THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
Angelica Kauffman.--Parentage and Birth.--Beautiful Scenery
of her native Land.--Early Impulse to Painting.--Adopts the
Style of Mengs.--Her Residence in Como.--Instruction.--Music or
Painting?--Beauty of Nature around her.--Angelica’s Letter about
Como.--Escape from Cupid.--Removal to Milan.--Introduction to great
Works of Art.--Studies of the Lombard Masters.--The Duke of Modena
her Patron.--Portrait of the Duchess of Carrara.--Success.--Return to
Schwarzenberg.--Painting in Fresco.--Homely Life of the Artist.--Milan
and Florence.--Rome.--Acquaintance with Winkelmann.--Angelica
paints his Portrait.--Goes to Naples.--Studies in Rome.--In
Venice.--Acquaintance with noble English Families.--In London.--A
brilliant Career.--Fuseli’s Attachment to her.--Appointed Professor
in the Academy of Arts.--Romantic Incident of her Travel in
Switzerland.--The weary Travelers.--The libertine Lord.--The Maiden’s
Indignation.--Unexpected Meeting in the aristocratic Circles of
London.--The Lord’s Suit renewed.--Rejected with Scorn.--His Rank
and Title spurned.--Revenge.--The Impostor in Society.--Angelica
deceived into Marriage.--She informs the Queen.--Her Father’s
Suspicions.--Discovery of the Cheat.--The Wife’s Despair.--The
false Marriage annulled.--The Queen’s Sympathy.--Stories of
Angelica’s Coquetry.--Marriage with Zucchi.--Return to Italy.--Her
Father’s Death.--Residence in Rome.--Circle of literary
Celebrities.--Angelica’s Works.--Criticisms.--Opinions of Mengs
and Fuseli.--The Portraits in the Pitti Gallery.--Death of
Zucchi.--Invasion of Italy.--Angelica’s Melancholy.--Journey and
Return.--Her Death and Funeral.
ANGELICA KAUFFMAN.
Maria Anna Angelica Kauffman was born in Coire, the capital of the
Grisons, in 1741. Her father, the painter Johann Joseph Kauffman, had
been called to that place from Schwartzenberg on the Boden-See, by the
bishop’s appointment, to paint church pictures. He married there, and
remained till 1742, before removing to Morbegno in Lombardy.
An only child, Angelica’s early years were tended by the care of
loving parents; and the grandeur and beauty of nature around her home,
the vine-clad hills and wild forests of her native land, the blue
waters and bright scenery she was accustomed to contemplate in Italy,
impressed her susceptible imagination, and awakened in her youthful
breast a quick and joyous sympathy with nature. Though not specially
intended by her father for the artist’s calling, the early impulse of
genius led her to painting, and she was permitted to follow the bent of
her inclination with such direction only as made the work appointed her
seem like a pleasant recreation. She preferred her lessons, in fact,
to any amusement. Very different was the early training of this gentle
spirit to that of Raphael Mengs, compelled to labor under strict rules;
and though Angelica afterward adopted the style of this celebrated
German master, hers differed in the possession of a light and charming
grace, which could only have been derived from her native endowments
and the free indulgence of her tastes.
At the age of nine this child of genius was much noticed on account of
her wonderful pastel pictures. When her father left Morbegno, in 1752,
to reside in Como, she found greater scope for her ingenious talent,
and better instruction in that city; and, in addition to her practice
with the brush and pencil, she devoted herself to studies in general
literature and in music. Her proficiency in the latter was so rapid,
and the talent evinced so decided, besides the possession of a voice
unusually fine, that her friends, a few years afterward, urged that
her life should be devoted to music. She was herself undecided for some
time to which vocation she should consecrate her powers. In one of her
pictures she represents herself standing, in an attitude of hesitation,
between the allegorical figures of Music and Painting. Her love for the
latter gained the ascendency; and so great was her success, while yet
of tender age, that her portrait of a steward of the Bishop of Como
gained her a number of profitable orders.
