antiquity--especially Rome--and the other, garden-scenes. In fact, his
success with ruins as subject-matter gave him the _sobriquet_ of
“_Robert des Ruines_.” Hubert Robert was born in Paris in 1733
and after some preliminary art education went to Rome in 1754, where
he studied for eleven years, devoting himself almost exclusively
to antiquities. On his return to Paris he was made a member of the
Academy and his pictures brought him instant fame. He lived in the
studios in the Louvre until the outbreak of the Revolution, when he was
imprisoned for ten months; but during this time he painted and produced
a _Taking of the Prisoners by Torchlight in Open Carts from St.
Pélagie to St. Lazare_. He was lucky in his release, which occurred
through the mistake of the jailer, who sent another prisoner of the
same name to the guillotine. Hubert Robert died in Paris on April 15,
1808. Equal to his reputation as a painter was his reputation as a
landscape-gardener. He was the successor of Le Nôtre, whose style had
given place to the Anglo-Chinese gardens. Hubert Robert, as architect
of the King’s Gardens, designed the _Baths of Apollo_ in the
Park of Versailles in 1784, and he laid out the very famous grounds
of Mézéville near Étampes-in-Beauce, in which work Joseph Vernet was
associated.
[Illustration:
_Collection of Dr. and Mrs. Henry Barton Jacobs_
THE FOUNTAIN IN THE PARK
--_Hubert Robert_]
The distinguished picture shown here (57½ × 39 inches) from the
Collection of M. S. Bardac, Paris, presents the artist also as a
garden-lover. All the poetry produced by a tossing stream of spray
among green trees is expressed here.
“Hubert Robert,” writes Henri Frantz, “is one of those who, brought
back into fashion by the de Goncourts and their generation, enjoy a
reputation increasing every day; and thus drawings in red chalk or in
water-colors which one might easily have picked up years ago in the
boxes of the petty dealers of Paris or of Rome are found to-day in
museums and in the most celebrated Collections and fetch the highest
prices in European sales. Moreover, Hubert Robert did not go out of
fashion till the commencement of the Nineteenth Century and no artist
was _fêted_ and admired by his contemporaries more than he.”
Hubert Robert has again become the fashion.
MADAME LABILLE-GUIARD AND TWO PUPILS.
_Madame Labille-Guiard
(1749–1803)._
_Collection of
Mr. Edward J. Berwind._
Here we have a picture painted in the grand style, a beautiful
composition, a marvellous expression of technique, and a portrait-group
including a self-portrait of the artist.
Madame Labille-Guiard, a handsome women of dashing style, is seated
before her easel busy at work, wearing a very handsome costume and not
one exactly appropriate to working in a studio. However, the painter
being as delightfully feminine in her tastes as she was masculine in
her artistic performance, has the vanity of her sex to wish to be
perpetuated in rich and fashionable attire,--_comme il faut_ in
every respect.
The two young ladies, who are observing the work of Madame
Labille-Guiard are her favorite pupils, Mesdemoiselles Capet and
Rosemond.
Madame Labille-Guiard’s dress is blue-grey satin with lace at neck
and sleeves and hat of golden straw with blue-grey ostrich feathers
matching the dress. The chair in which the artist is seated is
upholstered in green velvet. The pupil in front wears a dark brown
dress. Most beautifully is painted the diaphanous ruffle at her elbow.
[Illustration:
_Collection of Mr. Edward J. Berwind_
MADAME LABILLE-GUIARD AND TWO PUPILS
--_Madame Labille-Guiard_]
The picture of large dimensions (82½ × 60 inches) is signed and dated
1785 and was exhibited at the Salon in that year. From the Collection
of Madame Griois, a descendant of the artist, the painting came to its
present owner, Mr. Edward J. Berwind.
Adélaïde Labille-des-Vertus was born in Paris, April 11, 1749. She
studied art under François Élie Vincent, a clever miniature-painter
and afterward under Latour. She married twice: first, the sculptor
Guiard, and, after his death, François André Vincent, the son of
her former teacher, himself a capable painter and etcher. Madame
Labille-Guiard became an Académicien in 1783 at the same time with
Madame Vigée Lebrun. She painted a great number of large oil-portraits
and miniatures, and in 1787 and 1789 attracted attention by her
portraits of the King’s daughters, Madame Adélaïde and Madame Victoire.
She also painted a large picture for Monsieur (afterwards Louis
XVIII), called the _Initiation of a Knight of Malta_, which was
finished at the outbreak of the Revolution; but which was destroyed.
