Women artists in all ages and countries

MARY MOSER.

This lady, a member of the Royal Academy in London, is mentioned by the biographers of Nollekens as “skillful in painting flowers, sarcastic when she held the pen.” She liked to visit the illiterate Nollekens, at whose house, with a cup of tea, she occasionally enjoyed the company of Dr. Johnson. Smith does not hesitate to charge her with having set her cap at Fuseli, “but his heart, unfortunately, had already been deeply pierced by Angelica Kauffman.”

She was the daughter of a German artist in enameling, but was educated in England. She was truly wonderful in flower-pieces. The tasteful decorations of some new apartments in Windsor Palace were executed by her hand.

While in London she wrote thus to her friend Mrs. Lloyd:

“Come to London and admire our plumes; we sweep the sky! A duchess wears six feathers, a lady four, and every milkmaid one at each corner of her cap! * * * Fashion is grown a monster; pray tell your operator that your hair must measure just three quarters of a yard from the extremity of one wing to the other.”

Queen Charlotte took particular notice of Miss Moser, and for a considerable time employed her for the decoration of one chamber, which her majesty commanded to be called Miss Moser’s room, and for which the queen paid upward of nine hundred pounds.

PATIENCE WRIGHT.

This extraordinary woman, as Dunlap rightly calls her, was born, like West, among a people who professed to eschew all that is imaginative or pictorial. Her parents, who were Quakers, lived at Bordentown, New Jersey, where Patience Lovell was born in 1725. Her uncommon talent for imitation was shown long before she had an opportunity of seeing any work of art. The dough meant for the oven, or the clay found near her dwelling, supplied her with materials out of which she moulded figures that bore a recognizable resemblance to human beings, and, ere long, to the persons with whom she was most familiar.

She married Joseph Wright of Bordentown in 1748. He lived only nineteen years. Before 1772 the lady had gained not a little celebrity in some of the cities of the United States for her astonishing likenesses in wax. A widow, with three children dependent on her for support, she was obliged to seek a larger field for her efforts. The prospect of success in London was good, and to London she went.

There is testimony in English journals of the day that her works were thought extraordinary of their kind. She bade fair to rival the famous Madame Tussaud. Her conversational powers and general intelligence gained her the attention and friendship of several among the distinguished men of the day. Though a resident of England, her sympathies were engaged in behalf of her countrymen during the struggle of the American Revolution. It is said she even rendered important aid to the cause by sending to American officers intelligence of the designs of the British government. She corresponded with Franklin while he was in Paris; and as soon as a new general was appointed, or a squadron began to be fitted out, he was sure to know it. She was often able to gain information in families where she visited, and to transmit to her American friends accounts of the number of British troops and the places of their destination.

At one time she had frequent access to Buckingham House, and was accustomed to express her sentiments freely to their majesties, who were amused with her originality. The great Chatham honored her with his visits, and she took the full-length likeness of him, which appears in a glass case in Westminster Abbey.

The following is the postscript to one of Franklin’s letters, offering service should she return to America through France:

“My grandson, whom you may remember when a little saucy boy at school, being my amanuensis in writing the within letter, has been diverting me with his remarks. He conceives that your figures can not be packed up without damage from any thing you could fill the boxes with to keep them steady. He supposes, therefore, that you must put them into post-chaises, two and two, which will make a long train upon the road, and be a very expensive conveyance; but, as they will eat nothing at the inns, you may the better afford it. When they come to Dover, he is sure, they are so like life and nature, that the master of the packet will not receive them on board without passports. It will require, he says, five or six of the long French stage-coaches to convey them as passengers from Calais to Paris; and a ship with good accommodations to convey them to America, where all the world will wonder at your clemency to Lord N——, that, having it in your power to hang or send him to the lighters, you had generously reprieved him for transportation.”

Mrs. Wright was sometimes called “Sibylla,” as she professed to foretell political events. In a London magazine of 1775 she is called “the Promethean modeler,” with the remark: “In her very infancy she discovered such a striking genius, and began making faces with new bread and putty to such an extent that she was advised to try her skill in wax.”

