The famous artists of the Continent almost invariably organize schools
of art, converting their studios into miniature academies, surrounding
themselves with pupils and disciples who sit at their feet, listen to
their teaching, assist them by painting for them the less important
portions of their works, adopt their processes, and follow their styles
of drawing and colouring. There is something to be said for the system.
It is an advantage to the young student to be constantly brought into
contact with a real master of the art; to have the opportunity of
working under his supervision, and, on the other hand, of watching him
at his labours, and of witnessing the birth, growth, and completion of
his best pictures. The main objection to the plan is that it may develop
merely imitative ability rather than stimulate genuine originality; that
it inclines the student to follow too scrupulously a beaten track rather
than strike out a fresh pathway for himself. He may reproduce the
virtues of his exemplar's art, but he will certainly copy its vices as
well. And then the difficult question arises: when is he to assert his
independence? At what period in his career is he to cease leaning on his
teacher, and to pursue his own devices unaided and alone? He may have
tied his leading-strings so tightly about him that liberty of thought
and action has become almost impossible to him, and the free use of his
limbs, so to speak, has gone from him. It is quite true that the artist
should be a student all his life; but then he should be a student of art
generally, not of any one professor of art in particular, or he will be
simply the pupil of a great master to the end of the chapter, never a
great master himself.
Objection to a system of instruction that may tend to perpetuate
mannerism, to cramp originality, and fetter genius, has of late years
led to considerable opposition to art-academies generally, whenever more
is contemplated by them than the mere school-teaching of the pupil, and
the affording him assistance at the outset of his professional life.
Haydon was fond of declaring 'that academies all over Europe were
signals of distress thrown out to stop the decay of art,' but that they
had failed egregiously, and rather hastened the result they had intended
to hinder. Fuseli asserted that 'all schools of painters, whether public
or private, supported by patronage or individual contribution, were and
are symptoms of art in distress, monuments of public dereliction and
decay of taste.' He proceeded afterwards to defend such schools,
however, as the asylum of the student, the theatre of his exercises, the
repositories of the materials, the archives of art, whose principles
their officers were bound to maintain, and for the preservation of which
they were responsible to posterity, etc. Dr. Waagen was of opinion that
the academic system gave an artificial elevation to mediocrity; that it
deadened natural talent, and introduced into the freedom of art an
unsalutary degree of authority and interference. The late Horace Vernet
entertained similar views, recommending the suppression of the French
Academy at Rome. M. Say (the Adam Smith of France) held that all
Academies were in truth hostile to the fine arts; and a report of a
committee of the English House of Commons (1836) went far in the same
direction, venturing to predict the probability 'that the principle of
free competition in art as in commerce would ultimately triumph over all
artificial institutions,' and that 'governments might at some future
period content themselves with holding out prizes or commissions to the
different but co-equal societies of artists, and refuse the dangerous
gift of pre-eminence to any.'
In England the school of the individual great artist upon the
continental plan seems to have had no counterpart. Favourite
portrait-painters have, now and then, employed a staff of subordinates
to paint the draperies, and fill in the backgrounds of their works, but
the persons thus employed have been mechanicians rather than artists.
Northcote was the pupil of Reynolds, and Harlowe was taught by Lawrence;
but in neither case was there much attempt at maintaining a school of
manner, as it would be understood out of England. The works of Northcote
and Harlowe contain traces of the teaching of their preceptors little
more than do the productions of their contemporaries, and they certainly
bequeathed no distinct traditions of style to their successors. In
England the foundation of a National Academy, or of an institution in
any measure manifesting the characteristics of a National Academy, took
place long subsequent to the rise of the foreign Academies. And the
English Royal Academy, as at present constituted, cannot be said to
occupy a position analogous to that of foreign academies. As was
expressed in the Report of the Parliamentary Committee of 1836: 'It is
not a public national institution like the French Academy, since it
lives by exhibition and takes money at the door, yet it possesses many
of the privileges of a public body without bearing the direct burthen of
public responsibility.' Or, as was succinctly explained by Mr.
Westmacott, himself an academician, before the commissioners appointed
in 1863 to inquire into the position of the Royal Academy: 'When we wish
not to be interfered with we are private, when we want anything of the
public we are public;' and then he goes on to say: 'The Academy is
distinctly a private institution, and, admitting it is not perfect,
doing great public good all for nothing,' _i.e_., without charge. Mr.
Westmacott was unconsciously pleading guilty to Haydon's accusation that
'the academicians constituted in truth a private society, which they
always put forward when you wish to examine them, and they always
proclaim themselves a public society when they want to benefit by any
public vote.'
For long years the sentiment had prevailed in England that art was no
affair of the State, had no sort of interest for the governing power of
the country, or indeed for the general public; and it was, of course,
left to those persons to whom an Academy of Art was in any way a matter
of necessity or importance, to found such an institution for themselves.
Certainly the encouragement given to the painter during the first half
of the eighteenth century was insignificant enough. He was viewed much
as the astrologer or the alchemist; his proceedings, the world argued,
were sufficiently foolish and futile, but still harmless; he was not
particularly in anybody's way, and therefore it was not worth anybody's
while to molest or displace him. But as for patronizing, or valuing, or
rewarding him, turning upon him the light of the royal countenance, or
cheering him with popular applause, those were quite other matters.
King, and Court, and people had vastly different things to think about.
He was just suffered, not succoured in any way. He must get on as well
as he could, educating, improving, helping himself. As for aid from the
State, that was absolutely out of the question.
For the benefit of his brother artists and of himself, therefore, Sir
Godfrey Kneller, who had lived in happier times, so far as art was
concerned--for the Stuarts had some love for poetry and painting, though
the Hanoverian sovereigns had not--instituted a private drawing Academy
in London in the year 1711. Of this Academy, Vertue, who collected the
materials for the 'Anecdotes of Painting,' which Walpole digested and
published, was one of the first members, studying there some years; and
it was probably of this institution that Hogarth wrote in 1760,
describing it as founded by some gentlemen painters of the first rank,
who, in imitation of the Academy of France, introduced certain forms and
solemnities into their proceedings which were objectionable to several
members, and led to divisions and jealousies in the general body.
Finally, the president and his followers, finding themselves caricatured
and opposed, locked out their opponents and closed the Academy.
Sir James Thornhill, who had headed the most important of the parties
into which the institution had become divided, and who held the
appointment of historical painter to George I., then submitted to the
Government of the day a plan for the foundation of a Royal Academy which
should encourage and educate the young artists of England. He proposed
that a suitable building, with apartments for resident professors,
should be erected at the upper end of the King's Mews, Charing Cross.
The cost of carrying out this plan was estimated at little more than
three thousand pounds; but although Lord Treasurer Halifax gave his
support, the Government negatived the proposition, and declined to find
the necessary means.
Sir James, not altogether daunted by his ill success, determined to do
what he could on his own responsibility, and without aid from the
Treasury. He opened a Drawing Academy, therefore, at his house in James
Street, Covent Garden, on the east side, where, as a writer in 1804
describes the situation, 'the back offices and painting-room abutted
upon Langford's (then Cock's) Auction Room in the Piazza,' and gave
tickets to all who desired admission. It is to be feared that Sir
James's generosity was somewhat abused. Certain it is that dissensions
arose in his Academy as in Kneller's; that one Vandrebank headed an
opposition party, and at length withdrew with his adherents to found a
rival school. According to Hogarth, 'he converted an old meeting-house
into an Academy, and introduced a female figure to make it more inviting
to subscribers.' But this establishment did not last long, the
subscriptions were not forthcoming, and the fittings and furniture of
the school were seized for debt. Upon the death of Sir James, in 1734,
his Academy was also closed.