The exquisite natural scenery by which Angelica was at this time
surrounded, in a home on the borders of the loveliest lake in the
world, had a genial influence on her feelings, and the time passed
there was the happiest of her life. She is said to have painted the
portrait of the Archbishop of Como, at a very early age. At a later
period she recurs with pleasure to the years passed in this charming
abode.
“You ask, my friend,” she says, in one of her letters, “why Como is
ever in my thoughts? It was at Como that, in my most happy youth,
I tasted the first real enjoyment of life. I saw stately palaces,
beautiful villas, elegant pleasure-boats, a splendid theatre. I thought
myself in the midst of the luxuries of fairyland. I saw the urchin,
too, young Love, in the act of letting fly an arrow pointed at my
breast; but I, a maiden fancy free, avoided the shaft, and it fell
harmless. After the lapse of years,” she proceeds, “the genius that
presides over my destiny led me again into this delicious region,
where I tasted the delights of friendship with the charms of nature,
and listened with deeper joy than ever to the murmur of waves on that
unrivaled shore. One day I was walking with agreeable company around
one of the most beautiful villas near the lake. In the shadow of a
wood I again saw the youthful god slumbering. I approached him. He
awakened, looked at me, and, recognizing her who had contemned his
power, sprang up suddenly, intent on swift revenge. He pursued me, the
arrow sped once more, and but by a hair’s breadth failed to reach my
heart.”
All too quickly, indeed, passed the two years of her first residence in
Como; and it was with poignant regret that she left her beloved home,
when, in 1754, her father went to settle his family in Milan.
Even this dreaded change, however, was a fortunate one; for it seemed
to be appointed that Angelica’s youth should glide away like a stream
in the sunshine of happiness. A new world of wonders opened to her view
in this city, where she saw works of art surpassing in merit those
she had yet beheld. She had copied antique models in her drawing, and
the engravings of pictures by the early masters which were among her
father’s treasures. Here she was first introduced to an acquaintance
with works of great beauty and importance in the history of art. Here
Leonardo da Vinci had labored, and founded a school in which are still
conspicuous the gentle dignity, purity, and elevation that live in
his creations. The impressions received from her contemplation of the
productions of the most famous of the Lombard masters, and the care
with which she studied them till her own style became imbued with their
spirit, decisively influenced the professional career of the young
artist.
The change had a not less favorable effect upon her worldly
circumstances. Her copies of some pictures found in the palace of
Robert d’Este, Duke of Modena and Governor of Milan, induced him to
declare himself her patron, and led to her introduction to the Duchess
of Carrara. After she had painted by command the portrait of that
princess, she received orders for a number of pictures for other ladies
of rank.
The associations to which this success gave rise contributed to give
the youthful painter that self-possession and dignity of manner,
combined with a quiet modesty most becoming her age and sex, which
afterward marked her deportment in elevated circles of society.
Thus the few years of Kauffman’s residence in this favored Italian city
were productive of manifold advantages to his daughter. The death of
his wife determined him to another removal, and he went to undertake
a great work in his native city of Schwarzenberg. In this enterprise
Angelica was of essential service, having for the first time an
opportunity of engaging in an enterprise of magnitude, and of a kind
not often practiced by women. She painted in fresco the figures of the
Twelve Apostles after copper engravings from Piazetta.
It has been said that the time spent in this country at this period
by the young artist was in the home of her father’s brother, an
honest “farmer, in comfortable though narrow circumstances. At first,
Angelica, accustomed to the wonders of art and the splendor of Italian
cities, could scarcely bring herself to endure this homely mode of
existence. The rude manners of those by whom she was surrounded--the
utter want of elegance or taste--displeased and disgusted her.
Gradually, however, as habit softened down these first impressions,
the poetic side of the picture dawned upon her mind. She learned to
love the homely simplicity of that hospitable dwelling, with its gabled
front and narrow windows--the gloom and solitude of those dark pine
forests, through which the sunbeams could scarcely penetrate, and
ceased to long for the marble palaces of Milan and the orange-groves
of Como. Besides, she had little time for idle regrets, the interior
decoration of a church in the neighborhood being intrusted to her
father and herself. Her success in an undertaking so difficult excited
considerable attention.”
