“Henry Long for a large vase of earth (terra-cotta) wrought with handles and festoons painted with gilt £6 10s.”
THIS forms the entrance by which the public are admitted into the State Rooms. Built by Sir Christopher Wren for Queen Mary on the “Queen’s Side” of the Palace, it was called the “Queen’s Staircase,” while being situated in that part of the Palace which was at one time occupied by Queen Anne and her husband, Prince George of Denmark, it has also been occasionally known as the “Denmark Staircase,” as this portion of the building itself has been called the “Denmark Wing.”
In the view of the ordinary Londoner, with eye too much dazzled and demoralized by the tawdry vulgarities of the over-gilded, over-looking-glassed, blazing, modern “Restaurant” style of decoration, this beautiful staircase, in its just proportions and its subdued simplicity, may appear plain, if not mean.
Yet as an example of the genuine, unaffected old English treatment of oak wainscoting, as a cover and ornament to large wall spaces, nothing could be more pleasing and more appropriate. The deep rich, almost ruddy, tone of colour of the wood, the admirable proportion and balance of the stiles and rails to the sizes of the panels, their adjustment to the rise of the stairs, and their fitment to the various spaces on the walls, produce an effect of soundness and comfort, most admirable and nowhere to be matched.
Old Oak Wainscoting of the Staircase.
WHEN the work of cleaning down this woodwork was taken in hand last autumn, it was, as the phrase is, “as black as your hat;” and it was then supposed to have been smeared over, at some time or other, with a black stain. It proved, however, to be only ingrained with dirt and dust, which had been coated over with red-lead and boiled oil, and which quickly yielded to cleansing.
Nevertheless, the oak is not English, but probably Norwegian, which seems to be richer in the grain than our own native tree. It is clear that the wood must have been carefully cut in such a way as to show as much “figure” as possible—the cuttings being, with this distinct object, as nearly as possible radiating from the centre of the trunk of the tree—the “medullary rays” of the wood being, in fact, sliced through, instead of intersected transversely. This has the effect of displaying the largest amount of the grain.
Window Sashes of the Staircase.
THE visitor should notice the difference in the sashes of the two windows on the left-hand side of the stairs as you go up, as compared with the other two on the landing at the top. The first two windows have had large panes of glass—2 feet 1 inch high by 1 foot 2½ inches wide—and thin bars, substituted for the original smaller panes—12½ inches high by 9½ inches wide—and the thick moulded bars, which still remain in the landing windows. This side by side comparison enables us to estimate how deplorable and stupid was the want of taste, which led to the destruction here, as elsewhere in this Palace, of the picturesque, well-proportioned spacings of the window panes, to insert instead ill-proportioned panes and thin bars.
Not until the time of George II. did this foolish, inartistic fancy come into vogue. Wren, of course, knew what he was about when he selected the sizes of the spaces and bars. He determined them on definite principles of scale and proportion, according to the sashes they were intended to fill, and according, also, to the dimensions of the room, and the plan and shape of the surrounding wainscot. He had, in fact, eight or ten different types of sashes—the mouldings, as well as the widths and sizes of the bars varying, and the shapes of the panes—square or upright—varying also; not like your ingenious modern builder, who runs out “mouldings” at so much a foot, mitres them up into equal spaces, and, regardless of scale and proportion, sticks in the same sized sashes, panes, and bars everywhere, in large lofty rooms or small low ones—all alike.
The dimensions of this staircase are 24 feet 3 inches long by 22 feet 10 inches wide, and 25 feet high.
QUEEN MARY and Queen Anne are the sovereigns with whom this gallery is mainly associated; and indeed, it is now—since the restorations of the last twelve months, which have mainly consisted in repairing the panelling, and removing the paint with which it was all smeared over in the reign of George I.—to be seen for the first time for a hundred and seventy-four years, exactly as it appeared in their time. It remains, indeed, more intact than any other room in the Palace; and with its beautiful deep-toned oak panelling, its richly-carved cornice, its low-coved ceiling, and its closely-spaced, thick-barred window-sashes, it has a most comfortable, old-fashioned air.
