ROYAL ONTARIO MUSEUM OF ARCHAEOLOGY
Lent to the Department of Art & Archaeology,
University of Toronto.
From the Van Home Collection.
THE LIFE OF JAMES
McNEILL WHISTLER
THE LIFE OF JAMES
McNEILL WHISTLER
BY
E. R. AND J. PENNELL
IN TWO VOLUMES
ILLUSTRATED
VOLUME II
PHILADELPHIA
J. B. LIPP1NCOTT COMPANY
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN
1908
Printed by BALLANTYNE &* Co. LIMITED
Tavistock Street, Covent Garden, London
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER XXV. AMONG FRIENDS. THE YEARS
EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-ONE TO EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-
SEVEN 1
Joseph Pennett meets Whistler — First Impressions — the "Sarasate"
— Sir Seymour Haden — Mr, Frederick KeppeFs Visit to Whistler and
his Account of it
CHAPTER XXVI. AMONG FRIENDS CONTINUED.
THE YEARS EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-ONE TO EIGHTEEN
EIGHTY SEVEN 10
Whistler's Friends in Tite Street — Sir Bennett Rood's Reminiscences
— Oscar Wilde — Reasons for the Friendship and for its short Duration
— The Followers — Their Devotion and Their Absurdities — Mr. Harper
Pennington's Reminiscences of Whistler in London
CHAPTER XXVII. THE STUDIO IN THE FULHAM
ROAD. THE YEARS EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-FIVE TO
EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-SEVEN 24
Whistler moves to the Fulham Road — Description of the new Studio —
Pictures in Progress — Dr. Booth PearsalFs Account of a Visit to it —
Mr. William M. Chase, his Portrait and His Reminiscences — Plans
to visit America
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE "TEN O'CLOCK." THE
YEARS EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-FOUR TO EIGHTEEN
EIGHTY-EIGHT 34
Whistler writes the " Ten 6 'Clock " — Proposes to Publish it as Article
— Then to Deliver it as Lecture in Ireland — Exhibition j>f his Work
in Dublin — Arranges with Mrs. D'Oyly Carte for Lecture. in London
—The "Ten o' Clock" given at Prince's Hall— The Audience— The
Critics — Analysis of the" Ten o 'Clock " — Its Delivery in Other Places —
IU Publication — Swinburne's Criticism
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER XXIX. THE BRITISH ARTISTS— THE RISE.
THE YEARS EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-FOUR TO EIGHTEEN
EIGHTY-SIX 47
Approached by the British Artists — Elected a Member of the Society —
His Position as Artist at this Period and the Position of the Society —
Seasons for the Invitation and his Acceptance — His interest in the
Society — His Contributions to its Exhibitions — The Graham Sale —
Publication of Twenty-Six Etchings by Dowdeswell's — Exhibition of
Notes, Harmonies, Nocturnes, at Dowdeswell's — Elected President of the
British Artists
CHAPTER XXX. THE BRITISH ARTISTS— THE FALL.
THE YEARS EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-SIX TO ^EIGHTEEN
EIGHTY-EIGHT 62
Whistler as President — His Decoration of the Gallery and hanging of
Pictures — Indignation by Members — Visit of the Prince of Wales —
Growing Dissatisfaction in the Society — Jubilee of Queen Victoria —
Whistler's Congratulatory Address — British Artists' made a Royal
Society — Dissatisfaction becomes Open Warfare — TJw Crisis — Wyke
Bayliss elected President — Whistler's Resignation
CHAPTER XXXI. MARRIAGE. THE YEAR EIGHTEEN
EIGHTY-EIGHT 75
Whistler's Wedding — Reception at the Tower House — His Wife — His
Devotion — Influence of Marriage
CHAPTER XXXII. WORK. THE YEARS EIGHTEEN
EIGHTY-FOUR TO EIGHTEEN NINETY 80
Water-Colours — Etchings, Belgian and Dutch — Exhibition of Dutch
Etchings — Lithographs
CHAPTER XXXIII. HONOURS— EXHIBITIONS— NEW
INTERESTS. THE YEARS EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-NINE
TO EIGHTEEN NINETY 88
Honours from Paris, Munich and Amsterdam — Dinner to Whistler —
Paris Universal Exhibition of 1889 — Exhibition of Whistler's Work in
Queen Square — Moves to 21 Cheyne Walk — M. Harry's Impressions of
the House — Portrait of Comte de Montesquiou — W. E. Henley and
"^National Observer" — New Friends
vi
CONTENTS
CHAPTER XXXIV. " THE GENTLE ART." THE YEAR
EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND NINETY 100
Whistler Collects his Letters and Writings — Work begun by Mr. Sheridan
Ford — Mr. J. McLure Hamilton's Account — Action at Antwerp to
suppress Ford's Edition — Mr. Heinemann Publishes " The Gentle Art "
for Whistler — Summary of the Book — Period of Unimportant Quarrels
CHAPTER XXXV. THE TURN OF THE TIDE. THE
YEARS EIGHTEEN NINETY-ONE TO EIGHTEEN
NINETY-TWO 114
The "Carlyle" bought by the Glasgow Corporation — "The Mother"
bought for the Luxembourg — The Exhibition at the Goupil Gallery —
Mr. D. Croal Thomson's Account
CHAPTER XXXVI. THE TURN OF THE TIDE. THE
YEARS EIGHTEEN NINETY-ONE TO EIGHTEEN
NINETY-TWO CONTINUED 124
Success of the Exhibition — The Catalogue — Commissions — Demand
for his Pictures — Mr. H. 8. Theobald's Reminiscences — Whistler's
Indignation at Sale of Early Pictures by Old Friends — Instance given
by Sir Rennell Rodd — Invited to show in Chicago Exhibition — Not
Known at R.A. — Decorations for Boston Public Library
CHAPTER XXXVII. PARIS. THE YEAR EIGHTEEN
NINETY-TWO TO NINETY-THREE 133
Whistler goes to Paris to live — Joseph Pennell with him there in 1892
and 1893 — Lithographs — Colour Work — Studio in Rue Notre-Dame-des-
Champs — Apartment in the Rue du Bac — Etchings printed — Afternoons
in the Garden — Day at Fontainebleau — Witts Signed — Mr. E. G.
Kennedy's Portrait — Rioting in the Latin Quarter
CHAPTER XXXVIII. PARIS CONTINUED. THE YEARS
EIGHTEEN NINETY-THREE TO EIGHTEEN NINETY-
FOUR 150
Whistler's Friends in Paris — Mr. MacMonniea', Mr. Walter Gay's and
Mr. Alexander Harrison's Reminiscences — Mr. A. J. Eddy's Portrait
— Portraits of Women begun
vii
CONTENTS
CHAPTER XXXIX. TRIALS AND GRIEFS. THE YEARS
EIGHTEEN NINETY-FOUR TO EIGHTEEN NINETY-
SIX 160
Du Maurier's " Trilby " — Apology — Mrs. Whistler's Ittness — The
Eden Trial — Whistler Challenges George Moore — In Lyme Regis and
London — Portraits in Lithography — Mr. S. R. Crockett's Account of the
Sittings for his Portrait — Mrs. Whistler's Death — New Will
CHAPTER XL. ALONE. THE YEAR EIGHTEEN
NINETY-SIX 173
Work and Little Journeys — Mr. E. G. Kennedy's Reminiscences —
Evenings with Whistler — Visit to the National Gallery — Whistkr goes
to live with Mr. Heinemann at Whitehall Court — Mr. Henry Savage
Landor — Mr. Edmund Heinemann — Eden Affair — Last Meeting with
Sir Seymour Haden — Christmas at Bournemouth
CHAPTER XLI. THE LITHOGRAPHY CASE. THE
YEARS EIGHTEEN NINETY-SIX TO EIGHTEEN
NINETY-SEVEN 186
Mr. Walter Sickert's Article in " Saturday Review " — Joseph Pennell
sues Him for Libel — Whistler the Principal Witness — In the Witness-
Box under Cross Examination — Verdict — Whistler's Pleasure
CHAPTER XLII. THE END OF THE EDEN CASE.
THE YEAR EIGHTEEN NINETY-SEVEN 193
M. Boldini's Portrait of Whistler — In London — Visits to Hampton —
Journey to Dieppe — The Eden Case in the Cour de Cassation — Whistler's
Triumph — " The Baronet and the Butterfly " — The Whistler Syndicate :
Company of the Butterfly
CHAPTER XLIII. BETWEEN LONDON AND PARIS.
THE YEARS EIGHTEEN NINETY-SEVEN TO NINE-
TEEN HUNDRED 202
Illness in Paris — Fever of Work — Portrait of Mr. George Vanderbilt —
Other Portraits and Models — Pictures of Children — Nudes — Pastels
— Spanish War — Journey to Italy — " Best man " at Mr. Heinemann's
Wedding — Impressions of Rome — Mr. Kerr-Lawson's Account of His
Stay in Florence — Winter in Paris — Loneliness — Meetings with old
Student Friends — Dr. Whistler's Death — Dinner at Mr. Heinemann's
Mr. Arthur Symons' Impressions of Whistler
viii
CONTENTS
PACE
CHAPTER XLIV. THE INTERNATIONAL. THE YEARS
EIGHTEEN NINETY-SEVEN TO NINETEEN HUNDRED
AND THREE 216
The International Society of Sculptors, Painters and Gravers — Whistler
Elected First President — Activity of His Interest — First Exhibition at
Knightsbridge — Second Exhibition — Difficulties — Third Exhibition at
the Royal Institute — Exhibitions on the Continent and in America —
Whistler's Presidency ends only with Death
CHAPTER XLV. THE ACADEMIE CARMEN. THE
YEARS EIGHTEEN NINETY-EIGHT TO NINETEEN
HUNDRED AND ONE 228
School opened in the Passage Stanislas, Paris — Whistler and Mr.
Frederick MacMonnies Propose to visit it — History of the School
written, at Whistler's request, by Mrs. Clifford Addams — Her Account
— His Methods — His Advice — His Palette — Misunderstandings — Mrs.
Addams apprenticed to Whistler — Men's Class discontinued — Third year
Begins with Woman's Class Alone — School Closed — Mr. Clifford
Addams made an Apprentice — Mr. MacMonnies Account — Comparison
with Other ^Art Schools
CHAPTER XLVI. THE BEGINNING OF THE END.
THE YEAR NINETEEN HUNDRED 247
Whistler authorises J. and E. It. Pennell to Write his Life and Mr.
Heinemann to publish it — Whistler gives his Reminiscences — Photo-
graphing begun in Studio — Paris Universal Exhibition — Interest in the
Boer War — The " Island " and the " Islanders " — The Pekin Massacre
and Blue Pots — Hamburg — Visit to Ireland — Sir Walter Armstrong's
Reminiscences of Whistler in Dublin — Irritation with Critics of his
Pictures in Paris — Increasing Ill-Health in the Autumn — Serious
Illness — Starts for the South
CHAPTER XLVII. IN SEARCH OF HEALTH. THE
YEARS NINETEEN HUNDRED AND ONE TO NINE-
TEEN HUNDRED AND TWO 265
Tangiers — Algiers — Marseilles — Ajaccio — Winter in Corsica — Visit
from Mr. Heinemann — Dominoes — Rests for the First Time — Return
to London in the Spring — Work in the Summer — Illness in the Autumn
— Bath — Appreciations by Mr. E. A. Walton and Mr. F. Morley
Fletcher — No. 74 Cheyne Walk — Annoyances — Journey to Holland —
Dangerous Illness in The Hague — Mr. O. Banter's Account of his Last
Visit to Franz Hals at Haarlem
ix
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER XLVIII. THE END. THE YEARS NINETEEN
HUNDRED AND TWO TO NINETEEN HUNDRED AND
THREE 288
Return to 74 Cheyne Walk — Illness — Gradual Decline — Work —
Portraits — Prints — Exhibition of Silver — Degree of LL.D. from Glasgow
University — St. Louis Exposition — Worries — Last Weeks — Death —
Funeral — Grave
APPENDIX 305
INDEX 315
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST Frontispiece
Formerly in the possession of the late George McCulloch, Esq.
To face
page
PORTRAIT OF PABLO SARASATE {Arrangement in Black) 4
In the Carnegie Institute, Pittsburgh
A GROUP IN WHISTLER'S STUDIO, TITE STREET, 1881 10
From a photograph by the Hon. F. Lawless. Lent by Ralph Curtis,
Esq.
THE GENERAL DEALER \Q
Now in the possession of J. J. Cowan, Esq.
PORTRAIT OF M. THEODORE DURET (Arrangement in Flesh Colour
and Black) 20
In the possession of M. Theodore Duret
MAUD 24
LA NOTE ROUGE 28
In the possession of Sir George A. Drurnmond
MAUD READING IN A HAMMOCK (Water-Colour) 28
In the possession of A. Buck, Esq.
A PORTRAIT (MAUD) .30
JAMES MC\EILL WHISTLER (From a bust by Sir J. E. Boehm) 36
In the possession of H.R.H. Princess Louise, Duchess of Argyll
CREMORNE GARDENS (No. II.) 40
la the possession of T. R. Way, Esq.
CHELSEA WHARF (Grey and Silver) 46
Now in the possession of P. A. B. Widener, Esq. »
THE BALCONY (Harmony in Flesh Colour and Green) 52
Now in the possession of C. L. Freer, Esq.
xi
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
To face
page
CREMORNE GARDENS (Nocturne No. III.) 60
Now in the possession of C. Conder, Esq.
WESTMINSTER (Nocturne, Blue and Silver) 60
Now in the possession of the Hon. Percy Wyndham
NOCTURNE, BATTERSEA (Lithotint) 72
LIMEHOUSE (Lithotint) 72
74 CHEVNE WALK, CHELSEA 76
TOWER HOUSE, TITE STREET, CHELSEA 76
21 CHEYNE WALK, CHELSEA 76
THE BEACH (Water- Colour) 80
In the possession of Mrs. Knowles
INTERIOR OF HALL (Water-Colour) 82
In the possession of J. J. Cowan, Esq.
THE FUR JACKET (Arrangement in Black and Brown) 84
Now in the possession of William Burrell, Esq.
NUDE FIGURE AND CUPID (Water-Colour) 86
In the possession of Madame la Comtesse de Bearn
EFFIE DEANS 88
From the picture in the Rijks Museum, Amsterdam
LITHOGRAPH 90
ANNABEL LEE (Pastel) 92
In the possession of Thomas Way, Esq.
LAMERICAINE (Arrangement in Black and While, No. I.) 100
DIEPPE J 04
Now in the possession of Douglas Freshfield, Esq.
SOUTHAMPTON WATER (Nocturne, Blue and Gold) 108
Now in the Chicago Art Institute
TRAFALGAR SQUARE, CHELSEA 1 1 6
Now in the possession of J. W. Martin White, Esq.
OLD BATTERSEA BRIDGE (Brown and Silver) 120
Now in the possession of Edmund Davis, Esq.
THE GOLD SCREEN (Caprice in Purple and Gold) 1 24
Now in the possession of C. L. Freer, Esq.
xii
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
loface
pagt
THE LAST OF OLD WESTMINSTER 126
Now in the possession of Alfred Attmore Pope, Esq.
THE CHILDREN OF F. R. LEYLAND (Pastels) 128
In the possession of Mrs. F. R. Leyland
WHISTLER AT HIS PRINTING PRESS IN THE RUE NOTRE DAME DBS
CM AMPS, PARIS 136
From a photograph by M. Dornac, Paris
IN THE STUDIO AT THE RUE NOTRE DAME DBS CHAMPS, PARIS 144
From a photograph by M. Dornac, Paris
YELLOW HOUSE, LANNION (Lithograph) 148
CAMEOS 152
In the possession of T. R. Way, Esq.
PORTRAIT OF Miss KINSELLA (The Iris, Rose and Green) J54
In the possession of Miss Kinsella
STUDIES FOR " WEARY " (Charcoal Drawings) 156
In the possession of B. B, MacGeorge, Esq.
WEARY (Dry-point) 156
LANDSCAPE 1 62
In the possession of Alexander Young, Esq.
THE LITTLE ROSE OF LVME REGIS 166
In the Boston Museum of Fine Arts (The Warren Collection)
THE MASTER SMITH OF LYME REGIS 170
In the Boston Museum of Fine Arts
A FRESHENING BREEZE 178
In the possession of John G. Ure, Esq.
BEACHING THE BOAT (Harmony in Blue and Silver) 1 84
In the possession of His Honour Judge Evans
THE PHILOSOPHER (Portrait of C. E. Holloway, Rose and Bronm) 188
In the possession of Madame la Comtesse De Beam
PORTRAIT OF MASTER STEPHEN MANUEL (Arrangement in Grey) Ip6
Formerly in the possession of the late Mrs. Manuel
PORTRAIT OF A BABY 200
In the possession of Brandon Thomas, Esq.
PORTRAIT OF WHISTLER (Pen and Ink Study for Portrait, Bronm
and Gold) 202
In the possession of Joseph Pennell
xiii
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
To face
page
LILLIE IN OUR ALLEY (Brown and Gold) 204
Now in the possession of J. J. Cowan, Esq.
A CUP OF TEA (Pastel) 206
THE LITTLE LADY SOPHIE OF SOHO (Rose and Gold) 208
Now in the possession of C. L. Freer, Esq.
THE VIOLINIST 210
THE SEA, POURVILLE 214
Now in the possession of A. Arnold Hannay, Esq.
ROBIN HOOD BAY 214
THE WIDOW 218
Formerly in the possession of J. Staats Forbes, Esq,
THE LITTLE BLUE BONNET (Blue and Coral) 220
Formerly in the possession of William Heinemann, Esq.
LA PRINCESSE DU PAYS DE LA PORCELAINE 224
Now in the possession of C. L. Freer, Esq.
Miss AGNES MARY ALEXANDER 236
In the possession of W. C. Alexander, Esq
NELLY (Pencil Drawing) 242
In the possession of Laurence W. Hodson
THE LITTLE WHITE GIRL (Symphony in White, No II.) 252
Now in the possession of Arthur Studd, Esq.
SEA (Water-Colour) 256
In the possession of Mrs. A. M. Jarvis
FIOURE WITH FAN (Chalk Drawing) 260
Formerly in the possession of J. Staats Forbes, Esq.
GLIMPSES OF WHISTLER 266
THE GIRL IN BLACK 292
WHISTLER'S PALETTE 302
In the possession of Mrs. John Newinarch
WHISTLER'S GRAVE 302
ORIGINAL SKETCH (from "Harmony in Blue and Gold'1) page 314
xiv
CHAPTER XXV. AMONG FRIENDS.
THE YEARS EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-
ONE TO EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-SEVEN
IT was in the summer of 1884 that J. met Whistler. Up
to this time we have had to rely upon what Whistler
and those who knew him have told us. Henceforward we
write from our own knowledge.
This is J.'s story of the meeting :
J
" I first saw Whistler on one of those brilliant days (July 13,
1884) which come sometimes in summer in London, though
we have a way of thinking they do not exist out of Italy.
I had just been married, had just started on a journey of
work that is not yet at an end, and the wonder, the mystery,
the very smell of London had taken hold of me with a power
they have not yet lost. Among the many things I had been
asked to do in this marvellous place, by Mr. Gilder, editor
of the Century Magazine, was the illustration of a series of
articles on Old Chelsea by Dr. B. E. Martin. Mr. Gilder
suggested — or was it Mr. Drake, the art editor ? — that if I
could get Whistler to etch, draw or paint something in Chelsea
for the Century, naturally the Century would be very glad
to have it. And this is the beginning of the whole story.
" It so happened that some of his water-colours and pastels,
mostly of Chelsea, were on view in a Bond Street gallery —
a gallery I remember vaguely as all colour, with the little
pictures telling on the walls. It was his first show at
DowdeswelPs — Notes, Harmonies, Nocturnes — opened in May
1881-87] H:A 1
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
1884. There his address was given me : No. 13 Tite Street.
I remember more vividly the feelings with which I started
for Chelsea. I was going to meet a man whose work I had
reverenced from the first moment of seeing it in the Claghorn
Collection two or three years before, and I was going to him,
not out of curiosity, but sent by a great magazine to ask a
great master to work for it.
" I remember that the house did not strike me. I do not
remember at all how I got to it. All I remember is the man
and his work.
" I knocked, the door was partly opened by some one,
and I handed in my letter from Mr. Gilder. I was left in
the street for some minutes. Then the door was opened
wide, and Whistler met me in the hallway. Save for his
little black ribbon tie, he was all in white — his waistcoat
had long sleeves — and every minute it seemed as if he muts
begin to juggle with glasses. For, to be honest, my first
thought when I saw him was that a bar-keeper had strayed
from a Philadelphia saloon into a Chelsea studio. Never
had I seen that thick mass of black curling hair before except
on the head of the man at Finelli's in Chestnut Street, or of
a gondolier at Venice ; but there, in the midst, was the white
lock, and never anywhere had I seen such keen, brilliant
eyes as those that flashed at me from under their thick,
bushy eyebrows. Then I found that Whistler was all
nerves, all life, all action, and, frankly, at first I did not
like him.
" At the end of the hall into which he took me was a
shadowy passage to the right, some steps, a light room beyond,
and there, on an easel, the portrait of a little man with a
violin — the Sarasate that had, I believe, never been seen
outside the studio. Whistler stopped me in the passage, and
asked me what I thought of the picture framed in by the dark-
ness. I cannot recall his words I wish I could. But I was
2 [1881-87
AMONG FRIENDS
too overwhelmed by the dignity of the picture to remember
what he may, or may not, have said. I have had my doubts
since. I had long talks with other artists when the portrait
hung near The Mother and the Carlyle in the London
Memorial Exhibition, where, in a way, it seemed small and
not in the least overwhelming. But I have been convinced
of my mistake. By itself, as I saw it in the studio, or as
one sees it in a print, it is most dignified. But to give its
proper effect, it should be placed by itself as Las Meninas is
in Madrid. Hanging with The Mother and the Carlyle,
both painted in the full light of his studio, it necessarily
loses something. What Whistler was trying to do, and
what he succeeded in doing, was to paint the man on the
shadowy concert platform as the audience saw him. Sara-
sate, while posing, often played to Whistler, and so, no doubt,
strengthened and emphasised the impression. It should
also be remembered that the Carlyle and The Mother are not
life-size. They look life-size because Whistler meant that
they should. The Sarasate, on the other hand, is intended
to look small, less than life-size, as he would appear when
seen away up on the concert stage. It is painted on the
coarse canvas he usually preferred at this period. M. Duret
has since told us that Sarasate cared neither for painting nor
for his portrait, though Whistler also decorated a room for
him in Paris. It was Goldschmidt, his manager, the
owner of a Nocturne, who cared. Mr. Sidney Starr says :
' In the Tite Street studio Whistler closed the large door and
used a narrow one, three steps leading up to it. Leaving this
door open, he would go down the steps and stand in the passage
to look at his work. Through the door, the light coming from
the large window on the left, one saw the tall canvas. The
portrait finished, one forgot the canvas and became conscious
only of M. Duret, Sarasate, or of Rosa Corder in the late afternoon
light. I remember one afternoon he met me at the front door
and led me by the arm to the foot of the steps, saying, " There
1881-87 3
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
he is, eh ? Isn't that it, eh ? All balanced by the bow, you
know. See how he stands ! " It was Sarasate, and when the
picture was exhibited, Whistler said, " They talk about my
painting Sarasate standing in a coal-cellar, and stupidities like
that. I only know that he looked just as he does in my picture
when I saw him play in St. James's Hall." '
" Later on, Whistler brought out The Falling Rocket.
' Well now, what do you think of that ? What is it ? '
" I said fireworks, and I supposed one of the Cremorne
pictures.
" * Oh, you know, do you ? It's the finest thing that ever
was done. Critics pitch into it. But bring tots, idiots,
imbeciles, blind men, children, anything but Englishmen
or Ruskin, here, and of course they know — even you, who
stole the name — oh, shocking! — of my Little Venice.'
" This remark referred to an etching of mine which had
been published under the title of Little Venice. Why
Whistler did not resent this for long, nor let it interfere
with our friendship later, I do not know, for Mr. Frederick
Keppel has told me he felt bitterly about it at the time :
* I remember every word of my colloquy with Whistler about
yourself. It took place at his apartments, Tite Street, Chelsea.
I had casually mentioned your name, when Whistler said in a dry
and careless way, " I don't know him." — " Joseph Pennell," I
answered. — " Never heard of him ! " said Whistler. — " Why, hang
it," said I, " you know him perfectly well, — Joseph Pennell, the
artist ! " — " Oh ! " said Whistler, " that man. I once knew him but
I don't know him now. He had the audacity to appropriate the
title of Little Venice to one of his etchings ; now that title belongs
to me. No, I don't know him at all." *
" Whistler also brought out some of the pastels, little
figures, one of which he said was a classic.
" And he talked, and again I forget completely what he
said until, finally, I suggested, as quietly as I could, what
I had come for, and there was no reason to beat about the
4 [1881-87
PORTRAIT OF PABLO SARASATE
Arrangement in Black
STUDY FOR THE "SARASATE
AMONG FRIENDS
bush, for I did not think there was any greater honour than
to see one's work in the pages of the Century.
44 1 do not recollect exactly how he refused. There was
some excuse delightfully made. Then, suddenly, he called
for some one who appeared from a corner. And Whistler
said to him, * Here's a chance for you. I have no time.
But you will do these things.'
44 This was not at all what I had bargained for, and I said
so promptly. 4 No, Mr. Whistler, I was asked to come here
and ask you to let us have some drawings of Chelsea. If
you cannot, why then, I'll make them myself.'
44 4 Stay and lunch,' Whistler said, and there was lunch,
a wonderful curry, in a bright dining-room — the yellow and
blue room. Later on, he took me down to the Embankment,
and, though it seems so little like him, showed me the Carlyle
statue and Turner's little old house. He pointed out his
own houses in Lindsey Row, and told me of an old photo-
grapher, who had reproduced all his pictures and who had
photographed all the bits of old Chelsea, pulled down of recent
years. I remember, too, asking Whistler about the Thames
plates, and his telling me they were all done on the spot.
And then he drove down in a cab with me to Piccadilly, and
asked me to come and see him again.
44 The next Sunday I went with Mr. Stephen Parrish to
see Haden at his house in Harley Street. We were taken
to the top of the house where Haden was working on the
mezzotint of the Breaking up of the Agamemnon. I asked
him — I must have almost paralysed him by doing so — what
he thought of Whistler, and he told me that if ever he had
to sell either his collection of Whistlers or of Rembrandts,
the Rembrandts should go first. Downstairs, in a sort of
conservatory at the back of the dining-room, was the printing
press. Lady Haden was very charming and joined us at
lunch. So also did Mr. Hopkinson Smith, resurrecting vast
1881-87] 5
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
numbers of American ' chestnuts.* I can recall that both
Parrish and I found him very much in the way, and I can
also recall his getting us into such a state that, as we came
down one of the streets leading into Piccadilly, Parrish
vented his irritation on one of the public goats which, in
those days, acted both as scavengers and police for
London. As the goat put down his head to defend|him-
self, Parrish put up his umbrella, and the goat fled into
the open door of a club. What happened after that we did
not wait to discover.
" I saw Whistler only once more that summer. He was in
Charing Cross station, standing in front of the bookstall.
He wore a black frock coat, white trousers, patent leather
shoes, top hat, and he was carrying, the only time I ever
saw it, the long cane. I did not speak to him, and I liked
his looks still less than when I first met him. Because people,
ignorantly, called this costume Bohemian and eccentric,
the idea got about that he was slovenly and careless. As a
matter of fact, there was no more carefully dressed man in
London.
" Early in the autumn of 1884 we went to Italy, and it
was several years before I began to meet Whistler often, and
really got to know him, and understand that his appearance
was to him merely a part of the ' joke of life.' "
Mr. Keppel, who, with Mr. Avery, was one of the first to
make Whistler's etchings known in America, saw him at this
same period and his record of his first visit to Tite Street
will be read with interest as a parallel to J.'s. It has always
been a matter of regret to us that Whistler soon took offence
at something he attributed to Mr. Keppel. We often tried
to bring about a meeting between them, for we knew it
would smooth out the difference, but, unhappily, we never
succeeded. Mr. Keppel writes in his story of A Day with
Whistler :
6 [1881-87
AMONG FRIENDS
" Our first meeting, long years ago, took place at his rooms
in Tite Street, Chelsea. My errand did not concern myself at allj:
I simply undertook to deliver to him a picture entrusted to me at
Whistler's request by an absent friend of his, who told me in
French parlance the master would be visible from nine to ten
o'clock every morning. I reached his house about half-past nine,
and was admitted by a servant, who showed me into a reception
room in which the prevailing colour scheme was a pale and delicate
yellow. The room at first looked bare and empty, yet its general
effect was both novel and pleasing. Having sent up my card,
upon which I had written a memorandum stating the cause of
my visit, I soon heard a light step, and a moment later I set eyes on
Whistler for the first time. It was his humour not to enter his
own reception room, but to remain at the threshold glaring at me
through his monocle and holding his watch open in his hand.
There he was — the Whistler of so many portraits and so many
caricatures — a slender, alert little man, but so gracefully propor-
tioned, that, as he stood framed in his own doorway, it was not
easy to determine whether he was big, middle-sized or small. . . .
He said : ' Now, I have just four minutes to spare ; what is it that
you want ? ' Let me here confess that I felt somewhat nettled at
this unexpected reception — seeing that I had come long miles out
of my way solely to oblige an absent friend of his and, incidentally,
to oblige Whistler himself — and so I set myself to break down the
repellent pose which he saw fit to assume. Having delivered to him
the little picture which I had brought, I gave him no immediate
opening to snub me further. With this intent I talked about the
friend who had sent me to him ; I described to him the fine
position in which his own contribution to the Paris Salon had been
hung ; I told him some flattering things which had been said by
the right sort of people about it ; I gave him news, which I knew
would interest him, of other friends of his, and, like Browning's
hero, I kept up ' any noise bad or good,' until he so far unbent as to
enter the room where I was. Abruptly he then put the question to
me : ' Are you fond of pictures ? ' To this I made answer : ' Such
pictures as may be seen here, yes.' ' Come to the studio,' said he ;
and thus began a memorable day which only ended when he had to
go out to dine at eight in the evening, and even then he delayed —
calmly remarking that people always waited dinner for him no
matter how late he came. This long day was passed in the
studio, except when we adjourned to the dining-room for lunch,
1881-87] 7
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
where I remember that the table was decorated with yellow
flowers and that the dishes were hollow, the hollow space being
filled with boiling water for the purpose of keeping the eatables hot.
" But it was in his studio that Whistler was at his brightest
and best. Surely never was a man so far removed from being com-
monplace. His alert wit kept flashing like summer lightning. . . .
Much of his talk that day was of a denunciatory character. Some
eminent persons were severely castigated, but the vials of his
bitterest wrath were poured on the devoted heads of certain
prominent artists, and more especially on those who painted por-
traits. While speaking on this subject, he gave expression to one
opinion which seems to be so sound and right, that it should be
recorded here : ' To paint what is called a great portrait in
England,' said he, ' the artist must overload everything with
strong contrasts of violent colours. His success with the rich,
ignorant public is assured if only he succeeds in setting his colours
shouting against each other. Go to the exhibition at the Royal
Academy and see what is called the picture of the year — Mr. A.'s
portrait of Mr. B. You can easily find it by seeing the crowd that
stands staring at it all day long. Mix with this crowd and get near
to the picture ; fill your eye with it ; then turn round and look at
the faces of the living spectators — how quiet in tone they are ! If
A.'s portrait is right, surely every living man and woman you see
in the crowd must be wrong ! '
" From all this depressing pessimism, he rapidly turned to
another subject, which he proceeded to treat with enthusiastic
optimism ; for he began to talk of his own works.
" There was standing on a perpendicular easel in the studio
his superb portrait of the violinist, Sarasate — the same picture
which afterwards created such a sensation at the Paris Salon.
The delighted artist conducted me through a doorway which faced
the picture, and, further on, to the end of a long corridor. There
turning round, we gazed on the picture framed in a vista of corridor
and doorway. Laying his hand on my shoulder he said to me :
' Now, isn't it beautiful ? ' 'It certainly is,' I answered. ' No,'
said he, ' but isn't it beautiful ? ' ' It is indeed,' I replied. Then,
raising his voice to a scream, with a not too wicked blasphemy,
and bringing his hand down upon his knee with a bang, so as to
give superlative emphasis to the last word of his sentence, he cried,
* it ! Isn't it beautiful ? ' If I could do no other
thing as well as Whistler, I could at least shout as loud as he could
8 [1881-87
AMONG FRIENDS
scream, so turning to him, and adopting his little ' swear word '
(as a quotation, of course) I shouted into his face * it,
it is ! * This third declaration seemed to satisfy him, and so we
returned to the studio.
" More manifestations of his delight in his own work were to
follow : He had just received the proof sheets of his now famous
book, The Gentle Art of Making Enemies,* and he asked me to read
some of it aloud, so that he could * hear how it sounded.' Now I
believe it is not possible for any one to read a piece of fine litera-
ture aloud, and to do it well, unless he has read it before and
knows what is coming in the text ; and so I was not at all sur-
prised when, after I had read a few pages to him, he called out
' Stop ! You are murdering it ! Let me read it to you.' He was
quite right ; I was murdering it ! So we changed places. He
read his own book admirably, and kept at it for about two hours."
* In one particular Mr. Keppcl ia wrong, What Whistler read to him must have
been the notes for the Ten o'clock — The Gentle Art was not published until 1890.
1881-87J
CHAPTER XXVI. AMONG FRIENDS.
THE YEARS EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-
ONE TO EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-SEVEN
CONTINUED
WHISTLER said he could not afford to keep a friend,
but he was never without one, never without
many. A photograph, taken in his studio in 1881,
shows who a few of these friends now were. In it he is
the centre of a group of five ; the four others are Julian
and Waldo Story, the artists, sons of W. W. Story ; Frank
Miles, a painter from whom great things were expected, but
who died before they were realised ; and the Hon. Frederick
Lawless, a sculptor. In the background of the photograph
is the little statuette everybody wanted to know the merit
of, which was explained one day by Whistler, " Well, you
know — why — you can take it up and — you can set it down ! "
Mr. Lawless writes us that Whistler modelled the little
figure, though we never heard from Whistler that he modelled
anything, and though Professor Lanteri, among others who
frequently visited him at this time, assures us that he never
knew Whistler as sculptor. Mr. Lawless says :
" When Whistler lived in his London studio, he often modelled
graceful statuettes, and one day he put up one on a vase, asking me
to photograph it. I said he must stand beside it. He said, ' But
we must make a group and all be photographed, and that I was
to call out to his servant when to take the lid off the camera, and
when to put it back.' I then developed the negative in his studio."
Mr. Francis James was another friend as often at 13 Tite
10 [1881-87
AMONG FRIENDS
Street as he had been at 21 Cheyne Walk, with many
memories of days and evenings there, especially of one
summer evening when M. Coquelin, Aint, and a large
party came to supper, and Whistler kept them until dawn
and then took them to see the sun rise over the Thames, a
spectacle few of them had ever before witnessed.
For two or three years nobody was more intimately and
sympathetically associated with Whistler than Sir Rennell
Rodd, the present Minister for Great Britain at Stockholm.
Of their friendship, in which the only break was caused by
the absence of one or the other from London, Sir Rennell
Rodd writes us :
" It was in '82, '83 that I saw most of him — in Tite Street, not
the White House. That had already passed into the hands of
Quilter. But there was another house nearly next door where he
had a studio. Frank Miles, Waldo and Julian Story, Walter
Sickert, Harper Pennington, and, at one time, Oscar Wilde, were
constantly there. Jimmy, unlike many artists, liked a camarade
about the place while he was working, and talked and laughed and
raced about all the time, putting in the touches delicately, after
matured thought, ten yards away, with preternaturally long
brushes. There was a poor fellow who had been a designer for
Minton — but his head had given way, and he was already quite
mad — used to be there day after day for months, and draw in-
numerable sketches on scraps of brown paper, cartridge boards,
anything — often full of talent but always mad. Well, Jimmy
humoured him and made his last weeks of liberty happy in
their way. Eventually he had to be removed to an asylum, and
died raving mad. I used to help Whistler often with printing
his etchings. It was very laborious work. He would manipu-
late a plate for hours with the ball of the thumb and the flat of
the palm to get just the right superficial ink left on the plate,
while I damped and roughed the paper, which came out of old
folio volumes, the first and last sheets, with a fairly stiff brush.
And often for a whole morning's work, only one or two prints
were achieved which satisfied his critical eye, and the rest
would be destroyed. There was a Venetian one which gave
him infinite trouble in the printing.
1881-87] II
JAMES McNElLL WHISTLER
" He was the kindest of men to his old friends, though he was
indeed too handy with his wand-like cane. In any financial trans-
action he was scrupulously honourable, though, of course, he
never had much money at his disposal.
" We had great fun over the many correspondences and the
catalogues elaborated in those days in Tite Street. . . . He was
demoniacal in controversy and the spirit of elfin mischief was
developed in him to the point of genius. . . . Pellegrini * was
much at Whistler's in those days also, and in a way the influence
of Whistler was fatal to him. His admiration for him was
unbounded, and he abandoned his own legitimate art, in which,
as Jimmy used to say, ' he had taught all the others what none
of them had been able to learn,' and took to trying to paint por-
traits in Whistler's manner without any success.
" One of the few modern painters I have ever heard him praise
was Albert Moore, and I am not sure that was not to some extent
due to a personal liking for the man. It always struck me his
literary judgments, if he ever happened to express any, were
extraordinarily sound and often very brilliant in summing up
the merits or demerits of a writer.
" He had also an extraordinary power of putting a man in his
place, if the occasion warranted. I remember a breakfast which
Waldo Story gave at Dieudonne's. Every one there was by way
of having painted a picture, or written a book, or in some way or
another having outraged the Philistine, with the exception of one
young gentleman, whose raison d'etre there was not so apparent
(• as was the height of his collars and the glory of his attire. He
nevertheless ventured to lay down the law on certain matters which
seemed beyond his province, and even went so far as to combat
some dictum of the master's, who, readjusting his eye-glass,
* Carlo Pellegrini was an Italian artist who came to England and drew caricatures,
under the names of Singe and Ape, for Vanity Fair. These caricatures, unlike the
characterless, artless work of his vastly more popular successors to-day, were works
of art, and not the mere scrawls of unteachable amateurs. Whistler always appre-
elated his work, and others always considered that the caricature of Whistler in
the overcoat with the three capes was more of a portrait. There was a large painting
too, a full-length, Whistler in evening-dress, introduced, for some reason no one can
now explain to us, in one of the Gaiety burlesques. "And here is the inventor of
black-and-white " was announced, and Pellegrini, we have been told, wheeled the
portrait, on an easel, on to the stage. It fell flat, it seems, and it is hard to-day to
see where the point could have been supposed to lie. The picture now belongs to
a collector in New York.
12 [1881-87
AMONG FRIENDS
looked pleasantly at him, and gaid : ' And whose son are
you I'
" I shall be glad to see justice done to my dear old friend, with
whom I spent some of the best moments of my life, and who
greatly flattered me, believing him one of the very few geniuses I
have known, by caring for my sympathy and appreciation."
For two or three years, Oscar Wilde was so much with
Whistler that everybody who went to the studio found him
there, just as everybody who went much into society saw
the two men together. Wilde had come up from Oxford
not long before the Ruskin trial, bringing with him a repu-
tation |as the most brilliant undergraduate who had ever
flashed upon the University, as the winner of the Newdigate
prize, and as the apostle of " beauty." Many a reputation
is lost on the way between Oxford and London, but his was
only strengthened. He was brilliant among men of the
world, witty sayings of his were repeated eagerly and his
youth seemed to excuse the affectation of his pose as reformer.
He was at once sought after, and had the world of London
at his feet. It was natural that, of all the men he met,
none should appeal to him more powerfully than Whistler.
At Oxford, Wilde had been a follower of Ruskin, had even
broken stones for that famous road which was to lead
Ruskin's young enthusiasts to art and their own salvation ;
he had studied under Pater ; he had accepted the aesthetic
principles of those other brilliant young men who were at
Oxford before him, William Morris and Burne-Jones and
therefore, also, of their master, Rossetti. But Ruskin's
waywardness already made it impossible for the most ardent
to follow him far, Pater was a recluse, Rossetti's health was
broken, while Morris and Burne-Jones were the centres of a
little esoteric group of their own. When Wilde came to
London, Whistler was in his prime as man and artist ; he
was prominent in the greater world that received Wilde
1881-87] 13
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
with open arms ; he was equally sought after, and he, too, took
pleasure in the fact. His daily life was filled, as a matter of
course, with the elements of beauty which Wilde, at Oxford,
had cultivated as something almost sacred and sacramental.
In Tite Street rare blue and white was set out, not as symbols
of the true faith, but for everyday use ; flowers bloomed,
not as pledges of " culture," but simply for their colour
and grace of form ; beauty was accepted as no new dis-
covery, but as the one and only end of art since the first
artist drew a line and knew it to be beautiful. Whistler in
himself and in his work, quite simply and with no parade,
realised all that to the undergraduate had been theory in
need of a prophet.
It was as natural that Whistler, on his side, should be
flattered by the homage Wilde paid him. He was looked
upon as the world's jester after his return from Venice when
Wilde's devotion drew them into closer intimacy. The
younger men who were now gathering about Whistler, had
still to make their name and reputation. Wilde's name was
in every man's mouth, he had not outworn the reputation
brought from Oxford, he shone with the splendour of the
great work he was expected to produce. He was the most
promising poet and man of letters of his generation. To
be singled out for his allegiance was flattering. More than
this, to have his companionship was amusing. There is no
question of the charm of his personality. We remember
our delight when we met him on his famous lecture tour in
America, and hardly knew whether to wonder more at his
magnificence on the platform, where he faced with calmness
rows of college boys each bearing a lily and stood with
composure their collective emotion as he sipped a glass of
water, or his gaiety and exuberance and wit when we talked
with him afterwards. It has been said that he gave the
best of himself in his talk. If Whistler liked always to
14 [1881-87
AMONG FRIENDS
have some one with him in the studio, his pleasure was
increased a hundredfold when this some one was so brilliant
and witty as Wilde undoubtedly was.
For a while, they were constant companions. Wilde
spent hours in the studio, he came repeatedly to
Whistler's Sunday breakfasts, he presided at Whistler's
.private views. Whistler went out and about with him
everywhere. There were few social functions at which they
were not both conspicuous. At parties and receptions, you
could count upon finding the company divided into two
groups, one gathered round Whistler, the other round Wilde.
It was the fashion to compare them. To the world that ran
after them, that thought itself honoured, or notorious, by
their presence, they seemed inseparable in these days —
though they were fundamentally quite unlike one another.
It was inevitable that this intimate friendship should
prove of short duration. M. Duret thinks the trouble
began when Whistler discovered how shallow was Wilde's
knowledge of art, for he could never endure anybody in
the studio who did not understand his work with sympathy
and intelligence. Certainly, Whistler, on one occasion,
wrote of Wilde as of a man " with no more sense of a picture
than of the fit of a coat." The Gentle Art shows that Whistler
was also irritated with Wilde for borrowing from him, as
he thought, too freely. That Oscar Wilde took his good
where he found it, as his critics said of him, is neither more
nor less than what genius has always done — what Whistler
did himself. But the genius, from the good thus taken,
evolves something of his own. Wilde, at the high tide of
his social triumph, which he was enjoying with all the zest
of youth, was content to shine personally and to let the great
things expected of him wait. The drain upon his intelligence
and his wit was exhausting, and, probably unconsciously,
he appropriated and reproduced the good he borrowed from
1881-87] 15
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
others exactly as he found it. When it was question of wit,
there was no one to whom Wilde could go, as his equal or
rather as his superior, except Whistler. A characteristic story
of their relations in this respect has been often told.
After one of Whistler's brilliant sallies, Wilde said, " I wish
I had said that, Whistler." " You will, Oscar, you will,"
was Whistler's answer. In matters of art, Wilde had every-
thing to learn from Whistler, who, though ever generous
to his friends, resented Wilde's preaching as his original
doctrines the truths which Whistler had taught for years.
This can be seen very plainly in The Gentle Art. " Oscar "
had " the courage of the opinions ... of others ! " and
again : " Oscar "
" went forth, on that occasion, as my St. John — but, for-
getting that humility should be his chief characteristic, and
unable to withstand the unaccustomed respect with which
his utterances were received, he not only trifled with my shoe,
but bolted with the latchet ! "
Mr. Alan S. Cole, in 1884, noted in his diary that Whistler
" was strong on Oscar Wilde's notions of art which he derived
from him (Jimmy)." Mr. Herbert Vivian tells the story of
a dinner given by Whistler after Wilde had been lecturing :
" ' Now, Oscar, tell us what you said to them,' Whistler kept
insisting, and Wilde had to repeat all the phrases, while Whistler
rose and made solemn bows, with his hand across his breast, in
mock acceptance of his guests' applause. . . . The cruel part of
the plagiarism lay in the fact that, when Mr. Whistler published
his Ten o'Clock, many people thought it had all been taken from
Wilde's lecture."
It was doubly provoking because it seemed as if by his
indiscriminate lecturing, Wilde's endeavour was to force
art upon the middle classes, to whom Whistler believed it
could only be disastrous in its influence. Altogether,
Whistler grew more and more exasperated by the use he
16 [1881-87
AMONG FRIENDS
thought Wilde was making of him until the merest trifle
irritated him. Their friendship was closest in the early
'eighties when Whistler was bewildering the world by
deliberate eccentricities of dress, eccentricities which Wilde
copied rather clumsily. The world, that did not know
them personally, soon mistook one for the other and
actually supposed Whistler to be as much the founder
of the so-called " ^Esthetic " fad of the day as Wilde.
When Gilbert and Sullivan's opera Patience was produced,
Bunthorne, who was obviously intended for Wilde, appeared
with Whistler's black curls and white lock, moustache,
" tuft," and single eye-glass and laughed with Whistler's
familiar " ha ! ha ! " When Whistler saw Wilde in a
Polish cap and " green overcoat befrogged, and wonder-
fully befurred," he desired him to " restore those things
to Nathan's, and never again let me find you masquerading
the streets of my Chelsea in the combined costumes of
Kossuth and Mr. Mantalini ! " To be in danger of losing,
in the eyes of the world, his own marked individuality was
bad enough, but to have his own studied eccentricities
handed over to another man who rendered them ridiculous
was worse. No one probably summed up the position
better than the Times reviewer noticing Wilde's recently
published Collected Works.
" With a mind not a jot less keen than Whistler's, he had
none of the conviction, the high faith, for which Whistler found
it worth while to defy the crowd. Wilde had poses to attract the
crowd. And the difference was this, that while Whistler was a
prophet who liked to play Pierrot, Wilde grew into a Pierrot who
liked to play the prophet."
It would have been more exact to say that if Whistler
ever played Pierrot, it was with a purpose. Where art
was concerned, he was serious, and could endure no trifling,
could countenance no shams. At this period, Wilde was
1881-87] H :B 17
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
serious about nothing. Like Mr. Rose in the New Republic,
his two topics were " self-indulgence and art," and his
interest in both was but part of his youthful pose and bid
for notoriety. He might jest about himself but his flippancy,
if art was his subject, became to Whistler a crime. The
only way he showed his resentment was by refusing to
take Wilde seriously about anything. Even when Wilde was
married, he was not allowed to forget this, for Whistler
telegraphed to the church, " Fear I may not be able to
reach you in time for the ceremony. Don't wait." Later,
in Paris, he called Wilde " Oscar, bourgeois malgr& lui," a
witticism none could appreciate better than the Parisians.
As soon as he began to make a jest of Wilde, he ended, once
and for all, that friendship to which, while it lasted, London
society owed so much gaiety and brilliancy.
The relation between Whistler and many of the artists now
often in the studio was less that of friends than of Master
and Followers, as they called themselves. He was forty-
six when he returned from Venice, and there were men of
the new generation who shared none of the doubt of his
contemporaries, but who believed in his art and looked up
to him as artist. Whistler always had the power of attracting
people to him, and the devotion of one special group became
almost infatuation. They were ready to do anything for him.
We have heard of families estranged and of engagements of
marriage broken because of him. They fought his battles ;
ran his errands ; spied out the land for him ; read his letters,
when he wished it, to everybody they met. They formed
a genuine little court about him. They exaggerated every-
thing, even their devotion, and became, virtually, cari-
catures of Whistler, as excessive in their imitation as in
their devotion. He denied the right of any, save the artist,
to speak authoritatively of art ; they started a club to
train the Classes — Princes, Prime Ministers, Patrons, Am-
18 [1881-87
AMONG FRIENDS
bassadors, Members of Parliament — to blind faith in Master
and Followers. Whistler mixed his colours before putting
them on the palette, filling little tubes with them ; the
Followers mixed theirs in vegetable dishes and kept them in
milk cans, labelled Floor, Face, Hair, Lips. He had a
table palette ; they adopted it, but added hooks to hang
their cans of paint on. He used his paint very liquid — the
" sauce " of the Nocturnes ; they used such quantities of
medium that as much went on the floor as on the canvas, and,
before a picture was blocked in, they were wading in liquid
masterpieces. Many of his brushes were very large ; they
worked with whitewash brushes. They copied his personal
peculiarities as assiduously. As an example of the absurd
lengths to which they would go, it is said that one evening
at a dinner when he wore a white waistcoat and all the
buttons fell out owing to the carelessness of the laundress,
a young painter, seeing it buttonless, hurried from the room
and returned with his in the same condition, under the
impression that Whistler had set a new fashion.
Whistler accepted their devotion, and, finding them
willing to squander their time upon him, monopolised it as
willingly. There was always plenty for everybody to do
for him in the studio. If they afterwards complained that
he took advantage of them, he proved to them that the
fault was theirs. Mr. Menpes writes :
" We seldom asked Whistler questions about his work. . . .
If we had, he Would have been sure to say, ' Pshaw ! you must
be occupied with the Master, not with yourselves. There is
plenty to be done.' If there was not, Whistler would always
make a task for you — a picture to be taken in to the Dowdeswells',
or a copper-plate to have a ground put on it."
No one respected the work of others more than Whistler.
But if others did not respect it themselves and made him a
present of their time, he did not refuse. . If he allowed them
1881-87] 19
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
to accompany him in his little journeys, it was because they
were so eager to be useful. When he went with two of the
Followers to St. Ives, in the winter of 1883-84, they were up
at six o'clock because it pleased him, and they scarcely
dared eat unless he rang the bell. One prepared his panels,
mixed his colours, and cleaned his brushes, taking a day
off for fishing if Whistler chose, dutifully abjuring the
right to sentiment if he objected. The chances are that
Whistler saw the humour in this attitude towards him
more clearly than anybody, and was, on that account, the
more exacting. It was said that the Followers were not
allowed by him even to rely upon their own opinions. Mr.
Sidney Starr writes that once, when Mr. Walter Sickert
ventured to praise Leighton's Harvest Moon, at the Man-
chester Art Treasures Exhibition, Whistler, hearing of it,
telegraphed : " The Harvest Moon rises over Hampstead
[where Mr. Sickert lived] and the cocks of Chelsea crow.'*
The Followers, however, knew that if they were of use to
Whistler, he was infinitely of more use to them, and that
submission to his rule and exposure to his wit were a small
price to pay for all he helped them to learn.
