Miss Merrylees, whose miniatures, seven in number, make a fine show at
the Academy, once had to paint a miniature of a clergyman; but the only
way of getting his right expression was to make him recite long poems
and dramatic scenes from Shakespeare. While he was doing this, Miss
Merrylees "went on painting madly."
Another time she was painting a little boy, who was sitting very still
and silent.
Suddenly he convulsed his painter by propounding this tremendous query:
"Do you like your groom to sit _so_, or _so_?" And he indicated two
varieties of the akimbo manner.
A charming portrait of a pretty child indicates Miss Merrylees' style of
work. This was exhibited both in the Royal Academy and the Paris Salon.
Holbein, who was a great miniaturist, had a very summary method of
dealing with people who troubled him while he was painting miniatures. A
nobleman once came into his studio while he was painting a lady, and was
promptly thrown downstairs, like Daddy Longlegs of immortal fame.
The King, Henry VIII., heard of it, but sympathised with the painter.
"Of seven peasants I can make as many lords, but not one Holbein," he
said.
King Henry had a special reason for this sympathy. When he heard of a
pretty woman he sent Holbein to paint her, with a view to making her his
wife. On one occasion, at least, a flattering miniature led its unhappy
subject into trouble--Anne of Cleves.
[Illustration: MRS. C. L. SHAND. _By Edith Maas._]
A word should be said about the origin of the miniature. In the first
instance the word had nothing to do with the size of a painting. It
comes from the Latin word _minium_, or red lead. In old days the
capitals of illuminated missals were painted with this by great artists,
while the less important work was done by minor ones. Thus the
_miniatura_ meant the picture painted by the great artist. The word
miniature, in its present sense, was born in the 18th century, which was
the best period of British miniature painting.
The material on which miniatures have been painted has varied from time
to time. To-day ivory cut very thin is almost invariably used.
The elephant is not a graceful or artistic beast, and no particularly
sentimental thoughts at first sight attach to him. But artists to-day
would be at a loss without his tusks, and much sentiment is lavished on
them in the form of lovers' portraits.
While love lasts the miniature will always be in vogue, for artists
frankly admit that it is so convenient to carry in the pocket. It
represents so much in so little. Miniature painting is especially
therefore "the lovers' art." Some say that it makes the subject
"beautiful for ever," and what more could Romeo want?
Ivory, however, is of comparatively modern use in the art world and the
studio. Vellum, gold, silver, and enamel were the things on which
miniatures were painted before the days of ivory.
The prices of these dainty pictures vary enormously. As much as L3,000
was paid for one in the Hamilton collection, while another in a diamond
setting sold at Christie's for L2,000. Nowadays, L5 to L100 is easily
obtained, according to the skill of the painter.
Her Majesty the Queen is a great collector of miniatures. Her collection
at Windsor is of great historic as well as financial value. She has
greatly encouraged the art, and has been repeatedly painted in
miniature. She frequently gives these miniatures of herself away as
special presents.
Miss Carlisle painted one of the Queen with which she was very pleased.
She gave it to the Prince of Wales, who said that it was the best of his
mother which had been painted for many years.
[Illustration: MISS PAMELA PLOWDEN. _By Winifred Hope Thomson._]
To deal in detail with the miniatures on these pages. Mr. Alyn Williams
is the painter of the charming portrait of a lady in the Gainsborough
style.
Miss Kuessner, who is represented by a miniature of Lady Dudley, has
already painted an enormous number of ivories. She arrived in New York
in 1893 an unknown girl, with a letter of introduction to a lady of
social influence, but "very exclusive."
[Illustration: THE PRIDE OF ENGLAND. _By Esme Collings_]
In much fear and trembling the letter was presented. The lady was too
unwell to see the artist, but she sent word down that she would see the
miniature she had with her.
"This was almost more than she could bear, and she sat waiting the
maid's return in sadness that was near despair. But when she did come,
how the little miniaturist's sinking heart leaped; for the maid brought
an invitation--the lady would see her in her own room." So a friend
tells the tale.
