columns and arches of the picturesque ruin belong to a much later
period in history than the birth of Christ. Dürer was not acquainted
with any earlier style of architecture than the Romanesque and
therefore he used it here. "The ruin serves as a stable. A roof of
board is built out in front of the side-room which shelters the ox and
ass, and under this lean-to lies the new born babe surrounded by
angels who express their childish joy. Mary kneels and contemplates
her child with glad emotion. Joseph, also deeply moved, kneels down on
the other side of the child, outside the shelter of the roof. Some
shepherds to whom the angel, who is still seen hovering in the air,
has announced the tidings, are already entering from without the
walls." (Knackfuss). The picture is the central panel of an
altar-piece now in the Old Pinakothek at Munich. Dürer's oil painting
of the four apostles--John, Peter, Mark, and Paul--is in the same
gallery. Other Dürer pictures are: "The Knight, Death and the Devil,"
"The Adoration of the Magi," "Melancholy," and portraits of himself.
XIV
MARIANO FORTUNY
(Pronounced Mah-ree-ah-no' For-tu'ne)
_Spanish School_
1838-1874
_Pupil of Claudio Lorenzalez_
Fortuny won his own opportunities. He took a prize, while still very
young, which made it possible for him to go to Rome where he wished to
study art. He did not spend his time studying and copying the old
masters as did most artists who went there, but, instead, he studied
the life of the Roman streets.
He had already been at the Academy of Barcelona, but he did not follow
his first master; instead, he struck out a line of art for
himself. After a year in Rome the artist went to war; but he did not
go to fight men, he was still fighting fate, and his weapon was his
sketch book. He went with General Prim, and he filled his book with
warlike scenes and the brilliant skies of Morocco. From that time his
work was inspired by his Moorish experiences.
After going to war without becoming a soldier, Fortuny returned to
Paris and there he became fast friends with Meissonier, so that a good
deal of his work was influenced by that artist's genius. After a time
Fortuny's paintings came into great vogue and far-off Americans began
buying them, as well as Europeans. There was a certain rich dry-goods
merchant in the United States who had made a large fortune for those
days, and while he knew nothing about art, he wanted to spend his
money for fine things. So he employed people who did understand the
matter to buy for him many pictures whose excellence he, himself,
could not understand, but which were to become a fine possession for
succeeding generations. This was about 1860, and this man,
A.T. Stewart, bought two of Fortuny's pictures at high prices. "The
Serpent Charmer," and "A Fantasy of Morocco."
When Fortuny was thirty years old he married the daughter of a
Spaniard called Madrazo, director of the Royal Museum. His wife's
family had several well known artists in it, and the marriage was a
very happy one. Because of this, Fortuny was inspired to paint one of
the greatest of his pictures, "The Spanish Marriage." In it are to be
seen the portraits of his wife and his friend Regnault. After a time
he went to live in Granada; but he could never forget the beautiful,
barbaric scenes in Morocco, and so he returned there. Afterward he
went with his wife to live in Rome, and there they had a fine home and
everything exquisite about them, while fortune and favour showered
upon them; but he fell ill with Roman fever, because of working in the
open air, and he died while he was comparatively a young man.
PLATE--THE SPANISH MARRIAGE
Fortuny is said to "split the light into a thousand particles, till
his pictures sparkle like jewels and are as brilliant as a
kaleidoscope.... He set the fashion for a class of pictures, filled
with silks and satins, bric-à-brac and elegant trifling."
Look at the brilliant scene in this picture! The priest rising from
his chair and leaning over the table is watching the bridegroom sign
his name. This chap is an old fop, bedecked in lilac satin, while the
bride is a dainty young woman, without much interest in her husband,
for she is fingering her beautiful fan and gossiping with one of her
girl friends. She wears orange-blossoms in her black hair and is in
full bridal array. One couple, two men, sit on an elegantly carved
seat and are looking at the goings-on with amusement, while an old
gentleman sits quite apart, disgusted with the whole unimpressive
scene. Everybody is trifling, and no one is serious for the
occasion. The furnishings of the room are beautiful, delicate, almost
frivolous. People are strewn about like flowers, and the whole effect
is airy and inconsequent. Fortuny painted also "The Praying Arab," "A
Fantasy of Morocco," "Snake Charmers," "Camels at Rest," etc.
