THE ARTIST'S EARLY WORK
Mrs. Allingham, whose maiden name was Helen Paterson, was born on
September 26, 1848, near Burton-on-Trent, Derbyshire, where her father,
Alexander Henry Paterson, M.D., had a medical practice. As her name
implies, she is of Scottish descent on the paternal side. A year after
her birth her family removed to Altrincham in Cheshire, where her
father died suddenly, in 1862, of diphtheria, caught in attending a
patient.
This unforeseen blow broke up the Cheshire household, and the widow
shortly afterwards wended her way with her young family to Birmingham,
where the next few years, the most impressionable of our young artist's
life, were to be spent amid surroundings which at that date were in no
wise conducive to influencing her in the direction of Art of any kind.
Scribbling out of her head on any material she could lay hold of (not
even sparing the polished surfaces of the Victorian furniture) had
been her chief pleasure as a child; and as she grew older she drew
from Nature with interest and ease, especially during family visits
to Kenilworth and other country and seaside places. Some friends in
Birmingham started a drawing club which met each month at houses of
the different members, and the young student was kindly invited to
join it. Subjects were fixed upon and the drawings were shown and
discussed at each meeting. More good resulted from this than might
have been expected, for some of the members were not only persons of
taste but were collectors of fine examples in Art, which were also
seen and considered at the meetings. Helen Paterson, finding that
her pen-and-ink productions were more satisfactory than her colour
attempts, came to hope that she might gradually qualify herself for
book illustration, instead of earning a living by teaching, as she at
first anticipated her future would be.
Two influences greatly helped the girl in her artistic desires at this
time.
Helen Paterson's mother's sister, Laura Herford, had taken up Art as
a profession. Although her name does not often appear in Exhibition
records, the sisterhood of artists owe her a very enduring debt. For to
her was due that opening of the Royal Academy Schools to women to which
I have already referred, and which she obtained through another's slip
of the tongue, aided by a successful subterfuge.
Lord Lyndhurst, at a Royal Academy banquet, in singing the praises of
that institution, claimed that its schools offered free tuition to
_all_ Her Majesty's subjects. Within a few days he received from Miss
Herford a communication pointing out the inaccuracy of his statement,
inasmuch as tuition was only given to the male and not to the female
sex, which comprised the majority of Her Majesty's subjects. She
therefore appealed to him to use his influence with the Government to
obtain the removal of the restriction. He did so, and the Government,
on addressing Sir Charles Eastlake, the President of the Royal Academy,
found in him one altogether in sympathy with such a reform. He replied
to the Government that there was no _written_ law against the admission
of women, and after an interview with the lady he connived at a drawing
of hers being sent in as a test of her capability for admission as
a probationer, under the initials merely of her Christian names. A
few days subsequently a notification that he had passed the test and
obtained admission arrived at her home addressed to A. L. Herford, Esq.
There was of course a demonstration when the lady presented herself
in answer to the summons to execute a drawing in the presence of the
Keeper; and her claim to stay and do this was vehemently combated by
the Council, to whom it was of course referred. But the President
demonstrated the absurdity of the situation, and so strongly advocated
the untenability of the position that the door was opened once and for
all to female students. This lady, who had a strong character in many
other directions, constituted herself Art-adviser-in-chief to her young
niece from the time of her father's death.
The other influence under which Helen Paterson came at this critical
period was that of a capable and sympathetic master at Birmingham.
In Mr. Raimbach, the head of the Birmingham School of Design, she
encountered a man who was a teacher, born not made, and who, not
being hidebound with the old dry-as-dust traditions, saw and fostered
whatever gifts were to be found in his pupils. He it was who,
interesting himself in her desire to learn to draw the human figure,
and to study more of its anatomy than could be gained from the casts
of the School of Design and from the lifeless programme which existed
there, encouraged her to go to London for wider study, in the hope
of gaining entrance into the Academy Schools, and taking up Art as a
profession under her aunt's auspices.
She followed his advice, gave up a single pupil she had acquired, and
passed into the Academy Schools in April 1867 after a short preliminary
course at the Female School of Art, Queen's Square.
British Art may congratulate itself that in Helen Paterson's case, as
in that of so many others, "there's a divinity that shapes our ends,
rough-hew them how we will." It is very certain that had the fates
ordained that she should remain in Birmingham her talent would never
have flowed into the channel which has made possible a memoir of her
Art under the title of "Happy England." The environments of that great
city are such that it would have been practically impossible for her
artistic training to have been as her divinity decreed it should be,
or to place means of exercising it within her grasp should she have
desired them.