After the completion of this work, which won the enthusiastic
appreciation of the Bishop of Constance, a season of disquiet followed,
with frequent changes of residence and a crowding of commissions,
while the artist in vain longed for an opportunity to revisit the
depository of art treasures--Italy. To fulfill this wish, and complete
her artistic education, Angelica first returned with her father to
Milan, and thence went to Florence, where she threw herself with
restless zeal into the study of the great master-pieces in which that
city is so rich. Her performances already met with the appreciation
that was afterward testified by the admission of her portraits into the
collection there made of original paintings by artists of celebrity.
Cardinal de Roth called her to Constance for his portrait.
Yet even Florence was regarded by her only as a place of preparatory
study; the great goal of her ambition was Rome. Thither she went in
1763, and her usual good fortune followed her. She went through a
course of perspective the following year. The immortal Winkelmann was
then in the midst of his great work of breathing new life into ancient
art, and it was his delight to interpret the inspiration for others,
and to promote social intercourse and a good understanding among
artists.
It was not long ere the youthful votary became acquainted with this
great man. It was beautiful to see the friendship that subsisted
between this girl of eighteen, in the fresh bloom of life, and the
experienced man of sixty, who had spent so many years of labor in his
profession: she brilliant and ardent, full of hope and enthusiasm--his
brow furrowed with study and reflection; both inspired by the same
spirit; both having felt the same ardent desire to visit the Eternal
City.
Angelica found both pleasure and profit in Winkelmann’s society, always
in the company of her friend, the wife of Raphael Mengs. A portrait of
him, painted by her at this time, and afterward engraved by her, amply
proved, by its excellent likeness, vivid coloring, and vigorous touch,
and, above all, by its spiritual expression, how thoroughly she had
comprehended the spirit of the greatest disciples of art. Winkelmann
announced to his friends, not without evident satisfaction, that his
portrait had been painted “by a young and beautiful woman.”
Ere long, a command to copy some paintings in the royal gallery at
Naples called her to that city, so favored by the beauty of its
situation and the charm of its climate. Here she gained new ideas in
the contemplation of numerous master-pieces of old time, as well as a
rich reward for her labors in executing orders from many persons of
rank. Her abode in that soft, luxurious clime, surrounded by nature’s
loveliness, did not, however, enervate her character, nor impair the
freshness and naiveté of her style.
In 1764 we find her again in Rome. Here she passed a year in the
prosecution of her studies, including architecture and perspective,
continuing her friendship with Winkelmann. Her observations of
Italian art were completed by studies of the works of the Caracci
in Bologna, and Titian, Tintoretto, and Paul Veronese in Venice.
In the last-mentioned city Angelica made the acquaintance of an
English lady--the accomplished Lady Wentworth, wife of the British
resident--who afterward took her to London.
During her stay in Naples she had been received into relations
of intimacy with several noble English families, and had taken
their orders for paintings. It was thought that in London a more
distinguished and more lucrative success would be commanded than she
could hope for in a country so rich in artistic achievements as Italy.
This was in truth the case; and after Angelica had passed through
Paris, availing herself of its advantages, to London, she found open
to her a career of brilliant success, productive of much pecuniary
gain. Her talents and winning manners raised her up patrons and
friends among the aristocracy. Persons attached to the court engaged
her professional services; and the most renowned painter in England,
Sir Joshua Reynolds, was of the circle of her friends. It is said he
offered her his hand, and I have been told by Mr. Robert Balmanno,
who knew Fuseli personally, that he was one of her suitors. She was
numbered among the painters of the Royal Society, and received the rare
honor, for a woman, of an appointment to a professorship in the Academy
of Arts in London, being, meanwhile, universally acknowledged to occupy
a brilliant position in the best circles of fashionable society.