Her likenesses of the king, queen, Lord Temple, Lord Chatham, Barry, Wilkes, and others, attracted universal attention. Critics gave her credit for wonderful natural abilities, and said she would have been a miracle if the advantages of a liberal education had fallen to her lot. Noticing her quick and brilliant eyes, their glance was said to “penetrate and dart through the person looked on.” She had a faculty of distinguishing the characters and dispositions of her visitors, and was rarely mistaken in her judgment of them.

Dunlap farther speaks of “an energetic wildness in her manner. While conversing she was busy modeling, both hands being under her apron.”

Her eldest daughter married Mr. Platt, an American; she inherited some of her mother’s talents. She became well known in New York about 1787 by her modeling in wax. The younger was the wife of Hoppner, the rival of Stuart and Lawrence in portrait-painting. The young lady’s sweet face may be recognized in some historical compositions. The British Consul at Venice, mentioned by Moore in his Life of Byron, was the grandson of Mrs. Wright.

Mrs. Wright lost favor with George III. by her earnest reproofs for his sanction of the war with America. She went to Paris in 1781, but was in London in 1785, when she wrote to Jefferson that she was delighted that her son Joseph had painted the best likeness of Washington of any painter in America. Washington himself said he “should think himself happy to have his bust done by Mrs. Wright, whose uncommon talents,” etc.

She wished not only to make a likeness of the hero, but of those gentlemen who had assisted at signing the treaty of peace. “To shame the English king,” she says, “I would go to any trouble and expense, to add my mite to the stock of honor due to Adams, Jefferson, and others, to send to America.” And she offered to go herself to Paris and mould the likeness of Jefferson. She wished to consult him how best to honor her country by holding up the likenesses of her eminent men, either in painting or wax-work; and hinted at the danger of sending Washington’s picture to London, from the enmity of the government and the espionage of the police; the latter, she observes, having “all the folly, without the ability, of the French.”

The exercise of artistic accomplishment was now so popular, that culture in painting, drawing, and etching became general in the education of young ladies. The fashion of patronizing the arts, too, was in vogue among women of the highest rank. Lady Dorothea Saville painted portraits and drew admirable sketches. Lady Louisa de Greville and her sister Augusta were ardent connoisseurs. The Countess Lavinia Spencer was celebrated for her skill in etching; and Lady Amherst, Lady Temple, and Lady Henry Fitzgerald, were noted artists.

Two princesses of the royal family took pleasure in painting. Princess Elizabeth drew with taste and skill. She engraved a “Birth of Love” after Tomkins, and produced several original specimens of great beauty. One of her fancy-pieces was “Cupid turned Volunteer,” which appeared, in 1804, in a series of prints engraved with poetical illustrations. The designs were beautiful. Three years later, a series of twenty-four etchings by her royal highness was published. They evinced spirit and taste, and a deep feeling for the beautiful.

Charlotte Matilda, afterward Queen of Wurtemberg, drew and painted landscapes after the manner of Waterloo.

LADY DIANA BEAUCLERK.

Lady Diana Spencer, the wife of Topham Beauclerk, and the daughter of the Duke of Marlborough, was celebrated as an amateur artist, and produced drawings that gained the enthusiastic admiration of Walpole. In 1776 he built a hexagonal tower, which he called “Beauclerk Closet,” as it was constructed “purposely for the reception of seven incomparable drawings by Lady Diana, illustrating scenes in his ‘Mysterious Mother.’” They were conceived and executed in a fortnight. In 1796 the lady produced designs for a translation of Bürger’s ballad of “Leonore,” by her nephew, published in folio the following year. Lady Diana also finished a series of designs for a splendid edition of Dryden’s Fables in folio. These show that she possessed an elegant and fertile imagination, with a truly classic taste. In her portrait of the Duchess of Devonshire, the nymph-like grace of the figure is like what a Grecian sculptor would give to the form of a dryad or river-goddess.

