THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
Mary Moser.--Nollekens’ House.--Skill in Flower-painting.--The
Fashions.--Queen Charlotte.--Patience Wright.--Birth
in New Jersey.--Quaker Parents.--Childish Taste for
Modeling.--Marriage.--Widowhood.--Wax-modeling.--Rivals
Madame Tussaud.--Residence in England.--Sympathy with America
in Rebellion.--Correspondence with Franklin.--Intelligence
conveyed.--Freedom of Speech to Majesty.--Franklin’s Postscript.--“The
Promethean Modeler.”--Letter to Jefferson.--Patriotism.--Art the
Fashion.--Aristocratic lady Artists.--Princesses Painting.--Lady
Beauclerk.--Walpole’s “Beauclerk Closet.”--Designs and Portrait.--Lady
Lucan.--Her Illustrations of Shakspeare.--Walpole’s Criticism.--Other
Works.--Mary Benwell and others.--Anna Smyters and others.--Madame
Prestel.--Mrs. Grace.--Mrs. Wright.--Flower-painters.--Catherine Read
and others.--Maria Cosway.--Peril in Infancy.--Lessons.--Resolution
to take the Veil.--Visit to London.--Marriage.--Cosway’s
Painting.--Vanity and Extravagance.--The beautiful Italian
Paintress.--Cosway’s Prudence and Management.--Brilliant
evening Receptions.--Aristocratic Friends.--The Epigram on the
Gate.--Splendid new House and Furniture.--Failing Health.--France
and Italy.--Institution at Lodi.--Singular Occurrence.--Death of
Cosway.--Return to Lodi.--Maria’s Style and Works.
MARY MOSER.
This lady, a member of the Royal Academy in London, is mentioned by the
biographers of Nollekens as “skillful in painting flowers, sarcastic
when she held the pen.” She liked to visit the illiterate Nollekens, at
whose house, with a cup of tea, she occasionally enjoyed the company of
Dr. Johnson. Smith does not hesitate to charge her with having set her
cap at Fuseli, “but his heart, unfortunately, had already been deeply
pierced by Angelica Kauffman.”
She was the daughter of a German artist in enameling, but was educated
in England. She was truly wonderful in flower-pieces. The tasteful
decorations of some new apartments in Windsor Palace were executed by
her hand.
While in London she wrote thus to her friend Mrs. Lloyd:
“Come to London and admire our plumes; we sweep the sky! A duchess
wears six feathers, a lady four, and every milkmaid one at each corner
of her cap! * * * Fashion is grown a monster; pray tell your operator
that your hair must measure just three quarters of a yard from the
extremity of one wing to the other.”
Queen Charlotte took particular notice of Miss Moser, and for a
considerable time employed her for the decoration of one chamber, which
her majesty commanded to be called Miss Moser’s room, and for which the
queen paid upward of nine hundred pounds.
PATIENCE WRIGHT.
This extraordinary woman, as Dunlap rightly calls her, was born, like
West, among a people who professed to eschew all that is imaginative
or pictorial. Her parents, who were Quakers, lived at Bordentown, New
Jersey, where Patience Lovell was born in 1725. Her uncommon talent for
imitation was shown long before she had an opportunity of seeing any
work of art. The dough meant for the oven, or the clay found near her
dwelling, supplied her with materials out of which she moulded figures
that bore a recognizable resemblance to human beings, and, ere long, to
the persons with whom she was most familiar.
She married Joseph Wright of Bordentown in 1748. He lived only nineteen
years. Before 1772 the lady had gained not a little celebrity in some
of the cities of the United States for her astonishing likenesses in
wax. A widow, with three children dependent on her for support, she was
obliged to seek a larger field for her efforts. The prospect of success
in London was good, and to London she went.
There is testimony in English journals of the day that her works
were thought extraordinary of their kind. She bade fair to rival
the famous Madame Tussaud. Her conversational powers and general
intelligence gained her the attention and friendship of several among
the distinguished men of the day. Though a resident of England, her
sympathies were engaged in behalf of her countrymen during the struggle
of the American Revolution. It is said she even rendered important
aid to the cause by sending to American officers intelligence of the
designs of the British government. She corresponded with Franklin while
he was in Paris; and as soon as a new general was appointed, or a
squadron began to be fitted out, he was sure to know it. She was often
able to gain information in families where she visited, and to transmit
to her American friends accounts of the number of British troops and
the places of their destination.
