Chats on Old Miniatures

Cosway must have come to London when of very tender years; for in 1755, being then only thirteen years old, he won a premium of fifteen guineas of the then newly constituted Society of Arts, for the best drawing of any kind by boys and girls under fourteen, and this promise of early success was followed by his being elected Associate of the Royal Academy when only twenty-nine, and full member two years later. The hard work that he went through in his early training, joined, no doubt, to what must have been natural facility of execution, gave him astonishing rapidity in his work, as to which Cunningham has observed: "He often finished miniatures at three sittings of half an hour each, and when he sat down to dinner would boast that he had despatched during the day twelve or fourteen sitters."

If this boast be even approximately true, he must indeed have been a prolific artist, and his annual production of miniatures be reckoned by the thousand. That there must be a vast number extant we may safely conclude when we remember the facility to which we have just referred, and the fact that his earliest contributions to the Academy were made when he was only twenty-six, and that he worked until half a century later, for he was eighty when he died.

But if, then, the existence must be allowed of an enormous number of miniatures by Cosway, to say nothing of those by his wife, of whom I shall speak later, what shall I say of the countless forgeries of this the most popular of all English miniature painters? What was the case in his day I do not know, but I am sure that there must be a never-ending host of copyists at work now, who devote themselves particularly to imitating the works of Cosway and his contemporaries. And here I cannot refrain from telling a little story apropos of what happens to these copies. It was told me by an artist who was present at an auction in certain well-known sale-rooms with a friend. By and by some so-called Cosways were put up and fetched very high prices, whereat the acquaintance expressed great satisfaction to my artist friend, and, in a burst of confidence said, "You know, I painted them myself."

Well-known historical characters, such as the Pompadour, Madame Du Barry, Marie Antoinette, the First Napoleon, the Empress Josephine, Madame Vigée le Brun, and the rest, whose name is legion, these are the favourite subjects of the copyist.

The late Dr. Propert, who owned a large collection himself, of by no means uniform quality, speaks feelingly on this subject. He says: "I am sorry to say that the French hold an unenviable pre-eminence for the production of spurious enamels and miniatures. It is really of some danger to attempt a collection of French specimens; many at once, no doubt, display the cloven hoof clearly enough to warn off even a novice, but I have seen some which would puzzle an expert. If any of these enterprising gentry get hold of a really old miniature, it matters not how time or exposure to light may have wrecked the once beautiful tints, the merest ghost suffices them; they will restore and paint it all over again with a subdued palette, and, like new wine artificially aged by the arts of the chemist, it presents itself in a guise which will take no denial."

This subject is one of very great importance to the collector, upon whose credulity the forgers appear to be able to reckon to any extent, and it is really remarkable the way in which people, who should know better, will bring out from their cabinets works to which they do not hesitate to attach some of the most eminent names to be found in the annals of the art of miniature painting. If only they have picked them up themselves, that appears to be one of the chief recommendations and guarantees of authenticity. It is the delight in a bargain, or what they are pleased to think is a bargain, that appears to have such a fascination for generation after generation of collectors. That this evil – for as such I regard it – is ever on the increase may be concluded from the fact of the increasing number of bric-à-brac shops in which one sees these forgeries displayed. I do not know what their owners say about these so-called old miniatures, and I do not wish necessarily to cast any stigma upon the vendors. I might go farther, and say that very often it seems as if the purchasers did not want to know the truth about these works. They like to think that their own astuteness and sound judgment, their sharp eye and keen nose for a bargain have enabled them to "pick up" (that is their favourite word) these treasures, upon such favourable terms, and to enrich their collection with gems which, unaccountable as it may seem, have quite escaped the notice of the general public and of the common or ordinary collector.

Talking of collections, it may be observed that Cosway himself was a great collector. His house, No. 1, Stratford Place, was full of costly works of art, of silks, china, and gems of bijouterie and vertu, in which he trafficked and dealt, and his wife, Maria, fully shared the painter's taste. I may here say something about this lady, who was in many ways a remarkable woman.