She died in 1808, at the age of seventy-four.

MARGARET, COUNTESS OF LUCAN,

possessed a remarkable talent for copying miniatures and illuminations. She completed a series of embellishments of Shakspeare’s historical plays, in five folio volumes, now preserved in the library at Althorp. For sixteen years she devoted herself to the pursuit, indulging in “the pleasurable toil” of illustrating that great work. She commenced this enterprise when fifty years of age, and ended it at sixty-six. Walpole says: “Whatever of taste, beauty, and judgment in decoration, by means of landscapes, flowers, birds, heraldic ornaments and devices, etc., could dress our immortal bard in a yet more fascinating form, has been accomplished by a noble hand, which undertook a Herculean task, and with a true delicacy and finish of execution that has been rarely equaled.”

Lady Lucan also copied the most exquisite works of Isaac and Peter Oliver, Hoskins, and Cooper; “with genius,” says her admiring friend, “that almost depreciated those masters;” and “transferring the vigor of Raphael to her copies in water-colors.” She died in 1815.

The Countess of Tott exhibited in 1804 her portrait of the famous Elfi Bey. Lord Orford speaks of Mrs. Delany’s skill in painting and imitating flowers with cuttings of colored paper. This lady is mentioned by Madame d’Arblay, in her Diary, as the queen’s friend, the wife of Patrick Delany, who was the intimate friend of Dean Swift.

Among a host of minor women artists may be mentioned Mary Benwell, who painted portraits and miniatures in oil and crayons, exhibited from 1762 to 1783. She married Code, who was in the army, and purchased rank for him. He was stationed at Gibraltar, where he died. Mrs. Code retired from her profession in 1800. Miss Anna Ladd, skilled in the same branch, died in 1770. Agatha van der Myn also painted flowers, fruits, and birds in England.

Anna Smyters, the wife of a sculptor and architect, acquired celebrity for her miniatures and water-color paintings. One, representing a wind-mill with sails spread, a miller with his sack on his shoulder, a carriage and horse, and a road leading to a village, was complete, of a size so small that it could be covered by a grain of corn.

Miss Anna Jemima Provis was said to have made known to some English artists the receipt for coloring used by the great Venetian masters. It had been brought from Italy by her grandfather.

Mrs. Dards opened a new exhibition with flower-paintings, in the richest colors. They were exact imitations of nature, done with fish-bones.

Mrs. Hoadley, wife of the Bishop of Winchester, was well skilled in painting. Caroline Watson was eminent in engraving. She was born in London, 1760. Receiving instruction from her father, she engraved several subjects in mezzotinto and in the dotted manner. Her productions were said to possess great merit. Miss Hartley, who etched admirably, preceded her.

Maria Catharine Prestel was the wife of a German painter and engraver. She aided him in some of his best plates, particularly landscapes. The marriage was not happy, and the pair separated. Madame Prestel came to England in 1786, where she engraved prints in a style surpassed by no artist for spirit and delicacy. She made etchings, and finished in aquatinta in a fine picturesque manner. She died in London in 1794.

Mrs. Grace exhibited her works seven years in the Society of Artists. They were chiefly portraits in oil, rather heavy in coloring. She attempted a historical subject in 1767: Antigonus, Seleucus, and Stratonice. Her residence was in London.

Mrs. Wright, the daughter of Mr. Guise—one of the gentlemen of his majesty’s Chapel Royal at St. James’s, and master of the choristers at Westminster—was a successful painter in miniature. She married, unfortunately, a French emigrant, who shortly afterward left her, and went to France, where he died. Her second husband was Mr. Wright, a miniature-painter. She died in 1802.

Fiorillo also mentions Betty Langley, Miss Noel, Miss Linwood, Miss Bell, Madame Beaurepas, and the eldest daughter of Smirke the academician.

Walpole mentions Elizabeth Neal as a distinguished paintress, who went to Holland. She painted flowers so admirably, that she was said to rival the famous Zeghers.