There is no storey above this gallery, but only a span roof; and it was originally—we do not know exactly when—a true “gallery” in the old English meaning of the word, that is, a long chamber with windows on both sides. The window spaces or recesses, on the right or west side, still remain behind the panelling, and are exactly opposite the existent windows on the left or east side. We may observe, also, that the room seems at one time to have terminated just beyond the sixth window, reckoning from the entrance, the line of the wall behind the wainscot on the right, setting back at this point about a foot; while on the left side, both inside and out, there is a straight joint in the brickwork, and a break in the line of the wall.
Wainscoting and Carvings of Queen Mary’s Gallery.
The wainscoting, as we have already indicated, was fixed here in the early years of the reign of Queen Mary. The panels, which are very thin and of unusual breadth, nevertheless have remained but little twisted or buckled to this day, owing to Wren’s particular and invariable insistence that only the best seasoned wood should be used in all the work under his charge. In the course of the restorations, it has, however, been necessary to take it all to pieces in order to repair the injuries of nearly two centuries of misusage and neglect. Here, as in the staircase, are to be noticed the extreme richness in grain of the old oak, and its deep warm tone of colour.
From the old enrolled parchment accounts of the years 1689-1691, we find that Henry Hobb and Alexander Forst were the joiners who made the wainscoting, as well as the “shashes,” shutters, window-boards, chimney-pieces, picture frames, shelves, etc.; while Nicolas Alcocke, William Emet, and Grinling Gibbons carved “1,405 feet Ionick medallion and hollow cornish; 942 feet of picture frame over the doors and chimneys, and 89 feet of astragall moulding, about the glasses in the chimneys.” Another item of payment in the same accounts, also relating to the work here, is the following:
“To Gerard Johnson, Cabinet maker, for severall pannells of wainscot, covered with looking-glass for chimney pieces in the King’s dining-roome, the gallerie, and over the doors, and for putting them up—£100.”
Among others here referred to were doubtless the looking-glasses over the two chimney-pieces in this gallery. These are particularly fine and worthy of notice. When the restorations were begun last summer, they were literally dropping to pieces, falling in shreds, we might say. The greatest care has been taken to piece the bits together; and to replace the missing portions. Only such patched and added parts have been regilt; the old gilding still remaining almost as bright and untarnished as when these glasses were first put up, two hundred years ago, by Gerard Johnson, cabinet maker, and Robert Streeter, serjeant painter. Honour to their names, as two good old English handicraftsmen, whose honest work thus survives to this day!
Over each of the four doors are long richly-carved brackets of oak, similar to those on which rest the looking-glasses over the chimney-pieces. We know from Pyne’s drawing in 1818, that these brackets over the doors then still supported looking-glasses, with richly carved frames. Unfortunately, all trace of them has now disappeared.
The chimney-piece of the first fire-place on the right as you enter the gallery is the original one of Wren’s design, of marble streaked and veined blue-grey. The second, of white marble streaked with red, technically known as “Breche-violett-antico,” is new—copied from the first. This fire-place was, until last summer, filled with a common cooking range, inserted many years ago for the use of the soldiers, when this gallery was used as a barrack!
The window-sashes in this gallery are of the charming old-fashioned type, divided by thick, deeply moulded bars, into small rectangular spaces. Through these windows we have a pleasant view eastward of the private gardens of the Palace, and of Kensington Gardens beyond.
The dimensions of this gallery are: 88 feet 4 inches long by 22 feet broad by 13 feet 3½ inches high to the top of the cornice, and 17 feet 13 inches high to the highest part of the ceiling.
Pictures in Queen Mary’s Gallery. Portraits of the Time of William and Mary to George II.
1 Queen Mary . . . . . Kneller.
Full-length, standing, in royal robes; her left hand lifting her ermine cloak; her right holding the orb on the table by her side, on which also is the crown on a cushion. In the right distance is seen the parapet of the roof of Wren’s building at Hampton Court.
This and its companion piece of King William, at the other end of this gallery, were painted by Kneller about 1692, in which year he was knighted.
2 George II. (718) . . . . . By Shackleton, after Kneller.
Seated, in robes of the Garter, facing to the left.
3 Unassigned.
4 Frederick, Prince of Wales (619) . . . . . Vanloo.
Full-length, face turned to the right. His right hand is extended, his left holds back his crimson and ermine cloak. His dress is blue with rich gold lace. He has a short wig. On canvas, 7 ft. 9 in. high, by 4 ft. 9 in. wide.