A writer in the Westminster Review gives a romantic account of an
incident that led to the greatest misfortune of Angelica’s life:
“It was in early girlhood, while traveling with her father through
Switzerland to their native land, that she first beheld the man who was
to exercise so fatal an influence on her destiny. Angelica was then
only in her seventeenth year, her dawning talents had already attracted
considerable attention, but as both father and daughter were poor, they
were compelled to travel on foot, resting at night at the little inns
by the wayside. One evening, when, wearied with the long day’s journey,
they entered a humble house of entertainment, they were informed by the
landlord that they must go farther, for a couple of “grand seigneurs,”
just arrived, had engaged all the rooms for themselves and their suite.
The weary travelers insisted on their right to remain, and the debate
was growing warm, when one of the gentlemen for whose accommodation
they were rejected made his appearance, and with great politeness
begged them to enter the dining-room and share their repast. The good
Kauffman, whose frank, confiding nature was always a stranger to
suspicion, at once consented, despite the whispered entreaties of his
daughter, who, with the intuitive perception of her sex, had discerned
something offensive beneath the polished courtesy of their inviter.
She was not mistaken; at the table Lord E---- soon forgot the respect
due to youth and innocence, and attempted some liberty. Angelica
indignantly repulsed it, and on its repetition, rising hastily from the
table, drew her father with her, and instantly left the house.”
Years afterward, while Angelica was living in England--“welcomed with
enthusiasm, sought by the noblest and most gifted in the land, when
all seemed to smile upon her path, in a fatal hour she again lighted
on the man whose undisguised libertinism had so deeply wounded her
modesty ten years before. It was in the midst of a brilliant circle,
where all the _beaux esprits_ of London were assembled, that they again
met. Lord E---- had long since lost every trace of her, and great was
his amazement to recognize in the elegant woman and celebrated artist
the humble little pedestrian of the Swiss mountains. If he had thought
her charming then, how much more lovely did she seem to him now; his
heart and fancy were alike inflamed, and he resolved that this time,
at least, she should not escape him. Feigned repentance for the past,
assurances of unselfish devotion which sought for nothing in return
save the friendship and esteem of its object, flattery, insinuation,
all were employed. Angelica, trusting and guileless, believed him; nor
was it till, fancying himself secure of triumph, he threw off the mask,
that she even suspected his baseness. Equally shocked and indignant,
she would no longer admit him to her society.
“This only stimulated his passions. Perhaps he thought it a pretext
to lure him to more honorable offers; at all events, despairing of
winning the prize by any other means, he laid his rank and title at her
feet. But Angelica was no Pamela to receive with humble gratitude the
hand of him who had insulted her virtue. Her mild but resolute refusal
stung him to madness. If what some of her biographers assert be true,
he forced himself into her presence, and sought by violence that which
no entreaties could win; but here, too, he failed. The rumor of his
worthless conduct got abroad, and he found it most convenient to leave
England for a time, vowing revenge. The subsequent portion of the story
is well known.”
Others say it was an English painter, who, out of jealousy of the
talents of Angelica, instigated to his base plot the man who deceived
her. Be that as it may, she was undoubtedly the victim of a conspiracy
arranged with no less malignity than art. It was a counterpart to the
story of the Lady of Lyons; a rejected suitor vowing revenge, and using
as his instrument to obtain it a man very different in character from
the noble Claude.
A low-born adventurer, who assumed the name of a gentleman of rank
and character--that of his master, Count Frederic de Horn--played a
conspicuous part at that time in London society, and was skillful
enough to deceive those with whom he associated. He approached our
artist, who was then about twenty-six, and in the bloom of her
existence. He paid his respects as one who rendered the deepest homage
to her genius; then he passed into the character of an unassuming and
sympathizing friend. Finally, he appealed to her romantic generosity
by representing himself as threatened with a terrible misfortune, from
which she only could save him by accepting him as her husband. A sudden
and secret marriage he averred was necessary.
