ENGRAVED FANS OF THE SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES. PART I
THE practice of engraving fans, begun tentatively in Italy by Agostino Carracci in the latter half of the sixteenth century, and in France by Callot somewhat later, did not become general until the close of the century that followed, although two names—those of Abraham Bosse and Nicholas Loire—stand out prominently during this interval.
The engraving of Carracci referred to in an early chapter of this work, and illustrated opposite, must be regarded as merely a design for a fan, serving no other purpose apparently, in its engraved form, than as a record of a type of fan now practically obsolete, and of which no examples in their complete or original state remain to us.
The earliest engraved fans take the form of the hand-screens in general use in Italy and elsewhere at this period. Of these, the engraving known as ‘l’éventail de Callot,’ much sought after by iconophilists, was produced in the year 1619, and is one of the most esteemed plates of the master. The subject is a fête or carnival on the Arno, given at Florence on the 25th of July of that year by the Corporations of Weavers and Dyers, the whole subject being enclosed in a characteristic cartouche, on the lower portion of which the name ‘Jacomo Callot fec.’ appears.
| Engraved design for Feather Fan, by Agostino Caracci. Hand Screen, by C.F. Hörman. | Schreiber Colln. British Museum. |
Two states of this engraving are known. The first, before the inscription on the ribbon and the name on the cartouche, being extremely rare.[131]
Callot has been credited with a second fan, which also takes the form of a cartouche of similar shape to the first mentioned. The subject is a dance in a garden—six persons are seen dancing a minuet before an assembled company. This engraving, however, is rightly ascribed by the best authorities to Stefano della Bella.
This subject was imitated and amplified by Nicolas Cochin the elder, the composition rearranged, a larger number of figures introduced, with a different and more elaborate background, the cartouche being similar.
Cochin also produced a subject of the Triumph of David, who is represented on horseback, sword in hand, with the head of Goliath, the cartouche copied from Callot, inscribed ‘Balthasar Montcornet, ex Cum privilegio a paris.’
Another of these engraved hand-screens consists of a frame composed of two large eagles, with the arms of Austria and Medicis, enclosing a view of the Villa Reale near Florence, freely etched in the manner of Israel Silvestre.
A set of four hand-screens was engraved by Christopher Fredr. Hörman; prints of Nos. 3 and 4 appear in the British Museum collection. No. 3 is included in Lady Charlotte Schreiber’s book, No. 4 being reproduced here. The subjects are ballet dancers in fantastic costume, accompanied by, in each instance, a figure playing a musical instrument.
The distinguished French engraver, Abraham Bosse (born 1602, died 1676), engraved three fans during the years 1637-38, much valued by collectors. The ornament of these, designed in a florid Renaissance style, consists of amorini, masks, festoons, etc., enclosing medallions of mythological subjects—the first being the birth of Adonis, Venus and Adonis, and the death of Adonis; the second—the Judgment of Paris, a Cupid drawing his bow, and a Cupid with a crown; the third—the four ages: of gold, silver, bronze, and iron.
No examples of these engravings appear in the British Museum collection. A print of the Judgment of Paris is in the Bibliothèque Nationale, but permission to reproduce it could not be obtained.
The title-page of Nicholas Loire’s work, Desseins de grands Éventails, appears in the Schreiber collection, together with six engravings from the work. This title-page, by far the most characteristic design of the series, takes the form of a folding-fan, full size. Its subject is an arabesque, composed of a droll with cap and bells playing a guitar, and two fantastic dancing figures on an ornamental festooned platform supported by the wings of female terminals; cornucopia, amorini, vases and flowers serve to complete the composition. It is inscribed: ‘Divers Desseins de grands Eventails, Ecrans, et autres Ornamens, Inventés et Gravés par Nicholas Loire, A Paris chez Jombert rüe Dauphin, No. 56,’ and signed ‘Loire fecit.’
The designs, which measure eight inches, are evidently intended to form the central subjects of fans, to be completed and coloured by hand. They include ‘The Judgment of Paris,’ enclosed in a cartouche with Cupids, fruit, etc.; an eastern goddess, seated under a canopy, the drapery of which is sustained by two serving-men; Isaac and Rebekah; The finding of Moses; Venus; and Europa.
| A Fête on the Arno. (Éventail de Callot.) | British Museum |
The topical fan, having reference to royal and distinguished personages, or recording public events, was entirely the product of the eighteenth century. It was, broadly speaking, born with the century, and died with it. During this period, the engraved fan became a purveyor of history, a kind of running commentary on the affairs of the hour. It was the fan of the people—the poor relation of the more aristocratic painted fan. ‘Ill drawn, roughly modelled, and often vilely bedaubed,’ says Henri Bouchot in his entertaining ‘History on Fans,’[132] ‘its genesis is not hard to determine; its fathers were Callot and Abraham Bosse, and its mothers the coquettes of the grand siècle.’ We shall, therefore, lightly, though perhaps somewhat too swiftly, traverse the fascinating period above indicated, with this sprightly annotator for guide, which finds amusement in ‘Malbrouk’ and his mock burial, follows Stanislaus into his enforced retirement in Alsace, alternately sympathises with and mocks at the woes of the unfortunate Louis and his family, with apparent careless nonchalance records the chief scenes of the reign of terror, celebrates the amazing triumphs, and witnesses the ultimate defeat of Napoleon.
Naval and military events, for reasons which will be sufficiently obvious, play a comparatively unimportant part in French fan decoration. ‘Malbrouk’ (Marlborough) is, however, lampooned in three scenes from the popular song of ‘Malbrouk,’ said to have been composed on the night after the battle of Malplaquet, September 11, 1709, and a plagiarism of a Huguenot song on the death of the Duc de Guise,[133] written by Théodore de Bèze and published by the Abbé de la Place in his collection of fragments, the first verse of which runs as follows:
‘Qui veut ouïr chanson? (bis)
C’est du Grand Duc de Guise;
Et bon bon bon bon,
Di dan di dan don.