Even Mr. Menpes, who, in Whistler as I Knew Him, makes
more of the follies than the advantages of the Followers,
cannot entirely ignore their debt to Whistler. It was their
privilege to work with him not only in the studio, but in
the street, hunting with him for his little shops, corners
and models, and painting at his side ; often walking home
with him, after a dinner-party or supper at the club, and
being trained by him to observe and memorise, as he did,
the night and its effects. It was their privilege to know
him as the artist absorbed in his work and full of kindliness
to the student, when to the world he often seemed both
insolent and audacious.
American artists, in London or passing through, began
20 [1881-87
PORTRAIT OF MONSIEUR THEODORE DURET
Arrangement in Flesh Colon rand Black
AMONG FRIENDS
to make their way to his studio. Mr. Otto Bacher has
published in the Century recollections of his stay in London
in 1883, of Whistler's friendliness, of the pictures he saw in
the studio, of their dining together nightly. In 1885, Mr.
John W. Alexander came commissioned by the Century to
make a'drawing of him for a series of portraits of distinguished
men it proposed to publish. Mr. Alexander tells us that
Whistler posed for a little while very unwillingly, and criticised
the drawing so long and so severely that Mr. Alexander finally
tore it up. After that, he says, Whistler posed like a lamb.
Mr. Harper Pennington has written for us his reminiscences
of those years :
"... Whistler was more than kind to me. Through him
came everything. He introduced me right and left, and called
me ' pupil ' in so doing : took me about to picture shows and
pointed out the good and bad. I remember my astonishment the
first occasion of his giving quite unstinted praise to modern work,
on which he seldom lavished even positives. It was at the Royal
Academy before one of those modern interiors of Orchardson's
(for whom Whistler had expressed the most sincere appreciation).
Well ! he stood, delighted in front of the canvas, his hat almost
on his nose, his ' tuft ' sticking straight out as it did when he would
catch his nether lip between his teeth — and, presently, a long
forefinger went out and circled round a specially well-painted bit
of yellow drapery — ' It would have been nice to have painted
that,' he said — almost as if he thought aloud.
" Another day we rushed to the National Gallery — ' just to
get the taste out of our mouths,' he said — after a couple of hours
wandering in the Royal Academy wilderness of Hardy Annual
Horrors. Whistler went at once to almost smell the Canalettos,
while I went across the Gallery, attracted by the Marriage a la
Mode series — and no wonder ! It was my first sight of them.
Up to that day I had supposed that what I was told, and had read,
of Hogarth was the truth — the silly rubbish about his being
only a caricaturist and so forth and so on ; so that when confronted
with those marvels of technical quality, I fairly gasped for
breath, and — long before I had more than skimmed along the
line of pictures — hurried over to where Whistler had his nose
1881-87] 21
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
against the largest Canaletto, seized his arm, and said hurriedly,
' Come over here quickly ! ' ' What's the matter ? ' said he,
turning round. ' Why ! — Hogarth ! — He was a great Painter ! '
' Sh — sh ! ' said he (pretending he was afraid that some one would
overhear us). ' Sh — sh — yes ! — I know it ! ... But don't
you tell 'em ! ' Later, Hogarth was thoroughly discussed and
his qualities pointed out with that incisive manner which one had
to be familiar with to fully understand.
" Whistler was reasonable enough, not implacable, and preferred
a joke to a serious battle any day. Often he came to me in
the King's Road, breathing vengeance against this or that offensive
person, but when he went away it was invariably with a fin sourire
and one of his delicious little over-alliterated notes. His amazing
clairvoyance in the matter of two notes to Leighton was made
manifest at my writing-table. The P.R.A. wrote a very lame
; explanation to Whistler's first query as to why he had not been
invited to the Academy soiree — as President of the R.S.B.A.,
' ex-officio,' or * as Whistler.' He came into my room, one morning
early — before I, sluggard ! was awake — and read to me an outline
of a note he meant to write — the merest sketch of it, and then set
down to make it, with all the grace of diction, dainty composition
and the pretty balanced Butterfly for signature. When that was
done, he turned to me (I was dressing then) and said — ' Now,
Har-r-rpur-r-r ' (he liked to burr those Rs in ' down-east ' fashion).
' Now Har-r-r-pur-r-r ' I know Leighton — he will fumble this. He
will answer so and so — (describing the answer Leighton actually
sent !) — and then I've got him ! ' He chuckled, wrote another
note — the retort to Leighton's unwritten answer to Whistler's not
yet posted first note — which he read to me. That retort was sent
almost verbatim, only one slight change made necessary by a turn
of phrase in Leighton's weak apology ! That was ' Amazing ' if
you like. His anger soon burst out — the obvious jest would come
— and the whole thing boiled itself down to a quip in the World,
a line to ' Labby,' or a smart impertinence, with just sting enough
to the offender himself.
" Of course, there were many most amusing rencontres in my
little studio — where we all played together. The work went on
downstairs in the big room. Dick (Corney) Grain came there of
afternoons to try his new song ; George Macquay, too shy to sing
in company, would sit there warbling for hours, playing his
accompaniments enchantingly ! Oscar Wilde dropped in every
22 [1881-87
AMONG FRIENDS
day almost, to loll, and smoke, and talk his best, while I worked
away at my easel in the big room — all my memories are~good
ones, kindly, gracious, happy, and I grieve that all of those I
spoke of — frequenters of my studio — except Macquay, are dead.
The Beefsteak table would be peopled by the spirits of Pellegrini,
Arthur Blouet, Dick Grain — Ah ! tutti quanti I I doubt if
jesting is — or can be — half as witty nowadays. One evening
Whistler, Labouchere, and I, as listener (half the time in shouts
of laughter) had a famous set-to, as we dined on grilled things at
the Steak. Whistler began it, a propos of the Gold Girl which
Labouchere had bought. They talked American — French —
English — whatever language best set forth the spirit of their rapid
fencing. Funny! — Good Lord ! — I never yet have heard such talk as
Labouchere.
that ! And they sat up there, grave as judges, ' I H. P.
J. A. McN W.
at the top of the table, disposed as I have drawn them. The
other diners stretched their ears to find out what those men could
say to make me laugh so heartily — but, bless you ! one needed to
have heard the First word — then all the rest to follow two such
master-wits, both at their very best, both quiet — solemn — never
cracking a smile — and thrusting at every lunge ! I remember
lots of things they said, but it would be like the score of some
delicious song — a quantity of dots and lines with no sound to give
them life."
1881-87] 23
CHAPTER XXVII. THE STUDIO IN
THE FULHAM ROAD. THE YEARS
EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-FIVE TO
EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-SEVEN
IN 1885, while we were still in Italy, Whistler moved
from Tite Street and took a studio at No. 454
Fulham Road, not far from the Town Hall, on the opposite
side of the street. A shabby gate leads into a shabby
lane backed by a group of studios, of which his was one.
Here Lady Archibald Campbell, M. Duret, and other
sitters followed, and new portraits were begun. He was
living at the time with " Maud " in a little house close by
which he called the " Pink Palace," the outside of which
he painted himself. Two shops have taken its place. But
soon he moved to the Vale, Chelsea — " an amazing place,"
he said ; " you might be in the heart of the country,
and there, two steps away, is the King's Road " ; the
house is the first on the right after you go through the iron
gates.
Of none of the studios or rooms in which he had worked
up to this time do such accurate records remain. It was
part of Whistler's policy during these years to keep well
before the public, and one way of accomplishing it was by
granting interviews to enterprising young journalists, and
helping his friends in their descriptions of himself and his
Work written for publication. As he never thought any
paper too insignificant for his notice when to answer its
criticism gave him the opportunity to make the statements
24 [1885
MAUD
THE STUDIO IN THE FULHAM ROAD
he wanted to make, so he did not mind where these inter-
views appeared so long as they did appear and contained
the facts he wished known. One of the most interesting
as a contemporary record of the 'eighties came out in the
Court and Society Review (July 1, 1886). It was written
by Mr. Malcolm C. Salaman, and its interest is in the details
it gives of the studio and the work then to be <?een there, and
also in the fact that, in this article, Whistler allowed
A Further Proposition to be printed for the first time, as
far as we know, and a definition of his position as
artist to be made of which he unmistakably was the
inspiration.
" The plain white-washed walls, the unadorned wooden rafters,
which partly form a loft for the stowing away of numerous can-
vases, panels, &c., the vast space unencumbered by furniture, and
the large table-palette, all give the appearance of the working place
where serious Art alone is tolerated, and where dilettantism would
be an impertinence. Mr. Whistler is not so feeble as to aim at
theatrical effects in his costume. The velvet coat, the embroidered
smoking-cap, and other accessories of the fashionable, albeit in-
competent painter, find no favour in his eyes, but in the black
clothes of his ordinary wear, straight from the street or the garden,
he stands at work at his easel. To those accustomed to studios
the completeness of the arrangement of model, background, and
surroundings — exactly in accordance with the scheme of the
picture that is in progress — is striking, as striking indeed as the
actual personality (always remarkable) of the talented artist. For
his whole body seems instinct with energy and enthusiasm for his
work, his face lit up with flashes of quick and strong thought, as
that of a man who sees with his brains as well as with his eyes,
and his brush-hand electric in sympathy with both.
" A word, by the way, about Mr. Whistler's palette, just alluded
to. As I saw it the other day, the colours were systematically
arranged, almost with the appearance of a picture. In the centre
was white and on one side were the various reds leading up to
black, while on the other side were the yellows leading up to
blue. . . .
" And now a few words about some of the pictures which the
1886] 25
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
master has almost ready for exhibition, and which I hope the
public will have an opportunity of seeing. A full-length figure of
a girl in an out-door black dress, with a fur cape and a becoming
hat trimmed with flowers. The face is daintily pretty and piquant
and the grace and spontaneity of the attitude are charming. She
stands against a dark background, and like all the figures that Mr.
Whistler paints, she actually lives in her frame. The painting of
the head is as refined and beautiful a piece of work as I have ever
seen. 2. A full-length portrait of Mr. Walter Sickert, a favourite
pupil of Mr. Whistler's and one of his cleverest disciples. He is
in evening dress, and stands against a dark wall. The values of
the black tones in this picture are wonderfully mastered. This
is a picture that Velasquez himself would have delighted in — [it
has vanished] — and still more so is another — 3. A full-length
portrait of a man with a very characteristic, rather Spanish-
looking head, painted in a manner that is surely of the very
greatest. [This may have been the portrait of Chase or of
Eldon, also disappeared.] . . .
" A superb portrait of Mrs. Godwin, wife of the well-known
architect, will rank among Mr. Whistler's chefs-d'oeuvre. The
lady stands in an ample red cloak over a black dress, against red
draperies, and in her bonnet is a red plume. Her hands rest on
her hips, and her attitude is singularly vivacious. The colour is
simply wonderful, and is another positive proof of Mr. Whistler's
pre-eminence as a colourist. This picture has been painted in
artificial light?, as has also another one of a lady seated in a graceful
attitude, with one hand leaning over the back of a chair, while
the other holds a fan. She wears a white evening dress, and is
seen against a light background. Besides these pictures, Mr.
Whistler showed me the other day the sketches of three pictures he
is going to paint, consisting of various groups of several girls on
the sea-shore. . . . [The Projects, evidently.] In addition to
these sketches, I was also privileged to see a sketch of a Venus,
very lovely in colour and design, the nude figure standing close to
the sea with delicate gauze draperies being lightly lifted by the
breeze. The studio is full of canvases and pictures in more or less
advanced stages, and on one of the walls hang a number of pastel
studies of the nude and partially draped female figure, showing
in every touch the master hand. ... A portrait sketch in black
chalk of Mr. Whistler himself by M. Kajon, also hangs on the
wall."
26 [1886
THE STUDIO IN THE FULHAM ROAD
We do not quote A Further Proposition. It is too well
known, and, besides, it can be read to-day in The Gentle Art.
It was Whistler's explanation, in a few words, of the truth
disdained by most modern portrait -painters, that a figure
should keep well within the frame, and that flesh should be
painted according to the light in which it is seen. This
Proposition was written at first in answer to the criticism
often made of his portraits that the " flesh was low in tone " ;
it was preserved because it was an admirable statement of
an artistic truth. At the time of writing it, evidently he
was anxious that it should be seen and read widely. A year
later, in 1887, it was printed again in an article written by
Mr. Walter Dowdeswell for the Art Journal (April), the first
appreciative article on Whistler in an important English
magazine. Whistler was beginning to understand the value
of the things he had written and to provide for their survival.
He also gave to Mr. Dowdeswell for publication his reply to
Hamerton's criticism, twenty years earlier, of the Symphony
in White, No. III., a reply which was not published at the
time, probably for the good reason that the Saturday Review,
in which the criticism appeared, did not then open its columns
to correspondence.
Mr. Dowdeswell gives the same impression of the bigness
and bareness of the studio, which, he says, was
" painted white throughout, with just a soupcon of yellow in the
rugs and matting ; plain almost to bareness, the lofty room is a
veritable workshop. ... A table covered with old Nankin
china — for use as well as for sight — all the furniture. There is
a crowd of canvases at the further end, and, pinned upon the
wall on the right, a number of exquisite little notes of colour, and
drawings of semi-draped figures fromalife, in pastels, on brown
paper."
As a contrast to descriptions written with Whistler's
knowledge and, no doubt, revision, we give one by Mr. Booth
1887] 27
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Pearsall, who saw Whistler, for the only time, in the Fulham
Road studio, and who has sent us his impression :
" I applied for admission and was bluffed off by a youth who
said the Master was engaged and would not see any one. I said
to tell Mr. Whistler an impatient Irishman waited his greeting
and had a letter of introduction to present. The youth came back
after some minutes, asking me to give him the letter and my
card for Mr. Whistler. I gave them and told the boy I would
gladly wait his convenience but my stay in London was short.
The youth returned at once and said the Master would be glad to
see me. I followed and entered a large room with a high light in
the roof. A lady was sitting for her portrait, or rather standing
in a corner on a sheet. The evening had advanced to twilight.
The lady turned out to be Lady Archibald Campbell, and I was
introduced to her by Mr. Whistler in a charming way. He was as
courteous and agreeable as a man could be, made me be seated on
a huge Sheraton painted sofa, and then asked me about his Irish
friends. There was a group of men in the studio, to whom I was
also introduced — Mortimer Menpes, Theodore Roussel, Walter
Sickert, William Stott of Oldham. Presently a cab was called for
Lady Archibald Campbell and she was escorted to it by Whistler.
On his return, he asked if I would like to see what he was
working at. He brought out canvas after canvas, and asked me
to say what I thought. I saw a number of portraits, some six or
seven full-lengths, painted on coarse canvas like sail-cloth or
sacking, and the very beautiful St. Mark's, Venice. Whistler
asked me if Ruskin would admit he could draw architecture. I
laughed, and said that the combination of tone and detail in
atmosphere he had there, would be a joy to any lover of painting.
I had about an hour and a half with the ' Master,' and I have never
forgotten this interview — his sympathy and interest, his great
courtesy and kindliness to me. The bare studio in the twilight,
the well-worn painted Sheraton settee, the receipted bills on the
wall, the Chippendale table used as palette, the group of colours
on the shining glassy table top — white, yellow ochre, light-red,
vermilion, and black in large masses, which were kept constantly
mixed in a deft way by the youth who brought me in, the charming
studies in pastel of the nude drawn on brown paper, which were
pinned on the walls, the tiny graceful little figure, ' the silver flame '
in the hair, and the alertness and decorum of all his movements
28 [1887
LA NOTE ROUGE
MAUD READING IN A HAMMOCK
(Water-Colour)
THE STUDIO IN THE FULHAM ROAD
impressed me with memories I can never forget. His warm shake
hands, his repeated invitations for me to see him when I was in
London, and to write to him, made me very much pleased with my
visit."
Mr. E. J. Horniman, M.P., who had a studio near by, tells
us that he often saw on the roof of the omnibus stable (just
behind the studio) pictures put out, exposed face up to the
weather to tone and harden.
Many who visited the studio were no more surprised at its
bareness than to find Whistler working in his ordinary clothes,
or else all in white. He sometimes wore his white jacket ;
sometimes took off his coat and waistcoat, displaying spotless
linen sleeves. He was as fastidious with his work as with
his dress. He could not endure a slovenly palette, or brushes
and paints in disorder. Unfortunately, after his wife's
death, he ruined the two portraits of himself in the white
painting jacket, which he had never exhibited, by changing
the white to a black coat.
Other reminiscences of the Fulham Road period we have
from Mr. William M. Chase, who came to London in 1886,
withva suggestion that he and Whistler should paint each
other ; also that Whistler should go back to America with
him and open a school. " Well, you know, that anyway
will be all right, Colonel," as Whistler used to call Chase.
" Of course, everybody will receive me ; tug-boats will
come down the Bay ; it will all be perfect ! " He thought
so seriously of going, that for an interval he hesitated to
send work to the London galleries, fearing he might want it
for America.
The portraits were begun. Whistler painted a full-length
of Chase, in frock-coat and top hat, a cane held jauntily
across his legs. As he wrote afterwards, in a letter in-
cluded in The Gentle Art, " I, who was charming, made him
1887] 29
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
beautiful on canvas, the Masher of the Avenues." At times
Whistler was delighted with what he had done :
" Look at this, Colonel ! look at this ; did you ever see anything
finer ? "
" It's meek or modest, they'll have to put on your tomb-
stone ! "
" Say ' and ' not * or,' meek and modest ! H'm ! — we 1, you
know, splendid, Chase ! "
Mr. Chase remembers an evening when they had to dine
out, and Whistler had some distance to go home to dress
with a longer distance to the dinner, and it was almost the
hour. When he ventured to remind him, Whistler was
indignant :
" What, Chase, you can think of dinner and time when we are
just doing such beautiful things ? Stay where you are, and they
will be glad to see me whenever I choose to come."
The portrait has never been seen since, but has vanished
with many another. Chase painted Whistler in frock-coat,
without a hat but with the long cane, against a yellow wall,
and his portrait remains. He had intended stopping only
a short time that summer in London, as he passed through
to Madrid. But he found Whistler so delightful and stimu-
lating that the visit to Madrid was put off. He has told
many incidents of these few months spent with Whistler,
in a lecture often delivered in the United States. A lecturer,
no doubt, must adapt himself to his audience, and Mr. Chase
has dwelt principally on Whistler, the man : — Whistler, the
dandy, in white ducks, carrying the long bamboo cane ;
Whistler, the fantastic, designing, for the tour in America,
a white hansom with yellow reins and a white-and-yellow
livery for the negro servant ; Whistler, the traveller, driving
his companion to desperation. Their journey was to Belgium
and Holland. They stopped at Antwerp, and went together
30 [1887
A 1'ORTRAIT (MAUD)
THE STUDIO IN THE FULHAM ROAD
to an International Exhibition there. Whistler said to us
once that he could be never ill-natured, only wicked. This
was one of the occasions when he was ** wicked." In the
gallery, he refused to look at any pictures except those
that told stories, annoying Chase by asking if the cat would
really catch the mouse and the baby swallow the mustard-
pot. The first serious interest he showed was in the work
of Alfred Stevens. Before it he stood for long, at last, his
long expressive forefinger pointing to one passage in the
small canvas : " H'm, Colonel ! you know one would not
mind having painted that ! " Chase grew nervous as they
approached the wall devoted to Bastien-Lepage, whom he
admired, and he decided to leave Whistler. But Whistler
would not hear of it. " I'll only say one word, Chase," he
promised. Then they came to the Bastiens : " H'm, h'm,
Colonel, the one word — School ! " Chase goes on to tell
of the further journey to Amsterdam. Two Germans were
in the railway carriage with them. " Well, you know,
Colonel, if the Almighty ever made a mistake, it was when
he created the German ! " Whistler said at the end of a few
minutes. Chase told him that if he could speak German,
he might understand their interesting talk. Whistler an-
swered in fluent German and talked nothing else, until, at
Haarlem, Chase could endure it no longer and left the train.
Whistler leaned out of the window as the train started :
" Think it over, Chase, and to-morrow morning you will
come on to Amsterdam, and you'll tell me that I'm right
— about the German ! "
All this is amusing and characteristic of Whistler in certain
moods, but from Mr. Chase it would be interesting to hear
less of Whistler at play and more of him at work. He gives
only now and then a glimpse of Whistler the artist, whom,
even then, he shows in lighter mood. He tells of one occa-
sion when an American friend wanted to buy some etchings,
1887] 31
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
and they were to lunch with him in the City to arrange
the matter. Taking a hansom, late already for the appoint-
ment, they passed a greengrocer's, where Whistler stopped
the driver : " Well, Chase, what do you think ? If I get
him to move the box of oranges ? What ? " And Chase
says he set to work, and the man in the City had to wait
until the sketch was done. On another occasion, Chase
expressed surprise at Whistler's refusing to deliver at once
a picture to the lady who had bought it and claimed it.
But Whistler explained :
" You know, Chase, the people don't really want anything
beautiful. They fill a room by chance with beautiful things, and
some little trumpery something over the mantelpiece gives the
whole damned show away. And if they pay a hundred pounds or
so for a picture, they think it belongs to them. Well — why — it
should only be theirs for a while — hung on their walls that they
may rejoice in it, and then returned."
It must be admitted that it is not easy, from any stand-
point, to write of Whistler during the years that followed
his return from Venice. The decade between 1880 and 1890
is the fullest of Whistler's always full life. It was during
these ten years that he opened his " one man " shows amidst
jeers, and closed them with success. It was during these
ten years that he conquered society, though society never
realised it. It was during these ten years that, to make
himself known, he became in the streets of London the
observed of all observers, developing extraordinary costumes,
attracting to himself the attention he wanted to attract.
It was during these ten years that he began to wrap himself
in mystery, as Degas said of him — and then go off and get
photographed, when, as Degas also said, he acted as if he
had no genius ; all of which was merely part of the armour
he put on to protect himself from, and draw to himself,
a foolish public. It was during these ten years that he
32 [1887
THE STUDIO IN THE FULHAM ROAD
invented the Followers — and got rid of them ; that he flitted
from house to house, from studio to studio, and through
England, France, Belgium and Holland, until it is almost
impossible to keep pace with him ; that he captured
the press, though it is still unconscious of its capture ;
that he concentrated the interest of England, of the whole
world, upon him, with one object in view — that is, to make
England, to make the whole world, look at his work.
In these crowded years, two events stand out with special
prominence — his Ten o 'Clock and his invasion of the British
Artists. One states definitely his views on the subject of
art ; the other shows as definitely the position to which,
through his art, he had attained in the eyes of artists. Each,
therefore, must be written of separately.
1887] n:c 33
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE "TEN O'CLOCK."
THE YEARS EIGHTEEN EIGHTY -FOUR
TO EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-EIGHT
THE Ten o'clock was Whistler's second serious experi-
ment as a writer. He put into it all he knew
of his art, and of the laws governing it, which he
believed to be unalterable and everlasting. Mr. W. C.
Alexander has told us that, when he listened to the Ten
o'Clock at Prince's Hall, there was nothing in it fresh to
him ; he had heard it all for years from Whistler. The only
new thing was Whistler's decision to say in public what
he had long said in private. He was busy with this work
throughout the autumn and early winter of 1884-85.
Friends who saw him then share memories of the same
unceasing care he gave to his writing as to his painting.
He would appear at all sorts of strange hours, up to mid-
night, with a page or two to submit to Mr. Alan S. Cole,
in whose diary, from early October until February, note
follows note of visits from Whistler or evenings spent
helping him :
October 24th (1884) : " Whistler to dine. We passed the even-
ing writing out his views on Uuskin, Art, &c.
October 21th : " Jimmy to dinner, continuing notes as to himself,
and Art.
October 28th : " Writing out Whistler's notes for him.
October 29th : " Jimmy to dine. Writing notes as to his
opinions on Art matters, and discussing whether to offer them for
publication to English Illustrated Magazine edited by Comyns
Carr, or to whom ? "
34 [188*
THE "TEN O'CLOCK"
Mr. G. A. Holmes, in his Chelsea house, was constantly
roused by the well-known sharp ring and quick double
knock, followed by Whistler with a new page or paragraph
for his approval. Mr. Menpes writes that " scores of times
— I might almost say hundreds of times — he paced up and
down the Embankment at night, repeating to me sentences
from the marvellous lecture." During a few days' illness
which kept Whistler at his brother's house in Wimpole Street,
where, when ill, he always went to be taken care of, Mrs.
Whistler recalls him sitting, propped up by pillows, while
he wrote and read new passages to the doctor and herself.
His original plan for an article in the English Illustrated,
then in the first days of brilliant promise, never came to
anything. In November 1884, Lord Powerscourt, Mr.
Ludovici says in the Art Journal (July 1906), invited Whistler
to Ireland to distribute prizes at an art school and to speak
to the students, and nothing seemed more appropriate for the
purpose than the notes he had written. On November 19
(1884), Mr. Cole recorded :
" Whistler called and told us how he was invited to Ireland,
where he was sending some of his works, and would lecture in
Dublin."
The invitation came from the Dublin Sketching Club.
Mr. Booth Pearsall writes us of his kindness in accepting
the invitation, and of the interest of the exhibition which
was heid at Leinster Hall, three other Americans — Sargent,
Julian Story and Ralph Curtis — being represented with him.
No such large and fine collection of Whistlers had hitherto
been seen anywhere out of London, a fact which alone made
this show memorable. We quote Mr. Pearsall :
" His letters show how exceedingly generous he was to a club
of strangers by lending them twenty-five of his works. This
collection included the Portrait of My Mother, Lady Meux, and
1884] 35
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Carlyle, and a number of Nocturnes, and other bits in oil, water-
colour and pastel. The pictures had to be hung together in a group.
As I was so interested in them, with Mr. Whistler's permission, I
had them photographed. He never asked for rights or commis-
sion, but, in the most gracious, generous way, gave us the per-
mission to use the negatives as we liked. The exhibition was
hardly open, before the critical music began, and, in the papers
and in conversation, a regular tempest arose, that was highly
diverting to Mr. Whistler. He begged me to send him everything
said about the exhibition, good, bad and indifferent, and his letters
show he quite enjoyed all the heat and ferment. The whole of
Dublin was convulsed, and many went to Molesworth Street to
see the exhibition who rarely went to see anything of the kind.
Then a terrible convulsion took place in the club : a group of
members we had admitted, who photographed, got together, and
drew up resolutions, that never again should such pictures be ex-
hibited. None of these men could even paint. The talent of the
club replied by having Mr. Whistler elected as Hon. Member, and
it wras carried, despite intense resistance. I took an active part
in all this. It was with a view to helping Mr. Whistler that I did
my best to have his famous Ten o'clock given in Dublin. He
was at first disposed to come over, but other matters prevented
him, and the matter dropped. During the time of the exhibition,
I tried my utmost to sell the pictures, and an offer was made by a
friend to purchase The Mother and the Carlyle, which seemed to
promise well, but ultimately stopped. I did induce the friend to
purchase Piccadilly, which had been No. 9, Nocturne in Grey and
Gold — Piccadilly (water colour), in his exhibition in Bond Street
that May (Dowdeswell's). He was very much pleased, indeed,
and sent the owner, the Right Hon. Jonathan Hogg, P.O., a
receipt, greatly to Mr. Hogg's amusement, for an impression was
rife amongst the public, that he never did attend to business
matters. I know from personal friends, who knew Mr. Whistler
then, how much pleased he was, not only with the purchase of his
pictures, but with the commotion that exhibition caused."
Whistler did not give up the idea of a lecture. Archibald
Forbes heard him read his essay, was impressed, and intro-
duced him to Mrs. D'Oyly Carte. She had managed a
lecture tour for Forbes, and now she agreed to arrange one
36 [1884
JAMES McXEILL WHISTLER
(From a bust l>y Sir J. K. Jiochm)
THE "TEN O'CLOCK"
evening for Whistler. She has told us of his fastidious
attention to the details. " The idea was absolutely his,"
she writes us, " and all I did was to see to the business
arrangements. Knowing him, you can imagine how enthu-
siastic he was over it all, and how he made one enthusiastic
too." She was just about to produce The Mikado, and,
sure that he would find her in her office at the Savoy Theatre,
he would appear there every evening to talk things over,
or would send Mr. Walter Sickert with a message. Whistler
delighted in her office, a tiny room lit by one lamp on her
desk, with strange effects of light and shadow, but the only
record that remains in his work of his many visits is in the
two etchings, Savoy Scaffolding and Miss Lenoir, Mrs. D'Oyly
Carte's name before her marriage. Prince's Hall was taken
for the lecture. Whistler suggested the hour. People
were not to rush to him from the dinner-table as to the
theatre, therefore ten was as early as one could expect them
to be punctual, and the hour gave the name : the Ten o' Clock.
He designed the ticket, he had it enlarged into a poster, he
chose the offices and galleries where tickets should be sold.
There was a rehearsal at Prince's Hall on February 19 (1885),
Mrs. D'Oyly Carte sitting in front to tell him if his voice
carried. Whistler had his lecture by heart, his delivery
was excellent, he needed no coaching, only an occasional
warning to raise his voice. It was because he feared his
voice would not carry that he gave his nightly rehearsals
on the Embankment, so Mr. Menpes says.
On the night itself, February 20, 1885, the hall Was crowded.
Mrs. D'Oyly Carte wondered why so many people came,
certain that nothing less was expected than the seriousness of
the lecturer and his lecture. The reporters admitted after-
wards that they asked each other whether " the eccentric artist
was going to sketch, to pose, to sing, or to rhapsodise ? "
A writer in the Daily Telegraph confessed that he thought
1885] 37
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
** anything might be expected — a burlesque, a breakdown,
or a comic dance," and was therefore frankly surprised when
the " amiable eccentric, tacitly allowed to anticipate even
the first of April," chose to appear simply as " a jaunty,
unabashed, composed, and self-satisfied gentleman, armed
with an opera hat and an eyeglass." Others were so amazed
to see him *' attired in faultless evening dress " that they
had to note the fact in their report. Followers compared
the small figure in black against the shadowy background
to one of his own arrangements. Friends have said that he
looked like his own portrait of Sarasate on the concert plat-
form, and they recall the hat carefully placed on the table
and the long cane against the wall behind him. Oscar
Wilde's description was, " a miniature Mephistopheles
mocking the majority." The unprejudiced saw the dignity
of his presence and the simplicity of his manner ; all were
compelled to feel the beauty and earnestness of his words.
Mrs. Anna Lea Merritt writes us :
"It is always a delight to remember that actually once Mr.
Whistler was really shy ! Those who had the pleasure of hearing
his first Ten o'clock must remember that when he came before
his rather puzzled and distinguished audience, there were a few
minutes of very palpable stage fright."
He had notes, but he seldom referred to them. He held
the audience from the first, and Mrs. D'Oyly Carte remembers
the hush in the hall when he came to his description of
London transfigured, a fairyland in the night. " I went
to laugh and I stayed to praise," is Mr. Lewis F. Day's
account to us, and others were generous enough to make
the same admission.
Whistler forced his audience to listen to him because
he spoke with conviction. The Ten o'clock was the state-
ment of simple truths which his contemporaries were doing
their best to forget. When we read it to-day, our surprise
38 [1885
THE "TEN O'CLOCK"
is that things so obvious needed saying even while we are
thankful that the need existed, since to this need we owe
one of the most interesting professions of artistic faith
ever made by an artist. The lecture was given in the
'eighties when " art " had been driven to such a height of
popularity that it ran the risk of disappearing in the fads
and follies and excesses of those who had helped to
popularise it. The reaction against the paltry anecdote
and sentiment of early Victorian art had been extreme.
Ruskin, through his books, the Pre-Raphaelites Holman
Hunt and Millais, through their pictures, had spread the
doctrine that art was a question of ethics and industry.
Rossetti and writers like Pater would have had the world
believe that it belonged to the past and that men must
grope their way back through the centuries to resurrect it.
William Morris and his school taught that it sprang from
the people and to the people must be returned before there
could be hope for it. Men and women clad themselves
in strange, sad-coloured garments and called themselves
" aesthetes " ; many, besides Oscar Wilde, " peddled " art
in the provinces ; artists preached its political importance ;
parsons discorered in it a new means to salvation. Art was,
indeed, upon the town, as Whistler said, but ethics and
aestheticism, fashion and socialism, had captured it. His
lecture was a protest against all these absurdities committed
in the name of art, against the prevailing belief that art
belonged to the past, that it should be the affair of the multi-
tude, that its business was to teach or to elevate. " Art and
J°y g° together," he said, and the world's masters were
never reformers, never missionaries, but, content with their
surroundings, found beauty everywhere. There was no
great past, no mean present, for art, no drawing of lines
between the marbles of the Greek and the fans and broideries
of Japan. There was no artistic period, no art-loving people.
1885] 39
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Art happened, and, in a few eloquent words, he gave the
history of its happening and the coming of the cheap and
tawdry, when the taste of the tradesman supplanted the
science of the artist, and the multitude rejoiced. Art, he
held, is a science — the science by which the artist picks and
chooses and groups the elements contained in Nature, that
beauty may be the result. For " Nature is very rarely
right, to such an extent even, that it might almost be said that
Nature is usually wrong." He has been so frequently mis-
understood that it may be well to emphasise the meaning of
these two assertions upon which his belief was based. Art
happens, because the artist, like the scientist, may appear
anywhere or at any time ; art is a science not because, as
some painters imagine, it is concerned with laws of light or
chemistry of colours or scientific problems in the usual sense,
but because it is as exact in its methods and in its results as
the science of chemistry or any other. The artist can leave
no more to chance than the chemist or the botanist or the
biologist. Knowledge may and does increase and develop,
but the laws of art are as invariable as those of chemistry,
botany, or biology. Because art is a science, the critic who
is not an artist speaks without authority and would prize a
picture as a " hieroglyph or symbol of story," or for anything
save the painter's poetry, which is the sole reason for its
existence : " the amazing invention that shall have put form
and colour into such perfect harmony, that exquisiteness is
the result." The conditions of art are degraded by these
" middlemen," and no less by the foolish who would go back
because the thumb of the mountebank jerked the other way.
He laughed at the pretence of the State as fosterer of art —
art that roams as she will, from the builders of the Parthenon
to the opium-eaters of Nankin, from the Master at Madrid to
Hokusai at the foot of Fusiyama. It is said by some that
Whistler's philosophy was thin : his statement that such a
40 [1885
CREMORNE GARDENS, NO. II. /
THE "TEN O'CLOCK"
thing as an artistic period has never been known is dismissed
by others as a boyish utterance. But it is the very simplicity
of the truth taught by Whistler that is mistaken for thinness
to-day, when the necessity of the teaching is not so evident.
It is forgotten that his denial of an artistic period or an
art-loving people was in his defence of art against those
who would have bound it by dates and confined it within
geographical limits. He meant, not that a certain period
might not produce more artists and more people to appreciate
them than another, but that art is independent of time
and place :
" seeking and finding' the beautiful in all conditions and in all
times, as did her high priest, Rembrandt, when he saw picturesque
grandeur and noble dignity in the Jews' quarter of Amsterdam,
and lamented not that its inhabitants were not Greeks.
" As did Tintoret and Paul Veronese, among the Venetians,
while not halting to change the brocaded silks for the classic
draperies of Athens.
" As did, at the Court of Philip, Velasquez, whose Infantas,
clad in insesthetic hoops, are, as works of Art, of the same
quality as the Elgin marbles."
He might have added, as did Whistler, whose Thames,
flowing through London, is lovelier far than the rivers of
any imaginary Garden of Eden, and whose men and women
are as stately as the Venetian's or the Spaniard's, though
clothed in the fashions the day decreed.
His argument was clear and logical, and his facts, revolu-
tionary then, are becoming the truisms of a later generation.
Critics, photographers, even Royal Academicians have
appropriated and made use of many of the ideas of the
Ten o'clock, for strange things are happening to the memory
of the Idle Apprentice.
Whistler, as a lecturer, made his points wittily ; he chose
his words and rounded his sentences with the same feeling
for the beautiful that ruled his painting. The Ten o 'Clock
1885] 41
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
has passed into literature. Those Sunday wrestlings with
Scripture in Lowell, that getting of the Psalms by heart at
Stonington, had helped him to develop a style the literary
man by profession may well envy. This style in Art and
Art Critics had its roughnesses. He pruned and chastened
it in his letters to the papers, devoting infinite thought and
trouble to the slightest, for he, more than most men, believed
that whatever he had to do was worth doing with all his
might. Even in his private correspondence he was as
scrupulous, and we have known him go so far as to make a
rough draft of a letter to his bootmaker in Paris, and ask
us to dictate it to him while he wrote his fair copy, as a
final touch addressing it to M. , Maitre Bottler. In the
Ten o'clock, as a result of so much practice, he brought his
style to perfection. Many things he said concerned passing
fads and fancies, but his philosophy was based on the eternal
truths of art and expressed with the beauty that endures
for all time.
The critics treated the lecture as they treated his exhibi-
tions. The Daily News was almost alone in owning honestly
that the quality of the lecture was a surprise. The Times
had the majority with it, when it said that the audience,
hoping for an hour's amusement from " the eccentric genius
of the artist," were not disappointed. " The eccentric freak
of an amiable, humorous, and accomplished gentleman,"
was the Daily Telegraph's opinion. Oscar Wilde, in the
Pall Mall Gazette, was shocked that a mere artist should
speak on art, and was unwilling to accept the dictum that
only a painter is a judge of painting. This was natural, for
it was as an authority on art that Wilde had made himself
known in the beginning. Nor could he assent to much that
Whistler said, for, as a lecturer, he had been something of a
perambulating advertisement for the " aesthetic movement,"
against which the Ten o' Clock was a protest. But he was
42 [1885
THE "TEN O'CLOCK'
more generous than other critics in'acknowledging the beauty
of the lecture and the earnestness of the lecturer, though he
could not finish his notice in the Pall Mall without one parting
shot at the man whose target he had so often been : " that
he is indeed one of the very greatest masters of painting
is my opinion. And I may add that, in this opinion, Mr.
Whistler himself entirely concurs." This was not the sort
of thing Whistler could pass in silence. His answer led to
a correspondence which made still another chapter in The
Gentle Art, where it may be read in full.
Whistler repeated the Ten o' Clock several times — first
early in March, before the British Artists, and later in the
same month (the 24th) before the University Art Society
at Cambridge, where he spent the night with Mr. Sidney
Colvin, who writes us :
" beyond the mere fact that Whistler dined with me in hall and
had some chat there with Prince Edward — an amiable youth, who
was a little scared at the idea of having to talk art (of which he
was blankly ignorant), but whom Whistler soon put at his ease —
I have no precise recollection of what passed."
On April 30, he gave his lecture at Oxford. Mr. Sidney
Starr says :
" I went down with Whistler and his brother, ' Doctor Willie,'
to put up at the historic ' Mitre.' The lecture hall was small, with
primitive benches,rand the audience was small in comparison with
that of London. The lecture was delivered impressively, but
lacking the original emphasis and sparkle. Whistler hated to do
anything twice over, and this was the fourth time."
The fifth time was about the same date at the Royal
Academy Students' Club in Golden Square, a curiously
unexplained accident, and a sixth at the Fine Art Society's.
Dr. Moncure Conway wrote us, a year before his death, that
he heard the Ten o'Clock at Lady Jeune's. There was a
suggestion, which came to nothing, of taking it on an American
1885] 43
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
tour and to Paris. It was heard twice more in London,
once at the Grosvenor Gallery in February 1888. Val
Prinsep remembers Whistler's pressing invitation for him
and Leighton to attend :
" During the time he was President of the British Artists, he
and the other heads of art sometimes were asked to dine by our
President (Sir F. Leighton). (' Rather late to ask me, don't you
think ? ' Whistler is said to have remarked.) After dinner, he
pressed Leighton and me to come to his lecture, Ten o'clock,
which was to be delivered a few days after. — ' What's the use of
me coming ? ' Leighton said sadly. ' You know I should not
argee with what you said, my dear Whistler ? ' — ' Oh,' cried
Whistler, ' come all the same ; nobody takes me seriously, don't
you know ! '
It was heard, for the last time, three years later (1891),
at the Chelsea Arts Club which, just started, proposed to hold
meetings for lectures and discussions, and Whistler was asked
to inaugurate them with his Ten o' Clock. When, before the
club found a home, it was suggested that the first of these
meetings should be at the Cadogan Pier Hotel, Whistler's
answer was characteristic : " No, gentlemen, let us go to no
beer hotel,'1'' and the Ten o 'Clock was put off until the club
house in the King's Road was ready.
The Ten o1 Clock was published by Messrs. Chatto and
Windus in the spring of 1888, three years after its first
delivery. It received much the same criticism when it
appeared as a pamphlet as when it was delivered as a
lecture. But the only criticism Whistler took seriously
was an article by Mr. Swinburne in the Fortnightly Review
for June 1888.
Swinburne objected to Whistler's praise of Japanese art,
to the rigid line he drew between art and literature, to his
incursion as " brilliant amateur " into the region of letters,
to his denial of the possibility of an artistic period or an
44 [1888
THE "TEN O'CLOCK"
art-loving people, and to much else besides. All this might
have passed, and the friendship between Whistler and
Swinburne have been undisturbed. But Swinburne went
further. He questioned the seriousness of Whistler. He
thought it would be certainly indecorous, and possibly
superfluous, to inquire of Whistler, " How far the witty
tongue may be thrust into the smiling cheek ? " Swinburne
hinted, if he did not say positively, that Whistler was " a
jester of genius " in the Ten o 'Clock — a " tumbler or a
clown." Whistler was jealous of the dignity of art and of
himself as artist, and was disappointed to find that Swin-
burne " also misunderstood." The most dignified, almost
pathetic, pages in The Gentle Art are those where he answers
the article — Et tu, Brute — asking Swinburne :
" Who are you, deserting your Muse, that you should insult my
Goddess with familiarity, and the manners of approach common
to the reasoners in the market-place ? "
This was followed by a letter, printed in the World under
the heading Freeing a Last Friend, in which Whistler stated
that he had " lost a confrere ; but, then, I have gained an
acquaintance — one Algernon Swinburne."
The letter was sent to Mr. Swinburne before it appeared
in the World. We have been told that it was received at
Putney one Sunday morning when Mr. Watts-Dunton was
to breakfast with Whistler. Suspecting that the letter
might not be friendly, Mr. Watts-Dunton took it, unopened,
with him to Chelsea and begged Whistler to withdraw it.
Whistler refused. Mr. Watts-Dunton left the house without
breakfasting, and the same day the letter was delivered to
Swinburne, who after reading it, pale with rage, swore
that never again would he speak to Whistler. He never did.
Mr. Watts-Dunton, we believe, was, as a result, at pains
to avoid Whistler, fearful of an open rupture with him. Mr.
1888]
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Meredith had discovered years before that the springs in
Whistler were prompt for the challenge, and it cannot be
denied that he had some reason for seeing a challenge in
Swinburne's article. He was stung to the quick, but even
in his anger he could not forget the friendship of the
past. In all its bitterness he was yet full of affection and
admiration for the poet who had "descended into the
market-place." There is one sentence in his answer that
alone would explain and justify his attitude :
" Do we not speak the same language ? Are we strangers,
then, or, in our Father's house are there so many mansions that
you lose your way, my brother, and cannot recognise your kin ? '"
46 [1888<
CHELSEA WHARF
(Grey and Silrer)
CHAPTER XXIX. THE BRITISH ARTISTS
—THE RISE. THE YEARS EIGHTEEN
EIGHTY-FOUR TO EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-
SIX
IN the autumn of 1884, Whistler joined the Society of
British Artists. Years later, once, when a British
Artist was dining with us, Whistler came in. " A de-
lightful evening," he said, towards midnight, the British
Artist having gone, " but what was it for the British
Artist sitting there, face to face with his late President ? "
And then, he told us how he first became connected with the
Society :
" Well, you know, one day at my studio in Chelsea, a deputation
arrived — Ayerst Ingram and one or two others. — And there they
were — and I received them charmingly, of course — and they repre-
sented to me that the British Artists' was an old and distinguished
Society, possibly as old as the Academy, and maybe older, and they
had come to ask me if I would do them the honour of becoming a
member. It was only right I should know that the Society's
fortunes were at a low ebb, but they wished to put new life into
it. I felt the ceremony of the occasion. Whatever the Society
was at the moment, it had a past, and they were there with all
official authority to pay me a compliment. I accepted the offer
with appropriate courtesy. As always, I understood the cere-
monial of the occasion — and then, almost as soon as I was made a
member, I was elected President."
In the summer of 1906, Mr. Alfred East, President of the
British Artists, and the Council, with the courtesy Whistler
would have approved, gave us permission to consult the
Minute Books. The first mention of Whistler is in the Minutes
1884] 47-
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
of the half-yearly General Meeting, November 21, 1884, held
at the Suffolk Street Galleries. Among those present were
Ayerst Ingram, Yeend King, David Law, Jacomb-Hood,
H. H. Cauty, the two Ludovicis — father and son — Bernard
Evans, Arthur Hill, and Wyke Bayliss. It was proposed
by Mr. Hill, seconded by Mr. Ingram,
" that Mr. Whistler be invited to join the Society as a member.
A discussion took place concerning the law of electing Mr. Whistler
by Ballot, when it was proposed by Mr. Bayliss, seconded by Mr.
Cauty, that the law relating to the election of members be
suspended."
This was carried, and, the Times said (December 3, 1884),
" Artistic society was startled by the news that this most
wayward, most un-English of painters had found a home
among the men of Suffolk Street — of all people in the world."
Whistler had never before belonged to any society of
artists in England, and had never been asked to belong to
one. He was now fifty, an age when most men have " arrived "
officially, if they are to " arrive " at all. The reason why
the British Artists, at so late a date, thought it to their
advantage to invite him, and why their action startled the
world, will be better understood when his position as an
artist and his relations to his contemporaries are remembered.
Up to this moment he had stood alone, apart from every
school and group and movement in the country which he
had made his home. He was as complete a foreigner in
England as when he came, a quarter of a century before,
fresh from the studios of Paris. As a man, he was still a
puzzle to the people among whom he lived, more American
or French than English in his appearance, his manners, and
his standards. His short, slight figure, his dark colouring,
his abundant curls, his vivacity of gesture, his American
accent, his gaiety, his sense of honour, his quick resentment
of an insult, were all foreign, and therefore to be suspected,
48 [1884
THE BRITISH ARTISTS— THE RISE
and his personality increased the suspicion with which his
art was regarded. It was as foreign, as " un-English," and
he was found no less disquieting as an artist than as a man.
Recent critics have separated in his work the several ten-
dencies they have discovered there, and pointed out where
it is American, where French, where Japanese. But to his
contemporaries it did not matter what these tendencies
were, since the result was something that was not English.
His art, in its aims and methods, was so entirely distinct
from theirs that to them he seemed in deliberate and ill-
regulated opposition, ruled by caprice and straining after
novelty.
When Whistler came to England, English art was almost
exclusively embodied in the Academy which had grown
stronger with every year and was never so powerful as in the
'seventies and 'eighties, though then the fine traditions of
English art had been forgotten and the painter's problems
neglected. The artist was absorbed in anecdote, in history,
in that artificial composition, constructed out of the things
he did not know and could never see for himself, against
which the young Frenchmen, with whom Whistler studied
in the 'fifties, had been most strenuously in revolt. Wilkie
set the ideal for the nineteenth -century Academician when
he said that " to know the taste of the public — to learn
what will best please the employer — is to an artist the most
valuable of all knowledge." It was a knowledge assiduously
cultivated and with remarkable success. The classical
inventions of Leighton, Tadema, and Poynter appealed to
the scholar ; the idyls of Millais, Marcus Stone and Leslie
to the sentimentalist. Watts preached sermons for the
serious, Stacy Marks raised a laugh in the humourist, Herbert
and Long edified the pious. Every taste was catered to.
Everybody could understand, and, as a consequence, art
had never been so popular in England. The Academy
1884] ii :D 49
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
became a social force. As art was the last thing looked
for in the picture of the Academician, so the artist was the
last thing looked for in the Academician. The situation is
summed up in Whistler's reply to a group of ladies who were
praising Leighton :
" He is such a wonderful musician ! — such a gallant colonel ! —
such a brilliant orator ! — such a dignified President ! — such a
charming host ! — such an amazing linguist ! " — " H'm, paints,
too, don't he, among his other accomplishments ? "
It was an extraordinary state of affairs. " Art " was
little more than an excuse for all sorts of social trivialities.
The men who were thought daring in rebellion and leaders
of a secession did little to improve matters. The Pre-
Raphaelites and their followers were as absorbed in subject,
though they paid greater attention to the treatment of it,
and preached, as almost all reformers always have, a return
to Nature. But their attempts at reform in technique
retarded rather than helped development in the right direc-
tion. Their insistence upon detail and " finish " did not
open the painter's eyes to the truths and beauties of Nature,
but closed them more hopelessly than ever by making it a
matter of duty with him to see nothing but subordinate,
often unimportant, facts, and to copy them with the fidelity
of a machine. The rare exception, like Alfred Stevens, who
neither stooped to consider the taste of public and employer
nor forgot the artist in the missionary, was as complete a
pariah as Whistler.
The position in France Was different. There, too, was
a strong, powerful, academic body, but French officialism
respected tradition. The art of the academic painters
might be frigid, conventional and dull, but it was never
petty and trivial, never strove to please by escape from the
obligations and restrictions of drawing and paint. Gleyre,
Ary Scheffer, Couture were the masters Whistler found
50 [1884
THE BRITISH ARTISTS— THE RISE
in Paris. Their successors — men like Ge'rome, Jean-Paul,
Laurens, Bouguereau, Bonnat — did not altogether throw
their dignity as artists to the winds of popularity, or sacrifice
it to social ambition. The rebels in France were not actuated
by moral or literary motives, but broke away from convention
as painters. Rebellion sent Holman Hunt to Palestine,
Rossetti to mediaevalism, Burne-Jones to legend and alle-
gory ; it kept Courbet at home, for the true was the beau-
tiful, and truth was to be had in the life and the people the
painter knew as well as in strange lands and outlived cen-
turies. Moreover, the painter was to see all these things,
not as through a microscope, but as the human eye was
made to see them. No man who looks out upon a broad
landscape can count the blades of grass in a field or the
leaves of ivy on a wall ; the eye can take it in only as a
whole, enveloped in atmosphere, bathed in light, all objects
in it keeping their places in their respective planes. While,
in England, the artist was searching the Scriptures, the
classics and history for subject, and always for subject, in
France he was training his eyes to see things as they are
and his hand to render them in their proper relations, that is,
with their proper values. This pre-occupation with the aspect
of Nature, and the study of values, gave them new pictorial
and technical problems to solve, and subject counted for
nothing, except as an aid to their right solution. It is
curious to contrast the work of the men in France and England
who were of the same generation as Whistler. The young
Fantin-Latour grouped his friends about the portrait of the
master dead but yesterday, while the young Leighton was
re-arranging a procession of early Florentines to carry anew
the Madonna of Cimabue through their streets. Manet
noted the play of light and colour in the bull-rings of Spain,
while Tadema rebuilt on his canvas the arenas of ancient
Rome. Degas chose his models among the washerwomen
1884] 51
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
and ballet-girls of modern Paris, while Rossetti borrowed his
from Dante.
Whistler, from his very first picture, was as pre-occupied
with the beauty in the "familiar" as his French fellow
students. What might have happened had he remained in
France — whether he would have developed into another
Fantin, another Manet, another Degas — it is idle to discuss.
