PORTRAIT OF F. R. LEYLAND
ARRANGEMENT IN BLACK
OIL
In the Charles L. Freer Collection, National Gallery of American Art
The print of the Carlyle was very successful. At Howell's suggestion, Graves agreed to give Whistler a thousand pounds for a portrait of Disraeli, and the copyright: a plate to be made from it also.
Mr. Alan S. Cole says Whistler went to see Disraeli:
"September 19 (1878). Called on J., who told me of his interview with Lord Beaconsfield as to painting a portrait of him. He had been down at Hughenden—saw the old gentleman, who, however, declined."
Whistler's version was:
"Everything was most wonderful. We were the two artists together—recognising each other at a glance! 'If I sit to any one, it will be to you, Mr. Whistler,' were Disraeli's last words as he left me at the gate. And then he sat to Millais!"
This scheme falling through, Graves commissioned Josey to engrave the Mother, and afterwards the Rosa Corder, painted as a commission from Howell. Whistler told us he offered the portrait as a present to Howell, who declined and insisted on paying a hundred guineas for it, the amount entered in Howell's diary as paid to Whistler on September 9, 1878. It was sold to R. A. Canfield in 1903 for two thousand pounds, and now belongs to Mr. Henry C. Frick. Though these mezzotints were successful when published, collectors thought as little of them as they did at the time of those of a century earlier, and for years proofs signed by both artist and engraver could be picked up for less than the published price.
After the two pictures had been engraved by Josey, Howell deposited in the same way three of the Nocturnes with Graves: The Falling Rocket, The Fire Wheel, Old Battersea Bridge—Blue and Gold, and also The Fur Jacket. These pictures were not engraved. Whistler had not a minute to spare from legal troubles and impatient creditors. "Poor J. turned up depressed—very hard up, and fearful of getting old," Mr. Cole wrote in his diary for October 16, 1878. Whistler had reason for depression. It was now that Howell's diary records his purchase of the Irving for ten pounds and a sealskin coat. There is nothing more tragic in the story of Rembrandt's bankruptcy.
Footnotes
[ [7] Mrs. Leyland told us of this engagement. We know nothing more about it.
CHAPTER XIX: THE TRIAL.
THE YEAR EIGHTEEN SEVENTY-EIGHT.
The action Whistler v. Ruskin, was heard on November 25-26, 1878.
John Ruskin, leader of taste, critic of art, prophet, and propounder of the gospel of "the Beautiful," led not only a devout following, but that enormous public which believes blindly in Britons. Whistler knew that either he or Ruskin must settle the question whether an artist may paint what he wants in his own way, though this may not be understood by the patron, the critic, the Academy, or the real British judge, the man in the street; whether the artist should rule or be ruled. The case was, Whistler said, "between the Brush and the Pen." His motives were ignored, the proceedings made a jest, and the verdict treated as a farce. Few could, or do, realise that he was in earnest, that the trial was a defence of his principles, and the verdict a justification of his belief.
At the time Whistler was to the British public a charlatan, a mountebank. Ruskin was to the People a preacher, the professor of art. Whistler denied the right of Ruskin, master of English literature, populariser of pictures, to declare himself infallible, as he did, his head turned by his success in defence of the Pre-Raphaelites and booming of Turner. As to his discoveries, Turner was a full R.A. and Carpaccio had been accepted for centuries before he "discovered" them. Ruskin did but popularise Carpaccio, and buy and sell Turner. So good a friend of Ruskin's as W. M. Rossetti said that he was "substantially wrong in the Whistler matter," that his mind broke down at times, and that his mental troubles began in 1860. His conceit and his vanity can be explained in no other way. Unfortunately he lived in the only country where his arrogant pretensions would then have been countenanced, though, owing to the present acceptance of England and everything English, he has become something of a fetish abroad, now that he is exposed and discredited at home. He was rich, he was a University man, he contributed long letters to the Times. He was a typical new British patron of the arts, for to him the financial side of connoisseurship was of the greatest importance—"two hundred guineas for flinging a pot of paint." Moreover, he was a master of English; therefore he could commit any absurdity. As Whistler said, political economists considered him a great art critic, and artists looked upon him as a great political economist. Sometimes we have wondered if there was not another reason for Ruskin's venom. He never appreciated the great artists of the world, save certain Italians recognised long before. His estimate of Velasquez and Rembrandt, and his comparison between Turner and Constable, prove how little his now unheeded sermons were ever worth. While he failed to comprehend Charles Keene, he went into ecstasies over Kate Greenaway. He loved Stacy Marks and hated Snyders. Whistler, knowing this, may have laughed. Mr. Collingwood wrote that, long before the trial, Whistler "had made overtures to the great critic through Mr. Swinburne, the poet; but he had not been taken seriously." It is certain Ruskin was not taken seriously by the great artist. Swinburne suggested a meeting in a letter of August 11, 1865, to which we have referred (published in the Library Edition of the Works of John Ruskin), but in such words that we gather there must have been some sort of misunderstanding already between Whistler and Ruskin. Swinburne wanted to take Ruskin to the studio and represented Whistler as desirous of meeting him. It is likely that Whistler, knowing Ruskin's power in the Press, was willing to be written about by him, and also that Ruskin cherished whatever reason for dislike he had for Whistler.