Vanloo came to England in 1737, and this portrait was probably painted about two years after. He became a very popular artist, and made a great deal of money, for, as his French biographer observes:—“L’Angleterre est le pays où il se fait le plus de portraits et où ils sont mieux payés.” Engraved by Baron.
This picture, therefore, dates from the time when the Prince was about thirty-one years of age, and had been expelled from St. James’s Palace, and was in declared enmity with his father. His insignificant character, which excited contempt rather than dislike, is very happily satirized in the famous epitaph:
5 Unassigned.
6 Caroline, Queen of George II. (784) . . . . . Zeeman?
Full-length, standing, figure to the left, face a little to the right. Her left hand holds up her cloak, her right is on a table, on which is a crown and sceptre. She wears a blue velvet dress trimmed with broad gold braid, and a white satin skirt, richly worked with gold and jewels. Her hair is short and powdered. On canvas, 7 ft. 9 in. high, by 4 ft. 9 in. wide.
This was formerly attributed to Kneller, but it cannot be by him, as she is represented as queen, while Kneller died four years before her accession. Caroline was forty-five when her husband became king.
“Her levées,” says Coxes, “were a strange picture of the motley character and manners of a queen and a learned woman. She received company while she was at her toilette; prayers and sometimes a sermon were read; learned men and divines were intermixed with courtiers and ladies of the household; the conversation turned on metaphysical subjects, blended with repartees, sallies of mirth, and the tittle-tattle of a drawing-room.”
7 Unassigned.
8 Portrait of George I. (782). . . . . Kneller.
Seated, facing in front. He is in the robes of the Order of the Garter. His left hand on the arm of the chair, his right on a table, whereon are a crown and a plumed helmet. On canvas, 7 ft. 9 in. high, by 4 ft. 9 in. wide.
George I. was the tenth sovereign who sat to Kneller, and for this portrait, which was painted soon after his accession, the king made him baronet. Addison refers to it in his “Lines to Sir Godfrey Kneller on his picture of the King,” beginning:
9 William III. when Prince of Orange (864). . . . . Kneller.
Half-length, facing to the right, with his right hand extended.
10 George II. in his Old Age (598) . . . . . By Shackleton, after Pine.
Full-length; in a rich dress, with the Order of the Garter, his left hand on his sword, his right in his bosom. His eyes are cast upwards.
11 Peter the Great, Czar of Russia (60). . . . . Kneller.
Full-length, in armour, with a truncheon in his left hand, and his right hand on his hip. From his shoulders hangs a mantle lined with ermine and embroidered with the double eagle. To the left is a table, on which is the crown imperial. The background, which shows some ships, is said to be signed by W. Vandevelde, but no trace of this exists. On canvas, 7 ft. 9 in. high, by 4 ft. 9 in. wide. There is also an inscription, of which I can only make out the words: “Petrus Alexander Magnus Domimus Cæsar & Magnus Dux Moscouiæ ... Eques. Pinxit 1698.” Engraved by Smith.
This picture was painted for William III. during Peter the Great’s visit to England, in the early part of 1698, and probably in the house in Norfolk Street, where he took up his residence and lived in close seclusion. It is considered one of the best portraits of the Czar extant, and well portrays “his stately form, his intellectual forehead, his piercing black eyes, and his Tartar nose and mouth.” His age was then twenty-six years. He naturally excited the greatest curiosity, and became the principal topic of conversation. Every one was full of stories of him; “of the immense quantities of meat which he devoured, the pints of brandy which he drank, the fool who jabbered at his feet, the monkey which grinned at the back of his chair,” and last, but not least, of his filthy habits. When he went to stay at Evelyn’s house, Sayes Court, at Deptford, in order to more conveniently indulge in his favourite pursuit of shipbuilding, Evelyn’s servant writes to him:—“There is a house full of people, and right nasty. The Czar lies next your Library, and dines in the parlour next your study. He dines at ten o’clock and six at night, is very seldom home a whole day, very often in the King’s Yard or by water, dressed in several dresses.” Evelyn himself afterwards remarked “how miserably the Czar had left his house, after three months making it his Court.”
Peter visited King William in Kensington Palace, as we have noted in our “Historical Sketch,” and as we shall notice again in our account of the King’s Gallery.
12 King William III . . . . . . Kneller.
Full-length, in royal garter robes; his left hand by his sword, his right on his hip. The crown and orb are on a table on his left; pillars and a curtain behind.
