work became more hurried and less careful.

He followed various themes – along with Gillray developing the idea of John Bull as the epitome of the British people. Another theme was Dr Syntax –in search of consolation, in search of a wife etc. He also penned a series of cartoons which are eye-wateringly pornographic by modern standards. If that is your scene, go search!

 Here are some of his other works:

A self portrait from 1787 (aged 31)

 (copyright of the Lordprice collection) entitled Discomforts of an Epicure.

An engraving entitled Vaux-Hall (i.e. Vauxhall Gardens). This is a completely made-up assembly comprising a composte series of portraits published in 1784 (by which time some of the people shown were already dead!). Those featured include Dr.Johnson, Boswell, Goldsmith, and the future George IV. The central figures are Georgiana Duchess of Devonshire and her sister  Lady Duncannon.

 Thomas Rowlandson, 'Assembly with Card Players' from The Comforts of Bath, 1798 courtesy of the Victoria Gallery in Bath

The Consultation or Last Hope, published in 1808

Personally I prefer the sheer viciousness of a Gillray. His parodies were merciless and almost cruel. Rowlandson´s gentler approach seems too benign - but then, unlike Gillray perhaps he was not really interested in politics so much as human foibles.

Finally, something to link in with the diaries of Richard Hall, who was horrified at the way the government allowed the National Debt to spiral out of control. He even listed the debt for each year over a  ten year period up to 1800 (with a summary of the figures for the previous sixty years by way of comparison):

Today marks the 205th   anniversary of the death of Liverpudlian artist George Stubbs. He died aged 81 on 10^th July 1806. Best known for painting horses and dogs he was largely self-taught. His accuracy was developed from a study of the anatomy of animals spread over very many years – he dissected horses, and in a somewhat gruesome procedure drained the equine corpse of blood before injecting the veins with tallow (so that they would keep their shape). He then used a series of weights, straps and pulleys to move the cadaver into different positions, so that he could prepare drawings in life-like positions. This study of bone structure, musculature and arteries echoes earlier artists like Leonardo da Vinci, and his attention to detail was absolute.

 

 In 1766 he published The Anatomy of the Horse (the drawings are now held by the Royal Academy) and these studies won him Europe-wide acclaim. Before long he was being commissioned by the cream of the aristocracy to paint their favourite horses (and dogs) and his fortune was assured. He moved to a house in Marylebone, where he spent the rest of his life.

The Haymakers

Stubbs later announced that he wanted to be remembered as a portrait painter - but that is not what his clients wanted to hear and they continued to commission him mostly for animals, some of them in rather staged  settings.  At one point in his career Stubbs experimented in painting enamels on to ceramic plaques manufactured by Josiah Wedgwood - this is a self portrait painted in this medium in 1782 (now at the Lady Lever Art Gallery in Liverpool.

In April 2011 a Stubb's portrait of Lord Bollingbroke's stallion Gimcrack sold for over 22 million pounds. The horse was a sensation - perhaps the most famous horse of the 18th Century winning 28 out of its 36 races. No-one could accuse Stubbs of not giving value for money - the same horse is featured twice in the same picture since it also appears  in the background, leading home a trio of other horses at full gallop.

 

I must admit I have never 'warmed' to Stubbs - too many portraits of smug looking owners with their favourite animals. His style is instantly recognizable but the paintings are, well, boring. But then you see his lovely portrait of Whistlejacket and you realize what an exceptional artist he was.

Whistlejacket, painted for the 2^nd Marquess of Rockingham, and now held at the National Gallery. It was painted in 1762 and marked a famous victory of the horse at a race meeting in York two years earlier. No doubt the Marquess thought it good value – the portrait cost 60 guineas, which he could well afford since the  purse was 2000 guineas, to say nothing of the value of any side bets.