But a school had now become indispensably necessary to the artists of
the day. After a time they forgot their differences, and again united.
Hogarth had become possessed of his father-in-law Sir James Thornhill's
furniture, which he was willing to lend to an association of artists
founding a new school; a subscription was accordingly arranged, and a
room 'large enough to admit of thirty or forty persons drawing after a
naked figure,' was hired in the house of Mr. Hyde, a painter in
Greyhound Court, Arundel Street, Strand. Hogarth, attributing the
failure of preceding academies to an assumption of superior authority on
the part of members whose subscriptions were of largest amount, proposed
that all members should equally contribute to the maintenance of the
establishment, and should possess equal rights of voting on all
questions relative to its affairs. For many years this academy, which,
in 1738, removed to more convenient premises[6] in Peter's Court, St.
Martin's Lane, existed in a most satisfactory manner. To this school of
Hogarth's, as we may fairly consider it, the majority of the English
painters of the reign of George II. and the early part of George III.,
owed much of their art education. Perhaps the success of the school was
due in great part to the discretion and good management of the artist
who had been nominated its chief instructor: George Michael Moser, a
gold and silver chaser, enameller and modeller, Swiss by birth.
Something also it owed to its unpretentious yet practical and
utilitarian character. The artists were bound together by mutual
convenience; their school, conferring no degrees, aiming at no
distinction, was of equal advantage to all. It was strictly a private
institution, in no way attracting to itself public notice or asking for
aid from the public purse.
[6] Roubiliac's first workshop.
In 1734 there had been founded in England the Dilettanti Society,
composed of noblemen and gentlemen who had travelled abroad, and
professed a taste for the fine arts. In 1749, this society found itself
rich and influential enough to contemplate the establishment of an
academy of art, and even took steps to obtain a site on the south side
of Cavendish Square, and to purchase Portland stone for the erection
there of a building adapted to the purpose, on the plan of the Temple at
Pola. The society then put itself in correspondence with the School of
Painters in St. Martin's Lane, asking for co-operation and assistance in
the carrying out of the project. The painters, however, according to Sir
Robert Strange's account of the transaction, held back: they objected to
aid in the formation of an academy of art which was not to be under the
absolute rule and government of artists. Thereupon the Dilettanti
Society declined to find funds for the foundation of an institute over
which, when completed, they were to possess no influence whatever, in
the management of which they were to be absolutely without voice; and
the negotiation was accordingly brought to an abrupt conclusion. (We may
note here that, curiously enough, the Royal Commission of 1863 proposed,
in some degree, a reversion to this abortive project, and recommended
the introduction of a lay element into the governing body of the
present Royal Academy.)
The proposal of the Dilettanti Society, though rejected, seems yet,
after the lapse of a few years, to have tempted the painters in St.
Martin's Lane to enlarge the boundaries of their institution. In 1753
they fancied the time had come when, with the support of the general
body of artists in England, an effort might be made to found a national
academy. A circular was addressed to all the well-known artists by
Francis Milner Newton, the secretary of the school in St. Martin's Lane,
calling their attention to a scheme for establishing a public academy of
painting, sculpture and architecture, for erecting a suitable building,
receiving subscriptions, appointing professors, making regulations for
the instruction of students, etc. The circular concluded by requesting
attendance at a meeting to be held at the Turk's Head, in Gerard Street,
Soho, when the election of thirteen painters, three sculptors, one
chaser, two engravers, and two architects, in all twenty-one, for the
purposes of the academy, would be proceeded with. But this scheme met
with little support, and was abandoned. Its projectors, defeated and
ridiculed--the subjects of several caricatures of the period--had to
fall back again among their fellow-artists, probably with little
advantage to the harmony of the general body.
Yet the plan of an academy, though it had met with very inconsiderable
encouragement, was not suffered to die out absolutely; somehow the
thing took root, and even grew, in a measure, making no very great sign
of vitality however. But it produced a pamphlet now and then--found
unexpected advocates here and there, dragged on a sickly, invalid sort
of existence. In 1755, a committee of artists resumed the idea, but this
time they appeared to the sympathies of the general public, proposing to
raise an academy as charitable institutions are established, by aid of
popular benevolence, and to apply for a charter of incorporation from
the Crown, the terms of the charter being formally drawn up, and even
published. The prospectus made handsome mention of the pecuniary
assistance which had been some time before proffered by the Dilettanti
Society; whereupon the society renewed its promise of support, and
re-opened negotiations with the committee of artists. But difficulties
again arose. Sir Robert Strange, who attended the meetings of the
parties, found on the part of the Dilettanti Society 'that generosity
and benevolence which are peculiar to true greatness;' but on the side
of the majority of the artists, he regretted to observe 'motives
apparently limited to their own views and ambition to govern.' Again the
negotiation was broken off, the project went to pieces, and now the hope
of establishing a national academy in England seemed in its worst
plight--hopeless--gone down to zero.
In 1757, Hogarth, on the resignation of his brother-in-law, Mr.
Thornhill, was appointed, in the sixtieth year of his age, painter to
the king. Hogarth, it may be noted, had always opposed the attempt to
found an academy. He supported the plan of an art-school, deeming such
an institution of practical value to the painter. But he appears to have
thought that an academy would only multiply portrait painters, of whom
there was quite a sufficiency, would not create a demand for works of
real art-value, or improve the taste of patrons in that respect. In
1758, Hogarth's idea of an art-school met with unexpected support in the
opening of the Duke of Richmond's Gallery of Casts and Statues at
Whitehall. Invitation to students was given by public advertisements.
For a time Cipriani gave instruction in the gallery, and it is recorded
that the result was a purer taste among British artists in the drawing
of the human figure than they had previously displayed.
And now help was to come to the plan of an academy from a most
unexpected source, in a most accidental way. In the reign of George II.,
if little was done for art and artists, great interest was displayed in
works of public benevolence. From that period dates the rise of very
many national hospitals and charitable institutions of various kinds.
Among others, the London Foundling Hospital, which was incorporated in
1739, and received especial favour and support from the legislature and
the public. To the sympathy with the objects of this charity displayed
by the artists, are attributable the first recognition of them by the
nation as a community meriting regard and assistance; and ultimately
the rise and progress of an Academy of Art in England.
In 1740, when Handel came forward to aid the funds of the charity by the
performance of his oratorios, Hogarth presented to the governors of the
institution his famous portrait of Captain Coram, and designed an
emblematical decoration to be placed over the chief entrance of the
hospital, then in Hatton Garden. In 1745, the west wing of the present
edifice in Guildford Street being completed, other artists followed
Hogarth's example, and presented, or promised to present, to the
hospital specimens of their art. In 1746, the grateful court of the
charity elected its artist-benefactors--Hayman, Hudson, Allan Ramsay,
Lambert (the scene-painter), Wilson, Moser, Pine, Hogarth, and Rysbrack
(the sculptor), among them--to be governors, with leave to dine at the
hospital, at their own expense, on the 5th of November in each year, to
commemorate the landing of King William III., and 'to consider what
further ornaments might be added to the building without expense to the
charity.' For many years the artists availed themselves of this
opportunity--met, dined, drank claret and punch, and discussed
professional affairs to their hearts' content.