At one time she had frequent access to Buckingham House, and was
accustomed to express her sentiments freely to their majesties, who
were amused with her originality. The great Chatham honored her with
his visits, and she took the full-length likeness of him, which appears
in a glass case in Westminster Abbey.
The following is the postscript to one of Franklin’s letters, offering
service should she return to America through France:
“My grandson, whom you may remember when a little saucy boy at school,
being my amanuensis in writing the within letter, has been diverting
me with his remarks. He conceives that your figures can not be packed
up without damage from any thing you could fill the boxes with to
keep them steady. He supposes, therefore, that you must put them
into post-chaises, two and two, which will make a long train upon
the road, and be a very expensive conveyance; but, as they will eat
nothing at the inns, you may the better afford it. When they come to
Dover, he is sure, they are so like life and nature, that the master
of the packet will not receive them on board without passports. It
will require, he says, five or six of the long French stage-coaches to
convey them as passengers from Calais to Paris; and a ship with good
accommodations to convey them to America, where all the world will
wonder at your clemency to Lord N----, that, having it in your power to
hang or send him to the lighters, you had generously reprieved him for
transportation.”
Mrs. Wright was sometimes called “Sibylla,” as she professed to
foretell political events. In a London magazine of 1775 she is called
“the Promethean modeler,” with the remark: “In her very infancy she
discovered such a striking genius, and began making faces with new
bread and putty to such an extent that she was advised to try her skill
in wax.”
Her likenesses of the king, queen, Lord Temple, Lord Chatham, Barry,
Wilkes, and others, attracted universal attention. Critics gave her
credit for wonderful natural abilities, and said she would have been
a miracle if the advantages of a liberal education had fallen to her
lot. Noticing her quick and brilliant eyes, their glance was said to
“penetrate and dart through the person looked on.” She had a faculty of
distinguishing the characters and dispositions of her visitors, and was
rarely mistaken in her judgment of them.
Dunlap farther speaks of “an energetic wildness in her manner. While
conversing she was busy modeling, both hands being under her apron.”
Her eldest daughter married Mr. Platt, an American; she inherited some
of her mother’s talents. She became well known in New York about 1787
by her modeling in wax. The younger was the wife of Hoppner, the rival
of Stuart and Lawrence in portrait-painting. The young lady’s sweet
face may be recognized in some historical compositions. The British
Consul at Venice, mentioned by Moore in his Life of Byron, was the
grandson of Mrs. Wright.
Mrs. Wright lost favor with George III. by her earnest reproofs for his
sanction of the war with America. She went to Paris in 1781, but was
in London in 1785, when she wrote to Jefferson that she was delighted
that her son Joseph had painted the best likeness of Washington of any
painter in America. Washington himself said he “should think himself
happy to have his bust done by Mrs. Wright, whose uncommon talents,”
etc.
She wished not only to make a likeness of the hero, but of those
gentlemen who had assisted at signing the treaty of peace. “To shame
the English king,” she says, “I would go to any trouble and expense, to
add my mite to the stock of honor due to Adams, Jefferson, and others,
to send to America.” And she offered to go herself to Paris and mould
the likeness of Jefferson. She wished to consult him how best to honor
her country by holding up the likenesses of her eminent men, either in
painting or wax-work; and hinted at the danger of sending Washington’s
picture to London, from the enmity of the government and the espionage
of the police; the latter, she observes, having “all the folly, without
the ability, of the French.”
The exercise of artistic accomplishment was now so popular, that
culture in painting, drawing, and etching became general in the
education of young ladies. The fashion of patronizing the arts, too,
was in vogue among women of the highest rank. Lady Dorothea Saville
painted portraits and drew admirable sketches. Lady Louisa de Greville
and her sister Augusta were ardent connoisseurs. The Countess Lavinia
Spencer was celebrated for her skill in etching; and Lady Amherst, Lady
Temple, and Lady Henry Fitzgerald, were noted artists.
Two princesses of the royal family took pleasure in painting. Princess
Elizabeth drew with taste and skill. She engraved a “Birth of Love”
after Tomkins, and produced several original specimens of great beauty.
One of her fancy-pieces was “Cupid turned Volunteer,” which appeared,
in 1804, in a series of prints engraved with poetical illustrations.
The designs were beautiful. Three years later, a series of twenty-four
etchings by her royal highness was published. They evinced spirit and
taste, and a deep feeling for the beautiful.
