Women artists in all ages and countries

by E. F. Ellet

ANGELICA KAUFFMAN.

Maria Anna Angelica Kauffman was born in Coire, the capital of the Grisons, in 1741. Her father, the painter Johann Joseph Kauffman, had been called to that place from Schwartzenberg on the Boden-See, by the bishop’s appointment, to paint church pictures. He married there, and remained till 1742, before removing to Morbegno in Lombardy.

An only child, Angelica’s early years were tended by the care of loving parents; and the grandeur and beauty of nature around her home, the vine-clad hills and wild forests of her native land, the blue waters and bright scenery she was accustomed to contemplate in Italy, impressed her susceptible imagination, and awakened in her youthful breast a quick and joyous sympathy with nature. Though not specially intended by her father for the artist’s calling, the early impulse of genius led her to painting, and she was permitted to follow the bent of her inclination with such direction only as made the work appointed her seem like a pleasant recreation. She preferred her lessons, in fact, to any amusement. Very different was the early training of this gentle spirit to that of Raphael Mengs, compelled to labor under strict rules; and though Angelica afterward adopted the style of this celebrated German master, hers differed in the possession of a light and charming grace, which could only have been derived from her native endowments and the free indulgence of her tastes.

At the age of nine this child of genius was much noticed on account of her wonderful pastel pictures. When her father left Morbegno, in 1752, to reside in Como, she found greater scope for her ingenious talent, and better instruction in that city; and, in addition to her practice with the brush and pencil, she devoted herself to studies in general literature and in music. Her proficiency in the latter was so rapid, and the talent evinced so decided, besides the possession of a voice unusually fine, that her friends, a few years afterward, urged that her life should be devoted to music. She was herself undecided for some time to which vocation she should consecrate her powers. In one of her pictures she represents herself standing, in an attitude of hesitation, between the allegorical figures of Music and Painting. Her love for the latter gained the ascendency; and so great was her success, while yet of tender age, that her portrait of a steward of the Bishop of Como gained her a number of profitable orders.

The exquisite natural scenery by which Angelica was at this time surrounded, in a home on the borders of the loveliest lake in the world, had a genial influence on her feelings, and the time passed there was the happiest of her life. She is said to have painted the portrait of the Archbishop of Como, at a very early age. At a later period she recurs with pleasure to the years passed in this charming abode.

“You ask, my friend,” she says, in one of her letters, “why Como is ever in my thoughts? It was at Como that, in my most happy youth, I tasted the first real enjoyment of life. I saw stately palaces, beautiful villas, elegant pleasure-boats, a splendid theatre. I thought myself in the midst of the luxuries of fairyland. I saw the urchin, too, young Love, in the act of letting fly an arrow pointed at my breast; but I, a maiden fancy free, avoided the shaft, and it fell harmless. After the lapse of years,” she proceeds, “the genius that presides over my destiny led me again into this delicious region, where I tasted the delights of friendship with the charms of nature, and listened with deeper joy than ever to the murmur of waves on that unrivaled shore. One day I was walking with agreeable company around one of the most beautiful villas near the lake. In the shadow of a wood I again saw the youthful god slumbering. I approached him. He awakened, looked at me, and, recognizing her who had contemned his power, sprang up suddenly, intent on swift revenge. He pursued me, the arrow sped once more, and but by a hair’s breadth failed to reach my heart.”

All too quickly, indeed, passed the two years of her first residence in Como; and it was with poignant regret that she left her beloved home, when, in 1754, her father went to settle his family in Milan.

Even this dreaded change, however, was a fortunate one; for it seemed to be appointed that Angelica’s youth should glide away like a stream in the sunshine of happiness. A new world of wonders opened to her view in this city, where she saw works of art surpassing in merit those she had yet beheld. She had copied antique models in her drawing, and the engravings of pictures by the early masters which were among her father’s treasures. Here she was first introduced to an acquaintance with works of great beauty and importance in the history of art. Here Leonardo da Vinci had labored, and founded a school in which are still conspicuous the gentle dignity, purity, and elevation that live in his creations. The impressions received from her contemplation of the productions of the most famous of the Lombard masters, and the care with which she studied them till her own style became imbued with their spirit, decisively influenced the professional career of the young artist.