She was the daughter of an Irishman named Hadfield, who was an innkeeper at Leghorn. Maria was born in Florence, in 1759, and lived to be nearly as old as her husband. After studying art in Rome, she came to England, where she took up miniature painting as a profession. Her first contributions to the Royal Academy were in 1781, in which year Cosway married her, she being then twenty-two, of a blonde type of beauty, with soft blue eyes. She practised art in various forms. At Hardwicke, in the collection of the Duke of Devonshire, there is a really fine picture painted by her of the beautiful duchess as Cynthia, full length, in oils, life size. Allan Cunningham observed of this picture that when it was exhibited there was no little stir. The likeness was excellent, and its poetic feeling not unworthy of the poet (Spenser) whose work inspired it. At Longford Castle the Earl of Radnor has a full length, also in oils, of a lady of the family.

As to her miniatures, Cunningham says: "Almost the first time she was seen in public she was pointed out as the lady who had painted some of the most lovely miniatures in the Royal Academy," and he adds, "her reputation was made at once, for nothing was talked about but the great youth and the great talent of Mrs. Cosway. One half of the carriages that stopped at her husband's door contained sitters ambitious of the honours of her pencil." He says that the painter was too proud a man to permit his wife to paint professionally. But inexorable though he was in regard to painting, "he was more gentle in the matter of music, of which Maria was passionately fond, and he had a handsome house and good income and allowed her to indulge in those splendid nuisances called evening parties."

With a character so full of vanity and weakness as Cosway's was in some respects, it is not surprising to learn that, after twenty years of married life, incompatibility of temperament, as the phrase goes, developed between this ill-assorted pair, and at the beginning of the last century Mrs. Cosway was separated from her husband. In 1804 she retired to a religious house at Lyons, Cunningham says "owing to the death of her daughter." She was in London as late as 1821-2 selling her deceased husband's property, old miniatures and so forth, for Cosway had died whilst taking the air in 1821. Her final visit to England was in 1829, on a similar errand. She then retired to Italy, and founded a college at Lodi, near Milan, which grew into a religious house in connection with the order known as the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and here she died, in 1838.

She was known as the Baroness in Italy, the Emperor Francis of Austria having granted her a title. There is no doubt that Maria Cosway was a versatile and amiable woman and an artist of considerable ability. Although at one time separated from her husband, she nursed him in his declining years.

As to his character, Andrew Robertson, the miniature painter, although he terms him "the vainest creature in the world," says, "To me he behaved in the most liberal way"; and we have the valuable testimony of Ozias Humphrey, who was a rival miniature painter, that he was "the kindliest of friends." Another contemporary, William Hazlitt, says he was "bright and joyous." His pupil Andrew Plimer speaks of him as "my beloved master"; and, finally, we have the testimony of his wife, that he was "toujours gai."

Before leaving Cosway a few remarks may be offered upon his technique.

One of the first characteristics of his style is what has been termed a certain hothouse lusciousness. Although the bulk of his work consisted of portraits from life, whether it was that he did not attempt to make likeness a strong feature, or whether he could not help exaggerating the delicacy of his sitters' complexions, the size of their eyes, and giving them an air of artificiality, or whether it was the extreme rapidity of his method (he used, as we saw, to boast of having painted several portraits in a day) – whether it be to one or all of these reasons that we must attribute the style of Cosway, there it is, and so marked is it that, generally speaking and in the case of fine examples, at any rate, one cannot mistake it. The treatment of the hair is marked by breadth and peculiar freedom of handling, the backgrounds are commonly, but not always, an ultramarine blue (especially his early ones). The foregoing remarks apply to Cosway's miniatures upon ivory, but, as is well known, he by no means confined himself to those. Some of his most pleasing work took the form of full-length figures drawn in pencil with a very slight background, the draperies lightly drawn, but the face carefully finished, of which the George IV., given on p. 203, is a fine example. He also painted in oils.

The Plimers

Amongst the many surprising vicissitudes of the auction-room, the enhancement in value of the works of two of Cosway's pupils may here be mentioned. I refer to the prices that have been paid within the past few years for works by the brothers Andrew and Nathaniel Plimer (or Plymer, as the name is sometimes spelled). That the miniatures of these men, of whom Andrew was much the better artist, are pleasing – indeed, have something of the charm of Cosway – cannot be denied, but they are less well-drawn than his, the eyes, particularly, being exaggerated in size; the execution of the hair is certainly inferior to Cosway's, being stiff and wiry. In spite of this inferiority – which, I think, is apparent upon a careful comparison – miniatures which, a few years ago, could be bought for a few pounds now fetch as many hundreds. Despite some early struggles, I do not know that there is very much that need be said about these painters, beyond this posthumous rise in the value of their works. Redgrave, in his "Century of Painters," does not even mention them. In his "Dictionary of Artists" less than twenty lines are devoted to them.