Charlotte Matilda, afterward Queen of Wurtemberg, drew and painted
landscapes after the manner of Waterloo.
LADY DIANA BEAUCLERK.
Lady Diana Spencer, the wife of Topham Beauclerk, and the daughter
of the Duke of Marlborough, was celebrated as an amateur artist, and
produced drawings that gained the enthusiastic admiration of Walpole.
In 1776 he built a hexagonal tower, which he called “Beauclerk
Closet,” as it was constructed “purposely for the reception of seven
incomparable drawings by Lady Diana, illustrating scenes in his
‘Mysterious Mother.’” They were conceived and executed in a fortnight.
In 1796 the lady produced designs for a translation of Bürger’s ballad
of “Leonore,” by her nephew, published in folio the following year.
Lady Diana also finished a series of designs for a splendid edition of
Dryden’s Fables in folio. These show that she possessed an elegant and
fertile imagination, with a truly classic taste. In her portrait of the
Duchess of Devonshire, the nymph-like grace of the figure is like what
a Grecian sculptor would give to the form of a dryad or river-goddess.
She died in 1808, at the age of seventy-four.
MARGARET, COUNTESS OF LUCAN,
possessed a remarkable talent for copying miniatures and illuminations.
She completed a series of embellishments of Shakspeare’s historical
plays, in five folio volumes, now preserved in the library at Althorp.
For sixteen years she devoted herself to the pursuit, indulging in “the
pleasurable toil” of illustrating that great work. She commenced this
enterprise when fifty years of age, and ended it at sixty-six. Walpole
says: “Whatever of taste, beauty, and judgment in decoration, by means
of landscapes, flowers, birds, heraldic ornaments and devices, etc.,
could dress our immortal bard in a yet more fascinating form, has
been accomplished by a noble hand, which undertook a Herculean task,
and with a true delicacy and finish of execution that has been rarely
equaled.”
Lady Lucan also copied the most exquisite works of Isaac and Peter
Oliver, Hoskins, and Cooper; “with genius,” says her admiring friend,
“that almost depreciated those masters;” and “transferring the vigor of
Raphael to her copies in water-colors.” She died in 1815.
The Countess of Tott exhibited in 1804 her portrait of the famous
Elfi Bey. Lord Orford speaks of Mrs. Delany’s skill in painting
and imitating flowers with cuttings of colored paper. This lady is
mentioned by Madame d’Arblay, in her Diary, as the queen’s friend, the
wife of Patrick Delany, who was the intimate friend of Dean Swift.
Among a host of minor women artists may be mentioned Mary Benwell, who
painted portraits and miniatures in oil and crayons, exhibited from
1762 to 1783. She married Code, who was in the army, and purchased
rank for him. He was stationed at Gibraltar, where he died. Mrs. Code
retired from her profession in 1800. Miss Anna Ladd, skilled in the
same branch, died in 1770. Agatha van der Myn also painted flowers,
fruits, and birds in England.
Anna Smyters, the wife of a sculptor and architect, acquired celebrity
for her miniatures and water-color paintings. One, representing a
wind-mill with sails spread, a miller with his sack on his shoulder, a
carriage and horse, and a road leading to a village, was complete, of a
size so small that it could be covered by a grain of corn.
Miss Anna Jemima Provis was said to have made known to some English
artists the receipt for coloring used by the great Venetian masters. It
had been brought from Italy by her grandfather.
Mrs. Dards opened a new exhibition with flower-paintings, in the
richest colors. They were exact imitations of nature, done with
fish-bones.
Mrs. Hoadley, wife of the Bishop of Winchester, was well skilled
in painting. Caroline Watson was eminent in engraving. She was
born in London, 1760. Receiving instruction from her father, she
engraved several subjects in mezzotinto and in the dotted manner. Her
productions were said to possess great merit. Miss Hartley, who etched
admirably, preceded her.
Maria Catharine Prestel was the wife of a German painter and engraver.
She aided him in some of his best plates, particularly landscapes. The
marriage was not happy, and the pair separated. Madame Prestel came
to England in 1786, where she engraved prints in a style surpassed by
no artist for spirit and delicacy. She made etchings, and finished in
aquatinta in a fine picturesque manner. She died in London in 1794.
Mrs. Grace exhibited her works seven years in the Society of Artists.