The change had a not less favorable effect upon her worldly circumstances. Her copies of some pictures found in the palace of Robert d’Este, Duke of Modena and Governor of Milan, induced him to declare himself her patron, and led to her introduction to the Duchess of Carrara. After she had painted by command the portrait of that princess, she received orders for a number of pictures for other ladies of rank.

The associations to which this success gave rise contributed to give the youthful painter that self-possession and dignity of manner, combined with a quiet modesty most becoming her age and sex, which afterward marked her deportment in elevated circles of society.

Thus the few years of Kauffman’s residence in this favored Italian city were productive of manifold advantages to his daughter. The death of his wife determined him to another removal, and he went to undertake a great work in his native city of Schwarzenberg. In this enterprise Angelica was of essential service, having for the first time an opportunity of engaging in an enterprise of magnitude, and of a kind not often practiced by women. She painted in fresco the figures of the Twelve Apostles after copper engravings from Piazetta.

It has been said that the time spent in this country at this period by the young artist was in the home of her father’s brother, an honest “farmer, in comfortable though narrow circumstances. At first, Angelica, accustomed to the wonders of art and the splendor of Italian cities, could scarcely bring herself to endure this homely mode of existence. The rude manners of those by whom she was surrounded—the utter want of elegance or taste—displeased and disgusted her. Gradually, however, as habit softened down these first impressions, the poetic side of the picture dawned upon her mind. She learned to love the homely simplicity of that hospitable dwelling, with its gabled front and narrow windows—the gloom and solitude of those dark pine forests, through which the sunbeams could scarcely penetrate, and ceased to long for the marble palaces of Milan and the orange-groves of Como. Besides, she had little time for idle regrets, the interior decoration of a church in the neighborhood being intrusted to her father and herself. Her success in an undertaking so difficult excited considerable attention.”

After the completion of this work, which won the enthusiastic appreciation of the Bishop of Constance, a season of disquiet followed, with frequent changes of residence and a crowding of commissions, while the artist in vain longed for an opportunity to revisit the depository of art treasures—Italy. To fulfill this wish, and complete her artistic education, Angelica first returned with her father to Milan, and thence went to Florence, where she threw herself with restless zeal into the study of the great master-pieces in which that city is so rich. Her performances already met with the appreciation that was afterward testified by the admission of her portraits into the collection there made of original paintings by artists of celebrity. Cardinal de Roth called her to Constance for his portrait.

Yet even Florence was regarded by her only as a place of preparatory study; the great goal of her ambition was Rome. Thither she went in 1763, and her usual good fortune followed her. She went through a course of perspective the following year. The immortal Winkelmann was then in the midst of his great work of breathing new life into ancient art, and it was his delight to interpret the inspiration for others, and to promote social intercourse and a good understanding among artists.

It was not long ere the youthful votary became acquainted with this great man. It was beautiful to see the friendship that subsisted between this girl of eighteen, in the fresh bloom of life, and the experienced man of sixty, who had spent so many years of labor in his profession: she brilliant and ardent, full of hope and enthusiasm—his brow furrowed with study and reflection; both inspired by the same spirit; both having felt the same ardent desire to visit the Eternal City.

Angelica found both pleasure and profit in Winkelmann’s society, always in the company of her friend, the wife of Raphael Mengs. A portrait of him, painted by her at this time, and afterward engraved by her, amply proved, by its excellent likeness, vivid coloring, and vigorous touch, and, above all, by its spiritual expression, how thoroughly she had comprehended the spirit of the greatest disciples of art. Winkelmann announced to his friends, not without evident satisfaction, that his portrait had been painted “by a young and beautiful woman.”