Coming to England, he developed in his own way, and this
was a way with which English painters had no sympathy
whatever. He was so isolated, so apart, in his work, that
nothing has been more difficult for the historian of modern
art than to place, to classify, him. Some authorities have
included him among the Realists. His work eventually
differed from that of Courbet and Courbet's disciples, but
he was always as much a realist as they in his preference for
the world in which he lived, and in his study of the relations
to each other — the values — of the things he found in it. He
never wavered, except when he painted the Japanese pictures
as we have pointed out, and even then he was not led astray
by anecdote, or sentiment, but by the beauty that had
drifted from Japan into his house and studio. London,
foggy, dirty, gloomy, despised by most artists, with its little
shops and taverns in the fog-bound streets ; the Thames,
with its ugly warehouses and gaunt factories in the mist-
laden night ; the crinolines of the 'sixties ; the clinging,
tight draperies of the 'seventies, — became beautiful as he
saw them. He made no effort to reform, to improve upon
Nature, only reserving for himself his right to select the
elements in it that were beautiful and could be brought
together, as the notes in music, to create harmony — in his
practice carrying out his teaching of the Ten 6* Clock. He
sought colour and form in nature, not infinitesimal detail.
The Pre-Raphaelites wanted to leave out as little as a camera
omits, he wanted to put in no more than comes within the
52 [1884
THE BALCONY
(Harmony in Flesh Colour and Green)
THE BRITISH ARTISTS— THE RISE
painter's vision. He turned his back on the history and
archaeology in favour at the Academy, filling his canvas
with no meaning except whatever there may be in the beauty
of rhythm and design. And all the time he struggled to
perfect his technical methods, to make of them a perfect
medium by which to express this beauty, to reconcile what
he could see in Nature with what his brush could render.
The Pre-Raphaelites laboured over their canvas, inch by
inch ; he painted his whole picture at once that unity might
be the result. The Academicians lost their way in literary
labyrinths ; he lingered on the river, getting by heart the
secret of its charm, he watched the movement, the pose, of
the men and women around him. The modern exhibition
forced most painters into violent colour and exaggerated
action as their one chance of attracting attention ; he made
no concession but kept on painting for himself, though
he was ready to submit his pictures when they were finished
to the same test as others.
It was inevitable that his English contemporaries could
make nothing of him and eyed his work with doubt and
mistrust. The Academician saw nothing at all in his pic-
tures. To the Pre-Raphaelite they were slovenly and super-
ficial. Holman Hunt said of him that he knew where to
leave off and was careful in the avoidance of difficulties ;
Millais thought him " a great power of mischief among
young men," " a man who had never learnt the grammar of
his art." The critics took their cue from the painters, the
more willingly because art criticism then meant the elaborate
analysis of the subject of a picture, and, judged by the
prevailing standpoint, there was no subject in Whistler's
pictures to analyse. The public, in the public's usual fashion,
followed like sheep, convinced that his work was empty,
slight, trivial, an insult to their intelligence, unless they
took it as a jest. " Eccentric " still was the usual adjective
1884] 53
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
to apply to him, and nothing explains the popular conception
of him better than the readiness to see eccentricity even in
those methods which he, " heir to all the ages," had inherited
from other masters. Thus, his long-handled brushes and
his manner of placing sitter and canvas when he painted a
portrait were eccentric, though they had been Gainsborough's
a century before. Again, to say that a picture was finished
from the beginning was no less eccentric, though it was one
of Baudelaire's favourite axioms that the author already
foresees the last line of his work when he writes the first.
It is easier to make than to lose the reputation for eccen-
tricity, which is fatal to success in a land of convention.
Whistler saw the Englishmen, who had studied in Paris at
the same time with him, laden with honours — Poynter, a
distinguished member of the Academy and Leighton its
President, Du Maurier the favoured contributor to Punch,
Armstrong an important official at South Kensington — when
he was still, officially, on the outside — at fifty less honoured
than at twenty-five, because now it was said that he had not
realised the promise of his youth.
In one respect, however, his position had changed with
time — his position among the young. His contemporaries
did not alter their opinion of him, but the new generation
of artists, grown up in the meanwhile and now "arriving,"
turned to him as unmistakably as the older men held aloof.
Though doubted and mistrusted, he had never been quite
without influence. To look over old reviews and notices of
exhibitions is to find, long before the 'eighties, frequent
references to the effect of his example upon other artists.
During the 'eighties, in the Art Journal (June 1887), Sir
Walter Armstrong traced the growing influence of French
on English art to the Paris Universal Exhibition of 1867 and
to Whistler. But the artists of the new generation went
much further than the admission of his influence ; with the
54 L1884
THE BRITISH ARTISTS— THE RISE
enthusiasm of youth, they proclaimed Whistler's greatness
from the house-tops. He was not only an influence, he was
their master — the one master in England. After his return
from Venice, when his fortunes were at their lowest ebb
and the public held him in most contempt, this enthusiasm
began to make itself heard and felt in the studios and the
schools. -.
It was the moment also when the fortunes of the British
Artists were at lowest ebb, and heroic measures were needed
to mend them. The Society, as Whistler said, was old, with
distinguished chapters in its history. It was formed by
one of the first groups who realised the necessity of an asso-
ciation of their own in self-defence against the monopoly of
the Academy. It dated back to the beginning of the nine-
teenth century. With the old Water Colour Society, it was
held by the public only second in rank to the Academy. Its
gallery was in Suffolk Street, near enough to the Academy to
profit by any overflow of visitors, until the Academy moved
from Trafalgar Square to Piccadilly. The old Water-colour
Society was more independent, because it devoted itself to a
branch of art never in high Academical favour. But the
British Artists suffered from this removal, and also from the
formation of new associations that gave prominence to oil
painting, and eventually it found a formidable rival in the
Grosvenor Gallery, backed by money, with the attraction of
novelty and the advertisement of notoriety. Uncertain of
their future, they were forced to desperate remedies. In
Whistler, with his enthusiastic following among the young
and rising, they seemed to see just the man to drag them
from the pit of obscurity and impotence into which they
were sinking. The older members hesitated — afraid of
Whistler, afraid of the Academy, afraid of themselves. But
the younger members carried the day.
Whistler accepted their advances, strange as it struck
1884] 55
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
people at the time, because he always wished for, and appre-
ciated, official honours and recognition. It was the first
formal compliment from any body of his fellow craftsmen,
and he was gratified by it, realising also that his identification
with a society of respectable age and standing would most
certainly influence public opinion concerning himself.
Whistler's acceptance of the honour was not an empty form.
He worked hard for the Society from his election as a member
to his resignation as President. He attended his first meeting
on December 1, 1884, and interested himself immediately
in the affairs of the Society, though, according to Mr. Ludo-
vici, this was the last thing the Society expected of him.
He promptly invited his President and fellow members to
breakfast in Tite Street, and, as promptly, was put on a
committee for a smoking concert, or conversazione. He at
once sent to the Winter Exhibition (1884-85) two pictures —
Arrangement in Black, No. II., the portrait of Mrs. Louis
Huth, not exhibited in London since 1874, and a water-
colour, A Little Red Note, Dordrecht, and for the Summer
Exhibition (1885) he kept his latest work, the Sarasate,
never exhibited before. Mr. Cole, seeing the portrait in the
studio the preceding October, wrote in his diary :
" October I9th (1884) : M. and I went to tea with Whistler to
see his fine full-length of Sarasate, the violinist, for next year's
Academy."
But, whatever his original intention may have been, the
Sarasate went to the British Artists, with several small deli-
cate Notes and Harmonies. If, in electing him, the British
Artists hoped to attract attention to their exhibition, they
were not disappointed. " The eccentric Mr. Whistler has
gone to a neglected little gallery, the British Artists, which
he will probably bring into fashion," Mr. Claude Phillips
wrote in the Gazette des Beaux- Arts (July 1885), and this is
56 [1885
THE BRITISH ARTISTS— THE RISE
precisely what happened. The distinction of the Sarasaie
could not be denied. But in his other work he was pro-
nounced " vastly amusing " ; the Pall Mall Gazette seized
this occasion to remind him of " Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes'
virtuous determination never to be as funny as he could. It
is so bad for the young."
At a meeting on June 1 (1885), Whistler proposed that
Sunday receptions should be given in the gallery, and he
was put on the committee with Mr. John Burr, the President,
and Mr. G. A. Holmes. He seconded Mr. Ingram's reso-
lution that the Society should award two medals, one for
figure, the other for landscape. He took part in the election
of Mr. Mortimer Menpes as " a member for water-colour,"
showing that water-colour was regarded as a separate art,
and members might be elected as water-colour painters
without being members for other mediums — a division into
distinct sections that he carried out in the International
Society, as he did also the suggestion now made that photo
graphs of members' pictures should be sold in the gallery.
For the Winter Exhibition of 1885-86 he had another interest-
ing group, including the Portrait of Mrs. Cassatt and the
Note in Green and Violet, a small pastel of a nude which
created the most unexpected sensation. About a month
before the show opened, J. C. Horsley, R.A., had read during
a Church Congress a paper no one would have given a
thought to, had not Whistler immortalised it. Horsley
said :
" If those who talk and write so glibly as to the desirability of
artists devoting themselves to the representation of the naked
human form, only knew a tithe of the degradation enacted before
the model is sufficiently hardened to her shameful calling, they
would forever hold their tongues and pens in supporting the
practice. Is not clothedness a distinct type and feature of our
Christian faith ? All art representations of nakedness are out of
harmony with it."
1885] 57
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Whistler answered with " one of the little things that
Providence sometimes sent him " : " Horsley soil qui mal y
pense" he wrote on a label, and fastened it to the Note in
Green and Violet. The British Artists were alarmed, for to
enter Suffolk Street was not to abandon all hope of the
Academy. The label was removed, but not before it had
been seen. The Pall Mall was pleased to refer to the label
as Whistler's " indignant protest against the idea that
there is any immorality in the nude." But Whistler, who
knew when ridicule served better than indignation, wrote,
" Art certainly requires no ' indignant protest ' against the
unseemliness of senility. Horsley soit qui mal y pense is
meanwhile a sweet sentiment — why more — and why
' morality ' ? "
When Whistler Was asked to join the Society, its revenue
had been rapidly decreasing, and a deficit of five hundred
pounds had to be faced. To meet the difficulty by economy
he proposed, to begin with, that the luncheon on press
day be discontinued. It was an almost general custom
then to feast the critics who attended the press view of
picture exhibitions. But in few was the cloth more lavishly
spread for the press than at the British Artists', in few
were boxes of cigars and whisky-and-soda placed so con-
veniently. Some critics resented it, others liked it. Press
day, the dreariest in the year at the Royal Academy, was
the most delightful at the British Artists', they said.
Mr. Sidney Starr tells a story of one of these press
views, when Whistler had not hung his picture, but only
the frame :
"Telegrams were sent imploring the placing of the canvas.
But the only answer that came was, ' The Press have ye always
with you, feed my lambs.' A smoking concert followed during
the exhibition. At this, one critic said to the Master, 'Your
picture is not up to your mark ; it is not good this time.' ' You
58 [1885
THE BRITISH ARTISTS— THE RISE
should not say it isn't good ; you should say you don't like it,
and then, you know, you're perfectly safe ; now come and have
something you do like, have some whisky,' said] Whistler."
In the place of the luncheon, Whistler suggested a Sunday
breakfast when members should pay for themselves and
their guests. But members were horrified, and his motion
was rejected.
In April 1886, Mr. William Graham's collection came up
for auction at Christie's. The sale brought to it all the buyers
and admirers of Rossetti, Burne-Jones, Holman Hunt, many
of whose best pictures Graham had bought. Whistler's
Nocturne in Blue and Silver (Blue and Gold), Old Battersea
Bridge belonged to him. When it appeared, "there was a
slight attempt at an ironical cheer, which, being mistaken
for serious applause, was instantly suppressed by an angry
hiss all round," and it Was sold for sixty pounds to Mr.
R. H. C. Harrison. Whistler acknowledged, through the
Observer (April 11, 1886), " the distinguished, though I fear
unconscious, compliment so publicly paid." Such recog-
nition rarely, he said, came to the painter during his lifetime,
and to his friends he spoke of it as an unheard-of success,
the first time such a thing had happened. The hisses still
in their ears, the British Artists were dismayed by his one
contribution to the Summer Exhibition of 1886. This was
a Harmony in Blue and Gold, a large full-length of a girl in
transparent draperies of blue and green, leaning against a
railing and holding a parasol behind her, an arrangement,
like the Six Projects, uniting classic design with Japanese
detail. The draperies were transparent ; and to defy
Horsley and the British Matron was no part of the British
Artists' policy. But this time they escaped without
scandal. Whistler sent no other pictures to Suffolk Street ;
he was not represented at all at the Grosvenor, and at the
Salon only by his Sarasate, which went on afterwards to the
1886] 59
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
" XX " Club in Brussels. His principal show in 1886 was at
Messrs. DowdesWelPs Gallery. They exhibited and published
for him this year the Set of Twenty-Six Etchings, twenty-one of
the plates done in Venice, the other five in England, the price
of the Set fifty guineas. With the prints he issued the often
quoted Propositions, the first series : the laws, as he defined
them, of etching. He upheld that, in etching, as in every other
art, the space covered should be in proportion to the means
used for covering it, and that the delicacy of the needle de-
mands the smallness of the plate ; that the "Remarque,"
then so much in vogue, emanated from the amateur ; that
there should be no margin to receive a " Remarque " ; and that
the habit of margin again came from the outsider. For a
few years these Propositions were accepted by artists. At
the present time, they are ignored or defied, and the bigger
the plate, the better pleased is the etcher and his public.
It was a little later in the year, in May, that Messrs. Dowdeswell
arranged in their gallery a second series of Notes — Harmonies
— Nocturnes. A few were in oil, a few in pencil, but the
larger number were pastels and water-colours. They were
studies of the nude, impressions of the sea at Dieppe and
Dover, St. Ives and Trouville, the little shops of London and
Paris, the skies and canals of Holland. Whistler decorated
the gallery in Brown and Gold ; choosing the brown paper
for the Walls ; designing the mouldings of the dado. Mr.
Walter Dowdeswell still has the sketch in which he suggested
the scheme of raw umber, yellow ochre and raw Sienna, with
white, and the brown and yellow hangings, and yellow
velarium. The exhibition Was received with mingled ex-
pressions of praise and blame, and it would not have been
a success financially, had not Mr. H. S. Theobald, K.C.,
purchased, in the end, all that earlier buyers left on Messrs.
DowdeswelPs hands.
In the following summer Mr. Burr refused to stand again for
60 [1886
CREMORNE GARDENS
(Nocturne No. 111.)
WESTMINSTER
(Nocturne, Blue and Silver)
THE BRITISHARTIST S— T HE RISE
the Presidency, and, at a General Meeting (June 1, 1886),
Whistler was elected in his place. Mr. Ingram tells us that
the excitement at this election was intense. Whistler alone
was calm and unmoved. Mr. Ingram, a scrutineer, remembers
coming for Whistler's vote, and being so excited himself that
Whistler tried to reassure him : " Never mind, never mind,
you've done your best ! " Whistler was elected and the
meeting adjourned to the Hogarth Club for supper. " «/'*/
suis, fy reste," Whistler wired to his brother. The comic
papers were full of caricatures, the serious papers of
astonishment. He was hailed as " President Whistler " by
his friends, and denounced by members of the Society as an
artist with no claim to be called British. Younger artists,
William Stott of Oldham among them, rushed to his support,
and one French critic in London was bold enough to declare
his place to be in the Louvre between Velasquez and Tintoretto.
Whistler had intended going to America in the autumn, but
the journey was indefinitely postponed. He wrote to the
World (October 13, 1886), " this is no time for hesitation-
one cannot continually disappoint a Continent," and he settled
down to the new and difficult task of directing the fortunes
of a Society which was far from prosperous and looked to
him for help in its evil day, its members divided among
themselves, in nothing more than in their confidence in him
as President.
1886] 61
CHAPTER XXX. THE BRITISH ARTISTS—
THE FALL. THE YEARS EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-
SIX TO EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-EIGHT
A CCORDING to the constitution of the British Artists,
Jl\- the President, though elected in June, does not take
office until December. Whistler presided for the first time
at a meeting on December 10, 1886, and, from that day,
he Was supported devotedly by one faction and opposed by
the other with hostility and a want of loyalty which led to
failure in the end.
His interest became more active with his new responsibility.
His first appearance as President in the Winter Exhibition
(1886-87) was an artistic success for the British Artists. He
decorated the galleries with the care he gave to his own shows.
He put up a velarium, he hung the walls with muslin. For
those who Worked with him there Was a moment of despair,
for at the last the muslin gave out, leaving a bare space under
the ceiling. "But what matter?" Whistler said, "the
battens are well placed, they make decorative lines," and the
bare space became part of the decoration. He would allow
no overcrowding, the walls were to be the background of
good pictures well spaced and well arranged. He urged the
virtue of rejection. Mr. Sidney Starr says, " he was oblivious
to every interest but the quality of the work shown." He
told Mr. Menpes, one of the Hanging Committee,
" If you are uncertain for a moment, say ' Out.' We want
clean spaces round our pictures. We want them to be seen.
The British Artists' must cease to be a shop."
62 [1886
THE BRITISH ARTISTS— THE FALL
This was his first offence. The modern exhibition is nothing
but a shop, and as long as most artists have their way a shop
it must remain. He himself was exhibiting a splendid group
that included the Nocturne in Brown and Gold (afterwards
Blue and Gold), St. Mark's, Venice ; Harmony in Red :
Lamplight, the portrait of Mrs. Godwin ; and Harmony in
White and Ivory : Lady Colin Campbell, a beautiful portrait
of a beautiful woman, one of many that have disappeared.
It Was not finished when Whistler sent it to the exhibition,
which was made an excuse by dissatisfied members to pro-
pose its removal. The question was not " put " at the
request of the meeting when the matter came up, but
another proposition to define the rights of the President and
the President-elect was carried.
Whistler's interest was no less active in the Society's
business affairs than in the arrangement of its gallery.
One of his first acts was to offer to advance or loan the
Society five hundred pounds to pay off its pressing debt.
Mr. Sidney Starr describes him,
" during this time of fluctuating finances, pawning his large gold
medal from Paris one day, lending five hundred pounds to the
British Artists the next. He often found ' a long face and a short
account at the bank,' as he said one day."
He did everything he could to broaden the scope and increase
the prestige of the Society. All that was " charming " was
to be encouraged, all that was tedious Was to be done away
with. He secured distinguished artists as members : Charles
Keene, Alfred Stevens, and the more promising among the
younger men. He allowed several to call themselves in the
catalogue " pupils of Whistler," and to make drawings
of the gallery, and of his pictures, which he had first made
himself, for the illustrated papers. The curious will find
sketches by him of the Sarasate in the Pall MalVs Pictures
of 1885, and of the Harmony in Blue and Gold, as well as
1886] 63
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
of his exhibition at Dowdeswell's gallery, in Pictures of
1886. But Mr. Theodore Roussel, Mr. Walter Sickert, Mr.
Sidney Starr now signed these drawings for reproduction.
He did his best for the Art Unions organised by the Society,
giving a plate, The Fish Shop — Busy Chelsea one year, and
another, a little picture done at St. Ives. Whistler's greatest
exertions were devoted to the improvement of the exhibitions.
In the March meeting (1887) he proposed a limit of size for all
the exhibits, he contributed twenty pounds towards a further
scheme of decoration, and he presented four velvet curtains
for the doorways in the large room. There is a drawing,
showing curtains and velarium by Mr. Roussel in the Pall
Mall's Pictures of 1887. All Whistler's finest work was
again reserved for the gallery in Suffolk Street. His early
pictures, Nocturne in Blue and Gold, Valparaiso Bay; Noc-
turne in Black and Gold, The Gardens (Cremorne) ; Harmony
in Grey, Chelsea in Ice, were hung that year, and with them
one of his latest, Arrangement in Violet and Pink, Portrait of
Mrs. Walter Sickert.
To those in opposition, the President's innovations seemed
an interference with their rights. He might pay their debts,
— that was one thing ; it was quite another to make their
gallery beautiful with the beauty to which serious papers like
the Portfolio, applied the old adjective " eccentric," and to
" chuck out " their pictures. Their resentment increased
on the occasion of a visit from the Prince of Wales. Whistler
stayed late one night in Suffolk Street, to finish the work
of decoration. When the members came the next day,
doors and mantelpieces were painted primrose yellow. There
was grumbling, and the dissatisfaction was carried that evening
to a Smoking Concert at the Hogarth Club, where everybody
was talking of the arrangement in yellow. Whistler, when
they ventured to find fault with him, refused to have anything
further to do with the decorations, though these were still
64 [1887
THE BRITISH ARTISTS— THE FALL
unfinished. He was telegraphed for. " So discreet of you
all at the Hogarth," was the answer, and he did not appear
until it was time to meet the Prince, though dissatisfied
members worked to tone down the yellows, to the very
moment of the Prince's arrival. Whistler told us :
" I went downstairs to meet the Prince. As we were walking
up, I a little in front with the Princess, the Prince, who always
liked to be well informed in these matters, asked what the
Society was ? — was it an old institution ? What was its history ?
' Sir, it has none, its history begins to-day ! ' I said."
The dissatisfaction was carried promptly to a meeting, when
a proposition was made and passed " that the experiment of
hanging pictures in an isolated manner be discontinued,''
and that, in future, enough works be accepted to cover the
vacant space above and below the line — in fact, that the
gallery be hung as before. It is said that some members
went so far as to make an estimate of the amount of wall
space left bare, and calculate the exact loss it meant in
pounds, shillings and pence.
We saw this exhibition, though we did not see Whistler.
We remember the quiet, well-spaced walls, and the portrait
of Mrs. Sickert, also works by Dannat and William Stott.
Jt should not be forgotten that the British Artists' was
arranged and hung by Whistler years before there was any
idea of artistic hanging in German Secessions, — we believe
before there were any Secessions. Whistler had applied to
iis own shows the same method of spacing and hanging and
decorating the walls with an appropriate colour scheme. It
had occurred to nobody before him that beautiful things
should be shown to the public beautifully and it is not too
much to say that the attention given to-day to the artistic
arrangement of picture exhibitions is due entirely to Whistler.
1887 was Queen Victoria's Jubilee year, and every Society
of artists prepared addresses of congratulation to her Majesty.
1887] ii :E 65
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Whistler could not permit his Society to appear less cere-
moniously loyal than the rest. His account to us of his
conduct at this official moment is interesting :
" Well, you know, I found that the Academy and the Institute
and the rest of them were preparing addresses to the Queen, and
so I went to work too, and I prepared a most wonderful address.
Instead of the illuminated performances for such occasions, I
took a dozen folio sheets of my old Dutch etching paper.
I had them bound by Zaehnsdorf. First, came the beautiful
binding in yellow morocco and the inscription to Her Majesty,
every word just in the right place, — most wonderful. You
opened it, and on the first page you found a beautiful little
drawing of the royal arms that I had made myself ; the second
page, with an etching of Windsor, as though — ' there's where
you live ! ' On the third page, the address began. I made
decorations all round the text in water-colour, at the top the
towers of Windsor, down one side a great battleship plunging
through the waves, and below, the sun that never sets on the
British Empire, — What ? — The following pages were not de-
corated, just the most wonderful address, explaining the age and
dignity of the Society, its devotion to Her Glorious, Gracious
Majesty, and suggesting the honour it would be if this could be
recognised by a title that would show the Society to belong specially
to Her. Then, the last page ; you turned, and there was a
little etching of my house at Chelsea — ' And now, here's where I
live ! ' And then you closed it, and at the back of the cover was
the Butterfly. This was all done and well on its way, and not a
word was said to the Society, when the Committee wrote and
asked me if I would come to a meeting as they wished to consult
me. It was about an address to Her Majesty — all the other
Societies were sending them — and they thought they should too.
I asked what they proposed spending — they were aghast when
I suggested that the guinea they mentioned might not meet a
twentieth of the cost. But, all the time, my beautiful address
was on its way to Windsor, and finally came the Queen's
acknowledgment and command that the Society should be called
Royal — I carried this to a meeting and it was stormy. One
member got up and protested against one thing and another,
and declared his intention of resigning. ' You had better make
66 [1887
THE BRITISH ARTISTS— THE FALL
a note of it, Mr. Secretary,' I said. And then I got up with
great solemnity, and I announced the honour conferred upon
them by Her Gracious Majesty, and they jumped up and they
rushed towards me with outstretched hands. But I waved them
all off, and I continued with the ceremonial to which they objected.
For the ceremonial was one of their grievances. They were
accustomed to meet in shirt-sleeves — free-and-easy fashion,
which I would not stand. Nor would I consent to what was the
rule and tradition of the Society : I would not, when I spoke,
step down from the chair and stand up in the body of the meeting,
but I remained always where I was. But, the meeting over, then
I sent for champagne."
Whistler, as President of the British Artists, was invited to
the Jubilee ceremonies in Westminster Abbey, and in Mr.
Lorimer's painting of that event he may be seen on one side
of the triforium, with Leighton on the other. He Was asked
also to the State garden-party at Buckingham Palace, and
to the Naval Review off Spithead, when he made the Jubilee
Series of etchings and at least one water-colour.
The year before, Mr. Ayerst Ingram had proposed that
the Society should give a show of the President's Work to
precede their Summer Exhibition of 1887. This had met with
so many objections that, though the motion Was not with-
drawn as Whistler desired, it was then allowed to drop.
After the new honours were obtained by him for the Society,
and while he was travelling in Belgium and Holland, an
effort was made by the few who were his friends to revive
the scheme. Mr. Ingram did what he could ; Mr. Walter
Dowdeswell was appointed Honorary Secretary ; guarantors
Were found, and the financial risk feared by the Society thus
disposed of ; owners of pictures were written to ; it was sug-
gested that the show should be held in February and March,
1888. But Whistler, doubting the sincerity of the Society,
would not run the risk of anything less than an " absolute
triumph of perfection" for an undertaking made in the
1888] 67
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
name of the British artists, or his own. He objected to the
no success that is worse than failure. At the end of Sep-
tember, nothing definite had been arranged, and Whistler
told Mr. Ingram, that his " solitary evidence of active interest
could hardly bring about a result sufficient to excuse such an
eleventh hour effort."
He was right. The opposition in the Society was strong, and
many members were now in open Warfare with the President.
They refused to support him in his proposition that no member
of the Society should be, or should remain, a member of any
other Society ; and when he followed this with the proposition
that no member of the Royal Society of British Artists, who
was a member of any other Society, should serve on the Select-
ing or Hanging Committee, they again defeated him. Nor did
they persuade him to reconsider the formal withdrawal, on
November 18, of his permission to show his works. He
sent, however, in the ordinary way, several Watercolours
and the twelve etchings of the Naval Review to the Winter
Exhibition (1887-88), and also four lithographs from the
Notes published that autumn by the Goupils. They were
described by the Magazine of Art (December 1887), as
mere " ' Notes ' reproduced in marvellous facsimile," which
gave Whistler his chance for another courteous reminder in
the World to " the bewildered one." The critic might inquire,
he suggested : " the safe and well-conducted one informs
himself." Within the Society, he had once more to contend
against the objections to his hanging and spacing, and a
fresh grievance this winter was that some of the now limited
space was filled with the work of Monet, as yet hardly known
in England. Few agreed with one of the older members,
who, when he looked at Whistler's Red Note, declared, " If
he can do that, I'll forgive him — he can do anything." The
general opinion was that " Whistler would have his way, and
didn't mind if he made enemies in getting it," and it began to
68 [1888
THE BRITISH ARTISTS— THE FALL
be whispered that even in the matter of the memorial, he had
been dictatorial. The situation is best described in the words
of Mr. Holmes to us : " With a little more of Disraeli and a
little less of Oliver Cromwell, Whistler would have triumphed."
The crisis came in April 1888, just before the Summer Ex-
hibition. It was suggested that the Council be asked to
communicate with the President as to the removal of temporary
decorations which he had designed and they had paid for.
Whistler was indignant. He had worked over the affairs of
the Society as though they were his own ; he had used every
endeavour to restore its fortunes and give its shows distinction.
In return, members only hindered him. It was not his habit
to draw a veil of reserve over his indignation, and he ex-
pressed it vigorously. One decoration the Society did not
object to was a velarium, since it meant no loss of wall space,
and, when Whistler removed his, they ordered a new one.
Whistler, through his Secretary, explained to the Committee
that the velarium was his patent — " a patent taken out by
the Greeks and Romans," is Mr. Ingram's comment. We
have been told by a British Artist that Whistler got out an
injunction, that when the Committee, with their order for
the velarium, hurried to Hampton's, his Secretary was at
their heels in a hansom with the injunction, that they
arrived at Liberty's together, but that, somehow, they
managed in the end to evade him. A velarium was made and
put up, and they at once proceeded to get rid of their Presi-
dent. At a meeting on May 7, a letter signed by eight
members, whose names do not appear in the Minutes, was
read, asking the President to call a meeting to request Mr.
James A. McNeill Whistler to resign his membership in the
Society, and Whistler, as President, called the meeting and
signed the Minutes. One of the eight has told us that he en-
dorsed the letter because he knew what was sure to follow, and
he wanted to spare Whistler a worse unpleasantness. The
1888] 69
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
President made a speech, in which he claimed that his action,
in the matter of the velarium, was not inimical to the welfare of
the Society, but the speech was not recorded. He permitted
no one else to speak in opposition, and the subject was dropped.
At the Special Meeting called by him the same month,
there was a more exhaustive discussion. Whistler declared
his position. His opponents presented an array of lawyers'
letters, which, they said, showed that Whistler had threatened
injunctions, had greatly impeded the Executive in the
decoration of the galleries, and had influenced many dis-
tinguished people to keep away from the private view. A
vote was taken, virtually for his expulsion, though Mr.
Ingram proposed, in its place, a vote of censure. Whistler
refused at first to put the motion to expel himself, but,
finally, was compelled to do so. There were eighteen votes
for, nineteen against it, and nine members did not vote.
The votes, Whistler said, when he addressed the meeting after
the ballot, showed that the Society approved of his action.
Mr. Francis James at once proposed a vote of censure on those
gentlemen who had signed the letter, but this was not passed,
for the feeling against Whistler was, after all, very strong.
On June 4, at the annual election, when a whip had
been sent round to old members, Wyke Bayliss was elected
President in his place and Whistler tendered his resignation
as member, congratulating the Society on the election :
" Now, at last, you must be satisfied. You can no longer say
you have the right man in the wrong place ! "
Mr. Sidney Starr recalls his saying also :
"Now I understand the feelings of all those who, since the
world began, have tried to save their fellow men."
Almost all the minority resigned. Indeed, one member,
Mr. Menpes, foreseeing the inevitable, had resigned a month
earlier, a fact which led to Whistler's comment on " the early
70 [1888
THE BRITISH ARTISTS— THE FALL
rat who leaves the sinking ship." Keene, Alfred Stevens,
Theodore Roussel, all the more brilliant of the younger men,
who had joined the Society with him, left it with him, so that
he said afterwards, ** the Artists have come out, and the
British remain."
Mr. Menpes describes a supper of the " Artists," after the
meeting, at the Hogarth Club, Whistler in high spirits,
swinging a toy policeman's rattle to the measure of " Yankee
Doodle." Menpes was taken back into favour, and joined
the party. " What are you going to do with them all ? "
he asked Whistler. " Lose them," said Whistler. But he
did not lose them all, and a few of his faithful supporters
pride themselves on his friendship to the end.
According to the rules, Whistler was active President until
December, and until December he retained his post. He
was away in the summer of 1888, but he presided at a
meeting on November 11, and again on the 28th, when he
made a statement of his relations with the Society and his
objects and aims concerning it. After this, he gave up the
chair to Mr. Bayliss. He had been President for two years,
and a member for four. After November 28, 1888, his name
appears in the official records only on two occasions: first,
on January 4, 1889, in connection with a dispute over
the notice board outside the gallery ; and then on July 20,
1903, when Wyke Bayliss stated " that, acting on the feeling
that it would be the wish of the Society, he had ordered a
wreath to be sent in the name of the Society on the occasion
of the funeral of Mr. Whistler."
The papers were not so shy of the President's name as the
Minute Books. The differences between him and the Society
found the publicity which Whistler could never escape. He
said to the men who resigned with him, " Come and make
history for posterity," and, in his usual fashion, he saw that
the record was accurate. He had hardly left the Society
1888] 71
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
when the notice board, with the Butterfly and the lion which
he had repainted, was altered ; he immediately wrote a
letter to state the fact in the Pall Mall Gazette. Reporters
and interviewers gave the British Artists' reasons for their
late President's resignation and the qualifications for the post
of his successor ; Whistler lost no time in explaining his own
position and his estimate of the new President. It cannot
be said too often that his letters to the press, criticised as
trivial and undignified, were written deliberately that his
own version of " history " might " go down." Many pages of
The Gentle Art are filled with the details of his relations with
the British Artists. The gaiety of his letters was mistaken
for flippancy, because the more solemn and ponderous his
" enemies " became, the more " joyous " he invariably grew
in disposing of them. He did not spare the British Artists.
The Pall Mall undertook to describe the disaster of the
" Whistlerian policy " in Suffolk Street by Statistics and to
extol the strength of Wyke Bayliss :
" The sales of the Society during the year 1881 were under five
thousand pounds ; 1882, under six thousand ; 1883, under seven
thousand ; 1884, under eight thousand ; 1885 (the first year of
Mr. Whistler's rule), they fell to under four thousand ; 1886,
under three thousand ; 1887, under two thousand ; and, the
present year, 1888, under one thousand. . . . The new President
... is ... the hero of three Bond Street ' one-man exhibi-
tions,' a Board-school chairman, a lecturer, champion chess-
player of Surrey, a member of the Rochester Diocesan Council,
a Shakespearian student, a Fellow of the Society of Cyclists,
a Fellow of the Society of Antiquarians, and public orator of
Noviomagus."
Whistler's answer was characteristic, serious in intention,
light on the surface. It pointed out
"the, for once, not unamusing 'fact' that the disastrous and
simple Painter Whistler only took in hand the reins of govern-
ment at least a year after the former driver had been pitched
73 [1888
NOCTURNE, BAT TEE SEA
(Lithotint)
LIMEHOUSE
(Litlioti-iit)
THE BRITISH ARTIST S— T H E F A L L
from his box, and half the money-bags had been already lost !—
from eight thousand to four thousand at one fatal swoop ! and
the beginning of the end had set in !....' Four thousand
pounds ! ' down it went — three thousand pounds — two thousand
pounds — the figures are Wyke's — and this season, the ignominious
' one thousand pounds or under,' is none of my booking ! and
when last I saw the mad machine it was still cycling down the
hill."
Whistler was disappointed if he did not show it. He
joined the Society because he thought it an honour to have
been invited. He was seldom invited to join anything, but,
for that reason, he did not rush to accept the rare invita-
tion. He would have nothing to do with the Art Congress
started in the 'eighties, despite an effort to entangle him ; nor
would he do more than give his " benison," Mr. Walter Crane
says, to the movement in 1886 to organise a National Art
Exhibition, led by Mr. Crane, Mr. Holman Hunt, and Mr.
George Clausen. But the age and traditions of the British
Artists gave the Society dignity in his eyes. He who was
called the most selfish of men would make any sacrifice for
art, and, at the price of his time and energy, during his four
years in Suffolk Street, he dragged the Society out of the
slough in which it was floundering and made its exhibitions
the most distinguished and most talked-about in London.
Wyke Bayliss, who never understood him, wrote in Olives :
" Whistler's purpose was to make the British Artists a small,
esoteric set, mine was to make it a great guild of the working
artists of this country."
But Whistler said :
" I wanted to make the British Artists an art centre, they
wanted to remain a shop."
If his word were not evidence enough, his earnestness in
the policy he advocated would be proved by his adherence to
it. Ten years later, as President of the International Society
1888] 73
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
of Sculptors, Painters and Gravers, he not only recom-
mended but enforced the same measures : the decoration
of the galleries, the refusal of bad work no matter who
sent it, the proper hanging of the pictures accepted, the
making of the exhibitions into real artistic events, the
interesting of the public in them, the insistence that each
artist should support his own Society's exhibitions only
and should not be a member of any other Society. He
may have been dictatorial, but without a leader nothing can
be accomplished and at the British Artists' each British
Artist wanted to lead. His Presidency began in mistrust
and ended, as was inevitable, in discord and disappointment.
For Whistler it had an indirect advantage in that the public,
especially abroad — out of respect for the ancient institution
he presided over — regarded him and his work henceforth
with greater deference.
74 [1888
CHAPTER XXXI. MARRIAGE. THE YEAR
EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-EIGHT
BEFORE Whistler left the British Artists he married
Beatrix Godwin, widow of E. W. Godwin, the architect
of the White House, and for years Whistler's strongest
defender in the press. Godwin died October 6, 1886, and
Whistler married on August 11, 1888.
Mrs. Whistler was the daughter of John Birnie Philip, now
remembered as one of the sculptors who worked on the Albert
Memorial. She was large, so that Whistler looked almost
dwarfed beside her, dark and handsome, more foreign in
appearance than English. Whistler delighted in a tradition
that there was gypsy blood in her family. She had studied
art in Paris, and he was proud of her as a talented pupil. Her
work included several decorative designs and a series of
etched plates, made to illustrate the English edition of Van
Eeden's Little Johannes, a fantastic tale of an elfen world full
of strange beings. Only a few of the plates were finished, and
of these some proofs were shown in the first exhibition of the
International Society, and in the Paris Memorial Exhibition.
Mr. Labouchere holds himself responsible for the marriage,
and told the story of how it came about in Truth (July 28,
1903) :
" I believe that I am responsible for his marriage to the
widow of Mr. Godwin, the architect. She was a remarkably
pretty woman, and very agreeable, and both she and he were
thorough Bohemians. I was dining with them and some others
one evening at Earl's Court. They were obviously greatly
attracted to each other, and in a vague sort of way they thought
1888] 75
JAMESMcNEILL WHISTLER
of marrying. So I took the matter in hand to bring things to a
practical point. ' Jemmy,' I said, ' will you marry Mrs. Godwin ? '
— ' Certainly,' he replied. — ' Mrs. Godwin,' I said, ' will you
marry Jemmy ? ' — ' Certainly,' she replied. — ' When ? ' I asked. —
' Oh, some day,' said Whistler. — ' That won't do,' I said ; * we
must have a date.' So they both agreed that I should choose
the day, what church to come to for the ceremony, provide the
clergyman, and give the bride away. I fixed an early date, and
got the then Chaplain of the House of Commons [the Rev. Mr.
Byng] to perform the ceremony. It took place a few days
later.
" After the ceremony was over, we adjourned to Whistler's
studio, where he had prepared a banquet. The banquet was on
the table, but there were no chairs. So we sat on packing-cases,
The happy pair, when I left, had not quite decided whether they
would go that evening to Paris, or remain in the studio. How
unpractical they were was shown when I happened to meet the
bride the day before the marriage in the street :
" ' Don't forget to-morrow,' I said. — ' No,' she replied, ' I am
just going to buy my trousseau.' — ' A little late for that, is it not ? '
I asked. — ' No,' she answered, ' for I am only going to buy a new
toothbrush and a new sponge, as one ought to have new ones when
one marries.' "
The wedding took place at St. Mary Abbott's, Kensington,
in the presence of Dr. and Mrs. Whistler, one of Mrs. Godwin's
sisters and three or four friends. Mr. Labouchere gave the
bride away and Mr. Jopling-Rowe was best man. Whistler
had recently left 454 Fulham Road and the Vale, with its
memories of " Maud," who was at that time in Paris, for the
Tower House, Tite Street, and the suddenness of his marriage
gave no time to put things in order. There were not only
packing-cases in the dining-room — usually one of the first
rooms furnished in every house he moved into — but the
household was in most other respects unprepared for the
reception of a bride. The wedding breakfast was ordered
from the Caf6 Royal, and the bride's sister hurriedly got a
wedding cake from Buszard's.
76 [1888
74 CHEYNE WALK, CHELSEA
TOWER HOUSE, TITE STREET, CHELSEA
21 CHEYNE WALK, CHELSEA
MARRIAGE
The rest of the summer and autumn was spent in France,
part of the time in Boulogne. Mr. and Mrs. Cole
" met Jimmy and his wife on the sands ; they came up with us
to Rue de la Paix — down to bathe — Jimmy sketching on sands ;
the W.s turned up after lunch. With Jimmy to the iron and
rag marchi near Boulevard Prince Albert [no doubt in search of
old paper, as well as of subjects] — he sketched (water-colours) a
dingy shop. Later we dined with them at the Casino — Pleasant
parti & quatre — Jimmy in excellent form. Leaving to-morrow."
From Boulogne they went on to Touraine, stopping on the
way at Chartres, most of the time lost to their friends as they
intended to be lost. It was Whistler's first real holiday. He
was taking it lazily, he wrote home, in straw hat and white
shoes, rejoicing in the grapes and melons, getting the pleasure
out of it that France always gave him. But he got more than
pleasure. He brought back to London about thirty beautiful
little plates of Tours and Loches and Bourges, and settled
down in London to wind up his connection with the British
Artists.
Whistler was devoted to his wife who, henceforth, occupied
a far more prominent position in his life than his friends
could have anticipated. Indeed, the course of his life was
entirely changed by his marriage. He saw little of his former
friends in London, and less even of society. For months he
was a wanderer, and these months were barren of important
work. Not that Mrs. Whistler was indifferent to his art or
stood in its way. She was sympathetic, helpful, interested,
and intelligent. He liked to have her in the studio with him ;
when she could not come, he brought the pictures he was
painting home for her to see. He worked consciously with
her critical eye upon him. He consulted her in his diffi-
culties, he looked to her to rejoice with him in his triumphs,
and she shared only too willingly the disappointment in-
1888] 77
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
evitable in the career of the creative artist. But it cannot
be denied that for him the period of great schemes and their
successful completion came to an end with his marriage.
Although in later years he produced pictures exquisite in
their accomplishment, we look in vain for large canvases like
The Mother and Carlyle, the Sarasate and Lady Meux. This
was no doubt the result partly of his pleasure in his new
domestic conditions, and partly of circumstances that pre-
vented him from remaining long enough in any one place for
continuous work to be possible. An artist must be able to
devote himself without interruption to his great schemes, or
else must have a very different temperament from Whistler's.
After a year or so in London and two or three happy years
in Paris which Mrs. Whistler always said she did not deserve,
her health necessitated wandering again.
Commissions at last began to come to Whistler as they
never had before, and his new interests and eventually the
care and sorrow of Mrs. Whistler's fatal illness left him neither
the time nor the freedom for them. As he said to us one day :
" Now, they want these things — why didn't they want them
twenty years ago, when I wanted to do them, and could have
done them ? — and they were just as good twenty years ago as
they are now."
Few of the large portraits begun during these years were
completed. And even after his wife's death, he struggled
in vain to return to the old conditions and regain with them
the power of uninterrupted application to which the world
owes his greatest masterpieces. It is true that his work
never deteriorated, that, as he said himself, he brought it
ever nearer to the perfection which alone could satisfy him.
He never produced anything finer than The Master Smith
and The Little Rose of Lyme Regis painted toward the end of
his married life, or His Reverence and the series of children's
heads of his last years. But these were planned on a smaller
78 [1888
MARRIAGE
scale and required less continuity of effort than the large
full-lengths and the decorative designs he longed to execute
but was never able to finish, sometimes not even to begin.
As will be seen later on, Whistler, with advancing years,
became more and more sure of himself, more and more the
master of his materials but circumstances forced him to find
his pleasure and exercise his greater knowledge in the pro-
duction of smaller work.
1888] 79
CHAPTER XXXII. WORK. THE YEARS
EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-FOUR TO EIGHTEEN
NINETY
THE years of the Ten o' Clock and the British Artists and the
first one or two of Whistler's married life were very
prolific, though comparatively few important pictures belong
to them. He devoted more time than ever to water-colour and
pastel, to etching and lithography. He was continually
going and coming, making little journeys in England or on
the Continent, especially in Belgium and Holland, and he
had boxes and bags with compartments and arrangements
for his colours, his plates, his lithographic materials. These
he took with him everywhere, and it is impossible to say — he
did not know himself — the exact number of small works in
oil, water-colour and pastel that he produced during these
years.
He had always used the medium of water-colour since his
schooldays, but, until he went to Venice, not to any extent.
Some of the Venetian drawings show that he then was not
really master of it. But as soon as he took it up seriously,
the results he got, both in figure and landscape, were admirable.
He touched perfection in many a little angry sea at Dieppe,
or note in Holland, or impression in Paris, but as not many
are dated, we cannot learn from them when he reached the
mastery in the art of water-colour painting which they reveal.
He probably would not have been sure of the dates himself.
We have gone through drawers in his studio with him, when
he expressed the utmost surprise on finding certain things, as
80 [1884-90
1 i
;
THE BEACH
(Water- Colour)
WORK
he had forgotten them and also when and where they were
painted or drawn. He suffered from the confusion and
realised the importance of making a complete list of his
works, with their dates, and there were various projects and
commencements. After several attempts, he found it took
too much of his time. We know that he asked Mr. Freer to
trace, for this purpose, his pictures in America, and Mr. D.
Croal Thomson to do him the same service in England.
There is no such difficulty with the etchings, and probably
the great Grolier Club Catalogue, which is announced for
publication, will clear up all remaining doubts. Between
Whistler's return from Venice, in 1880, and his going to
Paris in 1892, there is already the record of ninety plates
in England. They begin with the Regent's Quadrant, which
we know was done almost at once, while he was living in Air
Street, and of which a signed proof once was brought to us by
his landlady, who called it an original drawing, and said it
had been made out of her window. Then follow plates of
little shops in Chelsea, Gray's Inn, Westminster, the Wild West
at Earl's Court, Whitechapel, Sandwich, the Jubilee in the
Abbey and many figure-subjects. There is also the Swan and
Iris, the copy of an unfinished picture by Cecil Lawson, for
Mr. Edmund Gosse's Memoir of the painter (1883). It was the
only plate, since those published by the Junior Etching Club,
which he made as an illustration. La Marchande de Moutarde,
in its second state, was issued in English Etchings (1888)
and Billingsgate in the Portfolio (1878), but they had been
etched long before, with no idea of illustration or publication
in book or magazine.
The London plates are mostly simple in subject, and they
have been therefore frequently dismissed as unimportant.
But many are most delightfully composed, while the detail
in the little figures is full of observation. The subjects
show that they were rapidly done. Whistler, carrying the
1884-90] ii :F 81
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
small plates about with him, sketched the subjects he
found on copper as other artists sketch on paper. Three
were made at Buffalo Bill's Wild West probably in an after-
noon ; one in Westminster Abbey, during Queen Victoria's
Jubilee (1887) celebration ; and the whole set of ten during
the Naval Review, with a plate at Tilbury, on his embarking,
and another at Portsmouth on landing. The prints of this
Series, as we know the exact space of time in which they were
done, prove strikingly his wonderful power of giving a
momentary impression in a few lines on a piece of copper, for
they suggest, in extraordinary fashion, the picturesque aspect
of the great naval spectacle.
In the autumn of 1887 he went to Belgium with Dr. and
Mrs. William Whistler, stopping at Brussels, Ostend, and
Bruges. In Brussels he etched the Grande Place, the Town
Hall, the palaces, the little shops and streets and courts, with
the intention, never fulfilled, of issuing them as another Set.
M. Octave Maus, who knew him, says,
" he was enchanted there with the picturesque and disreputable
quarter of les Marolles in the old town. He was frequently to be
met in the alleys which pour a squalid populace into the old High
Street, engaged in scratching on the copper his impressions of
the swarming life around him. When the inquisitive throng
pressed him too hard, the artist merely pointed his graver at the
arm, or neck, or cheek of one of the intruders. The threatening
weapon, with his sharp, spiteful laugh, put them at once to
flight."
Sometimes, Dr. and Mrs. Whistler found him, safe out of the
way of the crowd, in the bandstand of the Grande Place,
where three of the most beautiful of the series were done.
These studies mark another development in his technique.
With the fewest, the most delicate, lines he expressed the
most complicated and the most picturesque architecture.
They were probably bitten with very little stopping-out, and
«2 ' [1884-90
WORK
they are printed with a sharpness that shows, and does not
conceal, their wonderful drawing. M. Duret has said to us
that, in them, Whistler has given the bones, the skeleton, of
the architecture. As was the case with all the plates of these
years, except the Dutch, few proofs were ever pulled.
The etchings in Touraine, to group the plates of the summer
of 1888 together, though they were not all done in Touraine,
have never been published as a Set. They include plates
made at Tours, Loches, Vov£s, Bourges, Amboise, and Blois,
and two or three views of chateaux it is difficult to identify.
As in Belgium, again great architecture gave him his principal
subjects, and again his simplicity of treatment shows that if,
as a rule, he refrained from the rendering of architecture, it
was from no desire of evading difficulties of drawing, as his
critics have been over-ready to suggest. The line is stronger,
and the biting much more powerful, than in the Belgian
plates.
The year after his marriage and the summer in Touraine,
he went to Holland, where he made seventeen plates in and
around Dordrecht and Amsterdam, producing the wonderful
Nocturne: Dance House, The Embroidered Curtain, The
Balcony, the Zaandam in which he surpassed Rembrandt
in Rembrandt's own subjects. His success is the more
surprising because scarcely anywhere does the artist work
under such difficulties as in Holland. The little Dutch
boys are the worst in the world, and the grown people can be
as bad. In Amsterdam, the women in the houses on one of
the canals, where Whistler sat in a boat working, objected,
and emptied basins of water out of the windows above him.
He only managed to dodge them just in time, and he had to
call on the police, when, he told us, the next interruption was
a big row above him, and
" I looked up, dodging the filthy pails to see the women vanish-
ing backward, being carried off to wherever they carry people
1884-90] 83
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
in Holland. After that, I had no more trouble, but I always had
a policeman whenever I had a boat."
In the Dutch plates he returned more to the methods
perfected at Venice in The Traghetto and The Beggars. After
he brought the work back to London, he was interviewed on
the subject for the Pall Mall Gazette (March 4, 1890), and is
reported to have said :
" First you see me at work on the Thames (producing one of
the famous series). Now, there you see the crude and hard detail
of the beginner. So far, so good. There, you see, all is sacrificed
to exactitude of outline. Presently, and almost unconsciously, I
begin to criticise myself, and to feel the craving of the artist for
form and colour. The result was the second stage, which my
enemies call inchoate, and I call Impressionism. The third stage
I have shown you. In that I have endeavoured to combine
stages one and two. You have the elaboration of the first stage,
and the quality of the second."
