Portrait Miniatures

by George C. Williamson

If, as seems most probable, the attribution of this portrait is correct, it gives us a view of Milton at a period of his life of which we have no other portrait, for it must have been painted when he Was about 48, and it bears out Aubrey's remarks about him, in which he speaks of his reddish hair, of his "exceeding fayre complexion," of his oval face, and tells us that he was "a spare man." Apparently it was never engraved, and Deborah Milton seems to have known nothing about it, but as she was quite a child when her father's second wife died, and as the portrait passed away from the Milton family so quickly, it is very natural that we should have no other record of it than the miniature itself.

We now come to the eighteenth century, and without referring in detail to the men who preceded the foundation of the Royal Academy, would just mention one of the prominent miniature painters of the early days of the century, Christian Richter by name. He was the son of a Swedish silversmith who came to England in the time of Queen Anne, and settled down with his brother, who was a medallist and a die-sinker. His work is luminous and distinguished, marked by rather an excessive brilliance of red in the carnations, but by a very handsome colour scheme as a rule; the example we give in our colour plates, the portrait of Prince George of Denmark, the consort of Queen Anne ([Plate XI.]) from the Hodgkins collection, setting forth his characteristics in a satisfactory fashion.

The catalogues of the Royal Academy are full of the names of miniature painters. The period of its foundation was prolific in the number of limners it produced. Miniature painting was the fashion. There were half-a-dozen important painters, and two or three hundred lesser men. The greater men stand out distinctly. Of the lesser men, many are only names to us. Here and there we have scraps of information respecting their history, details concerning the place where they resided, a few dates, and now and again an inscription on the back of a miniature to guide us; but of the vast majority of those who exhibited at the early exhibitions we know little, and of many of them it is not necessary that we should know very much, as their work was neither especially remarkable, nor especially praiseworthy. In considering this period, however, one comment must be made. As a rule, each painter was individual and characteristic. He allowed the personal equation to take an important part in his work, and when the expert is once familiar with the characteristics of the painter, his miniatures can be found quite readily whether signed or not. It is this special personal quality which distinguishes the painters of the period from the host of miniature painters of the present day who have striven to revivify the art, but who in many cases have become mere copyists, and have not allowed personal characteristics to distinguish their work. With the names of the great painters many are familiar, Cosway, Plimer, Smart, Ozias Humphry, Engleheart, Edridge, and Grimaldi are all well known, and the collector is more or less familiar with the names of a few of the minor painters whose works are worth collecting, as, for example, Nathaniel and Horace Hone, Vaslet, and others. There is neither opportunity nor need, in an essay of this sort, to refer to them in detail, because we are not concerned here with anything more than a broad survey of the miniature art, and must not confine our attention to England only. The painters of the eighteenth-century offer a sharp contrast to those of the seventeenth, and comparison only makes the contrast the more evident. In the work of Cooper we have strength, power, dignity; in that of Cosway and of the artists of his period is refinement, dexterity, fascination, a spice of flippancy and at times a certain meretricious quality, but this latter is far less seen in Cosway himself than in the work of his followers and admirers. The public demanded something quite different from the artists of the eighteenth century from that which they asked of the earlier school; the work had to be done more quickly, and it must be more charming, sensitive, and radiant. In his skill for giving his sitters exactly what they wanted, and in setting forth on the ivory the dainty grace of the women of the eighteenth century, there was no one who could approach within measurable distance of Cosway himself; and there is a marvellous fascination about his exquisite work, an individuality which belongs exactly to the period and represents it in all its grace, lightness and flippancy.

Undoubtedly the nearest in merit to Cosway was Andrew Plimer, and some of his works are fascinating in their beauty, but in charm they are never equal to those of Cosway, and the peculiar mannerisms of the artist prevent them from being altogether satisfactory. Plimer had very little power of composition, and he invariably over-accentuated the eyes of his sitters, and constantly repeated a favourite pose either of head or figure, while the extraordinary wiry manner in which he delineated the hair marks out his work at once. Quite as noticeable is his affection for the appearance of his own daughters, and the very shape of their necks and brilliance of their eyes can be seen repeated over and over again in his portraits of other sitters. Less than most of his contemporaries was he able to break away from a strong personal characteristic; and eventually it became a species of obsession with him, so that his female portraits strikingly resemble one another.