This is a companion piece to the portrait of Queen Mary at the other end of this gallery.
13 Portrait of Mrs. Elliott . . . . . John Riley.
Half-length, seated; turned to the left, but facing in front. She is dressed in black; her right hand rests on the arm of the chair; she holds a handkerchief on her lap in her left.
This was in Queen Anne’s catalogue, No. 331:—“Mrs. Elliott at half-length.” It is a good specimen of a portrait-painter who flourished in the time of Charles II. and James II., and whose talents have hardly had justice done them.
Mrs. Elliott was the wife of Mr. Elliott, Gentleman of the Bedchamber to Charles II., and sister to Secretary Craggs.
14 Two Daughters of George II . . . . . . Maingaud.
The eldest is to the left, standing, her right arm clasping a stem of tree, round which twines a vine; her left hand giving a rose to her younger sister; she is dressed in white. Her sister is kneeling to the right, facing in front, and takes the rose with her left hand; her right rests on a lictor’s fasces. On canvas, 4 ft. 6 in. high, by 3 ft. 7 in. wide.
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This small room, which is but 23 feet 3 inches long by 12 feet wide, and 12 feet 9 inches high, is called in Pyne’s drawing, published in 1817, “The Queen’s Closet,”—and this most probably is its correct designation, though in Faulkner’s “History of Kensington,” published but three years after, it is described as the “Queen’s Dressing Room.” Its walls were at that time still entirely panelled with the oak wainscot with which Wren had covered them. Afterwards all this was removed and the walls plastered and distempered, the room being used as a kitchen. The existent oak chair-rail and cornice, inserted during the last few months, are copied from old models in this palace.
Across the angle, where was originally the fire-place, is temporarily fixed a very beautiful stone chimney-piece, formerly in Westminster Palace, in one of the rooms on the north side of Westminster Hall. When the old law-courts on that side were removed, this chimney-piece was preserved by the Office of Works. It is one of the finest specimens extant of a late Tudor domestic chimney-piece work, bearing the initial and crown of Queen Elizabeth.
Pictures of Old London.
IN this chamber are collected various pictures of Old London, moved from Hampton Court and other royal palaces. Few of them, excepting one or two attributed to Scott, have much artistic merit, but they are interesting as representations of the topography of London, and especially of the banks of the Thames.
20 View of the Horse Guards from St. James’s Park (1022). . . . . James.
The buildings of the Horse Guards are seen on the right, and in the centre distance, Westminster.
21 View on the Thames—Old London Bridge and Fishmongers’ Hall (1044). . . . . James.
The view is taken eastward; and right across the picture is the old bridge, with the houses built on it. On the left are Fishmongers’ Hall and the column on Fish Street Hill.
These are two of a series of views of Old London from the Thames, by William James, an imitator and probably a pupil of Canaletti’s, though he resembles him in little except his mechanical precision. His works, however, are interesting to the antiquarian, as they are almost photographic in their accuracy.
22 View on the Thames—Old Somerset House and Temple Gardens (1023). . . . . James.
The north bank of the Thames is seen, looking eastward, from about the position of the middle of the present Waterloo bridge. On the extreme left is old Somerset House, with its landing-stairs, next comes the Temple, and in the distance St. Paul’s. Behind are seen the spires of St. Mary-le-Strand, St. Clement Danes, St. Bride’s, Fleet Street, etc. On canvas, 2 ft. high, by 3 ft. 8 in. wide.
23 View on the Thames—The Savoy, the Temple, &c. (1031). . . . . James.
On the left is the old Savoy Palace with its curious chequered brickwork; more in the middle old Somerset House, the Temple, etc. On the right is seen a portion of the south bank of the Thames.
24 View on the Thames—Old Fleet Ditch (1043). . . . . James.
The mouth of the Fleet Ditch is in the centre of the picture, crossed by a stone foot-bridge of a single arch. On both sides of it are large buildings.
25 View on the Thames—The Adelphi, Whitehall, and Westminster (1032). . . . . James.
The view is of the north bank looking westward, and shows, on the right, Inigo Jones’ water-gate; next the octagonal tower of the waterworks, then Whitehall, and beyond, Westminster Abbey and the old bridge.