Among English flower-painters should not be forgotten Miss Elizabeth Blackwell, Miss Gray, Anna Ladd, Anna Lee, and Mary Lawrence, who busied herself with a splendid work on roses—painting and engraving the illustrations.

Catherine Read painted beautiful family scenes, and obtained considerable reputation as a painter of portraits, both in oil and crayon. A crayon, in the possession of a lady of New York, was recognized as hers by an eminent American painter. She lived near St. James’s, and frequently sent pieces to the exhibition. Several mezzotint prints after her pictures were published. In 1770 she went to the East Indies, staid a few years, and returned to England. Her niece, Miss Beckson, also an artist, who went with her to the East Indies, afterward married a baronet.

Some of Anna Trevingard’s pictures were engraved. Miss Drax and Miss Martin engraved from Tomkins and Der Petit; Miss Morland and Catharine Mary Fanshawe drew and engraved twenty pictures of historical scenes. The zealous and industrious Mary Spilsbury’s studies from country life, and particularly those in which she represented her rural scenes and sports of children, have been reproduced in engravings.

It is certainly surprising that engraving and flower-painting did not boast at this time a greater number of distinguished followers.

It now becomes our task to linger a moment over the history of a paintress whose genius and attainments won for her an enviable reputation, and whose life experience illustrates the condition and circumstances of art amid the higher classes of English society.

MARIA COSWAY.

Maria Hadfield was the daughter of an Englishman who became rich by keeping a hotel in Leghorn. It is said he lost four children in infancy, and detected a maid-servant in the avowal that she sent them to heaven out of love, and meant that the fifth, Maria, should follow the rest. The woman was imprisoned for life, and the child was sent to a convent to be educated. There she received lessons in music and drawing, in common with other branches. Returning home, she devoted herself to painting, and the acquaintance she afterward formed at Rome with Battomi, Mengs, Maron, and Fuseli, with her contemplation of the works of art in churches and palaces, contributed to the farther development of her talents.

At her father’s death she formed the resolution of entering a cloister, but her mother persuaded her to accompany her first to London. There the young girl became acquainted with the interesting and popular Angelica Kauffman, who easily prevailed on her to relinquish all idea of taking the veil.

The change of resolution was followed not long afterward by Maria’s marriage with Richard Cosway, a portrait and miniature painter, who occupied a high position, and whose soft, pliant, and idealized style was well adapted to please rich patrons whose vanity desired the most favorable representation. In his carefully-finished miniatures the most ordinary features were transformed into beauty, and pale, watery eyes were made to sparkle with intellectual expression. This faculty of beautifying rendered him the favorite of the wealthy and aristocratic. He was, moreover, a member of the Academy, and had the honor of being called a friend by the Prince of Wales, circumstances which contributed still more to make him the “fashion.” But, unfortunately, he had not good sense enough to wear these honors meekly. Vanity led him into ridiculous extravagances. He dressed in the extreme of the mode, and kept his servants costumed in the like absurd manner; he gave expensive entertainments, and succeeded in drawing around him a number of frivolous young sprigs of nobility, who would do him the favor of drinking his Champagne and scattering his money at play, and the next morning would amuse their “set” by laughing heartily over the pretensions of the “parvenu.”

Such was the situation of Cosway when he fell in love with Maria Hadfield, wooed, and won her, and took his wife to his magnificently furnished house. Maria was very young, and, having come recently from Italy, was inexpert both in the English language and English customs. Her fashionable husband chose to keep her strictly isolated from all society till she should learn to appear with dignity and grace in the distinguished circles where he meant she should move.

Meanwhile he caused her to complete her artistic education, and to practice on the lessons she received. Her miniatures soon gained such appreciation that the highest praise was awarded to them of all that appeared at the Royal Academy exhibitions. Maria was even pointed out in the street as the successful artist. Then arrived the time when, in Cosway’s opinion, she was fitted to become the central point of attraction in his house for the brilliant society he loved.