Ere long, a command to copy some paintings in the royal gallery at Naples called her to that city, so favored by the beauty of its situation and the charm of its climate. Here she gained new ideas in the contemplation of numerous master-pieces of old time, as well as a rich reward for her labors in executing orders from many persons of rank. Her abode in that soft, luxurious clime, surrounded by nature’s loveliness, did not, however, enervate her character, nor impair the freshness and naiveté of her style.

In 1764 we find her again in Rome. Here she passed a year in the prosecution of her studies, including architecture and perspective, continuing her friendship with Winkelmann. Her observations of Italian art were completed by studies of the works of the Caracci in Bologna, and Titian, Tintoretto, and Paul Veronese in Venice. In the last-mentioned city Angelica made the acquaintance of an English lady—the accomplished Lady Wentworth, wife of the British resident—who afterward took her to London.

During her stay in Naples she had been received into relations of intimacy with several noble English families, and had taken their orders for paintings. It was thought that in London a more distinguished and more lucrative success would be commanded than she could hope for in a country so rich in artistic achievements as Italy. This was in truth the case; and after Angelica had passed through Paris, availing herself of its advantages, to London, she found open to her a career of brilliant success, productive of much pecuniary gain. Her talents and winning manners raised her up patrons and friends among the aristocracy. Persons attached to the court engaged her professional services; and the most renowned painter in England, Sir Joshua Reynolds, was of the circle of her friends. It is said he offered her his hand, and I have been told by Mr. Robert Balmanno, who knew Fuseli personally, that he was one of her suitors. She was numbered among the painters of the Royal Society, and received the rare honor, for a woman, of an appointment to a professorship in the Academy of Arts in London, being, meanwhile, universally acknowledged to occupy a brilliant position in the best circles of fashionable society.

A writer in the Westminster Review gives a romantic account of an incident that led to the greatest misfortune of Angelica’s life:

“It was in early girlhood, while traveling with her father through Switzerland to their native land, that she first beheld the man who was to exercise so fatal an influence on her destiny. Angelica was then only in her seventeenth year, her dawning talents had already attracted considerable attention, but as both father and daughter were poor, they were compelled to travel on foot, resting at night at the little inns by the wayside. One evening, when, wearied with the long day’s journey, they entered a humble house of entertainment, they were informed by the landlord that they must go farther, for a couple of “grand seigneurs,” just arrived, had engaged all the rooms for themselves and their suite. The weary travelers insisted on their right to remain, and the debate was growing warm, when one of the gentlemen for whose accommodation they were rejected made his appearance, and with great politeness begged them to enter the dining-room and share their repast. The good Kauffman, whose frank, confiding nature was always a stranger to suspicion, at once consented, despite the whispered entreaties of his daughter, who, with the intuitive perception of her sex, had discerned something offensive beneath the polished courtesy of their inviter. She was not mistaken; at the table Lord E—— soon forgot the respect due to youth and innocence, and attempted some liberty. Angelica indignantly repulsed it, and on its repetition, rising hastily from the table, drew her father with her, and instantly left the house.”

Years afterward, while Angelica was living in England—“welcomed with enthusiasm, sought by the noblest and most gifted in the land, when all seemed to smile upon her path, in a fatal hour she again lighted on the man whose undisguised libertinism had so deeply wounded her modesty ten years before. It was in the midst of a brilliant circle, where all the beaux esprits of London were assembled, that they again met. Lord E—— had long since lost every trace of her, and great was his amazement to recognize in the elegant woman and celebrated artist the humble little pedestrian of the Swiss mountains. If he had thought her charming then, how much more lovely did she seem to him now; his heart and fancy were alike inflamed, and he resolved that this time, at least, she should not escape him. Feigned repentance for the past, assurances of unselfish devotion which sought for nothing in return save the friendship and esteem of its object, flattery, insinuation, all were employed. Angelica, trusting and guileless, believed him; nor was it till, fancying himself secure of triumph, he threw off the mask, that she even suspected his baseness. Equally shocked and indignant, she would no longer admit him to her society.

