Frederic William Burton got knighted, but grudgingly.

This Irish painter rocked 19th century museums with painstaking watercolors that he painted with his nondominant hand. After an accident in his youth incapacitated his right arm, Burton made the obvious choice: switch hands, land his artwork in museums worldwide, and serve as director to the National Gallery in London. Did I mention he painted his intricate tableaus with poor eyesight? Just a classic average Joe, really.

When he wasn’t busy changing the definition of “watercolor,” Burton was turning down pesky offers of baronetcy. This rank just didn’t appeal to Frederic, who finally agreed to be knighted instead. Whether Burton was tired of the bothersome requests or simply enjoyed King Arthur roleplay is unclear. He did rock the occasional cape (à la Sherlock Holmes), so it’s safe to assume he enjoyed a bit of drama.

Burton’s posse of high society pals included various knights, George Eliot herself, and the King of Bavaria. He was a fan favorite of celebrity patrons who sought to immortalize their vanity in watercolor portraits. Unfortunately, Burton wasn’t as good at multitasking as he was at playing socialite. His painting career ended with his new position at the National Gallery, making us wonder if the museum gave the poor man any time to himself. Maybe Burton was just tired of his laborious left-handed watercolors?

Burton’s impressive stint as director gained the museum some fan favorites. London has Burton to thank for da Vinci’s Virgin of the Rocks and Vermeer’s A Young Woman Standing at a Virginal. He also bought a Velázquez that later turned out to be the work of the artist’s popular assistant. Nice try, Burton, but that’s kind of like saying you’ve brought your kids a puppy and giving them a stuffed animal instead. Still cute, but sort of the letdown of the century.