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George Romney (1734-1802)
Romney and his self-portrait
in the National Portrait Gallery
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| This
is the text of the annual lecture of the Romney Society given
by Charles Saumarez Smith in 1995 and first published in 'Quarto'
in 1996 (see Further
Reading) |

Fig. 1 George Romney, Self-portrait
at the age of forty-nine, 1784 (National Portrait Gallery) |
The
room that Romney's Self-portrait usually hangs in at the
National Portrait Gallery is one of the rooms that the Gallery
uses reasonably frequently for official occasions. The atmosphere
of the room is strongly redolent of the late eighteenth-century
literary and artistic establishment: the faces are confident
and authoritative, displaying the arts in England at their most
worldly and polished. Yet I have always felt that Romney is slightly
out of place in this setting. It is not just a result of the
fact that his Self-portrait is unfinished. There is something
about the way that Romney turns his head towards the spectator
as if he didn't really want to be disturbed, with his body turned
horizontally across the canvas, his slightly sardonic air, a
hint of aggressiveness, of him looking out quizzically at the
spectator, which has always struck me as setting Romney apart
from his contemporaries, as if he did not wish to join the club,
but appreciated his separateness. This impression of a portrait
that is distinctive in type and that it might reveal aspects
of Romney's personality encouraged me to want to find out more
about it. |
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Let me start with the known facts
about the portrait. As is often the case with even ostensibly
well-known paintings, there are surprisingly few secure facts
in relation to Romney's Self-portrait. William Hayley,
Romney's friend and biographer, says that it was painted in 1784
at Eartham, Hayley's country house halfway between Chichester
and Petworth on the south downs. According to Hayley,
my annual visiter [that is,
Romney] enlivened the autumn of 1784 in a manner peculiarly memorable
to me, for he interested himself most kindly in the decoration
of a new library, that I was then fitting up, and began at my
request, on that occasion, the striking resemblance of himself
in oil, which may be regarded as the best of his own portraits,
and which is marked in the frontispiece to this volume with the
year of his age, forty-nine. It well expresses that pensive vivacity,
and profusion of ideas, which a spectator might discover in his
countenance, whenever he sat absorbed in studious meditation.
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Fig. 2 Mezzotint by John Jacobé 1779, after George Romney,
William Hayley (National Portrait Gallery Archive)]
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It is perhaps worth noting that
it is not actually the frontispiece, but the tailpiece. Nor is
it marked with his age, but simply described as one of 'Three
portraits of Romney at different periods of his life'. Moreover,
of another self-portrait of himself, of which there is also an
engraving, Hayley says that it was painted in 1780 and 'marked
with the year of his age, forty-six'. Born in 1734, Romney would
have been 46 in 1780 and 49 in 1783, not 1784.
John Romney, the artist's son,
who also wrote a biography of his father published in 1830, accuses
his father's other biographers of inaccuracy, especially William
Hayley, whom he felt was too critical of his father's weaknesses
of character and, moreover, had - in some way, not clearly specified
- caused the long separation of Romney from his wife and contributed
to the decline of his later years. He wrote that:
In the Autumn of this year
(1782) he began his own portrait, which he afterwards gave to
Mr. Hayley; who did not allow him to finish it, but hurried it
off to Eartham without delay. The head however, is perfect, but
the rest of the figure, which could not be completed without
a model, remains in statu quo. Had it, however, been suffered
to remain in Cavendish Square sometime longer, an opportunity
would have occurred when it might have been finished; but Mr.
Hayley preferred the bird in hand. 2
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Which of these two versions are
we to believe ? The National Portrait Gallery has always been
inclined to follow the year given by Romney junior, but, to be
honest, I am not convinced. For a start, Hayley's account is
slightly more circumstantial and he ties it in with an event
- that is, the decoration of his library at Eartham - which is
known to have taken place in September 1784 and which caused
the young John Flaxman to do a portrait bust of Romney, as well
as of Hayley. 3 It seems entirely plausible that Romney should
have been encouraged to paint his own portrait at a time when
he was sitting to Flaxman. Secondly, it seems much more plausible
that Romney should have undertaken his Self-portrait as
a form of relaxation when he was at Eartham, since he is known
to have spent his time there working on ideas outside the mainstream
of his artistic practice; and, besides, as John Romney admits,
Hayley owned the portrait. Then, if one follows Hayley's movements
in 1782, Romney came to stay in August, not the autumn. Hayley
himself was much occupied with the writing of his Plays for
a Private Theatre all through the autumn. So John Romney's
version of the date of Romney painting his Self-portrait
cannot be regarded as definitive.
