The Architect King: George III and the Culture of Enlightenment

Apollo, March, 2005 by Giles Worsley

The Architect King: George III and the Culture of Enlightenment David Watkin Royal Collection Publications 30 [pounds sterling] ISBN 1 902 163 50 8

John, 3rd Earl of Bute: Patron and Collector Francis Russell Printed at the Merrion Press 95 [pounds sterling] ISBN 0 951 259 51 2

Giles Worsley discusses new studies of George III and his cultural eminence grise, the 3rd Earl of Blue.

2004 was a good year for George In and his cultural circle. First there was the outstanding exhibition at the Queen's Gallery, 'George III and Queen Charlotte: Patronage, collecting and court taste'; then David Watkin's The Architect King: George III and the Culture of Enlightenment; and finally Francis Russell's long awaited study, John, 3rd Earl of Bute: Patron and Collector. This most civilised and misunderstood of British monarchs has at last received proper cultural recognition, together with the man who did more to mould him than anyone else, Lord Bute.

Russell's handsome book, beautifully produced with elegant type and generous margins on fine, cream paper, is a fitting tribute to a great bibliophile. Initially intended as the late Marquess of Bute's contribution to the Roxburghe Club, publication was imminent on his death in 1993 and indeed the book has been in proof since 1994. But Lord Bute's death plunged the book into limbo, from which it was rescued only when the author took the bold decision to publish it himself, supported by Christie's and other backers. David Watkin has had a rather easier ride. His somewhat more compact work, liberally illustrated with colour, was published by the Royal Collection and forms a happy pendant to Russell.

Few monarchs have taken the throne with higher moral ambitions than George III, those ambitions encouraged and developed by his mentor, former tutor and effective first Prime Minister, Lord Bute. Bute was the model of the classically educated statesman, personally austere, raised on the ideal of the Noble Roman, thinking only of King and country, above party politics. It was he who inserted into the King's speech at his first opening of Parliament: 'Born and educated in this country, I glory in the name of Britain.'

A man blessed by high intelligence, excellent taste, a happy marriage to a wealthy wife, in the fortuitous position to mould the actions of the young, impressionable monarch of an increasingly dynamic nation, Lord Bute's influence on Britain could have been profound. It was his clear intention in particular to encourage the arts and sciences in every practical way. But instead Russell's book is a tragedy of dashed high hopes and ideals. As the author points out, there was no place in British public life for a premier who placed principle above party. Political chicanery and crude anti-Scottish xenophobia soon drove Bute from office and for a time into exile. But if his life is to be read as a tragedy, it is one in which his unbending character played a not insignificant part: as Nathaniel Wraxall said, Bute was 'not formed for an extensive commerce with mankind'.

It was a chance encounter with Frederick, Prince of Wales at Epsom races, coupled with the fortunate marriage to Mary, only daughter of Edward Wortley Montagu, that transformed Bute from an obscure, cash-strapped Scottish aristocrat into a potentially major figure on the British scene. He soon became a key figure in the prince's circle and then, after his untimely death, confidante to his widow. It was this that led to Bute's dominant influence over the young George, Prince of Wales and in time to high political office. Bute's relationship with Augusta, Princess of Wales was a matter of salacious interest to the contemporary press but was entirely honourable in Russell's view. It had one lasting result in the creation of what became the Royal Botanic Gardens on the Princess of Wales's estate at Kew, into which Bute poured his considerable horticultural energies.

In the young Prince of Wales Bute developed a passion for architecture, horsemanship, books, art collecting, clocks and turning. Passions trailed in Bute by Russell turn up repeatedly in Watkin's study of George In. The remarkable King's Library, which filled so many rooms at Buckingham House and was eventually given to the British Museum, was simply a better funded version of Bute's own library. The King's interest in clocks and weathervanes, which combined high science with art, grew out of Bute's interest. Thanks to Bute, William Chambers was appointed the prince's architectural tutor (his medley of exotic buildings at Kew serving as physical exemplars to his young charge), with the prince turning into a creditable amateur architect. Bute encouraged the prince to collect, sending Richard Dalton on a trip to Italy in search of drawings for the two of them. Under Bute's influence, the Royal Collection developed swiftly, although in later years, without the spur of Bute, the King's collecting fell away, as he realised his palaces were full.

Bute would probably have been quite happy abandoning high office and retaining a personal and cultural influence over the King, but in the febrile atmosphere of British politics that smacked too much of the favourite. Other politicians, fearful of Bute's potential backdoors influence, drove the two men apart. In the end the break was bitter, with George III eventually fed up with the 'huffy manner of Lord Bute's'. Forced to forswear public life, Bute abandoned the great town house he had commissioned from Robert Adam on Berkeley Square. Perhaps he should have noted its proximity to the site of Clarendon House, the ambitious town house of the Earl of Clarendon, the one chief minister whose commitment to artistic and intellectual values matched his own. Clarendon, like Bute, was hounded from office and into exile. A pronounced commitment to culture and intellect has never played well with the British political classes.