LOUISA LANDER.
This young lady is a native of Salem, Massachusetts, and descended from some of the oldest and most respected families of that good old town. She is a daughter of Edward Lander and Eliza West, whose father was claimed as a relative, while on a visit to London, by Sir Benjamin West.
Mrs. Lander’s maternal grandfather, Elias Haskel Derby, sent the first American ship to India, giving the first impetus to our commerce with that country. His were the first American vessels seen at the Cape of Good Hope and the Isle of France. Captain Richard Derby, his father, was noted in the Revolutionary struggle. He bought and presented to the town of Salem the cannon which Colonel Leslie attempted to seize. When he demanded the arms, at the head of his regiment, Captain Derby’s reply was, “Find them, and take them if you can; they will never be surrendered!” and his courage preserved the treasure. He was instrumental, too, in inciting his fellow-townsmen to the exploit of raising the drawbridge and sinking the boats—the first repulse of the British in the commencement of hostilities.
Colonel F. W. Lander, the Pacific Railroad explorer, is the brother of the subject of our sketch. In various branches of her family has artistic talent shown itself. Her grandmother and her mother were remarkable for their fondness for art, and gave evidence thereof in works of their own. In the old family mansion, where Louisa’s childhood was spent, are carvings upon the walls and over the lofty doors, designed by her grandmother, and executed under her directions. Similar designs, evincing both taste and skill, decorated the mahogany furniture; and the canopies and coverings of the furniture were embroidered by the lady, according to the fashion of the day, her own fancy supplying the beautiful designs. It can hardly be said when commenced the artist-life of the young girl brought up under such influences. She was, as a child, singularly grave and thoughtful; serious and reserved at all times, and decided in her judgment, which was always according to the dictates of sound sense. A love of art, which might be called an ardent passion, possessed her nature from her earliest years. On one occasion—the first time she had an opportunity of seeing a work of real merit—she stood quiet and absorbed in admiration. Her sister, who had been pointing out the peculiar touches of skill, turned to ask her opinion, and saw her face bathed in tears. This was a surprising demonstration for a child who had been scarcely ever known to exhibit emotion, and whose self-control was so uncommon that her manner usually appeared cold. It seems as if art alone could arouse the full ardor and energy of her spirit.
When a very little child, at different times, she modeled two heads for broken dolls. One was made of light sealing-wax, and the modeling of both was so wonderfully accurate that her mother would not allow the child to play with them, but kept them as curiosities. On another occasion Louisa brought one of her drawings from school, so admirably executed, especially in the face, that her relatives thought the touch a happy accident, and were inclined to disbelieve her assertions that she had meant to produce the very effect given to her picture.
After her talent for sculpture had been fairly developed, she resolved on the devotion of her life to that branch of art. Her intense perception and enjoyment of the beautiful, awakened a thirst within her which could only be slaked at the fountain-head; and, driven forth, as it were, by this longing, she left her happy home in Salem—her circle of beloved relatives and congenial friends—to go among untried scenes, fixing her abode in Rome. There she speedily acquired a reputation which drew around her friends interested in the progress and triumph of genius. She was a pupil of the lamented Crawford—the only one he ever consented to admit into his studio, for he had discerned in her early efforts the promise of future eminence. She evinced, from the first, a remarkable power in portraits, catching the most delicate and subtle shades of likeness. One of her productions is a bust of Governor Gore, executed from two oil portraits; a difficult piece of work, as the portraits were not alike, having been taken at different periods of his life. The bust was pronounced an excellent likeness by Chief Justice Shaw and others who remember the governor. Miss Lander finished it in marble for the Harvard Library. It is to be placed in Gore Hall, in Cambridge.
This talent for likenesses is observable in the first efforts of Miss Lander. When very young, before she had attempted modeling, she carved from an old alabaster clock, with a penknife, several heads and faces in bas-relief. These were noticed by a friend, who gave her a bit of shell and some gravers, and at once, without the least instruction, she carved a head in cameo. Likenesses of her mother and other friends were made, and pronounced very striking. Her first modeling was a bas-relief portrait of her father; it was followed by a bust of her brother, the late chief-justice of Washington Territory.