Though we hesitate to accept the words throughout as his,
this is still an interesting statement inspired by him of his
development as an etcher, and a suggestive description of his
aims in the Dutch series. For you find in some of the plates
more detail than he gave in the Venetian, and yet form is
expressed not in the outline of the London prints, but in the
broken line of the work that followed, and you see, as you
really would in looking at Nature, the effect of a landscape,
or a house, as a whole and not in its intricate and subordinate
parts. You see it also with a richness of colour that etchers
have seldom obtained without a mass of cross-hatching that
takes away from the spontaneity and freshness of the im-
pression. It is curious to contrast the distant views of the
town of Amsterdam and the windmills of Zaandam with
Rembrandt's etchings of similar subjects, and to note the
greater feeling of space and distance that Whistler gives by
his simplification of the foreground and his sacrifice of certain
84 [1884-90
THE FUR JACKET
Arrangement in Black and Bron-n
WORK
facts, so that he might render on his copper the appearance,
the aspect, which the actual scene presented to his eyes. The
work is more elaborate and delicate than in any previous plates,
so delicate sometimes that it seems underbitten. But the
method necessitated this. He drew with such minuteness
that hardly any of the ground, the varnish, is left on the plates,
and when he bit them, he could only bite very slightly to
prevent the delicate modelling from being lost. He never
had been so successful in applying his scientific theories to
etching, and rarely more satisfied with the results. His first
idea was to publish the prints, like the two Venetian series
in a Sett through the Fine Art Society, but nothing came of
it. A few were bought at once for the South Kensington and
Windsor Collections, and several were shown that spring in
Mr. Dunthorne's gallery. About this time, we returned for a
few months to London and J. commenced to write occasionally
in the London press, succeeding Mr. George Bernard Shaw
as art critic on the Star. This is his impression, written when
he saw them then :
"I stepped in at Dunthorne's the other afternoon, to have a
look at the etchings of Amsterdam by Mr. Whistler. There are
only eight of them, I think, but they are eight of the most exquisite
renderings by the most independent man of the century. With two
exceptions they are only studies of very undesirable lodgings and
tenements on canal banks, old crumbling brick houses reflected in
sluggish canals, balconies with figures leaning over them, clothes
hanging in decorative lines, a marvellously graceful figure care-
lessly standing in the great water-door of an overhanging house,
every figure filled with life and movement, and all its character
expressed in half a dozen lines. The same houses, or others, at
night, their windows illuminated and casting long trailing
reflections in the water, seemed to be singularly unsuccessful, the
plate being apparently under-bitten and played out. At any rate,
that was the impression it produced on me. [We know now and
have explained the reason for this.] Another there was, of a
stretch of country looking across a canal, windmills beyond,
1884-90] 85
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
drawn as no one since Rembrandt could have done it, and in his
plate the greatest of modern etchers has pitted himself against the
greatest of the ancients, and has come through only too success-
fully for Rembrandt. There are three or four others, I understand
not yet published ; but this, certainly is the gem so far. The
last is a great drawbridge, with suggestions of trees and houses,
figures and boats, and a tower in the distance, done, I believe,
from a canal in Amsterdam. This is the fourth distinct series of
etchings, which Mr. Whistler has in the last thirty or thirty-five
years given the world ; the early miscellaneous French and
English plates ; the Thames series, valued by artists more than
by collectors, though even to the latter they are worth more than
their weight in gold ; the Venetian plates ; and now these ; and
between while, portraits as full of character as Rembrandt's,
studies of London and Brussels, and I know not what else besides
have come from his ever busy needle. Had Mr. Whistler never
put brush to canvas, he has done enough in these plates to be
able to say that he will not altogether die."
This is very youthful, but it expressed J.'s opinion when
we hardly knew Whistler personally ; we never heard that
he disapproved of it ; and we are glad to resurrect it
to-day.
During this period, he produced also a large number of
lithographs, excellently catalogued by Mr. T. R. Way, who
printed most of them for him, and was, consequently, well
qualified for the task. Three, The Winged Hat, The Tyre-
smith, and Maunders Fish Shop, Chelsea, were published in
1890 in a shortlived periodical called The Whirlwind, edited
by Mr. Herbert Vivian and the Hon. Stuart Erskine, " in the
Legitimist cause " and to their own great amusement. They
also published drawings by Mr. Sidney Starr after three of
Whistler's pictures, and were at pains to boast in their own
pages within a few weeks that the lithographs, issued for a
penny, could be had only for five shillings. Five guineas
would now be nearer the price.
Another lithograph, Chelsea Rags, came out in the January
86 [1884-90
NUDE FIGURE AND CUPID
( Wuter-Cttlour)
WORK
number (1892) of the AUbemark, a monthly edited by Hubert
Crackanthorpe, and W. H. Wilkins, one of those gay ex-
periments hi periodical literature no longer made. The four
appeared as Songs on Stone, the title proposed for a portfolio
of lithographs in colour which Mr. Heinemann announced,
but which never got beyond some experimenal sketches and
proofs.
1884-90] 87
CHAPTER XXXIII. HONOURS— EXHIBI-
TIONS—NEW INTERESTS. THE YEARS
EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-NINE TO EIGHTEEN
NINETY
THE official recognition of Whistler in England was
followed by official honours from abroad. While he
was still President of the British Artists, he was asked for
the first time to show in the International Exhibition at
Munich (1888). He sent his Lady Archibald Campbell and
was awarded a second-class medal. The best comment on
the quality of the award was Whistler's letter of acknowledg-
ment, in which he sent the Committee his " sentiments of
tempered and respectable joy " and " complete appreciation
of the second-hand compliment." Munich made amends.
He was promptly elected an Honorary Member of the Bavarian
Royal Academy, and, a year later, was given a first-class
medal and the Cross of St. Michael, Almost at the same
moment the French Government appointed him Chevalier of
the Legion of Honour and he received a first-class medal
at the Paris Universal Exhibition. Another gold medal
this same year (1889) came from Amsterdam. The year
before, Mr. E. J. Van Wisselingh had bought from Messrs.
Dowdeswell Effie Deans, which he had seen in the Edinburgh
Exhibition of 1886, though it was there skied out of almost
everybody's sight. He sold it, within a very short time, to
Baron Van Lynden, of The Hague, then making the fine
collection bequeathed by the Baroness Van Lynden in 1900
to the Rijks Museum at Amsterdam. The picture is the only
88 [1889
EFFIE DEANS
HONOURS, EXHIBITIONS, ETC.
one to which Whistler gave a literary title, except the lovely
Annabel Lee, never exhibited, of which there is a pastel in
existence just as beautiful, once in the possession of Mr.
Thomas Way, now in that of Mr. Freer. Effle Deans is ap-
parently a portrait of " Maud," and it belongs to the period
of The Fur Jacket and the Rosa Corder. The Butterfly was
added later. The picture was not signed when bought by
Baron Van Lynden, who, hearing from Van Wisselingh, that
Whistler was in Holland, asked him to sign it. He not only
did so, but we believe then added the quotation from the
Heart of Midlothian, written at the bottom of the canvas :
" She sunk her head upon her hand and remained seemingly
unconscious as a statue," the only inscription of the kind on
any of his paintings that we have ever seen. The picture was
sent to the exhibition of 1889 in Amsterdam, where the
Mother and The Fur Jacket were hung with it. We have
heard that Israels and Mesdag, who were little in sympathy
with Whistler, objected to a medal being given to him, but
James Maris insisted.
Few things ever pleased Whistler more than the honours
from Amsterdam, Munich, and Paris. To celebrate the
Bavarian medal and decoration, his friends gave him a
" complimentary dinner," at the Criterion on May 1,
1889. Mr. E. M. Underdown, Q.C., was in the chair. Two
Royal Academicians, Sir W. Q. Orchardson, whose work
Whistler admired, and Mr. Alfred Gilbert, a friend then and
ever, were present, and also Sir Coutts Lindsay, Stuart
Wortley, Edmund Yates — Atlas, who never failed him —
among many others. Whistler was moved, and not ashamed to
show it. Stuart Wortley, in a speech, said that Whistler had
influenced every artist in England ; Sir W. Q. Orchardson
described him as "a true artist ; " and, this time, Atlas spoke,
not only with the weight of the World on his shoulders, but
with praise and affection. Whistler began with a laugh at
1889] 89
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
this " age of rapid results when remedies insist upon their
diseases." But his voice is said to have been full of emotion
before the end :
" You must feel that, for me, it is no easy task to reply under
conditions of which I have so little habit. We are all even too
conscious that mine has hitherto, I fear, been the gentle answer
that sometimes turneth not away wrath It has before
now been borne in upon me that in surroundings of antagonism, I
may have wrapped myself, for protection, in a species of mis-
understanding— as that other traveller drew closer about him the
folds of his cloak the more bitterly the winds and the storm
assailed him on his way. But, as with him, when the sun shone
upon him in his path, his cloak fell from his shoulders, so I, in
the warm glow of your friendship, throw from me all former dis-
guise, and, making no further attempt to hide my true feeling,
disclose to you my deep emotion at such unwonted testimony of
affection and faith."
This was the only public testimonial he ever received in
England, and one of the few public functions at which he
assisted. He seldom attended public dinners, those solemn
feasts of funeral baked meats by which " the Islander soothes
his conscience and purchases public approval." We remember
that he did not appear at the first dinner of the Society of
Authors, where his place was beside ours — a dinner given to
American authors, at which Lowell presided. He rarely,
if ever, was seen in the City, and rarely was asked in Paris.
As an outsider, he was never invited to the Academy.
Even little private functions, like the Johnson Club, to
which J. has taken him, he did not care for. We know how
easy it is to be bored, how difficult to be amused, on all such
occasions. He preferred not to run the risk.
Of the gentle answer that turneth not away wrath, 1889
was full of examples. At the Universal Exhibition in Paris,
Whistler, an American, naturally proposed to show with
Americans. Lady Archibald Campbell and The Balcony
90 [1889
LITHOGRAPH
HONOURS, EXHIBITIONS, ETC.
were the pictures he selected ; he sent twenty-seven etchings,
knowing that, in a big exhibition, a few prints make no effect.
The first official acknowledgment was a printed notice from
General Rush C. Hawkins, " Cavalry Officer," Commissioner
for the American Art Department :
" Sir, — Ten of your exhibits have not received the approval of
the jury. Will you kindly remove them ? "
Whistler's answer was an immediate journey to Paris, a
call on General Hawkins, the peremptory withdrawal of all
his prints and pictures, to the General's embarrassment.
Whistler wrote afterwards to the New York Herald, the
Paris Edition :
" Had I been properly advised that the room was less than the
demand for place, I would, of course, have instantly begged the
gentlemen of the jury to choose, from among the number, what
etchings they pleased."
Twenty-seven etchings, unless specially invited, were rather a
large number to send to any exhibition where space is limited.
He had been already asked to contribute to the British
Section, and to it he now took the two pictures and some of
the prints. Though General Hawkins' action is as incom-
prehensible as his appointment to such a post, Whistler made
a mistake. There is no doubt that, had his seventeen
accepted prints remained in the American Section, he would
have had a much better show than in the English, where,
for etching Seymour Haden, and not Whistler, carried off the
honours.
" Whistler's Grievance " got into the papers. He ex-
plained the situation in the Pall Matt at the time — April
27, 1899. Months after, the subject was revived. An
interview with him was published in the Paris Edition of the
New York Herald, October 8, 1889. General Hawkins
answered by means of an interview for the next day's Herald-
1889 91
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Whistler wrote from Amsterdam. Letters and interviews
remain in The Gentle Art. Since his death, the affair has been
used as a reproach against him. He pretended to despise
the English, it is said, but in an International Exhibition,
before the whole world, he " preferred " to be represented in
the British Section. If in 1889 he identified himself with
the British, it was due solely to the discourtesy, as he con-
sidered it, of his countrymen. There was no denial of his own
nationality.
When Whistler left the British Artists, in 1888, there was
not a society in England with whom he had the right to exhibit.
The New Gallery had taken over the played-out traditions of
the Grosvenor, but he did not follow to Regent Street. His
Carlyle, several drawings, and many etchings went to the
Glasgow Exhibition that year, and he was well represented at
the first Pastel Exhibition at the Grosvenor. He was more
in sympathy with the New English Art Club than any other
group of artists. It was then in its first youth and enthu-
siasm, most of the younger men of promise or talent belonged,
and it might have accomplished great things, had its founders
carried out their original ambition. Whistler Was never a
member, but he sent a White Note and the etching of the
Grande Place, Brussels, to the exhibition in 1888, and Rose
and Red, a pastel, in 1889, when he was elected by the votes
of the exhibitors to the jury. To the infinite loss of the Club,
his connection with it then ceased. This same year (1889),
at the Institute of the Fine Arts at Glasgow, The Mother
strengthened the impression made by the Carlyle the year
before ; there was a show of his work at the College for
Working Women in Queen Square, London ; and a picture
difficult to identify, entitled The Grey Lady, was included in
an exhibition at the Art Institute, Chicago.
The show at Queen Square was remarkable. There had
not been anywhere such a representative collection of his
92 [1889
ANNABEL LEE
(Pastel)
HONOURS, EXHIBITIONS, ETC.
work since his own exhibition of 1874. The Mother, Carlyle,
Rosa Corder, Irving were there, many pastels and water-
colours, and many etchings of all periods from the Thames
series to the last in Touraine and Belgium. We remember
how it impressed us when we came to the fine old Queen Anne
house in the quiet, out-of-the-way Square, how indignant we
were to find nobody there but one solitary man and the young
lady at the desk, and how urgently we wrote in the Star that,
if there were as many as half a dozen people who cared for
good work, they should go at once to see this exhibition of
" the man who has done more to influence artists than any
modern." There is a legend of Whistler's coming one day,
taking a picture from the wall, and walking off with it, despite
the protest of the attendant and the Principal of the College,
wishing, so the legend goes, to carry out the theory he was
soon to assert that pictures were " only kindly lent their
owners." But the story of his running off with it across the
Square, followed by the College staff screaming " Stop thief,"
and being nearly run in by a policeman, is a poor invention.
His desire, however, to keep his pictures in his own possession,
his hope that those who bought them would keep them,
was growing, and his disgust when they were sold, especially
if at increased prices, was well expressed in his answer to a
friend who said : " Staats Forbes tells me that that picture
of yours he has will be the last picture he will ever part with."
" H'm," said Whistler, who had had later news, " it is the
last picture he has."
In March 1890, Whistler moved to No. 21 Cheyne Walk,
a beautiful old house, with a garden at the back, further
down the Embankment than Lindsey Row, and close to
Rossetti's Tudor House. It was panelled from the street
door to the very top. A cool scheme of blue and white
decorated the dining-room, where there was always one
perfect painting over the mantel, and, Mr. Francis James
1890] 93
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
has told us, the Six Projects hung for a while on the walls.
The drawing-room on the first floor was turned into a
studio, there was a beautiful bedroom above, and the rest
of the house was empty and bare. M. Gerard Harry, who,
whenever in London at this period, saw much of Whistler,
writes us :
" Whistler was certainly a delightful man, besides being an
artistic genius. It always seemed to me that his lavish wit begat
wit all around him. To hear him was to drink sparkling cham-
pagne, and he lit others' brains with his own light. I remember
a striking remark of his, at a garden-party in his Chelsea house.
As he caught me observing some incompletely furnished rooms
and questioning within myself whether he had occupied the house
more than a fortnight or so : ' You see,' he said, with his short
laugh, ' I do not care for definitely settling down anywhere.
Where there is no more space for improvement, or dreaming about
improvement, where mystery is in perfect shape, it is finis — the
end — death. There is no hope, nor outlook left.' I do not vouch
for the words, but that was certainly the sense of a remark which
struck me as offering a key to much of Whistler's philosophy, and
to one aspect of his original art."
On September 24, 1890, Mr. Alan S. Cole, calling at
Cheyne Walk, " found him painting some excellent half and
quarter-length portraits — very strong and fine." What these
were, it is now difficult to say, though one probably was the
well-known Harmony in Black and Gold, Comte Robert de
Montesquiou-Fezensac, Whistler's fourth portrait of a man in
evening dress. Another may have been the second portrait
which was never finished, but which Montesquieu described
to Edmund de Goncourt, according to a note in his Journal
for July 7, 1891 :
" Montesquiou tells me that Whistler is now doing two portraits
of him : one is in evening dress, with a fur cloak under his arm,
the other in a great grey cloak with high collar, at his neck, just
suggested, a necktie of a mauve not to be put into words, though
his eyes express the ideal colour of it. And Montesquiou is most
94 [1890
HONOURS, EXHIBITIONS, ETC.
interesting to listen to as he explains the method of painting of
Whistler, to whom he gave seventeen sittings during a month
spent in London. The first sketching-in of his subject is with
Whistler a fury, a passion : one or two hours of this wild fever,
and the subject emerges, complete in its envelope. Then,
sittings, long sittings, when most of the time, the brush is brought
close to the canvas, but does not touch it, is thrown away, and
another taken, and sometimes in three hours, not more than
fifty touches are given to the canvas — every touch, according to
Whistler, lifting a veil from the sketch."
" Oh, sittings ! when it seemed to Montesquiou that Whistler,
by that intentness of observation, was draining from him his life,
something of his individuality, and, in the end, he was so exhausted,
that he felt as if all his being was shrinking away, but, happily, he
discovered a certain vin de coca that restored him after those
terrible sittings."
J. went only once to No. 21 Cheyne Walk. Then it was
to consult Whistler concerning Sir Hubert von Herkomer's
publication, An Idyl, in which photogravure reproductions
of pen-drawings were issued as etchings. Whistler received
J. in the white-panelled dining-room, where he was break-
fasting on an egg. He felt that the results of such a confusion
of terms might be serious to the etcher, he was indignant of
course, and he lent his support to W. E. Henley, who was
editing the National Observer and who had taken up the matter
in that paper. The excitement throughout was great, and the
newspaper discussion as lively as the reputation of Henley's
weekly. Whistler's interest never slackened. From this time
J. saw him oftener, meeting him in clubs, in galleries, in friend's
houses, or rooms, occasionally at Solferino's, the little res-
taurant in Rupert Street, which was for several years the
meeting-place, a club really, for the staff of the Scots, especially
after it was changed to the National, Observer. Nobody who
ever went there to lunch on press day at the Academy, or
the New English Art Club, or the New Gallery, is likely to
forget the talk round the table in the corner. Never have we
1890] 95
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
heard R. A. M. — " Bob " — Stevenson more brilliant, more
paradoxical, more inspiriting than at these mid-day gatherings.
Whistler's first encounter with Henley's paper, then edited
in Edinburgh, was a sharp skirmish, which, though he after-
wards became friendly with Henley, he never quite forgot
nor forgave. Henley was publishing a series of articles called
Modern Men, among whom he included Whistler, " the Yankee
with the methods of Barnum." The policy of the National
Observer was to fight, everybody, everything, and it must
be said that it fought with great spirit. But it had no patience
with the battles of others. Of Whistler the artist, it
approved, but not of Whistler the writer of letters, whom it
pronounced rowdy and unpleasant. " Malvolio-Macaire " was
the name for him it often repeated. At last, in noticing
Sheridan Ford's Gentle Art, of which we shall presently have
more to say, it continued in the same strain, and a copy of
the paper containing the review, " with proud mark, in the
blue pencil of office," was sent to Whistler. He answered
promptly with a laugh at " the thick thumb of your editorial
refinement " pointed " in depreciation of my choice rowdy-
ism." Two things came of the letter — one, amusing ; the
other, a better understanding. Whistler's answer finished
with a " regret that the ridiculous ' Romeike ' has not hitherto
sent me your agreeable literature." Romeike objected ; he
had sent eight hundred and seven clippings to Whistler : he
demanded an apology. Whistler gave it without hesitation :
he had never thought of Romeike as a person, and, he wrote,
" if it be not actionable, permit me to say that you really are
delightful ! ! " No one could appreciate the wit, the fun of
it all better than Henley, and he was the more eager to meet
Whistler. His account of the meeting, when it came about,
was coloured by the enthusiasm that made Henley the stimu-
lating person he was. " And we met," he would say, throwing
back his great head and laughing with joy, though he gave no
96 [1890
HONOURS, EXHIBITIONS, ETC.
details of the interview. Henley always managed to find
" the earnest of romance " in everything that happened to
him. " And there we were — Whistler and I — together 1 "
he would repeat, as if it were the most dramatic situation
ever imagined.
The bond between them was their love for the Thames.
Henley was the first to sing that special beauty of the river
which Whistler was the first to paint. He could see its loveli-
ness in the midsummer night when it was " a tangle of silver
gleams and dusky lights," or its mystery
" Under a stagnant sky,
Gloom out of gloom uncoiling into gloom ; "
and when he wrote the verses (No. XIII. in Rhymes and
Rhythms) that gave the very feeling, the magical charm of
the Nocturnes —
" What of the incantation
That forced the huddled shapes on yonder shore
To take and wear the night
Like a material majesty ?
That touched the shafts of wavering fire
About this miserable welter and wash —
(River, O River of Journeys, River of Dreams !) —
Into long, shining signals from the panes
Of an enchanted pleasure-house "...
he dedicated them to Whistler. Big and splendid as a Viking,
exuberant, emphatic, Henley was not, however, the type
physically to interest Whistler. The sketch of him (made
in 1896) is one of Whistler's least satisfactory lithographs,
and only six impressions were pulled. But their relations
were always cordial, and when the National Observer was
transferred to London, and Henley returned with it, Whistler
sometimes came to the dinners of the staff at Solferino'Si
Henley had gathered about him the younger literary men
and journalists of promise : Rudyard Kipling, " Bob "
Stevenson, J. M. Barrie, Marriott Watson, G. S. Street,
1890] ii :o 97
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Vernon Blackburn, Fitzmaurice Kelly, Arthur Morrison,
Charles Whibley, Kenneth Graham, George W. Steevens.
After Mr. Astor bought the Pall Mall Gazette, its staff
was largely recruited from the National Observer, and Mr.
Henry Cust, the editor, and Mr. Ivan-Muller the assistant-
editor, joined the group in the room upstairs. When dinner
was all over and Henley, in his usual fashion, was thunder-
ing on the table, the rest listening, Whistler occasionally
dropped in, and the contrast between him and Henley added
to the entertainment of those memorable evenings : Henley,
the " Burly " of Stevenson's essay on Talk and Talkers, who
would " roar you down . . . bury his face in his hands . . .
undergo passions of revolt and agony ; " Whistler, who would
interpose the telling word, let fly the shaft of wit lightly,
whose eloquent hands emphasised it with delicate, graceful
gesture, whose "Ha, ha!" rose gaily above Henley's bois-
terous intolerance. When " Bob " Stevenson was there —
" Spring-HeePd Jack " — the entertainment was complete.
But each of the three talked his best when he held the floor
and we have known Whistler far more brilliant when dining
quietly alone with us. From Solferino's, at a late hour when
Henley, as always in his lameness, had been helped to his
cab, Whistler and J. would retire with " Bob " Stevenson and
a little group to the Savile, where everything under Heaven
was discussed by them, Professor Walter Raleigh, Reginald
Blomfield and Charles Furse frequently joining them, and they
rarely left until the club was closed. Whistler would, in his
turn, be seen to his cab on his way home, and a smaller group
would listen to " Bob " between Piccadilly and Westminster
Bridge, waiting for him to catch the first morning train to
Kew.
Whistler seldom left without some parting shot which his
friends remembered, though he was apparently unconscious
of the effect of these bewildering little sayings of his as he
98 [1890
HONOURS, EXHIBITIONS, ETC.
returned to his house in Cheyne Walk. There, he was often
followed by his new friends and often visited by the few
"artists" he had not cared to lose, especially Mr. Francis
James and Mr. Theodore Roussel. A few Followers also con-
tinued to flutter at his heels. Portraits of some of those who
came to 21 Cheyne Walk, are in the lithograph of The Garden :
Mr. Walter Sickert, Mr. Sidney Starr, Mr. and Mrs. Brandon
Thomas. Mr. Walter Sickert had married Miss Ellen Cobden,
and she was a constant visitor. So also were Henry Harland,
later on editor of the Yellow Book, Wolcot Balestier, the enter-
prising youth who set out to " corner " the literature of the
world, and who, with Mr. S. S. McClure, was bent on syn-
dicating everybody, including Whistler ; Miss Carrie Balestier.
now Mrs. Rudyard Kipling ; an American journalist called
Haxton with a stammer which Whistler adored to the point
of borrowing it on occasions, though he never could manage
the last stage when words that refused to be spoken had to be
spelled. Another was Andre* Raffalovitch, the Russian
youth and poet, whose receptions brought together many of
the most amusing as well as fantastic elements of London
society. But the most intimate friend he made at this period
was Mr. William Heinemann, and this brings us to the great
event of 1890, the publication of The Gentle Art of Making
Enemies.
1890] 99
CHAPTER XXXIV. " THE GENTLE ART."
THE YEAR EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND
NINETY
FOR years, Whistler's letters to the papers puzzled the
crowd. George Moore accounted for them in Modern
Painting by an elaborate theory of physical feebleness,
and this has been taken seriously even in France and America.
One glimpse of Whistler at the printing press, sleeves rolled
up showing two strong arms, and the theory would have been
knocked out. The letters were not an eccentricity ; they
were not a weakness. From the first, written to the Ath-
enceum in 1862, they had but one aim — " to make history."
Buried in the papers, they were lost ; if the history were to be
made they must be collected. They were collected and
edited in The Gentle Art of Making Enemies as Pleasingly
Exemplified in Many Instances, Wherein the Serious Ones of
This Earth, Carefully Exasperated, Have Been Prettily Spurred
On to Unseemliness and Indiscretion, While Overcome by an
Undue Sense of Right.
The book born of years of fighting, was ushered into the
world by a fight. The work of collecting and arranging the
letters was at first undertaken by Mr. Sheridan Ford, an
American journalist in London. Whistler said that Ford only
helped him. Ford said that the idea was his, that he, with
Whistler's approval, was collecting and editing the letters for
a publication of his own. We give Ford's side of the story by
one who followed it at the time, Mr. J. McLure Hamilton, and
this we are better pleased to do because Whistler misunder-
100 [1890
L'AMERICAINE
(Arrangement in Black and IVhite, No. /.)
"THE GENTLE ART"
stood Mr. Hamilton's part in the matter, and credited him
with a malice and enmity that few men could be so utterly
incapable of as he. Whistler would not consent to meet him
in later years, and never understood why we should not agree
in his view of Mr. Hamilton as " a dangerous person." By
accident, they nevertheless did meet in our flat. Whistler
was dining with us, Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton called in the
evening. Other people were there, and they simply ignored
one another. Chance had blundered in its choice of the
moment for the meeting.
The following is Mr. Hamilton's account of Sheridan Ford's
part in The Gentle Art, and we cannot help suspecting that
Whistler would have felt the unfairness of his judgment of
Mr. Hamilton's conduct in the matter, could he have read it :
" In the spring of 1889, I met Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan Ford.
Sheridan Ford was writing notices for the New York Herald, and
Mrs. Sheridan Ford had been interesting picture-dealers in the
work of such men as Swan, Clausen, Melville and others. Ford
had a very strong inborn taste for art, and seemed to be con-
scientiously opposed to all forms of trickery, and was engaged at
that time on a series of articles, which appeared almost daily in
the columns of the New York Herald (London Edition), upon
Whistler and his work. He was also the author of Art, a Com-
modity, a pamphlet widely read both in England and America. He
came to me one day, and told me of an idea that he thought could
be carried out with advantage both to himself and Whistler. He
suggested that the letters which Whistler had been publishing from
time to time in the press, in answer to the defamation of his critics,
could be brought together, edited, and published in book form.
The title was naturally to be The Gentle Art of Making Enemies.
The title, I understood, was Ford's. Whistler and he had talked
the matter over, and it was agreed between them that Ford should
collect the letters, edit them with some remarks of his own, and
publish the book for his own profit.
" The work went on for some months, and occasionally Ford
would bring me some of the letters that he had unearthed from the
newspaper files at the British Museum, to read. I was not
1890] 101
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
acquainted with Whistler, but from what Ford told me, I under-
stood that Whistler was as much interested in the progress of
this book as Ford. The latter seemed to be looking forward, with
great eagerness, to the production of a book which could not fail
to amuse the art world.
" One morning Ford came to me at Alpha House in great'dis-
tress. He brought with him a letter from Whistler requesting
him to discontinue the making of the book, and containing a
cheque for ten pounds in payment for the trouble that he had had
in collecting the materials. The book at that time was almost
complete, and the preface written. After a prolonged talk with
him upon all the bearings of the case, I concluded that Whistler's
change of mind had been determined by the discovery that there
would be too much credit and profit lost to him if he allowed Ford
to bring out the work, and that probably Mrs. Whistler had sug-
gested to Whistler that it would be a great gain to him if he were
to issue the letters himself. Ford asked me what I would advise
him to do. I replied that I, personally, would not go on with the
book, but that if he were careful to omit all copyright matter, he
would be perfectly justified in continuing, after having, of course
returned the cheque to Whistler. I have no doubt that Ford
asked the advice of others, for soon he brought me the advanced
proofs to read, and I spent a great deal of time going over them,
and sometimes suggesting alterations and improvements. Soon
after this I and my family left London for South Wales. A note
from Ford reached me there telling me that the book was finished,
and asking my permission to dedicate it to me. I wrote, in reply,
that I did not wish the work dedicated to me, as it was a jest book,
and for other reasons of my own. Ford found a good publisher
(you will remember the name), who evidently was willing to under-
take the publication of the work, and, as far as I could see, every-
thing was going on satisfactorily, when one morning Ford called
to see me and told me that Whistler had discovered the printer,
and had threatened to proceed against him if he did not immedi-
ately destroy the sheets, and he (Whistler) found and seized the first
sewn-up copy (or leaves) with my name on the dedication page, in
spite of the refusal I had given.
" This brought, at once, a letter from Whistler to me, in which
he abruptly accused me of assisting Ford in wronging him. I
replied in a few words, denying his allegations. At this interview,
Ford's manner was very strange, and for several weeks after he
102 [1890
'THE GENTLE ART"
was confined to his house ill, a very natural consequence of seeing
all his hopes shattered. He had foreseen in the successful pro-
duction of The Gentle Art of Making Enemies the opening of a
happy and profitable career in letters. After his recovery, Mr. and
Mrs. Ford went away, pursued by the relentless activity of Whistler.
In the end, the so-called ' pirated edition,' paper-bound, appeared
in Mechlin * or some other continental city, and was more or less
clandestinely offered for sale in England. Whistler's handsome
volume appeared almost simultaneously.
" While these incidents were progressing, I was asked to dine
at the Hogarth Club, and it had evidently been pre-arranged that I
should meet Whistler after dinner in the smoking-room. This
was my first introduction to the great master. We talked Art and
commonplace, but he never touched upon the subject of the book,
and as I was quite sure the meeting had been arranged in order
that he might discuss with me Ford's conduct, I could not under-
stand his silence. Our next meeting was at a conversazione held at
the Grosvenor Galleries, when we both freely discussed together
the whole question before Melville, who was displeased at the
attitude I took with Whistler. I frankly told him that I thought
he had done Ford a great wrong in withdrawing the editorship of
the book which rightly belonged to him."
Sheridan Ford persisted in his contention that Whistler had
conferred on him the right to publish the collection, and he an-
nounced the simultaneous publication of his book in England
and America. Sir George Lewis stopped it in both countries.
The English publishers, Messrs. Field and Tuer, of the
Leadenhall Press, had supposed that Ford was acting for
Whistler when he brought the MSS. for them to publish. The
text was set up and cast, the type being distributed ; they
were ready to print when they discovered their mistake.
" We then sent for the person in question," they wrote to
Messrs. Lewis and Lewis, " and told him that until he obtained
Mr. Whistler's sanction, we declined to proceed further with
the work."
Sheridan Ford went to Antwerp, and had the book printed
* It was printed in Antwerp, not Mechlin.
1890] 103
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
there. Sir George Lewis followed, and seized the edition at
the printers' on the day of publication, when vans for its
distribution were at their door. The two thousand copies
printed were carried off instead by the Procureur du Roi.
The matter came before the Belgian Courts in October 1891,
M. Edmond Picard and Maitre Maeterlinck, cousin of Maeter-
linck the poet, appearing for Whistler. M. Harry, of the
Indtpendance Beige, described Whistler in the witness-box,
with the eyes of a Mephistopheles, flashing and sparkling under
the thick eyebrows, his manner easy and gay, his French
fluent and perfect. He was asked his religion, and hesitated.
The Judge, thinking to help him, suggested, " A Protestant,
perhaps ? " His answer was a little shrug, as much as to say,
" I am quite willing. You should know. As you choose ! "
He was asked his age — even the Belgian reporter respected
his objection to having any. Judgment was given for him.
Sheridan Ford was sentenced to a fine of five hundred francs,
or three months' imprisonment ; to three thousand francs
damages, or three months more ; to the confiscation of the
two thousand copies, and to all costs. After the trial Whistler
was taken down to the cellars of the Palais de Justice, and
shown the confiscated copies, stored there with other fraudu-
lent goods, by the law of Belgium destined to perish in the
dampness and gloom.
The affair has not yet been forgotten in Belgium — nor has
Whistler. One impression has been written for us by M.
Edmond Picard, the distinguished Senator, his advocate :
"En me demandant de parler de Villustre et regrette Whistler,
vents ne desirez certes pas que j'ajoute mon lot d la riche pyramide
d 'admiration et d'eloges definitivement erigee d sa gloire.
" II ne peut s'agir, dans votre pensee que de ce que je pourrais
ajouter de special et de pittoresque d la Biographic du Grand Artiste.
" Si fai beaucoup vu et aime ses ozuvres, je n'ai qu'entrevu son
originale personne.
" Void deux traits interessants qui s'y rapportent.
104 [1890
'THE GENTLE ART"
" 11 y a quelques ann&es il s'inquieta (Tune contrefa^on qu'un
Stranger habitant Anvers avait perpftre en Belgique de son curieux
livre ' UArt charmant de se faire des ennemis.' Je le via un jour
entrer dans mon cabinet et il me dit avec un sourire sarcastique.
' Je souhaiterais que vous fussiez mon avocat dans cette petite
affaire parcequ'on m'a dit que vous pratiquez aussi bien que moi
fart charmant de se faire des ennemis.y
" Le proces fut gagne a Anvers avec la collaboration de mon
confrere, M. Maeterlinck, parent du poete qui honore tant notre
pays. On celebra chez lui cette victoire. Quand Whistler, heros
de la fete, arriva dans rhospitaliere maison, il s'attardait dans
I 'antichambre. La bonne qui Favait requ vint, avec quelque
effarement, dire en flamand au salon ou Von attendait, ' Madame,
c*est un acteur ; il se coiffe devant le miroir, il se pommade, il se
met du fard et de la poudre ! ' Apr is un assez long intervalle,
Whistler parut, courtois, correct, cire, cosmetique, pimpant comme
le papillon que rappele son nom et qu'il mit en signature, sur
quelques uns des billets qu'il ecrivit alors d ses conseils.
" Et voild tout ce que je puis vous offrir.
" J'a* demande a M. Maeterlinck les documents qu'il pouvait
avoir conserves de cet episode judiciaire. Ses recherches ont ete
vaines. Alors que d'innombrables pieces insignifiantes ont ete
conservees, le Hasard ' qui se permet tout ' a fait disparaitre ces
precieuses epaves"
The " Extraordinary Piratical Plot," as Whistler called it
in The Gentle Art, did not end in Antwerp. Sheridan Ford
took the book to Paris, had it printed there with the name of
Frederick Stokes and Brother of New York on the title-page.
Copies through the post reached England, some sent to news-
papers for review, some to individuals, supposed to be inter-
ested. Sir George Lewis saw that no further copies passed
the Customs. Messrs. Stokes cabled from New York that
their name was used without their permission. In June
1890, a so-called " second edition " was received by some
papers. But that was the last heard of it, and Sheridan Ford's
book was killed.
Once Whistler took up the work, he spared himself no pains
1890] 105
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
to perfect it. His concern was not only for the selection of
material, all of which, except a few comments and " re-
flections," had already been published, but for the appearance
the book should have, the impression it should make. Mr.
Heinemann published it, and it was the time of preparation
for press that drew the two men together. Whistler, as he
always said, was delighted with Heinemann's artistic instinct,
sympathy, enthusiasm, and quick appreciation of his intention.
From the day their agreement was signed, the publisher
entered into the matter with all his heart. Whistler's fights
were his fights, Whistler's victories his victories. Whistler
was flattered also with the intuitive understanding he found,
and drove down daily almost to take out his " publisher,
philosopher and friend," as he described Mr. Heinemann, to
breakfast at the Savoy. He arrived at eleven, when the busi-
ness man had hardly got into the swing of his morning's work,
and carried him off whether he would or no. Was it not
preposterous that there should be other books to be prepared ?
other matters to be thought of while this great Work of art
was being born ? The balcony overlooking the Embankment
was, so long before the customary London hour, deserted,
and there they could go over, discuss, change and arrange
every little detail without interruption. Hours were spent
often in the " arranging " of a single Butterfly, and usually
Whistler came down with his pockets full of gay and fantastic
entomological drawings.
Whistler was constantly at the Ballantyne Press, where the
book was printed. He chose the type, he spaced the text, he
placed the Butterflies, each of which he designed especially
to convey a special meaning. They danced, laughed, mocked,
stung, defied, triumphed, drooped wings over the farthing
damages, spread them to fly across the Channel, and ex-
pressed every word and almost every thought. He designed
the title-page ; a design contrary to all established rules, but
106 [1890
'THE GENTLE ART'
with the charm, the balance, the harmony, the touch of per-
sonality he gave to everything, and since copied and prostituted
by foolish imitators who had no conception of its purpose.
The cover was in the now inevitable brown, with a yellow
back. The title, though attributed to Sheridan Ford, can
be traced to Whistler's speech at the Criterion dinner, and to
the gentle answer that turneth not away wrath. The
dedication is : '* To the rare Few, who, early in Life, have rid
Themselves of the Friendship of the Many, these pathetic
Papers are inscribed."
The book was published in June 1890, and went through
several editions. First, Messrs. John M. Lovell and Co., and
then Messrs. Putnam's Sons, taking it over in America. It
met the fate of all his works. The press received it with the
usual smile at Mr. Whistler's eccentricities, and here and
there a word of praise and appreciation said with more as-
surance than of old. To the multitude of readers, it was a
jest ; to a " saving remnant," it was serious, though to none
more serious than to Whistler, who believed it would live
with the writings of Cennini and Cellini, of Durer and
Leonardo, of Reynolds and Fromentin.
The book is really an artistic autobiography. Whistler
gave the sub-title Auto-Biographical to one section, he might
have given it to the volume. He had a way, half-
laughing, half-serious, of calling it his Bible. " Well, you
know, you have only to look and there it all is in the Bible,"
or " I am afraid you do not know the Bible as you should,"
he often said to us in answer to some question about his
work or his experiences as artist. He was right ; " it " all
is there, if *' it " means his belief in art and his steadfast
adherence to this belief. The trial, the pamphlets, the
letters, the catalogues take their place and appear in their
proper relation to each other as one long deliberate sequence,
instead of the independent, inconsequent little squibs and
1890] 107
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
the elaborate bids for notoriety they were supposed to be.
The Gentle Art may be read with pleasure for its wit alone.
But it is much more than a jest book. The collection begins
with the reprint of the Ruskin trial, which was his brave
effort to fight the battles of artists against critics, though few
have yet grasped the fact that he was fighting not only for
himself but for all artists. It contains his two serious essays :
Whistler v. Ruskin, Art and Art Critics, written in order that
the meaning of the trial might not be missed, and the Ten
o'Clock, first delivered as a lecture in order that the dignity
of art might be upheld. The several shorter Propositions
are included, for these were his statements, in a few vigorous
words, of the technical principles upon which his practice as
artist was based — upon which he believed all art practice
should be based. His letters were gathered together because,
light, witty, " wicked," as they seemed, many were records
of episodes he thought important, while scarcely one is
without some underlying truth he wished to express even if
it remained undiscovered by his contemporaries in their
conviction of his levity. Finally, he reprinted the Catalogue
of the Exhibition of Etchings at the Fine Art Society's in
1883 for no other than the reason already set forth in the
motto, " Out of their own mouths shall ye judge them." To
this, the Catalogue of the Goupil Exhibition of 1892 was
added in the third edition of The Gentle Art, which he helped
to prepare, though it did not appear until after his death.
His object was to expose for all time the stupidity and
ridicule which he was obliged to face, so that his method of
defence should be the better understood.
The book makes us wonder the more that there should have
been necessity for defence, so simple and right is his theory of
art, so sincere and reverent his attitude as artist. We have
spoken of most of the different writings as they appeared.
The collection intensifies the effect each made individually.
108 [1890
'THE GENTLE ART'
Everything he wrote had the same end : to show that art is
to be considered and respected and loved as art, that the
artist's sole pre-occupation is with beauty and the means of
interpreting it with his brush, his pencil, or his needle.
" Art should be independent of all clap-trap — should stand
alone, and appeal to the artistic sense of eye or ear, without
confounding this with emotions entirely foreign to it, as devotion,
pity, love, patriotism, and the like. All these have no kind of
concern with it, and that is why I insist on calling my works
' arrangements ' and ' harmonies.' "
It was for the " knowledge of a life-time," his work was to
be valued, he told the Attorney-General in court. In this
paragraph, and in this answer, you have the key to The
Gentle Art. Fault may be found with argument ; facts and
methods may be challenged. But analysis, description,
technical statement and explanation, all lead to the one great
truth of the independence of art and the entire devotion the
" goddess " demands of her disciples.
It would seem impossible that the statement of a simple
truth should have been suspected and misjudged, were it not
remembered that art in England depended mostly on " clap-
trap " when Whistler wrote, and that his manner of meeting
suspicion was intended to bewilder and mystify. He took
care that his book should be the expression not only of his
belief, but of the artlessness of the prevailing conception of
art, the tendency to confuse it with morals, or sentiment, or
anecdote. Stupidity in critics and public hurt him as much
as insincerity in artists, and when confronted with it, he was
pitiless. It was dulness he could not stand. He met it with
what he called " joyousness : " to be " joyous " was his
philosophy of life and art, " where all is fair," and this philo-
sophy to the multitude proved an enigma. His letters to
the press are apt to be dismissed as shrill, cheap, thin, not
Worthy a great artist, still unworthier of his endeavour to
1890] 109
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
immortalise them. It is true that he might more wisely
have omitted some things from The Gentle Art. It was, after
all, not very witty at the time when he bade Oscar Wilde
put off " the combined costumes of Kossuth and Mr. Man-
talini," and the wit has quite evaporated when we read the
light jest to-day. And so it is with some of his chaffing of
'Any and "the Kangaroo," some of his "spurring on" of
" the serious ones," though it should be added that his lightest
jests told and that the names and ridicule he found for the
" Enemies " stuck to them for ever after. But, on the other
hand, Whistler thought " history " would be half-made, if he
did not leave on record, with the provocation he received, his
own gaiety of retaliation. This is shown by the fact that,
when the battle was won and recognition came, he wrote to
Atlas from Paris : " we ' collect ' no more," and Mes-
sieurs les Ennemis had no longer to fear for their ' scalps.'
Oftener than not, however, the wit is delicately polished or
cruel in its sting. We have already quoted the letter to
Hamerton, where he asks if " this wise person " expected a
symphony in F to be a " continued repetition of F.F.F. . . .
Fool ! " There are letters still more bitter, because gayer
on the surface, to Tom Taylor, as, for instance, that final
disposing of him :
" Why, my dear old Tom, I never was serious with you, even
when you were among us. Indeed, I killed you quite, as who
should say, without seriousness, * A rat ! A rat ! ' you know,
rather cursorily."
Almost all abound in witty phrases, such as his description
of the trial as an " Arrangement in Frith, Jones, Punch and
Ruskin, with a touch of Titian," or his explanation when,
in the quotation from Mr. Wedmore given in his catalogue,
understand was printed for understate : " with Mr. Wedmore,
as with his brethren, it is always a matter of understating,
and not at all one of understanding." The titles for his
no [1890
"THE GENTLE ART'
letters are as witty : An Apology for this very letter in
which the misprint is explained so pleasantly to Mr. Wedmore,
Early Laurels, for the letter proclaiming the compliment
of hisses paid to his Nocturne when produced at the Graham
sale. But only by quoting straight through the book, from
cover to cover, could justice be done to the quality of its wit.
Whistler's wit, like his more serious sayings, told, because
he had the power of expressing himself in words, which is so
rare with artists in other mediums. He could write, he had
style, as we said in speaking of the Ten o* Clock. Literature,
no less than art, was to him a " dainty goddess." He
rounded out his shortest letter, as carefully as a portrait
or a nocturne, until all trace of labour in finishing it had
disappeared. This was one reason why people, awed by
the spectacle of Ruskin labouring through the many
volumes of Modern Painters without succeeding in the
end in saying what he wanted, could not believe that
Whistler was seriously saying anything that mattered in a
few pages showing no sign of labour at all. In his little notes
to Truth and the World, as in the Ten 6* Clock, he reveals the
influence of his close familiarity with the Scriptures, while
his use of French phrases which displeased his critics, his odd
references, his unexpected quotations, are all placed with the
same unerring instinct as the Butterfly on his canvas. He
always chose the right Word, he made even the division of
paragraphs effective, punctuation was with him an art in
itself. It is difficult to give examples, because there is so
much good writing in The Gentle Art. The Ten o' Clock is
full of passages that show him as writer at his best, from his
account of the creation of the artist to his summing up of
the beautiful, none finer than the often-quoted description
of London " when the evening mist clothes the riverside with
poetry, as with a veil." The Propositions and The Red Rag
are as complete within their limits, as simple and direct in
1890] in
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
expression as his prints. The book, in a word, has literary
charm ; as a serious exposition of an artist's beliefs and
doctrines, it can rank with Reynolds' lectures ; as a chronicle
of an artist's adventures, it is as personal and characteristic
in its way as the Memoirs of Cellini.
The period of the preparation and publication of The
Gentle Art was one of small, unimportant quarrels. In each
case, there was provocation. Of one or two, so much was
made at the time, that they cannot be ignored. One, in
1888, was with Mr. Menpes, who, making no secret of it, has
recorded its various stages until the last, when the Follower
adapted the " Master's " decorations and arrangements to
his own house. His Home of Taste was paragraphed in the
papers, and Whistler held him up to the world's ridicule as
" the Kangaroo of his country, born with a pocket and putting
everything into it." The affair came to a crisis not long after
the Times' Parnell disclosures, and Whistler wrote to him :
" You will blow your brains out, of course. Pigott has shown
you what to do under the circumstances, and you know your way
to Spain. Good-bye."
Once afterwards, at a public dinner, Whistler saw Mr. Menpes
come into the room on Mr. Justin McCarthy's arm : " Ha !
ha ! McCarthy," he laughed as they passed him, " Ha ! ha !
You should be careful. You know — Damien died."
In 1890, Augustus Moore, brother of George, never a friend,
was added to the list of " Enemies." The cause was an
offensive reference to Godwin, Mrs. Whistler's first husband,
in The Hawk, an insignificant sheet Moore then edited.
Whistler, knowing that he would find him at any first night,
Went to Drury Lane for the " autumn production," and, in
the foyer hit Moore with a cane across the face, crying,
" Hawk ! Hawk ! " There was a scrimmage, and Whistler,
as the man who attacked, was requested to leave the house.
112 [1890
'THE GENTLE ART'
The whole thing was the outcome of that nice sense of honour,
that feeling of chivalry, which was never understood in
England, though even there it would have been found mag-
nificent in the days of duels. The comic papers made great
fun of the episode, and the " serious ones " lamented the
want of dignity it showed. No one could understand the
loyalty that was carried to such extremes in his devotion to
the woman he loved.
1890] ii H
CHAPTER XXXV. THE TURN OF THE
TIDE. THE YEARS EIGHTEEN NINETY-
ONE TO EIGHTEEN NINETY-TWO
THE world owed him a living, Whistler always said, but
it was not until 1891 and 1892 that the world began to
pay off the debt. The battles, of which The Gentle Art
is the record, were over. The medals and decorations of
1888 and 1889 were signs of the change which began with the
purchase of the Carlyle for Glasgow, and The Mother for
the Luxembourg in 1891.
It was almost twenty years since Whistler first exhibited
the two pictures, and they were still his property. The Car-
lyle had been returned to him from the Glasgow Institute in
1888, as from previous exhibitions. But a younger generation
had arisen in Scotland. The Glasgow School was beginning to
be heard of and was becoming a power. Three great influences
in their development were, according to their own profession,
Whistler, the Japanese, and William M'Taggart, and the
greatest of these was Whistler. Mr. E. A. Walton and Mr.
(now Sir) James Guthrie determined to secure the Carlyle for
Glasgow, and they were more successful than Mr. Halkett had
been in Edinburgh. Mr. Walton, on January 12, 1891, wrote
to Whistler, that he was preparing a petition to be presented to
the Glasgow Corporation, urging the purchase of the Carlyle
for the City Gallery, and asking if it was still for sale. It was,
Whistler answered (January 19), and though he had just
been approached by an American, he would reserve the
picture for Glasgow. Mr. Walton thenjwrote asking the
114 [1891
THE TURN OF THE TIDE
price, and enclosing a copy of the petition. Whistler an-
swered (February 3) that he was honoured and flattered ;
that the price would be, as in 1888, one thousand guineas ;
that he was pleased to find the names of Orchardson and
Gilbert on the memorial, which was signed also by a third
Royal Academician, Millais, and a long list of Scotch artists.
The appeal to the Corporation was successful, and from
Glasgow came the first public recognition of Whistler's
pictures in Great Britain, the first official demand for one of
his pictures anywhere.
Whistler was prepared by the Secretary for the visit of a
deputation from the Council.
" I received them, well, you know, charmingly, of course. And
one who spoke for the rest asked me if I did not think I was put-
ting a large price on the picture — one thousand guineas. And I
said, ' Yes, perhaps, if you will have it so ! ' And he said that it
seemed to the Council excessive; why, the figure was not even
life-size. And I agreed. ' But, you know,' I said, ' few men are
life-size.' And that was all. It was an official occasion, and I
respected it. Then they asked me to think over the matter until
the next day, and they would come again. And they came. And
they said, ' Have you thought of the thousand guineas and what
we said about it, Mr. Whistler ? ' And I said, ' Why, gentlemen,
why — well, you know, how could I think of anything but the
pleasure of seeing you again ? ' And naturally, being gentlemen,
they understood, and they gave me a cheque for the thousand
guineas."
What Whistler thought of the " life-size " portrait, he had
first told the public through Mr. Walter Dowdeswell four
years before (1887) :
" No man alive is life-size except the recruit who is being
measured as he enters the regiment, and then the only man wha
sees him life-size is the sergeant who measures him, and all that
he sees of him is the end of his nose ; when he is able to see his
toes, the man ceases to be life-size."
1891] 115
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Before the Carlyle went to Glasgow, Whistler wished to
show it in London, where, except in Queen Square, it had not
been seen since the Grosvenor Exhibition of 1877, and it was
exhibited at the Goupil Gallery.
Mr. D. Croal Thomson, recognising that " the turning-point
was approaching," suggested offering the portrait of The
Mother to the Luxembourg. In Paris, as well as in London,
there was a sudden curiosity and even a first beginning of a
general appreciation of his work, which the last nine years
had made much better known there. For, since 1882, he had
shown at the Salon one after another of his great portraits :
Lady Meux, The Mother, Carlyle, Miss Alexander, The Yellow
Buskin, M. Duret, Sarasate. Then followed the Rosa Corder
in the new Salon, formed by the Societe Nationale des Beaux-
Arts — a secession really from the old Salon of the Societe des
Artistes Franfais — where he appeared for the first time as
Societaire in 1891, though Mr. Sargent and other Americans
were made members in 1890. To the small distinguished
International Exhibitions held in the Petit Gallery, he had
been contributing many of his smaller works in every medium.
The French were thus given the opportunity to see and judge
and they did not misuse it. At Mr. Croal Thomson's sug-
gestion, The Mother was then sent to Messrs. Boussod Valadon
in Paris, and subscriptions for the purchase were opened. But
before any amount worth mentioning was subscribed, the
French Government, on the advice of M. Roger Marx, bought
it for the nation. M. Bourgeois, the Minister of Fine Arts,
had some doubt as to the possibility of offering for so fine
a masterpiece the small price that the nation could afford.
But Whistler at once set him at ease on this point, writing to
him that, of all his pictures, he would prefer for The Mother so
" solemn a consecration," and that he was proud of the honour
France had shown him. The price actually paid by the French
nation was four thousand francs, but it is almost unnecessary
116 [1891
THE TURN OF THE TIDE
to record that Whistler's pleasure, as he expressed it to Mr.