Very soon the talk every where was of the young, beautiful, and gifted Italian. Cosway’s receptions were crowded, and half the carriages at his door contained sitters ambitious of the honor of being painted by the hand of his lovely wife. Her portrait of the beautiful Duchess of Devonshire in the character of Spenser’s Cynthia raised her to the pinnacle of reputation.

Cosway, however, was too prudent, and, at the same time, too proud to permit his wife to be esteemed a professional painter, for he knew well that her productions would have greater value as the work of an amateur. To be painted by her was thus represented and regarded as a special favor; and costly presents were frequently added to the customary payments for her pictures.

In another matter the husband was more indulgent. Maria was passionately fond of music, and he permitted her to exercise her gift of song at the brilliant companies invited to his magnificent abode. This completed the enchantment. Visitors came in such numbers that the house would scarcely contain them; and all who were fashionable, or had any aristocratic pretensions, were sure to be found in Cosway’s drawing-rooms. There would be the poet whose latest effusion was the rage in high circles; the author of the last sensation-speech in Parliament; any rising star in art, or any hero of a wonderful adventure; in short, all the lions of London were gathered in that place of resort, to see and to be seen, and, above all, to listen to the charming Cosway. The Honorable Mrs. Damer, Lady Lyttleton, the Countess of Aylesbury, Lady Cecilia Johnston, and the Marchioness of Townshend, were Maria’s most intimate friends, and were usually present to add splendor to her receptions; while among the men were General Paoli, Lords Sandys and Erskine, and his royal highness the Prince of Wales, the foreign embassadors being also invited upon special occasions.

The mansion in Pall Mall was soon found too small to accommodate such an influx of visitors, and to display its master’s works and finery. A new one was taken in Oxford Street.

Several of Cosway’s biographers mention the fact that the figure of a lion beside the entrance put it into some wag’s head to stick on the door an epigram that had a severe point, as the foppish little painter was “not much unlike a monkey in the face:”

“When a man to a fair for a show brings a lion,
’Tis usual a monkey the sign-post to tie on;
But here the old custom reversed is seen,
For the lion’s without, and the monkey’s within.”

The artist left the house in consequence of this foolish joke, and fitted up another in the same street, with the magnificence of a fairy palace. The author of “Nollekens and his Times” says:

“His new house he fitted up in so picturesque, and, indeed, so princely a style, that I regret drawings were not made of the general appearance of each apartment; for many of the rooms were more like scenes of enchantment, penciled by a poet’s fancy, than any thing perhaps before displayed in a domestic habitation. His furniture consisted of ancient chairs, couches, and conversation-stools, elaborately carved and gilt, and covered with the most costly Genoa velvets; escritoirs of ebony, inlaid with mother-of-pearl; and rich caskets for antique gems, exquisitely enameled, and adorned with onyxes, opals, rubies, and emeralds. There were also cabinets of ivory, curiously wrought; mosaic tables set with jasper, blood-stone, and lapis lazuli, having their feet carved into the claws of lions and eagles; screens of old raised Oriental Japan; massive musical clocks, richly chased with ormolu and tortoise-shell; ottomans superbly damasked; Persian and other carpets, with corresponding hearth-rugs, bordered with ancient family crests, and armorial ensigns in the centre; and rich hangings of English tapestry. The carved chimney-pieces were adorned with the choicest bronzes, models in wax, and terra-cotta; the tables were covered with old Sèvre, blue Mandarin, Nankin, and Dresden China; and the cabinets were surmounted with crystal cups, adorned with the York and Lancaster roses, which might probably have graced the splendid banquets of the proud Wolsey.”