Since then Miss Kuessner has pained many of the English aristocracy, and
gets L100 a miniature.
This is how Miss Kuessner works. First comes the study of her sitter, and
perhaps one entire sitting will be devoted to this. Then follows the
sketching of the face on the ivory--a transcript of the form and spirit.
Lastly comes the actual painting, with infinitesimally small brushes,
each stroke made under a powerful magnifying glass.
Lady Dudley's marriage was quite a romance. She was the daughter of Mr.
Gurney, of Norfolk, whose business reverses caused him to resign his
partnership in the well-known Gurney Bank and surrender his possessions
for the benefit of his creditors.
His wife came to London and opened a milliner's shop, and in this her
two daughters served. But it was not a success, and so the daughters
entered the employ of a well-known West End _modiste_. But the Duchess
of Bedford and Lady Henry Somerset became interested in them; and it was
as the adopted daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Bedford that Rachel
Gurney married Lord Dudley.
Miss Winifred Hope Thomson, whose miniature of Miss Pamela Plowden we
give, had the place of honour in the miniature room of the Academy this
year. Simplicity of style is the feature of Miss Thomson's work, and
probably the reason why her miniatures are considered like those of the
great Cosway.
[Illustration: "DAFFODIL." _By E. J. Harding_.]
[Illustration: HON. MRS. BENYON. _By Edith Maas_.]
Miss Edith Maas is another lady whose miniatures are very greatly
admired for their beauty and style. Her portrait of Delia, the daughter
of the Rev. and Hon. Ed. Lyttelton, Head Master of Haileybury College,
has been exhibited in the New Gallery. The other miniatures we give are
of Mrs. Shand, wife of His Honour Judge Shand, and the Hon. Mrs.
Benyon, daughter of Lord North. The latter was exhibited in the '93
Academy.
[Illustration: LADY DUDLEY. _By Miss Kuessner._]
The number of ladies well known as clever miniature painters is quite
extraordinary, and with but few exceptions all the portraits on these
pages were painted by ladies.
Miss M. Josephine Gibson sends us two charming pictures which she calls
"Ma Belle" and "Kathleen." These are exquisite, both in conception and
execution. Mrs. Lee Hankey, who, with Miss Gibson, is on the Council of
the Society of Miniature Painters, is represented by one strong picture.
"Daffodil" is by Mrs. E. W. Andrews, also known as "E. J. Harding." All
these ladies have miniatures in this year's Academy.
From the studios of Mr. Esme Collings, of Bond Street, comes the
charming miniature of two girls' heads, originally painted in black and
white. This gentleman has published a very dainty little brochure on
"The Revival of Miniature Art," which gives some romantic stories about
miniatures and their painters.
One tells how the Comte de Guiche, being in love with a daughter of
Charles I., wore her portrait, mounted on a snuff box, over his heart,
and owed his life to this circumstance, for the box turned aside a
bullet which struck him in battle--a hint which all soldiers should
take. This box is now in the possession of the Baroness Burdett-Coutts.
Other stories tell of Richard Gibson and Miss Biffin, both gifted
miniaturists. But the first was a dwarf, 3 feet 10 inches high, who
married another dwarf of his own height who lived till she was
ninety-seven, and became the mother of nine children. As for Miss
Biffin, she was limbless, but managed her paint-brush and pencil with
her mouth.
Of course there are miniatures _and_ miniatures. But Shakespeare, by a
miniature in words, has given us an exquisite conception of what a
miniature in art should be--at least when it is "Fair Portia's
counterfeit."
"... Here in her hair
The painter plays the spider, and hath woven
A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men
Faster than gnats in cobwebs; but her eyes--
How could he see to do them? having made one,
Methinks it should have power to steal both his,
And leave itself unfurnished."
But Bassanio was not an art critic--merely a lover! The miniaturist,
however, who can weave on ivory "a golden mesh to entrap the hearts of
men" may surely find content.
[Illustration: THE LATE LORD COLERIDGE. _By Maud Coleridge._]
[Illustration: HIS LORDSHIP & MISS O'CALLAGHAN]