In the Georgian days the cutting of animals, landscapes, groups, and single profiles was the fashionable pastime of a large number of amateurs. Girl-friends cut for each other mementos in black paper or in white; these were then gummed on to a black or coloured ground. They vied with each other in cutting some clever little piece of scissor-work, which, for safe storage, would be placed in an album or scrap-book. Sometimes the little cutting is found gummed in amongst tiny steel engravings, some Bartolozzi tickets, a treasured sheet of music, or wreaths and scraps of faded flowers. The fragrance of such a collection does not lie only in the shrivelled rose or violet leaves; there is an aroma of sentiment, a reminder of those past days when everyone had leisure and the polite elegances of the little arts had full sway.

The cuttings usually show groups of children, reminding us of Buck’s work of contemporary date; or of animals, sometimes alone, and sometimes set in a landscape of such elaboration that one wonders how so great an effect can be packed into the two square inches of paper, which is often the size of the complete silhouette picture. It would be unusual to find so much and such accurate detail in a pen-and-ink drawing; the fact that the picture is cut out with a pair of scissors or a penknife makes it the more extraordinary.

Many professional portrait cutters also cut landscapes, animals, groups of flowers, and other trifles, notably Patience Wright, who accomplished much fine work of this kind, as well as her lovely portraits.

J. Gapp, who worked on the Chain Pier at Brighton, advertised pieces suitable for ladies’ scrap-books. At the end of his trade label are the following words:—“N.B.—A variety of interesting small cuttings for ladies’ scrap-books.” The label from which we take the words is on a full-length profile portrait of a boy in the old Eton School dress.

Much black shade cutting was done at the Court of George III., both in profile portraiture and also in fancy groups and landscapes. Queen Charlotte was an ardent collector, and delighted to have her own portrait taken in shadow, if we can judge by the very large number of pictures of this type which have come down to us. King George III. was no less enthusiastic, and must have sat to every profilist of the day, both professional and amateur. In most of these silhouette portraits the vitality is clearly seen in this “German Princelet of his day,” as Lord Rosebery’s inimitable description has it. The character of the Princelet is as plain to see as if the veritable embodiment of His Majesty were before us, and not alone his shadow picture.

We can imagine that the whole of the Court entourage would feel or assume an interest in the pastime beloved of the royal mistress, the king, and their artistic daughters, whose story one thinks of with mingled feelings of sympathy and interest. Their fair faces on the canvases of Gainsborough, Hoppner, and Beechey haunt us as they gaze from the walls of the royal residences. How each of the six girls must have thought of the suitors which were so long in coming! Their graceful and gracious young days sped away, only half filled by the mild excitements of Court life, with their embroidery, their pencil, brush, and scissor work, cutting the portrait of Fanny Burney, or admiring the family group of the Burney family, and imitating with their amateur scissor-work the elegant curtains and tassels of the professional cutter’s background. Perhaps they showed their efforts to Mrs. Delany, who was living so near to them at Windsor, and had herself been cut by a professional profilist with so great success—the dainty goffered cap with its becoming chin-strap, and a love-knot and wreath are beneath the picture. Did their parents dread the unstable glories of Continental courts for their girls in those revolutionary days? The prudent Queen Charlotte would shudder to think of a repetition of the disastrous Danish marriage of her husband’s young sister, and King George would try to shield his golden-haired girls from such a loveless match as that of his eldest sister, Augusta, to the Duke of Brunswick.

It was Princess Elizabeth, born May 22nd, 1770, whose artistic talents were most marked; she studied with her pencil and brush under various masters until she attained great proficiency. There is a charming portrait of her painted by Edridge, engraved in mezzotint by S. W. Reynolds, Engraver to the King. She is shown pencil in hand, her sketch-book on her knee; her turban, which would be of correct fashion for the present day, only half hides her fair curled hair. Her diaphanous gown is not specially becoming to her ample shape, already showing signs of the enormous proportions she afterwards attained. Fine octagon-shaped brooches adorn her sleeves and breast, a thin scarf is laid over her chair, and on the writing bureau is a work basket, flower vase, and inkstand.

