James Northcote was one of a number of prominent painters of the 18th century who hailed
from the Plymouth area of Devon, the most notable of whom was Sir Joshua Reynolds, the
founder and first president of the Royal Academy of Arts in London. Today Northcote is
chiefly admired for his portraits, though his paintings of animals found favour in his
lifetime. In his later years he devoted an increasing amount of time to history paintings,
including some scenes from Shakespeare's history plays which were exhibited in
Boydell's
Shakespeare Gallery.
Northcote is renowned also for his writing, penning the first full biography of Reynolds in
1813, and later a Life of Titian, as well as a book of fables lavishly illustrated
by woodcuts crafted from his own designs. He had trenchant and outspoken views on his
fellow artists and other famous figures of the day; these opinions were expressed publicly
in William Hazlitt's Conversations with Northcote that appeared in book form a
year before Northcote's death in 1831. A prolific artist, Northcote was credited with
around 2000 works, and by living frugally in his London house for the last fifty years of
his life he died a wealthy man.
Born in Plymouth on October 22nd 1746, little is known of Northcote's early years, save
that like the illustrious Reynolds before him, he was educated at Plympton Grammar School.
Remarkably for such a small school, two more famous English painters of this period were
former pupils: Benjamin Haydon who become head boy in 1801, and Sir Charles Lock Eastlake
(1793-1865), a one time president of the Royal Academy. The etching of the school reproduced
below dates from 1820.
Founded in 1658 by a bequest from one Elize Hele, it was originally called Hele's School
and was highly regarded in Reynolds' day. Though modest in size by modern standards, the
building impressed Samuel Rowe who wrote in 1821:
This is a handsome edifice in the gothic style, with large antique windows. Below the
school-room, is a spacious piazza, with nine arches, supported by granite pillars, intended
and excellently adapted for school-boy sports in rainy weather. [Rowe
1]
By the mid 19th century the school had entered a period of decline after a failed attempt
to replace the classical curriculum with more commercial courses. With the number of pupils
dwindling and the building falling into disrepair, the school was closed down following the
introduction of state control for secondary education in 1902 and didn't reopen until 1921.
The Grammar School made no lasting impression on Northcote and goes unmentioned in his
memoirs; indeed he criticises his father for leaving him disadvantaged by neglecting his
education:
[He] paid no attention to his children, and but for the prudence of my mother [I] would
never have been taught to read. Reading, writing, and arithmetic was all the school
learning I ever got, and this small portion was not acquired till I myself was sensible of
the want of it, being then near thirteen years of age. [Gwynn
2, p31]
On leaving school Northcote was apprenticed to his father, a humble watchmaker who was
opposed to his son becoming a professional painter. Frustrated in his desire to become an
artist, and feeling like a caged bird, he vowed to make a break from his father:
"..tired of my present mode of life, I decided rather to throw myself on the wide
world.".
In the summer of 1771 he and his elder brother left Plymouth for London telling their
father that they would return within a fortnight. With only 10 guineas in their pocket,
they decided to travel a considerable part of the journey on foot. Northcote relates how,
arriving dishevelled and weary at Woodyates Inn between Blandford and Salisbury, they were
refused a bed for the night and were obliged to sleep in the hayloft with the grooms and
post-boys.
Unknown to either his brother or father, James had in his pocket two other valuable items:
letters of introduction to Sir Joshua Reynolds. One was from Mr Henry Tolcher, a senior
Alderman from the city of Plymouth, who had long been convinced of James's artistic talent.
To the considerable irritation of his friend Samuel Northcote (James's father), Tolcher
frequently counselled him to send his son to London to study painting. The second letter
was from Dr John Mudge, an eminent Plymouth surgeon who was a personal friend of Reynolds.
The day after their arrival in London, Northcote lost no time in delivering his letters to
Reynolds.
Sir Joshua received me with kindness, and offered me any assistance in his power. It is
impossible to surpass the pleasure I now received in breathing, as it may be said, in an
atmosphere of art, until this period being entirely debarred not only from the practice of
art, but even from the sight of pictures of any excellence.
2, p45
James was given the freedom to spend his days copying pictures from Reynold's collection,
and it wasn't long before he was invited to come and live in the house and assist the
master on a permanent basis. Northcote joined two other younger assistants making copies
and painting the draperies on portraits at Reynolds' bidding. During his time with Reynolds
he had occasion to meet with distinguished men of letters such as Oliver Goldsmith and
Samuel Johnson, and the renowned Shakespearean actor David Garrick, who were regular
visitors to Reynolds' house.
After more than four years of this essentially menial work, Northote decided that his
artistic skills were not progressing as they should, and it was time to part company with
Reynolds which he did on amicable terms.
