Poised with a confidence commensurate with a position of senior leadership, the subject of our portrait would fit the appearance of a typical gentleman from the Caroline era were it not for his military-specific ensemble. Frustratingly, as there was no standardised uniform for either side during the civil war, it is difficult to categorically determine whether our sitter was a royalist or a parliamentarian – despite his rather cavalier facial features.

In the absence of any inscriptions, upon the painting or its frame, or traditionally ascribed identifications, we must speculate on our sitter’s identity based on physical attributes alone. What we can safely assume is that he was a wealthy officer based on the quality of his garments and accessories: he wears an unusually elaborate buff coat, which is capped with a scallop-edged, blackened and gilded gorget. The silver laces tied at his shoulders suggests that the sleeves might be detachable, whilst other silver elements decoratively contrast with the yellow coat and his turned back cuffs, which indicate that his sleeves were lined with red cloth. A silver embroidered baldric, which supports a sword hung by his left hip, completes his outfit.[1]

It is what is unusual about his chosen garments that might assist us in identifying him, especially the silver embroidered panels on his buff coat. A letter between Sir Robert Harley (1626 – 1673) and his brother, Edward (1624 – 1700), comments that silver lacing was noticed on the coats worn by those from the London Trained Bands militia force.[2] Before the Civil War, England did not have a standing army, but instead localities around the country had bands of trained men, who could mobilise in times where defence was required. Although informally trained and mobilised only when completely necessary, these trained bands had able-bodied men at the ready.

In London, there had been four regiments of part-time soldiers since the reign of Elizabeth I, but when Parliament declared war against Charles I in 1642, the London Trained Bands, as they were known, were reorganised and expanded, with each of the six new regiments being assigned colours. These newly grouped bands were commanded by colonels, who were initially appointed by the Lord Mayor of London and then a Common Council during the pro-Parliament years. In March 1642, a ‘Militia Ordinance’ bill was proposed in the House of Commons: “to make Colonels and Captains, and other Officers…for the Suppression of all Rebellions, Insurrections, and Invasions that may happen”.[3] These leaders were often of the professional and gentrified classes, with close ties to the specific wards that were eventually assigned into each regiment.

One of the most noteworthy colonels of the London Trained Bands in the early years of the Civil War, whose biographical profile and known appearance fits our portrait’s subject, was Sir James Harington, 3rd Bt. (1607 – 1680). There is an oil portrait of Sir James, possibly painted by John Hayls (1600 – 1679) and paired with a portrait of his wife, which is now only known from a reproduction in Ian Grimble’s book about the Harington family [Fig. 1].[4] The resemblance between the man in our portrait and the one illustrated in the 1957 publication is remarkable: both men wear their dark hair long and wavy, with wispy moustaches and a small patched beard; their slightly oval faces both feature a distinctive long, narrow nose with their eyes noticeably far apart; and both men share a short forehead and dimpled chin. It is plausible that Sir James commissioned his own portrait from Edward Bower, who was known to work for London-based Parliamentarians at this time, to commemorate his promotion as a major-general of the London Trained Bands in 1643.

Despite being born into a noble family with links to Rutland, Sir James Harington was raised at his maternal family’s seat in Oxfordshire, Merton Manor. He was an earnest and dutiful man who married well in 1632 to Catherine Wright, the daughter of Sir Edmund Wright (1573 – 1643), who became Lord Mayor of London in 1640. It might have been his father-in-law who helped Harington get his commission as colonel of the Westminster Liberty Regiment, which later became known as the Red Regiment.[5]

After several serious breaches of public and governmental trust by the king, including when he tried to take back control of parliament in January 1642 by trying to arrest five of its leading members, Sir James helped lead a delegation of high-ranking citizens of Rutland to petition the king to peacefully return to parliament in March 1642. When that failed, and the country took up arms, the Harington family were the only titled family in Rutland to support the Parliament, which quickly took control of the county after taking possession of its armoury in Oakham Castle.[6]

Sir James was promoted to Major-General and commanded the Red, Green, and Yellow regiments of the London Trained Bands in Sir William Waller’s Parliamentarian army during several notable battles between 1643 and 1644, including the Siege of Basing House; the Battle of Alton; the Battle of Cropredy Bridge; and, ultimately, the Second Battle of Newbury. A familiar experience for those commanding trained bands was their charges’ ill-discipline and home sickness, which caused several strategical failures early on. It was quickly decided that a new professional army was required, which resulted in the creation of the New Model Army, a decision that undoubtedly secured victory for the Parliamentarians. Following the king’s arrest in 1647, Sir James Harington was entrusted with guarding him whilst he was imprisoned at Holdenby House in Northamptonshire.