The dedication of the picture runs thus: “Her Royal Highness the Landgravine of Hesse Homburg, dedicated by Permission to His Most Gracious Majesty, William IV., by His Majesty’s devoted Subject and Servant, Edward Harding, Librarian to Her Late Gracious Majesty Queen Charlotte, May 21st, 1830.” Published by E. Hardy, 13, Rochester Terrace, Pimlico.

It was long after irreverent courtiers had ceased to think of the princess as anything but a confirmed spinster that the Prince of Hesse Homburg, of whose person and manners the caustic Creevy paints a very unattractive picture, appeared on the scene, and considerable mirth greeted the news of her engagement at the mature age of 47. The fact that the princess was severely criticised by a censorious world for quitting her aged and dying mother, and that as Landgravine of Hesse Homburg her good qualities were displayed to great advantage, do not concern us here, where we are chiefly concerned in her industry and artistic talents. These were evidently more marked in her than in any other member of her family, and we have read that many of her silhouettes were engraved and published, but we have not been able to trace any of these reproductions.

That the small and very charming single figures or groups were frequently given as souvenirs is certain, for on a specimen we have examined there is an inscription, “H.R.H. Princess Elizabeth was pleased to give me (Lady Bankes) at Windsor, August 27th, 1811, where I had the honour of seeing her by chance.”

Lady Dorothy Nevill is the owner of a most interesting relic of this favourite pastime of a royal princess. It is the original scrap-book given by Princess Elizabeth to her friend, and is filled with every variety of cutting executed by the princess herself. The book is of dark blue morocco leather, 9 inches by 6 inches in size. On its silver lock and clasp is the initial of the royal donor, and between the pages are the little gem cuttings, a selection of which we are able to reproduce here. Many varieties of silhouette cutting are shown; none of the specimens are gummed into the book, or, if they have been, the mucilage has perished. Faint pencil notes head the pages, and the cuttings are placed separately between the leaves. Some of the groups are cut out in black paper; some, notably the shadow perforation type, are in white paper; and some are painted in Indian ink and then cut out. The groups of children playing are most animated; there is real movement in the baby toddling downstairs held by ribbon strings by its nurse.

The portraits of Queen Charlotte and King George III., the parents of the artist, are naturally of great interest. These have a note on the page in which they lie that they were taken in the year 1792. They are drawn in Indian ink, and not cut, and those who have had occasion to examine the profiles of the king and queen will at once see that Princess Elizabeth was proficient in catching a likeness. There are two other bust portraits of George III. in this interesting scrap-book, and a full-length picture in black profile, in which the stiff coat-tails and dangling court sword or rapier are admirably portrayed.

The cutting of the shadow perforation pictures seem to have been an agreeable variety in scissor-work. These strange silhouettes were so cut that, on holding a light at a particular angle behind the picture, a shadow was cast by it which resembled some special character or object group. Thus the head of Christ is thrown in shadow upon any white surface when the strange-looking mask is held up between the candle and the board; the child on the rocking-horse is arranged for the same effect, which thus reverses the shadow portraiture of long ago.

In the Victoria and Albert Museum there is a large portfolio with examples of scissor-work and black portraiture. Amongst the specimens are many of the perforated shadow-throwing type, some well-known pictures being thus reproduced. They were bequeathed by the Rev. Chauncey Hare Townshend, and consist of shadow and silhouette pictures and portraits “done by C. H. Townshend and his family.” This donor also bequeathed many paintings to the Museum. Little groups, such as “A Child and a Goat,” “Children Playing,” “A Lady holding up a Child,” give glimpses into the domestic scenes it was considered pleasing to portray in silhouette. Some of these are done by Charlotte Townshend; some by other members of the family. There is no very great interest attaching to these amiable records of a bygone day.

“Copied by Mrs. Wigston from Lady Templetown’s designs” gives us an insight into the part played by those not sufficiently skilful to originate but who, by copying, could take their share in the fashionable pastime.