Anderson Rose prepared the case, and we know the pains and trouble Whistler took over it. Judge Parry has shown us letters to his father which prove this. Whistler warned Rose there was no use in making him out a popular painter; better show the jury that the Academy and Academicians were against him. He thought, at first, that the artists would be on his side and would unite with him to drive the false prophet out of the temple. But Ruskin the critic was to them more powerful than Whistler the painter, and when the time came they sneaked away, all except Albert Moore. Besides, there was the hope that the Yankee would lose. Whistler told us "they hoped they could drive me out of the country, or kill me! And if I hadn't had the constitution of a Government mule, they would!"
Charles Keene, whom Whistler considered the greatest English artist since Hogarth, could write on November 24, 1878:
"Whistler's case against Ruskin comes off, I believe, on Monday. He wants to subpœna me as a witness as to whether he is (as Ruskin says) an impostor or not. I told him I should be glad to record my opinion, but begged him to do without me if he could. They say it will most likely be settled on the point of law without going into evidence, but if the evidence is adduced, it will be the greatest lark that has been known for a long time in the courts."
Keene did not dare to stand up for Whistler and for art, and the bitterness is in those last words—"a lark!"
In the Exchequer Division at Westminster the action for libel, in which "Mr. James Abbott McNeill Whistler, an artist, seeks to recover damages against Mr. John Ruskin, the well-known author and art critic," came up before Baron Huddleston and a special jury. Our account is compiled chiefly from the reports published in the Times and the Daily News, November 26 and 27, 1878, from The Gentle Art, and from what Whistler, Mr. Rossetti, Armstrong, Mr. Graves, and others who were present have told us. According to Lady Burne-Jones, Ruskin had been delighted at the prospect of the trial:
"It's nuts and nectar to me, the notion of having to answer for myself in court, and the whole thing will enable me to assert some principles of art economy which I've never got into the public's head by writing: but may get sent over all the world vividly in a newspaper report or two. Meanwhile I've heard nothing of the matter yet, and am only afraid the fellow will be better advised."
Nuts and nectar turned to gall and vinegar. In the early winter of 1878 rumours of his ill-health reached the papers. Lady Burne-Jones adds that, when the action was brought, "although he had quite recovered from his illness, he was not allowed to appear"—a curious sort of recovery. But he was well enough on the morning of the 26th to write to Charles Eliot Norton that "to-day I believe the comic Whistler lawsuit is to be decided."
The court was crowded. Mr. Serjeant Parry and Mr. Petheram were counsel for the plaintiff, and the Attorney-General (Sir John Holker) and Mr. Bowen for the defendant. Mr. Serjeant Parry opened the case for Whistler, "who has followed the profession of an artist for many years, while Mr. Ruskin is a gentleman well known to all of us, and holding perhaps the highest position in Europe or America as an art critic. Some of his works are destined to immortality, and it is the more surprising, therefore, that a gentleman holding such a position could traduce another in a way that would lead that other to come into a court of law to ask for damages. The jury, after hearing the case, will come to the conclusion that a great injustice has been done. Mr. Whistler, in the United States, has earned a reputation as a painter and an artist. He is not merely a painter, but has likewise distinguished himself in the capacity of etcher, achieving considerable honours in that department of art. He has been an unwearied worker in his profession, always desiring to succeed, and if he had formed an erroneous opinion, he should not have been treated with contempt and ridicule. Mr. Ruskin edits a publication called Fors Clavigera, that has a large circulation among artists and art patrons. In the July number of 1877 appeared a criticism of the pictures in the Grosvenor, containing the paragraph which is the defamatory matter complained of. Sir Coutts Lindsay is described as an amateur, both in art and shopkeeping, who must take up one business or the other. Mannerisms and errors are pointed out in the work of Burne-Jones, but whatever their extent, his pictures 'are never affected or indolent. The work is natural to the painter, however strange to us, wrought with the utmost conscience and care, however far, to his or our desire the result may seem to be incomplete. Scarcely so much can be said for any other pictures of the modern schools. Their eccentricities are almost always in some degree forced, and their imperfections gratuitously, if not impertinently, indulged. For Mr. Whistler's own sake, no less than for the protection of the purchaser Sir Coutts Lindsay ought not to have admitted works into the gallery in which the ill-educated conceit of the artist so nearly approaches the aspect of wilful imposture. I have seen and heard much of cockney impudence before now, but never expected to hear a coxcomb ask two hundred guineas for flinging a pot of paint in the public's face.' Mr. Ruskin pleaded that the alleged libel was privileged as being a fair and bona fide criticism upon a painting which the plaintiff had exposed to public view. But the terms in which Mr. Ruskin has spoken of the plaintiff are unfair and ungentlemanly, and are calculated to do, and have done him, considerable injury, and it will be for the jury to say what damages the plaintiff is entitled to."