The Foundling had become quite a pet charity with Parliament and people.
It was assisted by donations from the Crown and grants from Government;
while voluntary contributions from the public flowed liberally into its
treasury. From 1756 to 1760 nearly 15,000 children were received into
the asylum. The open, uninquiring system, still existing on the
Continent, then prevailed. A basket hung at the gate, in which to
deposit the child, on whose behalf the aid of the institution was to be
invoked; a bell was then rung to give notice was forthwith received and
provided for. The hospital to the officers of the establishment, and the
foundling became the resort and rendezvous of all classes. The public
seemed never to weary of watching over and visiting its _protégés_, and
the donations of the artists which adorned the walls of the hospital,
were greatly admired and talked about, and soon became of themselves a
decided source of attraction. The nation began to appreciate the fact
that it possessed some really excellent English painters, and the
painters made the discovery that there existed a large public interested
in them and in their doings, and prepared to give favour and support to
an exhibition of works of art.
In November 1759, a meeting was held at the Turk's Head, Gerard Street,
Soho, which seems to have been a sort of house of call for artists, as
well as for literary men,[7] when it was resolved that once in every
year, at a place to be appointed by a committee, chosen annually, for
carrying the design into execution, there should be held an exhibition
of the performances of painters, sculptors, architects, engravers,
chasers, seal-cutters, and medallists, the profits to be expended in
charity--'towards the support of those artists whose age and
infirmities, or other lawful hindrances, prevent them from being any
longer candidates for fame;' the charge for admittance to be one
shilling each person. A committee of sixteen was chosen, consisting of
six painters, two sculptors, two architects, two engravers, one
seal-cutter, one chaser, one medallist, and the secretary, to which
office Mr. Francis William Newton had been appointed, to carry out the
views of the meeting.
[7] It was at the Turk's Head that were held the meetings of the famous
LITERARY CLUB, founded by Reynolds. Johnson, Burke, Dr. Nugent,
Beauclerk, Langton, Goldsmith, Mr. Chamier, and Sir John Hawkins were
the other original members.
Application was then made to the Society of Arts, which had been
established five years previously by Mr. Shipley, of Northampton
(brother of the bishop of St. Asaph), to permit the use of its rooms,
then in the Strand, opposite Beaufort Buildings, for the purposes of the
proposed exhibition. The Society gave its consent, deciding that the
period of exhibition should be from the 21st of April to the 8th of May,
and only objecting to the proposal that money should be taken at the
doors for admission. This objection was removed by admitting the public
gratis, and charging sixpence for the catalogue of the works of art on
view. Sixty-nine artists sent works to the exhibition. The number of
works exhibited was 130. The Society's rooms were crowded to
inconvenience; the exhibition was a great success. There was a sale of
6582 catalogues; the proceeds enabling the committee to defray all
expenses, to purchase £100 consols, and to retain a small balance in
hand. No record was kept of the number of visitors to the exhibition;
the purchase of catalogues was not obligatory, so the amount sold is
hardly a clue to the number of visitors. Many doubtless dispensed with
catalogues altogether, and many borrowed from their friends. But the
results of the exhibition satisfied its warmest well-wishers.
There was but one drawback to the general satisfaction. The Society of
Arts conceived itself at liberty to exhibit among the other works the
drawings of certain of its students, whose industry and merit had
entitled them to gold medals and other rewards. The untutored public,
misled by the talk about prizes, persisted in regarding these juvenile
essays as the works judged by the _cognoscenti_ to be the most
meritorious of the whole exhibition, and rendered them the homage of
extraordinary attention and admiration accordingly. Mature professors of
art had to endure the mortification of finding their best productions
passed over by the unskilful multitude, and the highest praises awarded
to mere beginners. The newspapers of the day--newspapers have never been
very learned in art matters--fell into the same delusion, and in their
notices of the exhibition, paid attention only to these most over-rated
prize-holders.
But, altogether, the artists had good cause to be satisfied. They had
held the first exhibition of works of art in England, and the exhibition
had thoroughly succeeded. They had opened up a new source of profit to
themselves in the display of their productions. They had obtained from
the general public recognition of themselves and their profession. The
Crown might be negligent of them, the State might be apathetic as to
affairs of art, aristocratic patrons might be led astray by the _ignis
fatuus_ of love of the old masters, by the fashionable tastes for
antiquities; but here was 'the million' on the side of its artist
compatriots; the voice of the nation had declared itself in favour of
the nation's art. Really there seemed at last to be hope, if not
something more, for the English painter, and the long-looked-for English
academy appeared fairly discernible on the horizon.
The decided success of the exhibition in the Strand was yet attended by
certain disadvantages. Ill-fortune would probably have closely united
the artists; prosperity seems to have divided them--to have engendered
among them jealousies and dissensions. The proceeds of the exhibition
soon proved a source of encumbrance and difficulty to the exhibitors.
Their original intention had been to apply their profits to the relief
of distressed painters. But now among a certain party a strong feeling
was manifested in favour of devoting the money to the advancement of
art. Finally it was resolved that the matter should stand over until the
funds should have accumulated to the amount of £500, and that a vote of
the majority of artists should then decide the question.
Further evidences of disorganization and want of definite aim were to
come. While many artists desired to continue relations with the Society
of Arts, others regarded the conditions imposed by that Society as
vexatious and embarrassing. Particularly they objected to the
introduction into their exhibition of the works of the Society's
students. They represented further that the exhibition had been 'crowded
and incommoded by the intrusion of persons whose stations and educations
disqualified them for judging of statuary and painting, and who were
made idle and tumultuous by the opportunity of attending a show;' and by
way of remedy, proposed that in future the price of the catalogue should
be one shilling, and that no person should be admitted without one, but
that a catalogue once purchased should serve as a ticket of admission
during the season. The Society of Arts, however, distinctly refused
assent to these changes. The dispute quickened, waxed warm. Finally a
large and distinguished section of the artists, comprising in its ranks
the committee of sixteen who had managed the first exhibition,
determined to sever their connexion with the Society of Arts, and to
assert their independence. They accordingly engaged a room of an
auctioneer in Spring Gardens for a display of their works during May
1761. The more timid party still clung to the friendly Society in the
Strand, and there held a second exhibition. From the spring of 1761,
therefore, there were two exhibitions of works of art in London.
The exhibitors in Spring Gardens styled themselves the 'Society of
Artists of Great Britain;' the old committee of sixteen being at the
head of the affairs of the new society. The designs on their catalogue
by Wale and Hogarth demonstrated their intention to devote their revenue
to the relief of the distressed. Of the catalogue, rendered attractive
by these embellishments, 13,000 copies were sold. No charge was made for
admission; but the purchase of a catalogue was made imperative. The
catalogue, however, was a ticket of admission for the season. The
receipts of the exhibition of 1761 amounted to £650.