C’est du Grand due de Guise!
Qui est mort et enterré.’
‘Malbrouk’ provided the subject of several fans, the most popular versions giving three vignettes. In the centre his tomb inscribed ‘Ci Git Malbrouk,’ guarded by four soldiers. Below are portions of the thirteenth and fourteenth verses:
‘A l’entour de sa tombe
Romarin l’on planta.’
‘Sur la plus haute branche
Le rossignol chanta.’
On the left, his departure, Madame taking an affectionate leave; below:
‘Malbrouk s’en va-t-en guerre.’
On the right, the tower, Madame with telescope, page bringing news of Malbrouk’s death; below, a portion of fourth verse:
‘Madame à sa tour monte
Si haut qu’elle peut monter.’
On the back of the fan are nineteen verses of the song with music, and the refrain: ‘Miron, ton-ton-ton-miron.’
An example appears in Miss Moss’s collection, with the reverse only engraved, the obverse painted in gouache on skin, the stick ivory, pierced and carved.
Several versions of the engraved fan are extant—one with similar arrangements to that above described, and the Histoire de Malbrouk in thirty-one verses on the back. A second has, for centre, Malbrouk’s body carried by soldiers; on the left, Madame on tower, page bringing news, both in tears; on the right the tomb, ten verses from the second part of the song, filling the field of the fan. On a third, in the centre, Malbrouk taking leave; on the left, page bringing news of his death; on the right, the tomb; on the reverse, the verses of the song, with music, and the refrain:
‘Miron ton-ton-ton-mirontaine.’
The fan of ‘La Coquette,’ with those of ‘la Belle Chanteuse’ and ‘le Galant,’ and portraits of Babet the flower-girl (a popular character of the period), were issued by the dealer Crépy and sold by the score to the frequenters of the theatre.
| Grotesque Fan, in imitation of Callot, French or Dutch, 17th Cent. | Bibliothèque Nationale. |
La Coquette herself, with her paniers occupying nearly a third of the fan, demurely takes her tea. She is, doubtless, the sister of Mademoiselle Alluré, who dances to the music of a viola, while the small half-opened fan, the fan within the fan, sings:
‘Voilà un éventaille mon cousin,
De plaisante figure.
Admiré son dessin, mon cousin,
Mais non pas la peinture,
Elle est à l’allure, mon cousin,
Mon cousin à l’allure!’
The half-opened fan of ‘La Coquette’ is also provided with a subject of which, perhaps, the less said the better:
‘Cette Evantail est magnifique
Mais defectueux en cela.
Que pour la mettre en musique
Il faut dire un sol, la, mi, la. (Un sot l’a mis là!)’
The peasant girl, with her panier on hip and panier on arm, is also a coquette; ‘Je vais en Vendange remplir mon Panier,’ says she, the sort of vintage the cunning Margot hopes for being sufficiently obvious, even without the love-knot that loops the frame of the miniature with its accompanying legend, ‘J’ay bien des camarades sur la place,’ and the knave of diamonds standing hard by.
The ‘little air’ with its explanatory picture says:
‘Je voudrois bien Liset-te
Au son de ma musett-te
Je voudrois bien Liset-te
Charmer vôtre langueur;
Que faittes vous seulette
Assis dessus l’herbette
Votre ame est inquiette.
Qui peut Causer votre langueur
Au son de ma muset-te
Je voudrois bien Liset-te.’
A pictorial rebus (referring to ‘l’éventail magnifique’), a game board, a harlequin, and a billet-doux (N’oubliez pas le porteur) complete the composition; the whole being an instance of the Parisian’s insatiable love of badinage. Printed in Paris in 1734.
In Le bal des Nations, the several countries are figured as pretty women at a costume ball; this representing the fan’s comment on the declaration of war with the Emperor Charles VI. Each of the actors of the piece delivers a song, the words of which are printed round the top of the fan. La France sings:
‘Je suis certaine
De bien cabrioler,
Rien ne me gêne,
Je veux me signaler.
Je connais mes appas;
Sur tout j’aurai le pas,
D’un beau boquet parée,
Que Charles detacha
De sa livrée.’
La France is followed by L’Espagne, La Sardaigne, L’Italie, L’Allemagne, La Saxe, La Russie, La Pologne, La Turquie, La Hollande and L’Angleterre. The air, (le Bel Age), printed on the fan.
Events failed to bear out the fan’s predictions. The news of the defeat of Stanislaus was carefully concealed from Queen Marie, the king causing a special copy of the Gazette to be printed announcing her father’s successes.
The queen, however, remained in ignorance but a short while; the fan, the popular newspaper of the period, very speedily announced—‘Capture of Dantzic by the Russians, unconditional surrender.’ The picture—Stanislaus escaping through a gateway with his band of mounted followers.
| The Four Ages. | Abraham Bosse |
‘Malbrouk’ crops up again towards the middle of the century; the folly of ‘Pantins’[134] and Bilboquets had been superseded by le ‘fureur de cabriolets,’ to be in turn driven away by ‘Malbrouk.’ ‘Une Folie chasse l’autre’ exhibits ‘Malbrouk’ fully equipped with sword and buckler, issuing from a tent held open by a fool in cap and motley, driving away figures of a woman playing bilboquet, a dancing abbé with Pantin, a cabaret-keeper, and a man with flag and lantern.
To the air of ‘Chacun à son Tour,’ the fan sings:
‘Un rien suffit pour nous séduire
La nouvauté par son attrait
Nous enflame jusqu’au delire
Nous fait en rire on à tout fait
Et chez notre nation volage
Malbrouk est le Héros du jour.