Poor Angelica, who had shunned love on the banks of Como, and under the
glowing skies of Italy; and since her coming to London had rejected
many offers of the most advantageous alliance, that she might remain
free to devote herself to her art, was caught in the fine-spun snare,
and yielded to chivalrous pity for one she believed worthy of her
heart’s affection. The marriage was celebrated by a Catholic priest,
without the formality of writings, and without witnesses.
Angelica had received commissions to paint several members of the
royal family and eminent personages of the court, and her talents
had procured her the favorable notice of the Queen of England. One
day, while she was painting at Buckingham Palace, her majesty entered
into conversation with her, and Angelica communicated to her royal
friend the fact of her marriage. The queen congratulated her, and sent
an invitation to the Count de Horn to present himself at court. The
impostor, however, dared not appear so openly, and he kept himself very
close at home, for he well knew that it could not be long before the
deception would be discovered.
At length the suspicions of Angelica’s father, to whom her marriage had
been made known, led him to inquiries, which were aided by friends of
influence. About this time, some say, the real count returned, and was
surprised at being frequently congratulated on his marriage. Then came
the mortifying discovery that the pretended count was a low impostor.
The queen informed Angelica, and assured her of her sympathy.
The fellow had been induced to seek the poor girl’s hand from motives
of cupidity alone, desiring to possess himself of the property she had
acquired by her labors. He now wished to compel her to a hasty flight
from London. Believing herself irrevocably bound to him, Angelica
resolved to submit to her fate; but her firmness and strength of nature
enabled her to evade compliance with his requisition that she should
leave England, till the truth was made known to her--that he who called
himself her husband was already married to another woman still living.
This discovery made it dangerous for the impostor to remain in London,
and he was compelled to fly alone, after submitting unwillingly to the
necessity of restoring some three hundred pounds obtained from his
victim, to which he had no right.
The false marriage was, of course, immediately declared null and
void. These unhappy circumstances in no way diminished the interest
and respect manifested for the lady who, in plucking the rose of
life, had been so severely wounded by its thorns; on the contrary,
she was treated with more attention than ever, and received several
unexceptionable offers of marriage. But all were declined; she chose to
live only for her profession.
One of Angelica’s biographers pronounces her “proof against flattery.”
Nollekens, on the other hand, accused her of having been a coquette
in her youth. While at Rome, before her marriage, he said she
was extremely fond of personal admiration. “One evening she took
her station in one of the most conspicuous boxes of the theatre,
accompanied by two artists, both of whom, as well as many others, were
desperately enamored of her. She had her place between her two adorers;
and while her arms were folded before her in front of the box over
which she leaned, she managed to press a hand of both, so that each
imagined himself the cavalier of her choice.”
After fifteen years’ residence in England, when the physician who
attended her suffering father advised return to Italy, and the invalid
expressed his fear of dying and leaving her unprotected, Angelica
yielded to his entreaties, and bestowed her hand upon the painter
Antonio Zucchi.
This gentleman was born in Venice in 1728, and had worked there
upon historical pieces. He afterward took to landscape-painting and
architecture, and many of his designs were published in learned works
of the day. Being induced to go to England, he obtained an excellent
place, and won the warm friendship of Mr. Kauffman. The marriage
with his daughter took place in 1781, and proved a most happy one,
undisturbed by any untoward occurrence till the death of Zucchi.
Angelica, with her husband and her father, now returned to the sunny
south. Stopping in Schwarzenberg to visit their relatives, they
proceeded to Italy, settling themselves for a prolonged stay. In
January of the following year Kauffman expired in the arms of his
loving child.
The wedded pair, anxious to escape from the shadow of this sorrow,
hastened to Rome, where they fixed their permanent abode, paying only
a few visits to Naples at the command of the royal family. Their house
was the centre of attraction to the artistic and literary society of
that capital of art; and Madame Zucchi did the honors and dispensed
hospitalities with a grace peculiarly her own, without losing a
particle of her energy in the prosecution of her painting, or any
portion of the love for it that had distinguished her early years.