Whilst Sir James was politically a radical, and a staunch puritan, he did not support the king’s execution. Whilst he was listed as a commissioner for the king’s trial, he did not sign the death warrant nor attend the execution. Despite his wavering towards the end of the king’s life, Oliver Cromwell appointed Sir James to his Council of State, eventually serving as its president. He was also MP for Rutland during the Rump Parliament and then MP for Middlesex during the short-lived Barebones Parliament that followed. Upon Lord Protector Cromwell’s death in late 1658, Harington was nominated to a Committee of Safety that would consider succession options and maintain order in the republic. However, momentum had already gathered in Scotland for supporting the restoration of the Stuart monarchy, which culminated in the Prince of Wales’s return to London in May 1660 to be crowned Charles II.[7]

As Harington was associated with the regicide, although a reluctant participant, the crown speedily removed his titles and privileges in 1661, forcing Sir James to seek refuge in Antwerp, where he eventually died in 1680. Lady Catherine Harington was able to remain in their country house, Swakeleys House near Uxbridge, which she had inherited from her father, and tried to petition for a pardon for her husband that never materialised.

Although little is known about the early years of Edward Bower (fl. 1636 – 1667), he was certainly at his most productive in London during the Civil War period. Whilst his earliest known work is a portrait of a now unknown woman, which is dated 1636, he must have been active earlier as he appears in the minutes of London’s Painter–Stainers' Company on 27 March 1629, when he was 'informed against.'

Although early patronage suggests that he was perhaps originally from the southwest of England, it is thought that Bower trained under Sir Anthony van Dyck (1599 – 1641) in London as Ferdinando Fairfax, 2nd Baron Fairfax of Cameron, whose portrait was painted by Bower in 1646, wrote that the artist had been ‘servant to Vandike’.[8] Despite having been associated with such an illustrious master, Bower seemed to have been lacking in some discipline; on 1st July 1644, possibly around the time our portrait was painted, he was again in trouble with the Painter–Stainers' Company for the non-payment of fines. This spiralled into a more serious offence when on 24th April 1646 he was ordered before the Lord Mayor of London for ‘contempt in not obeying the Ordinances and Orders of this Company.’ [9]

His signature sometimes included ‘at Temple Bar’, where he seems to have worked his whole career. Interestingly, and perhaps a crucial connection between our artist and his subject, the men for Sir James Harington’s original trained band were apparently recruited exclusively from Temple Bar, which might have proved a convenient occasion for their meeting.

Bower’s limited corpus has historically associated him with the Parliamentarians as many of his subjects were primarily of that sensibility during the war. Despite this, he must have been fairly apolitical as his best-known portrait is that of Charles I awaiting his trial in 1649, which shows a once seemingly untouchable monarch now recognising the gravity of his tyranny and presenting a form of modesty – in his black dress and greying beard – that had never been associated with him before [Fig. 2]. This important likeness of the soon-to-be executed monarch, of which the artist made two more replicas, though relatively unsophisticated when compared to the more glorifying portraits of the king by van Dyck, have an air of pathos and dignity that is otherwise lacking in other contemporary portraits of Charles I.[10]

Despite his earlier conflicts with the Painter–Stainers' Company, Bower became its Upper Warden in 1656 and Master in 1661. He was among those appointed to ride in attendance on Charles II when he arrived in London in 1660. The day he died is, like his date of birth, unknown but it is thought that he died in London sometime around the new year in 1667.[11]

[1] We are very grateful to Dr. Andrew Cormack, Prof. Peter Gaunt, and Dr. Ismini Pells for sharing their thoughts about our sitter’s garments and appearance.

[2] We are grateful to Dr. Ismini Pells for sharing this information with us. See: Historic Manuscripts Commission, The manuscripts of His Grace the Duke of Portland: preserved at Welbeck Abbey (10 vols, London: 1891-1931), III, p. 108.

[3] See: https://www.thehistoryoflondon.co.uk/london-during-the-civil-war/

[4] A later engraving by William Faithorne derives from this composition (NPG D16440).

[5] This might explain the prominent flashes of red featured within our sitter’s garments and accessories.

[6] S. Howlett, “The Haringtons of Ridlington: Servants to the State” from Days of Shaking Rutland families in times of conflict, 1600-1660, online 2010, p. 26.

[7] Ibid, pp. 26 – 32.

[8] E. Waterhouse, The Dicitonary of 16th & 17th Century British Painters, Woodbridge 1988, p. 33.

[9] A. Burnette, Bower [Bowers], Edward (d. 1666/7), Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Online 2004. Also see: MS 5667/1, fols. 187, 207, Guildhall Library.

[10] See: E. K. Waterhouse, “Edward Bower, Painter of King Charles I at His Trial” from The Burlington Magazine, Vol. 91, No. 550 (January 1949), p. 21.

[11] O. Millar, Bower [Bower], Edward, Grove Art Online, 2003.