26 View on the Thames—Greenwich Hospital (1079). . . . . James.
The view is taken eastward, and shows Greenwich Hospital on the left, and the church to the right.
27 View on the Thames—Old Savoy Palace (1045). . . . . Scott?
The view is the same as No. 23. In an old inventory there is an entry relating to it:—“Recd. 23rd March 1819. View of the Savoy, with old Somerset House, on the banks of the Thames, painted by Scott, the English Canaletti. Bought of Colnaghi, £265.” Samuel Scott, the marine painter, is the artist referred to. He was a companion of Hogarth’s, and a jovial one too—but he was also much more, being an admirable painter of marine and topographical subjects. There are three characteristic views of London by him in the National Gallery, where is also his own portrait by Hudson.
28 The Thames from the Hill above Greenwich (1016). . . . . Danckers.
To the left is the Observatory rising high up. Below is Greenwich and the Hospital, and the river winding round the “Isle of Dogs,” and London seen in the distance. Though hitherto unnamed, this is doubtless:—“The Landscape of Greenwich, the prospect to London; by Danckers,” in James II.’s catalogue, No. 195. (Royal Catalogue.)
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Queen Anne’s Private Dining Room.
This picturesque little room remains almost exactly in the same state as it was when finished about 1690 for Queen Mary, who, perhaps, as well as Queen Anne, used it as a private dining room. It is, indeed, a very characteristic example of one of Wren’s comfortable and eminently habitable rooms. The protruding doorway in the right-hand corner, the picturesque recess on the left-hand side of the fireplace, and the porch-like treatment of the similar recess on the other side—where is the doorway into the Queen’s Closet—all show how the accidents of construction and convenience may be so judiciously laid hold of, as to render what would otherwise have been a mere uninteresting commonplace room, a charmingly homelike and picturesque one. Such an example as this of Wren’s artistic adaptability should be a most valuable “object-lesson” to modern builders, who, when not planning exactly rectangular rooms, go to the other extreme of straining after a designed and artificial “quaintness.”
The coved ceiling, rising from behind the oak cornice, adds greatly to the apparent height of the room.
The dimensions are: 17 feet 9 inches long by 14 feet wide.
It was in this and the similar adjoining rooms that took place those many curious intimate conversations between Queen Anne and the Duchess of Marlborough, both when “Mrs. Morley” and her “dear Mrs. Freeman,” were all in all to each other, and also when “Atossa” vainly endeavoured by fury, invective, and torrents of reproaches and tears, to regain her fast-waning influence over the dull and feeble, but stolid and obstinate, mind of the Queen. It was at Kensington Palace too, and perhaps in this very room, that took place their famous interview, one April afternoon in the year 1710, when the only reply which the great Duchess Sarah could get to her inquiring entreaties was the phrase “You desired no answer and you shall have none,”—reiterated with exasperating and callous monotony by her whilom friend and mistress.
Pictures in Queen Anne’s Private Dining Room.
40 Installation of Knights of the Garter at Kensington Palace, on August 4th, 1713, by Queen Anne . . . . . Peter Angelis.
There has been some question as to the exact ceremony, which is depicted here, but there can be but little doubt that it represents the Chapter of the Order of the Garter, held by Queen Anne at Kensington Palace on August 4th, 1713, when Henry Grey, Duke of Kent, Robert Harley, first Earl of Oxford, Charles Mordaunt, third Earl of Peterborough, and John, Earl Poulett, were installed as Knights of the Garter. The chapter was the last held by Queen Anne, and was held at Kensington, and not at Windsor, owing to her physical infirmities. Two of these noblemen kneel on the lowest step of the throne, and have already been invested with the mantle and collar of the Order and the Garter itself. The Queen places her hand upon the joined hand of the two Knights of the Garter. It is uncertain which of the noblemen are represented here, but the Knight kneeling on the right of the picture would appear to represent Harley. One of these noblemen is attended by a page boy in grey silk, and the other has two black boys supporting his long blue mantle. Among the Knights of the Garter in attendance, and they all wear their full robes and collars, one figure is prominent holding a long slender wand. This is probably Charles Talbot, Duke of Shrewsbury, who was Lord Chamberlain of the Household, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and for a brief period Lord High Treasurer. Two yeoman of the Guard, in the well-known costume, but without ruffs or rosettes to their shoes, holding halberds, stand prominently forth on the extreme left. Through a wide door, in the distant apartments, may be seen a crowd of courtiers waiting for admission, and through the large square panes of the window in a garden are seen clustered various persons in dark and formal attire, peering anxiously through the glass as if to obtain a sight of the ceremonial.