This may account for the uniform individuality discernible in her
productions, in the merits and defects of which may be traced the
peculiarities of her nature and training.
In Rome, Angelica became acquainted with Goethe, Herder, and other
great men who at different times visited the Eternal City. Goethe says
of her in one of his letters, “The good Angelica has a most remarkable,
and, for a woman, really unheard-of talent; one must see and value
what she does and not what she leaves undone. There is much to learn
from her, particularly as to work, for what she effects is really
marvelous.” And in his work entitled “Winkelmann and his Century,” he
observes concerning her: “The light and pleasing in form and color,
in design and execution, distinguish the numerous works of our artist.
No living painter excels her in dignity, or in the delicate taste with
which she handles the pencil.”
At the same time she has been thought deficient in strength of outline,
variety and force of touch; her coloring has been said to lack depth
and warmth; while all acknowledge her grace, sweetness, and delicacy,
and the freedom and ease, with the correctness and elegance of her
drawing. Her works have been justly called “light and lovely May-games
of a charming fantasy.”
Among her character-pictures have been noted particularly “Allegra”
and “Penserosa,” and fancy portraits of Sappho and Sophonisba, with
the goddesses of Grecian mythology; also figures and scenes from the
modern poets, such as the delicate and bewitching Una, from Spenser’s
“Faery Queen,” and simple allegorical representations. These last
were favorite subjects with her, and were taken both from classic and
romantic history, as “Venus and Adonis,” “Rinaldo and Armida,” “The
Death of Heloise,” “Sappho inspired by Love,” etc. The praise can not
be denied her of having essentially aided the progress of modern art,
without parting with any portion of her feminine reserve and purity.
Her pictures, with Mengs’s writings, helped to liberate painting from
the exclusive school of Carlo Maratti.
Among her best compositions have been noted “Leonardo da Vinci Dying in
the arms of Francis I.;” “The Return of Arminius”--painted for Joseph
II.--“The Funeral Pomp of Pallas;” and “The Nymph Surprised,” covering
herself hastily with a white veil. In painting portraits, she had the
habit of waiting, before sketching, to seize on some favorite attitude
or expression. She understood the effects of clare-obscure, and took
care to avoid confusion in her figures. Her draperies were designed
with taste, and not superfluous.
An amateur once said to her, “Your angels could walk without deranging
their robes.”
She was in the habit of throwing on paper her reflections, and
preserving the souvenirs. The following words were written on one of
her pictures:
“I will not attempt to express supernatural things by human
inspiration, but wait for that till I reach heaven, if there is
painting done there.”
Art to her had been as the breath of life, and labor her greatest
delight. They continued to be so, even when, crowned with fame, she was
the centre of an admiring circle in the best society of Rome. Zucchi,
in the hope of beguiling her from too assiduous application, purchased
a beautiful villa--Castle Gandolfo--for their residence; but Angelica
could not bear to be long distant from Rome. Strangers who came to the
city were soon attracted to pay their respects to the lovely artist;
and in the companionship of the great and gifted, either in her own
circle, or with friends like Klopstock and Gessner--who have highly
praised her genius--she exercised an influence that did not fail to
promote the growth of literary and artistic cultivation.
De Rossi says: “It was interesting to see Angelica and her husband
before a picture. While Zucchi spoke with enthusiasm, Angelica remained
silent, fixing her eloquent glance on the finest portions of the work.
In her countenance one could read her feelings, and her observations
were always limited to a few brief words. These, however, seldom
expressed any blame; only the praises of that which was worthy of
praise. It belonged to her nature to be struck by the beautiful alone,
as the bee draws only honey out of every flower.”
Raphael Mengs pronounced upon her a flattering eulogium. “As an
artist,” he says, “she is the pride of the female sex in all times and
all nations. Nothing is wanting; composition, coloring, fancy, all are
here.” But he was her friend, and wrote thus while the recollection of
her charms and virtues were fresh in his memory.