Madame Labille-Guiard died in Paris on Floréal 4, _An XI. de la
République_, or April 8, 1803.
ENGLISH, EIGHTEENTH CENTURY
_ENGLISH, EIGHTEENTH CENTURY_
When Théophile Gautier saw Gainsborough’s portrait of _Mr. and Mrs.
Hallet_, now known as _The Morning Walk_, he said that he felt “a
strange retrospective sensation, so intense is the illusion it produces
of the spirit of the Eighteenth Century. We really fancy we see the
young couple,” he adds, “walking arm-in-arm along a garden avenue.”
It is this “strange retrospective sensation” that we feel when we look
upon the canvases of Gainsborough, Reynolds, and Romney.
The Eighteenth Century was one of those periods in the world’s history
when Society reached its peak, when Society was the goal of all things
and of every one, and when it was dominated by taste, elegance, gaiety,
lightness, brightness, wit, beauty, and charm. There was charm in
everything--in art, in music, in literature, in conversation, and in
dress. There was a _chic_ and dainty grace with which the Eighteenth
Century belle wore her large hat, tied her sash, and pointed the toe of
her high-heeled satin slipper on the polished floor of the ball-room,
or the greensward of the garden or lawn; and there was a corresponding
_chic_ and dashing elegance with which the Eighteenth Century _beau_
made his bow, tapped his snuff-box, or handed the “ladies of St.
James’s” in and out of their sedan-chairs.
This sparkling, iridescent age, with its taste, grace, and wit can
never come again--for our world has travelled far along another
path--but if the Eighteenth Century cannot return to us, we can return
to it by means of its literature, its music, and its art.
At such a period, when the social world was of exceptional brilliance,
it is only natural that the art of portraiture should have flourished
with unparalleled lustre.
Three great geniuses arose in England to bring this special branch of
painting up to a pitch that had never been reached there before.
It is true that Holbein’s portraits are magnificent, stately, and true
to life, and that they present wonderful portrayals of character; but
Holbein was painting in a world of drastic change, of adventure, of
political agitation, when nearly everyone whom he painted had the fear
of the axe descending upon his neck. It is true that Van Dyck painted
people of elegance and distinguished manner--the portrait of Robert
Rich, Earl of Warwick on page 189 would alone prove this--and gives us
a glimpse into a charming world.
But Reynolds, Gainsborough, and Romney were the first to paint
Society--that brilliant, witty, provocative, frivolous, graceful,
charming, _chic_, and altogether delightful Society of the
Eighteenth Century.
The Eighteenth Century! How we delight in it!
We are not too far away to feel at home in it; and, moreover, much
of our beautiful Georgian architecture survives in this country with
Chippendale, Sheraton, and Heppelwhite furniture and Spode, Wedgwood,
Chelsea, Lowestoft and various china, with other relics besides, to
show us that our Colonial forefathers lived in style and elegance. The
latest fashions in household furnishings and dress travelled here from
London even quicker than they travelled to the English provinces.
To lift the curtain upon the Eighteenth Century is like lifting the
cover from a Chinese jar of _pot-pourri_; and just as that subtle
yet pungent scent of rose-leaves, lavender, sweet spices, and musk
float from it, so visions appear before another sense. Our inherited
memories bring before us pictures of brocade gowns or “hoops,”
flowered silk overdresses, high-heeled satin slippers with glittering
buckles, ruffles of Mechlin lace, “chicken-skin” fans gay with Watteau
or Lancret or Pater pictures, rustling silks, shimmering satins,
nodding feathers, cinnamon coats, Ramilies tie-wigs, lace-solitaires,
wrist-ruffles, cocked-hats, swords, and snuff-boxes.
We seem to stand in lovely gardens, bright with roses and hollyhocks,
larkspur, foxglove, amaranth, love-in-a-mist, bleeding-hearts, and
gilliflowers, noting the moving shadow on the sundial and watching the
stately peacocks behind the well-clipped hedges of box and holly; or
we follow the fashionable world to Ranelagh or Vauxhall, where we look
with fascinated gaze on the beautiful women in hoops of brocade or
lutestring silk, much painted, powdered and patched, glancing archly
beneath their coquettish “gipsy hats” at their gallant escorts, who
know so well how to lead them through the steps of a minuet or a
gavotte to the rococo tunes of Rameau, Dr. Arne, or Couperin with their
quirls and pretty runs and trills and long pauses for stately bows.