At the other exhibition in the Strand, to which sixty-five artists
contributed, the old system prevailed. Visitors were at liberty to
purchase a catalogue or not, as they chose; but a check was placed upon
the indiscriminate admission of all classes by requiring from visitors
the production of tickets which had been distributed gratuitously by the
exhibitors, and were readily obtainable. After defraying all expenses
the exhibition produced upwards of £150, which sum was appropriated in
benefactions--to the Middlesex Hospital £50, to the British Lying-in
Hospital £50, to the Asylum for Female Orphans £50, the small balance
remaining after these donations being distributed among distressed
artists. In the following year the Strand exhibitors took the first
practical measures for founding a provident society for the benefit of
British artists by forming themselves into an organized body, with a
constitution and rules for their proper government, and assuming the
title of 'The Free Society of Artists, Associated for the Relief of the
Distressed and Decayed Brethren, their Widows and Children.' The society
was to be maintained by the sale of the catalogues of an annual
exhibition, or by charging for admission to such exhibition, as a
committee of management to be chosen every year should determine; such
committee having also power to reject the works sent in that they might
deem unworthy of exhibition, and to hang or dispose of accepted works
'without respect to persons.' Every artist who contributed works to the
exhibition for five years in succession, intermission by reason of
illness or absence from the country not being a disqualification, was to
be a perpetual member of the society and entitled to share in its
benefits and privileges. In 1763 the institution took legal shape, and
was 'enrolled of record in His Majesty's Court of King's Bench,' fifty
members signing the roll.
Meanwhile the rival association had not been idle. It had increased the
number of its committee from sixteen to twenty-four; this committee
exercising absolute authority over the affairs of the society. Vacancies
in its numbers were filled up by the remaining committee-men, without
reference to the society, while it enjoined upon its members that its
transactions should be kept a profound secret from the general body of
the society. Already a love of rule seems to have gained upon this
committee. Its members began to regard themselves in the light of
academicians for life--as perpetual governors, rather than officers of
the society, removable at its pleasure: an erroneous view of their
position which led to much trouble in the sequel. Other changes had
taken place--a charge of one shilling was made for admission to the
exhibition of 1762, the catalogue being given gratis, and appended to
the catalogue appeared an address written on behalf of the society by
Dr. Johnson, explaining the objects of the exhibition, the reason for
charging for admission to it, and a change that had been determined upon
in regard to the appropriation of the society's revenues. 'The purpose
of this exhibition,' declared the address, 'is not to enrich the
artists, but to advance the art; the eminent are not flattered by
preference, nor the obscure insulted with contempt. Whoever hopes to
deserve public favour is here invited to display his merit.' When the
terms of admission were low, it was stated, the rooms 'were thronged
with such multitudes as made access dangerous, and frightened away those
whose approbation was most desired.' A curious plan for appropriating
the expected profits was then set forth. The works sent in for
exhibition were to be reviewed by the committee of management, and a
price secretly set on every work and registered by the secretary. At
the close of the exhibition the works were to be sold by auction; if
they sold for more than the price fixed by the committee, the artists
were to receive the increased amount, but if they sold for less, then
the deficiency was to be made up to the artists out of the profits of
the exhibition. For the most part the pictures at the subsequent sale by
auction did not realize the prices set upon them by the committee, and
upwards of £120 had to be paid to the artists out of the exhibition
funds. Upon the whole, the plan did not work very well. The society's
attempt to come between buyer and seller satisfied neither party. After
this one experiment, the scheme was abandoned.
The society had, however, little reason to complain of want of public
support. In 1762 the exhibition produced over £520, and in 1763, £560.
In 1764, the receipts rose to £760. But the internal economy of the
institution was in a less satisfactory state. Many members expressed
discontent at the arbitrary power exercised by the committee--a
permanent body, not always recruited from the best sources, for many of
the most eminent artists declined to accept office, or were neglectful
of their duties as committee-men, so that ultimately there seemed to be
danger of the whole government of the society falling into the hands of
the least competent, if the most active, of its members. And the society
was much in want of a distinct legal status. After all, it was but a
private sort of corporation most imperfectly constituted; it was growing
rich without its property being regularly secured to it. Enrolment was
not regarded as sufficiently answering this object, and it was proposed
at a general meeting of the members that the Crown should be solicited
to incorporate the society by charter. The committee, content with the
existing state of things under which they exercised extreme authority,
opposed these projects. However, the general body proved too strong for
them; the charter was petitioned for and granted on the 26th of January
1765. In substance it followed the terms of the charter which had been
proposed by the artists ten years before, when an attempt had been made
to establish an academy 'on general benevolence.' It placed no limit to
the number of the society's members, or 'Fellows,' as they were
thenceforward to be called; the committee-men being designated
'Directors.' It gave the society arms, a crest, a constitution, power to
hold land (not exceeding the yearly value of £1000), to sue and to be
sued, etc.; and it authorized the society, every St. Luke's Day, to
elect Directors to serve for the ensuing year. In other respects the
charter was somewhat indefinite; but it was presumed that under the
power to make bye-laws, all points in dispute might be finally dealt
with and adjusted. The 'Fellows' were disposed to be conciliatory. They
elected the late committee to be the first 'Directors,' under the
charter. Everything seemed to promise well. Two hundred and eleven
artists signed the roll of the society, promising to the utmost of their
power to observe and conform to the statutes and orders, and to promote
the honour and interest of the 'Society of Incorporated Artists of Great
Britain.'
But between the Fellows and the Directors there seems to have been but a
hollow truce after all. They were bent upon different plans and objects.
The Fellows entertained practical views enough. The only academy of art
was still the very inadequate private school in St. Martin's Lane--a
distinct institution, a common resort of artists, whether members of a
society or not. The Fellows desired out of the funds of their society to
found a public academy of a high class, that should be of real value to
the profession. The Directors, among whom the architects Chambers and
Payne were remarkably active, proposed, on the other hand, 'that the
funds should be laid out in the decoration of some edifice adapted to
the objects of the institution.' The Fellows declared that in this
project the society, as a whole, had no interest; and at a general
meeting in March 1767, they carried a resolution 'that it should be
referred to the Directors to consider a proper, form for instituting a
public academy, and to lay the same before the meeting in September
next.' An attempt was then made on the part of the Directors to comply
with the terms of this resolution, and yet to reserve the funds of the
society for the future carrying out of their own pet scheme.
Dalton, an artist of very inconsiderable fame, who held the appointment
of librarian to the King, was treasurer to the Incorporated Society, and
a leading member of its direction. He had, some time previously,
attempted to establish a print warehouse in Pall Mall, but the
speculation had signally failed; accordingly the speculator had been
left with very expensive premises on his hands. He now conceived that
his warehouse might readily be converted into a very respectable academy
of arts, and he contrived to obtain the King's encouragement of the
plan. Soon, at another general meeting, the Fellows were informed that
the King intended to take the fine arts under his special protection,
and to institute a public academy under royal patronage. At these good
tidings opposition ceased. The resolution passed at the March meeting of
the society was at once repealed. Universal satisfaction prevailed;
there was great rejoicing among the Fellows at the brilliant prospects
dawning upon art and artists. The words 'Royal Academy' were substituted
for 'Print Warehouse' over the door of Mr. Dalton's house in Pall Mall.