The Plimers were born at Wellington, in Shropshire, where their father was a clockmaker, Nathaniel in 1757, Andrew, the younger, six years later. The elder brother exhibited at the Academy from 1787 to 1815, and died in 1822. Andrew contributed from 1786 to 1810 and again in 1819.

He died at Brighton, in 1837, aged seventy-four. In the obituary of the Gentleman's Magazine he is described as being, many years ago, an eminent miniature painter in Exeter.

A charming portrait of him by Geddes now hangs in the Scottish National Gallery.

There is a well-known group of three young girls, daughters of Sir John Rushout, sometimes called the Three Graces, on which much of Andrew Plimer's fame may be said to rest. It was sold with a lot of worthless odds-and-ends at a sale at Marlow Place, Great Marlow; the bidding began at half a crown, and left off at £315. The miniature was purchased, with others, from Mr. E. Joseph's collection for a very large sum, and has now gone, I believe, to New York.

John Smart

The mention of the enhancement of price which has been of late years witnessed in the case of eighteenth-century miniatures instinctively recalls the name of John Smart, who was born at Norwich in the same year as Cosway was born at Tiverton, namely, 1740. He must have been precocious, for he gained the Society of Arts premium when only fifteen. It was as a student at Shipley's, no doubt, that he made the acquaintance of Richard Cosway, and they became friends, the latter artist terming Smart, in letters, "little John," "faithful John," and so forth.

Smart became a fashionable miniaturist of his day, and, like Humphrey, went to India, where he remained five years. His son John followed his example in 1808, but died in India the following year. The portraits of Lord and Lady Clive given in this volume, belonging to the Earl of Powis, are probably due to Smart's visit to the East. His work in India may be identified by the letter "I" which is attached to his signature. He was a large contributor to the Exhibition of the Incorporated Society of Artists, of which he was made Vice-president.

I may remark, in passing, that an excellent, but little-known painter and somewhat eccentric character, namely, George Chinnery, R.A., also spent a great deal of time in the East Indies, where he practised his art for nearly fifty years, dying at Macao. There is a portrait of him in the National Portrait Gallery, painted by himself.

It would be difficult to over-praise the truth and beauty of Smart's work, although Cosway termed him "slow, and a bit washy." The last epithet sounds almost ludicrous to those who are familiar with Smart's manner of painting, which is finished almost to excess, and often resembles an enamel in appearance. Indeed, I possess a fair-complexioned man's head by him which might at first sight be taken for an enamel, so smooth is it in execution. But the absolute truth of the flesh-tints, scrupulous accuracy of the drawing of the features, and the harmonious beauty of the whole, make it a work of the highest art in its way, placing the artist in the very front rank of miniaturists. Moreover, these qualities distinguish all Smart's best work, and stamp him, in my opinion, as a greater artist than Cosway.

Ozias Humphrey

By the "cognoscenti," doubtless, the merit of Ozias Humphrey is recognised, but I think it may be safely said that by the general public his ability is certainly not estimated at its true value. Merit is, in fact, an inadequate term for the admirable draughtsmanship and beautiful colour of this true artist. The refinement, the self-restraint and sobriety of his work, the unobtrusive, careful, thorough finish, are perhaps those qualities most likely to escape the casual observer. For my own part I incline to place him in the front rank of English miniature painters, and amongst the very finest of them all. He may not have the luscious sweetness of Cosway at his best, but he is more uniformly excellent. His technique is far superior to the over-rated Plimer and is free from the mannerism and enamel-like smoothness of Smart.

Humphrey worked in India for rather less than three years – from 1785 to 1788; but ill-health forced him to return to England. In the British Museum is preserved a note-book containing memoranda by him and a few sketches; amongst other interesting entries by his own hand are particulars of portraits which he executed for Indian princes and Anglo-Indians. These show the prices he obtained. Thus, for the Governor-General he obtained 1,000 rupees; for Mrs. Sturt, 700; for Mrs. Hewitt, 1,000; for Miss Blair and Mrs. Keighley, 532 each; 1,000 for a whole length of Mrs. Trevor. In 1786 he was owed 6,600 rupees by native princes.