If we assume, as Hayley suggests,
that the Self-portrait was painted at Eartham in the autumn
of 1784, then Romney was, indeed, not quite fifty, since he was
born in December 1734. Looking at his circumstances, there was
no real reason why he should not have been able to paint himself
as a reasonably prosperous and successful painter at the height
of his career. He had raised himself from relatively modest origins
as the son of a self-improving artisan-cum-craftsman in west
Cumberland. He had managed to apprentice himself to Christopher
Steele, one of relatively few artists in the north-west and a
man who, in spite of a somewhat rackety lifestyle, had at least
trained in Paris under Carl van Loo. Romney had then managed
to make just enough money out of running a lottery for the sale
of his subject pictures to take himself off to London, where
he was able to build up a reasonably successful career in portrait
painting.
But he constantly regretted the
fact that he had not been properly trained and probably recognised
that he would never be taken completely seriously as an artist
unless he had spent time in Rome. So, when he was nearly forty
he took himself to Italy in company with the miniature painter
Ozias Humphry. In Rome he was able to develop a much better understanding
of both classicism, through the study of antique statuary, and
of pictorial technique through the examination of Renaissance
painters, including the works of Titian during a visit to Venice
and of Correggio in Parma.
On his return to London in July
1775, he felt sufficiently confident of his circumstances to
take a large house in the fashionable west end. It had previously
belonged to the Royal Academician, Francis Cotes. The house not
only had a large painting room where he could receive sitters,
but also a gallery where he could show off examples of his paintings.
From that point onwards he had no shortage of fashionable sitters
who came for sittings of between three quarters of an hour and
an hour and a half during the course of the day beginning at
ten o'clock in the morning. By 1784, he was able to charge 20
guineas for a three quarter length and he was able to knock a
painting off usually in a reasonably small number of sittings,
for a head between three and five. He was making a fair amount
of money and was described by Horace Walpole in 1780 as 'in great
vogue'.
Not only was Romney professionally
successful, but his life was outwardly very orderly. He would
get up between the hours of seven and eight; have breakfast with
friends in Gray's Inn and then return to his house in order to
prepare for the first of his sitters at ten o'clock. According
to William Hayley, 'At noon he took broth, or coffee, and dined
at four, in the most simple manner'. 4 After dinner, he would
then either go for a walk in the country - in those days it was
possible to do so from Cavendish Square - take tea at Kilburn
Wells or, if there was time, have dinner out in the Long Room
at Hampstead, whose hill he particularly liked. On his return
home he was able to spend the evening working on drawings for
subject paintings, which was what really interested him, regarding
his portrait painting essentially as a form of routine work necessary
to make money. He had friends. He was able to take an annual
holiday out in the country with William Hayley at Eartham in
Sussex, where he revived his spirits by sea-bathing and playing
at coits. Superficially, his life was well-ordered, as well as
prosperous.
But there were undercurrents,
which made him project an image of himself in his Self-portrait,
which is slightly aggressive and saturnine, a face which suggests
a degree of inner discontent. Why was this ? Why did a man who
achieved most of what he had wanted to achieve in life suffer
such anxieties that in the 1790s he went into a steep and neurotic
decline?
Part of the answer, I suspect,
was simply a matter of temperament. All the evidence about him
suggests that he was fairly anti-social, preferring the company
of a small group of close friends, rather than wishing to venture
out into wider society. For example, when he was in Rome, Ozias
Humphry, with whom he had travelled, described him as 'a man
of uncommon concealment; in no way communicative. In what related
to his art he reserved his studies, refusing to let them be seen
while in Italy'. In 1778, James Northcote, who admittedly had
no reason to like him because of his rivalry with Reynolds, described
him in a letter to his brother as 'ambitious, sly and mean, and
his pictures are hard, dry and tasteless, and such as you would
not like in the least. And I am enough secure that he will never
make a first rate painter.' 5
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Fig. 3 George Romney, Richard Cumberland,
c. 1776 (National Portrait Gallery)
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And
Richard Cumberland, his first and perhaps his most just biographer,
described him as 'shy, private, studious and contemplative; conscious
of all the disadvantages and privations of a very stinted education;
of a habit naturally hypochondriac, with aspen nerves, that every
breath could ruffle'. 6 Perhaps it was because, as Cumberland
suggests, he felt ill-at-ease due to a lack of formal education.