That world is so fascinating to us that we fancy we, too, could wear
without embarrassment the elaborate costume and that we, too, would
feel much at home with Horace Walpole and his friends at _Strawberry
Hill_. We, too, might be able to prepare minced chicken in a
chafing-dish, just as satisfactorily as the Miss Berrys; and we like
to fancy that we could take part in their airy conversation of charm,
banter, and light mockery. At any rate, if we should not be able to
succeed in entertaining Horace Walpole, we are very certain that Sir
Horace could entertain us!
All the Society people of London of this time seem very friendly to us
and we are strangely “at home” with the portraits of Gainsborough, Sir
Joshua, and Romney.
When we look upon _Diana, Lady Crosbie_, _Lady Betty Delmé_,
_Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire_, _Maria Walpole, Duchess of
Gloucester_, _Lady Derby_, and _The Hon. Mrs. Davenport_ do we not feel
that we have known and talked to these people in the flesh? Their eyes
meet ours and our thoughts meet theirs,--and we are not strangers to
one another.
And when we look upon Gainsborough’s _Mall_ does it not bring back
memories of the time when we, ourselves, walked there with all the gay
throng of a bright morning?
Lord Gower said very aptly:
“Gainsborough created a new school by making a lady’s petticoat a thing
of beauty. He could even throw a halo upon a ribbon or a scarf.”
That is true; but Lord Gower forgot the fact that the lady had by her
taste and her high-bred elegance conferred distinction on her clothes
by the fitness with which she selected them and by the manner in which
she wore them.
Thrice in England have pairs of geniuses appeared at the same time,
inviting comparison and attracting partisans--Keats and Shelley;
Thackeray and Dickens; and Reynolds and Gainsborough.
There should be no partisans. The more we love and admire Keats, the
better we are able to admire and love Shelley; the more we appreciate
and delight in Dickens, the more we are able to appreciate and delight
in Thackeray; and the more we comprehend and enjoy Sir Joshua, the more
we are able to comprehend and enjoy Gainsborough.
Although they were rivals--and quite bitter ones at times--the two
supreme English painters of the Eighteenth Century admired each other
prodigiously.
“Damn him! how various he is!” Gainsborough exclaimed of Reynolds; and
Sir Joshua remarked to Sir George Beaumont of Gainsborough; “I cannot
imagine how he manages to produce his effects.”
“What is it then that gives Romney his hold upon this generation and
will continue to give him a hold so long as a love of art endures
among us?” Humphrey Ward asks; and then he answers his own question as
follows:
“In part, of course, it is because he shares with Reynolds and
Gainsborough the good fortune of having kept alive for us a society of
which the fascination is enduring--that limited and privileged society
of the Eighteenth Century which has realized such a perfect art of
living and with which we can clasp hands across the gap as we cannot
with the men and women of Charles the Second’s time, or even of Queen
Anne’s. Much more is it because of temperament and training. Romney was
an artist in love with loveliness; because he found it in the women and
children of his time and stamped it on countless canvases.
“To our problem-haunted painters of to-day it may be seen that his
sense of form was ‘generic and superficial’; they may condemn him
because he did not try to penetrate deep into character and because he
simplified too much, like the Greek sculptors. The lover of mere human
beauty will care little for such objections, provided that a portrait
gives him the essentials of a beautiful face.
‘The witchery of eyes, the grace that tips
The inexpressible douceur of the lips’--
and has blended them with the aristocratic dignity of the Lady Sligo,
or with the melting sweetness of many of the sketches of Emma. This is
what he finds in every first-rate Romney; and he finds much more. He
finds pure and unfaded color, the fruit of the painter’s knowledge and
of a self-restraint which forbade him to search for complex effects
through rash experiments. He finds a quality of painting which, though
it wants the subtlety and preciousness that Gainsborough reached
instinctively and Sir Joshua by effort, is a quality to which nobody
but a master can attain. To be convinced of this we have only to look
closely at the brush-work of the eyes in any of the National Gallery
Romneys, or the draperies in such pictures as the _Lady Warwick and
Children_ or the _Lady Derby_.
“When all is said, Romney remains one of the greatest painters of the
Eighteenth Century and one of the glories of the English name.”
We are apt to think that it was easier to conquer a reputation in the
Eighteenth Century than it is to-day and that Sir Joshua Reynolds,
Gainsborough, Romney, Hoppner, and Raeburn stepped easily into their
commanding positions. Let us remember that Horace Walpole mentions the
fact that there were two thousand portrait-painters in London in his
time!
The story of English Painting previous to the Eighteenth Century is
interesting and very different from that of any nation on the Continent.