The subscribers to the school in St. Martin's Lane, on the
representation of Mr. Moser that they would thenceforward have free
access to the Royal Academy, that their school would be thus superseded,
and that their furniture would consequently be of no further use to
them, were prevailed upon to assign to him their anatomical figures,
busts, statues, lamps, and other effects and fittings, which were
forthwith removed to Pall Mall. But bitter disappointment was to follow
all this hopefulness and satisfaction. It soon appeared that there was
no money applicable to the support of the royal establishment. The King
had given nothing. The Directors would consent to no outlay from the
society's funds. The Royal Academy was to be self-supporting. The
artists had in truth gained not at all--were in a somewhat worse
position than before. They were required to pay an annual fee of one
guinea to an academy in which their comfort and convenience were less
studied than in the old school in St. Martin's Lane. For now the
disturbing element of non-professional membership was permitted. Any
person, not intending to study, was allowed entrance to the academy, on
payment of an annual guinea. The discontent of the artists was extreme,
and was vehemently expressed.
Public interest in the society, however, had meanwhile in no way abated.
The exhibition of 1767 produced over eleven hundred pounds. But the
dissensions of the Directors and Fellows had become notorious---
arrested general attention, and attracted the comments and censures of
the newspapers. The Fellows forthwith determined to effect a change in
the composition of the directorate, whose oppression and mismanagement
had been, as they judged, so fatal to the interests of the general body.
It was proposed that a bye-law should be passed, rendering compulsory
the retirement of eight out of the twenty-four Directors every year, and
that the retiring Directors should be replaced by other members of the
society. But this not unreasonable proposition was strenuously resisted
by the Directors, who argued that by the terms of the charter exclusive
authority to originate new laws was vested in them absolutely. It was at
length determined between the contending parties that the question
should be decided by a reference to the opinion of the Attorney-General.
The Directors, after much procrastination, drew up and submitted their
case. The Attorney-General (Mr. William de Grey, afterwards Lord
Walsingham) was of opinion, in answer to the questions put to him, that
under the charter the Directors were to make laws, and the general body
to approve or reject the same, and that, therefore, the Directors were
not bound to take into consideration a resolution of a general meeting
in order to form it into a bye-law. But it was suggested that the
Directors should consider how far it might be prudent to accept such a
resolution, 'since the same majority that resolved might unite in
electing Directors of the same opinion with themselves, especially in
the case of resolutions that appeared to be reasonable and proper;' the
Attorney-General being further of opinion that the proposed bye-law was
not in any way inconsistent with the terms of the society's charter.
Upon this opinion the Fellows acted. They submitted to the Directors the
enactment of a bye-law rendering no more than sixteen of the existing
Directors capable of being re-elected for the year ensuing. The
Directors were obstinate: they declared that the proposed law would be
an attack on the freedom of elections, a dangerous innovation, and an
ungrateful return for all the exertions they had made on behalf of the
society. At the general meeting following this, held on St. Luke's day,
the 18th of October 1768, the struggle terminated: the Fellows, made
less moderate by opposition, elected sixteen of their number to fill the
places of sixteen old Directors, who were superseded and deposed. Mr.
Joshua Kirby was appointed president in the room of Mr. Hayman, who had
succeeded to that post on the death of Mr. Lambert in 1765; Mr. Newton
and Mr. Dalton were removed from the offices of secretary and treasurer.
On the 10th November the eight remaining of the old Directors declared
that they could not act with their new colleagues, believing them bent
upon measures repugnant to the charter and tending to the destruction of
the society; and accordingly they placed their resignations in the hands
of Mr. Kirby, the new president. They desired to be understood, however,
as not objecting to all the new Directors. On the contrary, they
professed to entertain the highest esteem for Mr. Kirby himself and
'some others,' who had been elected to their offices without taking
part in any intrigue, and who, as being men of honour and ability in
their professions, were extremely proper persons to fill the places they
occupied. The conflict was thus brought to a close. The Fellows had
delivered their society from the persistent misrule under which it had
so long suffered. The price of this emancipation was, in the first
place, the loss of all the twenty-four Directors. Further and more
important results, however, were to be forthcoming.
Meanwhile, brief mention must be made of the transactions of the smaller
institution--the Free Society of Artists. Adherence to the Society of
Arts, though it brought with it restriction as to charging for admission
to the annual exhibitions, and made the sale of catalogues almost its
only source of revenue, was yet maintained by the Free Society for four
years. But, in 1765, the Free Society no longer availed itself of the
premises of the Society of Arts. An independent exhibition was then
opened at a large room, hired for the purpose, in Maiden Lane, Covent
Garden, being part of the warehouse of Mr. Moreing, an upholsterer; and
the exhibition of the following year was also held in the same place. In
1767 and 1768 the Society exhibited in two large rooms at the bottom of
the Haymarket, Pall Mall. The Society published from time to time
statements of its progress. In one of these the growth of the Society,
its utility, and purposes, are plainly set forth. Every member
afflicted with illness and applying for relief had been assisted with
donations of from three, five, ten, fifteen, twenty, up to one hundred
guineas. The Society possessed funds applicable to the purposes of
benevolence to the amount of £1200. With a continuance of public favour
the Society trusted to be able in a few years, not only to provide for
its distressed, but 'to found an academy, and to give premiums for the
encouragement of every branch in the polite arts.' Up to 1768 one
hundred members had signed the Society's roll.
The story of the two societies has thus been brought down to 1768. From
that year dates the rise of a third society--the Royal Academy of Arts:
an institution which has long outlived its rivals, which has indeed fed
upon and gained strength from their decay and decease, as at the outset
it owed its existence to the success of their previous efforts, and
which, in spite of constant opposition and bitterest attack, flourishes
still, as though possessed of that longevity which is proverbially the
attribute of the threatened. 'The Academy,' said Haydon, 'originated in
the very basest intrigue.' Undoubtedly there was intrigue in connexion
with its origin, but not necessarily of the 'very basest' character.
Some allowance must be made for 'poor human nature.' The contest
dividing the Incorporated Society had been a very keen one--had been
distinguished by much angry feeling and acrimonious spirit. It was
hardly to be supposed that the defeated party, the sixteen expelled
Directors and the additional eight who retired in sympathy with the
expulsion of their colleagues, would sit down patiently under their
defeat: their disgrace as they considered it. They had declined to
regard themselves as members of a fluctuating committee, although such
was distinctly their legal position, removable at the will of the
society. For eight years they had held the reins of power; the
supposition that these were to be theirs for life had some excuse, and
they argued that their displacement, if in accordance with the letter of
the law, was yet contrary to its spirit. It was true a majority was
against them; but they found fault with the composition of the majority.
There had been, they declared, too indiscriminate an admission of
Fellows. Inferior practitioners, troublesome, pragmatical, jealous,
anxious for power, had availed themselves of the loose terms of the
charter, to creep into the society, and conspire against the legitimate
influence of the respectable members. This was the Directors' view of
the case. What was now to be their course? Should they submit, serve
where they had once ruled, sink into simple Fellows, and thus, as it
were, grace the triumph of their foes? Perish the thought! They would
found a rival society!
It must not be understood that the Directors, as opposed to the Fellows,
were wholly without friends in the society. Though outnumbered, they had
yet a certain small following; while many held aloof from both parties,
ill-pleased at the virulence with which their dissensions had been
conducted. Reynolds in particular declined all interference in the
contentions which were rending in twain the society. He had long
withdrawn himself from the meetings of the Directors, declaring himself
no friend to their proceedings, and when he discovered their intention
'to raise up a schism in the arts,' as Sir Robert Strange phrases it,
and make a separate exhibition, he declared that he would exhibit with
neither body.
