A few weeks ago I was asked to pass an opinion upon the subject of a painting acquired by Plymouth-based art dealers Parade Antiques. It was the portrait of a man in his mid-twenties which was recently discovered in the attic of a house at St Ives (Cornwall). The canvas itself was in poor condition; minus frame, artist’s signature or any other distinguishing mark to shed light on his identity.
Could this be William Long-Wellesley?
It was only after John Cabello (Parade Antiques) had this portrait restored that he noticed a striking resemblance between his mystery man and Arthur Wellesley (Duke of Wellington,1769-1852), who was Britain’s hero at the Battle of Waterloo. Mr Cabello immediately suspected he was looking at an image of ‘Wicked William’ Long-Wellesley, the Duke’s wastrel nephew, best recalled for the destruction of Wanstead House. In Cabello’s opinion this painting is highly reminiscent of Sir Thomas Lawrence (1769-1830), who was a leading English portrait painter of the Regency period and the fourth president of the Royal Academy.
But what would a portrait of the black sheep of the Wellesley family be doing in a Cornish attic? And if it can be attributed to Lawrence (or one of his associates) why was it left to fester in such a decrepit state for nigh on two centuries? Most importantly, can we find any visual evidence to connect the cocky-looking man displayed in this picture to the illustrious Wellesley family?
1. What would Long-Wellesley have been doing in St Ives?
Strangely enough the obscure location where this painting was found may prove to be the strongest pointer to Long-Wellesley. Following his marriage in 1812, ‘Wicked William’ decided to enter Parliament, and purchased a seat for £500 in the rotten borough of St Ives. He was duly elected in November 1812, serving as the town’s MP until 1818. Long-Wellesley continued to live at Wanstead House, only visiting St Ives around the time of their assizes. Given that Long-Wellesley had civic as well as parliamentary responsibilities in Cornwall it is entirely possible that a painting was commissioned for the purpose of familiarising constituents with Long-Wellesley’s likeness in the days before photographic media. This painting may have been taken down after Long-Wellesley resigned his seat; its frame perhaps re-used for his replacement MP. Maybe the portrait remained in situ until after Long-Wellesley’s scandalous behaviour became public knowledge. Alternatively it could have adorned Long-Wellesley’s residence at St Ives, and he never bothered to retrieve it after he left the area.
2. Could Sir Thomas Lawrence really have have painted Long-Wellesley?
Sir Thomas Lawrence is best remembered for his flattering style of portraiture, emphasising the positive physical attributes of his subjects. The man in this painting is in his mid-twenties, staring back at us unabashed, almost arrogantly, in the mode of a man of fashion. His style of clothing is very typical of the dandy, but the controlled wildness of his hair exudes masculinity with more than a hint of Romanticism. In 1814 Lawrence was commissioned by members of the Wellesley family to paint a series of portraits, including this iconic image of the Duke of Wellington.
Wellington by Sir Thomas Lawrence (1814)
Another of Lawrence’s most notable works at this time was an ensemble entitled ‘The Three Graces’ : being Mary Bagot, Priscilla Burghersh and Emily Fitzroy Somerset – These women are Long-Wellesley’s sisters.
Wicked William’s three sisters as sketched by Sir Thomas Lawrence (1814)
In the summer of 1814 William held an enormous fete at Wanstead House to honour his uncle the Duke of Wellington, which was attended by the crowned heads of Europe, in celebration of Napoleon’s defeat and exile. Given that Lawrence was at this time busily employed by the Wellesleys it seems plausible that ‘Wicked William’ could have asked Lawrence to do his portrait too. This was when Long-Wellesley was at the height of his pomp, having just turned 24 years old and thought to be so good-looking that even Lord Byron was envious. The St Ives painting has an element of swagger that would have typified Long-Wellesley.
It is important to acknowledge that the age of this portrait is as yet unproven. However the way this man is presented and what he is wearing does provide some hints. The sitter’s clothes are consistent with contemporary descriptions of Long-Wellesley, and the execution of the portrait is so close to the style of Lawrence that it is reasonable to assume it originates from (or relates to) the Regency period.
3. Are we looking at a member of the Wellesley family?
The best way to determine a familial likeness is to set the mystery portrait against other members of the Wellesley family to look for common traits
The restored painting (left) and a portrait of Arthur Wellesley by John Hoppner (right)
In this comparison we capture Arthur Wellesley in 1808 (aged 39). Both men have thick-set eyebrows and blue eyes, their mouths and chins seem to follow the same lines.
