MRS. ALLINGHAM AND HER CONTEMPORARIES
That a true artist is always individual, and that his work is always
affected by some one or other of his predecessors or contemporaries,
would appear to be a paradox: nevertheless it is a proposition that
few will dispute. Art has been practised for too long a period, and by
too many talented professors, for entirely novel views or treatments
of Nature to be possible, and whilst an artist may be entirely unaware
that he has imbibed anything from others, it is certain that if he has
had eyes to see he must have done so.
I have already stated that Mrs. Allingham's work, whether in subject or
execution, is, so far as she is aware, entirely her own, and it would,
perhaps, be quite sufficient were I to leave the matter after having
placed that assertion on record. To go farther may perhaps lay oneself
open to the charge, _qui s'excuse s'accuse_. I trust not, and that I
may be deemed to be only doing my duty if I deal at some length with
comparisons that have been made between her work and that of certain
other artists.
The two names with whose productions those of Mrs. Allingham are most
frequently linked are Frederick Walker and Birket Foster: the first in
connection with her figures, the latter with her cottage subjects.
As regards these two artists it must be remembered that both their and
her early employment lay in the same direction, namely, that of book
illustration, and therefore each started with somewhat similar methods
of execution and subject, varied only by leanings towards the style of
any work they came in contact with, or by their own individuality.
That both had much in common is well known; in fact, Mrs. Allingham
used to tell Mr. Foster that she considered him, as did others, the
father of Walker and Pinwell.
In the case of Frederick Walker, his career was at its most interesting
phase whilst Mrs. Allingham was a student. Her first visit to the Royal
Academy was probably in 1868, when his "Vagrants" was exhibited, to
be followed in 1869 by "The Old Gate," in 1870 by "The Plough," and in
1872 by "The Harbour of Refuge."
It must not be forgotten that the name of Frederick Walker was at this
time in every one's mouth, that is, every one who could be deemed to be
included in the small Art world of those days. The painter visitors to
the Academy schools sang his praises to the students, and he himself
fascinated and charmed them with his boyish and graceful presence. As
Mrs. Allingham says, everybody in the schools "adored" him and his
work, and on the opening of the Academy doors on the first Monday in
May the students rushed to his picture first of all.
To contradict a dictum of Walker's in those days was the rankest heresy
in a student. Mrs. Allingham remembers an occasion when a painter was
holding forth on the right methods of water-colour work, asserting
that the paper should be put flat down on a table, as was the custom
with the old men, and the colour should be laid on in washes and left
to dry with edges, and if Walker taught any other method he was wrong.
Mrs. Allingham and her fellow-students were furious at their hero being
possibly in fault, and asked for the opinion of an Academician. His
reply was: "And _who_ is Mr. ----, and how does _he_ paint that _he_
should lay down the law? If Walker _is_ all wrong with his methods, he
paints like an angel."
Mrs. Allingham's confession of faith is this: "I _was_ influenced,
doubtless, by his work. I adored it, but I never consciously copied
it. It revealed to me certain beauties and aspects of Nature, as du
Maurier's had done, and as North's and others have since done, and
then I saw like things for myself in Nature, and painted them, I truly
think, in my own way--not the best way, I dare say, but in the only way
_I_ could."
Those, therefore, who discover not the reflection but the inspiration
of Walker in the idyllic grace of Mrs. Allingham's figures, and in her
treatment of flowers, place her in a company which she readily accepts,
and is proud of.
But it is with Birket Foster that our artist's name has been more
intimately linked by the critics, some even going to the length of
asserting that without him there would have been no Mrs. Allingham.
Having had the pleasure of an intimacy with Birket Foster, which
extended to writing his biography (_Birket Foster: His Life and
Work_, Virtue and Co., 1890), I can emphatically assert that he never
held that opinion, but stated that she had struck out a line which
was entirely her own, and, as he generously added, "with much more
modernity in it than mine."
There are, however, so many similarities between their artistic careers
that I may be excused for dwelling on some of them, for they no doubt
unconsciously influenced not only the method of their work but the
subject of it.
Drawing in black and white on wood in each case formed the groundwork
of their education, and was only followed by colour at a subsequent
stage.