An exhibition of the works of the ex-Directors in competition with the
exhibition of the Fellows would have been fair play enough--a perfectly
legitimate and honourable proceeding. It would then have rested with the
public to declare which exhibition displayed the greater amount of merit
and was the more worthy of their encouragement and support. Further, the
attempt on the part of the Directors to obtain the favour of the King
for their undertaking was hardly to be blamed. But what was distinctly
unjustifiable in their proceedings was their intriguing to secure a
monopoly of this favour: to possess themselves exclusively of the royal
patronage, to the detriment and ultimate ruin, not merely of the society
their own connexion with which had been so violently severed, but of the
unoffending and praiseworthy smaller institution--the Free Society. In
this matter, however, it must be said, the ex-Directors were not alone
to blame. Other patrons of art may exhibit themselves, if they please,
as partisans, but a royal patron should not condescend to a position at
once so inequitable and so undignified. To this derogation, however,
George III., good-humouredly weak or pertinaciously obtuse, suffered
himself to be brought. He became the patron of a clique, and even
yielded himself as an instrument to be employed for the injury of that
clique's antagonists. Whatever had been the faults of the other
societies as against the founders of the Royal Academy--and it must be
admitted that the Free Society was, perfectly blameless in that
respect,--as against the Crown they had done nothing to merit royal
displeasure, but, on the contrary, were entitled, with the other
enlightened institutions of the country, to count upon the King's
encouragement.
Some such demon as, whispering in the ear of Visto, bade him 'Have a
taste!' had been wheedling George in. The King proclaimed himself a
patron of the arts, and then proceeded to assume the airs of a
connoisseur. Certainly he did not distinguish himself much in that
capacity; his pretensions were not backed by any real learning. He made
woeful mistakes. For instance, he never appreciated Reynolds,[8] whose
merits one would think were sufficiently patent--needed not a conjurer
to perceive them--passing him over to appoint Allan Ramsay serjeant
painter, when Hogarth dying vacated that honorary office. He preferred
West's works, because they were smoother--and Dance's, because they
were cheaper!
[8] It has been alleged that the King objected to Reynolds on account of
the painter's friendship for Burke and Fox.
West was the King's pet painter. Dr. Drummond, Archbishop of York, had
obtained for him, in February 1768, the honour of an audience. The
artist took with him to the palace a picture, 'Agrippina landing with
the Ashes of Germanicus,' which he had executed for the archbishop. The
King greatly admired the work, and West forthwith received the royal
command to paint 'The Departure of Regulus for Rome.' Later in the year
a sketch of the picture was submitted to the King. At this time the
newspapers were full of the dissensions of the Incorporated Society.
Concerning these the King inquired of West. The artist--one of the eight
Directors who had voluntarily quitted the Society after the ejection of
their sixteen colleagues--related to the King the history of the
Society's proceedings from the Directors' point of view. Whereupon the
King stated 'that he would gladly patronize any association that might
be found better calculated to improve the arts.'
West returned from the palace full of this royal announcement. He at
once put himself in communication with three ex-Directors of the
Incorporated Society,--Cotes, a fashionable portrait-painter; Chambers,
who had been instructor in architecture to the King when Prince of
Wales; and Moser, the gold-chaser and enameller, who had taught the King
drawing. These four artists formed themselves into a committee to
arrange the plan of an academy. The King, it is stated, took great
personal interest in the scheme, and even drew up several laws with his
own hand. He expressed great anxiety that the design should be kept a
profound secret, lest it should be converted into a vehicle of political
influence. The artists did not object to this secrecy; they rather
preferred that their plan should, as it were, open fire upon their foes
unexpectedly, with the suddenness of a battery promptly unmasked.
We now come to the well-known story of the arrival at Windsor Castle of
Kirby, the President of the Incorporated Society, at a time when the
King is inspecting West's completed picture of, 'Regulus.' Kirby joins
in the general admiration of the work; he turns to West, and trusts that
it is the artist's intention to exhibit the picture. West replies that
the question of exhibition must rest with his Majesty, for whom the
picture has been painted. 'Assuredly,' says the King, 'I shall be happy
to let the work be shown to the public.' 'Then, Mr. West, you will send
it to my exhibition,' adds the President of the Incorporated Society.
'No!' his Majesty interposes, 'it must go to _my_ exhibition--_to the
Royal Academy_!' Mr. Kirby is thunderstruck,--the battery had been
unmasked. Profoundly humiliated he at once retires from the royal
presence, not to survive the shock very long, says the story. However,
he lived to 1774.
Mr. Kirby was a landscape painter of repute in his day. Author of a
work on perspective, and the friend of Gainsborough, he had risen from
quite humble life to a position of some eminence, entirely by his own
exertions. It was admitted that he had attained the post of President of
the Incorporated Society without intrigue on his part, and that both by
reason of his professional skill and his private worth, he was entitled
to the respect alike of the friends and foes of that institution. The
King condescended to play an ignoble part when he took pains to mortify
and distress so honest a gentleman. Rival artists might conspire against
the Society from which they had seceded, and seek to mine its position;
but his Majesty stooped very low when he lent his royal hand to the
firing of the train. However, he had thrown himself heart and soul into
the project for founding a new society--the Royal Academy. So that he
reared that edifice, he seemed to care little how he might sully his
fingers in the process. In this, as in some other occurrences in the
course of his reign, he demonstrated sufficiently that he could on
occasion be obstinate and fatuous, wanting both in discrimination and in
dignity.
After the scene at Windsor Castle, in which poor Mr. Kirby had been
demolished, a meeting was held at the house of Wilton, the sculptor, of
some thirty artists, including, of course, the twenty-four ex-Directors
of the Incorporated Society, to hear Chambers, the architect, read the
proposed academy's code of laws which had been prepared under the
immediate inspection of the King, and to nominate the officers of the
institution. Some uneasiness had been felt during the day as to whether
Reynolds would or not join the academy. He had hitherto abstained from
all part in the proceedings; but that he should be the first president
had been decided by the King in consultation with the other
conspirators. Penny, the portrait-painter, had visited Reynolds to sound
him on the subject, but found him obdurate. West was then deputed to
wait upon the greatest English painter, and to leave no means untried in
the way of persuading him to join the new association. For a time
Reynolds was cold and coy enough, but influenced at last by the
allurement of probable knighthood, or the force of other arguments, he
permitted himself to be carried in West's coach to the meeting at
Wilton's. He was at once declared president; Chambers being appointed
treasurer, Newton secretary, Moser keeper, Penny professor of painting,
and Dr. William Hunter professor of anatomy. Reynolds, however, deferred
his acceptance of the post of president until he had consulted his
friends Dr. Johnson and Mr. Burke upon the subject, and it was not until
a fortnight after his election that he finally consented to fill the
proposed office.
The first formal meeting of the Royal Academy was held in Pall Mall on
the 14th December 1768. Mr. Chambers read a report to the artists
assembled, relating the steps that had been taken to found the Academy.
No allusion was made in this report to the secret negotiations and
consultations with the King; but it was set forth that on the previous
28th November, Messrs. Chambers, Cotes, Moser, and West had had the
honour of presenting a memorial to the Crown, signed by twenty-two
artists, soliciting the royal assistance and protection in establishing
a new society for promoting the arts of design. The objects of the
society were stated to be 'the establishing a well-regulated school or
academy of design, for the use of students in the arts, and an annual
exhibition, open to all artists of distinguished merit, where they may
offer their performances to public inspection, and acquire that degree
of reputation and encouragement which they shall be deemed to deserve.'
