Part 15
In her reign a fan was deemed an essential part of a lady’s dress, and the handle was often made of gold, silver, or ivory, of curious and expensive workmanship. In a comedy written about this time occurs the passage, “She hath a fan, with a short silver handle about the length of a barber’s syringe;” and a little later, in 1649, Sir William Davenant says, in _Love and Honour_, “All your plate, Vaso, is the silver handle of your own prisoner’s fan.” Shakspeare, too, repeatedly mentions the fan, as, for instance, in the following passage in _Romeo and Juliet_, the scene of which is in Italy:--
“_Nurse._--My fan, Peter.”
“_Mercutio._--Prythee, do good Peter, to hide her face, for the fan’s the fairer of the two.”
And again, in the same play, showing the custom of carrying the fan before ladies:--
“_Nurse._--Peter, take my fan, and go before.”
Most writers on costume consider that folding-fans, similar to those used in modern times, were introduced into England, probably from France, in the reign of James I. Fan-painting soon became a distinct profession, but we hear little of the folding-fan during the time of the Stuarts. The small feather-fan still kept its place as full-dress, as is shown by a print of the wife of Sir Henry Garway, who was Lord Mayor of London in 1640, She is represented as holding in her hand a fan similar to those used in the reign of Elizabeth.
By the early part of the eighteenth century the fan seems to have become an object of general use, and to have given considerable employment to painters, engravers, and makers. The manufacture, indeed, became so important that in 1709 the company of fan-makers, which is still in existence, was incorporated by letters patent from Queen Anne. The fraternity was governed by a master, two wardens, and twenty assistants; but they have never had either a hall or livery. The age of Queen Anne produced many distinguished writers, both in prose and verse; and, as we might expect, the fan did not escape their observation. It is mentioned both by Addison and Pope, but more particularly by Gay, who published, in 1714, a poem entitled “The Fan,” where he says:--
“The fan shall flutter in all female hands, And various fashions learn from various lands. For this shall elephants their ivory shed, And polished sticks the waving engine spread, His clouded mail the tortoise shall resign, And round the rivet pearly circles shine. On this shall Indians all their art employ, And with bright colours stain the gaudy toy; Their paint shall here in wildest fancies flow-- Their dress, their customs, their religion show. So shall the British fair their minds improve, And on the fan to distant climates rove.”
Doubtless, the most reasonable deduction to be arrived at is, that the fan has its origin in necessity; and in itself, trivial as it may appear, is perhaps of an importance few would conceive. It is not only an ornament to an _élégante_ for the purpose, it is said, of flirting and coquetry, but serves as an instrument to chastise a lap-dog or a puppy.
From the _Spectator_ of June 27, 1711, it appears that it was no easy matter for a lady to learn the necessary tactics and manœuvres of the fan, which, correctly acquired, no doubt formed one of the “accomplishments” of that age. They are thus described:--“Handle your fan; unfurl your fan; discharge your fan; ground your fan; recover your fan; flutter your fan. By the right observation of these few plain words of command, a woman of a tolerable genius, that will apply herself diligently to her exercise for the space of but one half-year, shall be able to give her fan all the graces that can possibly enter into that modish machine.” Directions are also given for the several evolutions, but the last, “Flutter your fan,” was undoubtedly by far the most important.
Among the many subjects devised for fans about this period is a painted one of Bartholomew Fair, temp. 1721, representing a view of Lee and Harper’s great booth, Faux, the conjuror, etc. They included also subjects from the Beggars’ Opera, and the famous works of Hogarth were called into request for the same purpose. Fans at this time were of such proportions as to give many opportunities to caricaturists and writers to make them the object of their ridicule and wit:--
“Say, Jenny, why that monstrous fan? What purpose does thy bosom move? Is it to save us or trepan? Is it to cure or quicken love?
If worn in pity’s gentle cause, Beneath, unseen, you mean to lie; I know a thousand eyes it draws, Which else, perhaps, had wandered by.”
Mrs. Abington, a celebrated actress, was considered an adept at flirting a fan; and being possessed of the highest refinement of taste in dress, her judgment and opinion were often solicited by ladies of rank.
“Pray, ladies, copy Abington; Observe the breeding in her air;-- There’s nothing of the actress there. Assume the fashion, if you can, And catch the graces of her fan.”
In the _Westminster Journal_ of February 23rd, 1751, a writer proposed a tax on fan mounts, which, he considered, would produce a revenue of £30,000 per annum.
In the following year an advertisement appeared in the _Daily Advertiser_ from _employés_ in the fan trade, thanking the Company of Fanmakers for their efforts to abolish the importation of fans, and their endeavours, by asserting the superiority of home-made fans over those of foreign manufacture, to gain the patronage of the ladies, and the consequent relief of the distressed members of the trade, who, through the extensive imports of foreign-made fans, were prevented from obtaining employment.