Both, having determined to support themselves, were fain to seek
out the engravers and obtain from them a livelihood. Birket Foster
at sixteen was fortunate enough to meet in Landells one who at once
recognised his capabilities, whilst Mrs. Allingham found a similar
friend in Joseph Swain. Again, book illustration was as much in vogue
in 1870 as it was in 1842; and by another coincidence both years
witnessed the birth of an illustrated weekly, for Birket Foster, in
1842, was employed upon the infant _Illustrated London News_, while
Mrs. Allingham was the only lady to whom Mr. Thomas allotted some of
the early work on the _Graphic_. Differences there were in their
opportunities, and these were not always in the lady's favour. Birket
Foster found in Landells a man who looked after his youngster's
education, and, convinced that Nature was his best mistress, sent
him to her with these instructions: "Now that work is slack in these
summer months, spend them in the fields; take your colours and copy
every detail of the scene as carefully as possible, especially trees
and foreground plants, and come up to me once a month and show me what
you have done." A splendid memory aided Foster in his studies all too
well, for he learnt to draw with such absolute fidelity every detail
that he required, that he never again required to go to Nature. That he
did so we know from his repeated visits to every part of Europe--visits
resulting in delightful work; but what the world saw was entirely
studio work, and this tended to a repetition which oftentimes marred
the entire satisfaction that one otherwise derived from his drawings.
Mrs. Allingham herself, although living close to and engaged on the
same subjects, never came across him painting out of doors, and only
once saw him note-book in hand.
Chance influenced the two careers also in another way, which might
have made any similarity between them altogether out of question. The
first commission to illustrate a book which Miss Paterson obtained
was a prose work, in which figures and household scenes entirely
predominated,--in fact, all her black-and-white work was of this homely
nature,--and for some years she had no call for the delineation of
landscape. With Foster it was not very different. It is true that his
first commission was _The Boys Spring and Summer Book_, in which he had
to draw the seasons, and to draw them afield. But this might not have
attracted him to landscape work, for his patron's next commission was
quite in another direction. I may be excused for referring to it at
length, for the little-known incident is of some interest now that the
actors in it have each achieved such world-wide reputations. Certain
of the young pre-Raphaelites, including Rossetti, Burne-Jones, and
Millais, had been entrusted with the illustration of _Evangeline_.
The result was a perfect staggerer to the publisher Bogue, who was
altogether unable to appreciate their revolutionary methods. "What
shall I do with them?" he was asked by the engraver to whom he showed
the blocks on which most elaborate designs had been most lovingly
drawn. "This," said Bogue, and wetting one of them he erased the
drawing with the sleeve of his coat, serving each in turn in the same
way.
After this drastic treatment the _Evangeline_ commission was handed
over to Birket Foster. It can be easily imagined with what trepidation
he, knowing these facts, approached and carried out his task, and his
delight when even the _Athenæum_ could say, "A more lovely book than
this has rarely been given to the public." The success of the work
was enormous. His career was apparently henceforth marked out as an
illustrator of verse in black and white, for his popularity continued
until it was not a question of giving him commissions, but of what book
there was for him to illustrate; and he used laughingly to say that
finally there was nothing left for him but Young's _Night Thoughts_ and
Pollok's _Course of Time_.[15]
Thus we see that Birket Foster's art work was for long confined to
subjects as to which he had no voice, but which certainly influenced
his art, and it says much for his temperament that throughout it
warranted the term "poetical." In like manner it is much to Mrs.
Allingham's credit that her prosaic start did not prevent the same
quality welling up and being always in evidence in her productions.
If I have not wearied the reader I would like to point out some further
coincidences in their careers which are of interest.
Birket Foster became a water-colourist through the chance that he
could not sell his oil-paintings, which consequently cumbered his
small working-room to such an extent that one night he cut them all
from their stretchers, rolled them up, and sneaking out, dropped them
over Blackfriars Bridge into the Thames; water-colours cost less to
produce and took up less space, so he adopted them. Mrs. Allingham
abandoned oils after a year or two's work in them at the Royal Academy
Schools, because she gradually became convinced that she could express
herself better in water-colours. But she considered that it was a great
advantage to have worked, even for the short time, in the stronger
medium. It was this practice in oils that made her for some time
(until, indeed, Walker's lessons to her at the Royal Academy) use a
good deal of body-colour.
