The ivory stick—the mount has long since perished, if it ever possessed one—acquired by the Louvre, and formerly in the collection Revoil, in 1828, is said to have been once the property of Marie-Antoinette. The brins carved are with a subject of the king, with the two royal princes on his right hand, receiving a deputation of ministers, the whole enclosed within a florid and meandering cartouche, the background and diapers à jour. On the panaches appear figures of Louis and Marie-Antoinette, above their heads two genii bear the royal crown; on the gorge are medallions of Cupids, with tragic and comic masks.
Here, then, we have two typical examples of the ivory work of the last quarter of the eighteenth century, the best, presumably, that the epoch could produce, since both were executed for the queen.
The last named, last also in the order of production, although it carries picturesque richness of effect to its utmost possible limit, nevertheless represents a worn-out tradition, an art which had become moribund, lifeless, incapable of any fresh effort, repeating the same tiresome platitudes with wearing and monotonous persistency; the former, on the other hand, indicative of the commencement of that regeneration of French art, which, inaugurated by Vien, ultimately resulted in the creation of a school of painting and design, finding, in the vitality of its poetic invention, no parallel in modern Europe, and making its influence felt even to the present day.
The reign of Spartan simplicity of dress commenced early, and was brought about by several causes, the first being the visit to Paris of the American deputies, headed by Benjamin Franklin, 1776-78. Thus Count de Ségur in his ‘Memoirs’: ‘It was as if the sages of Greece and Rome had suddenly appeared; their antique simplicity of dress, their firm and plain demeanour, their free and direct language, formed a contrast to the frivolity, effeminacy, and servile refinements of the French. The tide of fashion and nobility ran after these republicans, and ladies, lords, and men of letters all worshipped them.’
Among other contributory causes was the publication of Saint-Pierre’s novel, Paul et Virginie, in which the heroine is described as being attired in a simple robe of white muslin, with plain straw hat, a picture which instantly captivated the Parisiennes. Moreover, the classic revival which set in about the middle of the century had gathered force, so that by the commencement of the Revolution the time had become ripe for a complete change. While the ladies were attired à la Grec, the gentlemen cropped their hair à la Romain.
The fan followed the prevailing order of things, and affected simplicity. During the period of the Directoire, and the Empire which succeeded, the painted mounts gradually disappeared, their place being taken by those of silk of various colours, ornamented with spangles and similar devices.
The mount of Miss Ethel Birdwood’s fan, an excellent example of the simple type, is most certainly French, obtained in France by the grandparents of Sir George, who were expelled Huguenots, and sent out by them to Canton to be mounted. The stick is admirably in keeping with the reticent character of the mount, and exhibits no trace of the characteristic Oriental vice of excess in ornamental detail.
| Directoire Fan, green silk mount, spangled
mother of pearl stick carved à jour. ‘Sans Gene’ & Directoire Fans, red silk mounts, sticks ivory and ebony respectively. | Miss Ethel Travers Birdwood. Mr L. C. R. Messel. |