PLATE VII.—PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST'S WIFE
(In the Pinakothek, Munich)
A remarkably good example of Van Dyck's power of depicting female character. Whenever he is faced with a sitter in whom he is interested he suited his technique to the points he wished to emphasise. It is the possession of this versatility which enables him to infuse so much seductive charm into his women portraits and such trenchant vigour into those of men.
It is only in such superb presentations of Charles as that in the Louvre, at Windsor, and in the National Gallery that we are enabled to judge of his capabilities at this period. He now almost entirely deserted historical painting. There was no demand for it in England, and his attention was exclusively devoted to portraiture. Moreover, if we may judge from the ever-increasing facility with which he was wont to paint, it may be fairly said that his attention during these years was being diverted from painting to pleasure. He never lost interest in his art, but he was impelled to adopt a more facile manner by the pressure of his engagements and his ever-increasing expenses.
He kept a country house at Eltham in Kent, where he spent the summer—a form of extravagance more defensible than many in which he was accustomed to indulge.
Meanwhile, he had contracted a marriage with Mary Ruthven, granddaughter of Lord Ruthven, Earl of Cowrie, by whom he had one daughter. His wife, however, brought him no dowrie, but was considered one of the greatest beauties of her time. Soon after his marriage he left England with his wife for the purpose of showing her his native country. They travelled for some time, visiting his family and friends. Then the idea occurred to him that he would proceed to Paris, with a view of sharing, if possible, in the contemplated decoration of the Louvre, and thus win laurels equal to those Rubens had gained by his works in the Luxembourg. He arrived, however, too late: Nicholas Poussin had been brought specially from Rome for the purpose, and the work was in hand. Disappointed in this, and still desiring to execute some great work by which he might secure a lasting renown, he returned to England and proposed to the king, through the medium of his old and trusty friend Sir Kenelm Digby, to embellish the wall of the Banqueting House at Whitehall with the history of the Order of the Garter. The ceiling of this sumptuous chamber had already been painted by Rubens, and Van Dyck no doubt considered that his work would blend admirably with that of his master. The sum he asked for, £8000, although considerable, would no doubt not have stood in the way of the execution of the project had it occurred at an earlier date in the reign of the unfortunate Charles. The kingdom, however, was already in a turbulent condition. Funds were scarce, and such as existed might have to be employed at any moment in raising an army to defend the king's cause. Charles was now occupied in a life-and-death struggle with his people, and had no time to devote to artistic pursuits. Van Dyck consequently waited in vain for an answer, and it is to be supposed that meanwhile commissions did not come to him as easily as formerly. Young as he still was, the effects of his past luxurious life were beginning to tell upon him, and, coupled with the disappointment occasioned by the rejection of his proposal, contributed to bring on gout. He began to have financial worries too, but these can hardly have been sufficiently great to have troubled him much, for he left at his death property to the value of £20,000. He therefore turned his attention, probably in emulation, or by the advice, of his friend Sir Kenelm Digby, to the pursuit of the philosopher's stone, and, needless to say, the results of his experiments and the money he expended upon them only aggravated the state of his health. He rapidly sickened, and died in London on December 9th, 1641, when forty-two years of age. He was accorded a magnificent funeral in St. Paul's Cathedral, and was buried in a tomb beside that of John of Gaunt.