The late Andrew W. Tuer, who was keenly interested in the subject of silhouettes, wrote thus in Notes and Queries concerning silhouettes of children:—“Much should I like to know who designed and cut out in black paper a remarkably clever series of about eighty minute silhouettes of child life, mainly groups. They are loosely placed in a book of blank leaves bound in contemporary citron morocco, lettered on the front ‘M. G.’ To some the artist has written a verse, and to others a date—the earliest 1796, the latest 1806. Inferentially, the work is that of gentlefolk. Between two of the leaves is a piece of black paper, on the reverse or white side being written ‘J. Poulett, Twickenham, Middlesex,’ and on another piece of paper the name ‘Lucy’ is cut out in silhouette.”

Later Mr. Tuer wrote:—“From the Earl Poulett I gather that these interesting and clever silhouettes were probably the handiwork of the first wife, whose initials were A. L., of the fourth Earl Poulett, of Poulett Lodge, Twickenham. What the initials M. G. stand for his lordship does not know.

“Andrew W. Tuer.

“The Leadenhall Press, E.C.”

Though more a note-book than a scrap-book, an interesting relic of the laborious methods of Lavater must be mentioned here. This volume, which is one of the chief treasures of the Wellesley collection, is a small leather-bound book, in which the philosopher pasted the silhouette portraits of those persons whose heads he wished to measure, study, and compare with others in his collection, and then to pronounce judgment upon as to their mental and moral qualities. The fact that Goëthe was for a time enthusiastic with regard to Lavater’s work casts a glamour over the little book, with its many pictures and vast store of minutely written notes.

Another album, which is also in Mr. Wellesley’s collection, is most elaborate. Each page has a finely wrought border, in the centre of which is pasted the silhouette portrait of a friend; the male sex is largely in the majority, but a few women’s profiles are included. We cannot imagine a more charming souvenir of an interesting circle of friends than such a shadow pageant. Old comrades would be brought to remembrance through the extraordinarily vivid personal touch that the silhouette picture retains; friends almost forgotten seem to rise up in the memory as we handle their black profile portrait, for there is a direct appeal in outline, which is more profound than when contour blurs the recollection.

In examining such a collection, one cannot help being interested in the very great variety of wigs—no two are alike; long and short queues, large and small ribbons, coquettish curls, majestic rolls, are shown amongst the men’s profiles, till we are bewildered with the variety, and cease to wonder that all kinds of fanciful names were given by the beaux of the day to the special hair-dressing they affected.

No less remarkable is the head-dressing of the ladies, and the elaboration of the curls and coifs is only eclipsed by the intricacy of the flowers, feathers, bows of ribbon gauze and taffeta with which the great erections are garnished. Even when there is no gilt pencilling to throw up the detail, the effect is marvellously interesting; and, for this reason alone, the old black shadow collections make a very absorbing study.

An extraordinarily interesting collection of upwards of one hundred and fifty is in a narrow folio volume in paper cover, dated 1804. Religious processions and ceremonies, rural and domestic scenes and children’s games, are cut with the utmost delicacy and mounted on white paper. Here are a few of the subjects:—Carrying the Host to a sick person at Nice; Cleaning Shoes in Paris; Drinking the Waters at Wiesbaden; Gathering Apples near Paris; Sprinkling Clothes at Bergen; Procession on Palm Sunday; Procession of the Virgin Mary; Jewish Wedding; The Pope carried round St. Peter’s; A Fish-market; Wine-making; and a dozen other complicated scenes. All are depicted with wonderful accuracy. This important collection has now unfortunately left England.

Another interesting little scrap-book of yellow paper, bound in calf, contains the portraits of—the King (George III.); Edw. King, Esq.; Mrs. King; Mrs. Carter, the translator of Epictetus; Tiberius Cavallo, Esq.; Mrs. Fiere, mother of the Rt. Hon. S. H. Fiere; Baron Rechausen, Swedish Minister; Madame Rechausen; two favourites; Miss H. Randall; Warren Hastings, Esq., Governor-General of India; General Paoli. Some of these are in Indian ink, some in cut paper.