Whistler was the first witness. He said: "I studied in Paris with Du Maurier, Poynter, Armstrong. I was awarded a gold medal at The Hague.... My etchings are in the British Museum and Windsor Castle collections. I exhibited eight pictures at the Grosvenor Gallery in the summer of 1877. No pictures were exhibited there save on invitation. I was invited by Sir Coutts Lindsay to exhibit. The first was a Nocturne in Black and Gold—The Falling Rocket. The second, a Nocturne in Blue and Silver [since called Blue and Gold—Old Battersea Bridge]. The third, a Nocturne in Blue and Gold, belonging to the Hon. Mrs. Percy Wyndham. The fourth, a Nocturne in Blue and Silver, belonging to Mrs. Leyland. The fifth, an Arrangement in Black—Irving as Philip II. of Spain. The sixth, a Harmony in Amber and Black. The seventh, an Arrangement in Brown. In addition to these, there was a portrait of Mr. Carlyle. That portrait was painted from sittings Mr. Carlyle gave me. It has since been engraved, and the artist's proofs were all subscribed for. The Nocturnes, all but two, were sold before they went to the Grosvenor Gallery. One of them was sold to the Hon. Percy Wyndham for two hundred guineas—the one in Blue and Gold. One I sent to Mr. Graham in lieu of a former commission, the amount of which was a hundred and fifty guineas. A third one, Blue and Silver, I presented to Mrs. Leyland. The one that was for sale was in Black and Gold—The Falling Rocket."
Curiously, the only one for sale was pounced on by Ruskin. The coxcomb was trying to get two hundred guineas, and the British commercial critic spotted it.
Asked whether, since the publication of the criticism, he had sold a Nocturne, Whistler answered: "Not by any means at the same price as before."
The portraits of Irving and Carlyle were produced in court, and he is said to have described the Irving as "a large impression—a sketch; it was not intended as a finished picture." We do not believe he said anything of the sort.
He was then asked for his definition of a Nocturne: "I have perhaps, meant rather to indicate an artistic interest alone in the work, divesting the picture from any outside sort of interest which might have been otherwise attached to it. It is an arrangement of line, form, and colour first, and I make use of any incident of it which shall bring about a symmetrical result. Among my works are some night pieces; and I have chosen the word Nocturne because it generalises and simplifies the whole set of them."
The Falling Rocket, though it is difficult here to follow the case, was evidently produced at this point upside down; Whistler describing it as a night piece, said it represented the fireworks at Cremorne.
Attorney-General: "Not a view of Cremorne?"
Whistler: "If it were called a view of Cremorne, it would certainly bring about nothing but disappointment on the part of the beholders. (Laughter.) It is an artistic arrangement."
Attorney-General: "Why do you call Mr. Irving an Arrangement in Black?" (Laughter.)
The judge interposed, though in jest, for there was more laughter, and explained that the picture, not Mr. Irving, was the Arrangement.
Whistler: "All these works are impressions of my own. I make them my study. I suppose them to appeal to none but those who may understand the technical matter."
And he added that it would be possible to see the pictures in Westminster Palace Hotel close by, where he had placed them for the purpose.
Attorney-General: "I suppose you are willing to admit that your pictures exhibit some eccentricities. You have been told that over and over again?"
Whistler: "Yes, very often." (Laughter.)
Attorney-General: "You send them to the gallery to invite the admiration of the public?"
Whistler: "That would be such vast absurdity on my part that I don't think I could." (Laughter.)
Attorney-General: "Can you tell me how long it took you to knock off that Nocturne?"
Whistler: "I beg your pardon?" (Laughter.)
Attorney-General: "I am afraid that I am using a term that applies rather perhaps to my own work...."
Whistler: ... "Let us say then, how long did I take to 'knock off'—I think that is it—to knock off that Nocturne; well, as well as I remember, about a day.... I may have still put a few more touches to it the next day if the painting were not dry. I had better say, then, that I was two days at work on it."
Attorney-General: "The labour of two days, then, is that for which you ask two hundred guineas?"
Whistler: "No; I ask it for the knowledge of a lifetime."
Attorney-General: "You don't approve of criticism?"
Whistler: "I should not disapprove in any way of technical criticism by a man whose life is passed in the practice of the science which he criticises; but for the opinion of a man whose life is not so passed, I would have as little regard as you would if he expressed an opinion on law."
Attorney-General: "You expect to be criticised?"
Whistler: "Yes, certainly; and I do not expect to be affected by it until it comes to be a case of this kind."
The Nocturne, the Blue and Silver, was then produced.
Whistler: "It represents Battersea Bridge by moonlight."
The Judge: "Is this part of the picture at the top Old Battersea Bridge? Are those figures on the top of the bridge intended for people?"
Whistler: "They are just what you like."
The Judge: "That is a barge beneath?"
Whistler: "Yes, I am very much flattered at your seeing that. The picture is simply a representation of moonlight. My whole scheme was only to bring about a certain harmony of colour."
The Judge: "How long did it take you to paint that picture?"