Chacun à son Tour
C’est notre usage
Chacun à son tour.
Au Bilboquet Pantin succede
Pantin fuit devant Ramponeau
l’Elégant Ramponeau ne cede
Que pour faire place à Janot
La Folie qui nous guide à tout âge
Amene Malbourg en ce jour.
Chacun à son tour, etc.’
We have also a satire on the separation of America from England, who is represented as a cow, with America in the act of sawing off its horns; Holland milking it; Spain waiting to receive the milk. A lion representing England has lost its right paw. To the left ‘Jacques Rosbif’ and a companion in despairing attitudes, with the deed of separation and a bale of goods labelled ‘TEE.’ The whole scene is being witnessed
by a group of figures representing the Powers of Europe, with a paper inscribed ‘Epoque fatale. 4 Juillet, 1776, & le 13 Mar. 1778.’ On the reverse the ‘Explication de l’emblème’ as—
1. ‘La Vache & le Lion sont le symbole de l’Angleterre.’
2. ‘La Corne qu’on a sciée à la Vache, la Patte qu’on a coupée au Lion, & la tranquillité de ces Animaux désignent la foiblesse & l’épuisement actuels de la Nation,’ etc.[135]
The capture of Granada by the French fleet under the Comte d’Estaing, in 1799, is commemorated, the fan illustrating the sea-fight between French and English ships.
The fortunes of the ill-fated Louis Seize and his beautiful consort are followed to the final tragedy of 1793 with its momentous consequences. We have seen how the good citizens of Dieppe celebrated the joyful occasion of the birth of the dauphin by the gift to the queen-mother of a precious fan of carved ivory. On the more humble printed fan, Immortality, amid a great concourse of people, with fireworks and illuminations in the background, presents the royal infant on a cushion, to kneeling, admiring, and devoted France, who offers a basket of hearts. The inscription, ‘Le Dauphin présenté par l’immortalité, la France saisie d’admiration offre pour hommage à son Prince chéri les cœurs unis et respectueux de ses fidèles sujets.’
Again the fan sings the birth of the dauphin; in this the royal infant, in leading-strings, advances to meet the king, his father, who is standing near. Above, a genius floats in the air, with a wreath and two shields of arms bearing fleurs-de-lys and two dolphins. On either side are verses entitled ‘Chanson sur la Naissance du Dauphin. Air, de la Pantoufle.’
| Title Page of Nicolas Loire’s ‘Desseins des grands Eventails.’ | Schreiber Colln. British Museum. |
| La Coquette. | Bibliothèque Nationale. |
‘Vénus, en ce jour,
Comble nos cœurs d’allégresse
Vénus en ce jour
Donne naissance à l’amour,
François chérissons,
Et donnons notre tendresse
François chérissons
Cet auguste rejetton,’ etc.
The song of ‘Malbrouk’ came once again into fashion in 1782. It was sung by the nurse to the infant dauphin, and hence became one of the favourite tunes of Marie-Antoinette. Beaumarchais introduced it into Le Mariage de Figaro in 1784, the piece having been privately performed before the king at Versailles, the queen taking the part of Suzanne. ‘Malbrouk,’ say the authors of the Mémoires Secrets de Bachaumont, ‘has become the hero of every fashion—to-day everything is “à la Malbrouk”—ribbons, head-dresses, waistcoats, above all, hats “à la Malbrouk,” and one sees all the ladies, either walking in the streets, on the promenade, or at the play, “rigged out” in this grotesque couvre-chef.’
Most things mundane, however, come to an end sooner or later—even the star of Malbrouk, in its turn, is eclipsed:
‘Malbrouck n’a plus d’empire,
Les beaux jours sont passés,
Ce guerrier a fait rire
Les gens les plus sensés,
Mais changeant de méthode
Au gré de nos sçavans,
Chacun se prend de mode
Pour les globes mouvants!’
On a fine evening at the end of August 1783, the peasants of Gonesse were astonished by a ‘bolt from the blue’ in the shape of Professor Charles’s balloon. ‘What is it?’ they exclaim—‘some strange demon, or a visitant from Mars.’ The machine, which had no occupant, King Louis having objected to a man risking his neck, only escaped destruction by the interference of the parish priest. Here, surely, was an opportunity for the fan, by which, as a matter of fact, it was not slow in profiting. Balloon-fans became at once the mode, and ‘La Mode’ appropriated the balloon; hats ‘au ballon,’ everything—dresses, ribbons, even hair, ‘au ballon.’
On December 1st of the same year, MM. Charles and Robert made their ascent in the gardens of the Tuileries. We therefore have a fan representing the departure of ‘les deux intrépides,’ with a group of spectators, among whom are two members of the Royal House, ‘des seigneurs quantité.’ On the reverse, two lines of music and five stanzas of verse, of which the first runs as follows:
‘De l’aerostatique sphère
françois admirez la splandeur
voyez sa forme circulaire
coup seé par un Equateur
ensélevant elle présente
le sigue qui nous attendrit
c’est la maison interessante (bis)
des gemeaux quelle nous ravit.’
There was an echo in England. An illustration of the event forms the centre subject of a fan in the Schreiber collection. On the left, Biaggini’s Air Balloon is about to ascend; and on the right, The Fall of ye Balloon, the confused mass being viewed with curiosity by three rustics.
In the following March, M. Blanchard made his ascent in his balloon with four rudders; the event duly recorded on a fan inscribed ‘La Phisico Mécanique Ou le Vaisseau Volant de Mr. Blanchard.’ The song of four stanzas, ‘Oh parbleu voici du plaisant. Vive la Phisique,’ etc.
| Taking of the Bastille, 1789. | Schreiber Colln British Museum. |
| Duc d’Orleans. | Miss Moss. |
There were painted as well as engraved balloon-fans—with a centre medallion of two fair damsels viewing ‘sa forme circulaire,’ a smaller medallion of a balloon on either side, the field of the fan in the glitter of stars, spangles, and dotted ornaments.