On canvas, 2 ft. 5¼ in. high by 1 ft. 11¾ in. wide. Lent by the Trustees of the National Portrait Gallery.
41 William, Duke of Gloucester, son of Queen Anne (885). . . . . Kneller.
Bust; in an oval turned to the left, face seen in full. He is in armour, and has a blue ermine-lined cape. On canvas, 2½ ft. high, by 2 ft. wide.
The young duke, though of feeble constitution, was not deficient in martial spirit. When but a boy of six years old, he came to meet his uncle William of Orange, who had just returned from a campaign, with a little musket on his shoulder, and presented arms, saying, “I am learning my drill, that I may help you beat the French.” The king was so pleased that he made him a knight of the Garter a few days after. Many men have received that honour for less. He died in July 1700.
42 Prince George of Denmark, Husband of Queen Anne (884). . . . . Dahl.
In an oval, to the shoulders; in armour.—His death in this Palace has been mentioned on page 22.
43 John Churchill, 1st Duke of Marlborough . . . . . Jan Wyck.
Three-quarters length, in armour; face turned three-quarters to the left. His left hand is on his hip, his right on a table by his side, on which is a plumed helmet. A battle scene is shown in the lower right background. On canvas, 3 ft. high, by 2 ft. 4 in. wide. Lent by the Trustees of the National Portrait Gallery.
This portrait would seem to represent him as a comparatively young man—about twenty-three—after he had distinguished himself at Maestricht, when he was nicknamed by Turenne “the handsome Englishman.” It was the period of his famous liaison with the Duchess of Cleveland, who had fallen a willing victim to his beauty and his charm of manner. Lord Wolseley, in his “Life of Marlborough,” describes his appearance at this period as: “Strikingly handsome, with a profusion of fair hair, strongly-marked, well-shaped eyebrows, long eyelashes, blue eyes, and refined, clearly-cut features. A wart on his right upper-lip though large, did not detract from his good looks. He was tall, and his figure was remarkably graceful, although a contemporary says: ‘Il avait l’air trop indolent, et la taille trop effilé.’”
Except for the oak panelling, which covered the walls of this room as late as the beginning of this century, but which was removed now many years ago, we see it exactly as it was finished for Queen Mary. Her initial, with that of her husband, King William, appears in the fine carved oak cornice. The ceiling is coved.
At one time this room was called “The Admiral’s Gallery,” on account of the series of copies of portraits of British Admirals by Kneller and Dahl, which formerly hung here—until their removal in 1835 to Hampton Court, whence they have now been brought back to decorate again the walls of these state rooms at Kensington. They are now hung, as we shall see, in “The King’s Gallery.”
The dimensions of this room are: 25 feet long by 17 feet 10 inches wide, by 12 feet 7 inches high to the top of the cornice, 15 feet 8 inches to the highest part of the ceiling.
Pictures in Queen Mary’s Privy Chamber.
50 Queen Mary, when Princess of Orange (23). . . . . W. Wissing.
Seated, nearly full length. She is dressed in blue in the costume of a lady of the time, and with a crimson mantle edged with ermine. Her left hand rests on a table, over which her mantle falls. Engraved by John Verkolje.
This picture is signed on the left-hand side, and is the original of many replicas or copies at St. James’s Palace, at Burley-on-the-Hill, Woburn, The Grove, etc. It was painted for James II., who sent Wissing over to the Hague for the purpose. His popularity as a portrait-painter was great, and was partly due no doubt to his making such flattering likenesses. “When any lady came to sit to him whose complexion was any ways pale, he would commonly take her by the hand and dance her about the room till she became warmer.”
51 William III. when Prince of Orange . . . . . W. Wissing.
Three-quarters length, standing; facing to the right, in a rich dress. This is the companion piece to the foregoing.
52 Portrait of James Stuart the Pretender (664). . . . . B. Luti.
Half-length; facing in front, inclined to the right; his right hand only is seen. He is in the robes of the Order of the Garter, of which the jewel hangs on his breast, and has a long full-bottomed wig, a lace cravat and cuffs. On his left is a table on which is the royal crown of England. The background is gray, with a red curtain. On canvas, 3 ft. 3 in. high, by 2 ft. 6 in. wide.