They were chiefly portraits in oil, rather heavy in coloring. She
attempted a historical subject in 1767: Antigonus, Seleucus, and
Stratonice. Her residence was in London.
Mrs. Wright, the daughter of Mr. Guise--one of the gentlemen of his
majesty’s Chapel Royal at St. James’s, and master of the choristers
at Westminster--was a successful painter in miniature. She married,
unfortunately, a French emigrant, who shortly afterward left her, and
went to France, where he died. Her second husband was Mr. Wright, a
miniature-painter. She died in 1802.
Fiorillo also mentions Betty Langley, Miss Noel, Miss Linwood,
Miss Bell, Madame Beaurepas, and the eldest daughter of Smirke the
academician.
Walpole mentions Elizabeth Neal as a distinguished paintress, who went
to Holland. She painted flowers so admirably, that she was said to
rival the famous Zeghers.
Among English flower-painters should not be forgotten Miss Elizabeth
Blackwell, Miss Gray, Anna Ladd, Anna Lee, and Mary Lawrence, who
busied herself with a splendid work on roses--painting and engraving
the illustrations.
Catherine Read painted beautiful family scenes, and obtained
considerable reputation as a painter of portraits, both in oil and
crayon. A crayon, in the possession of a lady of New York, was
recognized as hers by an eminent American painter. She lived near
St. James’s, and frequently sent pieces to the exhibition. Several
mezzotint prints after her pictures were published. In 1770 she went to
the East Indies, staid a few years, and returned to England. Her niece,
Miss Beckson, also an artist, who went with her to the East Indies,
afterward married a baronet.
Some of Anna Trevingard’s pictures were engraved. Miss Drax and Miss
Martin engraved from Tomkins and Der Petit; Miss Morland and Catharine
Mary Fanshawe drew and engraved twenty pictures of historical scenes.
The zealous and industrious Mary Spilsbury’s studies from country life,
and particularly those in which she represented her rural scenes and
sports of children, have been reproduced in engravings.
It is certainly surprising that engraving and flower-painting did not
boast at this time a greater number of distinguished followers.
It now becomes our task to linger a moment over the history of a
paintress whose genius and attainments won for her an enviable
reputation, and whose life experience illustrates the condition and
circumstances of art amid the higher classes of English society.
MARIA COSWAY.
Maria Hadfield was the daughter of an Englishman who became rich
by keeping a hotel in Leghorn. It is said he lost four children in
infancy, and detected a maid-servant in the avowal that she sent them
to heaven out of love, and meant that the fifth, Maria, should follow
the rest. The woman was imprisoned for life, and the child was sent
to a convent to be educated. There she received lessons in music and
drawing, in common with other branches. Returning home, she devoted
herself to painting, and the acquaintance she afterward formed at Rome
with Battomi, Mengs, Maron, and Fuseli, with her contemplation of
the works of art in churches and palaces, contributed to the farther
development of her talents.
At her father’s death she formed the resolution of entering a cloister,
but her mother persuaded her to accompany her first to London. There
the young girl became acquainted with the interesting and popular
Angelica Kauffman, who easily prevailed on her to relinquish all idea
of taking the veil.
The change of resolution was followed not long afterward by Maria’s
marriage with Richard Cosway, a portrait and miniature painter, who
occupied a high position, and whose soft, pliant, and idealized style
was well adapted to please rich patrons whose vanity desired the most
favorable representation. In his carefully-finished miniatures the most
ordinary features were transformed into beauty, and pale, watery eyes
were made to sparkle with intellectual expression. This faculty of
beautifying rendered him the favorite of the wealthy and aristocratic.
He was, moreover, a member of the Academy, and had the honor of
being called a friend by the Prince of Wales, circumstances which
contributed still more to make him the “fashion.” But, unfortunately,
he had not good sense enough to wear these honors meekly. Vanity led
him into ridiculous extravagances. He dressed in the extreme of the
mode, and kept his servants costumed in the like absurd manner; he
gave expensive entertainments, and succeeded in drawing around him a
number of frivolous young sprigs of nobility, who would do him the
favor of drinking his Champagne and scattering his money at play, and
the next morning would amuse their “set” by laughing heartily over the
pretensions of the “parvenu.”
Such was the situation of Cosway when he fell in love with Maria
Hadfield, wooed, and won her, and took his wife to his magnificently
furnished house. Maria was very young, and, having come recently from
Italy, was inexpert both in the English language and English customs.