Both artists aspired to obtain the highest rank which then, as now,
is open to the water-colourist, namely, membership of The Royal
Water-Colour Society, but whilst Birket Foster only attained it in
1860, in his thirty-fifth year, and at his second attempt, Mrs.
Allingham followed him in 1875, when only twenty-six, and at her first
essay. Both promptly at once gave up a remunerative income in black and
white, and having done so, never had cause to regret their decision.
The coincidences do not end even here, for both within a year or two of
their election found themselves, the one on the invitation of Mr. Hook,
R.A., the other, twenty years later, for reasons we have mentioned,
settled near the same village, Witley, in the heart of the country
which they have since identified with their names. Here the selection
of subjects from the same neighbourhood naturally brought their work
still closer together.
Both of them have been attracted to Venice; Mr. Foster again and again,
Mrs. Allingham only within the last year or two.
Lastly, few artists have been indulged with so many smiles and so few
frowns from the public for which they have catered. Birket Foster
considered that he had been almost pampered by the critics, and
Mrs. Allingham has never had the slightest cause to complain of her
treatment at their hands.
Having dwelt at such length upon the interesting concurrences in
their careers, I now pass on to a comparison of their methods of
work; and here there are many resemblances, but these are no doubt
due to the times in which they lived. Birket Foster found himself,
when he commenced, the pupil of a school which had some merits and
more demerits. Composition and drawing were still thought of, and
before a landscape artist presumed to pose as such, he had to study
the laws which governed the former, and to thoroughly imbue himself
with a knowledge of the anatomy of what he was about to depict.
Mrs. Allingham, as I have pointed out, was also fortunate enough to
commence her tuition before the fashion of undergoing this needful
apprenticeship died out. But Birket Foster came at the end of a time
when landscape was painted in the studio rather than in the field. He
went to Nature for suggestions, which he pencilled into note-books in
the most facile and learned manner, but content with this he made
his pictures under comfortable conditions at home. The fulness of
his career, too, came at a time when Art was booming, and the demand
for his work was such that he could not keep pace with it. It is not
surprising, therefore, that in the zenith of his fame his pictures
were, in the main, studio pictures, worked out with a marvellous
facility of invention, but nevertheless just lacking that vitality
which always pervades work done in the open air and before Nature.
Mrs. Allingham's work at the outset was very similar to this. For her
subject drawings she made elaborate preliminary studies from Nature
in colour, but the drawing itself was thought and carried out in the
house. Fortunately this method soon became unpalatable to her, and she
gradually came to work more and more directly from Nature, and when, at
Witley, she found her subjects at her doors, she discontinued once and
for ever her former method. Since then she has painted every drawing
on the spot during the months that it is feasible, leaving actual
completion for some time, to enable her to view her work with a fresh
eye, and to study at leisure the final details, such, for instance, as
where the figures shall be grouped, usually posing, for this purpose,
her models in the open air in her Hampstead garden. Her figures are,
however, sometimes culled from careful studies made in note-books,
of which she has an endless supply. Fastidious to a degree as to the
completeness of a drawing, she lingers long over the finishing touches,
for it is these which she considers make or mar the whole. Every sort
of contrivance she considers to be legitimate to bring about an effect,
save that of body-colour, which she holds in abhorrence; but the
knife, a hard brush, a pointed stick, a paint rag, and a sponge are in
constant request.
Mrs. Allingham is above all things a fair-weather painter. She has no
pleasure in the storm, whether of rain or wind. Maybe this avoidance
of the discomforts inseparable from a truthful portrayal of such
conditions indicates the femininity of her nature. Doubtless it
does. But is she to blame? Her work is framed upon the pleasure that
it affords her, and it is certain that the result is none the less
satisfactory because it only numbers the sunny hours and the halcyon
days.