When we place the picture alongside contemporary images of William’s sisters the evidence seems even more compelling.
On the left is a portrait of Mary Bagot by John Hoppner c.1807. On the right is Emily Fitzroy Somerset by Sir Thomas Lawrence c.1815. Although their portraits were painted by different artists the sisters’ features are identical. Of the two, Emily seems to be uncannily like the man in this portrait, suggesting not only that he is a close family relation, but also that this man has been painted by the same artist (Sir Thomas Lawrence).
4. Is this portrait ‘Wicked William’ Long-Wellesley?
The story of William’s marriage to the richest heiress in Regency Britain, Catherine Tylney-Long, has become internationally famous since the publication of Angel and the Cad by Geraldine Roberts (2015). Long-Wellesley went on to wreck Catherine’s ancestral home at Wanstead House, leading to the fire sale of its priceless art and treasures; even her cherished family portraits were lost. Although William retained some of Catherine’s heirlooms, they had to be auctioned off in 1852 because he never paid the storage fees, and their current whereabouts are unknown.
Apart from a few satires at the British Museum, there are no surviving images of William or Catherine Long-Wellesley for the duration of their marriage. All we can use for comparative purposes are a miniature of Long-Wellesley aged 16 (in the collection of the Duke of Wellington at Stratfield Saye) and etching of him in profile aged about 38 (the original of which is in my possession).
The unknown man replicates 16-year-old William in both appearance and dress
Looking at youthful William (right), we see distinct features such as eyebrows, nose and the line of his jaw – which seem to be present in the later image. Their fashionable clothes seem to conform to the same dandy regulation of wearing a drab overcoat with high-necked collar. The curls of hair may not be so pronounced in the left-hand image, but this may have been deliberate – reined in to give the man an air of authority commensurate with his standing on public life.
The portrait of Long-Wellesley in his late thirties (shown on right) depicts a more care-worn man with a receding hairline and a much bigger nose. His chin looks less prominent, but the eyes and eyebrows and his mode of dress are consistent in both images. We all know that the nose never stops growing as one gets older, and Wicked William certainly seems well on the way to a full-blown proboscis akin to the Duke of Wellington. As he got older William looked increasingly more like Wellington. Even the Duke gasped at the likeness when the pair met up in 1845.
Georgian satires ridiculed celebrities of their day by exaggerating physical appearance to create an image fit for public consumption. Their primary function was commercial; providing a cheap, popular and in-the-moment source of entertainment. Satirical representations were parodies rather than true likenesses. But it was vital to capture the essence of those featured, to make them instantly recognisable. In Long-Wellesley’s case he was often depicted carrying a rake to sow his wild oats; and presented as a womanising fool bereft of common sense. Despite this, when we compare Long-Wellesley’s satires with the St Ives portrait we again find common ground. These examples from 1811 and 1812 could easily be caricatures of the man we see in this portrait.
Conclusion
It is clear that the St Ives painting needs further examination by art experts to fully establish its age and provenance. I have considered it purely in the context of Long-Wellesley’s life. Long-Wellesley did spend time in St Ives; he also would have been closely associated with Sir Thomas Lawrence at this time. The sitter in this portrait is almost certainly a member of the Wellesley family. Having compared this new painting with existing images and satires of Long-Wellesley, I feel certain that Parade Antiques have unearthed the genuine article, and that this really is an extremely important find.
I am not yet sure what will become of the painting, but it would be wonderful to see it back in Wanstead. Imagine the irony of forcing Wicked William to gaze upon the wreck of his once proud estate from his position on the wall of the Temple at Wanstead Park – This would be a small yet symbolic act of penance for the misery and cruelty he wrought upon Wanstead House and its ancestral owners.
——–
Images of the St Ives portrait are produced with the kind permission of Parade Antiques, and have been watermarked to preserve their copyright.
If you would like to learn a bit more about Wicked William Long-Wellesley, you might like to find out how he got on when he served under Wellington’s command in Portugal. To learn about William’s over the top entertainments at Wanstead you could join Wicked William’s Hunt – or witness his heartless treatment of Catherine in her final days.
For Wanstead related history you might like to learn about Anne Rushout, Wanstead’s Forgotten Artist – or discover multicultural Wanstead in Thomas Hood’s Tylney Hall
I am currently in the midst of writing up my thesis, which is about ‘Long-Wellesley and Publicity during the Regency period’. I hope to publish more new posts as this year goes on. As usual I would appreciate any feedback, comments, or suggestions.