The Wars of the Roses, which lasted thirty years (1455–1485), coincide
with the great developments of Painting in Italy and Flanders. During
this period, while York and Lancaster were, like the Lion and the
Unicorn, fighting for the Crown, no attention could be paid to the
painting of pictures. Up to this period England had had a notable
past in portraiture, fresco-painting, and, even more particularly,
in the art of illumination and miniature-painting. In the decoration
of manuscripts from about 1250 to 1350 the Anglo-Norman painters
stood first in this branch of art. The old monastic artists had great
traditions to follow and superb models to draw upon, such as the
_Book of Kells_ (dating from the Eighth or Ninth Century); and
the Winchester School of the Tenth Century stood very high before the
advent of the Normans in 1066.
Our own country to-day can show many examples of this splendid work in
private collections. After William Caxton set up his printing-press at
Westminster in 1471, there was little more need for the laboriously
written manuscripts with their exquisite miniature-painting and
illumination.
Oliver Cromwell’s Roundhead bandits and other Puritans with their
wholesale demolishing and slashing of all art and everything beautiful
together with the Great Fire of London in 1666 destroyed all the
paintings that could have told us just what had been accomplished in
England at the time when Fra Angelico, Fra Lippo Lippi, and Botticelli
were creating masterpieces in Italy and when Roger van der Weyden
and Memling were painting gloriously in the great realm of the Dukes
of Burgundy. Such works as the _Romaunt de la Rose_ and other
Anglo-Norman manuscripts give us a hint of what Painting in England
must have been; for, of course, English, or Anglo-Norman Painting, in
Plantagenet days must have been--as in other countries--an enlarged
version of the brightly colored miniatures touched up with gold-leaf in
the manuscripts.
Henry VIII seems to have been the first English King who was a
patron of art in the modern sense. But there was no English artist
of power to be patronized. The German Hans Holbein (see page 240)
was made Court-Painter. Holbein painted all the great personages
in Tudor England and his influence lasted long after his death.
Miniature-portraits were also popular. The greatest artist in this line
was Nicholas Hilliard (1547–1619), a native of Exeter, trained as a
goldsmith, a follower of Holbein, and appointed goldsmith, carver, and
portrait-painter to Queen Elizabeth (whose portrait he painted many
times). Later he was portrait-painter to James I. It was Hilliard, too,
who engraved the Great Seal of England in 1587. Hilliard’s pupil, Isaac
Oliver (1556–1617?), also a pupil of Federigo Zuccaro, was unsurpassed
as a miniature-painter and taught his son Peter (1601–1660), who
was famous for his drawings and water-colors as well as for his
miniatures. Samuel Cooper (1609–1672), achieved a great reputation as
a miniaturist portrait-painter and painted Charles II, Henrietta Maria,
all the celebrities of the Court, and also John Milton and Oliver
Cromwell. Collectors appreciate his works to-day.
Holbein left no School and there was no one to succeed him.
Consequently when Antonio Moro (see page 257), came to England from
Spain in 1553 to paint Mary Tudor, he stayed in London for some time
painting celebrities.
In Queen Elizabeth’s time another foreign portrait-painter, Federigo
Zuccaro (or Zucchero) arrived from Italy with a great reputation,
having worked for Pope Gregory XIII and the Cardinal of Lorraine, and
also in Antwerp and Amsterdam. Zuccaro painted Queen Elizabeth, Sir
Francis Walsingham, Sir Walter Raleigh, the Earl of Leicester, and many
other English notables.
Another foreigner, Daniel Mytens (1590?–1656), arrived in the reign
of James I, became his Court-Painter and continued in the post in
the reign of Charles I, until Van Dyck’s popularity sent him back to
Holland. Mytens painted in the style of Rubens and Van Dyck. Hampton
Court Palace contains many full length portraits by him. A portrait
by Mytens of Jeffrey Hudson (see page 191), holding a dog by a leash,
hangs in Buckingham Palace.
However, in the reign of Charles I, Anthony Van Dyck (see page 181)
dominated Painting just as Holbein had in the reign of Henry VIII. For
years after his death every painter tried to follow Van Dyck’s style;
but they all missed his distinction, not having his genius to start
with.