I ought perhaps to have qualified the expression "sunny hours," for as
a rule she does not affect a sunshine which casts strong shadows, but
rather its condition when, through a thin veil of cloud, it suffuses
all Nature with an equable light, and allows local colour to be seen
at its best. In drawings which comprise any large amount of floral
detail, the leaves, in full sunshine, give off an amount of reflected
light that materially lessens the colour value of the flowers, and
prevents their being properly distinguished. Mr. Elgood, the painter
of flower-gardens _par excellence_, always observes this rule, not
only because the effect is so much more satisfactory on paper, but
because it is so much easier to paint under this aspect. As regards
sky treatment, both he and Mrs. Allingham, it will be noted, confine
themselves to the simplest sky effects, feeling that the main interest
lies on the ground, where the detail is amply sufficient to warrant
the accessories being kept as subservient as possible. For this reason
it is that the glories of sunrise and sunset have no place in Mrs.
Allingham's work, the hours round mid-day sufficing for her needs.
To the curiously minded concerning her palette, it may be said that
it is of the simplest character. Her paint-box is the smallest that
will hold her colours in moist cake form, of which none are used
save those which she considers to be permanent. It contains cobalt,
permanent yellow, aureolin, raw sienna, yellow ochre, cadmium, rose
madder, light red, and sepia. She now uses nothing save O.W. (old
water-colour) paper. Mrs. Allingham's method of laying on the colour
differs from that of Birket Foster, who painted wet and in small
touches. Her painting is on the dry side, letting her colours mingle on
the paper. As a small bystander once remarked concerning it, "You do
mess about a deal."
Mrs. Allingham has been a constant worker for upwards of a quarter of
a century, during which time, in addition to contributing to the Royal
Society, she has held seven Exhibitions at The Fine Art Society's, each
of them averaging some seventy numbers. She has, therefore, upon her
own calculation, put forth to the world nearly a thousand drawings. In
spite of this, they seldom appear in the sale-room, and when they do
they share with Birket Foster's work the unusual distinction of always
realising more than the artist received for them.
* * * * *
The illustrations which adorn this closing chapter have no connection
with its subject, but are not on that account altogether out of place;
for they are the only ones which are outside the title of the work,
two being from Ireland, and two from Venice, and they are associated
with two of the main incidents of the artist's life, namely, her
marriage, and her only art work abroad.
[Illustration:
78. A CABIN AT BALLYSHANNON
_From a Water-colour in the possession of the Artist._
Painted 1891.]
Ballyshannon is the birthplace of Mr. William Allingham, who married
Mrs. Allingham in 1874. It is situated in County Donegal, and was
described by him as "an odd, out-of-the way little town on the extreme
western verge of Europe; our next neighbours, sunset way, being
citizens of the great Republic, which indeed to our imagination seemed
little, if at all, farther off than England in the opposite direction.
Before it spreads a great ocean, behind stretches many an islanded
lake. On the south runs a wavy line of blue mountains, and on the
north, over green, rocky hills, rise peaks of a more distant range. The
trees hide in glens or cluster near the river; grey rocks and boulders
lie scattered about the windy pastures." Here Mr. Allingham was born
of the good old stock of one of Cromwell's settlers, and here he
lived until he was two-and-twenty. The drawing now reproduced was made
when Mrs. Allingham visited the place with his children after his death
in 1889. Many ruined cabins lie around; money is scarce in Donegal,
and each year the tenants become fewer, some emigrating, others who
have done so sending to their relations to join them. Better times are
indeed necessary if the country is not to become a desert.
[Illustration:
79. THE FAIRY BRIDGES
_From the Water-colour in the possession of the Artist._
Painted 1891.]
The Fairy Bridges--a series of natural arches, carved or shaken out of
the cliffs, in times long past, by the rollers of the Atlantic--are
within a walk of Ballyshannon, and were often visited by Mrs. Allingham
during her stay there. Three of them (there are five in all) are seen
in the drawing, and a quaint and mythological faith connects them with
Elfindom--a faith which every Irishman in the last generation imbibed
with his mother's milk, and which is not yet extinct in the lovely
crags and glens of Donegal.
The scene is introduced into two of Mr. Allingham's best-known songs;
in one, "The Fairies," thus--
Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
For fear of little men.
Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home,
They live in crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide foam.