During the first year or two at the Royal Academy Helen Paterson worked
in the antique school, where the study of drawing, proportion of the
figure, with some anatomy, precluded the thought of painting. When
raised to the painting school she, like many another capable student
then as now, was at first driven hither and thither by the variety
of and apparently contradictory advice that she received from her
masters. For one month she was under a visitor with strongly defined
ideas in one direction, and the next under some one else who was
equally assertive in another, and it was some time before she could
strike a balance for her own understanding. But, for reasons which
those who know her well will recognise, she received help and kindness
from all, and, as she gratefully remembers, from none more than from
Millais, Frederick Leighton, Frederick Goodall, Fred Walker, Stacy
Marks, and John Pettie. Millais especially could in a minute or two
impart something which was never afterwards forgotten, whilst the
encouragement of all was most stimulating to a beginner. Another artist
who has been a life-long adviser and the kindest of friends, was Briton
Riviere, with whom and whose family an intimacy began even in her
student days. An invitation to stay with them at St. Andrews on the
coast of Fife in the summer of 1872 inaugurated Miss Paterson's first
serious work from Nature. The result was deemed to be satisfactory by
Mr. Riviere, who helped to dissipate a certain despondency and fear
which had sprung up in the young artist's mind as regards her colour
powers. It was not, however, in the grey houses and uninteresting
streets of this old northern university town, to which she first
turned, that the true relations between tone and colour discovered
themselves to her longing eye, but amongst the sandbanks, seaweed, and
blue water which fringe its noted golf-links. For the first time the
artist felt herself happy in attempting to work in any other medium
than black and white. Just prior to this fortunate visit she had in
the spring of the year been taken by an old friend of the family to
Rome, where she had worked assiduously at Nature, but with little
satisfaction so far as she herself was concerned.
She had by this time fully made up her mind to embark on a career in
which she was determined, and was in fact obliged, to earn a living;
and as her colour work at present had no market, there was nothing for
it but to procure a livelihood by black and white. Wood engraving,
although nearing the end of its existence, was still the only medium
of cheap illustration. Photography later on came to its aid to a
certain extent, but the majority of the original drawings continued to
be drawn directly on to the wood block. There were still close upon a
hundred wood engravers employed in London, working for the most part
under master engravers, into whose hands the publishers of magazines,
illustrated periodicals, and books entrusted, not only the cutting of
the block, but the selection of the artist to make the drawing upon it.
It was to these that Helen Paterson had to look for work, and it
was upon a round of their offices that in the autumn of 1869 she
diffidently started with a portfolio full of drawings. Employment did
not come at once, and the list of seventy names with which she started
had been considerably reduced before, to her great satisfaction, a
drawing out of her sheaf was taken by Mr. Joseph Swain, to whom she
had an introduction, for submission to the proprietors of _Once a
Week_. It was accepted, and she copied it on to the wood. Gradually she
obtained work for other magazines, including _Little Folks_, published
by Cassell, and _Aunt Judy_, by George Bell, the drawings for _Aunt
Judy_ illustrating Mrs. Ewing's _A Flat Iron for a Farthing_, _Jan of
the Windmill_, and _Six to Sixteen_.
The first alteration of any magnitude of the custom to which reference
has been made, namely, of the artist having to look to the engraver
for work, occurred when the _Graphic_ newspaper was started in the
year 1870. Mr. W. L. Thomas, to whom the credit of this improvement
in the status of the worker in black and white was due, was himself
an artist and a member of the Institute of Painters in Water Colours.
As such he was not only in touch with, but capable of appreciating
the unusual amount of budding talent of abundant promise which was
just then presenting itself. This he enlisted in the service of the
_Graphic_ upon what may be termed co-operative terms, for those who
liked could have half their payment in cash and half in shares in the
venture. Many, the majority we believe, unfortunately could not afford
the latter proposition. Unfortunately indeed, for the paper embarked
on a career which has yielded dividends, at times of over a hundred
per cent, and has kept the shares at a premium, which few companies in
existence can boast of. This phenomenal success was in a large measure
the result of the personal interest that was brought to bear upon
every department, and that every employé took in his share in it. The
illustrations, upon which success mainly depended, were not the product
of a formulated system, working in a groove, where blocks were served
out to artists as to a machine, without any regard to their fitness for
the particular piece of work. Artists of capacity, whose names are now
to be found amongst the most noted in the academic roll, were selected
for the particular illustration that suited them, and were well paid
for it. The public was not only astonished at, but grateful for, the
result, and showed their appreciation by at once placing the _Graphic_
in the high position which it deserved and has since enjoyed.
Helen Paterson was so fortunate as to be brought into touch with
Mr. Thomas shortly after the first appearance of the paper. She had
obtained some work from one Harrall, an engraver, with whom Mr. Thomas
had had business connections in the past, and it was at Harrall's
suggestion that she went to Mr. Thomas, who at once offered her a
place on the staff of the _Graphic_, a place which she retained until
her marriage in 1874. It was indeed a godsend to her, for it meant
not only regular work but handsome pay. Twelve guineas for a full,
and eight for a half page, and at least one of these a week, meant
not merely maintenance, but a reserve against that rainy day which,
fortunately, the subject of our memoir has never had to contend with.
The subjects which Miss Paterson was called upon to produce were of the
most diversified character, but all of them had figures as their main
feature. To properly limn these she had to employ regular models, but
she also enlisted the aid of her fellow-students, for she was still at
the Royal Academy, and her sketch-books of that time, of which she has
many, are full of studies of artists, no few of whom have since become
celebrated in the world of Art.