John Smart was a painter of a different type, serious, solid, painstaking. His facial modelling is extraordinary in its accuracy, and his works, like those of Engleheart, appear to have been preferred by the more serious persons in society, whereas those of Cosway and Plimer were particularly appreciated by the gay and frivolous ladies of the Court circle, whose sun and centre was the Prince Regent.

There are miniatures by Cosway which are of pre-eminent beauty, so lightly and with such exquisite skill are they floated upon the ivory. The quality of the material had, of course, an intimate connection with the art of the painter. The seventeenth-century artists knew nothing of the brilliant surface of ivory, although it is possible that one at least of them had an inkling that a more luminous material than vellum, cardboard, or chicken-skin, could be found. There are two miniatures in existence, one of which is in the possession of the author of these pages, the work of Cooper, which are not painted on any of the materials usually adopted by him. This latter is painted on what was at first thought to be a piece of ivory, but microscopic investigation has revealed the fact that it is polished mutton-bone, and the painter has so altered his technique to adapt it to this curious experiment, that for the first moment one would hardly believe the miniature to be by Cooper at all. Its pedigree is, however, unassailable, and a closer investigation reveals many of the master's characteristics, but it is painted with a very fine brush, quite different to the usual broad, full sweep of his work, and it stands out as an interesting experiment on the part of the great painter, who was searching for some material more suitable for a particular style of work. Ivory was not employed until the time of William III., and it seems probable that one of the Lens family was the first to make use of it; but, once adopted, its use became very general, and in the prolific period of the eighteenth century, almost universal.

Cosway is said to have experimented in enamel, and certainly one enamel portrait, with his initials, is in existence. He drew very skilfully on paper, and a few of his miniatures are on that material. One of his works, signed and dated, is on silk, but all these were only experiments, and the greater number of his miniatures are on ivory, which material lends itself perfectly to his craft. In our opinion the finest miniature Cosway ever produced was his unfinished sketch of Madame du Barry, one of the greatest treasures of Mr. Pierpont Morgan's collection, and by his kind permission illustrated here in monotone ([Plate XII.]). It was painted in 1791 on the occasion when Madame du Barry came over to England to recover her jewels, and on her third visit to this country in that year. From this portrait a stipple engraving was made by Condé in 1794, but the miniature itself came into the possession of the Vernons, having belonged to a Miss Caroline Vernon who was maid of honour to Queen Charlotte. It was sold in London in 1902, when it passed to its present owner, and in grace, sweetness, and fascination, is unrivalled, even amongst his wonderful treasures.

Another delightful portrait from the same collection represents the oft-painted Henrietta, Lady Duncannon, who was afterwards Countess of Bessborough ([Plate XIV., No. 2]). She was sister to Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, and seems to have spent a great deal of her time in sitting for her portrait, all the artists of the day having painted her. This miniature is remarkable for the fact that it still remains in its original frame, a very magnificent one, richly set with superb diamonds.

Yet another charming portrait by Cosway ([Plate XIV., No. 1]) came from the Truro collection to Mr. Morgan. It represents Lady Augusta Murray, the daughter of Lord Dunmore, who became the wife of the Duke of Sussex, the 6th son of George III. It was her marriage which, although twice performed, in Rome and at St. George's, Hanover Square, was declared null and void under the Royal Marriage Act (12 Geo. III. cap. 11). Her daughter was Lady Truro. Lady Augusta was only painted twice, and on both occasions by Cosway.

Our coloured illustrations include three portraits of women by Cosway, Viscountess St. Asaph ([Plate XIII.]), the Countess of Rochford ([Plate XV.]) and Princess Charlotte ([Plate XVI.]), all of them distinguished by Cosway's special method of painting the hair, and marked by that inimitable grace in which he excelled.