Billy Dimple

Isn’t this pair of chaps utterly glorious? Robert Dighton’s The Macaroni Painter, or Billy Dimple Sitting for his Picture, shows painter Richard Cosway posing for a portrait in all his finery! 1772, via the British Museum.

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Some Fine Georgian Sauce: Charles Townley with a Group of Connoisseurs

Richard Cosway (Tiverton, Devon, England, 5th November 1742 - London, England, 4th July 1821)

Self Portrait by Richard Cosway, 1770

It is certainly true that every painting tells a story and in the case of my subject today, the tale is a surprisingly ribald one. I am pleased to present for your enjoyment Richard Cosway's conversation piece, Charles Townley with a Group of Connoisseurs, painted between 1771-1775. Certainly, one or two of the chaps in the painting might be seen to be enjoying themselves rather too comprehensively!

The painting is, ostensibly, a depiction of the conoisseur and collector, Charles Townley, and a group of friends (identified by Dr Viccy Coltman as as Richard Oliver, Dr Verdun, Chase Price (sitting), Richard Holt and Captain Wynn) admiring some of the marbles held in Townley's extensive collection. At first glance there is nothing to set this apart from other conversation pieces and yet, if we look closer, Cosway is playing a rather saucy trick on both subject and viewer.

Whilst Townley looks away fro, the marble goddesses who are presented naked before the group, his companions look on admiringly, every gaze focused on the rather well-realised buttocks of the statue to the left. Indeed, in Price's case, he uses his glass to get an even better look at the shapely form before him. The atmosphere is apparently rarefied, one of men of breeding and expertise admiring a work and yet, it would appear, Oliver and Price are particularly enthusiastic, their hands rather pointedly tucked into their breeches for goodness knows what purpose, whilst one can only imagine what Holt and Wynn's apparent horseplay might lead to!

It is a subtle yet pointed depiction of very genteel, very Georgian misbehaviour; not quite blink and you'll miss it but rather, don't let the respectability of these gentlemen fool you - their academic appreciation is not quite so dry as it might first appear!

The Marriage of George, Prince of Wales, and Princess Caroline of Brunswick

Today marks the anniversary anniversary of a far from happy royal marriage. Unlike the harmonious match of my rakish colonial gentleman and I, the relationship between George, Prince of Wales, and Princess Caroline of Brunswick, was tempestuous and unhappy. In fact, from the wedding night onwards, it was far from a match made in heaven.

On 8th April 1795, George, Prince of Wales, and Princess Caroline of Brunswick gathered in the Chapel Royal of St James's Palace. The couple were first cousins and though neither was particularly keen on the prospect of the marriage. Certainly there was no question of love between the participants, yet both agreed to the ceremony, though for very different reasons.

George, Prince of Wales by Richard Cosway, 1792

For George, the wedding was a matter of necessity. If he did not agree to the marriage then his father, George III, left his son in no doubt that he would not settle his constantly mounting gambling debts. His heart was with another though, and he had already illegally married Maria Fitzherbert though she was far from his only entanglement. For Caroline's part, the marriage was a matter of dynastic necessity and a chance to unite her small land of Brunswick with the powerful British nation. Although she had no great affection for the Prince she hoped that their relationship might at least be a companionate one that could, with time, grow into something more.

It was not to be. From their first meeting it was obvious that the couple were ill-suited; George ungallantly complained that Caroline made him feel unwell and the lady lamented that her husband-to-be was "not at all like his portrait". Still, the deal was done and the match made. To add further insult to injury, George established Frances, Countess of Jersey, as his fiancé's Lady of the Bedchamber; she was also the Prince's mistress and she would not make Caroline's life in England easy.

Caroline of Brunswick by James Tookey, after Friedrich Schroeder, 1795

At the wedding Caroline was resplendent in silver and ermine whilst George was in his cups. Drunk to the point of confusion, he tottered before the officiating Archbishop of Canterbury and had to be held up by his groomsmen. Things did not improve as the newlyweds retired to their wedding night bedchamber, where George passed out in a drunken stupor and spent the night on the floor.

It was an inauspicious start to a disastrous marriage. Just months after the birth of their only child, Princess Charlotte, the following year, George cut his wife out of his life and from that day, the couple would never reconcile.

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Debauchery, Scandal and Collapsing Abbeys: William Beckford

William Thomas Beckford (London, England, 1st October 1760 – Bath, Somerset, England, 2nd May 1844)

William Beckford  by George Romney, 1782

It is an absolute pleasure to welcome a true English eccentric today in the shape of millionaire  politician, writer, builder and consummate collector, William Beckford. The Fool of Fonthill assembled one of the finest art collections in Europe and was responsible for magnificent architecture and Gothic fiction alike, living high on the hog and surrounded by scandal in the long 18th century.