Looking through the pages of the _Graphic_ with the artist, it is
interesting to note the variety of episodes upon which Mr. Thomas
employed her. Her drawings were not always from her own sketches, being
at times from originals that had been sent to the paper in an embryo
condition necessitating entire revision, or from rapid notes by artists
sent to represent the paper at important functions. But on occasions
she was also deputed to attend at these, and in consequence underwent
some novel experiences for a young girl. A meeting at Mr. Gladstone's,
Fashions in the Park, Flower Shows at the Botanical Gardens, Archery
at the Toxophilite Society's,--these formed the lighter side of her
work, the more serious being the illustration of novels by novelists of
note. This was at the time a new feature in journalism. Amongst those
entrusted to her were _Innocent_, by Mrs. Oliphant, and _Ninety-Three_,
by Victor Hugo. For the murder trial in the former she had to visit
the Central Criminal Court, and through so doing was more accurate
than the authoress, who admittedly had not been there, and whose work
consequently showed several glaring mistakes, such as the prisoner
addressing the judge by name. She was also employed upon a novel of
Charles Reade's in conjunction with Mr. Luke Fildes and Mr. Henry
Woods. This she undertook with extreme diffidence, for Reade had sent
round a circular saying that he greatly disliked having his stories
illustrated at all; but as it had to be in this case, he begged to
notify that _he_ gave _situations_, whilst George Eliot and Anthony
Trollope only gave conversations, and he requested that good use should
be made of these situations. Meeting him some years afterwards, the
author paid her the compliment of saying he liked her illustration of
the heroine in his story the best of any.
Nor was Miss Paterson entirely dependent upon the _Graphic_, whose
illustrations, oftentimes given out in a hurry, had to be finished
within a period limited by hours. She was fortunate to be numbered
amongst the select few who worked for the _Cornhill_, for which she
was, through Mr. Swain's kind offices, asked to illustrate Hardy's _Far
from the Madding Crowd_, which was at first attributed to George Eliot.
The author was fairly complimentary as to the result, although he said
it was difficult for two minds to imagine scenes in the same light.
Later on she had the pleasant task of illustrating Miss Thackeray's
_Miss Angel_ in the same magazine. The drawing of Sir Joshua Reynolds
asking Angelica to marry him, perhaps the best of the series, was one
of the first to be signed with the name of Allingham, by which she has
since been known.
A very interesting acquaintance with Sir Henry Irving, which has lasted
ever since, was commenced in the early seventies through her having to
visit the Lyceum for the _Graphic_ to delineate him and Miss Isabel
Bateman in _Richelieu_. Mr. Bateman, who was then the manager, placed
a box at her disposal, which she occupied for several nights whilst
making the drawing. One of the cottage drawings reproduced here (Plate
77) belongs to Sir Henry.
Although working regularly and almost continuously at black and white
during these years she managed to intersperse it with some work in
colour, and at the exhibitions of the old Dudley Gallery Art Society,
which had been recently founded, and which had proved a great boon to
rising and amateur art, she exhibited water-colours under the title of
"May," "Dangerous Ground," and "Soldiers' Orphans watching a bloodless
battle at Aldershot," painted in the studio from a _Graphic_ drawing.
In the autumn of the year 1874 Miss Paterson was married to Mr. William
Allingham, the well-known poet, editor of _Fraser's Magazine_, and
friend of so many of the celebrities in literature, science, and art of
the middle of the last century, amongst whom may be mentioned Carlyle,
Ruskin, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Browning, and Tennyson. It was to be
near the first named that the newly married couple went to reside in
Trafalgar Square, Chelsea, where they passed the next seven years of
their married life, namely until 1881.
To Carlyle Mrs. Allingham had the privilege of frequent and familiar
access during his last years; and when he found that he was not
expected to pose to her, and that she had, as he emphatically declared,
a real talent for portraiture (the only form of pictorial art in which
he took any interest), he became very kind and complaisant, and she
was able to make nearly a dozen portraits of him in water-colours.
An early one, which he declared made him "look like an old fool,"
was painted in the little back garden of No. 5 Cheyne Row, which was
not without shade and greenery in the summer time. There, in company
with his pet cat "Tib," and a Paisley churchwarden ("no pipe good
for anything," according to him, "being get-at-able in England"),
he indulged in smoking, the only creature comfort that afforded him
any satisfaction. In these portraits he is depicted sitting in his
comfortable dressing-gown faded to a dim slaty grey, refusing to wear
a gorgeous oriental garment that his admirers had presented to him.
An etching of one of these drawings appeared in the _Art Journal_ for
1882. Other portraits were painted in the winter of 1878-79, in his
long drawing-room with its three windows looking out into the street.
Rossetti she never saw, although he had been an intimate friend of
her husband's for twenty years[5] and was then living in Chelsea, for
he was just entering on that unfortunate epoch preceding his death,
when he was induced to cut himself adrift from all his old circle
of acquaintances. The fact is regrettable, for it would have been
interesting to note his opinion of a lady's work with which he must
have been in full sympathy.