Alan S. Cole at the time, November 14, 1891, was in the
fact of *' his painting of his mother being ' unprecedently '
chosen by the Minister of Beaux- Arts for the Luxembourg."
France, however, in that year, made up for the meagre price
it paid by bestowing upon Whistler an honour he valued
higher than almost any he ever received, and making him
Officer of the Legion of Honour.
The event was celebrated by a reception at the Chelsea Arts
Club on the evening of December 19, 1891. Whistler was
presented with a parchment of greetings, signed by a hundred
members, as
" a record of their high appreciation of the distinguished honour
that has come to him by the placing of his mother's portrait in
the national collection of France."
Whistler's speech in acknowledgment was characteristic.
He was gratified by this token from his brother artists :
"It is right at such a time of peace, after the struggle, to
bury the hatchet — in the side of the enemy — and leave it there.
The congratulations usher in the beginning of my career, for an
artist's career always begins to-morrow."
He promised to be for long one of the Chelsea artists — a
promise Chelsea artists showed no special desire to keep him
to. He was a member of the club for a few years, until he
went to Paris. When, later, Mr. Lavery proposed him as an
Honorary Member, there was not enough enthusiasm to
carry the motion.
Early in 1892, Mr. D. Croal Thomson, who has sent us the
following account, arranged with Whistler for an exhibition
of Nocturnes, Marines and Chevalet Pieces at the Goupil
Gallery in London, or, as Whistler called it, " my heroic kick
in Bond Street."
" I met Mr. Whistler in 1880, and from the first I seemed to
be in complete sympathy with him. That he returned this
1892] 117
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
sentiment is very likely, for in all the succeeding twenty-five
years, while having many and important business affairs together,
we never had any serious discussions or disputes over anything.
" I became convinced that all Mr. Whistler's quarrels originated
because the person concerned did not correctly understand and
appreciate his work ; once Mr. Whistler became assured of living
sympathy in his productions, my experience was that he was ready
to accept all the rest. He knew that I had studied drawing and
painting, and some nocturnes that I had made at the end of the
'seventies, before I had met him, were the source of some interesting
and good-humourd chaff from him. In any case, these feeble
efforts convinced him of my ability to understand, and my loyalty
to him was never challenged in his lifetime.
" There is no doubt that Mr. Whistler was deeply touched and
nattered by the acquisition in 1891 of Carlyle's portrait by the
Glasgow Corporation.
" At that time I was director of the Goupil Gallery at 117 New
Bond Street. I had not up to this date had any business trans-
actions with Mr. Whistler, and he knew me only as a pronounced
admirer of his art.
" I do not know if the painter had been anywhere else on the
same errand, but I do know that he called on me on his own
initiative to tell me that the Carlyle was going to Glasgow, and to
say that he would like to exhibit the picture in London before it
went to Scotland.
" I expressed the pleasure the news gave me, for although I
had heard rumours of the affair, I was not in touch with its pro-
gress— the artist's intimation was the first direct information I had
of its conclusion. Mr. Whistler repeated that he would like the
portrait to be well seen in London, and I immediately offered to
show it for him. I said to him, ' I will not only show the picture,
but give it a room all to itself, and make it a shrine.' There was
no need to say anything more ; Mr. Whistler understood what I
meant, and he trusted me for the rest.
" Soon after the picture was brought to the Gallery and installed
in a small salon, nothing else being hung in the room. Public
intimation was given that the picture was on view without charge ;
many people visited the Gallery, and, as I said to Mr. Whistler and
his wife when they called at the end of the show, most of them
came with a smile but many went away with the grave look which
betokened deep thought. And a few, not a large number in these
118 [1892
THE TURN OF THE TIDE
days, seemed to understand how great a masterpiece they had
been privileged to examine.
" Mr. Whistler came to thank my principals and me for lending
the Gallery, for our artist was always most punctilious in such
courtesies, and it was at this interview, there and then, in the
Goupil Gallery, that the first idea of The Mother going to the
Luxembourg was suggested.
" Telling the painter and his wife of my observation of our
visitors and of the indications of change I had so readily remarked,
I said to him that the time had at length arrived when some
strong action should be energetically set in force to capture the
public estimation, if necessary by storm, and place the ' master,'
as we had begun to call him, in the niche we all believed he would
certainly occupy sooner or later. It was only a question of
hastening the fulfilment of this that prompted my own thought,
for I knew well, and still think, that nothing I, or any one else,
could do would affect the ultimate verdict, but I did think it was
possible to obtain this more quickly, and what was principally in
my mind, was to realise the result during the life-time of the
painter.
" So I proposed to Mr. Whistler to sell The Mother to the
National Gallery, or the Luxembourg.
" Then we set to and discussed the whole position, Mr. Whistler
saying that he preferred the Luxembourg, for he considered the
French Gallery more sympathetic and the French people more
appreciative. The welcome with which the proposition was
received in Paris was certainly one of the reasons which made Mr.
Whistler, even when living in England and receiving more of his
inspiration therein, aver that he preferred the French to the
English people.
" Mr. Whistler left the matter in my hands for the time, and
I began a lively correspondence with my friends in Paris. My
connection with the house of Goupil led me to write to a member
of that firm, and I chose M. Joyant as the one most likely to be
sympathetic. I was not mistaken, for M. Joyant — who since then
has become a partner in Goupil's successors — took up the idea
with whole-hearted ardour. . . .
" The whole affair was peculiarly agreeable to Mr. Whistler, and
he made no concealment of his satisfaction, and for about the only
time in his life, so far as I know it, he openly rejoiced. . . .
" When the opportunity arose, very soon after, I again urged
1892]
JAMES] McNEILL WHISTLER
Mr. Whistler to * rub it in,' and go a step further towards attaining
immediate favour, and not let the matter rest until it became too
late. I said to him, speaking, of course, strictly from my own
point of view, which after all was the one which put me closely in
touch with the artist, ' Your etchings are known to every collector,
your pastels have been exploited already in Bond Street, while
your other works in lithography and water-colour will never
command large enough markets to satisfy me and my Gallery,
therefore there only remain your pictures in oil. I have found
some success in showing the Carlyle, I have helped you towards
placing The Mother in the Luxembourg ; let us now gather
together your paintings and make a very big splash.
" Mr. Whistler said very little, but I immediately ascertained
that the proposal was completely acceptable to him. My thought
was only to have his figure pictures, and at first I did not realise
there were more than would fill one salon ; but one day Mr.
Whistler brought a list and said that the exhibition must embrace
all his works in oil — Nocturnes, Symphonies, together with the
Figures and Portraits which I had suggested, both old and new.
It was a much larger scheme than I had projected, and from the
length of the list and the importance of the pictures, I foresaw
what a splendid opportunity the artist was laying before me, and
I almost gasped with delight.
" It was common talk in those days that Mr. Whistler was a
difficult man to get on with in the ordinary concerns of life, and
I was not prepared for this complete realisation of my wishes. I
had thought it likely that the artist would let me have my own
way to some extent because of the immediately preceding incident,
but I never counted on securing his whole-hearted support, far
less on receiving his proposal for a much larger scheme, covering
the whole of the artist's labours in the most permanent medium.
" But the event showed how little I knew the man ; whereas
up to this time I had believed I was promoting schemes with Mr.
Whistler which he approved with a certain aloofness, I now
realised I was only like the fly on the wheel, and that the artist
was himself setting the whole machinery in motion, and that this
machinery was vaster and more world-moving than anything I had
ever had to do with hitherto.
" Mr. Whistler laboured almost night and day ; he wrote letters
to every one of the owners of his works in oil asking loans of the
pictures. Some, like Mr. Alexander, and all the lonides connection
120 [1892
OLD BATTERSEA BRIDGE
Brown and Silver
THE TURN OF THE TIDE
acceded at once, but others made delays, and even to the end
several owners absolutely declined to lend. On the whole, how-
ever, the artist was thoroughly well supported by his early patrons,
and the result was a gathering together of the most complete
collection of Mr. Whistler's best works in art. Even the re-
markable Memorial Exhibition of 1903 was not finer, and London
was taken by storm.
" Mr. Whistler was not present at the Private View. He knew
that many people would expect to see him and talk enthusiastic
nonsense, and he rightly decided he was better to be away, and I
was left alone to receive the visitors. Some hundreds of cards
of invitation were issued, and it really seemed as if every recipient
had accepted the call. Literally, crowds thronged the galleries
all day, and it is quite impossible to describe the excitement pro-
duced. I do not know how it fared with the artist and his wife
during the day, but about five o'clock in the evening Mr. and Mrs.
Whistler came in, though they would not enter the exhibition — they
remained in a curtained-ofif portion of the Gallery near the entrance.
One or two of their most intimate friends were informed by me
of the presence of the painter, and a small reception was held, for
a little while, but of course by that time the battle was over and
won, and there were only congratulations to be rendered to the
master. The previous day, March 18, 1892, the critics had the
place to themselves, and several stayed practically all day long.
" The arrangement of the pictures was entirely in Mr. Whistler's
own hands, for although it had been arranged that several young
artists should come to the Gallery the evening the works were to
be hung, through some mischance they did not arrive, and I was
therefore left alone with Mr. Whistler, and received a great lesson
in the art of arranging a collection.
" As hours went on and the workmen required a rest, I sent
for some refreshments, which happened to be exactly to the
liking of the artist, although at the moment I did not realise how
much satisfaction I was giving to him in this trifling attention ;
but next day Whistler told his young friends how much they had
missed, and what a splendid and exciting evening we had had in
hanging the forty-three pictures of the collection.
" The success of the exhibition was so great that it was im-
possible to do anything but, as it were, shepherd the visitors in
and out as rapidly as the attendants could. After the first two
days we saw it was impossible for the serious people to examine
1892] 121
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
the pictures in quietness, and we decided to make Friday a half-
crown day. The fashionable world took to this idea. On the
other days policemen had to be requisitioned to keep order at the
door, and in the afternoons the crush made it almost impossible
to see the pictures.
" Another Whistlerian touch was given to the exhibition by its
being announced that artists would be admitted free every morning
up to eleven o'clock, and many dozens took advantage of this
privilege, which formed the basis of a clever drawing in Punch by
Mr. Bernard Partridge. At first the exhibition was to be opened for
a fortnight, but Mr. Whistler wrote to most of the owners of the
pictures and obtained permission to extend it another week. The
last day the exhibition was open was a record, and there were
nearly two thousand visitors to the rooms. The catalogue, of
which thousands were sold, was itself remarkable, and the sale of
these was entirely Mr. Whistler's own property.
" I do not think I am exaggerating when I say that this col-
lection marked a revolution in the public feeling towards Whistler.
His artistic powers were hitherto disputed on every hand, but
when it was possible for lovers of art to see for themselves what
the painter had accomplished, the whole position was changed.
I will be pardoned, I hope, in stating that whereas up to that
time the pictures of Mr. Whistler commanded only a small sum
of money, after the exhibition a great number of connoisseurs
desired to acquire his works, and therefore their money value
immediately increased.
" In the Goupil collection all the pictures were contributed by
private owners, and none were offered for sale. I may say in
passing, that as a matter of fact, the crowds of visitiors were so
great that no transaction of any serious kind was carried through
in the Gallery between the hanging of the pictures and their dis-
persal— that is, for nearly five weeks there was practically no
record of business.
" But the exhibition altered all this, and it is revealing no secrets
to say that within a year after the exhibition was closed, I had
aided in the transfer of more than one-half of the pictures from
their first owners. So much so was this the case that Mr. Whistler
to whom I always referred before concluding any transaction, came
to the conclusion that there was hardly a holder of his pictures in
England but who would sell when tempted by a large price.
It may be that these owners had become affected by the continual
122 [1892
THE TURN OF THE TIDE
misunderstanding and abuse of Mr. Whistler's works, and that
when they were offered double or three times the sum for which
they had asked their pictures to be insured, they thought they
had better take advantage of the enthusiasm of the moment.
They did not realise that this enthusiasm would continue to
enlarge, and that what seemed to them as original purchasers
of the pictures to be a great price is only about one-fourth of
their present money value.
" It was the artist's wish that a similar exhibition should be
held in Paris, but the project fell through, and from more recent
experience it would appear as if the London public sometimes so
severely scoffed at by Mr. Whistler, was really more appreciative
than the Parisian public, and, therefore, perhaps after all more
intelligent."
1895]
CHAPTER XXXVI. THE TURN OF THE
TIDE. THE YEARS EIGHTEEN NINETY-ONE
TO EIGHTEEN NINETY-TWO CONTINUED
ONE reason of the success of the exhibition of 1892,
which surprised not only Mr. Croal Thomson but all
London, was Whistler's care, when selecting his pictures,
to secure as great variety as possible. The collection was a
magnificent refutation of everything that the critics had been
saying about him for years. They dismissed his pictures as
mere sketches, and he confronted them with The Blue Wave,
Brown and Silver: Old Batter sea Bridge, The Music Room,
which had not been seen in London since the early 'sixties.
They objected to his want of finish and slovenliness in detail,
and his answer was the Japanese pictures, full of an elaboration
of detail the Pre-Raphaelites never equalled, and finished
with an exquisiteness of surface they never attempted. He
was told that he could not draw, and he produced a group of
his finest portraits ; he was assured that he had no poetic
feeling, no imagination, and he displayed the paintings of
the Thames, with the sordid factories and chimneys on its
banks transformed into a fairyland in the night. He was as
careful in arranging the manner in which the pictures should
be presented. His letters to Mr. Croal Thomson from Paris,
where he was spending the greater part of 1892, were minute
in his directions for cleaning and varnishing the paintings,
and putting them into new frames of his own design. Indeed,
the correspondence on the subject is, in every particular, a
miracle of thoughtfulness, energy and method. In the face
124 [1892
THE TURN OF THE TIDE
of so complete a collection, in such perfect condition and so
well-hung, criticism was silenced. We remember the press
view, and the dismay of the older critics who hoped for
another " crop of little jokes," and the triumph of the younger
critics who knew that Whistler, at last, had won the day.
The papers, daily, weekly and monthly, almost unanimously
admitted that the old game of ridicule was played out and
praised the exhibition without reserve. When Whistler
found that the approval of the public was no less unanimous,
he was heard to say that even Academicians had been seen
prowling about the place lost in admiration, that it needed
only to send a season ticket to Ruskin to make the situation
perfect and that,
" Well you know, they were always pearls I cast before them,
and the people were always — well, the same people."
Whistler first intended to print the catalogue without any
comment or quotation from the press. But the occasion
to expose the futility of criticism, was too good to miss, and
choice extracts were placed under the titles of the pictures.
Catalogue and extracts are embodied in the latest edition of
The Gentle Art, and though some of the points may now have
lost their effect, they did not fail to rouse the public of the
moment and enrage the critics, for big and little, he pilloried
them all. It was cruel, but who among them had ever
spared him ? The sub-title, The Voice of a People, explains
his object in publishing the quotations, and the climax of his
" wickedness " was the addition of an epilogue in the shape of
an announcement, from the Chronique des Beaux-Arts, of the
purchase of The Mother for the Luxembourg and its reception
in France as a picture destined to rank with the work of
Rembrandt, Titian, and Velasquez. The catalogue was, as
usual, bound in brown paper, and it received the same at-
tention he gave to every detail of the exhibition. Because
1892] 125
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
the order of the quotations did not please him in the first
edition, two hundred and fifty copies were destroyed on
press day and the critics kept waiting until half-past four in
the afternoon. Another touch of " wickedness " was his
perpetuating in The Gentle Art a printer's error in the second
edition, by which " Kindly lent by their Owners " became
" Kindly Lent their Owners." Five editions in all were
printed.
Before the show was closed, the pictures were all photo-
graphed, and afterwards published in a portfolio. He de-
signed the cover in the brown and yellow of The Gentle Art.
There were a hundred sets, each photograph signed by
Whistler, published at six guineas, and two hundred unsigned
at four guineas.
An immediate result of the exhibition was that purchasers
and sitters now came in numbers. One of the first to approach
him was the Duke of Marlborough, who gave him a com-
mission for a portrait and asked him and Mrs. Whistler to
Blenheim for the autumn. Whistler wrote the Duke one of
his " charming letters," and then heard of his sudden death,
and, he told us,
" Now I shall never know whether my letter killed him, or
whether he died before he got it. — Well, they all want to be
painted because of these pictures, but why wouldn't they be
painted years ago, when I wanted to paint them ? and could
have painted them just as well ? "
He was besieged by Americans, who were determined " to
pour California into his lap : " a determination to which he
had no objection. His pockets should be always full, or his
golden eggs were addled. He thought it would be " amazing
fun " to be rich. Once, driving with Mr. Sidney Starr, he
said :
" Starr, I have not dined, as you know, so you need not think
I say this in any but a cold and careful spirit ; it is better to live on
126
THE LAST OF OLD WESTMINSTER
THE TURN OF THE TIDE
bread and cheese and paint beautiful things, than to live like
Dives and paint pot-boilers. But a painter really should not
have to worry about — ' various,' you know. Poverty may
induce industry, but it does not produce the fine flower of paint-
ing. The test is not poverty, it's money. Give a painter money
and see what he'll do ; if he does not paint, his work is well lost
to the world. If I had had — say, three thousand pounds a year,
what beautiful things I could have done."
Nothing marked the difference in the public's estimation
of him more than the increasing and eager demand for his
earlier pictures which had been scorned not so very long ago.
Never, at any time, did so many change hands as during the
next two or three years, and always at immensely higher
prices. To an American, he sold The Falling Rocket, the
subject of the trial, for eight hundred guineas, and only
wished that Ruskin could know that it had been valued at
" four pots of paint : " two hundred guineas having been the
original price objected to by Ruskin. The Leyland sale,
May 28, 1892, brought the Princesse du Pays de la Porcelaine
and smaller works into the auction room, and, though the
Princesse fetched only four hundred and twenty guineas, this
was four times as much as Whistler had received for it. What
would he have said to the five thousand guineas Mr. Freer
paid for it within a year of his death ? The sixty or eighty
pounds Mr. Leathart had paid Whistler for the Lange Leizen
increased to six or eight hundred when he sold it. Mr. lonides
had bought Sea and Rain for twenty or thirty pounds, and
now asked three hundred. Fifty pounds, the price of the
Blue Wave when Mr. Gerald Potter had it from Whistler,
multiplied to a thousand when it was his turn to dispose of it.
Fourteen hundred pounds was given by Mr. Studd for The
Little White Girl and a Nocturne, the two having cost Mr.
Potter about one hundred and eighty pounds, and we have
been told that Mr. Studd was recently offered six thousand
pounds for The Little White Girl alone. Whistler resented it,
1892] 127
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
not unnaturally, when he found that fortunes were being
made " at his expense " by so-called friends, and he com-
plained that they were turning his reputation into pounds,
shillings and pence, travelling over Europe and holiday-
making on the profits. He went even to the extent of sug-
gesting that a work of art, when sold, should still remain the
artist's property, that it was only " lent its owner." It was
now his frequent demand to owners, and condition to pur-
chasers, that his pictures should be available for exhibition
when and where and as often as he pleased. This is illus-
trated in the following letter which Mr. H. S. Theobald, K.C.,
writes us :
" . . . . Whistler's work was one of my early admirations,
and my admiration of it steadily grew. About 1870 I began
to get such of his etchings as I could, and somewhere early in the
'eighties, I think it was, I became the fortunate possessor of some
thirty or forty drawings and pastels through the Dowdeswells.
Whistler became aware of my ownership of these, and they some-
times brought him to my house, which was then in a remote spot
called Westbourne Square. The pictures, owing to stress of space,
hung mostly on the staircase, and Whistler would stand in rapt
admiration before them, with occasional ejaculations of ' how
lovely,' ' how divine,' and so on. On one of these occasions he
asked my wife if she had had her portrait taken, ' but of course
not,' he added, ' as I have not painted you.'
" My intercourse with the Master was limited to occasions when
he wanted to borrow the pictures. His manner of proceeding was
somewhat abrupt. Some morning a person would appear in a four-
wheel cab and present Whistler's card, on which was written,
' Please let bearer have fourteen of my pictures.' Sometimes, but
not often, there was a preliminary warning from Whistler him-
self. But though the pictures went easily, it was a labour of
Hercules to retrieve them. Once when I went to fetch them at
his studio by appointment, after a previous effort, also by appoint-
ment, which was not kept, I found the studio locked, but after
a search among the neighbours I got the key and then I found
some two or three hundred pictures stacked round the room buried
in the dust of ages. Whistler loved his pictures, but he certainly
128 [1892
THE CHILDREN OF F. R. LEYLAND, ESQ.
(Pastels)
THE TURN OF THE TIDE
took no care of them. On that occasion I remember I took away
by mistake in exchange for one of my pictures, a Nocturne that
did not belong to me, though it was very like one of .mine. You
can imagine the Master's winged words when he found this out.
I could only cry mea culpa and bow my head before the storm.
It was the risk to which I feared the pictures were exposed which
made me harden my heart. You see, therefore, that the side of
Whistler's character which came before me was the self-asserting
egotistic side — not the side which I suppose he kept for his
friends. But the Master, even when most egotistic, was always
delightful, for his egotism was relieved by wit and there was always
the great artist in the background. You remember his speech
at the dinner we gave him in London many years ago — the
opening words come back to me. ' Gentlemen, we live in an age
when every remedy has its appropriate disease ' — the right note
was struck at once. . . ."
It was bad enough in Whistler's eyes when he had sold the
picture that came up for sale to its original owner ; when he
had given it, he could see nothing in the sale except " robbery."
An instance is recalled to us by Sir Rennell Rodd, who was in
Paris in 1892, the year when this " traffic," as Whistler called
it, had begun :
" We foregathered again. I remember at this time taking
Mrs. Jack Gardner, of Boston, to acquire one of his pictures
which he had recovered, under peculiar conditions illustrating
the peculiar twist of his mind and his way of looking at things,
not agreeable to every one. A certain Mr. X. had bought four
or five of his pictures, and, at that time, Jimmy had made him a
present of another — a particularly beautiful picture to my mind,
a long stretch of foreshore sand and sea and sky. When X.
was practically ruined, and had to sell his pictures, he passed
the Whistlers on to their creator, who would, he thought, be
better able to dispose of them for him. Jimmy agreed to do so.
He always loved to get back any of his own works into his studio,
and to appreciate them over again after the long interval of
absence. But he explained to X. as he told me himself, that this
arrangement of course affected the pictures which he had bought,
the four ; there was, however, another, a fifth, which had been a
1892] un 129
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
gift : and a gift, he was sure X. himself would admit, was con-
ditioned by certain sentimental considerations, and the transfer
of the object was occasioned by a certain expansion of feeling,
and while kind feeling subsisted the nature of the gift as a pledge
of friendship, or affection, was attached to the object in question,
and, so long as such feelings were reciprocated, the picture was
of course the property of X., but once the intention had invaded
his mind of selling it or transferring it to auction without senti-
ment, and for a consideration, the whole spirit of the original
transfer was shattered, annihilated ; the gift that was had ceased
to be a gift in the spirit in which it was given — ' and, in fact,'
said Jimmy, ' this picture is mine again.' So he kept it — and he
had it there in Paris, and that is the picture Mrs. Gardner
acquired."
Whistler was no more anxious to control the exhibition of
his pictures, than to suppress them altogether when he did
not care to have them shown or sold. The large Three Girls
(Three Figures, Pink and Grey in the London Memorial Ex-
hibition) was at Messrs. Dowdeswell's in the summer of 1891.
He had before this tried to get possession of it in order that he
might destroy it, and he had offered to paint the portrait of
the owner and his wife in exchange. His offer was refused,
and, while the picture was at Messrs. Dowdeswell's, he wrote
a letter to the Pall Mall Gazelle (July 28, 1892), to explain
that it was a " painting thrown aside for destruction." An
impudent answer from a critic led to a more explicit statement
of his views on the subject :
" All along have I carefully destroyed plates, torn up proofs,
and burned canvases, that the truth of the quoted word shall
prevail, and that the future collector shall be spared the morti-
fication of cataloguing his pet mistakes. To destroy, is to remain."
In the summer of 1892, Whistler was invited by Sir Frederick
Leighton to show in the British Section at the World's Col-
umbian Exposition to be held in Chicago the following year,
and the picture specially mentioned for the purpose was the
130 [1892
THE TURN OF THE TIDE
Carlyle. The portrait had been skied in a remote corner the
previous winter at the Victorian Exhibition in the New
' Gallery, of which Mr. J. W. Beck was Secretary, as he was
now of the Fine Arts Committee for Chicago. Whistler
never forgot. He wrote to Mr. Beck, sending his "dis-
tinguished consideration " to the President, with the assurance
" that I have an undefined sense of something ominously flattering
occurring, but that no previous desire on his part ever to deal
with work of mine has prepared me with the proper form of
acknowledgment. No, no, Mr. Beck ! — Once hung, twice shy ! "
When the letter was sent to the papers, and printers made
" sky " of the " shy," Whistler was enchanted. Mr. Smalley
told the story of Leighton's invitation in the Times, after
Whistler's death, under the impression that he had been
invited to show at Burlington House. That Whistler never
was invited to show anything there we know, and we have
the further testimony of Mr. Fred. Eaton, Secretary of the
Academy :
" No such proposal as Mr. Smalley speaks of, was ever made
to Mr. Whistler, and it is difficult to understand on what grounds
he made such a statement."
It is at least an amusing coincidence that this should seem
to be confirmed by the fate of a letter addressed to Whistler,
*' The Academy, England," which, after having gone to the
newspaper of that name, was next sent to Burlington House,
and finally reached Whistler with " Not known at the R.A.,"
written on the cover. Here was one of the little incidents
that Whistler called " the droll things of this pleasant life,"
and he sent the cover for reproduction to the Daily Mail with
the reflection :
" In these days of doubtful frequentation, it is my rare good
fortune to be able to send you an unsolicited official and final
certificate of character."
1892] 131
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Whistler did not depend upon the British Section at the
Chicago Exposition. Americans now made up for the official
blunders of 1889. Professor Halsey C. Ives, Chief of the Art
Department in Chicago, wrote to Whistler letters that Whistler
found most courteous, and everything was done to secure a
good show of his pictures and prints. We might as well say
at once that, as a result, he was splendidly represented by
The Yellow Buskin, the Princesse du Pays de la Porcelaine,
the Fur Jacket among other paintings, and by etchings of
every period. The medal given him, was the first official
honour from his native land, where, it should also be explained,
never before had so representative a collection of his work
been seen.
Toward the end of 1892, the appreciation of America was
expressed in another form. The new Boston Library was
being built, and Messrs. McKim, Meade and White were the
architects. It was determined that the interior should be
decorated by the most distinguished American artists. Mr.
Sargent and Mr. Abbey had been already commissioned to
do part of the work, when they joined with Stanford White
and St. Gaudens in trying to induce Whistler to undertake
the large panel on the stairs. He made notes and suggestions
for the design, which, he told us, was to be a great peacock
ten feet high, but the work was put off, and, in the end,
nothing came of the first great opportunity given him for
mural decoration since the Peacock Room.
132 [1892
CHAPTER XXXVII. PARIS. THE YEAR
EIGHTEEN NINETY-TWO TO NINETY-
THREE
WHISTLER went to Paris to live in 1892. Moving from
London was, for him, a complicated affair, and, during
several months, he and Mrs. Whistler, as well as Miss Birnie
Philip (Mrs. Whibley), were continually running backward and
forward, until they finally settled in the Rue du Bac. We
saw him now, whenever he came to London, and whenever
we were in Paris, and, as we were there often, this means that
we saw much of him.
At this time, a group of artists and art critics, who were
mostly friends, and whose appreciation of Whistler had not
waited for the turning of the tide, were in the habit of going
together to Paris for the opening of the Salon. In 1892, R.
A. M. Stevenson, Aubrey Beardsley, Henry Harland, D. S.
McColl, Charles W. Furse, Alexander and Robert Ross among
others, were with us, and it was a pleasure to us all to find
Whistler triumphing in Paris as he had triumphed earlier in
the spring in London. His pictures at the Champ-de-Mars
were the most talked about and the most distinguished in an
unusually good Salon. Many came straight from the Goupil
Exhibition. Whistler called it " a stupendous success all
along the line," and he said that, coming after the Goupil
" heroic kick," it made everything for him complete and
perfect. He was pleased also with the fact that this year he
was on the jury.
In the autumn, J., returning to Paris, after a long summer
1892] 133
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
in the south of France, found Whistler installed in the Hotel
du Bon Lafontaine at the corner of the Rue de Crenelle and
the Rue des Saints-Peres ; a house, Whistler said, full of
Bishops, Cardinals, and Monsignori, and altogether most
correct. The following is J.'s account of his days with
Whistler during this autumn and the summer of 1893 :
" I found him, not too comfortably established, in one or
two small rooms. He was full of the apartment in the Rue du
Bac, which I was taken to see, though there was nothing to
see but workmen and packing-boxes. In the midst of the
moving, he was working, and, one day, I found him in his
bedroom with Mallarme, whose portrait in lithography he
was drawing, and there was scarcely place for the three of us.
" It was the first time I had ever seen Whistler working on
a lithograph. He had great trouble with this portrait, which
he did more than once : not altogether because, as M. Duret
says, he could not get the head right, but because he was
trying experiments with paper. He was thoroughly dis-
satisfied with the mechanical grained paper, which he had
used for the Albemarle and the Whirlwind prints, and he was
then afraid of trusting to the post the paper that Way was
sending him. He had found at Belfont's or Lemercier's some
thin textureless transfer paper, thin as tissue paper, which
delighted him, though it was difficult to work on. When he
was doing the Mallarme, I remember he put the paper down
on a roughish book cover. He liked the grain the cover gave
him, for it was not mechanical, and, when the grain seemed
to repeat itself, he would shift the drawing, and thus get a
new surface. I do not know whether he used this thin paper
to any extent, but he said he found it delightful, if difficult, to
work on, and spoke of the advantage of being able to roll it up
and send it to the printer by post without risk. The Mallarme,
however, was not sent to Way, but was printed by Belfont in
Paris. He used that afternoon a tiny bit of lithographic
134 [1892
PARIS
chalk, holding it in his fingers, and not in a crayon-holder, as
lithographers do.
"The next day, he took me with him to the printers,
Belfont's, in the Rue Gaillon. We went also to Lemercier's,
where he introduced me to M. Duchatel and to M. Marty,
who was then preparing UEstampe Originale, devoting himself
to the revival of artistic lithography in France. As I re-
member, the talk was technical, when not of the wonders of the
apartment in the Rue du Bac — where 4 Peace threatens to take
up her abode in the garden of our pretty pavilion,' Mr. Sidney
Starr quotes Whistler as saying — and the studio in the Rue
Notre-Dame-des-Champs, which I did not see until later on.
He was also planning his colour lithographs, and he explained
to me his methods, though very few colour-prints were made
until the next year. What he wanted was to use in litho-
graphy the Japanese method of colour-printing. He wished
to get the freshness of colour which is lacking in European
lithographs but which is the great beauty of Japanese colour-
prints. He made the complete drawing in the ordinary
manner, in black litho chalk, either on stone or paper, and
then settled in his mind the colour-scheme and the number of
colours to be employed. Instead of working as lithographers
previously worked, superimposing the colours, for example,
blue over yellow to get green, sometimes getting it and some-
times not, but always losing the freshness of a Japanese print,
he himself in the printing office, mixed just the green or
other colour he intended the printer to use. He then made
as many transfers from the original drawing on the stone
as there were to be colours in the completed print. He
scratched out, as the lithographer does, from one of the
transfers, all parts of the drawing save the red ; from
another all save the blue ; from a third, all save the brown ;
from a fourth, all save the yellow. The black or grey key
block was first printed, and then the colours. But there
1892] 135
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
was this difference : each colour, as in mosaic or a Japanese
print, fitted a space that was left for it, one was not placed
on top of another, so that, as in Japanese prints, the
colours would remain fresh and pure, and the surface of
the paper not be disturbed. Colour was applied in the most
personal manner, delicately, exquisitely, just a touch, a
suggestion in the roof, the shutters of a house, in the draperies
of the model, but even for this delicacy, three, five, and, in
the most elaborate, six printings were required. He also
told me what he thought of printing etchings in colour —
simply, that it was abominable, vulgar, and stupid. Good
black or brown ink, on good old paper, had been good enough
for Rembrandt, it was good enough for him, and it ought to
be good enough in the future for the few people who care
about etching. To-day, when the world is swamped with
the childish print in colour, it may be well to remember
Whistler's words. His reason for rejecting the etching in
colour is as simple and rational as his reason for making the
lithograph in colour. Lithography is a method of surface
printing ; the colour, rolled on to the surface of the stone,
is merely rubbed on to, or scraped off on, the paper. In
etching or engraving, the colour is first hammered into the
engraved plate with a dabber and then forced out by excessive
pressure, fatal to any but the strongest or purest of blacks
and of browns ; and colours, whether printed from one plate
or a dozen, must have the freshness, the quality, squeezed
out of them.
" He was again in London at the end of December (1892)
eating his Christmas dinner with his future brother-
in-law. He stayed only a few days, but long enough to
arrange to show his beautiful little-known Lady Meux : White
and Black — in the first exhibition of the Grafton Gallery,
early in 1893, and a number of his Venice etchings with the
destroyed plates at the Fine Art Society's. We went back
136 [1893
WHISTLER AT HIS PRINTING PRESS IN THE RUE NOTRE DAME DES CHAMPS, PARIS
PARIS
to Paris for the Salon of 1893, and found Whistler well
settled in the Rue du Bac. Neither he nor Rodin came to the
Vernissage, but I remember the magnificent apparition of
Carolus-Duran, gorgeous to behold. Zola was there, and
everybody climbed on chairs to see him. This was the year
when Aman-Jean arranged the hair of Madame Aman-Jean
low down on each side of her face, not only painting her so,
but bringing her to the Vernissage. The sensation she
produced was so great that every woman in Paris who could
followed this new and charming fashion. Beardsley, MacColl
and ' Bob ' Stevenson were with us.
" MacColl and I went to see Whistler at once in the new
studio. It was at the top of one of the highest buildings in
the Rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs, No. 86. As the concierge
said, in directing visitors, ' On ne pent pas aller plus loin que
M. Vistlaire I ' The climb always seemed to me endless,
and must have done much harm to Whistler, whose heart
was weak, though benches were placed on some of the landings
where, if he had time, he could rest. When we got to the
sixth storey, MacColl knocked. There was a rapid move-
ment across the floor, and the door was opened a little.
But when he saw us it was thrown wide open, and we were
welcomed.
" The studio was a big bare room, the biggest studio
Whistler ever had — a simple tone of rose on the walls ; a
lounge, a few chairs, a white-wood cabinet for the little
drawings and prints and pastels ; the blue screen with the
river, the church, and the gold moon ; two or three easels,
nothing on them ; rows and rows of canvases on the floor,
all with their faces to the wall ; in the further corner, a
printing press — rather, a printing shop, with inks and papers
on shelves ; a little gallery above, a room or two opening
off ; a model's dressing-room under it ; and in front, when
you turned, the great studio window, with all Paris toward
1893] 137
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
the Pantheon over the Luxembourg gardens. There was
another little room, or entrance-hall at the top of the stairs,
and opposite, another, a sort of kitchen. On the front was
a balcony with flowers.
" * Carmen,' his model, had been posing, and, while he
showed us some of his work, she got breakfast, and we stayed a
good part of the day. Mrs. Whistler came up later. I think
she breakfasted with us. I have no recollection of what he
talked about. But I am sure it was of what they had been
saying in London, of what they were saying in Paris, of what
he was doing. That is what it always was. We were all
asked to lunch the following Sunday at the house.
" The apartment, No. 110 Rue du Bac, was on the right-
hand side, just before you reached the Bon Marche going
up the street from the river. You went through a big porte
cocker e by the concierge box, down a long covered tunnel,
then between high walls, until you came to a little courtyard
with several doors — a bit of an old frieze in one place and a
drinking fountain. Whistler's door was not to be mistaken
— painted blue, with a brass knocker. I do not suppose that
then there was another like it in Paris. Inside, you were
on a little landing with three or four steps down to the floor,
a few feet lower than the courtyard. This room contained
nothing, or almost nothing, but some trunks (which, as in his
other houses, gave the appearance of his having just moved
in, or being just about to start on a journey) and a settee,
always covered with a profusion of hats and coats. Opposite
the entrance, a big door opened into a spacious room,
decorated in simple flat tones of blue, with white doors and
windows, furnished with a few Empire chairs and a couch,
a grand piano, and a table which, like the blue matting-
covered floor, was always littered with newspapers. Once
in a while there was a single picture of his on the wall. For
some time, the Venus, one of the Projects, hung or stood about.
138 [1893
PARIS
There were doors to the right and left, and, on the far side,
another big door and big windows opened on a large, garden,
a real bit of the country in Paris. It stretched away, in
dense undergrowth, to several huge trees. Later, there was
a trellis over the door, designed by Mrs. Whistler, and there
were flowers everywhere — 4 In his roses he buried his troubles,'
Mr. Wuerpel writes of the garden ; and there were many
birds : among them, at one time, an awful mocking bird ;
at another time, a white parrot, which finally escaped, and,
in a temper, climbed up a tree where nobody could reach it,
and starved itself to death, to Whistler's grief. At the
bottom of the garden there were seats. The dining-room
was to the right of the drawing-room. It was equally simple,
in blue. Only there was blue and white china in a cupboard,
and a big dining-table, round which were more Empire chairs,
and in the centre a large, low blue and white porcelain stand,
on it always big bowls of flowers ; over it, hanging from the
ceiling, a huge Japanese something like a bird-cage.
" From Paris, in May, I went down to Caen and Coutances,
coming back a few weeks later. Beardsley was still in Paris,
or had returned, and we were both stopping at the Hotel de
Portugal et de 1'Univers, then known to every art student.
Wagner was being played at the Opera, almost for the first
time. Paris was very disturbed, there were demonstrations
against Wagner, really against Germany. We went, Beardsley
then wild about Wagner, and doing, I think, the drawing of
The Wagnerites. He had come over to get backgrounds in
the rose arbours and the dense alleys of the Luxembourg
gardens, where Whistler had made his lithographs. Coming
away from the Opera, we went across to the Caje de la Paix
at midnight. The first person we saw was Whistler. He
was with some people, but they left soon, and he joined us.
Beardsley also left almost at once, but not before Whistler
had asked us to come the next Sunday afternoon to the Rue
1893] 139
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
du Bac. Then, for the first time, I learned what he thought
of * sestheticism ' and * decadence.'
" ' Why do you get mixed up with such things ? Look at him ! —
he's just like his drawings — he's all hairs and peacock plumes —
hairs on his head — hairs on his finger ends — hairs in his ears —
hairs on his toes. And what shoes he wears — hairs growing out
of them ! '
I said, ' Why did you ask him to the Rue du Bac ? '
— ' Oh — well — well — well ! ' And then it was late, or early,
and the last thing was, ' Well, you'll come and bring
him too.'
" Years later, in Buckingham Street, Whistler met Beardsley
and got to like not only him, as everybody did, but his work.
One night, when Whistler was with us, Beardsley turned up,
as always when he went to see any one, with his portfolio
of his latest work under his arm. This time it held the
illustrations for The Rape of the Lock, which he had just made.
Whistler, who always saw everything that was being done,
had seen the Yellow Book, started in 1894 by Harland
and Beardsley, and he disliked it as much as he then
disliked both the editors ; he had also seen the illustrations
to Salome, disliking them too, probably because of Oscar
Wilde ; he knew many of the other drawings, one of which,
whether intentionally or unintentionally, was more or less a
reminiscence of Mrs. Whistler ; and he no doubt knew that
Beardsley had made a caricature of him, which one of the
Followers carefully left in a cab. When Beardsley opened
the portfolio, and began to show us the Rape of the Lock,
Whistler looked at them first indifferently, then with interest,
then with delight. And then he said slowly, ' Aubrey, I
have made a very great mistake — you are a very great artist.'
And the boy burst out crying. All Whistler could say, when
he could say anything, was ' I mean it — I mean it — I mean it.'
" On the following Sunday, that summer in Paris, Beardsley
140 [1893
PARIS
and I went to the Rue du Bac, Beardsley in a little straw hat
like Whistler's. Whistler was in the garden, and there were
many Americans ; and Arsene Alexandre, who then lived
in a tower, and Mallarme' ; some people from the British
Embassy ; and, presently, Mr. Jacomb Hood came, bringing
an Honourable Amateur, who asked the Whistlers, Beardsley
and myself to dinner at one of the cafts in the Champs-Elys6es.
As we left the Rue du Bac, Whistler whispered to me, ' Those
hairs — hairs everywhere 1 ' I said to him, ' But you were
very nice, and, of course, you'll come to dinner ! ' And, of
course, he never came.
" I was working in Paris, making drawings and etchings
of Notre-Dame. I had moved from the hotel to one of the
high old houses of lodgings and studios, with cabmen's cajis
and restaurants under them, on the Quai des Grands Augustins.
I had gone there because of the magnificent view of the
Cathedral. Most of the time I was at work up among the
Devils of Notre-Dame, using one of the towers as a studio
by permission of the Government and the Cardinal-Arch-
bishop. One morning — it was in June — I heard the puffing
and groaning of some one climbing slowly the endless winding
staircase, and the next thing I saw was Whistler. When he
got his breath and I had got over my astonishment, I either
began to ask why he had come, or he began to explain the
reason. He had learned where I was staying, and he said
he had been to the hotel, which was, well ! — I think it reminded
him of his own days au sixi&me, for that was the floor I was on.
He left a note written on the buvette paper, in which he said,
4 Jolly the place seems to be ! ' After he had climbed up
to my rooms, the patron told him where he possibly would
find me, and then the people at the foot of the tower said
I was up above.
" He told me why he had come. He was working on a
series of etchings of Paris. Some were only just begun, others
1893] 141
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
were ready to bite, but a number ought to be printed, and
would I come and help him ? Of course, I was pleased, and
I said I would. I remember taking him about among the
strange creatures that haunt the place : the old keeper with
his grisly tales of suicides and of how he stuck to the tower
all through the Commune, even when the church was set on
fire ; the awful bell that, at noon, suddenly crashed in your
ears ; the uncanny cat that used to perch on crockets and
gargoyles, and try to catch sparrows with nothing at all
below her, and make, from one parapet to another, flying cuts
over space when visitors came up ; and the horrid chimerae
themselves. He did not like it, and was not happy until
we were safely seated in the back room of a restaurant just
across the street. He talked about the printing, saying that
I could help him, and he could teach me.
" Next morning I was at the Rue du Bac at nine. After
I had waited for what seemed hours, and had breakfasted with
him and Mrs. Whistler, and we had had our coffee and a
cigarette in the garden, where there was a little table and an
American rocking-chair for him — well, after this, it was too
late to go to the studio. He brought out some of the plates
which he had been working on — the plates of little shops in
the near streets and we looked at them, and that was all.
So it went on the next day, and the next, until on the third
or fourth things came to a head, and I told him that, charming
as this life was, either we must print or I must go back to
my drawing. In five minutes we were in a cab, on our way
to the studio. He understood that, much as I admired his
work and appreciated him, I could not pay for this apprecia-
tion and admiration with my time. From the moment this
was plain between us, there was no interruption to our friend-
ship for the rest of his life.
* We set to work at the press Belfont had put up foi him.
He peeled down to his undershirt with short sleeves, and 1
142 [1893
PARIS
saw then, in his muscles, one reason why he was never tired.
He put on an apron. The plates, only slightly heated, if
heated at all, were inked and wiped, sometimes with-his hand,
at others with a rag, till nearly clean, though a good tone
was left. He really painted the plate with his hand that day.
I got the paper ready on the press and pulled the proof, he
inking and I pulling all the afternoon. As each proof came
off the press, he looked at it, not satisfied, for they were all
weak, and saying, ' we'll keep it as the first proof, and it will
be worth something some day.' Then he put the prints
between sheets of blotting-paper, and that night, or the next,
after dinner, trimmed them with scissors, and put them back
between the folded sheets of blotting-paper which were
thrown round on the table and on the floor. Between the
sheets, the proofs dried naturally and were not squashed flat.
" The printing went on for several days, he getting more
and more dissatisfied, until I found an old man, Lamour, at
the top of an old house in the Rue de la Harpe, who could
reground the plates. But Whistler did not rebite them, and
never touched them until long after in England.
" A number of plates had never been bitten, and one hot
Sunday afternoon he brought them in the garden at the
Rue du Bac. A chair was placed under the trees, and on
it a wash-basin, into which each plate was put. Instead of
pouring the diluted acid all over the plate in the usual fashion
drops were taken up from the bottle on a feather, and the
plate practically painted with the acid. The acid was
coaxed, or, rather, used as one would use water-colour, dragged
and washed about. Depth and strength were got by simply
leaving a drop of acid on the lines where these effects were
needed. There was little stopping-out of passages where
greater delicacy was required ; when there was any, the
stopping-out varnish was thinned with turpentine, and
Whistler, with a camel's hair brush, painted over the parts
1893] 143
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
that did not need further biting. To me, it was a revelation.
Sometimes he drew on the plate. Instead of the huge
crowbar used by most etchers, he worked with a perfectly
balanced, beautifully designed little needle, three or four
inches long, made for him by an instrument maker in Paris.
He always carried several in a little silver box. The grounds
on all the plates were bad and came off, and the proofs he
pulled afterwards in the studio were not at all what he
wanted. These were almost the last plates he ever etched.
" He was not painting very much then, only a few people
came to the studio, and he went out little. No one was in
the Rue du Bac but Mrs. Whistler for a while, and there
were complications with the servants — how people who kept
such hours, or no hours, could keep servants would have been
a mystery, had not servants worshipped him. Almost daily
the petit bleu asking me to dinner would come to my lodgings.
Or else Whistler would appear early in the morning, if I had
not been to him the day before. In those early days in June,
I seldom met any one at the house, and he never dressed for
dinner, possibly because I had no dress clothes with me : he
would insist on my coming, telling me not to mind the stains
or the ink-spots ! One evening in the garden with them,
I found a little man, a thorough Englishman, in big spectacles,
with a curious sniff, who was holding a hose and watering
the plants. He was introduced to me as Mr. Webb, Whistler's
solicitor, though, in the process, we came near being drenched
by the wobbling hose. It was that evening I first heard the
chant of the Missionary Brothers from behind the great wall
beyond the trees. A bell sounded, and, as the notes died
away, a wailing chant arose, went on for a little, then died
away as mysteriously as it came. Always, when it did come,
it hushed us. At dinner we should be cosy and jolly,
Whistler had said in asking me, and we were, and it was
arranged that we should go the next day to Fontainebleau.
144
PARIS
" They called for me at the hotel in the morning. We
drove to the Lyons station, Whistler, his wife, Mr. Webb and I.
And Whistler had the little paint-box which always went with
him, though on these occasions it was the rarest thing that
he ever did anything — and we got to Fontainebleau. We
lunched in a garden. We didn't go to the Palace, but drove
to Barbizon, stopping at Siron's, and through the forest.
I don't think the views or the trees interested him at all.
He was very quiet all the way, but no sooner were we back
than we must hunt for ' old things ' : here was a Palace,
and great people had lived here, there might be silver, there
might be blue and white, — ' though really now, you know
you can find better blue and white, and cheaper silver, under
the noses of the Britons, in Wardour Street, than anywhere.'
We did not find any blue and white, or silver. But there
were three folio volumes of old paper containing a collection
of dried leaves — which we bought and shared. He printed
lithographs on his share, and I have mine. But those three
volumes were to him more valuable than all the Palace, and
the Millet studio which we never saw.
" It was late when we got back. His servants had gone
to bed, and Marguery's and the places where he liked to dine
were shut. So we bought what we could in the near shops
and sat down in the Rue du Bac to eat the supper we had
collected. After we had finished, I witnessed his and Mrs.
Whistler's wills which Mr. Webb had brought with him from
London, and for this the long day had been a preparation.
" If I did not always accept Whistler's invitations, he
would reproach me as an awful disappointment and a bad
man. If I did not go to the dinner, to which I was bidden
at an hour's notice, he would tell me afterwards of the much
cool drink and encouraging refreshment he had prepared
for me. He always asked me to bring my friends. Mr. J.
Fulleylove had come over to ' do ' Paris, and I took him to
1893] ii :K 145
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
the Rue du Bac — * les Pleins d? Amour? Whistler called him
and Mrs. Fulleylove, whose eyes he was always praising.
They were working at St. Denis, and so was I, and one day
Whistler and Mrs. Whistler came in the primitive steam tram
that starts from the Madeleine to see the place. We lunched
— badly — and he was bored with the church, though he had
brought lithograph paper and colours to make a sketch of it.
" One Sunday, Mr. E. G. Kennedy's portrait was painted
in the garden on a very small canvas or a panel, and all the
world was kept out on that occasion. I had never before
seen Whistler paint. He worked away all afternoon, hissing
to himself, which, Mrs. Whistler said, he did only when
things were going well. If Kennedy shifted — there were no
rests — Whistler would scream, and he worked on, and on,
and the sun went down ; and Kennedy stood, and Whistler
painted, and the monks began their chant, and darkness
was coming on. The hissing stopped — a paint rag came out
— and, with one fierce dash, it was all rubbed off. * Oh, well,'
was all he said. Kennedy was limbered up, and we went
to dinner.
" After that, almost every night we dined together through
that lovely June : either with him in the Rue du Bac, or he
came with us to Marguery's or to La Perouse— once to St.
Germain — or somewhere that was delightful.
" The summer was famous in Paris as that of the * Sarah
Brown Students' Revolution,' the row that grew out of the
Quatz' Arts Ball. When I went to the Rue du Bac, I used
to tell Whistler of the doings on the BouP Mich' and around
St. Germain des Pr6s. Wisely, he would not go out to see
the disturbances, but I had to walk through the length of the
Quartier to get to him. Then I spent some evenings in the
midst of it all at the CafS Clunywith Octave Uzanne,Renouard
and Buhot. Processions, with * Sally ' Brown — she was a
model — at the head, would march down the BouF Mich'
146 [1893
PARIS
solemnly chanting * Conspuez Loze ' — the Prejet — pass over
the bridge, and bring up in front of the Prefecture of Police,
out of which a sortie of police on horseback and on foot would
come. At once the demonstrators, until then warlike as
possible, would be transformed into peaceable citizens taking
their coffee and petits verres at the surrounding cajis.
" After some nights of this, when one or two people got
killed, windows were smashed and kiosques were burned,
Belleville and Montmartre hurried over to take part in the
fun, which culminated on the Fourth of July — my birthday.
Whistler proposed to celebrate both together, and we were
to meet at six and dine somewhere — Marguery's, I think.
All day painters and students had been demonstrating. It
was great fun. They chivvied a policeman, somebody threw
a brick at him, he called, and, the next thing, down the
street charged a mounted squadron. They dodged into an
open doorway, shut it behind them, and, when the soldiers
had passed, went out, chivvied another policeman, and
the same thing happened all over again. In the evening,
as I came up to St. Germain des Pre"s, I saw an enormous
crowd pour out of one of the narrow streets. There were
students, rapins male and female, at the head, but all round
in a solid mass, was a crowd — the dregs of Paris, a crowd
I have never seen before or since — and the chant of the
students was drowned by the Carmagnole. When they
reached the square, every shop was shut, not before the
windows of many were broken, and the students had vanished.
They seized the caje tables and threw them across the streets
and the Boulevard. They rushed to the trees, tore up the
gratings, raised them in their sections, dashed them on the
asphalt, which cracked, and the iron-work broke into battle
axes. In a minute they were armed. Over went the news-
paper-kiosques, old ladies and all, and they were dragged
across the streets. A cart of bricks passed, the traces were
1893] 147
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
cut, and the bricks dumped in the middle of the Rue de Rennes.