The canvas is new. Behind was formerly this inscription:—“James son of James II.; by the Cavaliere Benedetto Luti, from the Cardinal of York’s collection at Frascati.” (Note in the Royal Inventory.) This picture and No. 839 were bequeathed to George III. by Cardinal York, the old Pretender’s son, and the last of the Stuarts, who died in 1807.
It was no doubt painted at Rome, some time between the year 1718, when Prince James accepted the asylum in the Eternal City offered him by the Pope, and the year 1724, when Luti died there. In 1720 he was married to the Princess Sobieski, and at the end of the same year the young Pretender was born.
The Pretender’s countenance has that heavy, sodden appearance, and that weak dejected look, which were due partly to his inert character, partly to his misfortunes, and not less to the debauched and indolent life he led. His person, indeed, was never impressive; and even an adherent, writing of the events at Perth in 1715, admits:—“I must not conceal, that when we saw the man, whom they called our King, we found ourselves not at all animated by his presence, and if he was disappointed in us, we were tenfold more so in him. We saw nothing in him that looked like spirit. He never appeared with cheerfulness and vigour to animate us. Our men began to despise him; some asked him if he could speak.”
Gray the poet gives a similar account of him some years after:—“He is a thin, ill-made man, extremely tall and awkward, of a most unpromising countenance, a good deal resembling King James II., and has extremely the air and look of an idiot, particularly when he laughs or prays; the first he does not do often, the latter continually.” Horace Walpole observed that “enthusiasm and disappointment have stamped a solemnity on his person, which rather creates pity than respect.”
53 Frederick, Prince of Wales, at a Party (606). . . . . M. Laroon?
The Prince is at the head of the table, round which eight ladies and gentlemen are seated. He is pouring wine into a glass. Some thirteen persons, attendants, and a clergyman, are also in the room. Most of them are probably portraits. Altogether twenty-three small figures. On canvas, 3 ft. high, by 2 ft. 10 in. wide.
This picture, though long labelled “Vanderbank,” is probably by Marcellus Laroon, the younger, to whom it is attributed in an old catalogue. The likelihood that he is the painter is greatly strengthened by the close resemblance in style between it and the similar piece that follows—the personages evidently being the same.
It is not certain what is the subject represented; though it has borne the above title for many years. In one of the Lord Chamberlain’s old inventories it is stated to represent “a fête in honour of the marriage of the Duke of Wharton.”
54 A Royal Assembly in Kew Palace . . . . . Marcellus Laroon.
This represents some Royal assembly, apparently Augusta of Saxe-Gotha, the wife of Frederick, Prince of Wales, and her friends, in Kew Palace. The Princess in blue is pouring out the tea; a lady in white is singing; Handel is at the harpsichord, and “Orator” Henley close by. The equestrian portrait on the wall appears to be George II.
Signed Mar. Laroon, and dated 1740. Lent by Mr. Humphry Ward.
55 Matthew Prior . . . . . . By Thomas Hudson, after Jonathan Richardson.
Half-length, seated, almost in profile to the right. On canvas, 3 ft. 4 in. high, by 2 ft. 9 in. wide. Lent by the Trustees of the National Portrait Gallery.
Prior—poet, statesman, and diplomatist—published with Charles Montagu, afterwards Earl of Halifax, in 1689, “The City Mouse and the Country Mouse,” intended to ridicule Dryden’s “Hind and Panther.” He was patronized by Dorset, who introduced him to the Court; and he was often employed in diplomatic offices.
56 Flower-Piece—over the mantelpiece (826). . . . . Baptiste.
A green glass vase with chrysanthemums, poppies, honeysuckles, etc. Baptiste was a protégé of Queen Mary, and painted a great number of flower-pieces to decorate Kensington and Hampton Court.
57 Portrait of Robert Boyle the Philosopher (56). . . . . Kerseboom.
Nearly full-length, seated in a big armchair; turned to the right, but facing in front. He leans his right arm on the chair; his left is turning over the leaves of a book on a table in front of him. He wears a large full-bottomed wig. This picture has been engraved by Baron several times.
