eorge Willison was born in Edinburgh, where his father
was a printer and publisher, and his grandfather a clergyman.
Thanks to the interest of a wealthy uncle, George Dempster,
Willison followed his training at the Edinburgh Society
for the Encouragement of Arts and Sciences with a period
in Rome, where he studied under Anton Raphael Mengs. Returning
to London, Willison exhibited at the Society of Artists
and the Royal Academy, but these were unexceptional works,
and in 1772, he applied to the Company for permission to
try his fortune in India. Almost certainly, this decision
was related to the fact that Dempster had been elected a
Director of the Company that same year. Tilly Kettle's portrait
of Mohammed Ali and sons, exhibited at the Academy in 1771
may have suggested to Dempster that the Nawab might welcome
another European artist at his court.
Willison arrived in India in 1774, at the age of 33, and
Mohammed Ali, anxious to maintain credibility with the British,
on whose protection he depended, promptly commissioned two
full-length portraits. Moreover, these were to be presented
to the East India Company and to King George III himself.
Six commissions were received between 1774 and 1775, a further
two between 1776-77, and others which seem not to have survived.
Willison was paid handsomely for his portraits, despite
the fact that he charged the Nawab double his normal prices
(75 pagodas (=£30) for a bust-length portrait, and 300 pagodas
(=£120) for a full length. He also painted a portrait of
the unfortunate Governor of Madras, Lord Pigot, and a version
of 'The Last Supper' based on Raphael's masterpiece, for
St. Mary's Church in the Fort. It is said that a substantial
sum of money, about 3,500 pagodas (=£1,400) was still owed
to him when he left Madras for England in June, 1780, but
another artist and contemporary, Ozias Humphrey, noted that
Willison had actually already received £17-20,000 from Mohammed
Ali before his departure. The English artist, Paul Sandby,
writing on 3rd February 1783, commented, 'Willison has brought
from thence £15,000…he will now sit by the fire at Auld
Reekie (i.e. Edinburgh) snugly by the ingleside……fortune
is seldom raised in the north, south or west. The east,
is appears, is the golden point and compass to wealth.'
The subject of Willison's portrait, Mohammed Ali, reinforces
that popular conception, with the added European conventions
of draped curtain, the strong but elegant column, and the
terrace landscape, with palm trees to evoke the East. Tilly
Kettle, Willison and the miniaturist John Smart were all
employed to paint the Nawab's portraits. He could be courteous,
immensely hospitable, always emulating English customs and
manners, such as taking breakfast and tea, and sitting on
chairs rather than cushions. Sir John Macpherson, writing
to Lord Macartney in November 1781 declared, 'I love the
old man ….mind me to my old Nabob. I have been sending him
sheep and bags of rice by every ship. It is more than he
did for me when I was fighting his battles.' The Nawab was
an ally of the Company, but still harboured great ambitions
of power in the S.Indian arena, where Haidar Ally, the Marathas
and the Nizam of Hyderabad were constant rivals. The Nawab
could also be unpredictable and devious, and his breech
of promise in failing to surrender Trichinopoly to Haidar
in 1751 was at the root of so many confrontations between
Haidar and the British. When Haidar swept into the Carnatic
towards Arcot on 23 July 1781, with a terrifying army estimated
at 86-100,000 men, it was not Mohammed Ali, however but
the British who provoked Haidar's wrath, after violating
his territory to seize the western port of Mahé.
In fact, the Nawab had very little real independent power.
For the defence of his territory, he paid the British 400,000
pagodas per annum (=£160,000) and 10 out of the 21 battalions
of the Madras army were posted to garrison his forts. The
British derived income from his jagirs (land grants); and
Mohammed Ali's lavish life-style was financed by loans from
the Company's bankers - at very high rates. By 1780, as
Willison left for home, the Nawab's debts had risen to £3,340,000,
and Edmund Burke was thundering in the House of Commons
about scandalous morals in India.