Thus Carlyle, with his characteristic double entente, philosophising on these events: ‘Beautiful invention; mounting heavenward, so beautifully,—so unguidably! Emblem of much, and of our Age of Hope itself; which shall mount, specifically-light, majestically in this same manner; and hover,—tumbling whither Fate will. Well if it do not, Pilâtre-like, explode; and demount all the more tragically!—So, riding on windbags, will men scale the Empyrean.’
The comments of the Parisian wits were of a different order to the caustic satire of Carlyle: in the engraving by Sargent, which appeared in all the glory of printed colour, a learned but absent-minded physicist, instead of inflating his silken globes, inflates himself with the result that he disappeared through the window. ‘Mon pauvre oncle,’ exclaims a young man who exhibits the extreme of grief and despair. A fan leaf ‘à l’oncle’ appears in the Bibliothèque Nationale, having been removed from a mount. Wright, Caricature History of the Georges, note, p. 545, says: ‘The ascents in France during the year 1784 were very numerous, and excited interest even in England.’
Horace Walpole, writing from London on May 7 of the following year, says: ‘Of conversation, the chief topic is air-balloons; a French girl, daughter of a dancer, has made a voyage into the clouds, and was in danger of falling to earth, and being ship wrecked. Three more balloons sail to-day; in short, we shall have a prodigious navy in the air, and then what signifies having lost the empire of the ocean?’
Beaumarchais’ comedy, Le Mariage de Figaro, upon its production in Paris in 1784, immediately became the rage, and enjoyed its successful run of a ‘hundred nights.’ Its story supplied the ‘book’ for Mozart’s opera, which had been ‘commanded’ by the Emperor (Joseph II.) of Germany. This work, first produced in Vienna at the time when Italian opposition to German opera as represented by Gluck and Mozart waxed fiercest, failed, being so indifferently performed under the direction of Salieri, the head of the opposing faction. At Prague, however, where it was subsequently given, and which was outside the influence of Salieri, it was completely successful, a circumstance which afforded Mozart so much satisfaction that he declared that he would write an opera for the good people of Prague, and thereupon produced Don Giovanni!
While the Italian opposition to Mozart’s music was so pronounced, the feeling of antagonism was by no means reciprocated by the great Salzburg composer, who wrote a number of variations to airs by Sarti, Paisiello, and Salieri. The beautiful series of variations on the air ‘Mio Caro Adone’ from Salieri’s opera, La fiera ai Venezia, was composed in 1773, the opera appearing in Vienna a year previously.
Two Figaro fans appear in the Schreiber collection, British Museum, the one with a single medallion in the centre, with scene from the play, and four stanzas of verse commencing ‘Jadis on voioit Thalie,’ etc.; the other with a centre medallion and two smaller ones, and thirteen stanzas of verse commencing ‘Cœurs sensibles, cœurs fidelles,’ etc., with music. Inscribed at the top—‘Vaudeville du Mariage de Figaro.’ Beaumarchais collaborated with Salieri in the opera of Tarare, first produced in Paris in 1787. He claimed to have led the way to the Revolution by this piece, which formed the subject of several fans.
Three scenes from Grétry’s opera of Richard, Cœur de Lion, first produced in 1784, and performed the following year before the king and queen at Fontainebleau, appear on a fan, the costumes being of the period of the production of the opera, the ladies wearing the hooped petticoat, with long streamers from their heads. On the reverse, two songs commencing ‘Que le Sultan Saladin,’ and ‘La Danse n’est pas ce que j’aime.’ The song ‘O Richard, O mon Roi, l’univers t’abandonne,’ which, however, does not appear on the fan, became of historic importance at Versailles, October 1, 1789.
Other operatic fans commemorate ‘Nina ou la Folle par Amour’ and ‘Raoul de Créqui’ by Dalayrac, produced in 1786 and 1789 respectively. The first named has a single scene with four figures in the centre of the fan, and verses headed ‘Romance de Nina, Chantée par Mme. Dugazon.’ The second much more elaborate, with one large and two smaller panels, verses and music from the opera on the back of the fan.
Three scenes from Dezède’s Alcidor, produced 1787, commemorate an opera of which both composer and music are now forgotten. The decorations are etched and rudely coloured by hand; the sticks walnut, inlaid with ivory.
Three hand-screens appeared with a scene from the first, second, and third acts respectively of Fanchon La Vielleuse, a French version of Himmel and Kotzebue’s operetta, Fanchon, das Leyermädchen, produced at Berlin in 1805. These testify to the transient popularity of a now almost forgotten composer. The screens are of cardboard, coloured grey-brown, shield-shaped, having an oval medallion engraved in line and coloured by hand. On the reverse, extracts from the libretto.
Of plays we have an illustration of a scene from Voltaire’s tragedy of Brutus, first produced in Paris in 1730, and revived in 1790, the names of the several characters inscribed below the figures.
On another fan, three scenes from Chénier’s play of Charles IX. ou l’École des Rois, which appeared in Paris in 1789. On the reverse, a long quotation from the second scene of the third act.
An adventure of Philippe-Égalité, Duc d’Orléans, provided the subject of several fans. The story is related at length upon a fan which shows the interior of a cottage where the Duke, during a walk near Bency, in January 1786, had stopped to ask for a breakfast. The peasant’s wife was at the point of childbirth, and was actually delivered whilst the unknown prince ‘que la France admire’ ate his frugal meal of bread and cheese. With his natural bonhomie he proposed himself as godfather, and only at the signing of the register he disclosed his identity by exhibiting his ‘cordon-bleu.’