He left the service of Reynolds in 1775, travelling to Portsmouth the following year
before returning to Devon. He managed to save enough from portrait commissions to realise
his ambition of making an extended visit to Italy:
The great object with me was to visit Italy as soon as possible, in hopes to make myself
more able in my profession by seeing and studying the works of the great masters.
2, p117
Aspiring artists from across Europe congregated in Italy at the time, and Northcote
encountered several individuals who would become eminent later in life. Among these was
the painter Henry Fuseli from Zurich, an early exponent of the romantic movement who
later settled permanently in London. Like Northcote, Fuseli lived to a ripe old age, and
the pair were friends and rivals on the London scene for another half century. They both
had sharp tongues, and it was said that they watched each other like game cocks
before a spurring match.
On his return to England three years later, after a short visit to Devon, Northcote moved
back to London where he remained for the rest of his long life, dying aged eight-five with
his faculties unimpaired until the very end.
- Mrs. Smith Barwell. Painted in 1803.
- ©LACMA
On returning to London from his sojourn in Italy, Northcote was hoping to set himself up
as a portrait painter. But, lacking a patron and experiencing considerable competition from
among others the newly arrived and highly regarded Cornishman John Opie, he turned of
necessity to painting "small historical and fancy subjects from the most popular authors
of the day, as such subjects are sure of sale amongst the minor print-dealers, being done in
a short time, and for a small price. 2,
p200"
In Northcote's day the sale of prints was an important source of extra income for an
aspiring professional painter; it was important to work in partnership with a competent
engraver and to paint images that would appeal to the public. One popular print of a
Northcote painting from this period depicted a recent shipwreck: that of Captain Englefield
and eleven of his crew who survived in a small boat after the sinking of the man-of-war
Centaur on return from Jamaica. The print of this scene by Thomas Gaugain is shown
alongside. Gaugain was a French engraver and publisher who collaborated with Northcote on
many occasions, and was his engraver of choice.
Aiming to capitalise on a revival of interest in Shakespeare in the late 18th century, in
1786 the publisher John Boydell and his nephew Josiah embarked on an ambitious scheme to
promote historical painting in London. The Boydells' scheme had three elements: a
purpose-built gallery to exhibit specially commissioned paintings of scenes from
Shakespeare by leading contemporary artists, an illustrated edition of Shakespeare's plays,
and a folio of prints from the gallery items.
Northcote was commissioned to contribute canvases to the Boydell collection from its
inception, and later claimed credit for inspiring the Boydells to embark on their project:
..the 'Murder of the Princes in the Tower' was painted previously to this scheme and had
been some little time in Boydell's possession before the splendid edition of Shakespeare
had been thought upon. This picture had been publicly exhibited at his house in Cheapside,
and it seems not unlikely that this very picture first suggested the scheme to their minds,
as it had been greatly noticed and admired.
2,
p205
An intriguing connection between the 'Murder of the Princes' and his 'Death of Wat
Tyler'
[note 2], a
large canvas also painted for Alderman Boydell who was Lord Mayor of London by this time,
is revealed in this anecdote from Northcote's memoirs:
It was a usual custom with me to take a short walk in the morning between the hours of
eight and ten o'clock into the fields for the benefit of air and exercise. One morning, at
the time I was employed in painting this large composition of the 'Death of Wat Tyler', as
I was walking alone in the field, a man crossed the field and came up to me, which somewhat
decomposed me. I expected to have been robbed, as this was a very ill-looking fellow;
however, the man, probably seeing some good reason at the time not to rob, contented
himself by only asking alms. I told him that I had nothing for him, but that if he would
call at my house I would find employment for him, and then gave my card of direction. Soon
after this fellow came, and from him I painted one of Wat Tyler's rebels, and also one of
the assassins murdering Edward V and his brother in the Tower. This fellow afterwards came
to the house so drunk and appeared so very worthless that I forbid his coming any more
there again for ever.
2, p206
By now Northcote had achieved the recognition he sought. He was elected associate of the
Royal Academy in 1786, and accorded full membership the following spring. Notwithstanding
his new found status, he was chided as a penny-pincher by his detractors; following the
acclaim accorded to his 'Death of Wat Tyler' painting at the 1787 Academy Exhibition,
Fuseli remarked with his customary sarcasm:
Northcote will go home, put an extra piece of coal on his fire, and be almost tempted to
draw the cork of his one pint of wine when he hears such praise.