Beckford was born to Maria Hamilton and William "Alderman" Beckford, twice Lord Mayor of London and a man who had made a vast fortune from Jamaican plantations. The family lived at 22 Soho Square and when the Alderman died in 1770, the 10 year old Beckford inherited £1million and land and property in England and Jamaica. The young man enjoyed an extensive and privileged education, briefly tutored in music by a certain Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, but without the late Alderman Beckford's influence his son drifted from his father's political interests, learning instead the pleasures of being one of the richest gentlemen in the kingdom.

In 1782 Beckford undertook his Grand Tour and published his first book, Dreams, Waking Thoughts and Incidents. Returning to England, on 5th May 1783 he married Lady Margaret Gordon but his heart rested elsewhere, with William Courtenay, the future Earl of Devon. Beckford and Courtenay had first met in 1779 when the latter was just 10 years old and their relationship apparently grew beyond friendship as the years passed. Despite his ambivalence towards politics, in 1784 Beckford followed the path of the monied landowner and became Member of Parliament for Wells, though this was to be nothing compared to another, fateful occurrence that happened that same year.

With his liaison with Courtenay in full swing, Beckford was engulfed by scandal in 1784 when Courtenay's uncle, Alexander Wedderburn, Lord Loughborough, claimed to have discovered explicit love letters between Beckford and the boy. Outraged, Loughborough took his story to the newspapers and Beckford and Kitty, as he termed Courtenay, found their rumoured assignation splashed across the front pages. For months Beckford refused to be cowed, taking up residence with Margaret at Fonthill Splendens, his seat in Wiltshire, clinging to his parliamentary seat despite pressure to resign. Finally though, the Beckfords travelled in fine style to the continent, accompanied by a magnificent entourage befitting a man of wealth. Margaret and Beckford enjoyed a loving and devoted marriage and would eventually have two children before Margaret died in Switzerland, plunging her widower into despair.

William Courtenay by Richard Cosway, 1793

Grieving for his late wife, Beckford travelled throughout Europe and in 1786 published Vathek, his most famous work and one that he had first conceived of early in the decade. This gothic novel tells the tale of a hedonistic Caliph who descends into debauchery and sin in his search for ever more decadent thrills. Written in French, Beckford claimed that he completed the notorious novel in just three days and two nights and upon its publication the novel became hugely successful. Though Beckford would write other works, none were as popular nor as famed and the book enjoyed enormous popularity in England throughout his decade-long exile. Whilst on the continent Beckford began to amass what would become a priceless and eclectic collection of art, including porcelain and paintings.

Without Margeret's company Beckford grew tired of life in Europe and resolved to return to England. Once again he took sanctuary at Fonthill where he went into seclusion, surrounding the estate with an enormous wall. What went on behind this fortress-like boundary had the gossips of England chattering like there was no tomorrow, whispering of scandalous orgies, an all-male harem and enough debauchery to make your eyes water. For all the gossip though, one thing we can be sure of is that Beckford was spending a lot of time thinking about architecture. Calling in architect James Wyatt, Beckford laid out plans for a magnificent Gothic cathedral that would be his home, Fonthill Abbey.

In fact Wyatt was far from single-minded when working on the project and was frequently absent, occupied instead with women and wine. Understandably displeased with his architect's behaviour, Beckford found himself fulfilling the roles of foreman and manager and eventually came to delight in these opportunities. Beckford lavished tens of thousands of pounds on the Abbey yet the project was beset with difficulties, the most serious coming when the 330 foot tall Abbey tower collapsed twice. Despite the catastrophes, in 1813 Fonthill Abbey was finished and Beckford took up a secluded residence, becoming increasingly eccentric as the years wore on. 

From John Rutter's Delineations of Fonthill and its Abbey, 1823

By now Member of Parliament for Hindon, Beckford had spent extravagantly whilst allowing his inherited business interests to wither and fail. Legal actions in 1822 forced the sale of two of his Jamaican plantations for a relatively small sum and with a heavy heart Beckford put Fonthill Abbey up for sale, the auction of its contents causing a flurry of excitement throughout the country. In fact, only three years after the sale, the tower at Fonthill collapsed again and the decision was taken to demolish the Fool of Fonthill's folly, leaving only a small piece of the building standing. 

Putting the disappointment of Fonthill behind him, Beckford took up residence in Bath though once again he turned his mind to building and had Henry Goodridge design and build Lansdown Tower, which stands to this day. He lived on in Bath until his death when he was buried in Bath Abbey Cemetery before being reinterred in a magnificent tomb of his own design very close to the Tower, the marble inscribed with extracts from his work. Though much of his collection had been sold during his lifetime, the remainder passed to his daughters, Susanna Euphemia and Margaret Maria Elizabeth.