Mr. Allingham had known Ruskin for many years. His wife's acquaintance
began in interesting fashion at the Old Water-Colour Society's. She
happened to be there during the Exhibition of 1877 at a time when the
room was almost empty. Mr. Ruskin had been looking at her drawing of
Carlyle, and introducing himself, asked her why she had painted Carlyle
like a lamb, when he ought to be painted like a lion, as he was, and
whether she would paint the sage as such for him? To this she had to
reply that she could only paint him as she saw him, which was certainly
not in leonine garb. One afternoon soon afterwards, Mr. Allingham
chanced to meet Ruskin at Carlyle's, and brought him round to see her
work. She was at the time engaged on the drawing of "The Clothes-Line"
(Plate 11), and he objected to the scarlet of the handkerchief, and
also to the woman, who he said ought to have been a rough workwoman,
an opinion which Mrs. Allingham did not share with him at the time,
but which she has since felt to be a correct one. He also saw another
drawing with a grey sky, and asked her why she did not make her skies
blue. To her reply that she thought there was often great beauty in
grey skies, he growled, "The devil sends grey skies."
Browning, an old friend of her husband's, Mrs. Allingham sometimes had
the privilege of seeing during her residence in London. One occasion
was typical of the man. He had been asked to come and see her work,
which was at the time arranged at one end of a room at Trafalgar
Square, Chelsea, before sending in to the Exhibition. The drawings were
naturally small ones, and Browning appeared to be altogether oblivious
to their existence. Turning round, with his back to them, he at once
commenced a story of some one who came to see an artist's work, and the
artist was very huffed because his visitor never took the slightest
notice of his pictures, but talked to him of other subjects all the
time. This, Browning considered, was no sufficient ground for his
huffiness. His obliviousness to Mrs. Allingham's drawings may have been
due to his having been accustomed to the pictures of his son, which
were of large size, and in comparison with which Mrs. Allingham's would
be quite invisible. Against this theory, however, I may mention that on
one occasion I happened to have the good fortune to be present in his
son's studio when Tennyson was announced. Browning at once advanced to
the door to meet him, bent low, and addressed him as "Magister Meus,"
and although the Laureate had come to see the paintings, and stayed
some time, neither of the two poets, so long as I was present, noticed
them in any way.
Whilst Mrs. Allingham was painting Carlyle, Browning came to see him,
and they held a most interesting and delightful conversation on the
subject of the great French writers. The alteration in Browning's
demeanour from his usual bluff and breezy manner to a quiet,
deferential tone during the conversation was very notable.
Of her intimacy with Tennyson I may speak later when we come to the
drawings which illustrate his two houses in Sussex and the Isle of
Wight.
The year of her marriage was also a landmark in Mrs. Allingham's
career, through the Royal Academy accepting and hanging two
water-colours, one entitled "The Milkmaid," the other, "Wait for Me,"
the subject of the latter being a young lady entering a cottage whilst
a dog watched her outside the gate. It would have been interesting to
have been able to insert a reproduction of either of these in this
volume, for they would probably have shown that her fear as to her
inability to master colour was entirely without basis, but I have not
been able to trace them. The drawings were not only well hung, but were
sold during the Exhibition.
It was, however, by another drawing that Mrs. Allingham won her name.
In the year 1875 she was commissioned by Mr. George Bell to make a
water-colour from one of the black-and-white drawings which she had
done some years before for Mrs. Ewing's _A Flat Iron for a Farthing_.
We shall have occasion to describe at length, later on, this delightful
little picture that is reproduced in Plate 8. It is only necessary for
our purpose here to state that it was seen early in 1875 by that prince
of landscape water-colourists, Mr. Alfred Hunt.
He was an old friend of Mr. Allingham's, and being told that his wife
was thinking of trying for election at the Royal Society of Painters in
Water Colours, kindly offered to go through her portfolios. The From
these he made a selection, and promised to propose her at an election
which was about to take place. The result fully proved the soundness
of his choice, for the candidate not only secured the rare distinction
of being elected on the first time of asking, but the still rarer one
of securing her place in that body, so notable for its diversity of
opinion when candidates are in question, with hardly a dissentient vote.
Ladies were not admitted to the rank of full members of the Society
until the year 1890, when she was, to her great pleasure and
astonishment, elected a full member. She deserved it; for much of the
charm of these exhibitions had been due to the presence of the work
which she has contributed to every Exhibition held since her election
save two, one of these rare absences being due to her having mistaken
the date for sending in.
This election, and the fact that after her marriage she could afford to
do without the monetary aid derived from black-and-white work, decided
her to embark upon water-colours; although in these she still confined
her work to figure subjects, more than one of which continued to be
founded on her previous work in monochrome.
The last book in which her name as an illustrator appeared was,
appropriately enough, _Rhymes for the Young Folk_, by her husband,
published in _Cassell's_ in 1885, to which she contributed most of
the illustrations. She relinquished black-and-white work without any
regret, for although she was much indebted to it, it never held her
sympathies, and she always longed to express herself in colour, the
medium in which she instinctively felt she had ultimately the best
chance of success.