Perhaps he felt patronised by his much more worldly sitters.
Whatever the cause, he seems to have suffered from periodic fits
of gloom, which sound, from all accounts, like the symptoms of
clinical depression. |
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Romney's son, John, who was brought
up in Cumberland in the absence of his father and subsequently
became a clergyman, puts the blame on Hayley. In his biography
of his father, published in 1830, he wrote:
Mr. Hayley's friendship was
grounded on selfishness, and the means, by which he maintained
it was flattery. By this art he acquired a great ascendancy over
the mind of Mr. Romney, and knew well how to avail himself of
it for selfish purposes. He was able, also, by a canting kind
of hypocrisy, to confound the distinctions between vice and virtue,
and to give a colouring to conduct, that might, and probably
did mislead Mr. Romney on some occasions. He likewise drew him
too much from general society, and almost monopolized him himself,
and thus narrowed the circle of his acquaintance and friends.
By having intimated an intention of writing Mr. Romney's life,
he made him extremely afraid of doing any thing that might give
offence. There was a wrong-headedness in the general conduct
of Mr. Hayley, arising from the influence of powerful passions,
that disqualified him from being a judicious and prudent adviser;
yet he was always interfering in the affairs of Mr. Romney, and
volunteering his advice: and I have too much reason to believe,
that whatever errors the latter may have committed, they were
mainly owing to the counsel, or instigation of Mr. Hayley. 7
What is one to make of this attack
? Part of John Romney's hostility appears to have been irrational,
as if Hayley, who only met Romney in 1776, had been responsible
for Romney deserting his wife and family in 1762 and then never
returning to Cumberland until the last stages of his terminal
decline, when he went back to to be nursed by his long-suffering
wife after an absence of nearly forty years. Part of his attack
was also probably motivated by a sense of grievance that Hayley
had acquired pictures which John Romney felt ought to have become
the property of the family. Moreover, John Romney felt that Hayley
had not done complete justice to his father in the biography
which had been published in 1809 and had been slightly over-inclined
to place emphasis on Romney's infirmities of character, which
his son, with appropriately filial piety, wanted to correct.
But still there is in Romney's attack on Hayley something more;
and, since the Self-portrait seems, from the circumstances
in which it was painted, very much to have been a record of Romney's
friendship with Hayley, one wants to get a slightly better sense
of the nature of their relationship.
They first met in 1776, when
they were introduced by the miniature painter Jeremiah Meyer.
Hayley had moved out of London to his house at Eartham and wanted
portraits of his friends as a memento of them. Meyer obviously
suggested Romney as the appropriate artist to undertake these
portraits and through this commission they became friends. On
October 22, 1776, Hayley wrote to Romney inviting him to stay
at Eartham. The letter is very characteristic of Hayley's self-importance
and slightly wheedling tone, inveigling himself into Romney's
life in a way that I think it is perhaps understandable that
Romney's son should subsequently have resented.
I entreat you in the name
of those immortal powers, the beautiful, and the sublime, whom
you so ardently adore, or, to speak the language of your favourite
Macbeth, 'I conjure you by that which you profess', to moderate
your intense spirit of application, which preys so fatally on
your frame - exchange, for a short time, the busy scenes, and
noxious air, of London, for the chearful tranquillity and pure
breezes of our Southern coast. To console you for what you will
quit, the daily praises of a flattering Metropolis, I will promise
you the more silent, but warmer, admiration of a few friends,
who join to their esteem of your talents, the most cordial solicitude
for your welfare. Nor is this an idle invitation to abandon,
even for a short time, either the pleasures, or profits, of your
profession; but to pursue both in a manner more consistent with
your health, and consequently with that glory in your art, which
is, I know, your predominant passion, and which is indeed the
only true Promethean fire that can make anartist immortal. 8
In 1777, Hayley published his
Epistle on Painting, addressed to George Romney, which,
by Hayley's own account, encouraged Romney 'not to waste too
large a portion of life in the lucrative drudgery of his profession;
but to aspire to the acquisition of practical excellence in the
highest department of his art. 9 In other words, Hayley encouraged
Romney in a slightly schizophrenic frame of mind, in which he
devalued the portrait painting which Romney was able to accomplish
with such admirable facility, and made him think that he might
be able to achieve more lasting success by devoting himself to
history painting, something which, to judge from the relatively
small number of history paintings that he completed later in
his career, was never going to be possible. So, once again, there
are perhaps good reasons for John Romney's resentment of Hayley's
influence on his father.