“This only stimulated his passions. Perhaps he thought it a pretext to lure him to more honorable offers; at all events, despairing of winning the prize by any other means, he laid his rank and title at her feet. But Angelica was no Pamela to receive with humble gratitude the hand of him who had insulted her virtue. Her mild but resolute refusal stung him to madness. If what some of her biographers assert be true, he forced himself into her presence, and sought by violence that which no entreaties could win; but here, too, he failed. The rumor of his worthless conduct got abroad, and he found it most convenient to leave England for a time, vowing revenge. The subsequent portion of the story is well known.”

Others say it was an English painter, who, out of jealousy of the talents of Angelica, instigated to his base plot the man who deceived her. Be that as it may, she was undoubtedly the victim of a conspiracy arranged with no less malignity than art. It was a counterpart to the story of the Lady of Lyons; a rejected suitor vowing revenge, and using as his instrument to obtain it a man very different in character from the noble Claude.

A low-born adventurer, who assumed the name of a gentleman of rank and character—that of his master, Count Frederic de Horn—played a conspicuous part at that time in London society, and was skillful enough to deceive those with whom he associated. He approached our artist, who was then about twenty-six, and in the bloom of her existence. He paid his respects as one who rendered the deepest homage to her genius; then he passed into the character of an unassuming and sympathizing friend. Finally, he appealed to her romantic generosity by representing himself as threatened with a terrible misfortune, from which she only could save him by accepting him as her husband. A sudden and secret marriage he averred was necessary.

Poor Angelica, who had shunned love on the banks of Como, and under the glowing skies of Italy; and since her coming to London had rejected many offers of the most advantageous alliance, that she might remain free to devote herself to her art, was caught in the fine-spun snare, and yielded to chivalrous pity for one she believed worthy of her heart’s affection. The marriage was celebrated by a Catholic priest, without the formality of writings, and without witnesses.

Angelica had received commissions to paint several members of the royal family and eminent personages of the court, and her talents had procured her the favorable notice of the Queen of England. One day, while she was painting at Buckingham Palace, her majesty entered into conversation with her, and Angelica communicated to her royal friend the fact of her marriage. The queen congratulated her, and sent an invitation to the Count de Horn to present himself at court. The impostor, however, dared not appear so openly, and he kept himself very close at home, for he well knew that it could not be long before the deception would be discovered.

At length the suspicions of Angelica’s father, to whom her marriage had been made known, led him to inquiries, which were aided by friends of influence. About this time, some say, the real count returned, and was surprised at being frequently congratulated on his marriage. Then came the mortifying discovery that the pretended count was a low impostor. The queen informed Angelica, and assured her of her sympathy.

The fellow had been induced to seek the poor girl’s hand from motives of cupidity alone, desiring to possess himself of the property she had acquired by her labors. He now wished to compel her to a hasty flight from London. Believing herself irrevocably bound to him, Angelica resolved to submit to her fate; but her firmness and strength of nature enabled her to evade compliance with his requisition that she should leave England, till the truth was made known to her—that he who called himself her husband was already married to another woman still living. This discovery made it dangerous for the impostor to remain in London, and he was compelled to fly alone, after submitting unwillingly to the necessity of restoring some three hundred pounds obtained from his victim, to which he had no right.

The false marriage was, of course, immediately declared null and void. These unhappy circumstances in no way diminished the interest and respect manifested for the lady who, in plucking the rose of life, had been so severely wounded by its thorns; on the contrary, she was treated with more attention than ever, and received several unexceptionable offers of marriage. But all were declined; she chose to live only for her profession.

One of Angelica’s biographers pronounces her “proof against flattery.” Nollekens, on the other hand, accused her of having been a coquette in her youth. While at Rome, before her marriage, he said she was extremely fond of personal admiration. “One evening she took her station in one of the most conspicuous boxes of the theatre, accompanied by two artists, both of whom, as well as many others, were desperately enamored of her. She had her place between her two adorers; and while her arms were folded before her in front of the box over which she leaned, she managed to press a hand of both, so that each imagined himself the cavalier of her choice.”

