Jonathan Richardson was, perhaps, the best English portrait painter of his time; and, after the deaths of Kneller and Dahl, stood prominent in that branch of his profession. Aikman and Alexander were also contemporary artists.
But perhaps the English artist of that time best known to us is Sir James Thornhill; not only by his painting in the dome of St. Paul's, but by his masterpiece in the Hall of Greenwich Hospital. Indeed he was a worthy rival both of Verrio and Laguerre. Forty shillings per square yard was all he got for painting St. Paul's, and probably no more for Greenwich. For his decorations at Blenheim he only received twenty-five shillings per square yard; and the Directors of the South Sea Company would pay him no more for the work he did on their staircase and hall. There are a few other English painters, but they were of no note.
Of foreign artists in England, doubtless the greatest was Kneller, who was born at Lubeck in 1648. He came over here in 1674, without the least intention of stopping; but, having painted Charles II. and established a reputation, he made this country his home. Knighted by William, petted by Anne, baroneted by George I., he could scarcely expect greater honours. His principal works in Anne's reign were a bad portrait of the King of Spain, who paid a visit to the Queen, and was kept some time longer than he expected, by stress of weather; seven portraits of admirals at Hampton Court, and the portraits of the Kit Cat Club, which have already been noticed. He was as vain as Jervas, if not more so. Pope tried to see to what extent his vanity would go. 'Sir Godfrey, I believe if God Almighty had had your assistance, the world would have been formed more perfect.' ''Fore Gad, Sir, I believe so too,' was the self-satisfied reply. He, however, was not devoid of wit, as his little encounter with Dr. Ratcliffe proves. They lived next to each other, and there was a door between the two gardens. Through this door Ratcliffe's servants used to come and pick Kneller's flowers; so the painter sent word that he would have the door shut. A message came from the doctor that 'he might do anything with it but paint it,' to which the artist replied that 'he would take anything from him but his physic.' Kneller was painting the portrait of James II., which was to be a present to Pepys, when the King received the news of the landing of the Prince of Orange. He ordered the painter to proceed with his work, so that 'his good friend Pepys should not be disappointed.'
When Sir Godfrey moved from his house in Covent Garden, he had a sale of pictures, probably of little artistic value, or only copies.[488] 'At the late Dwelling House of Sir Godfrey Kneller, in the Piazza's, Covent Garden, will be sold a Collection of Original Paintings, fit for Stair Cases, Chimneys, Doors or Closets. Some of the Masters they were done by are as follows: viz. Holben, Ruben, Van Dyke, Sr. Peter Lely, Antonio de Cortona, Solveta, Rosa, Snider, Vander Velde, Rostraten, Bombodes, Verelst and several other great Masters.' This auction was a failure: 'This is to give notice, That the Collection, &c., will be Sold out of hand at very reasonable Rates at the above-mentioned place, beginning this present Monday being the 27th of March, the badness and uncertainty of the Weather having put a stop to the Auction.[489]
John Closterman was the artist who painted the whole-length portrait of Queen Anne, now in the Guildhall. We get several notices of him from the newspapers: 'Mr. Closterman being obliged at Christmas next to go to Hanover, and afterwards to several Courts of Germany; so that it is uncertain whether he will ever return to England. Such Persons of Quality and others, as have lately sate to him, are desired to take notice, that their Pictures will be finished out of hand, and deliver'd as they shall best please to order them.'[490]
In April of the next year he advertised that 'being oblig'd to leave England very suddenly, will sell all his pictures by Auction.' Another sale of pictures took place on Feb. 28, 1711, which was probably after his death, the date of which is somewhat uncertain. He had married a worthless girl, who robbed him of all he possessed, and then ran away: this sent him mad, and he soon afterwards died.
Antonio Pelegrini made several designs for painting the dome of St. Paul's, and was paid for them. He painted staircases, etc., for the Dukes of Manchester and Portland, and for other noblemen. He died abroad.
His master, Sebastian Ricci, came over here, and painted the altarpiece in the chapel of Chelsea College; but he, too, did not stop. Not so James Bogdani, a native of Hungary, who lived here between forty and fifty years. He painted fruit, flowers, and birds, and our royal palaces still possess examples of this master, which were purchased by Queen Anne.
John Vander Vaart,[491] of Haarlem, lived for over fifty years in Covent Garden, and died there. His forte was game. He painted a piece of still life—a violin—on a door at Devonshire House, Piccadilly, that deceived everybody. This is now at Chatsworth.
Pope's line, 'Where sprawl the Saints of Verrio and Laguerre,' naturally makes us think of these two masters, and many were the ceilings which the latter painted in England. He enjoyed royal patronage under both William and Anne, designing for the latter some tapestry, illustrative of the union between England and Scotland, in which were portraits of the Queen and her ministers. He did the drawings, but the tapestry was not made. His end was sudden: he died of apoplexy in Drury Lane Theatre, whither he had gone to attend the benefit of his son, who sang there in 'The Island Princess.'[492]