A Montparnasse three-horse omnibus appeared : the horses
were taken out, and the passengers forced to get down, all
but one old gentleman, who announced that he had paid
his fare to the station, and there he was going ; two men
mounted on top, took away the umbrella he was pointing his
speech with, hooked it in his collar, and carefully lowered him
into the crowd below. The omnibus and then a tram were
smashed and the place was barricaded. For two reasons
I thought I had better leave ; there was no pretended Entente
Cordiale in those days, and it was dinner-time.
" Whistler, when I arrived at the house, ridiculed the
affair, but he decided all the same to dine at home, and to
put off by telegram the dinner he had ordered. I went round
to the Boulevard St. Germain again to send the wire, and
found it barred with soldiers and police, and the entire Boule-
vard, as far as one could see, littered with all sorts of hats
and caps, sticks and umbrellas. There had been a cavalry
charge and this was the result.
" We dined merrily, but Kennedy and I left early.
" There was a great deal of rioting through the night, but
that was the end of it, for regiments were bivouacked all up
and down the streets.
" Mrs. Whistler had not been very well lately, and they
suddenly made up their minds to go to Brittany, or Nor-
mandy, or somewhere on the coast. It was not altogether
a successful journey. Nature had gone back on him, he
told me, in speaking of it, probably because of his exposure
of her ' foolish sunsets ' ; the weather was for tourists — the
sea for gold-fish in a bowl — the studio was better than staring
at a sea of tin. And the terrible things they had eaten in
Brittany made them ill. But the lithographs at Vitre* were
made, also the Yellow House, Lannion, and the Red House,
Paimpol ; his first elaborate essays in colour.
148 [1893
LITHOGRAPH
PARIS
** Only a few impressions of the Yellow House were ever
pulled, owing, it is said, to some accident to the stone. One
of these I wanted to buy. Whistler heard of it. * Well, you
know, very flattering, but altogether absurd,' he told me,
and the print came with an inscription and the Butterfly."
1893] 149
CHAPTER XXXVIII. PARIS CONTINUED.
THE YEARS EIGHTEEN NINETY-THREE
TO EIGHTEEN NINETY-FOUR
AFTER this summer, we both of us saw still more of
Whistler, whenever we were in Paris. At the Rue
du Bac, we were always struck by the small number of
French artists at his Sunday afternoons and the pre-
dominance of Americans and English. Indeed, it always
seemed to us that French artists might have been more cordial
and the French nation more responsive to the fact that so
distinguished a foreign artist had come to live in France.
During his lifetime at least one or two Americans, one a rich
amateur, were made Commanders of the Legion of Honour,
while he remained an officer. Others were made foreign
Members of the Academy of Fine Arts, but this, the highest
honour available for artists in France, was never offered
to him.
With a few French artists his relations were friendly,
Boldini, Helleu, Puvis de Chavannes, Rodin, Alfred Stevens,
Aman- Jean. But the greater number were content to express
their appreciation at a distance. Mrs. Whistler spoke little
French,^ which, naturally, was an impediment to closer
intercourse, though, as will presently be seen, another reason
for this want of cordiality is given by Mr. Walter Gay, whose
knowledge of social life in Paris is far greater than ours.
Some of the Frenchmen of whom Whistler saw most were
not painters. Vie'le'-Griffin, Octave Mirbeau, Arsene Alex-
andre, the Comte de Montesquiou, Rodenbach were among
150 [1893
PARIS
those who were to be met at the Rue du Bac. Old friends,
M. Drouet and M. Duret, were sometimes there, though not
very often ; his intimacy with them and M. Oulevey was
not really renewed until after Mrs. Whistler's death. But
of all who came, none endeared himself so much to Whistler
as St£phane Mallarme", the poet, critic, friend and sincere
admirer. Once, at Whistler's suggestion, he visited us in
London, and, looking from our windows to the Thames,
declared he could understand Whistler the better. Official
people strayed in from the Embassies, mostly English.
American authors and American collectors appeared on
Sundays. Mr. Howells, once or twice, came with his son and
daughter, of whom Whistler made a lithograph. Journalists,
English and American, had a way of wandering in.
On the other hand, English and American artists dropped
in to the garden at the Rue du Bac daily and in numbers.
The younger men of the Glasgow school came, more especially
James Guthrie and John Lavery. Then there were the
Americans living in Paris : Walter Gay, Alexander Harrison,
Frederick MacMonnies, Edmund H. Wuerpel, John W.
Alexander, Humphreys Johnston, while Sargent and Abbey
rarely missed an opportunity of calling at the Rue du Bac.
If Whistler welcomed artists of standing, he was hardly less
cordial to students who were serious in their work. Mil-
cendeau has told us how, taking his work — and his courage
— with him, he went to see Whistler, but reaching the door
stood there trembling at the thought of meeting the great
master and showing his drawings. As soon as Whistler saw
the drawings, his manner was so charming — as if they were
just two artists together — that fear was forgotten, and
Whistler ultimately proved his interest by inviting Milcendeau
to send the drawings to the International. Whistler met
American and English students not only at the Rue du Bac
but at the American Art Association in Montparnasse, then
1893]
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
a bit of old Paris : a little white house with green shutters,
which the street &ad long since left on a lower level, and,
at the back, a garden where under the great trees the cloth
was laid in summer ; just the house to please Whistler. He
often went to the club's dinners and celebrations. At one
dinner on Washington's Birthday, after the popular professors
and politicians had delivered their speeches, he was un-
expectedly called upon to speak. It came as an inspiration,
he said, and he contrasted the conditions in the schools on the
two sides of the Channel :
" Tradition in England has not yet been recognised, and you
go as you please. In France, where tradition is respected, the
student at least is taught which end of the brush should go on
the canvas and which in his mouth, but in England — well — there
it is purely a matter of taste."
Mr. MacMonnies remembers another evening :
" A millionaire friend of Whistler's and mine spoke to me of
giving a dinner to the American artists in Paris, or rather to
Whistler, and inviting the Paris American artists. I dissuaded
him, by saying they all hated one another and would pass the
evening more cheerfully by sticking forks into one another under
the table if they could. Better to invite all the young fry — the
American students. He gladly went into it. You can imagine
the wild joy of the small fry, who had, of course, never met
Whistler. Some got foolishly drunk, others got bloated with
freshness, but they all had a rare time, and Whistler, who sat
at the head, more than any, and he was delightfully funny. The
millionaire was enchanted, and also a distinguished American
painter, who sat opposite to Whistler, and who was much respected
by the youth. At one pause, he said : * Mr. Whistler, I went
to the Louvre this morning ' — pause — all the youths' faces wide
open, expecting pearls of wisdom and points — ' and I was
amazed ! ' — pause — everybody open-eared — ' to see the amazing
way they kept the floors waxed ! ' ''
A story is told of his going, one day at lunch time, into
the court of the Ecole des Beaux- Arts, and finding himself
152 [1893-
CAMJ:OS
PARIS
followed by a line of students solemnly keeping step and
looking at everything he did. He continued his walk, and
so did they, and they bowed each other out at the gate,
before they knew who he was. But American students of
the Quartier are said almost to have mobbed him, climbing
over everything to see him, when he went to their restaurant.
Whistler was recognised, looked up to, by the Americans of
the new generation, and was personally loved and respected by
them, just as his work filled them with respect and admiration.
Mr. Walter Gay, whose reputation as a distinguished artist
was then already made, and who felt the extraordinary charm
of the man and the importance of his work, writes us :
"I first knew Whistler in the winter of '94, when he was
established in Paris, with the recently married Mrs. Whistler, in
his apartment of the Rue du Bac. The marriage was a happy
one ; she appreciated fully his talent, he adored her, and when
she died a few years later, was crushed at her loss. In spite of
the great influence exercised by Whistler on contemporary art,
he was never lionised in Paris as he had been in London ; Paris
is not the place for lions ; there are already too many local cele-
brities. With few exceptions, the French artists did not frequent
him. I remember Duez saying d propos of Whistler's slight
relations with his French confreres : ' II vaut mieux croire au
Christ que de le voir. Perhaps one of the reasons why the French
artists held aloof from Whistler was Mrs. Whistler's very British
attitude towards that nation. Once, at a dinner of French
artists given at our house in honour of Whistler, Mrs. Whistler
expressed the most Gallophobe sentiments, complaining loudly
of the inhospitality of the French towards her husband. Whistler's
social circle in Paris consisted of Mallarm6, Robert de Montes-
quieu, Viele-Griffin and Theodore Duret, one or two American
artists, and a large following of American art students. He had
a great charm for youth ; the society of young people brought out
his best qualities, and they were fascinated by his personal
magnetism. He used to give delightful breakfasts in the Rue du
Bac, the table always tastefully decorated by the master of the
house with dainty * arrangements ' in old ' blue and white,' in
eighteenth-century silver and flowers— everywhere in the apart-
1894] 153
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
ment the touch of the man of taste was visible. Whistler was
subtle to a degree : he had a finesse rarely found in the Anglo-
Saxon race. Although well over sixty years when I knew him —
[he was just sixty in 1894] — he had the enthusiasm and energy of
the early years. His very handsome grey-blue eyes still sparkled
with the fire of youth — they were young eyes in an old face. I
think it strange that'no one ever seems to emphasise his singular
beauty. Not only were his features finely cut, but the symmetry
of his figure, hands and feet, retained until late in life, was re-
markable ; in youth he must have been a pocket Apollo. I never
thought Whistler's wit of a high order ; it was not spontaneous.
His conversational powers were, however, extraordinary — he had
a Celtic richness of vocabulary. But he was intensely amusing on
the subject of his quarrels, and these afforded full opportunity
for his undoubted eloquence. As precious as was his fame,
artistic and literary, to him, his famous fights, both with tongue
and pen, seemed to arouse even deeper sentiments. His anger
at Du Maurier, for the not too amiable sketch of him in the first
edition of Trilby, was violent enough. But the Sir William Eden
case stirred the very depths of his being. When relating the oft-
told tale to me, he used to grasp my arm with such frenzy, in
order to impress his point upon me, that he almost seemed to
mistake me for the offending Baronet. His combativeness may
be traced directly to his Irish blood. But besides atavistic pug-
nacity, another casus belli was his super-sensitiveness to any
kind of criticism. Those who were either indifferent or anti-
pathetic to him, his imagination instantly transformed into
hidden enemies. That weakness of the artistic temperament,
la folie de la persecution, was deeply rooted in his nature. The
South African War was also a burning topic with him for many
months. He was, of course, pro-Boer in his sympathies, as, in
any conflict in which England had been engaged, he would have
been sure to have ranged himself on the side of her adversary.
This ungracious attitude towards England was, I think, partly pose,
partly caused by the English inability to appreciate his subtlety.
And yet Whistler would never have attained his prestige as a
celebrity had he not lived in London.
" No one can realise, who has not watched Whistler paint, the
agony that his work gave him. I have seen him, after a day's
struggle with a picture, when things did not go, completely col-
lapse, as from an illness. [His drawing cost him infinite trouble.
154 [1894
PORTRAIT OF MISS KINSELLA
/
Rose and Green, The Ins
PARIS
I have known him work two weeks on a hand, and then give it
up discouraged. It was no uncommon thing for him to require
eighty to a hundred sittings for a portrait. His painting-table
was a curious study, meticulously laid out, and scrupulously neat.
My last interview with Whistler took place in the spring of 1903,
in London, about two months before his death. Hearing that
he was far from well, I went to see him, and found that the rumour
was only too well grounded. I spent the afternoon with him —
he was singularly gentle and affectionate, and clung to me pathetic-
ally, as though he too realised that it was to be our last meeting
in this world.
" Whatever his detractors may charge against him, it seems to
me that Whistler's faults and weaknesses sprang from an un-
balanced mentality ; he was a desequilibre, the common defect
of great painters. The unusual combination of artistic genius,
literary gifts and social attractions which made up Whistler's
personality, was unique ; there was never anybody like him.
And there is another quality of his which must not be forgotten
in the summing up of his character : underneath all his vagaries
and eccentricities, one felt that indefinable yet unmistakable
being — a gentleman."
Mr. Alexander Harrison shows a very different side of
Whistler in the following note :
" I chanced to call upon him an hour after he had received the
news of his brother's death, and with quivering voice and tears
in his eyes, he told me that he considered me a friend, and told
me the sad news, and asked me to dine with him. My meetings
with him were frequent and friendly. On one occasion, in a
moment of excitement I had the audacity to tell him that I felt
that he ought to have acted differently vis-d-vis a jury of reception.
His eyes flamed like a rattlesnake's, and I apologised, but insisted
and then dodged a little, I afterwards realised that my naive
frankness had not lowered me in his esteem, as to the last he was
nice to me — having realised that my admiration for his work was
no greater than my affectionate regard for his sensitive and
courageous human temperament — at times a child of impulsiveness.
" I have never known a man of more sincere and genuine im-
pulse even in ordinary human relations, and I am convinced that
no man ever existed who could have been more easily controlled
1894] 155
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
on lines of response to a ' fair and square ' appreciation of his
genuine qualities. When off his guard, he was often a pathetic
kid, and I have spotted him in bashful moods, although it would
be hard to convince the bourgeois of this. Wit, pathos, gentle-
ness, affection, audacity, acridity, tenacity, were brought instantly
to the sensitive surface like a flash, by rough contact."
Now that Whistler was well established, for life as he
hoped, in a fine studio, he was making up for the unsettled
years that followed his marriage. He began a number of
large portraits in the Rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs. In
1893, Mr. A. J. Eddy, known, we believe, to fame and Chicago
as the man Whistler painted, asked Whistler to do his por-
trait. He could stay in Paris only a few weeks, and Whistler
liked his straightforward American frankness in saying that
his portrait must be done by a certain date, and, though
unaccustomed to be held by any limitations of time, Whistler
agreed to the conditions. His description of Mr. Eddy was,
" Well, you know, he is the only man who ever did get a
picture out of me on time, while I worked and he waited ! "
Mr. Eddy writes of a sitter, no doubt himself, who was with
Whistler ** every day for nearly six weeks and never heard
him utter an impatient word ; on the contrary, he was all
kindness." And Mr. Eddy describes Whistler painting on
in the twilight, until it was almost impossible to distinguish
between the living man and the figure on the canvas. He
revels in the memory of those " glorious " days he spent in
the studio, of the pleasant hour at noon when painter and
sitter breakfasted there together, or of the prolonged sittings,
and the dinner afterwards at the Rue du Bac, or in one of
the little Paris restaurants, where no Parisian was more at
home than Whistler. But steadily as the work went on,
the picture was not sent to Chicago until the following year.
Mr. J. J. Cowan, whose portrait also dates from this time,
tells us that for The Grey Man, though it is a small
156 [1894
STUDIES FOR "WEARY1
(Charcoal Drawings)
WEARY
(Dry-point)
PARIS
picture, he must have given Whistler about sixty sittings,
averaging each three to four hours. He, like Whistler, was
not in a hurry. The last sittings were in London, three
years after the picture was begun. It always seemed as if
the head needed just the one touch, with the sitter there,
so that perfection might be assured.
The portraits of women were more numerous, and they
promised to be as fine as those of the 'seventies and 'eighties.
But the work was interrupted by the tragedy of Whistler's last
years, and the more important were never completed. Two
have disappeared. For one of these, Miss Charlotte Williams of
Baltimore, sat, of whom, nevertheless, a rare lithograph exists.
The other lost portrait was a large full-length of Miss Peck
of Chicago, now Mrs. W. R. Farquhar, which we saw often,
in many stages, and at last, it seemed to us, finished. Miss
Peck was painted standing, in evening dress, with her long
white, green-lined cloak thrown back, a little as he had painted
Lady Meux. It was full of the charm of youth, and the
colour was a harmony in silver and green. Miss Kinsella,
a third American girl who first posed in the Rue Notre-
Dame-des-Champs, and afterwards in Fitzroy Street, London,
secured her portrait after Whistler's death, when it was a
mere phantom of its former self, painted over and over, and
yet left unfinished, though it still conveys an impression of
the first splendid beauty of the picture, and the charm of
the colour scheme, Rose and Green, remains. We saw it
in the Fitzroy Street studio when it was so perfect that one
more day's work seemed to us a danger. But Whistler
scraped it out and painted it over ruthlessly, never satisfied,
always striving to improve, though nobody could help, at
one moment, feeling that to change anything must be to the
picture's disadvantage. In no other portrait did he ever
paint flesh with such perfection. Face and neck had the
rich golden quality of a Titian, with a subtlety of modelling
1894]
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
beyond even the Venetian master. One day, when E. went
to the studio, he had just scraped down neck and bust
for no other reason she could discover than because he could
not get the hand to come right with the rest of it. It was
to be lovelier than ever, he said. It retains but a shadow
of its old loveliness. When M. Rodin saw it at the London
Memorial Exhibition, he praised neck and bust as " a beau-
tiful suggestion of lace," so badly disfigured by scraping and
repainting had this most perfect piece of flesh-painting
become. Portraits of Mrs. Charles Whibley were in progress
about the same time : IS Andalouse, Mother of Pearl and
Silver, now the property of Mr. John H. Whittemore, the
unfinished Tulip, Rose and Gold, and Red and Black, The
Fan. Two others of this period are of Mrs. Walter Sickert,
Green and Violet, the second for which she sat, and Lady
Eden, Brown and Gold, destined to make more talk than any
other picture he ever painted. He was also painting his own
portrait in the white jacket which was changed into a dark
coat after Mrs. Whistler's death.
The large canvases had to be left when he shut the studio
door behind him, but wherever he went, he could carry his
little portfolio of lithographic paper and box of chalks, and,
during those two or three years, he developed the art of
lithography as no one had before, he and Fantin-Latour being
the two chief factors in the revival of lithography during the
'nineties. He was determined, he said, to make " a roaring
success of it." In the streets and at home in the Rue du
Bac, everywhere and at all hours, he was making his drawings,
and the result is the series of lithographs of the shops and
gardens and galleries of Paris, and the many portraits,
especially of his wife. His interest in the technical side of
it was tireless. He continued to be indefatigable in his
experiments with transfer paper and in his pursuit of old paper
for printing. Drawings and proofs were continually going
158 [1894
PARIS
and coming between Paris and London, where the Ways were
now doing almost all the transferring and printing for him,
and friends were never allowed to go from the Rue du Bac
on their return to England, without being entrusted with a
package for the lithographers. He was deep, too, in his ex-
periments with colour, and a few of the lithographs for Songs
on Stone, already announced by Mr. Heinemann, were at
last done. But they were printed in Paris by Belfont, whose
shop was closed in 1894, printer and stones vanished, and
this was the end of the proposed publication. Since Whistler's
death, mysterious prints, in black-and-white, from some of
the stones have appeared in Germany. But only a few
prints in colour remain, no two alike, for they were really
trial pulls of different colours. He had looked for great things :
" You know, I mean them to wipe up the place before I get
done," he said, and their loss was a severe disappointment.
Other lithographs, made then or later, were published in
the Studio, the Art Journal, the Architectural Review,
UEstampe Originate, and one in our Lithography and
Lithographers. He never wanted to keep his work, no matter
in what medium, from the public. With the many com-
missions and experiments that were keeping him busy in
Paris, Whistler was truly, as he wrote to us in London,
working from morning to night, and in a condition for it he
wouldn't change for anything. He was compelled to change
it only too soon.
1894] 159
CHAPTER XXXIX. TRIALS AND GRIEFS.
THE YEARS EIGHTEEN NINETY-FOUR TO
EIGHTEEN NINETY-SIX
IN 1894, interruptions came to the happy condition of
things in the studio, some slight, but one so grave that
life and work were never quite the same to Whistler again.
One of the smaller annoyances was caused by Du Maurier's
novel Trilby, which was appearing in Harper's Magazine.
Du Maurier represented the English students at Carrel's
{Gleyre's) as veritable Crichtons, while Whistler, under the
name of Joe Sibley, was held up to ridicule. Du Maurier's
drawings left no doubt as to the identity of his model, for
there, in one, is Whistler, a full-length figure, wearing the
well-known chapeau bizarre over his curls. Du Maurier was
not content with this. Another drawing shows Whistler as
the first to run away in a studio fight, and the text is as
offensive. Joe Sibley is
" ' the Idle Apprentice,' the King of Bohemia, le roi dea truands,
to whom everything was forgiven, as to Frangois Villon, d cause de
ses gentittesses . . . always in debt . . . vain, witty, and a most
exquisite and original artist . . . with an unimpeachable moral
tone . . . also eccentric in his attire . . . the most irresistible
friend in the world as long as his friendship lasted — but that was
not for ever ! . . . his enmity would take the simple and straight-
forward form of trying to punch his ex-friend's head; and
when the ex-friend was too big, he would get some new friend to
help him. . . . His bark was worse than his bite ... he was
better with his tongue than his fists. . . . But when he met
another joker, he would just collapse like a pricked bladder.
He is now perched on such a topping pinnacle (of fame and
160 [189*
TRIALS AND GRIEFS
notoriety combined) that people can stare at him from two
hemispheres at once."
Whistler was the more indignant because Du Maurier had
been his friend for years, and he wrote in protest to the Pall
Mall Gazette. Du Maurier, in an interview which followed,
expressed surprise at Whistler's indignation. He thought
the description of Joe Sibley could only recall some of the
good times they had had together in Paris, and he seemed
amazed that Whistler did not delight in it. He claimed
that he himself was one of Whistler's victims, and quoted
from Sheridan Ford's pirated edition of The Gentle Art :
" It is rather droll. Listen : ' Mr. Du Maurier and Mr. Wilde
happening to meet in the rooms where Mr. Whistler was holding
his first exhibition of Venice etchings, the latter brought the two
face to face, and, taking each by the arm, inquired, " I say, which
one of you two invented the other, eh ? " ' The obvious retort to
that, on my part, would have been, that, if he did not take care,
I would invent him, but he had slipped away before either of us
could get a word out. ... I did what I did in a playful spirit
of retaliation for this little jibe about me in his book."
The Editor of Harper's had not understood the offensive
nature of the passages. Once Whistler called Messrs. Harper's
attention to it, they apologised :
" If we had had any knowledge of personal reference to yourself
being intended, we should not have permitted the publication of
such passages,"
and the apology was inserted in the January number of the
Magazine (1895). The name was changed to Anthony and
the objectionable passages altered when the story appeared
as a book. Whistler, consulted beforehand, was satisfied.
But, as he said :
" Well, you know, what would have happened to the new
Thackeray if I hadn't been willing ? But I was gracious, and I
gave my approval to the sudden appearance in the story of an
1894] ii :L 161
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Anthony, tall and stout and slightly bald. The dangerous
resemblance was gone. And I wired — well, you know, ha ! ha !
— I wired to them over in America, ' Compliments and complete
approval of author's new and obscure friend, Bald Anthony ! ' "
When Trilby was burlesqued at the Gaiety, Whistler was
brought on the stage as The Stranger. His hat, overcoat,
eyeglass, curls and cane were fairly well copied, but no one
paid the slightest attention, and The Stranger, we believe,
never appeared after the first night.
Many people thought Whistler over-sensitive. But the
success of 1892 had brought him the sort of attention in print
he least cared for, and was least willing to submit to. Despite
the steps he took in the case of Du Maurier, he was constantly
annoyed by what he considered perversions of his character
and his work. He was sometimes mistaken, as in the case of
a Bibliography, compiled in 1895 for the State Library Bulletin
of the University of the State of New York. It was under-
taken in appreciation of him as artist, but it contained in-
accuracies and it quoted as authorities critics he objected to,
and he was, unfortunately, more vexed by it than there
was really any need to be. Another source of annoyance
was, a little later, an unsigned article in McClure's Magazine,
entitled Whistler, Painter and Comedian. He demanded an
apology and suppression of the article, and both were granted
with the same courtesy shown by Messrs. Harper. And so
it went on to the very end, and he was continually coming
upon references to himself, disfigured by misunderstandings
and, as he thought, misrepresentations and malice.
All these worries occupied Whistler's time and tried his
temper. But they faded into nothing when he was over-
whelmed, late in 1894, by a trouble infinitely more serious and
tragic. His wife was taken ill with the most terrible of
diseases — cancer. They came to London to consult the
Doctors in December. Part of the time they stayed at Long's
162 [1895
02 <!
a i.
TRIALS AND GRIEFS
Hotel in Bond Street, Mrs. Whistler now surrounded by her
numerous sisters, the two Paris servants, Louise and Constant,
in attendance ; part of the time Mrs. Whistler was under a
doctor's care in Holies Street, and Whistler with his brother
and his brother's wife in Wimpole Street. Those who loved
Whistler would like to forget his misery during the weeks and
months that followed. We saw much of him. Work was
going on somehow : not the paintings, for they waited in
the Paris studio, but lithography was an unfailing resource
to him. He made many lithographs : a portrait of Lady
Haden, a drawing in Wellington Street, and others here and
there. But he told Mr. Way afterwards that he wanted
them destroyed, he should not have worked when his heart
was not in it — " it was madness on his part." He brought
proofs to show us. Almost every afternoon he would come,
and take J. to Way's, where the lithographs were being trans-
ferred to the stone and printed. He would lunch and dine
with us, always keeping up his brave outward appearance,
though we could not help knowing what was in his heart.
He had been in his " palatial residence " barely two years,
when it was closed, and the canvases were left untouched in
the " stupendous studio." New honours and new successes
followed fast upon the triumph of 1892 — in 1894, the Temple
Gold Medal from the Pennsylvania Academy, in 1895 a Gold
Medal from Antwerp, too many, indeed, to follow. And it
was now, just as fortune rose on the horizon, that the blow
fell, and new and heart-breaking responsibilities were heaped
upon his shoulders.
The Eden trial, which struck many as an unnecessary and
almost farcial episode in his life, distracted him during the
most tragic months, and his persistent tenacity over a matter
comparatively trivial may have been, as we have heard it
suggested, due to his endeavour to escape from the fears that
haunted him. His work practically ceased for weeks and
1894] 163
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
weeks at a time, and he forced himself to almost unnatural
concentration on the details of the case. His journeys to
Paris were frequent of necessity, and his correspondence with
people whom he wanted to consult and whose opinion he
wished to influence was enormous. The case was fought out
in the civil courts of France, which unfortunately allowed
Whistler no opportunity of giving personal testimony. The
object of the case is probably known to most people. It
arose out of the uncertainty as to the price which Sir
William Eden should pay for his wife's portrait. He was in-
troduced to Whistler by Mr. George Moore, to whom Whistler
had mentioned one hundred to one hundred and fifty pounds
for a sketch in water-colour or pastel. Whistler became
interested in his sitter, and produced a very fine little oil
painting, to which, under other circumstances, he would have
attached a far higher value than the sum suggested. His
irritation, therefore, can be understood when Sir William
Eden attempted to make him accept in payment as "a
valentine " — for it was paid on February 14 — the sum of
one hundred guineas. Whistler felt that it should have
been left to him, the artist, to decide. He refused to
give up the picture, and he returned the money only when
legal proceedings were taken by " the Baronet." Before
the case came into court, he went so far as to wipe out the
portrait, which, of course, prejudiced him in the eyes of the
judge.
Whistler was in Paris for the trial before the Civil Tribunal
on March 6 (1895). His advocates were Maitre Ratier, by
whose side he sat in court, and Maitre Beurdeley, a collector
of his etchings. Sir William Eden did not appear. Whistler
was ordered to deliver the portrait as originally painted, a
penalty to be imposed in case of undue delay ; to refund one
hundred guineas, the price of the portrait ; to pay in addition
one thousand francs damages. The judgment went on to
164 [1895
TRIALS AND GRIEFS
assert that he was in honour bound not to interfere with the
portrait after he had completed it, and to make it clear
that an artist, however prominent, must carry out his contract.
To Whistler, this judgment seemed unfair, and he decided
to appeal against it in the Cour de Cassation, which dragged
the matter on until after the great blow of Mrs. Whistler's
death had fallen. History repeats itself, and it is curious to
note that though, in England, " An Artist " tried to raise a
fund to pay the expenses of the trial, in order " to show in
some practical form artists' appreciation for the genius of
James McNeill Whistler," the effort, responded to by only
one other artist, Mr. Frederick MacMonnies, was as un-
successful as after the Ruskin trial in 1878.
Throughout the Eden affair, Mr. George Moore had been pro-
minent ; the go-between when the portrait was commissioned,
Sir William Eden's ally in the legal business, a conspicuous
figure in the various newspaper controversies. After the
trial Whistler wrote to him a scathing letter on the part he
had played. George Moore's answer was to twit Whistler
with old age. This was published in the Pall Matt Gazette and
reprinted in the French papers. Whistler was living in France
and had therefore no alternative but to send George Moore
the challenge which, in the French code of honour, was in-
evitable. Whistler's seconds were M. Octave Mirbeau and
M. Viele-Grifnn. Their challenge remained unheeded, and
reporters hurrying to George Moore's chambers in the Temple
found him flown. London was once more amused, and
looked upon the challenge as Whistler's crowning joke. It
was no joke to Mr. Moore, who was sufficiently conversant
with French manners to know how his silence must be inter-
preted in Paris. Whistler's seconds sent a proces verbal to
the press, to state that they had waited eight days for an
answer, and, not having received one, they considered their
mission terminated.
1895] 165
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Thus, before the world, Whistler kept up the game, though
in the Rue du Bac life was a tragedy. Mrs. Whistler had
returned more ill than ever. Miss Ethel Birnie Philip was
married from the house early in the summer to Mr. Charles
Whibley, and her sister, Rosalind, took her place in the
household.
After the trial, Whistler went back to work as best he could,
interesting himself in galleries and exhibitions. He sent
The Little White Girl to the International Exhibition at
Venice ; he exhibited the new portrait of Mrs. Sickert at the
Glasgow Institute ; he chose six lithographs for the Centenary
Exhibition to be held in Paris the following autumn. A
little head of " Carmen," his model, was ready for the Portrait
Painters. When, in the late summer, he returned to England,
and, with Mrs. Whistler, settled down for the fall at the Red
Lion Hotel in Lyme Regis, he arranged for a show of his own
lithographs in London. The Society of Illustrators, of which
he was a Vice-President, was preparing an anthology, The
London Garland, edited by W. E. Henley, illustrated by
members of the Society, and published by Messrs. Macmillan
and Co. At the first appeal from J. he agreed to contribute
an illustration to a sonnet of Henley's, with the intention of
making an original drawing for the book. But, in the end,
he had to abandon this plan and merely allowed a Nocturne to
be reproduced. He went on with his lithographs at Lyme
Regis, and made an extraordinary series, in which appear the
glowing forges, the dark stables, with horses an animal painter
would envy, and the portraits of the smith and the landlord.
" Absolute failures, some," he told us sadly ; " others, well,
you know, not bad ! " Two of the pictures painted there are
masterpieces : The Little Rose of Lyme Regis and The Master
Smith. In these, he always said he really had solved the
problem of carrying on his work as he wished to until it was
finished, and, technically, they are as accomplished as any-
166 [1895
THE LITTLE ROSE OF LYME REGIS
TRIALS AND GRIEFS
thing he ever did. It was then also he painted the only large
landscape we know of : a few white houses of the little town
with the hillside and trees beyond.
While he was at Lyme Regis the news came of the prize
awarded him in Venice. Several prizes in money were given
in different sections, for different subjects, to artists of different
nationalities. Whistler was awarded the prize of two thou-
sand five hundred francs, offered by the City of Murano,
which happened to come seventh in the list. He knew his
" enemies," foresaw the prattle there would be of the seventh-
hand compliment paid him, and forestalled this by explaining
in the press how the prizes had been awarded, his being equal
in importance to the first, the only difference being that it
came from another source.
The exhibition of his lithographs was held in December
(1895). Seventy were shown, mostly the work of the last
few years, and J. wrote the introduction to the catalogue,
the only time he allowed anybody to " introduce " him in this
fashion. There were no special decorations, but the prints
were all in frames of his designing. English artists had been
interested in lithography because they were asked to contribute
to the Centenary Exhibition in Paris, and, at the call of
Leighton, they tried their hands at it, more or less unsuccess-
fully. The contrast was great between their work, shown at
Mr. Dunthorne's gallery, and Whistler's, whose prints alone
are probably destined to live.
Whistler derived but little pleasure from this triumph.
The winter was spent in moving from place to place. At one
moment his plans were made to go to New York to consult
anjAmerican doctor, he forgetting as well as he could what he
called " the vast far-offness " of America, so impressive to
him hitherto when the journey had been thought of. In
London, they stayed first at Garlant's Hotel in Suffolk Street ;
then in apartments, Half Moon Street ; at De Vere Gardens
1895] 167
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Hotel, Kensington ; and at the Savoy. Work of one sort or
another marked these changes : much work in many mediums
at Lyme Regis ; the lithograph, Kensington Gardens, while
he was at the De Vere Hotel ; those most pathetic portraits
of his wife in lithography, The Siesta and By the Balcony, and
the lithographs of the Thames from the hotel windows, at
the Savoy. He had during the first months no studio in
London. He worked for a while in Mr. Walter Sickert's ;
Mr. Sargent lent his to Whistler early in 1896, when there
was talk of a lithograph of Cecil Rhodes and a portrait of
Mr. A. J. Pollitt, of whom he made a lithograph, though the
painting, which was splendidly begun later in Fitzroy Street,
was afterwards destroyed.
He still found time to interest himself in the experiments
of others. In the winter of 1895 J. was asked by the Daily
Chronicle to edit the illustration of a series of articles on London
in support of the County Council, then Progressive. It was an
event of importance to illustrators, process men and printers :
the first effort in England for the elaborate illustration of a
newspaper. The Daily Graphic was illustrated, but its
draughtsmen were trained to adapt their drawings to the
printer. The idea now was to oblige the printer to adapt
himself to the illustrator. Every illustrator of note in London
contributed. Burne- Jones' frontispiece to Morris* News
from Nowhere was enlarged and printed successfully. J.
asked Whistler to let him try the experiment of enlarging
one of the Thames etchings. Whistler was interested.
Black Lion Wharf was selected from the Thames Set, and was
printed in the Daily Chronicle, February 22, 1895, the very
day of the month, Washington's Birthday, when, ten years
later, the London Memorial Exhibition of his work was
opened. With its publication, the success of the series
was complete, not politically, for the twenty-four drawings
were said to have lost the Progressives twenty-five seats,
168 [1895
TRIALS AND GRIEFS
but artistically. The etching stood the test of enlarging
superbly, silencing any doubts of Whistler as draughtsman.
Whistler came to us almost daily, especially during his stay
at the Savoy, in 1896, when we were neighbours. Late one
afternoon he brought his lithographic paper, and made a por-
trait of J. as he sprawled comfortably, and uncomfortably had
to keep up the pose, in an easy-chair before the fire. Whistler
made four portraits in succession of J. and one of E., each the
work of an afternoon. He worked on into the darkness,
especially in the portrait of E., done while the firelight flickered
on her face and on his paper. He told us he had taken a
studio in Fitzroy Street, so that he could paint a large full-
length portrait of J. in a Russian cloak — The Russian Schube —
which he thought it probable the Pennsylvania Academy of
Fine Arts might like to have. But J. was called away from
town, Mrs. Whistler grew rapidly worse, and the scheme
was dropped, never to be taken up again.
On other afternoons he and J. would go to Way's, where
the new Savoy drawings were put on the stone. One, how-
ever, the large lithotint of The Thames, was done on a stone
sent to him at the hotel. Old drawings made in Paris, Lyme
Regis, London, were taken up on the stone, and gone all over
with chalk and stump and scraper. He worked in a little
drawing-room adjoining Mr. Thomas Way's office, the walls
of which were covered with pastels and water-colours by him
and Holloway. There he drew the portraits of Mr. Thomas
Way, as he stood, lit by the fire alone, and also subjects seen
from the windows, working until dark, when Mr. Way would
bring out some rare old liqueur, and there was a rest before
Whistler hurried back to the Savoy. His nights were spent
mostly in sitting up with his wife. He slept a little in the
morning, and usually returned to us in the afternoon, and there
were times when he seemed so exhausted that we wondered
if the end were not nearer for him than for Mrs. Whistler.
1895] 169
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
The studio at No. 8 Fitzroy Street was a huge place at the
back of the house, one flight up, and reached by a ramshackle
glass-roofed passage. The portrait of Mr. Pollitt was started
and one of Mr. Robert Barr's daughter, which also has dis-
appeared. Mr. Cowan sat again for his, and one was begun
of Mr. S. R. Crockett, who has sent us, in reply to our
inquiries concerning his sittings, the following interesting
letter :
" Alas ! I never keep letters, that being (though not from your
present point of view) my only virtue. I have none, therefore, of
Whistler's. He usually wrote on scraps of brown paper of
various shapes, cut by himself from the surroundings of panels.
I may find some of these when I get my files undone. If so, you
shall have them. He confined himself, however, with curious
parsimony of words, to indications as to where we were to lunch.
Whistler was good enough to ask me to lunch every day on the
terms of what he called a ' Jersey treat,' that is, we were each to
pay for ourselves ! This was, however, difficult for the waiter,
to whom Whistler explained with unmoved countenance that I
had really eaten nine-tenths of the meal and should be charged
accordingly. ' You have only to look on that picture,' he said,
pointing at me, * and on this ! ' Finally, we compromised by
paying for our lunches day about. And I hunted up decent places
to take ' the Master.' I felt the honour, I can assure you, and I
had to take my davy that the wine did not cost more than three
shillings a bottle. ' No wine ought to,' was his dictum, and at
Kettner's, and that place in Great Portland Street with a name
like Brentano's (which it isn't), and in the little French cafe at
the back of the Savoy, I had to go down every day early and
arrange with the maitre d'hotel to swear the wine was two bob a
bottle. ' Then just send me two dozen of that, will you ? ' said
Whistler. And I had to settle the difference, which was the joke
on me.
" But I enjoyed it, as you know. I don't think he liked me
at first. Some one had told him I was a Philistine of Askelon. But
afterwards we got on like a pair of brothers — even better — and he
would permit himself to be wrapped up and looked after while
with me.
" He told me lots about his early times in London and Paris —
170 [1896
THE MASTER SMITH OF LYME KEGIS
TRIALS AND GRIEFS
but all in fragments — just as the thing occurred to him. Like an
idiot, I took no notes. Lots, too, about Carlyle and his sittings,
as h'kely to interest a Scot. He had got on unexpectedly well with
True Thomas, chiefly by letting him do the talking, and never
opening his mouth, except when Carlyle wanted him to talk.
Carlyle asked him about Paris, and was unexpectedly interested
in the cafis, and so forth. Whistler told him the names of some —
Riche, Anglais, Ve"four, and Foyot and Lavenue on the south side.
Carlyle seemed to be mentally taking notes. Then he suddenly
raised his head and demanded, ' Can a man get a chop there ? '
" Concerning my own sittings, he was very particular that I
should always be in good form — ' trampling,' as he said — other-
wise, he would tell me to go away and play. He was great on
telling me that I must go away from London. It would be death
to me, he said. Only musical people and artists had any right to
come there, and they only to make money. What else was he
there for ?
" Mr. Unwin had arranged for a simple lithograph, but Whistler
said he would make a picture like a postage stamp, and next year
all the exhibitions would be busy as ant-hills with similar * postage
stamp ' portraits. ' Some folk think life-size means six foot by
three — I'll show them ! ' he said more than once. I wanted to
shell out as he went on, and once, being flush (new book or some-
thing), I said I had Fifty Pounds which was annoying me, and I
wished he would take it. He was very sweet about it, and said
he understood. Money burnt a hole in his pocket, too, but he
could not take any money, as he might never finish the work.
Any day his brush might drop, and he could not do another
stroke.
" It was a bad omen ! His wife grew worse. He sent me
word not to come. She died, and I never saw him after. I wish
you could tell me what became of that picture. He called it The
Grey Man"
This is another example of Whistler's endless repetition
of titles. Mr. Cowan's was The Grey Man too. Of Mr.
Crockett's portrait, Whistler said to us that Crockett was
delighted with it as far as it had gone, and he was rather
pleased with it himself.
At this time, a little earlier or a little later, Whistler painted
1896] 171
several of these small full-lengths, which were to show the
fallacy of the life-size theory and the belief that the importance
of a portrait depended on the size of the canvas. Mr. E. G.
Kennedy stood for a second after the one destroyed in Paris ;
Mr. Arnold Hannay for another ; Mr. C. E. Holloway for
The Philosopher, which Whistler considered particularly
successful, and which was bought, before his death, by the
Countess de Beam in Paris.
In the spring, Whistler moved his wife from the Savoy to
St. Jude's Cottage, Hampstead Heath. It was then he began
to give up hope. There was one sad day, just before the end,
when he came to see us, and for the first time admitted the
worst. " We are very, very bad," he kept repeating. Mr.
Sydney Pawling, on the morning of her last day, met him
walking, running almost, across the Heath, looking at
nothing, seeing no one. Mr. Pawling, however, alarmed at
his appearance, stopped him. " Don't speak ! Don't speak !
It is terrible ! " he said, and was gone.
Mrs. Whistler died on May 10, and was buried at Chiswick.
We were both abroad, but on the first Sunday after our return,
a few days later, he came to see us and asked E. to go with
him to the National Gallery. There he showed her the
pictures his " Trixie " loved, standing long before Tintoretto's
Milky Way, her favourite. On this occasion there was no
talk about pictures — Canaletto was barely looked at — there
was no talk about anything, and the tragedy that could not
be forgotten for a moment by either was, as if by tacit under-
standing, never even referred to. But M. Paul Renouard
was in the Gallery and came to Whistler with a word of con-
dolence, which was the most painful thing of all to him.
During the first few months after Mrs. Whistler's death, in
the first shock of his sorrow and loss, Whistler made her
sister, Miss Rosalind Birnie Philip, his ward and drew up
a new will appointing her his heiress and executrix.
172 [1896
CHAPTER XL. ALONE. THE YEAR
EIGHTEEN NINETY-SIX
WHISTLER stayed for a short time in Hampstead
with his sisters-in-law. He then went to live with
Mr. Heinemann at Whitehall Court, where he remained,
on and off, for two or three years, spending only the periods
of Mr. Heinemann's absence at Garlant's Hotel. He was
with us day after day throughout the summer. Little notes
were despatched from the studio to ask if we would be in
and alone in the evening and, if so, he would dine with us.
At first, he would not join us if we expected anybody else.
He liked to sit quietly and talk to us, he said, but he could
not risk meeting other people. He was seeing few, outside
the studio, except Mr. Heinemann, Mr. E. G. Kennedy, and
ourselves. We all went occasionally to the studio, and often
he and J. sketched together in the London streets.
For these sketching expeditions, Whistler prepared before-
hand the colours he wanted to use, and if the day turned out
too grey or too radiant for his scheme, nothing was done.
The chosen colours were mixed and little tubes, filled with
them, were carried in his small paint-box, which held also
the tiny palette with the pure colours he employed arranged
on it, his brushes, and two or three small panels. Many
studies were started. The most important was one of St.
John's, Westminster. He loved the little quiet old corner,
now almost entirely destroyed, and he went there several
times. He worked away with his top hat jammed down on
his nose, sitting on the usual three-legged sketching-stool,
1896] 173
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
the box on his knee, the panel in it, beginning at once with
colour on the panel, usually finishing the work in one after-
noon, though he took two over this church. The painting
was simply done, commencing with the point of interest,
the masses put in bigly, the details worked into them. Just
as in the studio, five minutes after he had begun, he became
so absorbed in his picture that he forgot everything else,
until it grew too dark to see. Save for the preparation of the
colours, there was really no difference in his way of sketching
out of doors from that of any other painter.
He made one or two little journeys during the summer, one
to Rochester and Canterbury with Mrs. Whibley and Miss
Birnie Philip. But, disgusted with the inns and the food,
he hurried back after a day or so. Another longer and more
successful trip was with Mr. E. G. Kennedy, who writes us :
" It was agreed that Whistler and myself should go to France
for a short time. Neither of us had any idea of where we were
going except to Havre. When we arrived in the early morning,
several Americans, who had come to Southampton by the
American Line, were on board. Two cheap-jacks, with their hats
on three hairs, were looking over the side at the curious colour of
the water. One of them said to the other, ' There must have been
a hell of a wash here yesterday, Bill ! ' The water did look like
suds, and Whistler enjoyed the characteristic exclamation im-
mensely. After he got shaved at Havre and had coffee, we took
the boat to Honfleur, which, as you know, has a tidal service there.
' Do you know where we are going ? ' I said to him. — ' No, I
don't,' said he. — ' Well,' said I, ' there is a white-whiskered,
respectable-looking old gentleman ; perhaps he knows the lay
of the ground. You speak French like a native ; tip him a
stave.'
" So Whistler asked him about hotels in Honfleur. There were
two, it seemed, the Cheval Blanc on the quay, and the Ferme de
St. Simeon on the outskirts of the town. The Cheval was so dirty
that I got the only cab, and, piling the luggage on it with ourselves,
drove off to the farm. Fortunately, there were two vacant rooms,
and we stayed there for a week. The cooking was excellent,
174 [1896
ALONE
and, of course, Madame knew who Monsieur Vistlaire was.
Whistler used to kick up a row every night with me about the
' ridiculous British,' to divert his mind, I imagine, and sometimes
my retorts were so sharp that I said to myself, 4 All is over between
us now.' But he used to bob up serenely in the morning, as if
nothing had happened, and, after dejeuner, he would take his small
box of colours, &c., and paint in the Cathedral or large church,
whichever it is. I used to stroll about the town and look in occa-
sionally to see that Whistler came to no harm. It was here that
he said he was going over to Rome some day, and when I said,
' Don't forget to let me know, so that I may be on hand to see
you wandering up the aisle in sackcloth and ashes, with a candle
in each hand, or scrubbing the floor ! ' he said, in a tone of horrified
astonishment, 'Good God! O'K., * is it possible ? Why, I thought
they would make me a hell of a swell of an Abbot, or something
like that.'
" It was amusing to see him manoeuvre to get near the big
kitchen fire, purple overcoat on. He was a true American,
particularly in his liking for heat, and the way he would sidle
into the kitchen, which opened on out of doors, all the time mildly
flattering Madame, was very characteristic. We went to Trouville
one day — a dull hole then — on the diligence, and had a capital
dejeuner at the Cafe de Paris, before which Whistler said, ' We
must do this en Prince, O'K. ! ' — ' All right, your Highness, I'm
with you ! ' Afterwards, when on the beach, he went to sleep on
a chair, leaning back against a bath-house, and his straw hat
tipped on his nose. It was funny, but sleep after luncheon was
a necessity to him, as you know. Coming back to London, in the
harbour of Southampton, after listening to the usual unwearying
talk against the British, I said, ' Oh, be reasonable ! ' — ' Why
should I ? ' said he."
Later on, there were a few days at Calais, in the Meurice,
Sterne's Hotel, where, however, he was too blue and miserable
to be kept even by work.
It was very slowly that Whistler recovered his balance,
and journeys helped him less than the quiet hard-working
* Whistler never lost his fancy for inventing names for his friends, and O'K.
was the one he found for Mr. Kennedy, rarely calling him by any other either in
conversation or in correspondence.
1896] 175
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
days in the studio where, by degrees, he returned to the
pictures and schemes so sadly interrupted. We remember
his coming to us with Mr. Kennedy on a late Sunday after-
noon, bringing with him, up our long three flights of stairs,
The Master Smith to show it to us once again before it was
sent off to America. Mr. Kennedy had captured it, seeing
its perfection, fearful of one unnecessary touch being added.
It was placed on a chair for the short time it stayed with us,
Whistler, facing it on another chair, miserable at the thought
of parting with it. There was always for him a sharp wrench
when he let a picture leave the studio.
After a while he did not mind meeting a few people. A
man he liked to see was Timothy Cole. There was a great
scheme that he should make a series of drawings on wood
and that Cole should engrave them. It was all worked out
in our rooms and in the studio, where Cole brought the
blocks prepared for him to draw on. But that is the last
we or Cole ever heard about them, though we saw the blocks
frequently at Fitzroy Street. Mr. Cole says :
" I did not speak to him more than once after I had given him
the wood blocks. I did not think it prudent to press him about
the matter, fearing he might get disgusted and give it up. . .
The blocks were the size of the Century page, 8£ by 5£."
The small blocks which we have reproduced were drawn by
Whistler and his wife, of course, before this. Mrs. Whistler
etched two of the subjects. The third, a portrait, is, evi-
dently, his own work. And the other two were made by
him on the backs of the blocks. Cole also gave him
some of his own prints, and they pleased Whistler very
much, though he rarely cared to own the pictures and prints
of other artists. Once when an etcher sent him a not very
wonderful print, he tore it up, saying, " I do not collect
etchings — I make them!" With the exception of his
portrait by Boxall, we never saw a scrap of anybody else's
176 [1896
ALONE
work in his studio or his house. He also often said, " I
do not collect the works of my contemporaries 1 " Besides
his art, there was another side to Mr. Cole — his endless
practical jokes. He used to do extraordinary things, to
Whistler's amusement.
Professor John Van Dyke was in London, toward the end of
August or beginning of September, and Whistler was always
willing to come and dine when he was with us. A long darn
in a tablecloth afterwards bore witness to the animation of
one of these dinners — Whistler's knife brought down sharply
on the table to emphasise an argument. The subject was
Velasquez and Las Meninas, which he had never seen, which
everybody else had seen. Velasquez stood just as in the
picture when he painted it, he maintained ; we could not
agree with him. Perspectives and plans were drawn on the
unfortunate cloth, chairs were pulled back in the heat of the
discussion, the situation grew critical. Whistler was forced
to yield step by step, when, of a sudden, his eyes fell on Van
Dyke's feet in the long, pointed shoes, then the American
fashion, their point carried to a degree of fineness no English
bootmaker could rival, " My God, Van Dyke, where did you
get your shoes ? " Whistler asked. Of course, we could not
go on fighting after that ; defeat was avoided. Though
Whistler had never been in Spain, it seemed as if he had seen
the pictures at Madrid, so familiar was he with them, and
though, as in this case, he was at times not right about
them, his interest was endless. We remember " Bob "
Stevenson telling him, to his great delight, how, one summer
day in the Long Gallery of the Prado, where Las Meninas
then hung, an old peasant with faded blue-green clothes
came in, sitting down on the green bench in front, and straight-
way became part of the picture, so true was its atmosphere.
Another evening Claude was the subject — Claude compared
to Turner. Whistler could never see the master whom
1896] ii :M 177
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Englishmen adored in Turner. This was not from prejudice
against Ruskin, for Mr. Albert Greaves told us that years
before the Ruskin trial, at Lindsey Row, Whistler " reviled
Turner." Mr. Cole in 1896 was making engravings after
some of the Turners in the National Gallery, and Whistler
insisted on " their inferiority to the Claudes, so amazingly
demonstrated in Trafalgar Square, where Turner had invited
the comparison disastrous to him." The argument again
grew heated, and Whistler adjourned it until the next morning,
when he arranged to meet J. and Cole in the National Gallery.
As he compared the pictures of the two artists which hang
side by side as Turner wished, he said,
" Well, you know, you have only to look. Claude is the artist
who knows there is no painting the sun itself, and so he chooses the
moment after the sun has set, or has hid behind a cloud, and its
light fills the sky, and that light he suggests as no other painter
ever could. But Turner must paint nothing less than the sun —
and he sticks on a blob of paint — let us be thankful that it isn't
a red wafer as in some of his other pictures — and there isn't any
illusion whatever, and the Englishman lifts up his head in ecstatic
conceit with the English painter, who alone has dared to do what
no artist would ever be fool enough to attempt ! And look at
the architecture : Claude could draw a classical building as it
is ; Turner must invent, imagine architecture as no architect
could design it, and no builder could set it up."