A fan in the Schreiber collection shows the interior of a parish church, with the prince standing as sponsor. The inscription, ‘Couplets dédiés à S.A.S. Monseigneur le Duc d’Orléans.’
‘Admirons son noble courage,
Son Joquet se trouve en danger,
Ce Héros se jette à la nage,
Rien ne lui paroit étranger.
.....
Exaltons le Prince fait homme
Célébrons ses nobles vertus
Et qu’en tous lieux on le renom̃e
Comme on a renom̃é Titus,
fin.’
The assembly of notables is duly recorded. We see majesty enthroned with a royal prince on either side; Monsieur de Calonne reads his speech, a clerk seated at the table. Inscribed at the top of the fan, ‘L’Assemblée des Notables commencée le 22 Février 1787.’ On the reverse, the king’s oration, with the extract from that of Monsieur Calonne, together with a song entitled ‘Ronde Joieuse à l’Occasion de l’Assemblée des Notables.’[136]
Carlyle thus refers to the popular comments upon this event:—‘The gaping populace gapes over Wood-cuts or Copper-cuts; where, for example, a Rustic is represented convoking the Poultry of his barnyard, with this opening address: “Dear animals, I have assembled you to advise me what sauce I shall dress you with”; to which a Cock responding, “We don’t want to be eaten,” is checked by “You wander from the point (Vous vous écartez de la question).” Laughter and logic; ballad-singer, pamphleteer; epigram and caricature: what wind of public opinion is this—as if the Cave of the Winds were bursting loose!’
Of the events which immediately preceded and culminated in that of the 14th July, the fan says little, except in reference to that dread disease ‘consumption of the purse.’ The people have their States-General—the king is represented as leaning upon a bust of Necker, and holding a cornucopia from which issues gold; inscribed above, ‘L’Heureuse Union des trois États Généraux sous le bon plaisir de Louis Auguste XVI. par les soins de Mr. Necker en 1789.’
On another fan (brisé) the three orders of clergé, noblesse, and Tiers État appear represented by single figures in medallions.
Of two fans having reference to the enforcement of public contributions by Necker, one figures Louis and the dauphin standing before an open box, with a Necker, who has developed wings, opening the box and abstracting a bag of money: other matters, less significant, appear. On the other fan is figured a lady and gentleman in a carriage driving through a wood, with a parcel under the carriage inscribed Contributions; an officer with a woman riding on the opposite side of the fan, the two meeting at the junction of the two roads.
And so we reach the lurid 14 Juillet. To describe this siege of the Bastille passes the talent of mortals; how much more that of the frail fan!—Of the actual storming, therefore, not a word; we are given instead a view of the fortress with the white flag floating from the turret. M. de Launay’s house is in flames, he himself is led between Jamé and the clock-maker, Hemert, under arrest. Another fan gives us a view of the Bastille with the drawbridge down, De Launay wringing his hands, bemoaning his fate, led prisoner. On the right of the fan are soldiers headed by Élie with the paper of capitulation on the end of his sword, two Invalides imploring mercy.
A third fan shows, in a large medallion, a view of the battlements, with an unfortunate soldier being flung from the height, as De Launay himself had been threatened. In the foreground De Launay dragged in custody. The fan (brisé) strung with a tricolour ribbon.
In a fourth fan the Bastille is relegated to the distance, a company of soldiers drawn up at its gates. In the foreground Liberty is seated with cap in one hand, and in the other a scroll labelled ‘Époque de la Liberté.’ Above, a winged figure blowing a trumpet, on the drapery of which is inscribed ‘Prise a la Bastile le 14 Juilet 1789’; in the right hand a cockade: the subject forming a medallion mounted in the centre of an ivory fan cut in fretwork and decorated with trophies, etc., in gold and colour. An example of this fan was sold at the Walker sale in 1882. ‘Souvenir de la Bastille’ gives a view of the building with neighbouring street. ‘Imp et Fabrique d’Eventails Rabiet. J. Ganné Succ 63 Bould Ménilmontant, Paris. Degovrnay, Éditeur. 28 Rue Mazarine, Paris.’ On the back—fleurs de lys and Vive le Roy, 1789.
A sixth shows the conquerors issuing from the drawbridge, De Launay and ‘Le lieutenant’ in great distress; on the reverse the fan sings ‘L’Époque de la Liberté’:
‘Vive Vive la liberté,
C’est le cri de toute la France,
Le Parisien est en gaîté,
Il va combattre, en assurance
Le bonheur désiré longtems
Ne se voit plus en équilibre,
Tous les cœurs se trouvent contens,
Vive le roi d’un peuple libre.
‘A Dieu Bastille, à dieu Cachots
Séjour à jamais exécrable,
Plus de victimes ni de maux
Dans votre enceinte abominable,
Bientôt à nos yeux éblouis
Comme on en voit aux bords du Tibre
La Colonne portant Louis
Annoncera le peuple libre.’
The Bastille has vanished, the fan remaining as souvenir to be sold for a few sous, and fluttered by the cheek of some light-hearted grisette. ‘Tiens!’ she exclaims, ‘La prise de La Bastille! c’est belle, n’est-ce pas?’ as happily ignorant of the trend of events as majesty in its gilded chamber. ‘Mais,’ says the poor king, ‘c’est une révolte!’ ‘Sire, it is not a revolt,—it is a revolution.’
The era of universal liberty has indeed arrived. In ‘Les Droits de l’Homme, 1789,’ Liberty dons her cap, seats herself upon a pedestal to be saluted by all good citizens with song, dance, and flowers; the former, duly inscribed on the fan, commencing ‘Veillons au Salut de l’empire.’