But splendor, fashionable position, success as an artist, and the friendship of princes and nobles could not make Richard Cosway happy. He saw the sneers lurking beneath the smiles of his aristocratic guests, and he heard the rumor that he was accused by other artists of using his talents to flatter the great, whose fleeting favor could not, after all, confer upon him lasting reputation. Maria’s health, too, began to fail; and, as the London climate was no longer endurable for her, her husband took her to travel on the Continent. They went to Paris and Flanders. One day, as they walked in the Gallery of the Louvre, Cosway pointed to the naked wall, and said his cartoons would look well in that place. He presented them to the French king, who accepted and hung them up, giving the painter in return four splendid pieces of Gobelin tapestry, which Cosway presented to the Prince of Wales.

With improved health, Mrs. Cosway returned to England and resumed her brilliant parties. But her spirits again failing, she accompanied her brother to Italy, expecting her husband to join her.

Three years’ residence in that soft clime quite restored her health, and she set out on her return to London. A new and terrible trial awaited her there: she was called to mourn the death of her only daughter.

Again she departed for France, and, after the breaking out of the war between that country and England, pursued her journey to Italy. She established at Lodi a college for the education of young ladies on a plan she had arranged for a similar institution at Lyons.

On the establishment of peace she returned to England, and became the tender nurse of her invalid husband, trying to solace the weary hours which were passed in weakness and pain.

Upon Mrs. Cosway’s return, Smith informs us, “she had caused the body of their departed child, which her husband had preserved in an embalmed state within a marble sarcophagus that stood in the drawing-room of his house in Stratford Place, to be conveyed to Bunhill row, where it was interred, sending the sarcophagus to Mr. Nollekens, the sculptor, to take care of for a time. It is a curious coincidence that the same hour this sarcophagus was removed from Mr. Nolleken’s residence, Mr. Cosway died in the carriage of his old friend, Miss Udney, who had been accustomed, during his infirm state, occasionally to give him an airing,” and had taken him out that morning, as the weather was fine.

Maria heard the sound of the returning wheels, and, hastening down to receive her husband, found only his lifeless corpse. He had died suddenly, upon a third and last attack of paralysis, July 4, 1821, at the advanced age of eighty.

The widow returned to Lodi, where her ladies’ college was still flourishing. The place was endeared to her by many happy memories, and there she was loved and respected by a large circle of friends. She died in 1821.

In her style Mrs. Cosway appears to have taken much from Flaxman and Fuseli. In many of her works something fantastic is embodied, which is associated with more of the wild and terrible than we usually find in the creations of a mind at ease. No doubt her inconsolable grief for the loss of her child was the cause of this unfeminine peculiarity. She originated compositions from Virgil and Homer, as well as from Spenser and Shakspeare.

The engraving from a portrait of Maria Cosway represents her in the bloom of youth, with a profusion of light hair dressed after the then prevailing mode. The fresh and delicate loveliness of the face is most attractive, and there is a wonderful beauty in the large, soft eyes, and the artless innocence that beams in their expression. The celebrated Mrs. Cowley, in a letter to her, thus speaks of her portrait: “If you can draw every body as justly as the fair Maria Cosway, you will be the first portrait-painter in the kingdom.”

She painted a portrait of Madame Le Brun. One of her latest works was a picture representing Madame Recamier as a guardian angel watching a slumbering child. “The Winter’s Day,” in twelve pieces, was a series by her, and she also published a book of drawings jointly with Hopner. Her “Lama,” exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1788, showed a female figure reclining by a stream; and the striking likeness to Mrs. Fitzherbert caused no little sensation.

MADAME TUSSAUD.

Madame Tussaud’s famous wax-work collection was first opened in Paris about 1770, by M. Courcius, her uncle. Though consisting then chiefly of busts, with a few full-length figures, it attracted much attention as a novelty; and Louis XVI. was wont to amuse himself by placing living figures, costumed, among the wax ones. In 1802 Madame Tussaud opened her exhibition in London; afterward visiting all the large towns in Great Britain. Her rooms were large and splendidly decorated, and her figures were magnificently dressed—some in their own royal robes, with crowns, stars, orders, and regal finery. Among the historical groups is one of Henry VIII. and his family. The exhibition is still kept up in the largest saloon in Europe, more than forty persons being kept constantly employed in the care of it.