After fifteen years’ residence in England, when the physician who attended her suffering father advised return to Italy, and the invalid expressed his fear of dying and leaving her unprotected, Angelica yielded to his entreaties, and bestowed her hand upon the painter Antonio Zucchi.

This gentleman was born in Venice in 1728, and had worked there upon historical pieces. He afterward took to landscape-painting and architecture, and many of his designs were published in learned works of the day. Being induced to go to England, he obtained an excellent place, and won the warm friendship of Mr. Kauffman. The marriage with his daughter took place in 1781, and proved a most happy one, undisturbed by any untoward occurrence till the death of Zucchi.

Angelica, with her husband and her father, now returned to the sunny south. Stopping in Schwarzenberg to visit their relatives, they proceeded to Italy, settling themselves for a prolonged stay. In January of the following year Kauffman expired in the arms of his loving child.

The wedded pair, anxious to escape from the shadow of this sorrow, hastened to Rome, where they fixed their permanent abode, paying only a few visits to Naples at the command of the royal family. Their house was the centre of attraction to the artistic and literary society of that capital of art; and Madame Zucchi did the honors and dispensed hospitalities with a grace peculiarly her own, without losing a particle of her energy in the prosecution of her painting, or any portion of the love for it that had distinguished her early years. This may account for the uniform individuality discernible in her productions, in the merits and defects of which may be traced the peculiarities of her nature and training.

In Rome, Angelica became acquainted with Goethe, Herder, and other great men who at different times visited the Eternal City. Goethe says of her in one of his letters, “The good Angelica has a most remarkable, and, for a woman, really unheard-of talent; one must see and value what she does and not what she leaves undone. There is much to learn from her, particularly as to work, for what she effects is really marvelous.” And in his work entitled “Winkelmann and his Century,” he observes concerning her: “The light and pleasing in form and color, in design and execution, distinguish the numerous works of our artist. No living painter excels her in dignity, or in the delicate taste with which she handles the pencil.”

At the same time she has been thought deficient in strength of outline, variety and force of touch; her coloring has been said to lack depth and warmth; while all acknowledge her grace, sweetness, and delicacy, and the freedom and ease, with the correctness and elegance of her drawing. Her works have been justly called “light and lovely May-games of a charming fantasy.”

Among her character-pictures have been noted particularly “Allegra” and “Penserosa,” and fancy portraits of Sappho and Sophonisba, with the goddesses of Grecian mythology; also figures and scenes from the modern poets, such as the delicate and bewitching Una, from Spenser’s “Faery Queen,” and simple allegorical representations. These last were favorite subjects with her, and were taken both from classic and romantic history, as “Venus and Adonis,” “Rinaldo and Armida,” “The Death of Heloise,” “Sappho inspired by Love,” etc. The praise can not be denied her of having essentially aided the progress of modern art, without parting with any portion of her feminine reserve and purity. Her pictures, with Mengs’s writings, helped to liberate painting from the exclusive school of Carlo Maratti.

Among her best compositions have been noted “Leonardo da Vinci Dying in the arms of Francis I.;” “The Return of Arminius”—painted for Joseph II.—“The Funeral Pomp of Pallas;” and “The Nymph Surprised,” covering herself hastily with a white veil. In painting portraits, she had the habit of waiting, before sketching, to seize on some favorite attitude or expression. She understood the effects of clare-obscure, and took care to avoid confusion in her figures. Her draperies were designed with taste, and not superfluous.

An amateur once said to her, “Your angels could walk without deranging their robes.”

She was in the habit of throwing on paper her reflections, and preserving the souvenirs. The following words were written on one of her pictures:

“I will not attempt to express supernatural things by human inspiration, but wait for that till I reach heaven, if there is painting done there.”