Although we are only separated from the Chelsea of Mrs. Allingham's
days by little more than a quarter of a century, its artistic
associations were then of a very different order to those that are
in evidence nowadays. The era of vast studios in which duchesses and
millionaires find adequate surroundings for their portraits was not
yet. Whistler was close to old Chelsea Church, a few doors only from
where he recently died. Tite Street, with which his name will always be
connected, was not yet built. He was still engaged on those remarkable,
but at that time insufficiently appreciated, canvases of scenes which
have now passed away, such as "Fireworks at Cremorne," and "Nocturnes"
dimly disclosing old Battersea Bridge. Seymour Haden was etching the
picturesque façade of the Walk, with his brother-in-law's house as a
principal object in it, and without the respectable embankment which
now makes it more reputable from a hygienic, but less admirable from
an artistic point of view. Rossetti was practically the only other
artist of note in the quarter. But with one exception Mrs. Allingham's
work was not reminiscent of the place. That exception, however,
disclosed to her a field in which she foresaw much delight and abundant
possibilities. In the old Pensioners' Garden at Chelsea Hospital were
to be found tenderly-cared-for borders of humble flowers. The garden
itself was a haven of repose for the old warriors, and a show-place for
their visitors. Mrs. Allingham, like another artist, Hubert Herkomer,
about the same time, was touched by the pathos of the surroundings,
and, chiefly on the urgency of her husband, she ventured on a drawing
of more importance than any hitherto attempted. The subject, which we
shall speak of again later, was finished in 1877, and was the first
large drawing exhibited by her at the Society of Painters in Water
Colours.
Painters--good, bad, and indifferent--of the garden are nowadays such
a numerous body that one is apt to forget that the time is quite
recent when to paint one with its flowers was a new departure. It is
nevertheless the fact, and in taking it up, especially those that
are associated with the humbler type of cottages, Mrs. Allingham
was practically the originator of a new subject. To the pensioners'
patches at Chelsea we are indebted for the sweet portraits of humble
flower-steads which are now cherished by so many a fortunate possessor,
and charm every beholder. Thus Chelsea aroused a desire to attack
gardens possessing greater possibilities than a town-stunted patch, a
desire that was not, however, gratified until two years later when,
during a visit in the spring of 1879 to Shere, the first of many
cottages and flowers was painted from nature.
In 1881, after the death of Carlyle, Chelsea had attractions for
neither husband nor wife, and with a young family growing up and
calling for larger and healthier quarters, the house in Trafalgar
Square was given up for one at Witley in Surrey, a hamlet close to
Haslemere, which she had visited the year before, and in the midst
of a country which Birket Foster had already done much to popularise,
having resided at a beautiful house there for many years.
* * * * *
The water-colours of this first period, namely from 1875 to 1880, that
are reproduced here, are the following:--
[Illustration:
8. THE YOUNG CUSTOMERS
_From the Water-colour in the possession of Miss Bell._
Painted 1875.]
The drawing by which, as we have said, Mrs. Allingham made her name,
obtained election at the Society of Painters in Water Colours, was
represented at her first appearance there in 1875, and also at
the Paris Exposition in 1878, and through which she obtained the
recognition of Ruskin, who thus wrote concerning it in the _Notes_
which he was at that time in the habit of compiling each year on the
Summer Exhibitions.
It happens curiously that the only drawing of which the memory remains
with me as a possession out of the Old Water-Colour Exhibition of this
year--Mrs. Allingham's "Young Customers"--should not only be by an
accomplished designer of woodcuts, but itself the illustration of a
popular story. The drawing, with whatever temporary purpose executed,
is for ever lovely--a thing which I believe Gainsborough would have
given one of his own paintings for, old fashioned as red-tipped
daisies are, and more precious than rubies.
Later on, in 1883, in his lectures at Oxford on Mrs. Allingham he again
referred to it as "The drawing which some years ago riveted, and ever
since has retained the public admiration--the two deliberate housewives
in their village toyshop, bent on domestic utilities and economies,
and proud in the acquisition of two flat irons for a farthing--has
become, and rightly, a classic picture, which will have its place
among the memorable things in the Art of our time, when many of its
loudly-trumpeted magnificences are remembered no more."
The black-and-white drawing on which it was founded, a somewhat thin
and immature performance, was one of twelve illustrations made by Mrs.
Allingham for Mrs. Ewing's _A Flat Iron for a Farthing_,[6] where it
appears as illustrating the following episode. It will be seen that
Mrs. Allingham's version of the story differs in many points from that
of the authoress, which is thus told by Reginald, the only son:--
As I looked, there came down the hill a fine, large, sleek donkey,
led by an old man-servant, and having on its back what is called a
Spanish saddle, in which two little girls sat side by side, the whole
party jogging quietly along at a foot's pace in the sunshine. I was
so overwhelmed and impressed by the loveliness of these two children,
and by their quaint, queenly little ways, that time has not dimmed one
line in the picture that they then made upon my mind. I can see them
now as clearly as I saw them then, as I stood at the tinsmith's door
in the High Street of Oakford--let me see, how many years ago?