Civil war and Puritanism killed art completely. Consequently
when “Charlie came over the water” and the “King Enjoyed his Own
Again,” there was nobody in the kingdom able to paint an acceptable
portrait. Again a foreigner met the need. This time it was Peter Lely
(1618–1680), who was a Dutchman, born in Westphalia, Germany, the son
of Pieter van der Faes, a captain of infantry, who had changed his name
to Lely. In 1640 young Lely was in England, painting landscapes and
trying to imitate Van Dyck in portraiture. The marriage of Princess
Mary to William, Prince of Orange gave Lely his first opportunity and
he painted the Royal couple with Charles II, who made him a knight and
baronet in 1679. Sir Peter only enjoyed his honors a year, for he died
in 1680. Sir Peter Lely painted a great number of portraits, including
the “Court Beauties,” which now hang in Hampton Court Palace.
The Court-Painter of Queen Mary II and Queen Anne was another
foreigner, Godfrey Kneller (1646–1723), a native of Lübeck, a pupil of
Ferdinand Bol, Carlo Maratti, and Bernini, with painting experiences in
Rome and Venice. Kneller painted portraits of Charles II, Louis XIV,
James II, William III, Queen Mary, Queen Anne, and George I. For Queen
Mary II he painted the “Beauties” at Hampton Court, in a certain sense
a continuation of Sir Peter Lely’s “Beauties.” Kneller was knighted in
1692 and made a baronet in 1715.
Sir Godfrey painted the members of the Kit-Cat Club and every person of
distinction in England. In 1705 he settled near Twickenham. Pope wrote
an epitaph for Kneller’s monument in Westminster Abbey.
William Hogarth (1697–1764) who now enters the lists, is the first
really English painter. Hogarth was a native of London and an engraver
as well as a painter. Hogarth became Sergeant-Painter to the King
in 1757. He first attracted attention by his prints for Butler’s
_Hudibras_ in 1726 and at this time began to paint in oils. In 1731 he
painted _The Harlot’s Progress_ and followed this with _Southwark Fair_
and _The Rake’s Progress_ which gave him great fame as a satirist. In
1745 he painted his own _Portrait_ and the _Marriage à la Mode_ (six
scenes). The vigor and personality of his portraits, the beautiful
coloring of his palette, and the atmosphere of the Eighteenth Century
make Hogarth one of the great names in art. England was a long time
producing an artist; but when he came he was a very great one.
Hogarth was so pre-eminently a chronicler of the fashions and follies
of his time that we are apt to forget his beautiful use of color, and
Hogarth’s technique is so solid and so sure that his colors are as
fresh to-day as when they were painted.
Hogarth did not believe in his powers of portraiture; but the world
does not agree with him. The portrait of _Lavinia Fenton as Polly
Peachum in the Beggar’s Opera_, (National Gallery, London) ranks
as one of the great portraits of the world. And there are others:
_David Garrick and his Wife_ in Windsor Castle; his own _Portrait_
(National Gallery, London); _Archbishop Herring_ (Lambeth Palace); _Peg
Woffington_; and many others.
Hogarth’s book _The Analysis of Beauty_ had the following origin. In
his own portrait painted in 1745 he drew on a palette in one corner
of the picture a serpentine line with the words: “The line of beauty
and grace.” So much discussion ensued that Hogarth wrote the book to
explain what he meant and to establish a standard of beauty.
The Eighteenth Century saw the great period of English Painting
expressed in Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723–1792); Thomas Gainsborough
(1727–1788); and George Romney (1734–1802). Others of importance
were Richard Wilson (1714–1782), famous for his landscapes in many
of which ruins were introduced; Francis Cotes (1725–1770), famous
portrait-painter; and, lapping over into the Nineteenth Century,
Sir William Beechey (1753–1839), who became portrait-painter to the
Queen; John Hoppner (1758?–1810), portrait-painter (see page 416);
John Opie (1761–1807), historical portrait-painter; Sir Thomas
Lawrence (1769–1830); Sir Henry Raeburn (1756–1823); Joseph Mallord
William Turner (1775–1851); John Constable (1776–1837); John Wilkie
(1785–1841); and John Crome, known as “Old Crome” (1793–1842).
LADY BETTY DELMÉ.
_Sir Joshua Reynolds
(1723–1792)._
_Collection of
Mr. and Mrs. Herbert L. Satterlee._
This, one of Sir Joshua’s finest group pictures (93 × 57 inches), was
painted in 1777, a year in which the artist made many notable portraits
including that of Diana, Viscountess Crosbie (see page 345). Lady Betty
Delmé is seated at the base of an old beech-tree on her estate between
London and Portsmouth, her arm around her children. The little Scotch
terrier seems much interested in his master. The whole is a wonderful
study in amber and russet tones. The picture came to Mrs. Satterlee
from her father, the late Mr. J. P. Morgan.