Her fashionable husband chose to keep her strictly isolated from all
society till she should learn to appear with dignity and grace in the
distinguished circles where he meant she should move.
Meanwhile he caused her to complete her artistic education, and to
practice on the lessons she received. Her miniatures soon gained such
appreciation that the highest praise was awarded to them of all that
appeared at the Royal Academy exhibitions. Maria was even pointed out
in the street as the successful artist. Then arrived the time when,
in Cosway’s opinion, she was fitted to become the central point of
attraction in his house for the brilliant society he loved.
Very soon the talk every where was of the young, beautiful, and gifted
Italian. Cosway’s receptions were crowded, and half the carriages at
his door contained sitters ambitious of the honor of being painted by
the hand of his lovely wife. Her portrait of the beautiful Duchess of
Devonshire in the character of Spenser’s Cynthia raised her to the
pinnacle of reputation.
Cosway, however, was too prudent, and, at the same time, too proud to
permit his wife to be esteemed a professional painter, for he knew
well that her productions would have greater value as the work of an
amateur. To be painted by her was thus represented and regarded as
a special favor; and costly presents were frequently added to the
customary payments for her pictures.
In another matter the husband was more indulgent. Maria was
passionately fond of music, and he permitted her to exercise her gift
of song at the brilliant companies invited to his magnificent abode.
This completed the enchantment. Visitors came in such numbers that the
house would scarcely contain them; and all who were fashionable, or
had any aristocratic pretensions, were sure to be found in Cosway’s
drawing-rooms. There would be the poet whose latest effusion was
the rage in high circles; the author of the last sensation-speech
in Parliament; any rising star in art, or any hero of a wonderful
adventure; in short, all the lions of London were gathered in that
place of resort, to see and to be seen, and, above all, to listen to
the charming Cosway. The Honorable Mrs. Damer, Lady Lyttleton, the
Countess of Aylesbury, Lady Cecilia Johnston, and the Marchioness of
Townshend, were Maria’s most intimate friends, and were usually present
to add splendor to her receptions; while among the men were General
Paoli, Lords Sandys and Erskine, and his royal highness the Prince
of Wales, the foreign embassadors being also invited upon special
occasions.
The mansion in Pall Mall was soon found too small to accommodate such
an influx of visitors, and to display its master’s works and finery. A
new one was taken in Oxford Street.
Several of Cosway’s biographers mention the fact that the figure of a
lion beside the entrance put it into some wag’s head to stick on the
door an epigram that had a severe point, as the foppish little painter
was “not much unlike a monkey in the face:”
“When a man to a fair for a show brings a lion,
’Tis usual a monkey the sign-post to tie on;
But here the old custom reversed is seen,
For the lion’s without, and the monkey’s within.”
The artist left the house in consequence of this foolish joke, and
fitted up another in the same street, with the magnificence of a fairy
palace. The author of “Nollekens and his Times” says:
“His new house he fitted up in so picturesque, and, indeed, so princely
a style, that I regret drawings were not made of the general appearance
of each apartment; for many of the rooms were more like scenes of
enchantment, penciled by a poet’s fancy, than any thing perhaps before
displayed in a domestic habitation. His furniture consisted of ancient
chairs, couches, and conversation-stools, elaborately carved and
gilt, and covered with the most costly Genoa velvets; escritoirs of
ebony, inlaid with mother-of-pearl; and rich caskets for antique gems,
exquisitely enameled, and adorned with onyxes, opals, rubies, and
emeralds. There were also cabinets of ivory, curiously wrought; mosaic
tables set with jasper, blood-stone, and lapis lazuli, having their
feet carved into the claws of lions and eagles; screens of old raised
Oriental Japan; massive musical clocks, richly chased with ormolu and
tortoise-shell; ottomans superbly damasked; Persian and other carpets,
with corresponding hearth-rugs, bordered with ancient family crests,
and armorial ensigns in the centre; and rich hangings of English
tapestry. The carved chimney-pieces were adorned with the choicest
bronzes, models in wax, and terra-cotta; the tables were covered with
old Sèvre, blue Mandarin, Nankin, and Dresden China; and the cabinets
were surmounted with crystal cups, adorned with the York and Lancaster
roses, which might probably have graced the splendid banquets of the
proud Wolsey.”
But splendor, fashionable position, success as an artist, and the
friendship of princes and nobles could not make Richard Cosway happy.