The child who looked the older, but was, as I afterwards discovered,
the younger of the two, was also the less pretty. And yet she had
a sweet little face, hair like spun gold, and blue-grey eyes with
dark lashes. She wore a grey frock of some warm material, below
which peeped her indoors dress of blue. The outer coat had a quaint
cape like a coachman's, which was relieved by a broad white crimped
frill round her throat. Her legs were cased in knitted gaiters of
white wool, and her hands in the most comical miniatures of gloves.
On her fairy head she wore a large bonnet of grey beaver, with a
frill inside. But it was her sister who shone on my young eyes like
a fairy vision. She looked too delicate, too brilliant, too utterly
lovely, for anywhere but fairyland. She ought to have been kept in
tissue-paper, like the loveliest of wax dolls. Her hair was the true
flaxen, the very fairest of the fair. The purity and vividness of the
tints of red and white in her face I have never seen equalled. Her
eyes were of speedwell blue, and looked as if they were meant to be
always more or less brimming with tears. To say the truth, her face
had not half the character which gave force to that of the other
little damsel, but a certain helplessness about it gave it a peculiar
charm. She was dressed exactly like the other, with one exception--her
bonnet was of white beaver, and she became it like a queen.
At the tinsmith's shop they stopped, and the old man-servant, after
unbuckling a strap which seemed to support them in their saddle,
lifted each little miss in turn to the ground. Once on the pavement
the little lady of the grey beaver shook herself out, and proceeded
to straighten the disarranged overcoat of her companion, and then,
taking her by the hand, the two clambered up the step into the shop.
The tinsmith's shop boasted of two seats, and on to one of these she
of the grey beaver with some difficulty climbed. The eyes of the other
were fast filling with tears, when from her lofty perch the sister
caught sight of the man-servant, who stood in the doorway, and she
beckoned him with a wave of her tiny finger.
"Lift her up, if you please," she said on his approach. And the other
child was placed on the other chair.
The shopman appeared to know them, and though he smiled, he said very
respectfully, "What articles can I show you this morning, ladies?"
The fairy-like creature in the white beaver, who had been fumbling
in her miniature glove, now timidly laid a farthing on the counter,
and then turning her back for very shyness on the shopman, raised one
small shoulder, and inclining her head towards it, gave an appealing
glance at her sister out of the pale-blue eyes. That little lady, thus
appealed to, firmly placed another farthing on the board, and said in
the tiniest but most decided of voices,
"TWO FLAT IRONS, IF YOU PLEASE."
Hereupon the shopman produced a drawer from below the counter, and
set it before them. What it contained I was not tall enough to see,
but out of it he took several flat irons of triangular shape, and
apparently made of pewter, or some alloy of tin. These the grey beaver
examined and tried upon a corner of her cape, with inimitable gravity
and importance. At last she selected two, and keeping one for herself,
gave the other to her sister.
"Is it a nice one?" the little white-beavered lady inquired.
"Very nice."
"Kite as nice as yours?" she persisted.
"Just the same," said the other firmly. And having glanced at the
counter to see that the farthings were both duly deposited, she rolled
abruptly over on her seat, and scrambled off backwards, a manœuvre
which the other child accomplished with more difficulty. The coats and
capes were then put tidy as before, and the two went out of the shop
together, hand in hand.
Then the old man-servant lifted them into the Spanish saddle,
and buckled the strap, and away they went up the steep street, and
over the brow of the hill, where trees and palings began to show, the
beaver bonnets nodding together in consultation over the flat irons.
The commission to paint this water-colour being unfettered in every
way, the artist felt herself at liberty to create a colour scheme
of her own--hence the changes in the dresses, etc.; also to put an
old woman (after a Devonshire cottager) in place of the shopman, and
to make the shop a toyshop instead of a tinsmith's. The little girl
ironing was painted from a study of a Mr. Hennessy's eldest little
daughter; the fair little maiden from Mr. Briton Riviere's eldest
daughter.
[Illustration:
9. THE SAND-MARTINS' HAUNT
_From the Water-colour in the possession of Miss James._
Painted 1876.]
I passed an inland cliff precipitate;
From tiny caves peeped many a soot-black poll.
In each a mother-martin sat elate,
And of the news delivered her small soul:
"Gossip, how wags the world?" "Well, gossip, well."
Interesting not only as the earliest example here of Mrs. Allingham's
landscape work, having been painted at Limpsfield, Surrey, in May
1876, and as such full of promise of better things to come, but as an
instance of a preference for a complex and very difficult effect, which
the artist, on obtaining greater experience, very wisely abandoned.
There is little doubt that she was tempted by the glorious wealth of
colouring which a low sun threw upon the warm quarry side, the pine
wood, and the huge cumuli which banked them up--a magnificent but a
fleeting effect, which could only be placed on record from very rapid
notes. The result could be successful only in the hands of a practised
adept, and it is not surprising, therefore, that in those of an artist
just embarking on her career it was not entirely so. The difficulties
of the task may have afforded her a useful lesson, for we have seen no
further attempts on her part at their repetition.