XV
THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH
_English School_
1727-1788
_Pupil of Gravelot and of Hayman_
There seems to have been no artist, with the extraordinary exceptions
of Dürer and Leonardo, who learned his lessons while at school. Little
painters have uniformly begun as bad spellers.
Gainsborough's father was in the business of woolen-crape making,
while his mother painted flowers, very nicely, and it was she who
taught the small Thomas. There were nine little Gainsboroughs and,
shocking to relate, the artist of the family was so ready with his
pencil that when he was ten years old he forged his father's name to a
note which he took to the schoolmaster, and thereby gained himself a
holiday. There is no account of any other wicked use to which he put
his talent. It is said that he could copy any writing that he saw, and
his ready pencil covered all his copy-books with sketches of his
schoolmasters. It was thought better for him finally to follow his own
ideas of education, namely, to roam the woodlands and make beautiful
pictures.
His father's heart was not softened till one day little Gainsborough
brought home a sketch of the orchard into which the head of a man had
thrust itself, painted with great ability. This man was a poacher, and
father Gainsborough recognised him by the portrait. There seemed to be
utility in art of this kind, and before long the boy found himself
apprenticed to a silversmith.
Through the silversmith the artist got admission to an art school and
began his studies; but his master was a dissolute fellow, and before
long the pupil left him.
Gainsborough was born in the town of Sudbury on the River Stour, the
same which inspired another great painter half a century
later. Gainsborough is best known by his portraits, in particular as
the inventor of "the Gainsborough hat," but he was first of all a
truly great landscape painter, and learned his art as Constable did
after him, along the beautiful shores of the river that flowed past
his native town.
The old Black Horse Inn is still to be seen, and it was in the orchard
behind it that he studied nature, the same in which he made the first
of his famous portraits, that of the poacher. It is known to this day
as the portrait of "Tom Pear-tree." That picture was copied on a piece
of wood cut into the shape of a man, and it is in the possession of
Mr. Jackson, who lent it for the exhibition of Gainsborough's work
held at the Grosvenor Gallery, in 1885.
While Thomas was with his first master, by no means a good companion
for a lad of fifteen, he lived a busy, self-respecting life, since he
was devoted to his home and to his parents. Only three years after he
set out to learn his art he married a young lady of Sudbury. The pair
were by no means rich, Gainsborough having only eighteen years of
experience in this world, besides his brush, and a maker of
woolen-crape shrouds for a father--who was not over pleased to have an
artist for a son. The lady had two hundred pounds but this did not
promise a very luxurious living, so they took a house for six pounds a
year, at Ipswich. Thus the two young lovers began their life
together. There was a good deal of romance in the story of his wife,
whose name was supposed to be Margaret Burr. The two hundred pounds
that helped to pay the Ipswich rent did not come from the man accepted
as her father, but from her real father, who was either the Duke of
Bedford, or an exiled prince. This would seem to be just the sort of
story that should surround a great painter and his affairs.
While he lived at Ipswich Gainsborough used to say of himself that he
was "chiefly in the face-way" meaning that for the most part he made
portraits. He loved best to paint the scenes of his boyhood, as
Constable afterward did, but he soon found there was more money in
portraits, and so he decided to go to live in Bath, the fashionable
resort of English people in that day, where he was likely to find rich
folk who wanted to see themselves on canvas. He settled down there
with his wife, whom he loved dearly, and his two daughters and at once
began to make money. It is said he painted five hours a day and all
the rest of the time studied music. As the theatre was Corot's
greatest happiness, so did music most delight Gainsborough, and he
could play well on nearly every known instrument; he became so
excellent a musician that he even gave concerts. He had the most
delightful people about him, people who loved art and who appreciated
him, and then there were the other people who paid for having
themselves painted. Altogether it was an ideal situation.