In the year 1753 the journeyman fanmakers presented the Dowager Princess of Wales with an elegant fan, which they represented to be far superior to Indian fans. In the same year a correspondent of Sylvanus Urban published complaints of snuff-taking by both sexes at church; the ladies also giving grave offence by the use of the fan mounts which he saw displayed by a row of ladies while kneeling at the Communion Table. Among the subjects were:--“Meeting of Isaac and Rebekah,” “Joseph and Potiphar’s Wife,” “Darby and Joan,” “Vauxhall Gardens,” “The Judgment of Paris,” “Harlequin, Pierrot, and Columbine,” “The Prodigal Son,” scenes from the “Rake’s Progress,” etc.
During the latter part of the last and the beginning of the present century, fans seem to have ceased to be a necessary accompaniment to a lady’s toilet, although they are still to be seen at balls and theatres, and of some utility, perhaps, judging from a print in which a lady and gentleman are represented sitting by each other, the gentleman “fluttering the fan,”--
“The suit obtained, they tread the mazy round; At length fatigued, a seat’s convenient found. Harry, assiduous, plies the glittering fan, And proves himself a very nice young man.”
_THE TRIALS OF A PORTRAIT PAINTER._
Who can conceive the troubles attendant upon the daily labour of a face painter? Hoppner once remarked to a young painter, “I’ll tell you what, sir: when you have to paint a portrait, particularly of a woman, make it handsome enough,--your sitter or her friends will find the likeness. Never you forget that.”
An Italian painter, on taking the portrait of a lady, perceived that when he was working at her mouth she was twisting her features in order to render it smaller, and put her lips into the most extreme contraction. “Do not trouble yourself so much, madam,” exclaimed the limner; “for, if you choose, I will draw you without any mouth at all.” It is needless to repeat here all the tales that have been told of the difficulties of a face painter. The following anecdotes will show to what extent of vanity and folly those people are subject who, though wishing to hand down to posterity their own portrait or that of some member of their family, are entirely ignorant of the simplest rules of Art; and, consequently, give considerable trouble and anxiety to the artist. For instance, how often in our exhibitions do we find a portrait painted of a citizen in the dress of a military man, or a naval officer in the costume of a Roman general in a toga, with bare arms! Most must be drawn in the manner of ancient Greece or Rome, instead of their proper habits; the sitter having his head so full of antiquity that everything must be according to the ancient taste.
“The grandest commission,” remarks an artist, “that ever blessed my hopes was a series of family portraits,--father, mother, a daughter just simpering into womanhood, and three as noisy, ugly, wiry-looking lads as any one would wish to hear, and be anxious not to see. All were progressing with great satisfaction to the affectionate family until, in an unlucky moment, I strengthened the shadow under the nose of Mr. Jones. In a moment all was uproar, one and all declaring that ‘Father never takes snuff, because mother thinks it a nasty, filthy habit.’ Out, therefore, came the shadow, and of course in, therefore, went the nose. The only objection made to Mrs. Jones’s ‘likeness’ was, that it did ‘not look at you;’ but how the deuce it ever should I could never find out, for the original was wholly incapable of bringing both eyes to bear upon any given object at one and the same time. The portraits of the juvenile male Joneses were, as their mother fondly expressed herself, ‘the very mottle of them;’ ‘but, sir,’ said she, ‘there is one thing I wish you to alter, I don’t like the eyes at all. I have been married to Jones these twenty years, and, as you see, have been a fruitful wife to him; I have, besides these, two babbies at home, and I do assure you, sir, and Jones knows it, I never had a child born in all our marriage days that had a speck in its eye. Please, sir, to oblige me by putting them out.’ With a groan I submitted, and painting out the lights I had, as I thought, properly introduced into the eyes, sent home the portraits of the young Joneses, every one as blind as a bat. I should not forget, that when I requested to know whether Miss Adeliza would be painted in a high or a low dress, her mother confidentially whispered to me that it was to be a low one, but I must mind and let the portrait be ‘partic’lar modest about the neck,’ as it was for a gentleman.”
Another story which he relates is of a rough, honest-hearted naval captain. “All that I did vastly pleased him, until, when nearly finishing the picture, I had begun to throw an incidental shadow across the lower part of the figure. The gallant gentleman saw in a glass that stood opposite what I was about to do, and rushing from his seat, seized my hand, crying out, ‘Avast there, young gentleman, what are you about? Who the devil ever saw an officer on the quarter-deck with his breeches in that mess? No, no, that won’t do.’ I submitted to my fate, and sent home the portrait with a pair of unpronounceables of unexceptionable whiteness.”