If the landscape foretells little concerning the future of the artist,
the figures standing on the brink of the quarry, the elder with her
arm placed lovingly and protectingly round the neck of the younger,
whilst they watch the martins rejoicing in the warm summer evening, are
eminently suggestive of the success which Mrs. Allingham was to achieve
in the addition of figures to landscape composition.
[Illustration:
10. THE OLD MEN'S GARDENS, CHELSEA HOSPITAL
_From the Water-colour in the possession of Mr. Charles Churchill._
Painted 1876.]
Contemporary criticism is not, as a rule, palatable to an artist, for
amongst the varied views which the art critics bring to their task
there are always to be found some that are not seen from the same
standpoint as his. Besides, for some occult reason, the balance always
trends in the direction of fault-finding rather than praise, probably
because it is so much the easier, for work always has and will have
imperfections that are not difficult to distinguish. But in the case
of the water-colour before us the critics' chorus must have been very
exhilarating to the young artist, especially as, at the time of its
exhibition at the Royal Water-Colour Society, in the spring of 1877,
she was by no means in good health. The _Spectator_, for instance,
wrote that artists would have to look to their laurels when ladies
began to paint in a manner little inferior to Walker. The _Athenæum_
gave it the exceptional length of a column, considering it "one of the
few pictures by which the exhibition in question would be remembered."
Tom Taylor in the _Times_ wrote as follows:--
Of all the newly associated figure painters there is none whose
work has more of the rare quality that inspires interest than Mrs.
Allingham. She has only two drawings here, a pretty little child's
head and a large and exquisitely finished composition, "The Old Men's
Gardens, Chelsea Hospital," where some hundred and forty little garden
plots are parcelled out among as many of the old pensioners, each of
whom is free to follow his own fancies in his gardening.
In the hush of a calm summer evening, two graceful girls in white
dresses accept a nosegay from one of the veterans, a Guardsman of
the _vieille cour_, by his look and bearing. All around are plots
of sweet, bright flowers all aglow with variegated petals. Here and
there under the shade of the old trees sit restful groups of the old
veterans, with children about them; one little fellow reverentially
lifts and examines one of the medals on a war-worn breast. Behind, the
thickly-clothed fronds of a drooping ash spread to the declining sun,
and the level roofs of the old Hospital rise ruddy against the warm
and cloudless sky. No praise can be too high for the exquisiteness
with which the flowers are drawn, coloured, and combined, or for the
skill with which they are blended into an artistic whole with the
suggestive and graceful group in the foreground. The drawing deserves
to take its place as a pendant of Walker's "Haven of Rest."
It is curious that all the critics seem to have misinterpreted
the main meaning of the artist's motive, namely, that whilst the
Pensioners naturally, in the first place, wish to sell their posies,
they are always ready to give them to those who cannot afford to buy.
The well-to-do ladies are purchasing the flowers, the little group of
mother, boy, and baby, on the right, who can ill afford to buy, are
having a posy graciously offered to them. The drawing represented Mrs.
Allingham at the Jubilee Exhibition in Manchester, 1887, and the Loan
Water-Colour Exhibition at the Guildhall, London, in 1896. It is of the
large size, for this artist's work, of 25 inches by 15 inches.
[Illustration:
11. THE CLOTHES-LINE
_From the Water-colour in the possession of Miss James._
Painted 1879.]
How considerable and rapid an advance now took place in Mrs.
Allingham's powers may be seen from the two drawings which are dated
two years later, namely, in 1879. In figure draftsmanship there is no
comparison between the timid and haltingly painted children of "The
Sand-Martins' Haunt" and the seated baby in "The Clothes-Line." In
the first the capacity to draw was no doubt present, but the power to
express it through the medium of water-colour was as yet unacquired.
But after two years' study, knowledge is present in its fulness,
and from now onwards the only changes in Mrs. Allingham's work are
a greater precision, breadth, facility of handling, and harmony of
colour. The figure of the woman still smacks somewhat too much of
the studio, and she is a lady-like model,[7] certainly not the type
one would expect to see hanging out the washing of such a clearly
limited and humble wardrobe as in this case. The figure again detaches
itself too much from the rest of the picture, and Mrs. Allingham,
we are sure, would now never introduce such a jarring note as the
scarlet and primrose handkerchief, to which Mr. Ruskin objected at
the time it was painted. The blanket, clothes-line, clothes-basket,
and other accessories are painted with a minuteness which was an
admirable prelude to the breadth that was to follow; but are
singularly constrained in comparison with the yellow gorse bushes, most
difficult of any shrubs to limn, but which here are noteworthy for
unusual easiness of touch. Even with these qualifications the picture
is a delightful one, replete with grace and beauty, and complete in
its portrayal of the little incident of the baby, a less robust little
body than Mrs. Allingham would now paint, capturing as many of the
clothes-pegs that her mother needs as her small fingers and arms can
embrace.
[Illustration:
12. THE CONVALESCENT
_From the Water-colour in the possession of Mr. R. S. Budgett._
Painted 1879.]
