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As I’m not observant, I hadn’t realised at the time that this painting at Ickworth House was by William Hogarth (1697-1764) who must rank as one of the most influential British artists. The work was commissioned by John, Lord Hervey, and also has the title of ‘The Holland House Group’ which seems to me to be a more grown-up sounding name than ‘the Hervey Conversation Piece’. This secondary title points towards the significant presence of Henry and Stephen Fox, whose family later held the title Baron Holland and resided at Holland House. I had to look it up, but the ‘conversation piece’ style of artwork was a thing in the eighteenth century, a way of the middle classes to show off their status.

It was painted between 1738 and 1740, with this being time for another table…

I love a political artwork (I don’t get out much) as they’re statements of intent and political alliances rather than anything else. Hervey had reached the giddy heights of Vice-Chamberlain to Royal Household which was a rather more powerful role than it is today. I note that because I would bet that the majority of people don’t know that Samantha Dixon currently holds the role, although I sometimes fear that the majority of people don’t know who the Home Secretary is.

There is some background information here, which is that John Hervey and Stephen Fox were in a relationship, although initially John has pursued Henry Fox until he rejected the advances and he went for his older brother instead. For extra excitement, Winnington had an affair, likely more than one, and managed to get himself involved in a duel.

The artwork has never left the property and was owned by the Hervey family until 1956 when it was accepted by HM Treasury in lieu of death duties and then given to the National Trust. There’s also a copy of the artwork at Redlynch Park in Wiltshire, which was the country seat of the Fox family.

This painting at Ickworth House shows the meeting of the Hon. Mrs Constantine Phipps being led to greet her brother, Captain the Hon Augustus Hervey, later 3rd Earl of Bristol. The artwork was commissioned in 1750 by the matriarch Mary, Lady Hervey, but it was a rather more complex affair than she might have first intended. The six individuals posed, or whatever it is people do when sitting for a painting, in Paris in October 1750 and much of the whole thing was a show of her social status. Anyway, there’s more about Mary at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Hervey and more about Augustus at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Augustus_Hervey,_3rd_Earl_of_Bristol.

The artist was Hubert-François Bourguignon (1699-1773), known as Gravelot, who was something of an active participant in London’s burgeoning art scene, frequenting Slaughter’s Coffee House and teaching at the St. Martin’s Lane Academy, an important precursor to the Royal Academy, alongside figures like William Hogarth and Francis Hayman. His pupils included the young Thomas Gainsborough, who reportedly even painted backgrounds for Gravelot in the mid-1740s. In the Ickworth painting, commissioned five years after his return to Paris, Gravelot appears to have been the primary architect and instigator of the whole arrangement. He is credited with painting the bodies of the figures and, significantly, the heads of Mary, Lady Hervey, and the Fitzgerald couple.

But then we move onto Jean-Étienne Liotard (1702–1789), a portrait painter born in Geneva to French Huguenot parents. For the Ickworth commission, Liotard was specifically engaged to paint the heads of the Honourable Mrs Constantine Phipps and her husband. But then it seems that Lady Hervey became a bit impatient with the speed of everything and she commissioned Francis Hayman (1708-1776) to finish everything off, although his exact contribution is unclear so there are some figures that have likely been painted by three different people.

Which gives us (as everyone loves a handy table):

What a faff. This painting was one of the relatively few at Ickworth House that just stayed at the property, perhaps because no-one else would want it, rather than being one that the National Trust had to work out how to reacquire later on. The whole thing feels like the eighteenth century equivalent of a modern-day photo of a family on a first class flight somewhere cultural, showing happy families, a slight air of superiority and a hint of cultural aspirations. Well, something rather more than a hint. The painting is all very country house aristocracy, although to be fair, that’s exactly what it is and I’m rather pleased (as much as anyone can be in the circumstances) that the painting has continued to be kept at the house.

I am that dull that I not only have a favourite encyclopaedia, I have a favourite edition….. So, I’m always surprised and delighted to see them in the wild so to speak. Although the National Trust has split this collection at Ickworth House between two rooms which I managed not to be too traumatised about, although I had a strong urge for Liam to put them all together in one place. I don’t have a physical copy of the book at the moment, but there is a free version on-line and here’s just one random section from the complete set of books that Project Gutenburg has transcribed. I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned, but I had some e-mail conversations with Michael Hart, the founder of Project Gutenberg, in what must have been around 1995. Unfortunately, my e-mail archive doesn’t go back that far to read what riveting things I asked him about….. Anyway, I appear to have digressed once again.

The library at Ickworth House, the largest of the property’s grand rooms and it is located adjoining the dining room. The name feels slightly misleading, as there are books all over the house and this room doesn’t have that many of them. It’s located at the heart of the Rotunda and is a large and expansive space that was also used as a ballroom. The fireplace was brought from Italy and installed by John Field, all part of the Grand Tour influence.

A lot of the books were rebound by Theodora, Lady Bristol, which has rather hidden their true beauty. I don’t like this uniformity, it’s a shame that the original bindings were lost. That’s what happens when books are seen as aesthetic things rather than beautiful in their own damaged right.

These great pillars are giant scagliola columns which cost £332 back when the room was laid out in the 1820s. It’s fair to say, that was a lot of money, somewhere around £35,000 in today’s money. At the same time, the bookshelves were installed, designed by the royal furniture makers Banting, France & Co who also supplied some of the other furniture in the room.

Anyway, onto one of my judgemental comments…. This room was significant in 2015 when the National Trust, under the leadership of Helen Ghosh, made a decision that they wanted people to linger in the room longer and to do that they would take the furniture out and put in bean bags. The mind process is just ridiculous, it’s easy to get people to linger in a room but it’s just as illogical to turn it into a waiting room as it is to fill it with clutter and force visitors to spend longer there as they can’t get around. At the time, the former head curator at the National Trust called the whole thing “misguided” and he seems right to me. After much hilarity from some observers, the National Trust scrapped the new vision after realising it was a bloody stupid one.

A lot of the blame appears to have been dumped by the National Trust onto Sue Borges, and there’s a photo of the bean bag project at Art History News. Borges claimed none of the 9,500 visitors who had gone through that weekend had criticised the arrangement, but the room guides apparently had a different take according to that article and it’s odd that out of such a large audience no-one had a differing view. Normally the Daily Telegraph have an entirely different view on the National Trust to me, as I’ve apparently gone a bit woke, but I’m pleased that wiser heads prevailed. Right, that’s that complaint out of the way and I very much like that they’re taken the historic items they bought back out of storage and restored them to the room.