In a variation of this subject La Liberté holds a plummet and triangle in her right hand, in the other a staff surmounted by a cap of Liberty; the pedestal inscribed, ‘Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité, Unité.’
In a third fan La Liberté becomes ‘Patrone des Français,’ and is still provided with plummet and cap.
In ‘Le Serment Civique, 1789,’ the attributes only of Liberty appear, in the shape of three flaming hearts and cap on a flaming altar. Mayor Bailly and Lafayette take the oath, to the accompaniment of a song commencing ‘Français, quand je pense à nos maux.’
The Revolution is therefore sanctioned—one of its earliest results being Le Déménagement du Clergé. On the fan we see a group of bishops, monks, nuns, a number of servants carrying furniture and other effects. A bishop, with pipe and bottle, is seated on the top of a baggagewagon on which is inscribed, ‘J’ai perdu mes bénéfices, Rien n’égale ma douleur.’ A monk, also smoking, is riding on the horse and flourishing a flag inscribed, ‘Guidon.’ ‘Messieurs of the Clergy, you have to be shaved; if you wriggle too much, you will get cut.’[137]
In the ‘Désespoir des Pensionnaires,’ we are introduced to a group of figures who are bewailing their loss; a messenger in cockaded hat is delivering the notices.
Cockades, indeed, were at this period ‘de rigueur’—the ladies wore them in front of their head-dresses—wore gauze bonnets trimmed on either side with them, a great bow of tricoloured streamers at the back. Stripes everywhere—stripes and cockades, cockades and stripes—stripes on the dresses, slippers, and even the huge muffs of the women; stripes on the waistcoats, stockings, and gloves of the men. The patriotic Frenchmen and Frenchwomen of 1789 were the very incarnation of the tricolour; it was the symbol of the gospel of the Revolution, Blue of Liberty, White of Equality, Red of Fraternity.[138]
The Fête de la Fédération, 1790, is commemorated on a fan giving in the centre a view of the altar in the Champ de Mars, with Lafayette waving the tricolour, the fan incribed ‘Le Serment fait sur l’Autel de la Patrie le 14 Juillet 1790, la voix de Mr. la Fayette, Major de la Confédération s’est fait entendre au Champ de Mars.’ On either side are busts of King Louis and Lafayette, inscribed ‘Louis XVI., Roi des Français né à Versailles le 23 Aoust 1754.’ ‘M. De La Fayette Com. Géné. de la Garde Nat. Parisienne.’
On another fan the altar, with surrounding booths, arches, etc., and groups of soldiers dancing. On either side eight verses of a poem, commencing, ‘Voilà la Fête de la Fédération,’ etc., to the air ‘Vive Henri IV.’[139]
| The Abolition of the Slave Trade. | Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris. |
| ‘Cabriolet’ Fan. | Schreiber Colln. British Museum. |
The ‘Day of Poignards’ (February 28, 1791) approaches, and friends of Royalty (les chevaliers de poignard) rally round the son of sixty kings. We all know the issue: chevaliers retreated with greater expedition than they came—flung ignominiously downstairs into the darkness of the Tuileries garden, accelerated by ignominious shovings from the sentries—‘spurnings a posteriori, not to be named.’[140] Our veracious chronicler the fan provides us with a representation of the scene. The inscription, ‘Arestation e Désarmement de gens au suspects Chau des thuileries le 28 Fer 1791 à 10h du soir,’ with six verses of a revolutionary song, entitled, ‘La Soirée des Poignards,’ the refrain:
‘Quoi l’habit bleu vous fait peur
Valeureux Aristocrates,
Quoi l’habit bleu vous fait peur
Brave ci-devant Seigneur.’
The event of the 2nd of April could not pass without the fan’s comment; we therefore have a medallion profile portrait of Mirabeau, inscribed, ‘Honoré Gabriel Riquetti, Cte de Mirabeau. Mort le 2 Avril 1791.’
A second Mirabeau fan, in the possession of M. Philippe de Saint-Albin, has in the centre a portrait bust, above which is inscribed, ‘Honoré Gabriel Riquetti Mirabeau,’ and ‘Je combattrai les factieux de tous les partis’; on either side of the portrait two medallions, the subjects including Mirabeau as tribune, and the great orator on his deathbed.
Assignat-fans, 1791, refer to the difficulties with respect to paper-money, the woes of the holders of rentes, when paper-money was not worth one-tenth of its face value, and draw a contrast between the Dives of the past and the financier of the present. On the obverse, a medley of assignats of 1791-2; on the reverse, the two Jeans, the one in ragged clothing and poor surroundings, weeping over his assignats, crying, ‘Ils sont tombés’ and
‘Vous êtes Etonnés, je m’en apperçois Bien:
Qu’avec du papier je ne possède Rien’;
the other, ‘Jean qui Rit,’ the speculator, who exchanges one louis d’or for 10,000 livres in assignats, is seated at a table with a large coffer and numerous bags filled with gold. He points to his brother ‘Jean qui Pleure’ and says, ‘Il se désole,’ and ‘A de certaines gens, je ne me suis point fié. Ce Résultat pour moi, vaut mieux que du papier.’
On several assignat-fans the money card, the seven of diamonds, is introduced, its significance being sufficiently obvious.