Landsdown (now Beckford's) Tower

It may be that Beckford, with his ego, profligacy and eccentric ways, was not the most sympathetic chap we have ever met yet his life was one of constant drama and extravagance. We can never know the truth behind his scandalous relationship with Courtenay nor the reality of what went on behind the walls of Fontwell but Beckford remains a true character of the era, the Fool of Fontwell as fascinating today as he ever was.

Debt, Debauchery and Decadence: King George IV

George Augustus Frederick (London, England, 12th August 1762 – Windsor, England, 26th June 1830) 

King George IV by Sir Thomas Lawrence, 1816

It's no secret that we Gilflurts like a bit of extravagance and today we'll meet a man who knew what opulence was all about. Given the popularity of his Coronation, it seemed only right that we revisit King George IV, affectionately known to we Gin Laners as Prinny, and wish him a very happy birthday!

Before the caricatures and the debts and the women, George was born as the oldest of George III and Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz's fifteen children. From the moment of his birth at St James's Palace the young Prince of Wales would know the best of everything and by the time the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Secker, baptised him, he was already Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall, Duke of Rothesay and Earl of Chester.

King George IV by Richard Cosway

Whereas his father had relatively modest tastes, George developed a taste for the finer things in life and, even as his subjects endured poverty, the young prince's habits grew more and more profligate. At the age of 21 he moved into Carlton House with a £60,000 living grant from Parliament and an income of £50,000 courtesy of the King and set up home for himself, beginning what would be a wild and extravagant time. With a third of his money ploughed into his stables alone, the Prince lived as though cash was no object, throwing enormous parties, gambling and, of course, entertaining ladies. His father was mortified by the behaviour of the heir to the throne and the Prince surrounded himself with hangers-on who bowed to his every wish whilst at the same time using him to further their own influence.

Not long after he began to live his independent life, George met the twice-widowed Roman Catholic, Maria Fitzherbert and decided there and then that this would be the woman he would marry. In fact, the 1701 Act of Settlement ruled that no heir to the throne could be crowned if married to a Roman Catholic and the 1772 Royal Marriages Act prohibited any marriage without the consent of the King, but Prinny was not one to let such things stand in his way. He pursued Mrs Fitzherbert tirelessly, beginning the tradition of the lover's eye into the bargain. 

In fact, the lady concerned was considerably less enthused by the whole idea for a good long while but George's wit and charm paid off in the end and on 15th December 1785, an illegal marriage took place in the bride's home at Park Street, Mayfair. The marriage was not legally binding and all involved parties were sworn to secrecy; though the Prince and Mrs Fitzherbert's love affair would prove a rocky one, she always considered herself his true wife.

Maria Fitzherbert by Sir Joshua Reynolds

In fact, the secret wedding was soon anything but as, utterly drowning in debt, George left Carlton House in 1787 and moved into Park Street whilst trying to negotiate a further financial grant from Parliament. Despite the King's distaste at his son's close ties to Charles James Fox, the Whig leader brokered a deal with the Prince, securing him the money he needed in return for a public denial of the marriage to the Catholic widow. In dire straits, George agreed and though the public denial was rewritten in less stark terms by Richard Brinsley Sheridan, the damage was done. Mrs Fitzherbert was furious at what she saw as a betrayal and was very likely glad to put some space between herself and her lover, who moved back into Carlton House nearly £170,000 better off. 

All of this was, of course, a public relations disaster and he sank in the public's affection to a new low. In 1788 as the King grew increasingly mentally disturbed, Parliament found itself stuck in something of a vicious circle; King George was too ill to deliver his State Opening Speech and yet the Commons could not officially sit until the speech had been given. With the King showing no sign of recovery, the Members of Parliament met to discuss the possibility of establishing a Regency. Although a Regency Bill was created by Pitt, the King recovered before it was passed and the Prince's first opportunity for power slipped away.

Caroline of Brunswick by James Lonsdale, 1821

Despite his enormous payout in 1787, George was soon spending beyond his means again and this time, the conditions of the bail out went even further. Financial aid would be forthcoming once more, but only if  George would consent to marry his cousin, Princess Caroline of Brunswick. With no other likely options and his debts mounting, George agreed and the wedding took place on 8th April 1795. The pair hated one another almost from the outset and once their child, Charlotte was born, they parted company within a year of their wedding day. Besides, George had little time for a wife, he was kept busy with his many mistresses and the illegitimate children they bore him, let alone building up piles of new debt!

