Women artists in all ages and countries

by E. F. Ellet

The daughter shared in the mother’s chivalrous sentiments, and her cherished ideas of monarchy and Romanism became perceptible in her conversation and works, while her self-sacrificing spirit of loyalty remained the same amid many vicissitudes. Owing to pecuniary losses, her parents were compelled, while she was yet very young, to remove successively to Limoux, Bayonne, and Besançon. While at Bayonne, in 1823, she met with many partisans in the war then raging on the frontiers of Spain—men whose loyalty amounted to fanaticism, and whose piety belonged to the ancient time of the Crusades; from these her youthful imagination must have received powerful and indelible impressions.

Her studies were varied and profound; ancient history, classic and modern languages, heraldry, and archæology received her devoted attention. The feudal and chivalric traditions of the Middle Ages were explored with eagerness by her, and she reproduced and utilized the knowledge thus acquired. During her residence in Besançon, she executed some oil-paintings which were much praised; but she seemed to feel that canvas was not the material which would most fully express her ideas. She had then received no instruction in modeling. One day, in her walk, she paused before the shop of one of the workmen who carve images of virgins and saints for village churches. Impelled irresistibly, she entered and made inquiries as to the method of work, learning thus the secrets of modeling in clay or wax, and of carving wood or gold. It then appeared that her vocation was decidedly for the plastic art. She had the faculty of coloring with skill, and might have been a great painter, had she not resolved to be a sculptor. Her taste led her to adopt the mediæval manner, and she took Benevenuto Cellini for her prototype, occupying herself with art in both its monumental and, decorative character.

At the death of her father, the family—consisting of the widow, two sons and three daughters—was in some distress. Felicie determined to devote her talents to their support. Some of her friends objected that such employment was unbecoming one who belonged to a noble family. “Unbecoming!” said she, drawing herself up with a noble pride; “Sachez qu’un artiste tel que moi est gentilhomme.”

The first work she exhibited was a group from Scott’s novel, “The Abbot.” Encouraged by its brilliant success, she produced a basso-relievo, consisting of six figures—Christina of Sweden and Monaldeschi in the fatal gallery of Fontainebleau. This work was in the Exposition des Beaux Arts, and it received from Charles X. in person the gold medal awarded by the jury. The dramatic energy of the group, the expression of the figures, and the beauty of the minor details won universal admiration, and it was hailed as offering the brightest promise of future excellence. The triumphant artist was then a girl in the bloom of early youth; and, flattered and delighted at the appreciation she met with, it is not to be wondered at that her resolution to adhere to the career she had chosen was steadfast and immovable.

Felicie remained in Paris with her family till 1830. Her mother’s house was the centre of a charming circle of persons of high rank, of cultivated women, and of accomplished artists, such as Scheffer, Steuben, Gassier, Paul Delaroche, Triqueti, Gros, Giraud, etc. So distinguished and agreeable was the mother, so sensible and so witty was the conversation of the daughter, that their society was coveted and prized. The friends assembled of an evening in their drawing-room would gather round a large centre-table, and improvise drawings in pencil, chalk, and pen and ink; or would model, in clay or wax, brooches and ornaments, sword handles and scabbards, dagger-hilts, etc. The young lady wished to revive those famous days when sculpture lent its aid to the gold and silver smith, the jeweler, the clock-maker, and the armorer. To her may be chiefly attributed the impulse given to this taste in Paris—a taste that infected England also, reviving mediæval fashions for ornaments, and also mediæval feelings and aspirations, which at last found expression in Puseyism in religion, and pre-Raphaelism in art.