'We apprehend,' the memorialists had proceeded, 'that the profits
arising from the last of these institutions will fully answer all the
expenses of the first: we even flatter ourselves they will be more than
necessary for that purpose, and that we shall be enabled annually to
distribute somewhat in useful charities. Your Majesty's avowed patronage
and protection is therefore all that we at present humbly sue for; but
should we be disappointed in our expectations, and find that the profits
of the society are insufficient to defray its expenses, we humbly hope
that your Majesty will not deem that expense ill-applied which may be
found necessary to support so useful an institution.' This memorial, so
the report went on to state, the King had received very graciously:
saying that he considered the culture of the arts as a national concern,
and that the memorialists might depend upon his patronage and assistance
in carrying their plan into execution; further, he desired that a fuller
statement in writing of their intentions might be laid before him.
Accordingly, Mr. Chambers had drawn up a sketch of his plan, and, having
obtained its approval by as many artists as the shortness of time would
allow, had submitted it to the King, who, on the 10th of December 1768,
signified his approbation, ordered that the plan should be carried into
execution, and with his own hand signed Mr. Chambers's plan--'the
Instrument,' as it was then, and has ever since been called. Mr.
Chambers then read the Instrument to the meeting, after which the
artists present signed an obligation or declaration, promising to
observe all the laws and regulations contained in the Instrument, and
all future laws that might be made for the better government of the
society, and to employ their utmost endeavours to promote the honour and
interest of the establishment, so long as they should continue members
thereof. The Academy thus obtained its constitution, and assumed such
form of legal existence as it has ever possessed.
The Instrument is simply a document on parchment, signed by the King,
but unsealed and unattested. It recites that sundry eminent professors
of painting, sculpture, and architecture had solicited the King's
patronage and assistance in establishing a society for promoting the
arts of design, and that the utility of the plan had been fully and
clearly demonstrated. Therefore the King, being desirous of encouraging
every useful undertaking, did thereby institute and establish the said
Society under the name of the 'Royal Academy of Arts in London,'
graciously declaring himself the patron, protector, and supporter
thereof, and commanding it should be established under the forms and
regulations thereinafter set forth, which had been humbly laid before
his Majesty, and had received his royal assent and approbation. The
rules declared that the Academy should consist of forty members only,
who should be called Academicians; they were to be at the time of their
admission painters, sculptors, or architects of reputation in their
professions, of high moral character, not under twenty-five years of
age, resident in Great Britain, and not members of any other society of
artists established in London. Under this rule, it will be noted, that
engravers could not aspire to the honours of the Academy. Sir Robert
Strange regarded this as a direct affront to the members of his
profession, and attributed it to his well-known attachment to the
Incorporated Society and hostility to the designs of the ex-Directors of
that body. The provision that members of other societies were to be
disqualified from becoming members of the Academy, was of course aimed
at the rival institutions, and undoubtedly a severe restriction upon
the general body of artists. Of the forty members who were to constitute
the Academy, the Instrument named thirty-six only; a circumstance which
justified suspicion that the leaders in the enterprise had so small a
following that they could not muster in sufficient force to complete the
prescribed number of original members: or they may have purposely left
vacancies to be supplied as artists of eminence were detached from the
rival societies or otherwise became eligible. Among the thirty-six,[9]
while many artists of fame appear, it must also be said that many very
obscure persons figure, whose names, but for their registry upon the
list of original Academicians, would probably never have been known to
posterity in any way. Nearly a third of the number are foreigners. There
are two ladies, Mesdames Angelica Kauffman and Mary Moser, the first and
last female Academicians. Then there are coach, and even sign-painters,
a medallist, and an engraver--Bartolozzi, whose nomination was in direct
contravention of the Academy's constitution and an additional injustice
to Sir Robert Strange. The originators of the plan must surely have felt
that they were marching through Coventry with rather a ragged regiment
at their heels. The number of reputable names missing from their list
was remarkable: Allan Ramsay, serjeant-painter to the King; Hudson,
Reynolds's preceptor, and Romney, his rival; Scott, the marine painter;
Pine, the portrait painter; and the engravers Strange, Grignon, and
Woollett; beside such artists as Edward Edwards, Joseph Farington, Ozias
Humphrey, John Mortimer, Robert Smirke, Francis Wheatleigh, and many
others (members of the Incorporated Society for the most part), who,
though ultimately connected with the Academy, had no share in its
foundation.
[9] The thirty-six members nominated by the Instrument were:--Joshua
Reynolds, Benjamin West, Thomas Sandby (architect), Francis Cotes
(portrait painter), John Baker (coach panel painter), Mason Chamberlin
(portrait painter), John Gwyn (architect), Thomas Gainsborough, J.
Baptist Cipriani (Italian), Jeremiah Meyer (German, miniature painter),
Francis Milner Newton (portrait painter), Paul Sandby (water-colour
painter and engraver), Francesco Bartolozzi (Italian, engraver), Charles
Catton (coach panel painter), Nathaniel Hone (portrait painter), William
Tyre (architect), Nathaniel Dance (portrait painter), Richard Wilson, G.
Michael Moser (Swiss, gold-chaser and enameller), Samuel Wale (sign
painter and book illustrator), Peter Toms (portrait and heraldic
painter), Angelica Kauffman (Swiss), Richard Yeo (sculptor of
medallions, engraver to the Mint), Mary Moser (Swiss, flower painter),
William Chambers (architect), Joseph Wilton (sculptor), George Barrett
(landscape painter), Edward Penny (portrait painter chiefly), Agostino
Carlini (Italian, sculptor), Francis Hayman, Dominic Serres (French,
landscape painter), John Richards (landscape painter), Francesco
Zucarelli (Italian, landscape painter), George Dance (architect),
William Hoare (historical and portrait painter, father of Prince Hoare),
and Johan Zoffany (German, historical and portrait painter). The number
of forty was not completed until 1772, when were added Edward Burch (gem
sculptor and wax modeller), Richard Cosway (miniature painter), Joseph
Nollekens (sculptor), and James Barry (historical painter). Seven of the
original thirty-six Academicians do not appear on the roll of the
Incorporated Society in 1766, viz., Baker, Cipriani, Toms, A. Kauffman,
M. Moser, Penny, and Hoare.
Having named the original members, the Instrument proceeded to lay down
rules for the further government of the institution; to prescribe the
manner of electing future members, a council, and president, a secretary
and keeper (the treasurer was to be nominated by his Majesty, 'as the
King is graciously pleased to pay all deficiencies'), the appointment of
different professors, the establishment of schools, a library for the
free use of students, and of an annual exhibition of works of art to be
'open to all artists of distinguished merit.' New laws and regulations
were to be framed from time to time, but to have no force until
'ratified by the consent of the general assembly and the approbation of
the King.' At the end of the Instrument the King wrote, 'I approve of
this plan; let it be put in execution'--adding his signature.