The only land which separates the wind-swept Fairy Bridges from America
is the Slieve-League headland, whose wavy outline is seen in the
distance. It, too, finds a place in one of Mr. Allingham's songs, "The
Winding Banks of Erne: the Emigrant's Adieu to his Birthplace" (which
in ballad form is sung by Erin's children all the world over)--
Farewell to you, Kildenny lads, and them that pull an oar,
A lug-sail set, or haul a net, from the Point to Mullaghmore;
From Killikegs to bold Slieve-League, that ocean mountain steep,
Six hundred yards in air aloft, six hundred in the deep,
From Dorran to the Fairy Bridge, and round by Tullen Strand,
Level and long and white with waves, where gull and curlew stand,
Head out to sea, when on your lee the breakers you discern!
Adieu to all the billowy coast, and winding banks of Erne!
By a curious coincidence Mr. Allingham when here in "the eighties" sent
an "Invitation to a Painter"[16]--
O come hither! weeks together let us watch the big Atlantic,
Blue or purple, green or gurly, dark or shining, smooth or frantic;
but the first to come was his own wife.
[Illustration:
80. THE CHURCH OF STA. MARIA DELLA SALUTE, VENICE
_From the Water-colour in the possession of Mr. C. P. Johnson._
Painted 1901.]
Mrs. Allingham, after an absence of thirty-three years, visited Italy
again in 1901, in company with a fellow-artist, and the following
year the Exhibition of the Old Water-Colour Society was rendered
additionally interesting by a comparison of her rendering of Venice
with that of a fellow lady-member, Miss Clara Montalba, to whose
individuality in dealing with it we have before referred.
The drawing of Mrs. Allingham's here reproduced shows Venice in quite
an English aspect as regards weather. It is almost a grey day; it
certainly is a fresh one, and has nothing in common with one which
induces the spending of much time about in a gondola.
In selecting the Salute for one of her principal illustrations of
Venice, Mrs. Allingham has respectfully followed in the footsteps of
England's greatest landscapist, for Turner made it the main object in
his great effort of the Grand Canal, and there are few of the craft who
have failed to limn it again and again in their story of Venice.
But whilst most people are disposed to regard it as one of the most
beautiful features of the city, the church has fallen under the ban of
those exponents of architecture that have studied it carefully.
Mr. Ruskin classified it under the heading of "Grotesque Renaissance,"
although he admitted that its position, size, and general proportions
rendered it impressive. Its proportions were good, but its graceful
effect was due to the inequality in the size of its cupolas and the
pretty grouping of the campaniles behind them. But he qualified his
praise by an opinion that the proportions of buildings have nothing
whatever to do with the style or general merits of their architecture,
for an artist trained in the worst schools, and utterly devoid of all
meaning and purpose in his work, may yet have such a natural gift
of massing or grouping as will render all his structures effective
when seen from a distance. Such a gift was very general with the late
Italian builders, so that many of the most contemptible edifices in the
country have a good stage effect so long as we do not approach them.
The Church of the Salute is much assisted by the beautiful flight of
steps in front of it down to the Canal, and its façade is rich and
beautiful of its kind. What raised the anger of Ruskin was the disguise
of the buttresses under the form of colossal scrolls, the buttresses
themselves being originally a hypocrisy, for the cupola is of timber,
and therefore needs none.
[Illustration:
81. A FRUIT STALL, VENICE
_From the Drawing, the property of Mr. C. P. Johnson._
Painted 1902.]
A lover of gardens and their produce, such as Mrs. Allingham is, could
not visit Venice without being captivated by the wealth of colour which
Nature has lavished upon the contents of the Venetian fruit stalls.
Even the most indifferent, when they get into meridional parts, cannot
be insensible to the luscious hues which the fruit baskets display.
To look out of the window of one's hotel on an Italian lake-side at
dawn and see the boats coming from all quarters of the lake laden with
the luscious tomatoes, plums, and other fruits, is not among the least
of the delights of a sojourn there. Mrs. Allingham's drawing bears
upon its face evidences that it is a literal translation of the scene.
We have none of the introduction of stage accessories in the way of
secchios and other studio belongings which find a place in most of
the Venetian output of this character. She has evidently delighted in
the mysteries of the tones of the wicker baskets, for we recognise in
them traces of the skill she achieves in England in the delineation
of similar surfaces on her tiled roofs. Her figure, too, has nothing
of the studio model in it. This black-haired girl is a new type for
her, but it is a faithful transcript of the original, and not one of
the robust beauties which one is accustomed to in the pictures of
Van Haanen and his followers. The stall itself was located somewhere
between the Campo San Stefano and the Rialto.