She executed, for Count Portalès, a bronze lamp of singular beauty, representing a bivouac of archangels armed as knights. They are resting round a watch-fire, while one, St. Michael, is standing sentinel. It is in the old Anglo-Saxon style. Round the lamp, in golden letters, is the device, “Vaillant, veillant.” Beneath is a stork’s foot holding a pebble, a symbol of vigilance, surrounded by beautiful aquatic plants. The work was poetically conceived, and executed with great spirit and finish. She also commenced a work which she called “a monument to Dante,” and sketched an equestrian statue of Charles VIII. On returning from the expedition to Naples, it was said, the monarch paused on the ascent of the Alps, and turned to take a last farewell of the beautiful country—“wooed, not wed”—which he so unwillingly abandoned. The sculptress was most successful in rendering this expression of sadness and yearning. The pose of the horse was natural, yet commanding; and the work would doubtless have been a master-piece; but, unfortunately, the model had to be destroyed, on the breaking up of her studio.

Mademoiselle de Fauveau had now acquired an eminence and gained a celebrity which must have satisfied the most ambitious. She was incessantly occupied with commissions for most of the private galleries in France; and a place was promised her among those great artists who are employed to adorn public monuments, and whose works enrich public collections. She was to have modeled two doors for the gallery in the Louvre, after the manner of Ghiberti’s Gates of Paradise; a baptistery and pulpit in one of the metropolitan churches had been already spoken of, when the revolution of 1830 broke up this calm and noble existence, and ended her career in Paris.

To Mademoiselle de Fauveau, with her extreme opinions, this revolution was a personal calamity. She had identified the glory and greatness of France with the elder branch of the Bourbons. The times for her were evil and out of joint; she abhorred the Paris which had overthrown what she considered a legitimate, to set up a pseudo royalty, and she longed, with all the concentration and single-mindedness of her character, for an opportunity of leaving the city. This soon presented itself. Among other noble and distinguished persons who were proud of their acquaintance with this gifted woman, were members of the Duras family. The married daughter, who bore the beloved but fatal name of La Roche Jacquelein, sympathized entirely with the opinions and feelings of her namesake, Felicie. She invited the artist to leave Paris, and accompany her on a visit to her estates in La Vendée. During this visit, which was at first considered a mere relaxation from severe labor and study, riding, shooting, and hunting took the place of designing, modeling, and casting. But, after a while, a more serious purpose was contemplated, and a loftier end proposed. Mademoiselle de Fauveau found herself in the thick of a political conspiracy. A regular chouannerie was organized, and our poetical artist distinguished herself by her spirit, energy, and determination. To this day the peasantry in that part of France always speak of her as “la demoiselle.”

The authorities at last took umbrage, and a domiciliary visit was made to the chateau. The two ladies, warned in time, escaped, and took refuge in a neighboring farm-house. But arms and ammunitions were found in the chateau, with compromising letters and treasonable symbols. Orders were given to pursue and arrest the fugitives. The farm-house was searched in vain; the peasants were questioned, but their fidelity was unimpeachable. Unfortunately, however, some faint sounds were heard behind an oven; the grated door was removed, and the two rebels, who had so nearly defeated the search of their pursuers, were discovered, arrested, and sent under a strong guard to Angers.

At the first stage they stopped at an inn. The captives were conducted to a room up stairs; the door was locked, and their guards descended to the kitchen to refresh themselves. Presently a maid-servant was sent up to receive their orders for supper. In an instant, Madame de la Roche Jacquelein made herself understood by this woman. As soon as the supper was brought up, and the door closed, she effected an exchange of clothes, and, thus disguised, descended boldly, plates in hand, to the kitchen. She quickly deposited her burden on the dresser, and then, taking up the milk-pail, announced in the pretty patois of the country her intention to fetch the milk from the dairy. It is said the lady looked so captivating in her new costume that a gallant sergeant made advances to her, which she was obliged to repress vigorously, so as to proceed unattended. She reached the dairy, went out at a back door, crossed some fields, and was soon out of reach. Mademoiselle de Fauveau remained quietly in her room, allowing the servant to sleep with her, so as to lull all suspicion, and give as much time as possible for the escape. The next morning the evasion of Madame was discovered, and caused great consternation. It was thought necessary to take the most rigid precautions, such as obliging Mademoiselle de Fauveau to have a guard in her sleeping-room, who was authorized to disturb her whenever he wished to make sure of her presence, to prevent her following her friend’s example. She was thus transferred to Angers, and remained seven months in prison.