After initial success, especially with the gallery of paintings in Pall Mall, the Boydell
project eventually foundered partly due to the uneven quality of the material, especially the
engravings for the folio. By the middle of the 1790s the volume of subscriptions for the
folio was in decline, and poor record-keeping of the existing subscriptions was creating
further problems. Eventually the Boydells became insolvent and the Gallery and its contents
were sold off in a lottery. Northcote later made this scathing comment on the efforts of the
lesser known contributors:
With the exception of a few pictures by Joshua and Opie, and, I hope I may add, myself, it
was such a collection of slip-slop imbecility as was dreadful to look at, and turned out,
as I had expected it would, in the ruin of poor Boydell's affairs. [Merchant
3, p75]
- Richard III: Act IV, Scene 3: Murder of the Princes in the Tower. First
painted in 1785.
- Romeo and Juliet: Act V, Scene 3: Juliet awakes, and finds Romeo dead.
First painted in 1789 for Boydell's Shakespeare Gallery.
- Tiger Hunt. A mezzotint with etching by William Annis from an 1804
painting by Northcote.
- ©Royal Academy of Arts
Northcote first began to write for publication in 1807 when he contributed pieces for
various periodicals, and in 1809 he wrote a short memoir on Sir Joshua for John Britton's
series,
Fine Arts of the British School. The first edition of his
Life of
Reynolds5
appeared in 1813. This version contained a number of Northcote's essays that had first seen
light of day in
The Artist magazine which were dropped in the second edition.
His
Life was not merely a life of Reynolds but also a hotchpotch of opinions and
reminiscences taken directly from his hand-written volume of memoirs that formed the basis
of Gwynn's
Memorials2,
discrediting the rumours circulating at the time that Northcote has simply signed a
biography written by someone else. Hazlitt recounts that a certain Mr Laird has assisted
Northcote in readying the book for publication, but it was otherwise in his own hand. The
book has had its critics but was a treasure-trove of anecdotes from the last surviving
member of Reynolds' inner circle.
Essayist William Hazlitt had a long friendship with Northcott, his senior by more than
thirty years, and held him in high regard. Hazlitt published a sequence of their
conversations in the
New Monthly Magazine which were eventually published in
book form as
Conversations with Northcote6. In the following extract from one of
Hazlitt's essays he expounds on why he found Northcote such agreeable company:
The best converser I know is the best listener. I mean Mr Northcote, the painter.
Painters by their profession are not bound to shine in conversation, and they shine the
more. He lends his ear to an observation as if you had brought him a piece of news, and
enters into it with as much avidity and earnestness as if it interested himself
personally. If he repeats an old remark or story, it is with the same freshness and point
as for the first time. It always arises out of the occasion, and has the stamp of
originality. There is no parroting of himself. His look is a continual, ever-varying
history piece of what passes in his mind. His face is as a book.
4
Hazlitt collaborated with Northcote on two other publications, the
Life of Titian
and Northcote's
Fables, but this did little to enhance the writing in this last
work which was the old man's last and most cherished venture. According to Gwynn (referring
to the fables)
neither Hazlitt or anyone else could have redeemed them from
dullness.2, p25
A second edition of the Fables was published posthumously financed by a clause in
his will setting aside between £1000 and £1400 explicitly for this.
This page contains a number of photographic images of out-of-copyright works by James
Northcote. By reproducing these images I am adopting the official position of the
Wikimedia Foundation, which is that faithful photographic reproductions of
public domain works should be considered to be in the public domain. This has been upheld
in the 1999 US court case
Bridgeman Art Library vs Corel Corporation, though it has not been tested in a
UK court. Notwithstanding this, I have attributed the copyrights of these images to the
websites hosting the originals where ascertainable. The copyright notices link to
enlargements on these websites.
Northcote speaks of the daunting challenge of completing such a large and detailed canvas
in Conversations with Northcote, p252:
When I set about the "Wat Tyler", I was frightened at it: it was the largest work I had
ever undertaken: there were to be horses and armour and buildings and several groups in it:
when I looked at it, the canvas seemed ready to fall upon me. But I had committed myself
and could not escape; disgrace was behind me - and every step I made in advance, was ground
positively gained. If I had
staid to make a number of designs and try
different experiments, I never should have had the courage to go on. Half the things that
people do not succeed in, are through fear of making the attempt.
[return]
The Panorama of Plymouth, Or, Tourists' Guide to the Towns and Vicinity of Plymouth,
Devonport and Stonehouse by Samuel Rowe, Plymouth 1821.
[return]
Memorials of an Eighteenth Century Painter (James Northcote) edited by Stephen
Gwynn, London 1898.
Quoted in
Shakespeare and the Artist by W M Merchant, London, 1959.
[return]
From William Hazlitt's essay "On the Conversation of Authors", first published in the
London Magazine, September, 1820 and later reproduced in
The Plain Speaker (1826).
[return]
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