Art to her had been as the breath of life, and labor her greatest delight. They continued to be so, even when, crowned with fame, she was the centre of an admiring circle in the best society of Rome. Zucchi, in the hope of beguiling her from too assiduous application, purchased a beautiful villa—Castle Gandolfo—for their residence; but Angelica could not bear to be long distant from Rome. Strangers who came to the city were soon attracted to pay their respects to the lovely artist; and in the companionship of the great and gifted, either in her own circle, or with friends like Klopstock and Gessner—who have highly praised her genius—she exercised an influence that did not fail to promote the growth of literary and artistic cultivation.

De Rossi says: “It was interesting to see Angelica and her husband before a picture. While Zucchi spoke with enthusiasm, Angelica remained silent, fixing her eloquent glance on the finest portions of the work. In her countenance one could read her feelings, and her observations were always limited to a few brief words. These, however, seldom expressed any blame; only the praises of that which was worthy of praise. It belonged to her nature to be struck by the beautiful alone, as the bee draws only honey out of every flower.”

Raphael Mengs pronounced upon her a flattering eulogium. “As an artist,” he says, “she is the pride of the female sex in all times and all nations. Nothing is wanting; composition, coloring, fancy, all are here.” But he was her friend, and wrote thus while the recollection of her charms and virtues were fresh in his memory.

Fuseli, who was honored by her friendship, was a more severe judge. He says, he “has no wish to contradict those who make success the standard of genius, and, as their heroine equals the greatest names in the first, suppose her on a level with them in power. She pleased, and desired to please, the age in which she lived and the race for which she wrought. The Germans, with as much patriotism, at least, as judgment, have styled her the Paintress of Minds (Seelen Mahlerin); nor can this be wondered at for a nation who, in A. R. Mengs, flatter themselves that they possess an artist equal to Raphael.

“The male and female characters of Angelica never vary in form, feature, or expression from the favorite ideal in her own mind. Her heroes are all the man to whom she thought she could have submitted, though him, perhaps, she never found. Her heroines are herself, and, while suavity of countenance and alluring graces shall be able to divert the general eye from the sterner demands of character and expression, can never fail to please.”

The lighter scenes of poetry were painted by her with a grace and taste entirely her own, and happily formed, withal, to meet that of an engraver, whose labors contributed to the growth and perpetuity of her fame. This was Bartolozzi, whose talents were in great part devoted to her.

One feels naturally desirous of knowing something about the personal appearance of one so much admired. Her portrait, painted by herself, the size of life, is in the Pitti Gallery at Florence, with that of two other female artists; and the three attract the attention of every visitor.

The following is the description of one spectator: “The first in feature and expression bears the stamp of a masculine intellect; the touch is vigorous, the coloring has the golden tint of the Venetian school, but it presents no mark of individuality; this is Maria Robusti Tintoretto. The second can not be mistaken; even the most unpracticed eye would discern at a glance that it is a Frenchwoman—piquant, lively, graceful, evidently not so much engrossed with her art as to be insensible to admiration as a woman—this is the well-known Madame Le Brun. Opposite the fair Parisian is a third portrait, a woman still in the bloom of life, but destitute of all brilliancy of coloring, with an expression grave and pensive almost to melancholy. She is seated on a stone, in the midst of a solitary landscape, a portfolio with sketches in one hand, a pencil in the other. The attitude is unstudied almost to negligence. There is no attempt at display; you feel as you look on her that every thought is absorbed in her vocation. This is Angelica Kauffman.”

The quiet tenor of her life was broken up by the death of her husband in 1795. This domestic calamity was followed by political events that shook the world, and our artist suffered amid the universal agitation. She was much disquieted by the invasion of Italy by the French, though she found in her art both relief from care and a protection from the dread of poverty. General L’Espinasse exempted the house in which she lived from lodging soldiers, and offered her his services for her security and protection. But no kindness could restore her lost energy or bring back the cheerfulness that had once sustained her.