[Illustration]
_SEDDON’S PICTURE OF “JERUSALEM.”_
On the 23rd November, 1856, the gifted young artist, Thomas Seddon, died at Cairo on his way to the Holy Land. He was buried with all due solemnity in the same small cemetery whither he had, two years before, followed the remains of Mr. Nicholson (a traveller whom he accidentally met on his first journey to the East), and which he has touchingly described in a letter written at that time. A marble slab, surmounted by a simple, plain cross, with the following inscription at its foot,
“To me to live is Christ, and to die is gain,”
marks the spot where his remains rest. On the slab itself is engraved,
“THOMAS SEDDON, Artist, Who died at Cairo, the 23rd of November, 1856.”
To which is added a verse from one of his favourite hymns,
“Thou art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore thee, Whose God was thy Ransom, thy Guardian, thy Guide; He gave thee, He took thee, and He will restore thee,-- And death had no sting, for the Saviour hath died.”
A short time after the melancholy news of his death had arrived in England, some of his artist friends met together at the house of Ford Maddox Brown, Esq., for the purpose of considering what steps they could take to testify their respect for his memory, and their admiration of his works, which they felt deserved some public notice. They afterwards invited the co-operation of other gentlemen who had been acquainted with him and appreciated his efforts, and convened a meeting at the house of W. Holman Hunt, Esq., which was numerously attended. Professor Donaldson, John Ruskin, Esq., and others addressed those present, Mr. Ruskin, remarking, “that the position which Mr. Seddon occupied as an artist appears to deserve some public recognition quite other than could be generally granted to genius, however great, which had been occupied only in previously beaten paths. Mr. Seddon’s works are the first which represent a truly historic landscape art; that is to say, they are the first landscapes uniting perfect artistical skill with topographical accuracy; being directed, with stern self-restraint, to no other purpose than that of giving to persons who cannot travel, trustworthy knowledge of the scenes which ought to be most interesting to them. Whatever degrees of truth may have been attained or attempted by previous artists have been more or less subordinate to pictorial or dramatic effect.” At this meeting a committee was formed, and Mr. W. M. Rossetti appointed honorary secretary, “for the purpose of raising a subscription for the purchase of the oil picture of ‘Jerusalem,’ painted by the late Mr. Thomas Seddon, from his widow, for the sum of four hundred guineas, and to offer it to the National Gallery.”
The efforts of the committee were most successful. The Society of Arts kindly lent their spacious rooms for the exhibition of his works, which were collected for the purpose, and visited by a large number of persons. Mr. Ruskin again came forward, and delivered a most able address on the subject at a conversazione held for the purpose; and the result of these generous efforts was that a sum of nearly £600 was raised by public subscription. With this the committee purchased his picture of “Jerusalem,” as they had proposed, and offered it to the Trustees of the National Gallery, by whom it was accepted; and it is now at the South Kensington Museum. The balance of the subscription, after paying the contingent expenses, was presented to Mrs. Thomas Seddon, as a testimony of the recognition by the public of the merits of her husband.--_Memoir and Letters of Thomas Seddon, by his Brother._
We cannot conclude this interesting account of the late Thomas Seddon, without introducing the following eloquent appeal made at the meeting of the Society of Arts already referred to, by that powerful writer on Art, John Ruskin:-- “Whether they would further the noble cause of truth in Art, while they gave honour to a good and a great man, and consolation to those who loved him; or whether they would add one more to the victories of oblivion, and suffer this picture, wrought in the stormy desert of Aceldama, which was the last of his labours, to be also the type of their reward: whether they would suffer the thorn and the thistle to choke the seed that he had sown, and the sand of the desert to sweep over his forgotten grave.”
[Illustration]
_A GREAT PICTURE AND ITS VICISSITUDES._
One of the noblest paintings of the modern school is Lawrence’s “Hamlet Apostrophizing the Skull,” in the churchyard scene, as represented by the famous tragedian, John Kemble. It is a full-length, life-size, and was painted in 1801. Cunningham justly describes it as a work of the highest order,--sad, thoughtful, melancholy; with looks conversing with death and the grave; a perfect image of the great dramatist. About the year 1812, this celebrated picture was exhibited, and for sale, at the European Museum, King Street, St. James’s, London. Mr. Robert Ashby, the engraver, of Lombard Street, on visiting the gallery was surprised to see so fine a specimen of modern art so situated, and inquired of the keeper as to the circumstance which led to its degradation, from whom he learnt that Mr. Maddocks, M.P., had previously purchased it with the intention of placing it as an altar-piece in a church which he had recently erected in a village called Tre Madoc, in Wales; but the bishop of the diocese having expressed his disapproval of its being placed in the church, the purpose of Mr. Maddocks was defeated, and he sent the picture for sale as above. The price demanded was two hundred guineas, which Mr. Ashby agreed to give: at the same time observing that if any other purchaser offered during the time of the gallery remaining open, he would relinquish his right; his motive being solely to prevent the picture being returned unsold. The result was that Mr. Ashby became the purchaser at the price stated, and retained it in his possession for a time; when the artist, Mr. Lawrence (afterwards Sir Thomas) wrote to him (Mr. A.), inquiring whether he would part with the picture, he (Mr. L.) being desirous of obtaining it for the then Marquis of Abercorn, who had designed to place it in the saloon at his seat at Stanmore. Mr. Ashby immediately consented to the re-sale, at the same sum which he had paid, much gratified at the prospect of its being so suitably placed. Here another interruption occurred; the Marquis of Abercorn died, and with him the project of removing the “Hamlet” to Stanmore. From this time it remained in the possession of Mr. Lawrence, until he obtained the patronage of George IV., who displayed his liberality and fine taste by purchasing it for one thousand guineas. William IV., in 1836, presented the painting to the National Gallery, whence it has since been transferred to a distinguished place in the South Kensington Museum.