His studio was in the place known as the "Circus" at Bath, and people
came and went all day, for it became the fashionable resort for all
the fine folks.
From five guineas for half length portraits, he soon raised his price
to forty; he had charged eight for full length portraits, but now they
went for one hundred. He painted some famous men of the time. The very
thought is inspiring of such a company of geniuses with Gainsborough
in the centre of the group. He painted Laurence Sterne, who wrote "The
Sentimental Journey," and a few other delightful things; also Garrick,
the renowned actor.
Even the encyclopædia reads thrillingly upon this subject and one can
afford to quote it, with the feeling that the quotation will be read:
"His house harboured Italian, German, French and English musicians. He
haunted the green room of Palmer's Theatre, and painted gratuitously
the portraits of many of the actors. He gave away his sketches and
landscapes to any one who had taste or assurance enough to ask for
them." This sounds royal and exciting.
After that Gainsborough went up to London with plenty of money and
plenty of confidence and instead of six pounds a year for his house,
he paid three hundred pounds, which suggests much more comfort.
There were two other great painters of the time in London, Sir
Benjamin West--an American, by the way--and Sir Joshua Reynolds. West
was court favourite, but Gainsborough too was called upon to paint
royalty, and share West's honours. Reynolds was the favourite of the
town, but he too had to divide honours with Gainsborough when the
latter painted Richard Brinsley Sheridan, Edmund Burke and Sir William
Blackstone.
Notwithstanding, his landscapes, for which he should have been most
famous, did not sell. Everybody approved of them, but it is said they
were returned to him till they "stood ranged in long lines from his
hall to his painting room" Gainsborough was a member of the Royal
Academy and also a true Bohemian. He cared little for elegant society,
but made his friends among men of genius of all sorts. He was very
handsome and impulsive, tall and fair, and generous in his ways; but
he had much sorrow on account of one of his daughters, Mary, who
married Fischer, a hautboy player, against her father's wishes. The
girl became demented--at least she had spells of madness.
When Mary Gainsborough married, her father wrote the following letter
to his sister, which shows that he was a man of tender feeling for
those whom he truly loved:
" ... I had not the least suspicion of the attachment being so long
and deeply seated; and as it was too late for me to alter anything
without being the cause of total unhappiness on both sides, my
consent ... I needs must give ... and accordingly they were married
last Monday and settled for the present in a ready-furnished little
house in Curzon Street, Mayfair ... I can't say I have any reason to
doubt the man's honesty or goodness of heart, as I never heard anyone
speak anything amiss of him, and as to his oddities and temper, she
must learn to like them as she likes his person ... Peggy has been
very unhappy about it, but I endeavour to comfort her." Peggy was his
wife.
The abominable Fischer died twenty-years before Mary did--she lived to
be an old, old woman.
Among those whom Gainsborough loved best was the man called Wiltshire
who carried his pictures to and from London. He was a public "carrier"
but would never take any money for his services to the artist, because
he loved his work. All he asked was "a little picture"--and he got so
many of these, given in purest affection, that he might have gone out
of business as a carrier, had he chosen to sell them. Four of those
little pictures are now very great ones worth thousands of pounds and
known everywhere to fame. They are "The Parish Clerk," "Portrait of
Quin," "A Landscape with Cattle," and "The Harvest Waggon."
We have a good many stories of Gainsborough's bad manners. The artists
of his day tried to treat him with every consideration, but in return
he treated them very badly, especially Sir Joshua Reynolds. Reynolds,
who was then President of the Academy greatly admired Gainsborough but
the latter would not return Sir Joshua's call, and when Reynolds asked
him to paint his portrait for him, Gainsborough undertook it
thanklessly. Sir Joshua left town for Bath for a time, and when he
returned he tried to learn how soon the portrait would be finished,
but Gainsborough would not even reply to his inquiry. There seems to
have been no reason for this behaviour unless it was jealousy, but it
made a most uncomfortable situation between fellow artists.