He saw the sneers lurking beneath the smiles of his aristocratic
guests, and he heard the rumor that he was accused by other artists
of using his talents to flatter the great, whose fleeting favor could
not, after all, confer upon him lasting reputation. Maria’s health,
too, began to fail; and, as the London climate was no longer endurable
for her, her husband took her to travel on the Continent. They went
to Paris and Flanders. One day, as they walked in the Gallery of the
Louvre, Cosway pointed to the naked wall, and said his cartoons would
look well in that place. He presented them to the French king, who
accepted and hung them up, giving the painter in return four splendid
pieces of Gobelin tapestry, which Cosway presented to the Prince of
Wales.
With improved health, Mrs. Cosway returned to England and resumed her
brilliant parties. But her spirits again failing, she accompanied her
brother to Italy, expecting her husband to join her.
Three years’ residence in that soft clime quite restored her health,
and she set out on her return to London. A new and terrible trial
awaited her there: she was called to mourn the death of her only
daughter.
Again she departed for France, and, after the breaking out of the war
between that country and England, pursued her journey to Italy. She
established at Lodi a college for the education of young ladies on a
plan she had arranged for a similar institution at Lyons.
On the establishment of peace she returned to England, and became the
tender nurse of her invalid husband, trying to solace the weary hours
which were passed in weakness and pain.
Upon Mrs. Cosway’s return, Smith informs us, “she had caused the body
of their departed child, which her husband had preserved in an embalmed
state within a marble sarcophagus that stood in the drawing-room of
his house in Stratford Place, to be conveyed to Bunhill row, where it
was interred, sending the sarcophagus to Mr. Nollekens, the sculptor,
to take care of for a time. It is a curious coincidence that the same
hour this sarcophagus was removed from Mr. Nolleken’s residence, Mr.
Cosway died in the carriage of his old friend, Miss Udney, who had
been accustomed, during his infirm state, occasionally to give him an
airing,” and had taken him out that morning, as the weather was fine.
Maria heard the sound of the returning wheels, and, hastening down
to receive her husband, found only his lifeless corpse. He had died
suddenly, upon a third and last attack of paralysis, July 4, 1821, at
the advanced age of eighty.
The widow returned to Lodi, where her ladies’ college was still
flourishing. The place was endeared to her by many happy memories, and
there she was loved and respected by a large circle of friends. She
died in 1821.
In her style Mrs. Cosway appears to have taken much from Flaxman and
Fuseli. In many of her works something fantastic is embodied, which is
associated with more of the wild and terrible than we usually find in
the creations of a mind at ease. No doubt her inconsolable grief for
the loss of her child was the cause of this unfeminine peculiarity. She
originated compositions from Virgil and Homer, as well as from Spenser
and Shakspeare.
The engraving from a portrait of Maria Cosway represents her in the
bloom of youth, with a profusion of light hair dressed after the
then prevailing mode. The fresh and delicate loveliness of the face
is most attractive, and there is a wonderful beauty in the large,
soft eyes, and the artless innocence that beams in their expression.
The celebrated Mrs. Cowley, in a letter to her, thus speaks of her
portrait: “If you can draw every body as justly as the fair Maria
Cosway, you will be the first portrait-painter in the kingdom.”
She painted a portrait of Madame Le Brun. One of her latest works was
a picture representing Madame Recamier as a guardian angel watching a
slumbering child. “The Winter’s Day,” in twelve pieces, was a series
by her, and she also published a book of drawings jointly with
Hopner. Her “Lama,” exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1788, showed a
female figure reclining by a stream; and the striking likeness to Mrs.
Fitzherbert caused no little sensation.
MADAME TUSSAUD.
Madame Tussaud’s famous wax-work collection was first opened in Paris
about 1770, by M. Courcius, her uncle. Though consisting then chiefly
of busts, with a few full-length figures, it attracted much attention
as a novelty; and Louis XVI. was wont to amuse himself by placing
living figures, costumed, among the wax ones. In 1802 Madame Tussaud
opened her exhibition in London; afterward visiting all the large towns
in Great Britain. Her rooms were large and splendidly decorated, and
her figures were magnificently dressed--some in their own royal robes,
with crowns, stars, orders, and regal finery. Among the historical
groups is one of Henry VIII. and his family. The exhibition is still
kept up in the largest saloon in Europe, more than forty persons being
kept constantly employed in the care of it.