And royalty in its gilded saloon, what has become of it? How fares it with the poor Louis and his devoted family? That flight from the Rue de l’Échelle in the darkness of the night of the 20th June 1791, when the lady shaded in broad gypsy-hat, tapped, from sheer playfulness, with her badine—‘light little magic rod such as the Beautiful then wore—the wheel of Lafayette’s carriage as it rolled past’; this goes unrecorded, as also the incident in the village of Sainte-Menehould, when Post-master Drouet recognises a familiar face in the lady with the slouched gypsy-hat and the ‘Grosse-Tête’ in round hat and peruke. ‘Quick, Sieur Guillaume, Clerk of the Directoire, bring me a new Assignat! Drouet compares the Paper-money Picture with the Gross Head in round hat there: by Day and Night! you might say this one was an attempted engraving of the other.’[141]
And so event succeeds event—over the final tragedy of the 21st January 1793, no less than over the more piteous scene of October 16, the fan discreetly draws a veil.
| Napoleon shows his troops the channel, 1803. | Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris. |
Several fans have for their subject the Testament du Louis XVI., and give medallion portraits of the king and various members of his family, with the symbol of immortality; the inscription, ‘Testament De Louis Seize, Né Le 23 Aoust 1754. Mort le Lundi 21 Janvier 1793.’ On the sides or reverse of the fans, the will written out at length.
In ‘Le Songe,’ a female figure is represented asleep; on a tomb in the centre of the fan, a figure of Louis appears when the fan is placed against the light; the representation being veiled or concealed by means of a thin piece of paper pasted over it.
Mourning-fans were common with the more loyal portion of the community; these also consisted of concealed portraits of Louis and his family, and are usually decorated with black gauze and spangles; the inscription, ‘Vive le Roi!’
A favourite device was a pansy or heart’s-ease (‘that’s for thoughts’), with the portraits appearing on the principal petal, upon the fan being held against the light. These obtained later, when popular opinion, becoming tired of the Revolution and its consequences, was again veering round in the direction of Royalty.
But who is this pale-faced citoyenne of aristocratic mien, in high ‘constitutional’ hat, with black cockade, fan in hand, asking leave to speak with citizen Marat?... Charlotte’s fan is mentioned in the deposition of Laurent Bas, who was working in the house at the time; certain it is that the fan was not relinquished when the blow was struck. The ‘trade,’ fearful lest the event should cast discredit on their goods, immediately brought out fans ‘à la Marat.’ The most popular of these reproduce the tribune with Lepelletier, Charlier, and Barras. This, with its burden of pikes and caps of Liberty, was bought by the Jacobin customers at forty-eight livres a gross. An example occurs in the Bibliothèque Nationale, where, singularly enough, it is pasted in an album bearing the arms of Marie-Antoinette, and is believed to have been arranged by the queen herself.[142]
On another fan, ‘Liberty’ is seated between medallion portraits of Marat and Lepelletier; the inscription, ‘Marat,’ ‘Liberté Unité,’ ‘Peletier.’ Ultimately the event itself figured as the principal subject of a fan, Charlotte being represented as carrying a dagger in one hand and a fan in the other.
The debate on the 4th February 1794 on the abolition of the slave-trade forms the subject of a fan (illustrated). Three years previously, Grégoire and Robespierre had passed an act whereby coloured persons born of free parents were placed on an equality with whites. The fan-makers, ever ready to seize upon a popular incident, promptly issued a fan with five figures, representing ‘France,’ ‘Mercury,’ ‘The Colonies,’ ‘England,’ and the ‘United States,’ holding scrolls with inscriptions in English, heraldic devices on either side. La France, with shield bearing staff of Unity and cap of Liberty, is saying, ‘We find true happiness but by making others happy.’ Mercury, holding fetters, says, ‘Don’t go to deceive me nor believe you will escape. I extend my power over Sea and Land, and my vengeance will find you even at the end of the World.’ ‘The Colonies,’ dressed after the fashion of Marmontel’s Incas, exclaims, ‘Charming hope of Liberty, come and comfort my agitated heart.’ England, crowned, with a leopard crouching at her feet, and holding ‘The Colonies’ by the hand, says, ‘She offers me Guineas.’ The United States is represented by a black woman, plumed, with a sheath of arrows over her shoulder; the inscription, ‘Independence and trade all over the globe.’ The etching is signed ‘Martin.’
| The projected invasion of England by Napoleon, 1803. | Bibliothèque Nationale. |
Cabriolets had appeared much earlier, and had continued in favour. These formed the subject of printed as well as painted fans.[143] From Cabriolets it is but a step to Incroyables, who had their incredible cabriolets as well as their racehorses with slim legs and tails cropped almost to the root, the fan-makers indulging the public in their new-found Anglomania. In these curious prints, a number of which were produced by Carl Vernet, everything is incredible—the wheels of the ‘cabs’ incredibly thin, the seats incredibly high, the figures of both sexes incredibly tall and attenuated. ‘Cabriolets,’ says Mercier, ‘are made lighter every day to give increased speed in the race for wealth.... There are now three things to admire in a fashionable “cab”—the silver body, the wheels, and the horse; the whole thing, including the owner and his groom, ought not to weigh more than a good-sized portmanteau.’
Incredibility became the order of the day. The fashionables, who abhorred the Revolution, adopted an incredible method of demonstrating their sentiments; hair was cut incredibly short behind, as it had been cut for the victims of the scaffold during the reign of terror. Further to recall the scene, they let it fall as at the moment of execution over their eyes, this being the style à la victime. A balle des victimes was given by its votaries, to which no woman was admitted who had not had a relative guillotined.[144]
Once again assignat-fans made their appearance: upon the death of the Republic and the birth of the Directoire, when the pendulum of public opinion was once more swinging in the direction of Royalism, the assignats being arranged so that the king’s head appeared in the centre of the fan. These, with defiant glances, were fluttered under the noses of the police by the fair aristocrats of the Palàis Égalité.[145]
Then came the period of the worship of Nature and the triumph of Rousseau, with the cry of ‘Long live the author of Émile, Le Contrat Social, La Nouvelle Héloïse!’, Jean-Jacques being glorified in a triumphal car drawn by two bullocks garlanded with roses.[146]
During the temporary lull by which every storm is followed, the preternaturally high-waisted ladies banished ennui by devotion to the Love-God; and we have many ‘Ruses de l’Amour’, ‘Triomphes de l’Amour,
etc. Cagliostro had some years previously departed pour ‘l’Isle de Malthe.’ Marat, Danton, Robespierre, had been severally removed from the scene of their activities: the fan-makers were at the point of despair at the absence of a new sensation, when—enter le petit Caporal!!!