[Illustration]
_THE FRESCOES IN THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT._
“Mr. Herbert is, we think, the first painter who has divested the sacred legislator of adventitious solemnity and conventional marks of power, and substituted for them the worn countenance and wasted frame of a chief who leads an army through the desert, and confers upon them laws destined to maintain a moral dominion over all the generations of mankind.
“One reason why Mr. Herbert’s picture is so worthy of its fame, is, that the painter never grudged labour or loss upon it. In 1850 he was commissioned to paint nine frescoes in the Peers’ Robing Room at the price of £9000. For several years before he had been earning nearly £2000 a year, yet he was willing to give up nine years to work for about half the sum. When he found that the fresco process was imperfect, he unhesitatingly obliterated his work, and began it anew in the water-glass method. He was to have received £2000 for the ‘Moses,’ but the commission appointed in 1864 recommended that the price should be raised to £5000. The same sum is to be paid to Mr. Maclise for the ‘Death of Nelson,’ and, of course, for the ‘Meeting at La Belle Alliance.’ It is plain that when the thought of decorating the Houses of Parliament with frescoes was first entertained, no great expense was anticipated. Mr. Dyce said he understood that in Munich Professor Schnorr was paid at the rate of £500 a year, which would be equal to £700 in this country, and had to pay his assistants. For this sum Mr. Dyce thought the services of the chief English artists might be commanded, ‘those at least who are engaged in subjects of fancy. The services of those who paint portraits would not be obtained at that sum; but I believe it is taking a high average to state the income of the more respectable artists of this country at £500 a year.’ Accordingly, the first frescoes in the House of Lords were ordered at the rate of £400 for the cartoon, and £400 for the fresco. Mr. Dyce was to paint the ‘Legend of King Arthur’ in the Queen’s Robing Room, and to receive £800 a year for six years. The eight compartments in the Peers’ and Commons’ corridors were to have been painted in oil, and £500 was to have been paid for the first picture, and £450 for each of the remainder. But when frescoes were substituted, the remuneration for each was raised to £600.
“The prices paid are not extravagant, though of course somewhat higher than those paid in Germany. It is well known that King Louis always bought in the cheapest market. Count Raczynski states that Hess received £3700 for his frescoes in the chapel of All Saints, and £5000 for those in the basilica of St. Boniface. For the Nibelungen halls in the Palace, Schnorr, according to the same authority, was paid £2600; for his frescoes from Walther von de Vogelweide in the Queen’s first Ante-chamber, Gassen received £360; Folz for the Burger Room, £460; Kaulbach for the Throne Room, £300, and for the Sleeping Chamber, £666; Hess for the Theocritus Room, £600; and Moriz von Schwind for the Tieck Room, £240. Contrast with these figures the price paid to Kaulbach for his paintings in the New Museum at Berlin--£37,500, with an allowance of £3,750 for materials.”--_Edinburgh Review, January, 1866._
[Illustration]
_THE RIDING MASTER AND THE ELGIN MARBLES._
Shortly after the Elgin Marbles were thrown open to the public indiscriminately, a gentlemanly-looking person was observed to stand in the middle of the gallery on one spot for upwards of an hour, changing his attitude only by turning himself round. At last he left the room, but in the course of two hours he again took his former station, attended by about a dozen young gentlemen; and there to them he made nearly the following observations:--“See, gentlemen, look at the riders all round the room,” alluding to the Friezes; “see how they sit; see with what ease and elegance they ride! I never saw such men in my life; they have no saddles, no stirrups; they must have leaped upon their horses in grand style. You will do well to study the position of these noble fellows; stay here this morning instead of riding with me, and I am sure you will seat yourselves better to-morrow.” I need hardly tell the reader that this person was a riding-master, and that after he had been so astonished at the sculptor’s riders, he brought all his pupils to whom he was that morning to have given lessons at his riding-school.--_Smith’s “Nollekens and his Times.”_
[Illustration]
_A HALLOWED SPOT._