In 1802 Angelica was seized with illness, and on recovery was advised to travel for the strengthening of both her bodily and mental faculties, and for relief from the oppression of sadness that paralyzed even her love of art. She visited Florence, Milan, and Como, where she lingered with a melancholy pleasure amid the scenes of her youthful days. In Venice she staid to visit the family of her deceased husband. She then returned to Rome, where she was received by her friends with a jubilant welcome.

Her time passed thenceforward in her accustomed employments, and the society of those who loved her. Her health continued to decline, but her intellect remained bright and vigorous to the period of her death in November, 1807. Not long before she expired she requested her cousin by signs to read to her one of Gellert’s spiritual odes. In the midst of Italian life she was ever true to the German spirit; as, amid her more than masculine labors, she preserved her gentle, womanly nature. The news of her decease caused profound grief throughout Rome. All the members of the Academy of St. Luke assisted at her funeral; and, as at the obsequies of Raphael, her latest pictures were borne after her bier. Her remains were placed in the Church of St. Andrew della Fratte. Her bust was preserved in the Pantheon.

Her works are scattered all over Europe, and are to be found in Vienna, Munich, London, Florence, Rome, Paris, etc.

CHAPTER XII.
THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

Female Artists in the Scandinavian Countries.—In Sweden.—Ulrica Pasch.—Danish Women Artists.—A richer Harvest in the Netherlands.—The Belgian Sculptress.—Maria Verelst.—Her Paintings and Attainments in the Languages.—Residence in London.—Curious Anecdote.—Walpole’s Remark.—Women Artists in Holland.—Poetry.—Henrietta Wolters.—Her Portraits.—Invitation from Peter the Great.—Dutch Paintresses.—The young Engraver.—Caroline Scheffer.—Landscape and Flower Painters.—A Follower of Rachel Ruysch.—An Engraver.—In England.—Painting suited to Women.—Literary Ladies.—Effect of the Introduction of a new Manner in Art.—Numerous Dilettanti.—Female Sculptors.—Mrs. Samon.—Mrs. Siddons and others.—Mrs. Damer.—Aristocratic Birth.—Early love of Study and Art.—Horace Walpole her Adviser.—Conversation with Hume.—First Attempt at Modeling.—The Marble Bust and Hume’s Criticism.—Surprise of the gay World.—Miss Conway’s Lessons and Works.—Unfortunate Marriage.—Widowhood.—Politics.—Walpole’s Opinion of Mrs. Damer’s Sculptures.—Darwin’s Lines.—Sculptures.—Envy and Detraction.—Going abroad.—Escape from Danger.—Noble Ambition.—Return to England.—Politics and Kissing.—Private Theatricals.—The three Heroes.—Friendship with the Empress.—Walpole’s Bequest.—Parlor Theatricals, etc.—Removal.—Project for improving India.—Mrs. Damer’s Works.—Opinions of her.

From Germany we now turn to the northern countries, to the Netherlands, and England, to glance at their female artists of the eighteenth century.

Few are found among the Scandinavian nations. Female talent had greatly aided to bring about the rise of literature in Sweden, as in the instance of Charlotte Nordenflycht and Ulrica Widström by their lyric poems, and Maria Lenngren by her dramatic productions; but only one artist of merit appears—the painter Ulrica Frederika Pasch, who, in 1773, was elected a member of the Academy at Stockholm.

In Denmark, where many women cultivated the muses, gaining celebrity for lyric and dramatic productions, a flower-painter, C. M. Ryding, and an engraver on copper, Alexia de Lodde, may be mentioned, as well as Margaretta Ziesenis, who devoted herself to painting portraits and historical pieces, and was somewhat famous for her copies in miniature, such as that of Correggio’s Zingarella.

A much richer harvest opens in the Netherlands, in which the number of women pursuing art as a profession was not less than it had been in the preceding century. Among the Belgians the name of the sculptress Anna Maria von Reyschoot of Ghent must not be omitted.