* * * * *
With these illustrations of Mrs. Allingham's painting elsewhere than
in England our tale is told. We trust that this digression, which
appeared to be necessary if a complete survey of the artist's lifework
up to the present time was to be portrayed, will not be deemed to have
appreciably affected the appropriateness of the title to the volume,
nor invalidated the claim that we have made as to her work having
most felicitously represented the fairest aspects of English life and
landscape--English life, whether of peer, commoner, or peasant, passed
under its healthiest and happiest conditions, and English landscape
under spring and summer skies and dressed in its most beauteous array
of flower and foliage--an England of which we may to-day be as proud
as were those who lived when the immortal lines concerning it were
penned:--
This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise;
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war;
This happy breed of men, this little world;
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands;
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,
This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,
Dear for reputation through the world;--
England, bound in with the triumphant sea,
Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege
Of watery Neptune.
THE END
_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Clayton's _English Female Artists_, 1876.
[2] In the Exhibition of 1903, 330 out of 1180, or 28 per cent, were
ladies.
[3] The first female gold medallist was Miss Louisa Starr (now Madame
Canziani), and she was followed by Miss Jessie Macgregor, a niece of
Alfred Hunt.
[4] The Parish Register shows that the plague reached Chalfont later on.
[5] See _Letters of Dante Gabriel Rossetti to William Allingham_.
(London: Fisher Unwin, 1897.)
[6] _A Flat Iron for a Farthing, or some Passages in the Life of an
Only Son_, by Juliana Horatia Ewing. (George Bell and Sons.)
[7] The model was a Mrs. Stewart, who, with her husband, sat to Mrs.
Allingham for years. They were well known in art circles, and had
charge of the Hogarth Club, Fitzroy Square, when Mrs. Allingham, before
her marriage, lived in Southampton Row close by. She introduced the
models to Mr. du Maurier, who immediately engaged them, and continued
to use them for many years. "Ponsonby de Tompkins" was Stewart, run
to seed, and "Mrs. Ponsonby de Tompkins" a very good portrait of Mrs.
Stewart.
[8] Lord Tennyson quoted this line to Mrs. Allingham one day when,
walking with him, they passed ground covered with the fallen flowers of
the lime trees.
[9] I have been reminded by the artist that my first introduction
to her was at Trafalgar Square, Chelsea, whither I went to see the
products of this Shere visit, and that I came away with some of them in
my possession.
[10] Another tree at Hatfield also claims this distinction.
[11] See "In Wormley Wood" (Plate 46), in the description of which I
have referred to the reasons for the disappearance of thatch as a roof
material. An additional one to those there mentioned is without doubt
the risk of fire. Since the introduction of coal, chimneys clog much
more readily with soot, and a fire from one of these with its showers
of sparks may quickly set ablaze not only the cottage where this
happens, but the whole village. That the insurance companies, by their
higher premiums for thatch-covered houses, recognise a greater risk,
may or may not be proof of greater liability to conflagration, but we
certainly nowadays hear of much fewer of those disasters, which even
persons now living can remember, whereby whole villages were swept out
of existence.
[12] Do not these lines rather refer to gorse?
[13] Rightly perhaps, for the local doctor pleasantly inquired while
she was painting it, why she had selected a house that had had more
fever in it than any other in the parish.
[14] Mrs. Allingham's friends sometimes say to her, "You paint so
quickly." Her reply is, "Perhaps I make a quick beginning, but I take a
long time to finish." Which is the fact.
[15] When will the day come that editions of the books illustrated by
Birket Foster will attain to their proper value? The poets illustrated
by miserable process blocks find a sale, whilst these volumes, issued
in the middle of the last century, and containing the finest specimens
of the wood-cutting art, attract, if we may judge by the second-hand
book-sellers' catalogues, no purchasers even at a sum which is a
fraction of their original price.
[16] _Irish Songs and Poems_ (1887), p. 47.
[Transcriber's Note:
Plate images have been moved to the beginning of the text headers.
Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.]