Gainsborough has told some not very pleasing stories about himself,
but one of them shows us what a knack he had for seeing the comic side
of things, and perhaps for seeing comedy where it never existed. Upon
one occasion he was invited to a friend's house where the family were
in the habit of assembling for prayers, and he had no sooner got
inside, than he began to fear he should laugh, when prayer time came,
at the chaplain. In a rush of shyness he fled, leaving his host to
look for him, till he stumbled over a servant who said that
Mr. Gainsborough had charged him to say he had gone to breakfast at
Salisbury. Even respect for the customs of others could not make him
control himself.
It was through his intimacy with King George's family that his quarrel
with the Royal Academy came about. He had painted the three
princesses--the Princess Royal, Princesses Augusta and Elizabeth, and
these were to be hung at a certain height in Carlton House, but when
he sent the first to the Academy he asked it to be specially hung and
his request was refused. Then he sent a note as follows:
"He begs pardon for giving them so much trouble, but he has painted
the picture of the princesses in so tender a light that,
notwithstanding he approves very much of the established line for
strong effects, he cannot possibly consent to have it placed higher
than eight feet and a half, because the likeness and the work of the
picture will not be seen any higher, therefore at a word he will not
trouble the gentlemen against their inclination, but will beg the best
of his pictures back again." Immediately, the Academy returned his
pictures, although it would seem that they might better have
accommodated Gainsborough than have lost such a fine exhibition. He
never again would send anything to them.
He was inclined to be irritated by inartistic points in his sitters,
and is said to have muttered when he was painting the portrait of
Mrs. Siddons, the great actress: "Damn your nose madam; there is no
end to it." The nose in question must have been an "eyesore" to more
than Gainsborough, for a famous critic is said to have declared that
"Mrs. Siddons, with all her beauty was a kind of female Johnson ...
her nose was not too long for nothing."
Notwithstanding that his landscapes were not popular, he used to go
off into the country to indulge his taste for painting them, and once
he wrote to a friend that he meant to mount "all the Lakes at the next
Exhibition in the great style, and you know, if people don't like
them, it's only jumping into one of the deepest of them from off a
wooded island and my reputation will be fixed forever." An old lady,
whose guest he was, down in the country, told how he was "gay, very
gay, and good looking, creating a great sensation, in a rich suit of
drab with laced ruffles and cocked hat."
One of the boys he saw in the country he delighted to paint, and he
also grew so much attached to him that he took him to London and kept
him with him as his own son. That boy's name was Jack Hill and he did
not care for city life, nor maybe for Gainsborough's eccentricities,
so he ran away. He was found again and again, till one day he got away
for good, and never came back.
All his later life Gainsborough was happy. His daughter, who had
married Fischer, the hautboy-player, came back home to live, and her
disorder was not bad enough to prevent her being a cause of great
happiness to her father. The other daughter never married.
Gainsborough says that he spent a thousand pounds a year, but he also
gave to everybody who asked of him, and to many who asked nothing, so
that he must have made a great deal of money during his lifetime, by
his art. It is said that the "Boy at the Stile" was bestowed on
Colonel Hamilton for his fine playing of a solo on the violin. A lady
who had done the artist some trifling service received twenty drawings
as a reward, which she pasted on the walls of her rooms without the
slightest idea of their value.
Gainsborough got up early in the morning, but did not work more than
five hours. He liked his friends, his music, and his wife, and spent
much time with them. He was witty, and while he sketched pictures in
the evening, with his wife and daughters at his side, he kept them
laughing with his droll sayings.
The last days of Gainsborough showed him to be a hero. He died of
cancer, and some time before he knew what his disease was he must have
suffered a great deal. There is a story that is very pathetic of a
dinner with his friends, Beaumont and Sheridan. Usually, he was the
gayest of the gay, but of late all his friends had noticed that gaiety
came to him with effort. Upon the night of this dinner, Sheridan had
been his wittiest, and had tried his hardest to make Gainsborough
cheer up, till finally, the artist, finding it impossible to get out
of his sad mood, asked Sheridan if he would leave the table and speak
with him alone. The two friends went out together. "Now don't laugh,
but listen," Gainsborough said; "I shall soon die. I know it; I feel
it. I have less time to live than my looks infer, but I do not fear
death. What oppresses my mind is this: I have many acquaintances, few
friends; and as I wish to have one worthy man to accompany me to the
grave, I am desirous of bespeaking you. Will you come? Aye or no!" At
that Sheridan, who was greatly shocked, tried to cheer him, but
Gainsborough would not return to the table, till he got the promise,
which of course Sheridan made.