Her work “To-day,” was seen in ambrotype, on her arrival in Rome, by Crawford, and his admiration of it perhaps induced him to receive her as his pupil. The figure is an emblem of our youthful country. The head is crowned with a chaplet of morning glories; the drapery is the American flag, fastened at the breast and the shoulder with the stars. Its look forward typifies progress in so spirited a manner that, at first sight, one might be startled by the apparent movement of life. A flower falling from the hair on the neck behind, adds to this effect of motion. Power and spirit are prominent characteristics of the work. This, with her “Galatea,” a figure full of grace and tenderness, was modeled before Miss Lander went to Italy. She had also finished a fine bust of her father, a perfect likeness, and exquisitely chiseled in marble.
After Miss Lander went to Rome, she executed many portrait busts, among them a fine one of Hawthorne, and a bas-relief of Mountford. A letter from Rome described, as seen in her studio, “A charming statuette of Virginia Dare,” about three feet in height. This child was the granddaughter of John White, governor of the Colony of Virginia at the period of one of the early disastrous expeditions of Sir Walter Raleigh.
“About the month of August, in 1587, Mrs. Dare, daughter of the governor, was delivered of a daughter in Roanoke, who was baptized the next Lord’s-day by the name of Virginia, being the first English child born in the country. Before the close of August, the governor, at the earnest solicitation of the whole colony, sailed for England to procure supplies. An unfortunate turn of affairs at home prevented another expedition from reaching Virginia until 1590, when, upon arrival, it was found that the houses of the former settlers were demolished, though still surrounded by a palisade, and a great part of the stores was discovered buried in the ground; but no trace was ever found of the unfortunate colony. Bancroft says that, when the governor sailed for England, he left the infant and her mother as hostages, and it is presumed that they were carried into captivity by the Indians, as, after this, European features could be traced in the Indian lineaments.
“Miss Lander represents her Virginia as brought up an Indian princess, displaying in her erect attitude and beautiful form the fearless dignity and grace that such a life would impart. The head and face are very fine, exhibiting the thoughtfulness and spirituality that would naturally be derived from the dreamy recollections of her early life. The figure is semi-nude; the drapery, a light fishing-net, is charmingly conceived and executed, being worn like an Indian blanket; and the ornaments are wampum beads. This design, possessing the charm of novelty and historic interest, shows that we have in our own country rich subjects of sculpture, without resorting to the old heathen mythology.”
Miss Lander afterward made a life-size statue of Virginia in marble. Her reclining statue of “Evangeline” forms a fine contrast to this; “the one full of force and energy, all life and motion; the other so still and tranquil in her sweet, profound slumber. She is represented at the moment when, worn out with her wanderings, she sleeps under the cedar-tree by the river-side,
“‘For this poor soul had wandered,
Bleeding and barefooted, over the shards and thorns of existence.’
Her deep repose is not so much slumbering as like one in a trance. In the marble this is shown exactly by her attitude, as though she had dropped from utter weariness; her drapery hangs heavily about her, and still more heavily falls her hand; the whole figure is expressive of deep rest—almost painful it would be but for the beautiful face, lighted up by ‘the thought in her heart’ that her lover is near, and that
“‘Through those shadowy aisles Gabriel had wandered before her,
Every stroke of the oar now brings him nearer and nearer
(Now she slept beneath the cedar-tree).
Such was the vision Evangeline saw as she slumber’d beneath it;
Fill’d was her heart with love, and the dawn of an opening heaven
Lighted her soul in sleep with the glory of regions celestial.’
Very beautiful she is; and, as I gazed upon her, I seemed to hear the dash of Gabriel’s oar, as he glided along behind ‘a screen of palmettos,’ unseeing and unseen, and was ready to exclaim,
“‘Angel of God, is there none to awaken the maiden?’”
Another work by Miss Lander is “Elizabeth, the Exile of Siberia,” a spirited yet feminine figure, “very pretty in its picturesque costume—the short cloak, Russian boots, and closely-fitting cap.”
This gifted young artist has finished a statuette of “Undine.” It is a drooping figure, with expression full of sadness, just rising from the fountain to visit earth for the last time. The base of the fountain is surrounded by shells forming water-jets; Undine is in the central one, and the drapery falls from her hand into water as it drops. She has also finished a “Ceres Mourning for Proserpine.” The goddess is leaning upon a sheaf of wheat; her hands and head are drooping, as if she were planning her daughter’s escape. “A Sylph,” just alighted—an airy, floating figure, her puzzled attention fixed on a butterfly—is another of Miss Lander’s creations.