Fuseli, who was honored by her friendship, was a more severe judge.
He says, he “has no wish to contradict those who make success the
standard of genius, and, as their heroine equals the greatest names
in the first, suppose her on a level with them in power. She pleased,
and desired to please, the age in which she lived and the race for
which she wrought. The Germans, with as much patriotism, at least, as
judgment, have styled her the Paintress of Minds (Seelen Mahlerin);
nor can this be wondered at for a nation who, in A. R. Mengs, flatter
themselves that they possess an artist equal to Raphael.
“The male and female characters of Angelica never vary in form,
feature, or expression from the favorite ideal in her own mind. Her
heroes are all the man to whom she thought she could have submitted,
though him, perhaps, she never found. Her heroines are herself, and,
while suavity of countenance and alluring graces shall be able to
divert the general eye from the sterner demands of character and
expression, can never fail to please.”
The lighter scenes of poetry were painted by her with a grace and
taste entirely her own, and happily formed, withal, to meet that of an
engraver, whose labors contributed to the growth and perpetuity of her
fame. This was Bartolozzi, whose talents were in great part devoted to
her.
One feels naturally desirous of knowing something about the personal
appearance of one so much admired. Her portrait, painted by herself,
the size of life, is in the Pitti Gallery at Florence, with that of
two other female artists; and the three attract the attention of every
visitor.
The following is the description of one spectator: “The first in
feature and expression bears the stamp of a masculine intellect; the
touch is vigorous, the coloring has the golden tint of the Venetian
school, but it presents no mark of individuality; this is Maria Robusti
Tintoretto. The second can not be mistaken; even the most unpracticed
eye would discern at a glance that it is a Frenchwoman--piquant,
lively, graceful, evidently not so much engrossed with her art as to be
insensible to admiration as a woman--this is the well-known Madame Le
Brun. Opposite the fair Parisian is a third portrait, a woman still in
the bloom of life, but destitute of all brilliancy of coloring, with an
expression grave and pensive almost to melancholy. She is seated on a
stone, in the midst of a solitary landscape, a portfolio with sketches
in one hand, a pencil in the other. The attitude is unstudied almost
to negligence. There is no attempt at display; you feel as you look on
her that every thought is absorbed in her vocation. This is Angelica
Kauffman.”
The quiet tenor of her life was broken up by the death of her husband
in 1795. This domestic calamity was followed by political events that
shook the world, and our artist suffered amid the universal agitation.
She was much disquieted by the invasion of Italy by the French, though
she found in her art both relief from care and a protection from the
dread of poverty. General L’Espinasse exempted the house in which she
lived from lodging soldiers, and offered her his services for her
security and protection. But no kindness could restore her lost energy
or bring back the cheerfulness that had once sustained her.
In 1802 Angelica was seized with illness, and on recovery was advised
to travel for the strengthening of both her bodily and mental
faculties, and for relief from the oppression of sadness that paralyzed
even her love of art. She visited Florence, Milan, and Como, where she
lingered with a melancholy pleasure amid the scenes of her youthful
days. In Venice she staid to visit the family of her deceased husband.
She then returned to Rome, where she was received by her friends with a
jubilant welcome.
Her time passed thenceforward in her accustomed employments, and the
society of those who loved her. Her health continued to decline, but
her intellect remained bright and vigorous to the period of her death
in November, 1807. Not long before she expired she requested her cousin
by signs to read to her one of Gellert’s spiritual odes. In the midst
of Italian life she was ever true to the German spirit; as, amid her
more than masculine labors, she preserved her gentle, womanly nature.
The news of her decease caused profound grief throughout Rome. All
the members of the Academy of St. Luke assisted at her funeral; and,
as at the obsequies of Raphael, her latest pictures were borne after
her bier. Her remains were placed in the Church of St. Andrew della
Fratte. Her bust was preserved in the Pantheon.
Her works are scattered all over Europe, and are to be found in Vienna,
Munich, London, Florence, Rome, Paris, etc.