It was not very long after this that a famous trial took place--that
of Warren Hastings. It was in Westminster Hall, and Gainsborough went
to listen several times. On the last occasion, he became so interested
in what was happening that he did not notice a window open at his
back. After a little he said to a friend that he "felt something
inexpressibly cold" touch his neck. On his return home he told of the
strange feeling to his wife. Then he sent for a doctor, and there was
found a little swelling. The doctor said it was not serious and that
when the weather grew warmer it would disappear; but all the while
Gainsborough felt certain that it would mean his death. A short time
after that he told his sister that he knew himself to have a cancer,
and that was true.
When he felt that he must die, he fell to thinking of many things in
the past, and wished to right certain mistakes of his behaviour as far
as possible.
He sent to Sir Joshua Reynolds and asked him to come and see him,
since he could not go to see Sir Joshua. Reynolds went and then
Gainsborough told him of his regret that he had shown so much ill-will
and jealousy toward so great and worthy a rival. Reynolds was very
generous and tried to make Gainsborough understand that all was
forgiven and forgotten. He left his brother artist much relieved and
happier, and he afterward said: "The impression on my mind was that
his regret at losing life was principally the regret of leaving his
art." As Reynolds left the dying man's room, Gainsborough called after
him: "We are all going to heaven--and Van Dyck is of the company."
He was buried in Kew Churchyard and the ceremonies were followed by
Reynolds and five of the Royal Academicians, who forgot all
Gainsborough's eccentricities of conduct toward them in their honest
grief over his death. He was one of the first three dozen original
members of the Royal Academy.
PLATE--PORTRAIT OF MRS. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN
This picture is now in the collection of Lord Rothschild,
London. Mrs. Sheridan was the loveliest lady of her time. She was the
daughter of Thomas Linley, and a singer.
She came from a home which was called "a nest of nightingales,"
because all in it were musicians. The father had a large family and
made up his mind to become the best musician of his time in his
locality in order to support them. He was successful, and in turn most
of his children became musicians. His lovely daughter, Eliza
(Mrs. Sheridan), he bound to himself as an apprentice and taught her
till she was twenty-one, insisting that she "serve out her time" to
him, that she might become a perfect singer. The story of this
beautiful lady seems to belong to the story of Gainsborough's portrait
and shall be told here.
When she was a very little girl, no more than eight years old, she was
so beautiful that as she stood at the door of the pump room in Bath to
sell tickets for her father's concerts, everyone bought them from
her. When she was a very young woman her father engaged her to marry a
Mr. Long, sixty years old. She did not seem to mind what arrangements
her father made for her, but continued to sing and attend to her
business, till after the wedding gowns were all made and everything
ready for the marriage, when she happened to meet the brilliant
Richard Brinsley Sheridan, whose plays were so fashionable, and she
fell deeply in love with him. She told Mr. Long she would not marry
him, and without much objection he gave her up, but her father was
very angry and he threatened to sue Mr. Long for letting his daughter
go. Then the beautiful lady ran away to Calais and married
Mr. Sheridan without her father's permission; but she came home again
and said nothing of what she had done, kept on singing and helping her
father earn money for his family. One day, Mr. Sheridan was wounded in
a duel which he had fought with one of his wife's admirers, and when
she heard the news she screamed, "my husband, my husband," so that
everybody knew she was married to the fascinating playwright. Sheridan
for some reason did not at once come and get her, nor arrange for them
to have a home together. For a good while she continued to sing; and
once hearing her in oratorio, Sheridan fell in love with his wife all
over again. He took her from her home and would never let her sing
again in public. They remarried publicly and went to live in
London. He was not at all a rich and famous man at that time--only a
poor law-student--but he would not let his wife make the fortune she
might easily have made, by singing.