This Instrument, with the bye-laws and regulations made upon its
authority, cannot be said to possess the characteristics or incidents of
a charter, still less of an Act of Parliament, or indeed, to present any
very formal or legal basis upon which to found a national society. The
Commissioners of 1863, while they recommended the grant of a charter to
define satisfactorily the position of the Academy, considered the
Instrument as a solemn declaration by the original members of the main
objects of their society, to which succeeding members had also
practically become parties, and were of opinion that its legal effects
would be so regarded in a court of law or equity. It did not appear,
however, that the Academy itself was in favour of the objects of its
institution being more clearly defined by means of a charter. In 1836,
Haydon boldly accused the Academicians that they 'cunningly refused
George IV.'s offer of a charter, fearing it would make them responsible
"to Parliament and the nation."' The charge would seem to have some
truth in it. Certainly the Academy has made no attempt to obtain a
precise definition of its position in regard to the crown and the
public.
The Incorporated Society viewed with natural alarm the rise of a rival
institution, favoured in so marked a manner by the patronage of the
crown. Sir Robert Strange at once proposed the presentation of a
petition, setting forth in plain terms the grievances that would be
entailed upon the Society, and upon artists generally, by the illiberal
constitution of the Academy and its apprehended monopoly of the royal
protection. Sir Robert's proposition was, however, not accepted. A
petition of a more cautious nature, from which everything likely to
offend had been carefully eliminated, was presented to the King by Mr.
Kirby, the president. His Majesty replied to the prayer of the petition,
'that the Society already possessed his Majesty's protection; that he
did not mean to encourage one set of men more than another; that, having
extended his favour to the Society incorporated by charter, he had also
encouraged the new petitioners; that his intention was to patronize the
arts; that the Society might rest assured his royal favour should be
equally extended to both, and that he should visit the exhibitions as
usual.' This reply was gracious enough: but it was not ingenuous. The
King was not as good as his word. He _did_ mean 'to encourage one set of
men more than another.' He visited the exhibition of the Incorporated
Society in 1769 _for the last time_. In the same year he presented the
funds of the Society with £100, _his last donation_. Meanwhile his
visits to the Royal Academy were constant, his preference for that
institution clearly manifested; between 1769 and 1780 he presented to
its funds from his privy purse upwards of £5000.
The Incorporated Society, shut out from studying in the Royal Academy,
determined to open an art-school for themselves and their pupils.
Application was made to the Academy for a return of the properties which
Mr. Moser had carried away it was now alleged, under false pretences,
from the St. Martin's Lane Academy. It was intimated that payment should
be made for the chattels in question, or that they should be restored.
The Royal Academy, however, took no steps in the matter. Tired of
waiting, the Incorporated Society at last fitted up at great expense a
new studio for themselves at premises in Maiden Lane, Covent Garden,
occupied in more modern times by the Cyder Cellars.
Early in 1769 the Academy opened its art-schools in Pall Mall; Reynolds
presiding, read his first discourse. One grave defect in the Academy's
constitution was then in a measure remedied. The art of engraving was
recognised: a law was passed, by which not more than six engravers could
be admitted as 'associates of the Royal Academy.' In April the first
exhibition was held. The number of works exhibited was 136. Among these
were four portraits by Reynolds, seven by Cotes (some of them in
crayons, in which he was supposed to excel), and three by Gainsborough.
West sent two pictures--the 'Regulus,' of which mention has already been
made--the firebrand work which brought about indirectly so much mischief
and discussion--and a 'Venus lamenting the Death of Adonis.' There were
also landscapes by Barrett, Gainsborough, Sandby, Serres, Wilson, and
Zucarelli, and 'poetical and historical works by Cipriani, Bartolozzi,
and Miss Kauffman. The exhibitors were fifty in number; Mr. Pye, in his
'Patronage of British Art,' divides them into, 'Members of the Royal
Academy, 33; non-members, _having no interest in the revenue_, 17.' A
glance at recent catalogues will demonstrate the changed proportion now
existing between exhibiting members and exhibiting non-members, as
compared with the first exhibition of the Royal Academy.[10] By this
exhibition a clear profit of nearly £600 was realized. A sum of about
£150 was expended in charity; the surplus was applied towards the
general expenses of the Academy. These, however, so far exceeded the
receipts as to necessitate a grant from the privy purse to the amount of
£900. The King and Queen visited the Academy exhibition in May,
accompanied by a guard of honour. From this incident arose the practice,
still existing, of stationing sentries at the doors of the Academy
during the exhibition.
[10] 'In the year 1862 there were 1142 works exhibited; of
these 146 were the works of academicians, leaving 996 for the
non-academicians.'--_Sir Charles Eastlake's Examination before the Royal
Academy Commission_, 1863.
In addition to a charge of sixpence for the catalogue, visitors were
required to pay one shilling for admission to the exhibition. In
explanation of this charge, the following curious advertisement preceded
the list of pictures: 'As the present exhibition is a part of the
institution of an academy _supported by royal munificence_, the public
may naturally expect the liberty of being admitted without any expense.
The Academicians, therefore, think it necessary to declare that this was
very much their desire, but they have not been able to suggest any other
means than that of receiving money for admittance to prevent the rooms
being filled by improper persons, to the entire exclusion of those for
whom the exhibition is apparently intended.'
This advertisement, which was repeated in the Academy catalogue of 1780,
would seem at the first sight to suggest that the Academicians had
failed to comprehend their exact position. Or had the King in his
enthusiasm for their cause led them to believe that he intended to
defray their expenses wholly from the privy purse without aid from the
public? However this may be, it has long been understood that the
amounts taken at the doors of the exhibition for admission, and the
sales of catalogues, form the real support of the Academy. A gross
income of at least £10,000 is thus produced, half of which amount, as
clear profit, the Academy is enabled every year to add to its ever
increasing store of wealth.[11]
[11] Out of its accumulated riches the Academy has defrayed, the cost of
its new Galleries in Burlington Gardens, first opened in 1869.
Concerning the destinies of the rival institutions but brief mention
must suffice. Their downfall dates from the rise of the Royal Academy.
Still, they died lingering deaths. The Incorporated Society struggled
gallantly though vainly against the superior advantages and the royal
preference enjoyed by the Academy. In 1772, the Society built the large
room, the Lyceum, in the Strand, at an outlay of £7500. But in a year or
two the decrease in its revenues compelled it to part with the building
at a sacrifice. In 1776, the Society held no exhibition. In 1777 and
1778 it exhibited at a room in Piccadilly, near Air Street. In 1779, it
again did not exhibit. In 1780, it appeared once more at its old
quarters in Spring Gardens. But its existence now was of a very
intermittent kind. In 1781 and 1782 it made no sign. In 1783, and again
in 1790, it held exhibitions at the Lyceum. In 1791, it made its
farewell appearance in public at the rooms in Spring Gardens. In 1836,
Mr. Robert Pollard, the last surviving member of the Society, being then
81, handed over its books, papers, letters, documents, and charter, to
the Royal Academy. This was the formal surrender of the Incorporated
Society; but in truth the struggle had been decided against it long and
long before.
The Free Society dragged on its existence, making feeble annual
exhibitions until 1779 inclusive; but at that time it had long outlived
public notice. In 1769, it had built a room next to Cumberland House,
Pall Mall. But this, ill-fortune probably compelled it to surrender, as
in 1775 its exhibition was held in St. Alban's Street. The provident,
praiseworthy, modest aims of the Free Society ought to have saved it
from ruin--ought to have excited public sympathy on its behalf. But this
was not to be. The Royal Academy was left master of the field. In the
success of the King's exhibition, the older institutions were forgotten
and lost.