Ozias Humphrey was born at Honiton, in 1742. Probably his West Country origin had something to do with Sir Joshua Reynolds's friendship for him, and it was by the President's advice that he studied in the St. Martin's Lane School. After two years in London he returned home, owing to the death of his father. He then was placed under Samuel Collins, the miniature painter, at Bath, and lodged with Lindley, the musician.

Here, as a child, the future Mrs. Sheridan, the lovely original of Sir Joshua's Saint Cecilia, was wont to sing to Humphrey. Pecuniary difficulties drove Collins from Bath, and he established himself in Dublin, whereupon the young Humphrey, who was then but twenty-two, returned to London and settled in King Street, Covent Garden, not far from his patron, Sir Joshua Reynolds.

"With looks commercing with the skies,Her rapt soul sitting in her eyes,"

A purchase by George III. from an exhibition in Spring Gardens, two years later, was probably the commencement of Humphrey's success, and led to the King commissioning him to paint his Consort and members of the Royal Family. At Windsor, by the way, are three notable and beautiful miniatures by him of Queen Charlotte, all after Gainsborough, two of them representing her as quite young and not a little attractive. In one of them the likeness to an eminent living member of the Royal Family is very marked.

Doubtless Humphrey had ambition as an artist, and, accompanied by George Romney, he went to Italy in 1773, as all who could afford it did in those days.

Cumberland, the dramatist, celebrated the event by some indifferent verses; of the miniature painter he says:

"Crown'd with fresh roses, graceful Humphrey stands,While beauty grows immortal from his hands."

Romney returned sooner than Humphrey; a coolness sprang up between them, as to which Allan Cunningham makes Humphrey to blame, and rather ill-naturedly remarks that he was "a gossip and an idler." The same critic has observed that he, Humphrey, used to call and read the newspaper to Sir Joshua Reynolds, when, in his declining days, the great painter's eyesight failed – a misfortune destined to overtake the miniaturist himself a few years later.

After a four years' sojourn in Italy Humphrey returned to London and essayed oil-painting, exhibiting whole-lengths in the Academy, but without much success. Miniature painting was his forte, especially also the copying of other men's work in small, and at Knole may be seen many works of this nature.

George Engleheart

Some ten or twelve years later than the three eminent miniature painters we have been discussing was born George Engleheart, whose best work may often be placed almost on a level with theirs, but not always. He frequently exaggerates the eyes in his ladies' portraits, and his colour is often not agreeable, the flesh tints in his men's pictures being especially sallow. Engleheart, who lived at Kew, was of Silesian origin; he was a pupil of Sir Joshua Reynolds, and when only thirty-eight was made miniature painter to King George III., with whom he was a favourite. His fee book discloses that he must have painted nearly 5,000 miniatures, as he painted assiduously between 1775 and 1813, in some years finishing more than 200 per annum. He contributed to the Academy for nearly forty years.

For fidelity of likeness and sound workmanship I should incline to give preference to the male portraits of Engleheart, of which the example shown on p. 233 is a fair specimen.

Five thousand miniatures by one artist alone, of the fair women and brave men of his day, and how many of them are to be seen in our national collections?

At Hertford House, a solitary one, an unknown lady in a white head-dress; in the National Portrait Gallery, not one; at Kensington, three or four, and those not of superlative quality by any means, the excessive size of the head compared with the figure being a marked defect in two of them.

Three Miniatures of the Cobden Family

Mrs. Cobden Unwin enables me to reproduce in this volume three miniatures of the Cobden family. The father of Richard Cobden, the statesman, was William Cobden, of Dunford, Heyshott, Midhurst, Sussex. He was born at Dunford on September 30, 1775, and died at Droxford, Bishop's Waltham, Hants, on June 15, 1833. The miniature of him here reproduced is by W. Dudman. Dudman was a contributor to the Royal Academy of 1797, and it is possible that this miniature was his sole contribution, since it bears an inscription on the back in Latin to the effect that it was "out of the Royal Academy." Now, inasmuch as he exhibited but once, and that occasion was the same year as the date of the inscription I have just quoted, it seems to demonstrate that this was the identical miniature shown that year, although the name is not given in the catalogue.