They went on to the Canalettos and Guardis that Whistler
never wearied of looking at, more especially Canaletto's
great big red church and the little interior of the Rotunda
at Vauxhall, with the wonderful little figures, from which
Hogarth learned so much. But before Whistler could finish
pointing out the similarity between his own work and Guardi's
the talk came to a sudden end, for half the copyists in the
room had left their easels. This annoyed Whistler, and he
went no further. He would not talk to an audience which
he was not sure was sympathetic. Sure of sympathy, how-
178 [[1896
A FRESH EXIXG HKKK/B
ALONE
ever, he never tired in his praise of the luminosity of 'Claude,
the certainty of Canaletto, the wonderful tones and handling
of Guardi, the character and colour of Hogarth. Another
Italian about whom he was always enthusiastic was Michael
Angelo Caravaggio, especially his pictures in the Louvre.
Whistler always maintained that the exact knowledge, the
science, of the Old Masters was the reason of their greatness.
The modern painter has a few tricks, a few fads, he said ;
they give out, and nothing is left. Knowledge is inex-
haustible. Titian was painting in as masterly a manner in
his last years as in his youth. And speaking of the cleverness
— a term he hated — of the modern man, he said,
" Think of the finish, the delicacy, the elegance, the repose of
a little Terborg, Vermeer, Metsu. These were masters who could
paint interiors, chandeliers, and all the rest — and what a difference
between them and the clever little interiors now the fashion ! "
In the autumn, Whistler established Miss Birnie Philip
and her mother in the Rue du Bac and returned to Mr.
Heinemann's flat at Whitehall Court, now making it so
entirely his home that before long he was laughingly alluding
to " my guest Heinemann." It is not likely that the two
would ever have parted had not the latter married, but even
then, Whistler often stayed with him as long as his health
remained good, curiously dependent on this friendship
formed late in life with a man many years his junior. When
Mr. Heinemann was away he complained that dull London
was duller and blacker than ever. Whistler shrank from
any expression of condolence offered him in his great grief,
or from inquiries even that would revive the memories of
those terrible weeks, and at Whitehall Court he knew he was
safe from the danger. His host was careful to warn all who
came never to allude to that time, or we would invite Whistler
to us if anybody expected at Whitehall Court was likely to
jar. After three or four years JMr. Heinemann's married
1896] 179
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
life ended abruptly, and Whistler at once suggested that
they should go back to the old way of living. Mr. Heinemann
took another flat at Whitehall Court, similar to his first,
with this in view. But Whistler was already doomed, and,
before the plan could be realised, he was dead.
In the autumn of 1896, Mr. Henry Savage Landor, back
from Japan and Korea, was also staying with Mr. Heinemann
— " a rare fellow, full of real affection," Whistler said of him.
They sat up for hours together, after everybody had gone
to bed. Whistler slept badly, and Mr. Landor can do with
less sleep than most people. There was a skull in the drawing-
room that, Mr. Landor tells us, Whistler would sketch over
and over again, while they talked to three, four, five o'clock
in the morning. Once or twice, when they drew the curtains,
it was day, and Whistler dressed, breakfasted, and went
straight to the studio. He brought us stories of Mr. Landor,
the simplicity with which he would start for the end of the
earth as if for a saunter along Piccadilly, " leaving the costume
of travel to the Briton crossing the Channel " ; or, in the
light shoes of everyday wear, " outwalk the stoutest shod
gillie over the Scotch moors." Then Whistler brought us
Mr. Landor, with whom our friendship dates from the
morning when, at Whistler's request, he sat, Japanese fashion
on the floor in the front of our fire, a rug wrapped round him
as kimono, and devoured imaginary rice with pencils for
chopsticks. When Mr. Landor had his horrible experiences
in Thibet, and the story of his tortures was telegraphed to
Europe, Whistler was one of the first to send him a wire in
his joy that Landor had escaped.
Whistler also took a fancy, while in Whitehall Court, to
Mr. Heinemann's brother, Edmund, who was, Whistler
said, " something in the City," whom he christened the
*' Napoleon of Finance " and described as " sitting in a tangled
network of telegraph and telephone." He never had invested
180 [1896
ALONE
money before, and it was with pride that he deposited at
the bank his first " scrip," bought for him by Mr. Edmund
Heinemann, and collected his " half-crowns " as dividends.
Evening after evening he would stay in the studio until he
could see no longer, keeping dinner waiting at Whitehall
Court, so that no time could ever be fixed for the meal.
Arriving, he would first insist on mixing cocktails, an art in
which he excelled and which must have dated back to the
time when he " stayed away " from the Coast Survey. If
it did not suit him to dine at Whitehall Court, he would
write or telegraph to say he could dine with us if we liked,
or that he had amazing things to tell us, should he come ? —
or that he was sure we were both wanting to see him. Or
he would drive straight from the studio in the late afternoon
and stay on, arriving sometimes before the notes he had
forgotten to send, or with the wires unsent still in his pocket ;
almost the only time we have known him willingly not to
dress for dinner. On rare occasions, he came in after we
had dined, and still demanded the fortune du pot of our
small establishment, and was always content, no matter
how meagre that fortune might prove, though if it included
" a piece of American cake " or anything sweet he was the
better pleased. He grumbled only over our Sunday evening
supper, which was cold in English fashion, out of deference to
an old English servant. Then he would even bring Constant,
his valet, model and cook, to make him an onion soup or an
omelette. Constant was succeeded by a little Belgian maid
called Marie, who was supposed to look after the studio, and
who, when he stayed at Garlant's and we dined with him there,
would be summoned to dress the salad and make the coffee.
It was not long after this that, by the doctor's advice, he gave
up coffee and stopped smoking too. Few men ever ate less
than Whistler, but few were more fastidious about what
they did eat. He made the best of our English cooking
1816] 181
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
while it lasted, but he was glad when our English ser-
vant was succeeded by Augustine, who was French and
who could make the soups, salads and dishes he liked, and
who did not hesitate to " scold " him when he was late and
ruined the dinner.
These meetings must have been pleasant to Whistler as
to us ; there were whole weeks when he came every even-
ing. On his arrival he might be silent. As the minutes
went on, however, and after he had had the inevitable
nap, he would start talking and his talk was as good on
the last evening he ever spent with us as on the first.
We shall always regret that we made no notes of what
he said, though the charm of his talk must have eluded
even the shorthand reporter. In " surroundings of antagon-
ism," he wrapped this talk as well as himself in " a species
of misunderstanding " and deliberately mystified, bewildered,
and aggravated the company. But when the disguise was
no longer necessary, and he talked at his ease, he impressed
us with his sanity of judgment, breadth of interest, and
keenness of intellect. His reading was extensive, though we
never ceased to wonder where he found time for it. His talk
sometimes abounded in quotations, more especially from the
Bible, that " splendid mine of invective," as he once described
it. His diversity of knowledge was as unexpected as his
extensive reading and we felt that he must know things in-
tuitively, just as by some uncanny faculty he was sure to
hear everything said about him. While he liked to hold the
floor, and was at his best when he did, he was ready for
argument. " I am not arguing, I am telling you," he would
say, and he would lose his temper, which was violent, but he
Was friendlier than ever when it was all over. And so, the
shadow of sorrow ever in the background, the evenings went
by that winter in the little dining-room which had been
Etty's studio, where his huge Edinburgh pictures were painted.
182 [1896
ALONE
The Eden affair was still dragging on, and Whistler's dis-
appointment was great to find artists as afraid to support him
now as at the Ruskin trial. One day in Bond Street, he met
a Follower, just returned to town, arm-in-arm with the
" Baronet." The Follower at once left a card at Fitzroy Street.
Whistler wrote " Judas Iscariot " on the card, and sent it
back. A few weeks later, the New English Art Club hung Sir
William Eden's work, and with it, he said, their shame, upon
their walls. He complimented them, much to their discomfort,
on their appetite for " toad." To clear the air, which had
become sultry in the art clubs and studios, we invited Pro-
fessor Fred Brown and Mr. D. S. MacColl to meet him one
evening at dinner, and discuss things. Professor Brown
had another engagement. Mr. MacColl came, and Whistler,
who did not mind how hard a man fought, if he fought
at all, continued on pleasant terms with him always. But
the New English Art Club he never forgave.
A show of J.'s lithographs of Granada and the Alhambra
was arranged at the Fine Art Society's during December 1896,
and, for the catalogue, Whistler wrote an introductory note
of appreciation. He designed the cover to Mr. Charles
Whibley's Book of Scoundrels, and also two covers for novels
by Miss Elizabeth Robins, all three books published by Mr.
Heinemann. The design for the Book of Scoundrels was a
gallows, drawn in thin lines, with rope and noose attached.
W. E. Henley, to whom it was shown, asked whether the
gallows should not have been drawn with a support. Whistler's
comment was :
" Well, you know, that's the usual sort of gallows, but this one
will do. It will hang all of us. Just like Henley's selfishness to
want a strong one ! " —
an allusion to Henley's gigantic frame.
During the winter Whistler met Sir Seymour Haden for
1896] 183
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
the last time at a dinner given by the Society of Illustrators
(of which both were Vice-Presidents) to Mr. Alfred Parsons,
on his election to the Royal Academy. It was Whistler's
first appearance in public since his wife's death, and as we
had persuaded him to go, never anticipating any such meeting,
we were annoyed to think that we had exposed him to the
unpleasantness of it. However, as soon as Whistler saw
Sir Seymour Haden, he seemed to wake up and to begin to
enjoy himself. His laugh carried far. Haden must have
heard it and may have seen his ostentatious display of three
monocles on the dinner table. Certainly, the fish had not
been served when Haden whispered something to Sir James
D. Linton, President of the Society, and left the room. Later
Whistler was called upon to make a speech and could not
get out of it. But it seemed an anti-climax. The real event
of the dinner for him had come earlier in the evening.
At Christmas, he went with Mr. and Mrs. T. Fisher Unwin
and ourselves to Bournemouth, where our hotel was an old-
fashioned inn, selected from the guide-book because it was the
nearest to the sea. We breakfasted in our rooms, we met at
lunch to order dinner, and the rest of the day Whistler in-
sisted must be spent in getting an appetite for it — wandering
on the cliffs, he with his little paint-box. But the sea was on
the wrong side, the wind in the wrong direction, and he could
do nothing. On some days we took long drives. One damp,
cold, cheerless afternoon we stopped at a small inn in Poole.
The landlord, watching Whistler sip his hot whisky-and-water,
was convinced he was " somebody," but was unable "to place "
him. " And who do you suppose I am ? " Whistler asked at
last. " I can't exactly say, sir, but I should fancy you was
from the 'Alls ! " Aubrey Beardsley was then at Boscombe, a
further stage reached in his brave fight with death, and we
went to see him. But even the sight of the suffering of
others was too cruel a reminder to Whistler, and it was
184 [1896
ALONE
characteristic of him at this moment that he shrank from
going with us.
Dinner was the event of the day, and it would have proved
generally a disaster had he not seen humour in his being
expected to eat it, so little was it what Whistler thought a
dinner should be. On Christmas Day he was melancholy
and stared in silence at the turkey and bread sauce, the
boiled potatoes and soaked greens :
" To think of my beautiful room in the Rue du Bac — and the
rest of them there, eating their Christmas dinner, having up the
wonderful old Pouilly from my cellar ! "
But we had something else to talk about. In the Saturday
Review of that week, December 26, there was an article,
signed Walter Sickert, that for many reasons was of interest
to us all.
1896] 185
CHAPTER XLI. THE LITHOGRAPHY
CASE. THE YEARS EIGHTEEN NINETY-
SIX TO EIGHTEEN NINETY-SEVEN
MR. SICKERT'S article was ostensibly inspired by the
show of J.'s lithographs of Granada at the Fine Art
Society's. Whistler's great interest in it is explained by the
fact that he understood it to be an attack upon himself, as
well as upon J., whose lithographic drawings alone it pretended
to deal with. Whistler's method of work has already been
described. As a rule, his lithographs were made on litho-
graphic paper and transferred by Mr. Way to the stone. The
article argued that to pass off drawings made on paper as
lithographs was as misleading to " the purchaser on the vital
point of commercial value," as to sell photogravures for
etchings, which, when Sir Hubert Herkomer had done so,
led to a protest from J., and also from Mr. Sickert whose
condemnation then had been strong. The article, therefore,
was written either ignorantly or maliciously, for no such dis-
tinction in lithography has ever been made. Transfer paper
is as old as Senefelder, the inventor of lithography, who
looked upon it as the most important part of his invention.
The comment amounted to a charge of dishonesty, and an
apology was demanded. The apology was refused by Mr.
Frank Harris, editor of the Saturday Review, and consequently
Messrs. Lewis and Lewis brought an action for libel against
writer and editor.
The action stood in J.'s name, of course, and Whistler
was the principal witness. In the hope that the matter
186 [1896
THE LITHOGRAPHY CASE
might be settled by a suitable apology and without appeal to
the law, Mr. Heinemann arranged a meeting between the editor
of the Saturday Review and Whistler. But nothing came of
it. People who knew nothing of lithography got involved in
the case, and our old friend Harold Frederic, for one, enrolled
himself inexplicably with the enemy. Others were found to
know a great deal whom we should never have suspected of
the knowledge, and through Whistler we discovered that Mr.
Alfred Gilbert started life as a lithographer, was indignant
with the Saturday Review, and was only too willing to offer
his services to us. Meetings followed on Sunday evenings in
the huge Maida Vale house, where Mr. Gilbert was trying to
revive mediaeval relations between master and workman, and
live the life of a craftsman with pupils and assistants : a
brave experiment, if it ended in failure.
The case was fixed for April 1897, the most inconvenient
time of the year for the artist who exhibits. Whistler was
working on the portrait of Miss Kinsella, and he had promised
three pictures to the Salon : Green and Violet, Rose and Gold,
and a Nocturne. M. Helleu, who was over in London, had
them catalogued and measured, reserving the necessary space
on the walls. Only a few days before sending in were left
and the work could never be done in time, Whistler was in
despair. It was then, too, he learned that C. E. Holloway,
the model for The Philosopher, a distinguished artist whom
the world never knew, was ill in his studio near by. Holloway
was anything but a successful man and Whistler was shocked
to find him in bed, lacking nearly every comfort. He
provided doctors, nurses, medicine, and even food, and
looked after the dying man's family. He spent afternoons
in Holloway's little bedroom. All this took up much time
and made it more difficult than ever to get his pictures
ready for the Salon.
He called one morning on his way to the studio to tell us
1897] 187
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
of the death of Holloway. He was going to the funeral and
was already suggesting a scheme for a fund to purchase some
of the pictures and give the proceeds to the family. He was
nervous and worried, with the Salon clamouring for his work
on the one hand, and the trial claiming him on the other.
People, he complained, did not seem to understand the im-
portance of his time. Things were amazing in the studio
and he was expected to leave them to go into court. No, he
wouldn't, that was the end of it. His pictures must be
finished. J. said to him :
" The case is as much yours as mine, and you must come.
Your reputation is involved. There will be an end to your
lithography if we lose. You must fight."
Whistler, if in the wrong, liked a friend the better for the
contradiction he was popularly supposed unable to bear,
and his answer was,
" Well, you know, but really — why, of course, Joseph, it's all
right. I'm coming, of course, we'll fight it through together.
I never meant not to. That's all right."
And to E., who went with him to the " Temple of Pomona "
in the Strand, to order flowers for Holloway, he kept saying,
" You know, really, Joseph mustn't talk like that ! Of course
it's all right. Of course, I never meant not to come. You must
tell him it's all right. I never back out ! "
But his work was stopped. The pictures did not go to Paris.
The case was tried in the King's Bench Division, on April
5, before Mr. Justice Mathew. We were represented by Sir
Edward Clarke and Mr. Eldon Bankes. Whistler arrived
early. In the great hall, he met the counsel for the other
side, Mr. Bigham, an acquaintance, and leaning on his arm,
entered the Court — " capturing the enemy's counsel on the
way," he said as he sat down between us and Sir George
Lewis.
188 [1897
THE PHILOSOPHER
(Hose and llron-n)
THE LITHOGRAPHY CASE
J., in the witness-box, simply pointed out that he had made
lithographs both on paper and on stone ; that there was no
difference between them ; that this was an historical fact
which he was able to prove ; that for the defendants to deny
that a lithograph made on paper was as much a lithograph as
a lithograph made on stone, showed that they knew nothing
about the subject, or else were acting out of malice.
Whistler was called immediately after. He said his griev-
ance was the accusation that he pursued the same evil practice.
He was asked by Mr. Bigham if he was very angry with Mr.
Sickert, and he replied he might not be angry with Mr. Sickert,
but he was disgusted that
" distinguished people like Mr. Pennell and myself are attacked
by an absolutely unknown authority (Mr. Sickert), an insignificant
and irresponsible person."
Then, said Mr. Bigham, Mr. Sickert is an insignificant and
irresponsible person who can do no harm ? Whistler answered,
" Even a fool can do harm, and if any harm is done to Mr.
Pennell, it is done to me. This is a question for all artists."
And he added that Mr. Sickert's pretended compliments and
flatteries were a most impertinent piece of insolence, tainted
with a certain obsequious approach.
Further asked if this was his action, he said,
" I am afraid if Mr. Pennell had not taken these proceedings,
I should."
" You are working together, then ? "
" No, we are on the same side."
" Are you bearing any part of the costs ? "
" No, but I am quite willing."
Sir Edward Clarke then interposed and asked if there was
any foundation for that question.
" Only the lightness and delicacy of the counsel's suggestion."
1897] i89
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
At the end of the cross-examination, Whistler adjusted his
eye-glass, put his hat on the rail of the witness-box, slowly
pulled off one of his gloves after the other. He turned to the
judge and said,
" And now, my lord, may I tell you why we are all here ? "
" No, Mr. Whistler, we are all here because we cannot help
it!"
And Whistler left the box. What he meant to say no one
will ever know. We asked him later. He shook his head ;
the moment for saying it had passed.
Mr. Sidney Colvin, as Keeper of the Print Room of the
British Museum, testified that no difference was made in
classifying lithographs done on paper and lithographs done
on stone ; Mr. Strange, of the Art Library, South Kensington,
corroborated this ; Mr. Way and Mr. Goulding, professional
lithographic printers, gave evidence to the same effect. And
Mr. Alfred Gilbert kept his promise of appearing in our support.
Mr. Bigham, in defence, said that the issues in the case were
not of any serious consequence to the pocket or the reputation
of anybody, and that the defendant had written in faith and
honesty, with the simple desire to express his honest opinion
on the work he had criticised, and that he did not impute any
dishonest or improper motive. This was a storm in a teacup
blown up by Mr. Whistler.
Mr. Macaskie, for the proprietor of the Saturday Review,
said that he did not even know why he had been drawn into
this artistic squabble.
Mr. Sickert began by protesting that he was familiar with
all the processes of lithography ; that the plaintiff's litho-
graphs were not lithographs but, as a matter of fact, mere
transfers. He had submitted the article to another paper,
which refused it before it was accepted by the Saturday
Review. He had been under the impression that the plaintiff
190 [1897
THE LITHOGRAPHY CASE
would like a newspaper correspondence. He was actuated
by a pedantic purism. Cross-examined by Sir Edward
Clarke, he had to admit, by implication, that he intended to
charge the plaintiff with dishonest practices, and that he had
caught Mr. Pennell, the purist, tripping. He had to admit
also that the only lithograph he ever published was made in
the same way, and he had called it, or allowed it to be called,
a lithograph.
Mr. Sickert's witnesses scarcely helped him. Mr. C. H.
Shannon's testimony was more favourable to us than to him.
Mr. Rothenstein testified that all the lithographs he had
published were done exactly as Whistler and J. had done
theirs. Mr. George Moore solemnly proclaimed that he knew
nothing about lithographs, but that he knew Degas. " What's
Degas ? " said the judge, thinking some new process had been
sprung on him, and Mr. Moore vanished. The proprietor
of the Saturday Review acknowledged that he had published,
as recently as Christmas, an illustrated supplement full of
lithographs done on transfer paper and advertised by him as
lithographs ; also that he had not known what was in Mr.
Sickert's article until it appeared.
Mr. Bankes, in summing up for us, said that without doubt
the plaintiff was charged with dishonesty ; that the attack
was equally injurious and bitter both on the plaintiff and Mr.
Whistler ; that the plaintiff had been used as a stalking-horse
for Mr. Whistler.
The judge said that a critic might express a most disparaging
opinion on an artist's work and might refer to him in the most
disagreeable terms, but he must not attribute to the artist
most discreditable conduct, unless he could prove that his
charge was true. If the jury thought the criticism merely
sharp and exaggerated, they would find a verdict for the
defendant, but if not — that is, if it was more than this — they
should consider to what damages the plaintiff was entitled.
1897] 191
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
The verdict was for the plaintiff — damages, fifty pounds :
not a high estimate of the value of artistic morality on the
part of the British jury, but, at least, in so far as it carried
costs, higher than the estimate put upon it in the Ruskin trial.
So convinced, however, were the other side of a verdict in
their favour, that a rumour reached us of a luncheon ordered
beforehand, on the morning of the second day, by the editor
of the Saturday Review to celebrate our defeat. We waited
to be sure. Then we carried off Whistler, Mr. Reginald Poole,
who had conducted the case for us, and Mr. Jonathan Sturgis
to the Cafe Royal for our breakfast. Whistler was jubilant,
and nothing pleased him more than the deference of the
foreman of the jury who waylaid him to shake hands at the
close of the trial.
192 [1897
CHAPTER XLII. THE END OF THE EDEN
CASE. THE YEAR EIGHTEEN NINETY-
SEVEN
AFTER our trial, Whistler went to Paris and Boldini
painted his portrait, shown in 1900. It was done in a
very few sittings. Mr. E. G. Kennedy, who went with
Whistler several times, says that Boldirii's method was as-
tonishingly sure and rapid, that Whistler frequently got tired
of doing what he had made other people do all his life — pose
— and that he used to take little naps. During one of these,
Boldini made a dry-point of him on a zinc plate. Whistler
did not like it, nor did he like any better Helleu's dry-point
half-length of him in the Boldini pose. Of the painting,
Whistler said to us, " They say that looks like me, but I hope
I don't look like that ! " It is, however, a wonderful pre-
sentment of him in his very worst mood, and Mr. Kennedy
remembers that he was in his worst mood all the while he
posed. It is the Whistler whom the world knew and feared.
When Whistler got back to London, in May or June, he
went to Garlant's Hotel, where Mr. Kennedy was staying.
Mr. Kennedy's relations with Whistler commenced with the
selling of Whistler's prints and pictures in New York, and
soon developed into a close and intimate friendship, which
continued until almost the end of Whistler's life. Kennedy
was one of Whistler's first and foremost champions in America,
devoted and loyal, though the friendship ended rather
abruptly through a regrettable misunderstanding on Whistler's
part. After Whistler's death, Mr. Kennedy was mainly
1897] ii :N < 193
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
responsible for the fine exhibitions at the Grolier Club and
the catalogue.
Every now and then this summer, Whistler went on short
visits to Hampton where Mr. Heinemann was living in a
" cottage." Whistler never liked the country, but, he said,
" I suppose now we'll have to fish for the little gudgeon together
in a chair, with painted corks, like the other Britons."
As a matter jrf fact, he took part in all the fun there. He
went to regattas, picnicked, and allowed himself to be rowed
and punted about. At Hampton he first met Mr. William
Nicholson, whom Mr. Heinemann had asked down with a
view to his adding a portrait of Whistler to the series that
began with his enormously successful woodcut of Queen
Victoria. Mr. Nicholson, later on, in the Fitzroy Street
studio, made his studies of Whistler in evening dress, the
pose and the place of the figure in the design recalling
somewhat Whistler's own arrangement in the Sarasate.
It was the summer of the Queen's Diamond Jubilee.
Whistler could not come to us from his hotel that June without
passing through streets hung with tawdry wreaths and
festoons, and Trafalgar Square buried in a mass of platforms,
seats, and builders' advertisements, with Nelson on his
column just peering above the scaffolding. The decorations
were an unfailing source of amusement to him, an excuse for
a new estimate of "the Island and the Islander," and the
talk about the British which became habitual during his last
years and was an annoyance, we are afraid, to some of his
friends and more of his " enemies." One evening he sketched
for us his impression of the Square, with Nelson " boarded at
last." " You see," he said, " England expects every English-
man to be ridiculous," and the sketch afterwards appeared
in the Daily Chronicle much to his satisfaction, but little to
the public's.
194" [1897
THE END OF THE EDEN CASE
In July he took a short journey with us. We- were
starting to bicycle across France to Switzerland, and the
evening before he, Mr. Kennedy, and M. Boldini dined with
us. It happened that Boldini was to cross the Channel by
the same boat, and Whistler, who always loved the trip to
Dieppe, and hated to be left alone, decided that he and
Kennedy must go too. A good deal has been written and
said of the discomfort of having Whistler as a fellow traveller.
Our experience was very different. He attracted attention, it
is true, but this he did wherever he went. He had long since
given up the old extravagances of dress. But there was
something in the length and cut of his overcoat, in the tilt of
his flat-brimmed silk hat, or jaunty straw, over his eyes, that
was peculiar to himself and that forced people to look at him.
And his way of leaning on the arm of anybody who happened
to be with him to walk the shortest distance, made him no
less conspicuous. On this occasion, he arrived at the station
so late that the rest of the party were reduced to a state of
nervous anxiety. But once we had started, he was the best
company in the world, he himself enjoying every minute of
the journey, especially on the boat, where he ran across a
group of " enemies " greatly to their embarrassment. He had
hardly arrived at Dieppe before the small paint-box was
unpacked, and he was in the street hunting for a little shop-
front he remembered. It was characteristic that first he had
to find another kind of shop where he could buy a rosette of
the Legion of Honour, for his had been lost or forgotten, and
he would have thought it wanting in respect to appear without
one in France. The only shadow to the pleasure of the after-
noon was when the shopkeeper, to whom he had explained his
loss, said, " All right, Monsieur, here is the rosette, but I have
heard that story before." However, after the first irritation,
even Whistler had to laugh. One other incident was character-
istic. We had only our cycling costumes, we were staying at
1897] 195
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
the Hotel Royal, and Whistler was always most punctilious in
the social ceremonial of life. When he came down to dinner,
very late, of course, he was correct in evening dress, the rosette
in place, and we thought there was just a suggestion of
hesitation. But it was only a suggestion. At once he gave
his arm to E., who was in short cycling skirt, and as we went
into the dining-room he turned to her, and, to a question that
had never been asked, answered, " Mais, oui, Princesse"
as who should say, royalty can do no wrong. He was down
to see us off in the morning. " Well, you know, can't I hold
something ? " he offered, as E. mounted her bicycle, and
afterwards, as he watched us wheel along the sea-front, he
told Mr. Kennedy, " After all, O.K., there's something in it ! "
In the autumn, Whistler was again in Paris, and the Eden
case, in the Cour de Cassation, was fixed for November 17.
It was heard before President P£rivier, Maitre Beurdeley for
the second time defending Whistler. Mr. Heinemann came
over especially from London, and was with him in court.
Judgment was given on December 2. The affair, in the mean-
while, had been talked about, and the court was crowded.
The judgment went as entirely in Whistler's favour as, in the
Lower Court, it had gone against him. He was to keep the
picture, on condition that he made it unrecognisable as a
portrait of Lady Eden, which already had been done ; Sir
William Eden was to have the hundred guineas back, which
already had been returned, and 5 per cent, interest ;
Whistler was to pay forty pounds damages with interest and
the costs of the first trial, and the Baronet to pay the costs of
appeal. Mr. MacMonnies, who also was with Whistler in
court, writes us :
" Whistler was very much tickled at having added a clause to
the Code Napoleon — to the effect that a work of art was the pro-
perty of the artist until it had passed out of his hands (I believe
that was it). During the trial, it was decided by the judges that
196 [1897
MASTER STEPHEN MANUEL
(Arrangement in Grey)
THE END OF THE EDEN CASE
the picture should be produced when needed. (Mr. Whistler had
asked me to sit beside him.) Mr. Whistler whispered in my ear
' MacMonnies, take the picture and get out with it.' As we sat
under the judges' noses, and the court room was packed with
admirers and enemies of his, and court officials, I made a distinct
spot as I walked down the aisle with the picture under my arm.
And Whistler showed his admirable generalship in the case, as
no one of the gendarmes could stop me. So all anybody could do
was to watch it disappear out of the door."
Afterwards, Whistler's account to us was that the Pro-
cureur de la Republique had been splendid ; that the whole
affair was a public recognition of his position ; that the trial
made history, established a precedent, proving the right of
the artist to his own work ; that a new clause had been added
to the Code NapoUon — he had " wiped up the floor " with the
Baronet before all Paris, which was his intention from the
first. He wished it to be widely known that in the law
records of France his name would go down with Napoleon's :
" Well, you know, take my word for it, Joseph, the first duty
of a good general when he has won the battle is to say so, other-
wise, the people always dull — the Briton especially — fail to
understand, and it is an unsettled point in history for ever.
Victory is not complete until the wounded are looked after and
the dead counted."
The trial over, he at once proposed to Mr. Heinemann to
make " a beautiful little book " of it, and he began to arrange
the report with his " Reflections " for publication. During
many months proofs of The Baronet and the Butterfly filled
his pockets. As he had read pages of the Ten o' Clock to Mr.
Alan S. Cole, so he read pages of The Baronet and the Butterfly
to us, and sometimes to the Council of the International after
the meetings, a mistake, for there were members who had not
the intelligence to understand it — or him. His care with
this book was no less than with The Gentle Art. Every word
in the marginal notes, every Butterfly, was a matter of
1897] 197
thought and arrangement. " Beautiful, you know — isn't it
beautiful ? " he would say, when a page or a paragraph
specially pleased him — and nothing pleased him more than
the Butterfly following the " Reflection " on page 43. There
he quotes Mr. George Moore :
" I undertook a journey to Paris in the depth of winter, had
two shocking passages across the Channel and spent twenty-five
pounds. All this worry is the commission I received for my
trouble in the matter."
Whistler's " Reflection " was !
" Why ! damme sir ! he must have had a Valentine himself —
the sea-saddened expert."
This was followed by the Butterfly he thought " splendid —
actually rolling back with laughter, you know ! " A new
feature was the toad printed just above the dedication :
" To those confreres across the Channel who, refraining from
intrusive demonstration, with a pluck and delicacy all their own,
* sat tight ' during the struggle, these decrees of the Judges are
affectionately dedicated."
Below, a Butterfly bows gracefully and sends its sting to
England. The tiny toad is the only realistic drawing in his
books, and to make it realistic he needed a model. He
thought of applying at the Zoological Gardens, was promised
one by Mr. Wimbush, whose studio was in Fitzroy Street,
and finally, was provided with a good specimen by his step-
son, Mr. E. Godwin. He put the toad in a paper box, forgot
all about it, and was shocked when he heard it was dead.
" You know, they say I starved it. Well, it must have caught
a fly or two, and I thought toads lived in stone or amber — or
something — for hundreds of years — don't you know the stories ? —
Perhaps it was because I hadn't the amber ! "
The Baronet and the Butterfly was published in Paris by
M. Louis Henry May on May 13, 1899. Whistler objected to
108 [1897
THE END OF THE EDEN CASE
the date. But on the 13th it appeared and the result justified
his superstition. It did not attract the same attention as
The Gentle Art. When we saw him in Paris that same month,
he seemed to think the fault was with the critics, who were
keeping up the old played-out business of " unworthy,"
the " old misunderstanding and misrepresentation." The
truth is, however, that interest in the Eden trial had never
been as great as he fancied, and the report was dull reading,
principally through the absence of cross-examination which
would, in England, have given Whistler the opportunity of
" scalping " his victim. The Gentle Art was made up of
Whistler's writings and reports of his answers in court ; The
Baronet and the BtUterfly was made up of speeches of advocates
and judges. In the marginal notes, the dedication, the
argument, he was brilliant and witty, and the Butterfly was
gay as ever. There was too little Whistler in it, that was its
fault.
The book was one only of many schemes that occupied him
during these years.
The International Society of Sculptors, Painters and Gravers
was being organised, and the Atelier Carmen in Paris, which
he was to direct, was being planned, and they were both so
important that their history is reserved for other chapters.
Another venture from which he hoped great things, was his
endeavour to dispense with the middleman in art. He could
not reconcile himself to the large sums gained by buying and
selling his work since 1892. Over the sale of old work, he
had no control ; the sale of new he determined to keep in his
own hands. He would be his own agent, set up his own shop,
form a trust in Whistlers. We think it was in 1896, he first
spoke to us about it, delighted, sure that he was to succeed
financially at last. In 1897, rumours were spread of a
" Whistler Syndicate." In 1898, advertisements of the
" Company of the Butterfly " appeared in the Athenaeum —
1897] 199
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
the Company composed, as far as we ever knew, of James
McNeill Whistler only. Two rooms were taken on the first
floor at No. 2 Hinde Street, Manchester Square, close to the
Wallace Gallery. They were charming, a delicate tint on
the walls, the floor covered with matting, white muslin
curtains at the windows. A few prints were hung. One or
two small pictures stood on easels. To go to Whistler in the
studio for his work was one thing ; it was quite another to
go to a shop run by no one knew whom, which was half the
time closed, and which attracted scarcely a visitor when
opened. We doubt if anything was ever sold there, we never
met any one in the place. The rooms were soon turned over
to Mr. Heinemann for a show of Mr. Nicholson's colour-prints,
and, after that, no more was heard of the " Company of the
Butterfly."
There had been another reason for its establishment, apart
from the sale of his pictures. So many people came to the
studio for so many reasons that, had he let them all in, he
would have had no time to himself. Those whom he wanted
to see, if there was any reason for seeing them, artists and
students who were in sympathy, had no difficulty in getting
in. Those who wanted to buy pictures should go to the
" Company of the Butterfly " and buy them there without
interrupting his work. But no shop could dispose of the
constant visits from the merely curious, from photographers
asking for his portrait, journalists asking for an interview,
literary people anxious to make articles or books about him
who would write to arrange for a certain hour and then appear
without waiting for a reply. One, who had written to say
he was coming with a letter of introduction, on his arrival
found the door carefully fastened and heard Whistler gaily
whistling inside, and that was all the indignant visitor heard
or saw of him. There is a story of an American collector who,
calling one day when not wanted, and after wasting much
200 [1897
rOKTRAIT OF A BABY
THE END OF THE EDEN CASE
of Whistler's time and arriving at no conclusion', finally
said :
" How much for the whole lot ? "
" Five millions."
" What ? "
" My posthumous prices ! "
There are numerous stories of Whistler's manner of
meeting the hordes who tried to force themselves into the
studio, or even friends who came uninvited. He would open
the door just wide enough to show the great palette and sheaf
of brushes in his hand and regret that he was with a sitter.
Once a friend stretched out his hand, felt the brushes, and
they were dry ; he was let in. Mr. Eddy gives another
instance :
" An acquaintance had brought, without invitation, a friend,
' a distinguished and clever woman,' to the studio in the Rue
Notre-Dame-des-Champs. They reached the door, both out of
breath from their long climb. * Ah ! my dear Whistler,' drawled
C , * I have taken the liberty of bringing Lady D to see
you. I knew you would be delighted.' — ' Delighted ! I'm sure ;
quite beyond expression, but' — mysteriously, and holding the
door so as to bar their entrance — ' my dear Lady D , I would
never forgive our friend for bringing you up six flights of stairs on
so hot a day to visit a studio at one of these — eh — pagan moments
when — and he glanced furtively behind him, and still further closed
the door — * it is absolutely impossible for a lady to be received.
Upon my soul, I should never forgive him.' — And Whistler bowed
them down the six nights and returned to the portrait of a very
sedate old gentleman, who had taken advantage of the interruption
to break for a moment the rigor of his pose."
The " Company of the Butterfly " never relieved him of
the visitors who were more eager to see him than his work.
But this he did not discover until he had devoted to the
venture far more time than he had to spare, during the
crowded years of its existence.
1897] 201
CHAPTER XLIII. BETWEEN LONDON
AND PARIS. THE YEARS EIGHTEEN
NINETY-SEVEN TO NINETEEN
HUNDRED
AFTER his marriage, Whistler was curiously unfortunate
in his choice of apartments and studios. The studio
in the Rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs, on the sixth floor, was
the worst possible for a man with a weak heart to climb to ;
the apartment in the Rue du Bac, low and damp, was as bad
for a man who caught cold easily. He was constantly ill
during the winter of 1897-98, which he passed in Paris.
Influenza kept him in bed in November, in January, and
again in March, when he was dull and listless as never before,
except in Venice after the sirocco, he said : "I am so tired —
I who am never tired ! "
Whistler's heart, always weak, was beginning to trouble
him. He had often been ill before, but, nervous as he was
about his health, he would never realise the seriousness of his
condition. We have known him, when really too ill to work,
get up out of bed in order to accomplish something important.
A few years before, confined with quinsy to his brother's
house, forced to write what he wanted to say on a slate, when
some one he did not want to see was announced, he broke into
words, *' Tell him to go away ! " Illness suggested death,
and no man ever shrank more from the thought, or mention,
of death, than Whistler. There was always in life so much
for him to do, and so little time in which to do it. He
would tell his brother it was useless for doctors to know so
202 [1897
PORTRAIT OF WHISTLER
Pen and Ink Drmving, Study for Portrait, Brown and Gold
BETWEEN LONDON AND PARIS
much if they had not yet discovered the elixir of life. Why
not try to find it, he urged Dr. Whistler. Didn't it seem as
if 'it must be somewhere in the heart of the unknown ? Who
could tell ? It must be there.
In the studio, he now worked harder than ever. It seemed
almost as if illness made him foresee that his time was short
and he was goaded on by the thought of the many things
still to finish. When he was in London, we were distressed
by his fatigue at the end of his long day in the studio, but he
told us he was like the old cart-horse that could keep going
as long as it was in the traces, but dropped down the minute
it was set free. When he was in Paris, his letters were full of
work and of the " amazing things " going on in the Rue
Notre-Dame-des-Champs. Often he said,
" Really, you know, I could almost laugh at the extraordinary
progress I am making, and the lovely things I am inventing —
work beyond anything I have ever done before."
He was only beginning to know and to understand, he felt.
All that had gone before was experimental. There were new
portraits. In 1897, one was begun of Mr. George Vanderbilt
— " The Modern Philip : " the large full-length, in riding
dress, his whip in his hand, standing against the deep, shadowy
background of the later portraits. The canvas was sent from
one studio to the other, just as Whistler and Mr. Vanderbilt
happened to be together either in Paris or London. Probably
not one of his other portraits of men interested Whistler so
much ; certainly not one was finer than the picture when we
saw it in the London studio. But it was a wreck in the Paris
Memorial Exhibition of 1905. Like some of the other
portraits of this period, it had been worked over too
often. He also, in these years, painted Mrs. Vanderbilt, the
oval Ivory and Gold shown at the Salon of 1902. " Carmen,"
his Paris model, a rich, luxuriant beauty, sat to him for
several pictures. Other portraits were started a year or so
1897] 203
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
later of his brother-in-law, Mr. Birnie Philip, and of Mr.
Elwell, an artist and old friend. In May 1898, at the
Rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs, Whistler showed us the full-
length of himself, in long overcoat, called Gold and Brown in
the Universal Exhibition of 1900, but far from successful,
and he had little pleasure in it. Before he finished it,
Miss Marian Draughn, a very beautiful American girl, began
to pose for him.
This was the period, too, of the series of small heads and
half-lengths for which children usually sat. He loved
children and instances of his kindliness to those who posed
for him come from every side. Mr. Ernest G. Brown
remembers Whistler's thoughtfulness and consideration when
his daughter sat for Pretty Netty Brown, one of the most
beautiful of the series. We have the same story from Mr.
Croal Thomson, of whose daughter, Little Evelyn, Whistler
made a lithograph. When he went to the house at Highgate
Evelyn would run to meet him with outstretched hands, her
face lifted up to be kissed, and while he worked the other
children would come and look on. Mr. Alan S. Cole has told
us that once Whistler found his three little daughters dec-
orating the drawing-room and hanging up a big " welcome "
in greens and flowers for the Mother who was away and to
return that afternoon. He forgot what he had come for, and
helped, as eager and excited as they, and stayed, a child
with the others, until Mrs. Cole arrived. He was walking
from the Paris studio one day with Mrs. Clifford Addams, and
they saw some children playing ; he made her stop — " I
must look at the babbies," he said, " you know, I love the
babbies 1 " Later, during his last illness, he liked to have
Mrs. Addams' own little girl, Diane, in the studio with him.
And there are the portraits of Mr. Brandon Thomas' baby,
Master Stephen Manuel, and others, that show his pleasure
in painting his small sitters. The children of the street
204 [1898
LILLIE IN OUR ALLEY
(Brown, and Gold)
BETWEEN LONDON AND PARIS
adored him, that is, the children of Chelsea and Fitzroy Street
who were used to artists and knew him well. There was one
he was for ever telling us about, a child of five or six, whose
precocity frightened while it fascinated him. " I likes
whusky," she confided to him one day, " and I likes Scoatch
best ! " She described her Christmas at home : " Father,
'e wus drunk, Mother wus drunk, Sister wus drunk, I wus
drunk — and we made the cat drunk too ! " A still younger
child gave him sittings, a baby of not more than three, the
little model for many of the pastels. She and the mother
were resting one afternoon, Whistler watching her every
movement. " Really," he said, " you are a beautiful little
thing 1 " She looked up at him, " Yes, I is, Whistler," she
lisped. There were exceptions, and his popularity with
children did not help him one Sunday afternoon, the only
time it is possible to sketch with comfort in the City, when he
went with J. to make a study of Clerkenwell Church tower
which was about to be restored. They drove to the church,
but the light was bad and the colour not right, so they
wandered off to Cloth Fair, already known to Whistler and,
until a few months ago, the most perfect, really the only, bit
of old London. Though Whistler had worked there many
times before, on this afternoon the children did not approve
of him. After a short encounter in which they, as always, got
the better, Whistler and J. retired to another cab followed by
any refuse that came handy. But the children he painted,
The Little Rose of Lyme Regis no less than The Little Sophie
of Soho and Lillie in our Alley, the small Italian waifs and
strays, were his friends, and no painter ever gave the grace
and feeling of childhood more sympathetically than he in
their portraits.
He was also absorbed in a series of nudes. Few of his
paintings toward the end satisfied him so entirely as the
small Phryne the Superb, Builder of Temples which he sent
1898] 205
first to the International in 1901 and next to the Salon in
1902. The first time he showed it to us he asked :
" Would she be more superb — more truly the Builder of Temples
— had I painted her what is called life-size by the foolish critics
who always bring out their foot-rule ? Is it a question of feet
and inches when you look at her ? "
He intended afterwards to paint an Eve, an Odalisque,
a Bathsheba, and a Danae, all on a very large scale. He at
one time arranged that his sketches for the designs should
be set up on the canvas by his apprentices, Mr. and Mrs.
Clifford Addams, but this was another of his unrealised plans.
Suggestions for the paintings were in the little pastels of
undraped or slightly draped figures, for which he found the
perfect model in London. Even when not in the studio, he
kept sketching her from memory and he was in despair when
she married and went to some remote colony. These pastels
are numerous and rank with his perfect work. They are
drawings on brown paper of girls dancing, posing with fans,
bending over bowls, drinking tea, usually filmy draperies
floating about them ; in some a young mother holds a child
in her arms or on her knees. Nothing could apparently be
slighter than the means by which the effect is produced ;
the modelling given with a few lines, the colour just a sug-
gestion. But they have the exquisiteness of little Tanagra
figures and are as complete.
All this work was done with an almost feverish concern
about mediums and materials and methods. He usually
sat now as he worked, and he wore spectacles, sometimes two
pairs, one over the other. He was never more careful with
the quality and mixing of his colours, the size and texture
and preparation of his canvas. At last, the knowledge
was coming to him, he said again and again. And he was
never more successful in obtaining the unity and harmony
he had always sought, in hiding the labour by which it was
206 [189&
A CUP OF TEA
(Pastel)
BETWEEN LONDON AND PARIS
jft
obtained, and in giving to his painting the beauty of sur-
face prized so highly. On the smaller canvas, there was
less difficulty in his method of painting the picture as a whole,
and not building it up out of successively painted parts.
Often the old charge of slightness and " no drawing " was
brought against the later pictures simply because in them he
achieved the perfection he required of himself, and they
looked " so easy ; " because his canvases, as a rule, were
uniform in size, and his subjects bore a certain superficial
resemblance to each other, the objection, which always
angered him, was made that he could no longer originate
new schemes, and he was reproached with monotony.
Though other portraits are more elaborate, not one is more
powerful and strong, more masterly as a study of character,
and therefore more individual than The Master Smith of
Lyme Regis. When it is contrasted with The Little Rose, the
embodiment of simple, sweet, healthy childhood, and The
Little Lady Sophie of Soho and Lillie in our Alley, the sickly
atmosphere of the slums reflected in their strange beauty,
and these again with the exuberant colour and life of Carmen,
there can be no question of the variety in Whistler's later
work, though, at the very end, a certain manner that might
have grown into mannerism became more marked. There was
a similarity in the general design. Most of the pictures were
heads and half-lengths of children and, except in the finest,
noses, eyes and mouth were alike in character, and hands
were badly drawn and clumsily put in. The colour was
mostly beautiful and he exulted in it, but, during the last
year or so, he must have known as well as anybody that his
power of work was leaving him.
Whistler spent the summer of 1898 chiefly in London,
going first to Mr. Heinemann's at Whitehall Court, then to
Garlant's. The delightful evenings of the year before began
again for us, and there was a fresh interest for him in the war
1898] 207
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
between the United States and Spain. It was " a wonderful
and beautiful war," he thought, the Spaniards were gentlemen,
and his pockets were filled with newspaper clippings to prove
it all. If we pointed out a blunder on the part of our soldiers,
if we gave chance a share in our victories, he was furious :
" Why say if any but Spaniards had been at the top of San
Juan, we never would have got there ? — Why question the */ ? —
The facts are all that count. No fight could be more beautifully
managed. I am telling you ! — I, a West Point man, know."
He was going out more by this time and seeing more people.
But his pleasure in general society was less than before his
wife's death and evidently he preferred the quiet and want
of restraint of the evenings with us. Then, too, chance
encounters in our flat were often the source of entertainment.
One we recall most vividly was with Frederick Sandys whom
he had not met for almost thirty years. Sandys was with us
in the late afternoon when Whistler knocked his usual
exaggerated postman's knock that could not be mistaken,
followed by the unfailing peal at the bell. Sandys seemed
agitated, but there was no escape. They gave each other a
chilly recognition and sat down and glared, Whistler looking
precisely like Boldini's portrait. But presently they began
to talk, and they talked till the early hours of the morning
as if they were back at Tudor House ; Sandys, as then, in
the white waistcoat with gold buttons, but bent with age,
Whistler as straight and erect, but now wrinkled and grey.
He returned to Paris late in the autumn, settling there for
the winter. Except for his attacks of illness, there was but
one interruption to his work. Mr. Heinemann was married
at Porto D'Anzio in February 1899, and Whistler went to
Italy to act as best man at the wedding. He made on this
journey his first and only visit to Rome. He was disappointed.
To us he described the city as " a bit of an old ruin alongside
of a railway station where I saw — Mrs. Potter Palmer." Of
208 [1899
THE LITTLE LADY SOPHIE OF SOHO
Rose and Gold
BETWEEN LONDON AND PARIS
the many other things he admitted afterwards that he had
seen, nothing interested him but St. Peter's :
" Rome was awful — a hard sky all the time, a glaring sun and
a strong wind. After I left the railway station, there were big
buildings more like Whiteley's than anything I expected in the
Eternal City. St. Peter's was fine, with its great yellow walls,
the interior too big perhaps, but you had only to go inside to
know where Wren got his ideas — how he, well, you know, robbed
Peter's to build Paul's ! And I like the Vatican, the Swiss
Guards, great big fellows, lolling about, as in Dumas ; they made
you think of D'Artagnan, Aramis and the others. And Michael
Angelo ? a tremendous fellow, yes ; the frescoes in the Sistine
Chapel ?— interesting as pictures, but with all the legs and arms of
the figures sprawling everywhere, I could not see the decoration.
There can be no decoration without repose : a tremendous fellow,
but not so much in the David and other things I was shown in
Rome and Florence, as in that one unfinished picture at the
National Gallery. There is often elegance in the loggie of Raphael,
but the big frescoes of the stanze did not interest me."
Velasquez's portrait of Innocent in the Doria Palace, he,
unfortunately, did not see.
During the journey to Porto D'Anzio, Princess ,
one of the wedding guests, who heard vaguely that Whistler
was an artist, inquired of him :
" Monsieur fait de la peinture, n'est ce pas ? "
" Out, Princesse"
" On me Favait dit. Moi aussi, fen fait, Monsieur."
" Charmant, Princesse, nous sommes des collegues"
On the way back from Rome, Whistler stopped at Florence.
Of his stay there, Mr. J. Kerr-Lawson wrote to us :
" McNeill has been here and just gone — we had him lightly on
our hands all day yesterday.
" We didn't ' do ' Florence for there was a fierce glaring sun and
a horrible Tramontane raging — so we spent the best of the morning
trying to write a letter in the Roccoco manner to the Syndic of
Murano quite unsuccessfully. [This was after the awards in the
1899] ii :o 200/
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Venice International Exhibition.] The effort seems to have been
suggested by the festive oratory at Porto D'Anzio. The Pope and
the King both sent delegates. The purple and scarlet speeches of
the Monsignori and the Cardinal seem to have inspired the Master
to emulate their achievements in rhetoric. However, we found
that English prose could not bear the strain of perpetual super-
latives, and so our designs upon the poor little Syndic came to
nothing.
" After luncheon I took him down to the Uffizi, where we had a
good deal of fun in the Portrait Gallery. We seemed to be the
only people rash enough to brave the awful wind, for we saw no
one in the Gallery but a frozen Guardia. He — poor fellow — was
brushed aside by a magnificent and truly awe-inspiring gesture as
we approached that battered and begrimed portrait in which
Velasquez still looks out upon the world which he has mastered
with an expression of superbly arrogant scorn.
" It was a dramatic moment — the flat-brimmed chapeau de
haut forme came off with a grand sweep and was deposited on a
stool with the long stick, and then the Master, standing back
about six feet from the picture and drawing himself up to much
more than his own full natural height, with his left hand upon his
breast and the right thrust out magisterially, exclaimed ' Qudle
allure ! ' Then you should have seen him. After the solemn act of
Homage, when he had resumed his hat and pole, we relaxed con-
siderably over the lesser immortals of this crazy and incongruous
Valhalla — what an ill-assorted company ! How did they all get
together ? Liotard, the Swiss, jostles Michael Angelo, Guiseppi
MacPherson rubs shoulders with Titian, Herkomer hangs beside
Ingres, and Poynter is a pendant to Sir Joshua. There are the
greatest and the least, the noblest and the meanest brought
together by the capricious folly of succeeding directors and har-
monised by that touch of vanity that makes the whole world
akin.
" One wonders whom they will ask next. Certainly not
Whistler. They knew quite well he was here, but not the
slightest notice was taken of him. En revanche, every now and
then some vulgar mediocrity passes this way and then the foolish
Florentines are lavish with their laurels."
After some of these absences from Paris and his studio,
Whistler discovered that pictures and prints were disappearing.