Among the myriad fans recording the multifarious activities of this amazing personality,[147] we have a representation of Wurmser surrendering his sword to the young general, a small medallion on either side of the battle, and a view of the city: the inscription, ‘A Buonaparte Vienen.’ The border, formed of the word ‘Buonaparte’ in large capitals surrounded by rays of light, these alternated by laurel wreaths; the fan excellently engraved by Bertaux.
At the psychological moment of Bonaparte’s appearance at the banquet given in his honour at the ‘Salle d’audience, 10 Dec. 1797.’ his ‘star,’ in the shape of the planet Venus, appeared in the heavens at midday. Here indeed was an opportunity for the fan-makers, who promptly produced a fan of an astrologer with telescope, surrounded by an excited crowd, who declared the appearance to be a comet. This, says Henri Bouchot, gave the signal to the Agréables who dressed themselves and their hair à la comète, à l’étoile, and showered stars in all directions.
We also have a reference to the proposals of peace to the allied powers by Napoleon on his elevation as First Consul in 1799. Bonaparte is here crowned by Fame and Peace; points to a map of Europe held by a figure of the French Republic, who also bears the tricolour inscribed, ‘Nouvelles Républiques, Règne des Arts, Alliance avec les Français.’ From a pedestal the French cock utters its clarion note. To the left, Victory inscribes on a monument the names of Napoleon’s generals. Above in a glory the legend, ‘Paix Glorieuse An VI.’
| Adventure in Russia. | Schreiber Collection British Museum. |
| Marriage of Napoleon with Marie Louise. | Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris. |
On another fan referring to the same event, Napoleon is discovered standing by a figure of Peace who bears the olive branch; the inscription, ‘Bonaparte et La Paix.’ Right and left are figures of Commerce and Agriculture, and in the background a group of peasants express their joy.
In the really handsome fan engraved in stipple by Godefroy we have an apotheosis of Bonaparte. A bust of the Emperor within an oak wreath occupies the centre, with the genii of Immortality and Plenty bearing their attributes; on either side, allegories of Peace and War in medallions associated with arabesque. The inscription, ‘Dessiné Par Chaudet, Fontaine et Persier; Gravé Par Godefroy.’[148]
The great ‘Descente en Angleterre, 1803,’ forms the subject of a number of fans. Napoleon, to the accompaniment of Fame’s trumpet and the rataplan of the drum-major, shows his troops the Channel, and points to St. Paul’s(!) and the Tower (French version), on an island.
The Channel is tunnelled (in imagination), troops pour through with ammunition, cannon, and other paraphernalia of war. Above, a fleet of vessels on the sea, and an army of balloons in the air, invade the devoted island, which defends itself by means of captive kites, sky rockets, and the guns booming from the fortifications at Dover. This in several versions.[149]
The crowning of Napoleon as King of Italy at Milan, on May 23, 1805, is recorded, as also the Peace of Tilsit, 1807, by which Prussia was stripped of almost half of its territory. On this latter fan, Napoleon, the Emperor Alexander, and the King of Prussia appear on a raft.
In 1810 the Emperor, in all the bravery of feathers, leads the Archduchess Marie-Louise to the altar of Hymen; La France offering a diadem of stars.
Of fans referring to the Russian campaign of 1812 two appear in the Schreiber collection. In the one, Napoleon is seen on horseback, attended by a general, surveying his army, the troops saluting; in the other, the journey to Paris in a sledge drawn by three horses at full gallop, Napoleon, wrapped up in furs, looking back on the wounded and dead lying in the snow. Both fans inscribed, ‘Aventuras de Bonaparte en Rusia en 1812.’
In the subject of the Nicaragua Canal the fan assumes the role of prophet, and with this we must bring to a close this brief carnival of a century. On the 12 Vendémiaire of the year XII., one Martin la Bastide deposited in the Bibliothèque Nationale two prints of a fan setting forth his scheme for uniting two oceans through the lake of Nicaragua. He had already made the suggestion twelve years previously in Laborde’s Histoire abrégée de la mer du Sud.
He was not, however, the first to demonstrate the feasibility of cutting a canal at Nicaragua; a similar proposal had been made by the Portuguese navigator, Antonio Galvão, as early as 1550, and in the following year the Spanish historian, Gómara, submitted a memorial to Philip II., urging in forcible terms that the work be undertaken forthwith. ‘The project was, nevertheless, opposed by the Spanish Government, who concluded that a monopoly of communication with their possessions in the New World was of greater importance than a passage by sea to Cathay.’[150]
Two fans referring to this subject appear in the Schreiber collection; in the one, the map of Central America on the front, and of North America on the reverse, a portion missing: and in the other, the composition complete. The fan is adorned with, on the left, a group of allegorical figures of the four Regions of the world listening to Mercury, the god of commerce, who points out the course of the proposed canal; on the right, a reference to La Bastide’s appeal to the King of Spain, who is here listening to the voice of France urging him to complete the canal; and an elaborate border of ships, tritons, etc., with a summary of La Bastide’s investigations. Alas for vain hopes, and the futility of human endeavour, the best laid schemes are often doomed to disappointment, and it was not until nearly a century had elapsed that the canal, which La Bastide foresaw, though as through a glass darkly, had any prospect of realisation.[151]
IVORY FAN. (Madras. Nineteenth Century.)