Boyle, the famous chemist and experimental philosopher, was the seventh son of the first Lord Cork, and from him received a fortune of £3,000 a year, which he devoted in a great measure to scientific research and the promotion of the Christian religion. He was never married, being of opinion that “a man must have very low and narrow thoughts of happiness or misery who can expect either from a woman’s conduct.” For his life, see his Philaretus.
Frederic Kerseboom was a native of Germany, who worked at Paris and Rome under Le Brun and Poussin. He was in England during William III.’s reign, and painted a few indifferent portraits.
58 Portrait of John Locke (947). . . . . Kneller.
Half-length, standing; turned to the right, but facing in front. He rests his left hand on a table, on which are an inkstand and a pen; his right hand in front of him. He wears a plain black coat, with part of his shirt showing; and he is without his wig, and shows his long white hair.
This is one of Kneller’s best portraits. It was evidently painted in the philosopher’s later years, for he looks here on the point of dying of the asthma to which he succumbed in 1704. “Pray,” said Locke in a letter to Collins, “get Sir Godfrey to write on the back of my picture ‘John Locke;’ it is necessary to be done, or else the pictures of private persons are lost in two or three generations.”
59 Sir Isaac Newton (957). . . . . Kneller.
Three-quarters length; turned to the left, facing in front. His right arm is by his side, his left leans on a table, on which are a globe and a book. He wears a dark, loose robe, and a large wig. On the left is inscribed: “I Newton Esqre Ætatis 47. 1689.”
There is a similar portrait to this at Petworth, which is engraved in Lodge. Newton was at this time member of the Convention Parliament, for the University of Cambridge.
59A King William III. (779) . . . . . Kneller.
Three-quarters length in armour, directed to the right; face turned round to the left. He wears a blue and gold sash. In the left background is a black servant, perhaps the one whose marble bust is now in this palace.
Queen Caroline’s Drawing Room.
In entering this room we pass from the portion of the palace built in 1690 by Sir Christopher Wren for William and Mary, to that constructed by William Kent about 1723 for George I. The visitor has thus a good opportunity of comparing the styles and tastes of the two architects and of gauging their relative powers. Wren had been driven from his office, in 1718, by a shameful backstair intrigue; and two years afterwards, Kent, doubtless by the influence of his patron, the Earl of Burlington, was commissioned to build a set of new state rooms.
How very mediocre were his talents, the exterior of his addition to Wren’s work will, as we have already said, ever remain a palpable proof; and though for internal construction he shows less incapacity, still this room exhibits all his false ideas of pseudo-classicism—developed, as we shall see, to a most extravagant extent in the adjoining “Cube or Cupola Room.”
Examining the decoration in detail, we perceive everywhere evidences of his awkward, graceless style. The doorways, for instance, are unnecessarily lofty and gaunt, and with their heavy cumbrous architraves, flat moulded, with little light and shade, greatly impair the proportions of the room. In the tall semi-circular headed central window also, surmounted by a purposeless oak bracket—even in such details as the mouldings of the panelling and of the framing of the doors, and the flatness of the raised panels and their relative sizes to the width of the rails and “stiles,”—we detect his marked inferiority to Wren in the designing of such fittings.
The chimney-piece, which is one of Kent’s plainer and less ponderous ones, is of a choice marble, veined black and gold.
The dimensions of this room are: 32 feet 9½ inches long, 24 feet 2 inches wide, and 19 feet 2 inches high to the top of the cornice, 24 feet to the ceiling.
Painted Ceiling of Queen Caroline’s
Drawing Room.
BUT it is by the ceiling especially, with its great heavy oval frame of plasterwork, and its appearance of overhanging crushing weight, that we can most accurately appreciate Kent. The central recessed panel, containing an allegorical representation of Minerva, attended by History and the Arts, gives us a measure of his powers as a pictorial artist. The decorative painting of the cove of the ceiling, above the oaken cornice, is more satisfactory. In the four angles, and in the middle of each side, are classical pediments with volutes.
Besides, the workmanship of the wainscoting being very good, and the original rawness of the ceiling somewhat faded, this room, with its new oak floor, its gorgeous paper, its Georgian furniture, probably designed by Kent, and the magnificent frames of some of the pictures on its walls, presents a fine and stately appearance.
Contemporary French and German Portraits.
60 Madame de Pompadour (986). . . . . Drouais.