A further reason for John Romney
thinking that Hayley was a bad influence on his father was also
undoubtedly moral. This takes us into areas of Romney's life
which are relatively uncharted, but which, if one is looking
into his character, need to be investigated. My own view - and
I don't have very much evidence for this - is that Romney was
highly susceptible to younger women in a slightly voyeuristic
way and that Hayley encouraged this tendency.
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Fig. 4 George Romney, Emma Hart, later Lady Hamilton,
1782-86 (National Portrait Gallery)
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Certainly,
in 1782, two years before his Self-portrait was painted,
the young Emma Hart came to sit to him. She was then the mistress
of Charles Greville, and all the evidence suggests that Romney
fell in love with her, idolizing the highly original appearance
and manner of the young seventeen-year old. Then in 1790, when
Romney was nearly sixty, he went to Paris with Hayley and the
following year was consorting with a young French mistress known
as Thelassie, a liaison which was certainly encouraged by Hayley,
who wanted to take her on as his secretary. But the most teasing
piece of evidence relating to Romney's proclivities comes from
a letter written following his death by Richard Cumberland, his
old friend and first biographer, to Thomas Greene, another old
friend - indeed, probably his oldest, as well as being the lawyer
who managed his financial affairs. Cumberland wrote as follows: |
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We were prepared for the Loss
of Mr. Romney: in fact he was lost to us before his death. He
will however live in our Rememberance by his virtues, & in
the Worlds rememberance by his Works. He was an Extra ordinary
man, For he owed nothing to Education, and his Art, like his
genius, seem'd in him to be the Gift of Inspiration. I said we
shall remember him for his Virtues, we have also to bewail his
Failings and Infirmities. Elegant in his taste, and abstimious
in his Habits, He was betray'd into Impurities, - which morality
canott pardon, tho Candour may fairly plead that he kept his
Weaknes out of sight, and never offended the Decorum of Society,
or lost his Respect for virtue, tho' his practice did not strictly
conform to it. To this we must impute the Irregularities of his
Temper, the abstraction of his mind, and all those nervous and
hypochondriacal affections, which sunk him in his own esteem,
sapp'd his constitution, antisipated all the Symptoms of old
age and finally struck him down into the Grave, a man worn out
before his Time. 10
As one records this epitaph and
as one investigates the circumstances in which Romney's Self-portrait
was painted, I hope that it begins to be clear why his brow was
furrowed. He seems to have suffered from some form of inner discontent,
which does, indeed, make him stand apart from his contemporaries
and makes him appear, in many ways, as a proto-romantic artist,
standing aside from society, critical of it, haunted by inner
demons which he was only able to express in his drawings, with
Hayley as a malevolent Svengali, encouraging him to become something
which he was not really equipped to be: a painter of literature
and of the imagination, rather than a painter of what he really
excelled at, the surface sheen of materials, the outward texture
of life, with a smooth and buttery pigment, which flattered and
enriched the lives of his female sitters.
Charles Saumarez
Smith
Director, National Portrait Gallery
References
1. William Hayley, The Life
of George Romney, Esq., Chichester, 1809, p.96.
2. Rev. John Romney, Memoirs
of the Life and Works of George Romney, London, 1830, p.192.
3. For the circumstances of building
the library at Eartham, see Mary Webster, 'Poet Patron of the
18th Century: William Hayley and George Romney', Country Life,
January 29, 1981, pp.266-7. For this reference and other advice,
I am grateful to Jacob Simon.
4. Hayley, p.322.
5. W.T. Whitley, Artists and
their Friends in England 1700-99, London, 1928, II, p.312.
6. Memoirs of Richard Cumberland
written by himself, London, 1806, p.464.
7. Romney, p.139.
8. Morchard Bishop, Blake's
Hayley, London, 1951, pp.53-4.
9. Hayley, p.79.
10. Transcript of letter offered
for sale in Artists' Files, NPG.
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