This, like "The Young Customers," was founded on previous work, namely,
a black-and-white drawing made for the _Graphic_, as an illustration to
Mrs. Oliphant's _Innocent_. But in the story the patient dies from an
over-dose administered in mistake by Innocent, who is nursing her. Some
years afterwards the poisoning comes to light, and Innocent is tried
and acquitted. Mrs. Allingham would never have voluntarily repeated
such a subject as this, and her temperament is shown in her having
utilised the material for one in which refreshing sleep promises a
speedy recovery.
[Illustration:
13. THE GOAT CARRIAGE
_From the Water-colour in the possession of Sir F. Wigan._
Painted 1880.]
Painted at Broadstairs, and containing portraits of Mrs. Allingham's
children. Noticeable as being one of a few drawings where the artist
has introduced animals of any size into her compositions, but showing
that, had she minded, she might have animated her landscapes with them
with as conspicuous success as she has with her human figures. Perhaps
an incident which happened whilst this picture was being painted
deterred her. Billy being tied up so as to keep him in somewhat the
same position, managed to gnaw through his rope, and, irate at his
detention, he made for the lady to whom he thought his captivity was
due, and nearly upset her, paintbox, and picture. The exhibition of
this and kindred portraits of her children under such titles as "The
Young Artist" and "The Donkey Ride," led to strangers wishing for
portraits of their offspring under similar winsome conditions.
But Mrs. Allingham never cared for the restraint imposed by portrait
painting, and the few that she did in this manner were undertaken more
from friendship than from pleasure.
[Illustration:
14. THE CLOTHES-BASKET
_From the Water-colour the property of Mr. C. P. Johnson._
Painted 1880.]
It is very seldom that Mrs. Allingham has treated her public to
drawings with low horizons or sunsets, perhaps for the reason that
little of her life has been spent away in the flatter counties, where
the latter are so noticeable and full of charm and beauty. This
water-colour, the first large landscape that the artist exhibited, was
painted from studies made in the Isle of Thanet, whilst staying at
Broadstairs.
[Illustration:
15. IN THE HAYLOFT
_From the Water-colour the property of Miss Bell._
Painted 1880.]
This is practically the last of the water-colours which were the
outcome of earlier pictures executed in black and white for the
illustration of books.
The story is from _Deborah's Drawer_, by Eleanor Grace O'Reilly, for
which, as Helen Paterson, our artist had made nine drawings in 1870,
at a time when she was so inexperienced in drawing on the wood that in
more than one instance her monogram appears turned the wrong way. Mr.
Bell, the publisher of the book, subsequently commissioned her to make
a companion water-colour to "The Young Customers," and suggested one of
the illustrations called "Ralph's Girls" as the basis for a subject.
The little black-robed girls were twins, whose mother had recently
died, and who had been placed under the care of a grandmother, who
forgot their youth and spirits. They were imaginative children, and
indulged in delightfully original games. One (that of personating a
sportsman named Jenkins and a dog called Tubbs, who together went
partridge-shooting through a big field of cabbages laden with dew)
they had just been taking part in. Tired out with it, they decided
to be themselves again, and to mount to the hayloft and play another
favourite game, that of "remembering." This meant taking them back
over their short lives, which ended up with their most recent
remembrance, their mother's death. Whilst talking over this they are
summoned from their retreat, and have to appear with their black
dresses soaked with the dew from the cabbages, and with hay adhering
everywhere to their deep crape trimmings. Hence much penance!
[Illustration:
16. THE RABBIT HUTCH
_From the Drawing the property of Mr. C. P. Johnson._
Painted 1880.]
Painted in London, but from sketches made near Broadstairs, the house
seen over the wall being one of those that are to be found along the
east coast, which bear a decided evidence of Dutch influence in their
architecture. Here again we have evidence that Mrs. Allingham might,
had she been so minded, have succeeded with animals as well as she has
with human figures and landscape. A little play is being enacted; the
dog, evidently a rival of the inhabitants of the hutch, has to be kept
at a distance while their feeding is going on, lest his jealousy might
find an outlet in an onslaught upon them.
[Illustration:
17. THE DONKEY RIDE
_From the Water-colour in the possession of Sir James Kitson, Bart.,
M.P._
Painted 1880.]
This drawing was executed just at the turning of the ways, when London
was to be exchanged for country life, and studio for out-of-door
painting. What an increased power came about through the change will
be seen by a comparison between this "Donkey Ride" and the "Children's
Tea" (Plate 23). Only two years separate them in date; but whilst
in the one we have timidity and hesitancy, in the other the end
is practically assured. In "The Donkey Ride" we have evidences of
experiments, especially in the direction of finicking stippling (all
over the sea and sky) and of the use of body-colour (in the baby's
bonnet and the flowers), which were abandoned later on, to the artist's
exceeding great benefit. What we expect to find, and do find, is the
pure sentiment, and the dainty freshness, which is never absent from
the earliest efforts onwards.
The scene is the cliffs near Broadstairs, Mrs. Allingham's two eldest
children occupying the panniers.