Women artists in all ages and countries

by E. F. Ellet

She loved to read books relating to artists better than any thing else, though fond of study in general, and her partiality for sketching was indulged whenever she had opportunity. Having observed the work of a profile-cutter who chanced to come into the neighborhood, she persevered in attempts at portraits, and practiced cutting them out of leaves and paper. She had a beautiful young sister, and often prevailed on her to sit, improving day by day in her untutored efforts, till at last she was able, by the eye, to take a correct likeness.

Her next achievement was copying the figures and decorations of Indian chiefs, who not unfrequently came into the little village. A servant girl, fifteen years old, who was employed in her father’s family, knew how to sketch houses, and this knowledge was willingly imparted to little Mary. Her pictures, though rude in design and execution, were in great demand among her schoolfellows; but Mrs. Pillsbury thought the study of painting would interfere with more important branches, and that a thorough English education should first be acquired. The young girl, however, could not be prevented from watching the drawing-lessons of other scholars. She would practice at home; and so earnest was her application that it was not long before she produced a drawing agreed on all sides to be superior to the exercises of the regular pupils.

For the colors of her flowers Mary used beet-juice, extract of bean leaves prepared by herself, etc., till the welcome present of a box of paints made her independent of such contrivances. The romantic scenery surrounding her home had now a new charm. Day after day she would wander about the fields and woods, sketching, and indulging in visions of an artistic life. When twelve years old, one day she accompanied her parents to Sutton, in New Hampshire. A protracted meeting was held, and her father was to preach. Paying little attention to the doctrines promulgated, as formerly Mary occupied herself in scanning new faces in the rural assemblage. Near the place of meeting was the colossal figure of the Goddess of Liberty, richly arrayed, and painted in colors by a Free-will Baptist preacher. She obtained a seat close to the window during one of the services, and carefully studied what appeared to her a perfect triumph of art. After she went home she produced a clever sketch of it. From this time goddesses of liberty multiplied in her hands, and became famous in the school and neighborhood. One of them was actually put into a magazine. So creditable were they considered, that a rather unscrupulous young girl of her acquaintance presented one to her lover as her own work; and when he challenged her to produce another, she came to persuade Mary to make it for her.

Caring little for the sports and pleasures of her age, it was Mary’s habit to shut herself up in her father’s study, and, seated upon the shelves, to read over and over again the biographies of great men and distinguished women. She kept in advance of all the school-girls meanwhile, and improved in her drawing during the hours stolen from her spinning-tasks and the duties involved in taking care of the other children. She entered now on the reading of the standard and classical works contained in her father’s library, and a new world seemed opening before her. Ambitious longings and dreams broke on the monotony of her lonely life. She resolved to become an artist like those persons of whom she had read, and compel appreciation from the world. But the mode of accomplishing her wishes perplexed her. She saw that it would be necessary to leave home and try her fortune among strangers; but she loved to picture the day when she would return, laden with honors and a rich reward for her labors—when her family would be proud of her success.

When about fourteen, she determined to take the first step toward the goal she panted to reach. Secretly she quitted her home, taking with her only a change of dress, and set out to walk through the forest to Hopkinton, on the way to Concord, where she intended to take up her abode temporarily, to earn a little money by her labor, and then establish herself as an artist. She walked thirty miles that day, and very late at night came to a small house in the country, at which she stopped, requesting permission to warm and rest herself. The simple people appeared surprised to see so young a girl traveling alone and so far from home. They inquired into the particulars of her story with curious interest, and earnestly pressed her to stay all night. She consented, and supper was prepared for her, after which she went to sleep, wearied with the day’s fatiguing journey.

On waking the next morning a strangely familiar voice struck her ear. She dressed hastily, and went down into the parlor, where she found her uncle, who had come that far in search of her. Both wept at the unexpected meeting; but when she had recovered from her confusion, Mary begged to be permitted to go on to Concord. This was decidedly refused, and, reluctant and mortified at the failure of her romantic enterprise, she was obliged to consent to be taken home.

She was received with tears and embraces by her family, and no word of reproach, nor even a distant allusion to her disobedience, followed her attempt to escape from the restraint of parental authority. The family seemed to be sensible that she had been hardly dealt with; for the dreams of youthful hope have significance, and nature’s bent should not be too rudely thwarted. From this time more indulgence was shown to her frequent neglect of work in which she felt no pleasure, and to her devotion to books. She engaged in her studies more ardently than ever.

Mr. Pillsbury was not rich, and his daughter had the prospect of being ultimately obliged to depend on her earnings for a subsistence. It was her desire to enter as soon as possible on the life whose hardships she expected to encounter and overcome. She wished to go beyond the mountains, into the beautiful world on the other side. To her imagination the soft and roseate tints reposing on those far-off summits were emblematic of the delights in store for her. But her parents opposed her wishes, and urged her to remain with them, for some years at least.

She was about nineteen when, on a visit to Lynn, she saw a portrait painted by a lady, which seized her attention amid a collection of indifferent pictures. The longing to be a painter again possessed her so strongly that she felt it an irresistible passion. Her first plan was to accompany the lady to Washington and take lessons, but this scheme was abandoned. About a year after this she went to Boston. Passing a shop window, she saw a fine painting, that once more enkindled the flame of artist ambition in her soul. Her determination was formed. With the sanguine hopes of youth, she fancied that a year’s preparation would enable her to paint professionally. She accordingly devoted herself to the practice of her art with that view. Her friends ridiculed the idea of her becoming an artist for a livelihood, and predicted the failure of her scheme without powerful patronage.

But this kind of opposition no longer discouraged her, though she was much hampered by the want of time. The winter was rapidly approaching, and she felt that it should not pass without some advance in her beloved studies. She now resolved to go to some place southward where she could see an artist work, and to paint cheap pictures for her own support, living plainly in the country till her lessons were completed. It seemed that she must either do this or die.