Princess Charlotte by George Dawe, 1817

George's life remained one of extravagance, debt and scandal and he became a figure of fun in England, thought things must have seemed slightly less amusing when, in 1810, the King fell ill again. This time the groundwork had already been laid two decades earlier and the Regency Act was passed in 1811, with the Prince of Wales now being known as the Prince Regent. The Regent's once left-wing political interests were moving increasingly to the right and he fell under the influence of ambitious ministers who guided the country through the Napoleonic Wars, among other notable events. When the Prince did directly involve himself in politics the outcomes were not always favourable, such as his disastrous attempts to assemble an all party government. Far more to our hero's liking were aesthetic pursuits and he considered himself a leader of fashion, championing much of the Regency clothing and building style that we recognise today.

Brighton Pavilion

Working with John Nash, George presided over architectural developments including Regent Street and the famous Brighton Pavilion, which reflect perfectly his own taste for grand and exotic styles. As the years passed the once handsome young man grew corpulent, caricatured as a crass, indulgent boor; he developed a taste for drink and laudanum that caused his health to deteriorate even as his extravagant lifestyle continued unabated. Although little liked by the public, when George III died in 1820 the Regent's magnificent Coronation ushered in a new sense of patriotism among the people of England and he enjoyed a period of affection from his subjects. The public had long been sympathetic to his estranged wife, yet her efforts to enter Westminster Abbey and be crowned alongside her husband were to prove a public relations disaster and the crowd turned on her, leaving her humiliated. Retiring to her home in despair, she was dead within a month.

Loyal Addresses and Radical Petitions by George Cruikshank, 1819

The new King retired to Windsor Castle, his love of parties and socialising giving way to an interest in political matters, though he continued to correspond with Mrs Fitzherbert even as he supported anti-Catholic measures in parliament. His health continued to fail and by the age of 60, he was wearing corsets intended to confine a 50-inch waist, his weight ballooning out of control. He died in the early hours of 26th June 1830 and his last words, reported by the friend who was with him at the moment of his demise were, "my boy, this is death." He was buried at Windsor wearing the eye miniature Mrs Fitzherbert had sent him during their courtship and she died 8 years later, still maintaining that she was the first and rightful wife of the late King.

King George IV by Sir Thomas Lawrence, 1822

George's only child, Princess Charlotte, predeceased her father by 13 years and the next heir to the throne, Prince Frederick, predeceased him by three years so the crown was taken by William, Duke of Clarence. England had seen its last King George and William IV took his place on the throne. In death George was mocked and loathed as he had been for so much of his life with The Times reporting his death and asking, "What eye has wept for him? What heart has heaved one throb of unmercenary sorrow? ". For all his failings as a man, and they were numerous, one cannot deny that Prinny had an eye for the aesthetic and was, by all accounts, a witty, charming and intelligent man. His influence on the style and architecture of the Regency era is unquestionable; indeed, Buckingham Palace owes its appearance to his sense of design. He was a man of contradictions and one who was not easy to like but he continues to fascinate and frustrate today - happy birthday Prinny!

Life in the Georgian Court, true tales of 18th century royalty, is available at the links below.

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In Honour of Richard Cosway... Eye Miniatures

A fake lovers' eye created from a cracked miniature on ivory that has been rescued as 'an Eye' and painted with sky/clouds Cosway-style. (thanks to Lucy Inglis!)

Today marks the anniversary of the death of Richard Cosway, celebrated miniaturist. That set me thinking about Cosway's business and the tradition of eye miniatures, the romantic, hopefully anonymous, token of Georgian love.

We Georgians loved our eye miniatures (or lovers' eyes, as someone more recently termed them). A tiny painting depicting the eye of the gift-giver, these tokens were usually awarded to a lover or other object of affection when both parties wished to keep their liaison secret. More often than not the medium chosen was watercolour on ivory and they were given as rings, lockets (with a lock of hair, nice touch!) or whatever item of jewellery tickled your fancy. If you were willing to splash out, an artist of the calibre of Cosway could do you something particularly special and you would enjoy the added benefit of showing off the size of your purse into the bargain.

Intimate, romantic and expensive, an eye miniature was a declaration of adoration, as one of our Georgian monarchs surely understood.

An 18th century eye,  part of the V&A Collection

It might not surprise you to know that the tradition of the eye miniature is believed to have started with my old mucker, the Prince of Wales, long before he became King George IV. We Gilflurt women could tell many a tale of the Hanovers but it wasn't one of us who received the eye - that dubious honour went to Maria Fitzherbert. After a somewhat tumultuous courtship, George sent Maria a Cosway miniature of his eye and it certainly did the trick - they married in a clandestine ceremony on 15th December 1785.

Though George Engleheart was painting eye miniatures as early as 1775, it was George's gesture that made them fashionable (he never could keep a secret) and soon they were very much the done thing. You won't see them in portraits of the era though - they were far too scandalous for that!

Richard Cosway in a 1770 self portrait

Maria Fitzherbert by Sir Joshua Reynolds, 1788

Life in the Georgian Court, true tales of 18th century royalty, is available at the links below.

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