“You must know, madam,” replies the silhouettist, “that it is according to the rule of perspective. Do you not see that John is at least six yards farther in the background than his brother?”
“Yes! but his is cut smaller,” persists the aggrieved parent.
Gentlemen demanding ladies’ profiles were refused by this veritable Mrs. Grundy of silhouettists. His refusal is given in language worthy of the Fairchild family.
“Ladies are never exhibited, nor duplicates of their likenesses either sold or delivered to anyone but themselves or by their special order. This resolution I have taken, and I follow it very strictly, being fully aware of the consequence that would result if this measure was not adopted. Gentlemen presume that they are entitled to possess the likenesses of any ladies they like. But no—no—they cannot deceive me by false pretences. I am too much upon my guard to be surprised. The books in which I keep duplicates are all defended with a patent lock.”
Monsieur Edouart rivals the serpent in wiliness when a lady’s portrait is so desired and the gentleman offers the address where it should be sent. The artist says, “I do not require to know your direction, gentlemen. I know that of the lady, to whom I shall send it, and she herself will deliver it to you.” We should imagine that, under those conditions, orders were usually cancelled.
“Some make themselves pass for relations,” adds Edouart, who is not without a sense of humour, though he does take himself so seriously, “as a brother, cousin, uncle, etc., but all this is in vain.”
Edouart seems to have used special means of his own to extract payment of debts, and his illustration “The Screw” shows in what manner his clients were brought to book. The episode is described at great length in his book, but unfortunately the name of the sitter for “The Screw” is withheld. Briefly, a young man had his portrait cut, approved of the likeness, but regretted, after seeing a picture of a friend in a dress-coat, that he had not also worn that kind. In a very rude manner he said he would not pay for the completed likeness until another was done in a dress-coat. Edouart said he must be paid for both. This the man refused, so the artist refused to cut the second picture and was left with the portrait on his hands. To cut the screw and add the ring and hook was the work of a few moments, and the picture was then exhibited in a conspicuous position in the window, where everyone recognised it. “Since that time, I have not had occasion to make a screw,” adds Edouart, naïvely.
The subject of caricature in silhouette is a very interesting one, but cannot be fully treated here. There are few examples, and it is strange that so virile and graphic an art as that of the silhouette should show so few specimens of caricature work.
In August Edouart’s work just such aptitude for seizing the salient feature in face or figure is invariably shown which is the quality most required by the caricaturist, but Edouart never allows his scissors to swerve from faithful and exact portrayal; no note of exaggeration is seen even when executing the fine studies, such as his beggar and itinerant groups in the streets of Bath or Cheltenham.
In the figure of George Cary, porter at Price’s auction rooms, Bath, taken April 4th, 1827, there is no exaggeration. The man appears balancing two fine candlesticks on a small tray; the unerring likeness is self-evident. It is the same with the blind gingerbread-seller of Gay Street; the bill-sticker who is about to paste up one of Edouart’s own labels; John Hulbert, the old scavenger; and with several of the no less clever street characters of Bath. In these we see consummate skill in depicting the man or woman in life as they were, but with no sense of bias towards caricature.