His hairstyle, long at the back and sort at the sides and fringe, was fashionable in England during the late 1770s, early 1780s.[1]

At first glance, one is reminded of portraits by Tilly Kettle, but ours cannot be attributed to him in part, or full. The present painting is similar in style and composition to Kettle’s portrait of George Legge, 3rd Earl of Dartmouth (1755 – 1810) (Fig. 1): the face, with its pointed chin, clearly delineated lips and tufts of hair falling over the forehead, the hand tucked into the coat and white linen at the collar and sleeves, and, of course, the presentation in a feigned oval. Kettle was an important figure in the history of eighteenth-century British art and worked at the same time as artists including Thomas Gainsborough and Joshua Reynolds. Ellis Waterhouse notes that Kettle’s style was derivative (of Reynolds, Cotes and Romney) but that he ‘ranks fairly high among the lesser portraitists of his time’. Another British artist whose works bears some relation to our portrait is Thomas Hudson (1701 – 1779). Along with many others, Joshua Reynolds and Joseph Wright of Derby were pupils of Hudson.

In addition to artists working in England, our portrait also shares stylistic qualities with artists, such as Thomas McIlworth (active 1757 – 1768), working in America. His portrait of Stephen van Rensselaer II (1742 – 1769) (Fig. 2) presents the sitter in a striking indigo blue suit accented with silver thread on the buttons and buttonholes. The hairstyle formal jacket, albeit like our portrait without the frills, is understated. The costume recalls the great portrait of Sir Brooke Boothby painted by Joseph Wright of Derby in 1781 (Fig. 3). Although our portrait is a more formal type, and the style of the artists largely differs, the shape of the two sitter’s suits – specifically their collars and ruffled linen undershirts – make the comparison a useful tool to date our painting.

Given we do not know the name of the artist, nor the sitter, the costume of this young man is revealing as to the date of the work. Gone is the collarless straight jacket of the 1750s and 60s, and the interest in full-skirted coats from the 40s. This coat is a fine example of the elongated style of men’s outwear in the 1780s. The fronts curve back sharply, which is visible here as the material is pulled taut around the ribcage of the sitter. Furthermore, and in addition to the large folded, pointed blue silk collar, there are revers at the front of the jacket – which were a new development in cut that dominated men’s coats for several decades. In vogue during the late eighteenth-century – in both military and civilian dress - were long narrow sleeves with round cuffs that accentuated the slender line of the arm – a la marinière. These slim cuts feel modest by comparison to the wide and deep cuffs of the 1740s, but nonetheless just as smart. Both coat and waistcoat were probably made from a fine wool/silk material. The black is rather unusual as boys were not normally presented in this the colour. It was reserved for adults in mourning, and it seems particularly unlikely our portrait presents the sitter in such a state.

The white linen shirt worn under the tight-fitting coat is accented with a plain muslin ruffled collar and cuffs. The sitter has his right hand inserted between the buttons of his waistcoat, a gesture intended to highlight a finely painted hand and lace cuff. Both the cuff and the collar in our portrait are, however, linen and not lace – thus a simpler design. Looking at costume across the Atlantic, Paul Hamlyn notes that “Styles in the United States were considerably simpler than in Europe”.[2] That said, the one rather unusual element of the costume are what look to be steel-cut buttons. It is unlikely this portrait depicts a young man in uniform as the buttons are usually modest. The faceted steel buttons here are instead fashionably large and quite flashy.

[1] Dr Aileen Ribeiro notes that she has also seen versions of this hairstyle in American portraits.

[2] P. Hamlyn, Fashion: From Ancient Egypt to the Present Day, p. 206.