William Cobden married Millicent Amber, whose portrait in her wedding dress is also here given. The painter of this is unknown, but the picture is very probably the work of Dudman, the two miniatures being much alike in colouring and treatment. Mrs. Cobden predeceased her husband by some eight years, dying at West Meon in Hampshire in 1825, aged 49.

The other member of the Cobden family whose portrait is given here is Richard Brooks Cobden, the son of the statesman. He was born at Manchester in 1841, the year his father was elected member for Stockport, in the very midst of the Anti-Corn-Law League agitation. He was sent to school on the Continent, and died at Weinheim, near Heidelberg, on April 6, 1856, thus being cut off on the threshold of life. The miniature here shown represents him when considerably younger, and I am unable to give the artist's name.

CHAPTER XI

SOME EARLY VICTORIAN ARTISTS

Andrew Robertson, his pupil Sir William Ross, Hayter, William Newton, and Robert Thorburn may be said to form a group of Victorian miniature painters, the last survivors of "the old guard," and men who mark a definite break in the practice of the art, for they painted down to the arrival of the enemy, namely photography.

This was a very momentous event in the history of miniature painting, and, at one time, seemed destined to put an end to the practice of the art entirely, leading Sir William Ross to say, "It is all up with miniature painting" and Thorburn to abandon the art altogether. For years after the carte de visite was introduced the number of miniature painters grew smaller and smaller, as did their contributions to the Academy.

Of the four above-named men, Robertson may first be dealt with. Andrew Robertson was a self-taught man, born at Aberdeen, in 1777. Besides being an artist, he was a first-rate violinist, and so ardent a musician that he was director of concerts in his native town at sixteen years of age. His energetic temperament led him to walk to London to see the exhibition of the Royal Academy, in 1801. Arrived in the metropolis, he was so fortunate as to attract the notice of Benjamin West, President of the Academy, who induced the young Scottish artist to remain in London, and sat to him for his portrait.

West's influence at Court at that time was great; it led to Royal patronage being extended to Robertson, who was made miniature painter to the Duke of Sussex. His reputation was now assured, and soon he obtained many pupils, of whom Sir William Ross was one. In 1841, after a career in London of forty years, he retired, when he was presented with a piece of plate, as "father of the profession." He died at Hampstead four years later. He was an actively charitable and industrious man. Those who wish to trace his career in more detail may do so in the pages of the "Letters and Papers of Andrew Robertson," published by his daughter, Miss Robertson, in 1895.

As to the works of this artist I do not count myself a great admirer of them, finding his colour rather crude, almost disagreeable. There is, however, a certain rugged force and honesty about his portraiture which perhaps compensate for the lack of charm and refinement. Mr. Jeffery Whitehead possesses (or did possess) a large collection of his works, many of which were shown at one of Messrs. Dickinson's loan exhibitions of miniatures some years ago. Miss Robertson, the writer to whom I have just referred has observed that "it is not generally known that at the close of the eighteenth century the multitude of inferior miniatures, and the failing powers or retirement of the eminent men [then] living threatened the extinction of this branch of arts. The small oval miniature developed into the cabinet picture, which culminated in the works of Hayter, Newton, and Thorburn and the delicate and beautiful works of Ross, my father's pupil from the age of fourteen and his dear friend through life."

As this present work is neither a history of miniature painting nor a dictionary of artists, I need not attempt to enumerate the numerous inferior miniature painters to whom reference is made in the above extract; but I may say a few words about some men who belong to this period, and whose names and works are often met with by the collector. Earliest amongst these was William Wood, a Suffolk man, born 1760. His work is distinguished at any rate by harmony of colour and correct drawing. He was President of the short-lived Society of Associated Artists and exhibited at the Academy for twenty years (from 1788 to the year of his death), contributing over a hundred portraits. I should place Thomas Hargreaves, born at Liverpool, in 1775, in much the same category as Wood. His father was a woollen draper, who articled his son as an assistant to Sir Thomas Lawrence. Hargreaves's work bears the impress of that master's style. He painted W. E. Gladstone and his sister as children.