210
THE VIOLINIST
BETWEEN LONDON AND PARIS
It worried him, and various means were taken to stop the
theft and to recover the missing articles. We have little
doubt that, at times, Whistler lost prints through his own
carelessness. We know that once, certainly, his method of
drying his etchings between sheets of blotting-paper thrown
on the floor was disastrous. One morning an artist came to
see us bringing a number of beautiful proofs of the Venice Set,
still in sheets of blotting paper as he had bought them from
an old rag and paper man in Red Lion Passage, who thought
they could be no good because the margins were cut down and
who sold them for a shilling apiece. The artist frankly
admitted that he did not care for them, and we offered him
half a crown. " O," he said, " as you are willing to give
that, now I shall find out what they are really worth." He
got sixty pounds for them, but several of the prints separately
have since sold for very much more. Accidents like this
would account for some of the things that Whistler thought
were stolen, but not for all. A few works that had disappeared
were actually recovered during his lifetime. Shortly after
his death, many were sold at the Hotel Drouot, and more
recently others of the missing works have come into the hands
of dealers. Only those near him at the time can realise how
much this troubled and annoyed him during his last years.
At the same time, too, he began to suffer from another of the
evils of success. Pictures somewhat resembling his, and
attributed to him, began to appear, especially at auctions, and
others were sent to him for identification or signature, by
persons who had purchased them. If he knew beforehand
that one of these shams was coming up in the auction room,
he would send a representative to try and stop the sale, or, if
submitted to him, he would object to give it up again. Neither
expedient met with marked success. Even at present there
is at least one person who is deliberately making Whistlers,
especially water-colours.
1899] 211
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Whistler could not stay long from London, and the early
summer of 1899 saw him back once more, living at Garlant's
and making his usual visits to Mr. Heinemann, now at
Weybridge. He was in town for the sequel to the Eden
affair. He heard that, on July 15, there was to be a sale of
Sir William Eden's pictures at Christie's. He went to it,
and came to us afterwards.
" Really, it has been beautiful — I know you will enjoy it — It
occurred to me in the morning — the Baronet's sale to-day — h'm —
the Butterfly should see how things are going ! And I went
home, and I changed my morning dress, my dandy straw hat —
and then — very correct and elegant, I sauntered down King Street
into Christie's. At the top of the stairway, some one spoke to
me. — ' Well, you know, my dear friend,' I said, ' I do not know who
you are, but you shall have the honour of taking me in ! ' And, on
his arm, I walked into the big room. The auctioneer was crying,
* Going! Going! Thirty shillings! Going!' 'Ha! ha ! ' I
laughed — not loudly, not boisterously — it was very delicately,
very neatly done. But the room was electrified. Some of the
henchmen were there ; they grew rigid, afraid to move, afraid to
glance my way out of the corners of their eyes. ' Twenty shillings,
Going ! ' the auctioneer would cry. ' Ha ! ha ! ' I would laugh
and things went for nothing, and the henchmen trembled. Louis
Fagan came across the room to speak to me — Fagan, representing
the British Museum, as it were, was quite the most distinguished
man there. And now, having seen how things were, I took
Fagan's arm — ' You,' I said, * may have the honour of taking
me out.' "
He dined with us the next evening and found Mr. Harry
Wilson, whose brother-in-law, Mr. Sydney Morse, had been
the very friend upon whose arm Whistler had entered the
auction room. Mr. Wilson was already full of the story, and
confirmed the " electric shock " to the atmosphere when
Whistler appeared at the sale.
He ran over to Holland once during the summer. Part of
the time he was at Pourville, near Dieppe, where he had
taken a house for Miss Birnie Philip and her mother. He
212
BETWEEN LONDON AND PARIS
was constantly going backward and forward to London and
Paris. The sea was on the right side at Dieppe, at Madame
Lefevre's restaurant he could get as good a breakfast as in
Paris, and many small oils and water-colours were done
before the bad weather drove him away.
In Paris, during the winter of 1899-1900, he took two little
rooms for himself at the Hotel Chatham, where the last
three years he had often stayed. He was afraid to risk the
dampness of the Rue du Bac. He had fewer friends in Paris
than in London, and he was often lonely. He would go to
see M. Drouet, and say to him, " Tu sais, je suis ennuyS"
And M. Drouet, to amuse him, would get up little dinners,
at which all who were left of the students of forty years before
met again. One dinner, not long before his death, was given
in honour of Becquet, whom he had etched. A wreath of
laurel was prepared. During dinner M. Drouet said he had
met many great men, but, pour la morale, none greater than
Becquet, who was moved to tears. Then Whistler said they
had wanted to present him with some little souvenir, and the
laurel wreath was brought and offered to him by Whistler
and Becquet fairly broke down ; he " would hang it on the
walls of his studio, always to have it before him," he said.
Once, M. Drouet took Whistler to the fair at Neuilly, made
him ride in a merry-go-round. Whistler lost his hat, dropped
his eyeglass. " What would London journalists say if they
could see me now ? " he asked. They generally dined at
Beaug^'s, a little restaurant in the Passage des Panoramas,
where M. Drouet and a group of artists, literary men and
barristers, met in the evening. Whistler renewed the old
intimacy with M. Oulevey, whom he had barely seen since
the early Paris days. Madame Oulevey's memories are,
above all, of Whistler's dining with them in the Passage des
Favorites at the other end of the Rue Vaugirard, when he
wore his customary pumps so that, a storm coming up and
1900] 213
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
not a cab to be found in their remote quarter, they had to
keep him for hours. His pumps left an impression on M.
Drouet, too, who was sure it was because Whistler wore them
by day and could not walk in them, that he was so often seen
driving through the streets in a cab. And he seemed so
tired then, M. Drouet said, half the time lying back, fast
asleep.
In February, the sad news came to him of the death of his
brother, Dr. Whistler. The two brothers had been devoted
to one another since boyhood, and Whistler felt the loss
acutely. It made him the more ready to rejoin his friends
in London, and two months later found him staying with
Mr. Heinemann, who had moved from Whitehall Court to
Norfolk Street.
There E. dined to meet him the evening after his arrival.
Mr. Arthur Symons gives, in his Studies in Seven Arts, his
impression of the dinner, and of Whistler :
" I never saw any one so feverishly alive as this little, old man,
with his bright, withered cheeks, over which the skin was drawn
tightly, his darting eyes, under their prickly bushes of eyebrow,
his fantastically creased black and white curls of hair, his bitter
and subtle mouth, and, above all, his exquisite hands, never at
rest."
To us, who knew Whistler, the idea of his age was never
present. He always seemed the youngest in whatever
company he was. But to those who saw him for the first
time the fact was evident that he was growing old. He had,
moreover, been before the public for so long that people got
an exaggerated idea of his age. Mr. Symons continues, in
his recollections of that evening :
" Some person officially connected with art was there, an urbane
sentimentalist ; and after every official platitude there was a
sharp crackle from Whistler's corner, and it was as if a rattlesnake
had leapt suddenly out."
214 [1900
THE SEA, POURVILLE
1JOIUN HOOD KAY
BETWEEN LONDON AND PARIS
When the " urbane sentimentalist " remarked that
" There never was such a thing as an art-loving people, an
artistic period,"
Whistler said :
" Dear me ! it's very flattering to find that I have made you
see at last. But really, you know, I shall have to copyright my
little things after this ! "
When some one objected to the good manners of the French
because they were all on the surface, Whistler thought,
" Well, you know, a very good place to have them."
1900] 215
CHAPTER XLIV. THE INTERNATIONAL.
THE YEARS EIGHTEEN NINETY-SEVEN
TO NINETEEN HUNDRED AND THREE
THE Exhibition of International Art, the original name of
the International Society of Sculptors, Painters and
Gravers, was Whistler's idea. He had always hoped for a
gallery where he could show his work in his own way, with
the work of men in sympathy with him. Often and often,
he talked to us of this. It mattered little to him where the
gallery should be — in New York or London, Paris or Berlin ;
the exhibition should not be local or national, but an Art
Congress for the artists of the world. This was his aim from
the beginning. The men whom he wished to have associated
with himself lived mostly in London, where now the greater
part of his time was spent, and London seemed the place for
the first exhibition. He and Mr. E. A. Walton together tried
to get a lease of the Grosvenor Gallery, and, when they failed
in this, he turned to the Grafton. Here also there were
difficulties, and nothing definite was done until 1897, when a
young journalist, who was also a painter, Mr. Francis Howard,
conceived the idea of promoting a company to hold an ex-
hibition at Prince's Skating Club, Knightsbridge. As the
artists were to incur no financial responsibilities and have
complete artistic control, Whistler consented to co-operate.
The first meeting was on December 23, 1897, and there were
present John Lavery, E. A. Walton, G. Sauter, and Francis
Howard. Whistler, who had been consulted, at first agreed
that members of the Royal Academy and other artistic
216 [1897
THE INTERNATIONAL
bodies, should be admitted, and at the second meeting,
February 7, 1898, Mr. Alfred Gilbert, R.A., took the chair.
A circular, unsigned and undated, was then issued, and on it
appeared the names of James McNeill Whistler, Alfred Gilbert,
Frederick Sandys, John Lavery, James Guthrie, Arthur
Melville, Charles W. Furse, Charles Ricketts, C. Hazlewood
Shannon, E. A. Walton, Joseph Farquharson, Maurice
Greiffenhagen, Will Rothenstein, G. Sauter, Francis Howard.
It stated, with a clumsiness Whistler could hardly have passed
had he seen the circular beforehand, that the object of
the Society was the much-needed " organisation in London
of Exhibitions of the finest Art of the time . . . the non-
recognition of nationality in Art, and the hanging and placing
of works irrespective of such consideration . . . The Ex-
hibitions, filling as they will an unoccupied place in the
cosmopolitan ground of International Art, will not be in
opposition to existing institutions."
An Executive Council appointed itself, and, on February
16, 1898, Whistler was unanimously elected Chairman. The
most distinguished artists of every nationality were invited
to join an Honorary Council. The Executive, to which J.,
on Whistler's nomination, was elected in March, had entire
charge of the affairs of the Society. There were to be no
ordinary members, but only " honorary " members by
invitation.
Personal jealousies, and personal preferences immediately
crept in, as they always will. Mr. Gilbert resigned, which
was much to be regretted, and several other English members
withdrew from the Council which speedily became as inter-
national as the name of the Society into which it formed
itself two months later (April 23), when officers were elected,
and, Whistler proposed by Mr. Lavery, and seconded by Mr.
J. J. Shannon, was made President, with Mr. Lavery as Vice-
President, and Mr. Francis Howard as Honorary Secretary.
J898] 217
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
The International was the second society of artists over
which Whistler presided. Only ten years had passed since
his resignation from the British Artists', but the change in
his position before the world was great. The British Artists,
an old and decrepit body, had chosen him as President, in
the hope that his own notoriety and his following of
young men would bring them the advertisement they needed ;
the International, a new and vigorous organisation, elected
him because they knew that no other artist could give them
such distinction. In the 'eighties, Whistler was still mis-
trusted ; in the 'nineties, he was universally acknowledged as
one of the few great artists of the nineteenth century. The
change in his own position was not greater than that which
his influence had made in contemporary art. This influence
had been pointed out by the few for some years past. But
the last decade had strengthened it until it could be denied
by none. The younger generation had been accepted in
the meanwhile, and the two groups of most prominence and
promise were the first to admit their debt to Whistler and to
proclaim it openly in their work. The young men of the
New English Art Club had seen in subject and sentiment a
temptation of the devil and devoted themselves to the dis-
covery of the " painter's poetry " in the life about them,
and the beauty of colour and form wherever it might lurk,
whether in the London 'bus transformed by the magic of the
London atmosphere, or in the Lion-Comique, transfigured in
the light of the Music Hall stage. The young men of the
Glasgow School had been pre-occupied with decorative design,
with " pattern," with colour schemes, endeavouring to make
an " arrangement " of their every portrait, and in their
every landscape to produce a " harmony." No doubt,
study and imitation of Whistler were, in some cases, pushed
to folly. But all that was healthiest and best in the art of
the country was coming from these two groups, many of
218 [1898
THE WIDOW
THE INTERNATIONAL
whom had established an international reputation for them-
selves by the time the new Society was founded. Even in
the Academy, anecdote lost for an interval its old pre-
eminence, and it looked as if Academicians began to under-
stand that the painter's only object was not to tell a story.
A new generation of critics had grown up whose belief in
Whistler was no less than that of the new generation of
artists, and Whistler's words and definitions became the
cliches of the criticism of the day.
Nor was his influence confined to England. From the
early 'eighties, when the jury had become more representative
at the old Salon,the pictures he sent to it had been honoured.
From the early 'nineties, the new Salon seemed bent on em-
phasising with fresh proofs its acceptance of him as master.
Other recent influences in France had waxed and waned. The
realism of Bastien-Lepage, which sank into photography with
painters of less accomplishment, and the square brush-mark
were already vieux jeu. Impressionism had swamped itself in
chemical problems and the technique of the Impressionists
had been degraded to the exaggerations and absurdities of
the Pointillistes. Whistler brought with him technical
sanity, a feeling for beauty, and reverence for fine tradition,
and he, who had been mistaken for the most eccentric of all
poseurs in paint, gradually led the way back to dignity and
reticence in art. The effect of his example was revealed in
the work not only of French, but of American and other
artists of almost every nationality, either by their frank
imitation or else by their attitude towards Nature and the
reserve of their technique. Because of the universal recog-
nition now accorded him, no one anywhere was better qualified
for the Presidency of an International Society of artists.
The new post was of much more importance than the
Presidency of the British Artists, as Whistler realised. The
honour came, it is true, from no official body. Officially, to
1898] 219
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
the last, he was destined to go without the recognition due
to him. In France he was but an ordinary SocUtaire of the
Sociiii Nationale des Beaux-Arts The National Academy of
Design in America was as indifferent to him as the Royal
Academy in England. His membership in the Academies of
Dresden, Munich, Rome and Scotland was a mere compliment
— a compliment he could and always did appreciate — but it
carried no intimate relations and no responsibilities with it,
and required of him no active work. The new Society, if
not official, consisted in its Executive of most of the strongest
" outsiders " in England, and had the support of the most
distinguished men of his profession throughout the world.
Their choice of him was not more an acknowledgment of his
supremacy as artist than an expression of confidence in
him as leader, and he took no less pleasure in their tribute
than trouble not to disappoint their expectations. His
interest was practical until the last. His experience with
the British Artists was a help in constituting the Society.
The sole authority rested with the Executive Council the
members of which elected themselves and could not be got
rid of except by their voluntary resignation or expulsion.
Theoretically, the idea was magnificent, if the narrowest and
most autocratic conceivable. " Napoleon and I do these
things," we have heard Whistler say, and the disaster at
Suffolk Street had taught him that an intelligent autocrat
is the best leader possible. His policy, however, if autocratic,
was broad. In most societies, painting held a monopoly,
but, in his, sculpture was to be relegated to no second place
and black-and-white, or " Graving " he called it, was to be
treated as the equal of both as it never had been before. All
his rules and regulations were as sane and practical, and if
weakness creeps, or has crept, into the Society, it must
come from disregard of them.
The first exhibition was opened in May 1898. The Skating
220 [1898
THE LITTLE BLUE BONNET
Blue and Coral
THE INTERNATIONAL
Rii\k at Knightsbridge was divided into three large and two
small galleries. Whistler's scheme of decoration, for in this
particular he carried on the methods adopted in his own
shows and at Suffolk Street, was one hitherto never attempted
in a large English exhibition, and the hanging was more
perfect than any seen up to that time even on the Continent.
The President's velarium, now without question of patent,
was used, and he designed the seal for the Society. The
artistic success of the show could not be questioned. No
such collection of modern art had ever before been made in
London, and it was a proof that Whistler, in reality, was as
liberal in matters of art as he was narrow and prejudiced in
the popular conception of him. In one of the many often-
repeated stories about him, when he was told that he and
Velasquez were the only two painters in the world, he is
reported to have said, " Why drag in Velasquez ? " At the
International he " dragged in " all the artists all over the
world who were doing the best, or the most individual work.
Von Uhde, Manet, Degas, Cecilia Beaux, Segantini, Blanche,
Lavery, Thaulow, Zorn, Thoma, Liebermann, Walton,
Guthrie, Nicholson, Muhrman, Monet, Khnopff, Sauter,
Van Toroop, Aman-Jean, Fantin-Latour, Stuck, Renoir,
Puvis de Chavannes, Alexander, Fragiacomo, McClure,
Hamilton, Maris, were a few of the painters. Whistler
exerted himself to arrange a group of his own work worthy
of the President, sending several earlier pictures, At the Piano,
La Princesse du Pays de la Porcelaine, Rosa Corder, among
them, and two or three of the latest, The Philosopher, The
Little Blue Bonnet, his own portrait. The sculpture was as
interesting as the painting, Rodin, St. Gaudens, MacMonnies
and Meunier exhibiting. And drawings and engravings were
for the first time properly presented, as they deserved to be,
Whistler, Renouard, Vuillard, Vallotton, C. H. Shannon,
Klinger, Forain, Lautrec, Pennell, Lunois, Koepping, Boldini,
1898] 221
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Besnard, Carriere, Bauer, Lepere, Pissarro, Vierge, Steinlen,
all contributing, and space being made for a large number
of drawings by Beardsley, who had died but recently.
Before the show was over, delegates were sent, and com-
munications received, from Paris and Venice, asking for an
exchange of exhibitions.
Whistler came from Paris for the opening, a quiet affair, as
the endeavour to obtain the presence of the Prince of Wales
was unsuccessful, and lunched with the Council on the
opening day, and attended one or two Sunday afternoon
receptions. If he did not inaugurate it, he thoroughly agreed
with the scheme of a fine illustrated catalogue, which was
published by Mr. Heinemann, with The Little Blue Bonnet,
in photogravure, as frontispiece.
Whistler soon realised that it was utterly impossible for a
man to serve actively in two rival societies ; he had said as
much when he was trying to instil new life into the British
Artists ; and he now determined that members of the Council
of the International who were members of other societies
must leave the Society, or, if not, he would. His decision
was precipitated by a new election to the Council. He was
in Paris at the time, and the fact that two members of the
Council left London at almost an hour's notice for the Rue du
Bac to arrange matters with him, shows how completely and
actively he identified himself with the affairs of the Society.
The whole episode is typical. They arrived early in the
morning. He was not up, but sent word that they must
breakfast with him in the studio. During breakfast he talked
of everything but the Society ; after breakfast he made them
listen to a Fourth of July spread-eagle oration squeaked out of
a primitive gramophone somebody had presented him with,
to his enduring amusement ; and not until the last twenty
minutes before they had to start on their return, would he
refer to the deadlock in the Council. Then he had all his
22* [1898
THE INTERNATIONAL
plans ready and stated just what he proposed to do, just what
he wanted done, just what must be done — just, we might add,
what was done. And not merely at every crisis, but in every
detail, it was the same. Once, some years before, in speaking
of another independent society, he said, " Ah, the New
English Art Club — it's only a raft ! " But the International
he called *4 a fighting ship," of which he, as Captain, had
taken command. He was not President in name alone. He
directed the management of the Society, no measure could
be taken until it had been submitted to him and approved by
him. He expected the deference the position entitled him
to ; in return, he gave the practical aid not always to be had
from a President. And so it always was. Even during his last
illness, nothing was done without his knowledge and sanction.
The second International Exhibition, or " Art Congress,"
was held also at Knightsbridge from May to July 1899. The
President came over, when the hanging was finished. It was
arranged this year that a special show of his etchings should
be made, and a small room, decorated for the purpose, was
called the White Room. As Whistler was in Paris, J. and
Mrs. Whibley were deputed to go to the studio and select the
prints. J. chose a number that had not been seen before,
principally from the Naval Review Series. Whistler, for
some reason, resented the selection when first he saw the
prints on the walls in the special room reserved for them.
The Committee were in consternation and sent for J. Whistler
said to him,
" Now look what you have done ! "
" But what have I done ? Have I done you any harm ? "
And that was the end of it. His objection may have been
because he feared, as we remember his saying of these prints
another time, that they were " beyond the understanding of
the abomination outside." But his fury lasted only for the
1899] 223
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
moment, and he and J. and Lavery passed a good part of
that night at work in the gallery on the catalogue.
Whistler received on the opening day, and in the evening
the first of the Round Table Council dinners was held at the
Caf6 Royal, Sir James Guthrie presiding. In an admirable
speech he expressed not only the delight of the Council at
being able to enlist the sympathy and aid of Whistler, but
their love and appreciation for the man and his work. The
sympathy and co-operation then existing between the Presi-
dent and most of the Council was genuine, and he appreciated
it quite as much as they did. After dinner, a few of the
Council went on with him to Mr. Lavery's, where he was
staying, and there he read the Baronet and the Butterfly, which
had just appeared in Paris. This, because of absence or ill-
health, was the only Council dinner he went to, though several
have been since held, at which M. Rodin has presided.
Chase, M6nard, Baertson, Gandara, Kroyer, Melchers,
Cottet, Klint, Mancini, Simon, were among the painters
hitherto not known in England, who were seen at the second
show, while Mrs. Clifford Addams (Miss Bate), " massiere of
the Academic Carmen, Eleve de Whistler," showed for the first
time Etude de la Semaine. The President exhibited several
of the small canvases he had recently finished. There was
sculpture by Dubois, Dillens and Rodin, and drawings by
Alfred Stevens, Menzel, Rops, Legros, Timothy Cole, Mil-
cendeau, Sullivan, Kroyer, Grasset, H. Wilson. Three illus-
trated catalogues of this exhibition were published by Messrs.
W. H. Ward and Company. Whistler's Chelsea Rags and
Trouville were both included in the ordinary editions, and
the Little Lady Sophie of Soho and Lillie in our Alley were
added to the edition de luxe. The exhibition was even less of
a success financially than the first and the Society of artists
came near being involved in the crash which overtook the
financing company. To avoid any complications, Whistler
224 [1899
LA 1'RIXCESSE DU PAYS DE LA PORCELAINE
THE INTERNATIONAL
insisted that he should have an Honorary Solicitor and
Treasurer, and Mr. William Webb was appointed.
In both exhibitions attempts to attract the public with
music and receptions and entertainments were made, but
Whistler strongly objected to music, saying that the two arts
should be kept quite separate, as people who came to hear
the music could not see the pictures, and people who came to
see the pictures would not want to hear the music. There
were also serious misunderstandings with the proprietor and
the promoters, the former wishing to see some of his friends
represented, and the latter to see some of their money back,
and the outlook was rather gloomy.
No show was held in 1900, the Paris Universal Exhibition
taking up most of the members' energy, and it was not until
the autumn of 1901 that the third exhibition was opened at
the Galleries of the Royal Institute in Piccadilly. There had
been official and other changes. Mr. Sauter had been made
Honorary Secretary pro tern., and the Society which up till
now had consisted of the Council only, admitted Associates,
and with their election the International character began to
wane, for, out of thirty-two Associates elected, twenty-eight
were resident in Great Britain. The third show resulted in
no financial loss, and several new men were hung — Morrice,
Anglada, Israels, Harpignies, Wittsen, Claus, Le Sidaner,
Van Bartels, Buysse. The President sent seven small paintings
and pastels. Of these Phryne the Superb was reproduced
in the catalogue, as well as Gold and Orange — The Neighbours,
and Green and Silver — The Great Sea. Mr. Addams, Whistler's
second apprentice, exhibited with his wife.
Mr. Sauter devoted himself to furthering the International
idea of the President, and, under his Secretaryship, the
International Society held exhibitions of its English members'
work in Budapest, Munich, and Diisseldorf, and afterwards
in Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Chicago, and St. Louis. On
1901] ii :P 225
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
June 11, 1903, Mr. Sauter was relieved temporarily of the
Secretaryship, and J. took his place. Within a few weeks
he had the painful duty to call a meeting to announce to
the Society the loss they had sustained by the death of
their President.
Nevertheless, the Council determined to follow the traditions
of Whistler, and to honour his memory as well as they could.
Not only were the American exhibitions carried out, but
the Society organised a show of British Art in Diisseldorf,
and at once made arrangements for a Memorial Exhibition,
of the President's works in London. In the autumn of 1903,
M. Rodin accepted the Presidency of the Society, and the
fourth exhibition, the first held in the New Gallery, was
opened in January 1904, in which the late President was
represented by the Symphony in White, No. Ill, lent by Mr.
Edmund Davis; Rose and Gold — The Tulip, lent by Miss
Birnie Philip ; Valparaiso, lent by Mr. Graham Robertson ;
Symphony in Grey — Battersea, lent by Mrs. Armitage ; and
Study for a Fan, lent by Mr. C. H. Shannon.
This exhibition was followed in 1905 by the most important
and successful show in the career of the International Society
of Sculptors, Painters, and Gravers — the Memorial Exhibition
of the works of James McNeill Whistler. For complete
success it lacked only the co-operation of Whistler's executrix,
which the Council originally understood was promised but
which was ultimately withheld. There can be no doubt,
however, that it was by far the most important and rep-
resentative exhibition of his works ever given, superior from
every point of view to the small exhibition at the Scottish
Academy, in many respects to the Boston show, and also to
the Paris Memorial Exhibition which was altogether dis-
appointing. The Exhibition at the New Gallery contained,
as can be seen from its elaborate catalogue, more especially
the beautifully illustrated edition de luxe published by Mr,
226 [1902
THE INTERNATIONAL
Heinemann, nearly all the principal oil-paintings, the most
complete collection of etchings ever got together, the complete
series of lithographs and innumerable pastels, water-colours
and drawings.
190S]
227
CHAPTER XLV. THE ACADEMIE CAR-
MEN. THE YEARS EIGHTEEN NINETY-
EIGHT TO NINETEEN HUNDRED AND
ONE
IN the autumn of 1898, a circular appeared in Paris, which
created a sensation in the studios. Copies came to
London and were received in New York. Whistler was
going to open a school, the Academic Whistler. The announce-
ment was made by his model, Madame Carmen Rossi. We
have never seen the circular, but Whistler at once wrote from
Whitehall Court, where he was staying (October 1, 1898),
to the papers in Paris and London,
" to correct an erroneous statement, or rather to modify an
exaggeration, that an otherwise bona fide prospectus is circulating
in Paris. An atelier is to be opened in the Passage Stanislas, and,
in company with my friend, the distinguished sculptor, Mr.
MacMonnies, I have promised to attend its classes. The patronne
has issued a document in which this new Arcadia is described as
the Academie Whistler and further qualified as the Anglo-American
School. I would like it to be understood that, having hitherto
abstained from all plot of instruction, this is no sudden assertion
in the Vitte Lumiere of my own. Nor could I be in any way
, responsible for the proposed mysterious irruption in Paris of
whatever Anglo-American portends. ' American,' I take it, is
synonymous with modesty, and ' Anglo,' in art, I am unable to
grasp at all, otherwise than as suggestive of complete innocence
and the blank of Burlington House. I purpose only, then, to
visit, as harmlessly as may be, in turn with Mr. MacMonnies, the
new academy, which has my best wishes, and, if no other good
come of it, at least to rigorously carry out my promise of never
appearing anywhere else."
228 [1898
THE ACADEMIE CARMEN
Whistler said also that he had nothing to do with the
financial management of the school, everything with the
system of teaching, and that he proposed to offer the students
his knowledge of a lifetime.
The Passage Stanislas is a small street, running off the
Rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs, in which some very well-
known artists have, or have had, their studios. No. 6 was
a house with two storeys, and a courtyard or garden at the
back, which was afterwards covered with glass. Over the
front door, we are told, the sign Academic Whistler did appear,
but only for a short time. The glazed courtyard became
a studio, and there was another above, to which a fine old
staircase led. The house had been built, or adapted, as a
studio, and, except that the walls were distempered, no
change was made. The rooms were fitted up with school
furniture : easels, stools and chairs. For this, we believe,
Whistler advanced the money. But there was little risk.
Within a few days, a vast number of pupils had put their
names down, and expressed their intention of deserting the
ateliers of Paris, some left the Slade and other English schools,
and still others came from Germany and America. Whistler
was delighted, and he told us he had heard that other ateliers
were emptying, students coming in squads from everywhere,
that the Passage was crowded, and that owners of carriages
struggled with rapins and prize-winners to get in.
Miss Inez Bate (Mrs. Clifford Addams), who was among
the earliest to put down her name though she was not in
Paris at the moment, who remained in the school throughout
its whole existence, and who became Whistler's apprentice,
has not only told us the story of the Academic Carmen, but has
given to us, to use in this book, her record of it and of Whistler's
methods of teaching, written at his request and partially
corrected by him. It is really the record of his " knowledge
of a lifetime " for he taught in the school the truths he had
1898] 229
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
been years in developing and formulating for himself. Miss
Bate says that Whistler being in London, did not attend the
first week, to the great disappointment of the pupils. But
he came over in the second or third. At the school, as always,
he insisted on seriousness in work. It was not to be like
other schools ; instead of singing, there was to be no talking ;
smoking was not to be allowed ; the walls were not to be
decorated with charcoal ; the usual " studio cackle " was
forbidden ; if people wanted these things, they could go
back from whence they had come. He was to be received
as a master visiting his pupils, not as the good fellow in his
shirt-sleeves. Certainly, for the first weeks, things did not
go very well. " Carmen " was not used to her post, the
students were not used to such a master, and Whistler was
not used to them. A massier was appointed, and the men
and women, who had been working together, were separated,
and two classes were formed. Within a very short time,
Miss Bate was chosen massiere, a position she held until the
school closed. She writes in her record :
" The ateliers, under the direction of Madame Carmen Rossi,
were thrown open and the Academie began its somewhat disturbed
career in the fall of 1898. Students hastened from all parts,
hearing the confirmation of Mr. Whistler's rumoured intention to
teach — a letter was received from him announcing that he would
shortly appear — and, on the day appointed, the Academie Carmen
had the honour of receiving him for the first time. He proceeded
to look at the various studies, most carefully noting under whose
teaching and in what school each student's former studies had
been pursued.
" Most kindly something was said to each, and to one student
who offered apology for his drawing, Mr. Whistler said simply, ' It
is unnecessary — I really come to learn — feeling you are all much
cleverer than I.' ^
"Mr. Whistler, before he left, expressed to the Patronne his
wish that there should be separate ateliers for the Ladies and
Gentlemen, and that the present habit of both working together
should be immediately discontinued.
230 [1898
THE ACADEMIE CARMEN
" His second visit took place on the following Friday, and was
spent in consideration of the more advanced students. One, whose
study suffered from the introduction of an unbeautiful object in
the background, because it happened to be there, was told that,
* One's study, even the most unpretentious, is always one's picture,
and must be, in form and arrangement, a perfect harmony from
the beginning.' With this unheard-of advice, Mr. Whistler
turned to the students, whose work he had been inspecting, and
intimated that they might begin to paint, and so really learn to
draw, telling them that the true understanding of drawing the
• figure comes by having learned to appreciate the subtle modellings
byjthe use of the infinite gradation that paint makes possible.
" A third visit, and a memorable one, took place on the following
Wednesday.
" He turned to one student, and picked up her palette, pointing
out that being the instrument on which the painter plays his
harmony, it must be beautiful always, as the tenderly cared-for
violin of the great musician is kept in condition worthy of his
music.
" Before passing on, he suggested that it would be a pleasure to
him to show them his way of painting, and if this student could,
without too much difficulty, clean her palette, he would endeavour,
before his present visit ended, to show them ' the easiest way of
getting into difficulties ! '
" And it was then that Mr. Whistler's own palette was gener-
ously given, for upon the one presented to him he made careful
preparation in his own manner, sending for simple colours and
placing them in his scientific and harmonious arrangement.
" Mr. Whistler's whole system lies in the complete mastery of the
palette — that is to say, on the palette the work must be done and
the truth obtained, before transferring one note on to the canvas.
" He usually recommended the small oval palettes as being
easy to hold and place his arrangement of colour upon. White
was then placed at the top edge in the centre, in generous quantity,
and to the left came in succession : yellow ochre, raw Sienna, raw
umber, cobalt, and mineral blue, while to right : vermilion,
Venetian red, Indian red, and black. Sometimes the burnt
Sienna would be placed between the Venetian and Indian red, if
the harmony to be painted seemed to desire this arrangement, but
generally the former placing of colours was insisted upon.
" A mass of colour, giving the fairest tone of the flesh, would
1898} 231
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
then be mixed and laid in the centre of the palette near the top,
and a broad band of black curving downward from this mass of
light flesh note to the bottom, gave the greatest depth possible in
any shadow ; and so, between the prepared light and the black,
the colour was spread, and mingled with any of the various pure
colours necessary to obtain the desired changes of note, until there
appeared on the palette a tone picture of the figure that was to be
painted — and at the same time a preparation for the background
was made on the left in equally careful manner.
" Many brushes were used, each one containing a full quantity
of every dominant note, so that when the palette presented as near
a reproduction of the model and background as the worker could
obtain, the colour could be put down with a generous flowing brush.
" Mr. Whistler also said, ' I do not interfere with your individu-
ality.— I place in your hands a sure means of expressing it, if you
can learn to understand, and if you have your own sight of Nature
still.' Each student prepared his or her palette to suit individual
taste — in some the mass of light would exceed the dark ; in others,
the reverse would be the case. Mr. Whistler made no comments
on these conditions of the students' palettes : — ' I do not teach Art ;
with that I cannot interfere ; but I teach the scientific application
of paint and brushes.' His one insistence was, that no painting
on the canvas should be begun until the student felt he could go
no further on the palette ; the various and harmonious collection
of notes were to represent, as nearly as he could see, the model and
background that he was to paint.
"Mr. Whistler would often refrain from looking at the
students' canvas at all, but would carefully examine the palette,
saying that there he could see the progress being made, and that
it was really much more important that it should present a
beautiful appearance, than that the canvas should be fine and the
palette inharmonious. He said, ' If you cannot manage your
palette, how are you going to manage your canvas ? '
" These statements sounded like a heresy to the majority of the
students, and they refused to believe the reason and purpose of
such teaching, and as they had never before even received a hint
to consider the palette of primary importance, they insisted in
believing that this was but a peculiarity of Mr. Whistler's own
manner of working, and that, to adopt it, would be with fatal
results !
" The careful attempt to follow the subtle modellings of flesh
232 [1898
THE ACADEMIE CARMEN
placed in a quiet, simple light, and therefore extremely grey and
intricate in its change of form, brought about, necessarily, in the
commencement of each student's endeavour, a rather low-toned
result. One student said to Mr. Whistler that she did not wish to
paint in such low tones, but wanted to keep her colour pure and
brilliant ; he answered, ' then keep it in the tubes, it is your only
chance, at first.'
" It was taught to look upon the model as a sculptor would,
using the paint as a modeller does his clay ; to create on the canvas
a statue, using the brush as a sculptor his chisel, following care-
fully each change of note, which means ' form ; ' it being preferable
that the figure should be presented in a simple manner, without an
attempt to obtain the thousand changes of colour that are there
in reality, and make it, first of all, really and truly exist in its
proper atmosphere, than that it should present a brightly coloured
image, pleasing to the eye, but without solidity and non-existent
on any real plane. This it will be seen was the reason of Mr.
Whistler's repeated and insistent commands to give the back-
ground the most complete attention, believing that by it alone the
figure had a reason to exist.
" In the same way, or rather in insistence of the same im-
portant principles, he pointed out the value of the absolutely true
notes in the shadow, for they determine the amount of light in the
figure, and therefore its correct drawing as perceived by the eye,
and he said that 'in the painting of depth is really seen the
painter's power.'
" Mr. Whistler would often paint for the students.
" Once he modelled a figure, standing in the full, clear light
of the atelier, against a dull, rose-coloured wall. After spending
almost an hour upon the palette, he put down with swift, sure
touches, the notes of which his brushes were already generously
filled, so subtle that those standing close to the canvas saw
apparently no difference in each successive note as it was put down,
but those standing at the proper distance away noticed the general
turn of the body appear, and the faint subtle modellings take their
place, and finally, when the last delicate touch of light was laid on,
the figure was seen to exist in its proper atmosphere and at its
proper distance within the canvas, modelled, as Mr. Whistler
said, ' in painter's clay,' and ready to be taken up the next day
and carried yet further in delicacy, and the next day further still,
and so on until the end. /
1898] 233
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
" And it was insisted upon that it was as important to train
the eye as the hand, that long accustoming oneself to seeing
crude notes in Nature, spots of red, blue, and yellow in flesh where
they are not, had harmed the eye, and the training to readjust the
real, quiet, subtle note of Nature required long and patient study.
" * To find the true note is the difficulty,' was taught ; * it is
comparatively easy to employ it when found.'
" He once said that if he had been given at the commencement
of his artistic career what he was then offering, that his work
would have been different. But that he found in his youth no
absolute definite facts, and that he ' fell in a pit and floundered,'
and from this he desired to save whom he could. ' All is so
simple,' he would say, ' it is based on proved scientific facts ;
follow this teaching and you must learn to paint ; not necessarily
learn art, but, at least, absolutely learn to paint what you see.'
" It will be readily understood that he had no desire to have
the ordinary ' roller through Paris ' in his Academic, and so came
about the rather stringent rules which caused much discussion and
dissension.
" He also demanded the student to abandon all former methods
of teaching, unless in harmony with his own, and to approach the
science as taught by himself in a simple and trustful manner.
" Mr. Whistler once said to the students that ' there is one word
that could never come to one's lips in the Salon Carre of the
Louvre : How clever ! — How magnificent ! how beautiful ! yes,
but clever never ! ' And the student used to having any little
sketch praised, and finding such efforts remained unnoticed by Mr.
Whistler, while an intelligent and careful, though to their eyes
stupid, attempt to model in simple form and colour, would receive
approbation, grew irritated, and the majority left for a more
congenial atmosphere.
" It was pointed out that a child, in the simple innocence of
infancy, painting the red coat of the toy soldier red indeed, is in
reality nearer the great truth, than the most accomplished trickster
with his clever brushwork and brilliant manipulation of many
colours.
" ' Distrust everything you have done without understanding it.
I mean every effort you have obtained without knowing how.
Remember I am speaking always to the student, and teaching you
how to paint.
" ' It isjiot sufficient to have achieved a fine piece of painting.
234 [1898
THE ACADEMIE CARMEN
'You must know how you did it, that the next time you can do it
again, and never have to suffer from that disastrous state of being
of the clever and meretricious artist, whose friends say to him,
What a charming piece of painting, do not touch it again —
and, although he knows it is incomplete, yet he dare not but
comply, because he knows he might never get the same clever effect
again.
" ' Find out and remember which of the colours you most em-
ployed, how you managed the turning of the shadow into the light,
and, if you do not remember, scrape out your work and do it all
over again, for you are here to learn, and one fact is worth a
thousand misty imaginings. You must be able to do every part
equally well, for the greatness of a work of Art lies in the perfect
harmony of the whole, not in the fine painting of one or more
details.'
" It was many months before, finally, a student produced a
canvas which showed a grasp of the science he had so patiently
been explaining. Mr. Whistler delighted to show his pleasure in
this, and had the canvas placed on an easel and in a frame that
he might more clearly point out to the other students the reason
of its merit ; it showed primarily an understanding of the two
great principles ; first, it represented a figure inside the frame and
surrounded by the proper atmosphere of the studio, and, secondly,
it was created of one piece of flesh, simply but firmly painted and
free from mark of brush. As the weeks went on, and the progress
in this student's work continued, Mr. Whistler finally handed over
to her [Mrs. Addams] the surveillance of the newcomers and the
task of explaining to them the first principles of his manner.
" The Academie continued to receive much praise and much
blame ; at least, it had the distinction of causing the rumour that
something was being taught there ; something definite and
absolute. But the inability to understand caused, in most cases,
a bitter feeling of resentment and deep distrust, and there was a
constant going and coming in the Academie.
" A large number of students who had been in the Academie for
a short time and had left, again returned, dissatisfied with other
schools (where ordinary weekly criticism of the usual kind was
received). After the statements heard from Mr. Whistler they
seemed strangely alone and unguided, and so they returned that
they might once more satisfy themselves that nothing was to be
learned there after all,
1898] 235
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
" Mr. Whistler allowed this to continue for some time. But,
finally, the fatigue of such constant changes caused him to issue
an order that the Academie Carmen should be tried but once.
" Most particularly were the students in the men's life class
constantly changing. On Christmas Day, Mr. Whistler invited
them to visit him in his atelier and showed them many of his own
beautiful canvases in various stages of completeness ; explaining
how certain results had been obtained, and how certain notes had
been blended ; and assuring them that he used au fond the science
he was teaching them, only that each student would arrange it
according to his own needs as time went on, and begging them
not to hesitate to ask him any question that they wished or to
point out anything they failed to understand. There was an
increased enthusiasm for a few weeks, but gradually the old spirit
of misunderstanding and mistrust returned, and the men's class
again contained but few students.
" Another disappointment to them was that Mr. Whistler ex-
plained, when they showed him pictures they had painted with
a hope to exploit as pupils of the Master in the yearly Salon, that
this was impossible — that their complete understanding of the
Great Principles and the fitting execution of their application could
not be a matter of a few months' study, and he laughingly told them
that he was like a chemist who put drugs into bottles, and he
certainly should not send those bottles out in his name unless he
was quite satisfied with, and sure of, the contents.
" In February 1899, Mr. Whistler had copies made of A
Further Proposition [from The Gentle Art, page 177], the opening
paragraph slightly changed, and one was placed in English and
one in French [the translation by M. Duret] on the walls of the
two ateliers.
" And a month later, copies of Proposition No. 2 [Gentle Art,
page 115] were hung beside it.
" The last week of the Acadtmie's first year arrived — and Mr.
Whistler spent the whole of each and every morning there. The
supervision of the students' work was so satisfactory to himself in
one case that he communicated with the student, after the closing
of the Academie, to announce to her that he desired to enter into
an Apprenticeship with her, for a term of five years, as he con-
sidered it would take fully that time to teach her the whole of his
Science and make of her a finished craftsman — with her artistic
development he never for a moment pretended to interfere, or to
236 [1899
STUDIES FOR AGNES MARY ALEXANDER
AGXES MARY, MISS ALEXANDER
THE ACADEMIE CARMEN
have anything to do — ' that,' he said, ' is or is not superb— it was
determined at birth, but I can teach you how to paint.'
" So, on the 20th of July (1899), the Deed of Apprenticeship
[with Mrs. Addams] was signed and legally witnessed, and, in the
following terms, she ' bound herself to her Master to learn the
Art and Craft of a painter, faithfully to serve after the manner of
an Apprentice for the full term of five years, his secrets keep and
his lawful commands obey, she shall do no damage to his goods
nor suffer it to be done by others, nor waste his goods, nor lend
them unlawfully, nor do any act whereby he might sustain loss,
nor sell to other painters nor exhibit during her apprenticeship
nor absent herself from her said Master's service unlawfully,
but in all things as a faithful Apprentice shall behave herself
towards her said Master and others during the said term. . . .
And the said Master, on his side, undertakes to teach and instruct
her or cause her to be taught and instructed. But if she com-
mit any breach of these covenants he may immediately discharge
her.'
" Into the hands of his Apprentice — also now the Massiere — Mr.
Whistler gave the opening of the school the second year, sending
all instructions to her from Pourville where he was staying.
" Each new candidate for admission should submit an example
of his or her work to the Massiere, and so prevent the introduction
into the Academie of, firstly, those who were at present incom-
petent to place a figure in fair drawing upon the canvas ; and,
secondly, those whose instruction in an adverse manner of painting
had gone so far that their work would cause dissension and argu-
ment in the Academie. Unfortunately, this order was not well
received by some, though the majority were only too willing to
accede to any desire on the part of Mr. Whistler.
" A number absolutely refused to suffer any rule, and preferred
to distrust what they could not understand, and the talk among the
students of the Quartier was now in disparagement of the Academie.
" Mr. Whistler continued his weekly visits, as soon as he returned
to Paris, although he did not always attend the afternoon classes
as before, but when he was unable to do so he always criticised
the work after he had been round the atelier, and seen the studies
which were then being worked upon in the morning class.
" He gave always the same unfailing attention, though to
those who had just entered he would say little at first, leaving
the Massiere to explain the palette.
1899] 237
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
" Compositions were never done in the school. It was told that
it was so much more important to learn to paint and draw Nature,
for as Mr. Whistler said, ' if ever you saw anything really per-
fectly beautiful, suppose you could not draw and paint it ! ' — ' The
faculty for composition is part of the artist, he has it, or he has it
not — he cannot acquire it by study — he will only learn to adjust
the compositions of others, and, at the same time, he uses his
faculty in every figure he draws, every line he makes, while in the
large sense, composition may be dormant from childhood until
maturity ; and there it will be found in all its fresh vigour ;
waiting for the craftsman to use the mysterious quantity, in his
adjustment of his perfect drawings to fit their spaces.'
" The third and last year (1900) of the Academie Carmen was
marked at its commencement by the failure to open a men's life
class. Mr. Whistler had suffered so greatly during the preceding
years from their apparent inability to comprehend his principles
and also from the very short time the students remained in the
school, that at the latter part of the season he often refused to
criticise in the men's class at all. He would call at the Passage
Stanislas sometimes on Sunday mornings and himself take out and
place upon easels the various studies that had been done by the
men the previous week, and often he would declare that nothing
interested him among them, and that he should not criticise that
week, that he could not face the fatigue of the ' blankness ' of the
atelier.
" The Academie was opened in October 1900, by a woman's
life class alone, and it was well attended. The school had been
moved to an old building in the Boulevard Montparnasse. But
shortly after, Mr. Whistler was taken very ill, and he was forced
to leave England on a long voyage. He wrote a letter to the
students, that never reached them ; then, from Corsica, another,
with his best wishes for the New Century, and his explanation of
the Doctor's abrupt orders. The Academie was kept open by the
Apprentice until the end of March, but the faith of the students
seemed unable to bear further trials, and after great discontent at
Mr. Whistler's continued absence and a gradual dwindling away
of the students until there were but one or two left, the Apprentice
wrote of this to Mr. Whistler who was still in Corsica (1901)."
Whistler at once wrote from Ajaccio a formal letter of
dismissal to the few students left ; kissing the tips of their
238 [1901
THEACADEMIECARMEN
rosy fingers, bidding them God Speed, and stating the case
from his point of view so that history might be made. The
reading of the letter by the massiere in the atelier closed the
school, and with it, an experiment to which Whistler brought
his accustomed enthusiasm, only to meet from the average
student, the distrust in himself and his methods that the
average artist had shown him all his life. One of the
last things Whistler did before the close was to make an
apprentice also of Mr. Clifford Addams, the one man who
remained a faithful student. And in his case too a Deed of
Apprenticeship was drawn up and signed.
The story of the Academic is carried on in the following
letter from Mr. Frederick MacMonnies, concerning his con-
nection with the Academic Carmen which brought him into
nearer relations with Whistler :
" .... About the Carmen school. I was very much
entertained by the whole affair — his sincere kindliness and fatherly
interest in Carmen. I had always heard so much about his being
impossible, &c., but the more I saw of him, the more I realised
that any one who could quarrel with him must be written down as
an ass.
" It seemed to me he was about what people call a perfect gentle-
man— as unflinchingly square an individual as I thave ever known.
I have always hoped to reach his age and retain whatever faculties
I have, as he kept his, and if I could acquire the charming casual
outlook at that usually dreary period I should die happy.
" An instance of his rare straightforwardness and entire frank-
ness in friendship occurred in the Carmen School. He used to
come up to my studio just before breakfast, and we would go off
to Lavenue's or the Cafe du Cardinal.
" One morning he said he had a great affair on hand, Carmen
was going to open a school and he had agreed to teach, a thing
he had always said was shocking, useless, and encouragement of
incapables. He suggested I help him out with teaching the
sculptor pupils and the drawing, so I gladly agreed, and looked
forward to high larks, as I was sure things would occur.
" All the schools in Paris were deserted immediately, and the
1901] 239
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
funny little studios of Carmen's place were packed with all kinds
of boys and girls, mostly Americans, who had tried all styles of
teaching in every direction.
" Mr. Whistler, having a full sense of a picturesque grande
entree, did not appear until the school was in full swing about a
week after the opening, and until the pupils had passed the pal-
pitating stage and were in a dazed state of expectancy and half
collapsed into nervous prostration. The various samples of such
awaiting him represented the methods of almost every teacher in
Paris.
" He arrived, gloves and cane in hand, and enjoyed every
minute of his stay, daintily and gaily touching, in the prettiest way
very weighty matters. A few days after his arrival I went to the
School and found the entire crew painting as black as a hat —
delicate rose-coloured pearly models translated into mulattoes, a
most astonishing transformation. As time went on the blackness
increased. Finally, one day, I suggested to one of the young
women who was particularly dreary, to tone her study up. She
informed me she saw it so. I took her palette and keyed the
figure into something like the delicate and brilliant colouring,
much to her disgust. When I had finished, she informed me ' Mr.
Whistler told me to paint it that way.' I told her she had mis-
understood, that he had never meant her to paint untrue. Several
criticisms among the men of the same sort of thing, and I left.
" Of course, all this was immediately carried to Whistler, and a
few days later, after breakfast, over his coffee, he waved his
cigarette in that effective hand of his, toward me, and said, ' Now
my dear MacMonnies, I like you — and I am going to talk to you
the way your Mother does (he used to play whist in Paris with my
Mother, and they had a most amusing combination). Now you
see I have always believed there has been something radically
wrong with all this teaching that has been going on in Paris all
these years in Julian's and the rest. I decided years ago the
principle was false. They give the young things men's food when
they require pap. My idea is to give them three or four colours —
let them learn to model and paint the form and line first until
they are strong enough to use others. If they become so, well
and good, if not, let them sink out of sight.' I suggested the
doubt that their eyes might in this way be trained to see wrong.
No, he did not agree with that. Anyway, I immediately natur-
ally apologised, and told the dear old chap I was a presuming and
240 [1901
THE ACADEMIE CARMEN
meddlesome ass, and if I had known he was running his school
on a system, I would have remained silent. If you could have
seen the charming manner, his frank kindness and friendly spirit
with which he undertook to remonstrate, you would understand
how much I admired his generous spirit, which I believe was a
fruit of his great originality of mind.
" Few men under the circumstances (I being very much his
junior) would not have made a great row and got upon their high
horses, and we would have quit enemies.
" Later, I found that the sculptor pupils did not arrive in droves
to be taught by me, and the drawing criticisms unnecessary, as the
School had become a tonal modelling school and my criticisms
superfluous. I proposed to Mr. Whistler that I was de trop, and
that it could only be properly done by him ; he agreed and I left.
" M. Rodin (or his friends) wished to take my place, but Mr.
Whistler, I heard, said he could not under any circumstances have
any one replace MacMonnies, as it might occasion comment un-
favourable to me. Now I consider that one of the rarest of friendly
actions, as I knew he would not have objected to Rodin otherwise.
" A canny, croaking friend of mine, who hated Whistler and
never lost an opportunity of misquoting and belittling him, dropped
in at my house a few nights after my resignation from the School,
quite full up with croaks of delight that we had fallen out, as he
supposed, and that the row he had long predicted had finally come
off. I laughed it off, and after dinner a familiar knock, and who
should be ushered in but Mr. Whistler, asking us to play another
game of whist.
" A rather amusing thing occurred in my studio.
" A rich and very amusing rather spread-eagle young American
got into a tussle of wits with Whistler — neither had met before —
(Whistler however knew and liked his brother) — on the advantage
of foreign study and life abroad. I cannot remember all the dis-
tinguished and amusing arguments or the delightful appreciation of
the French people of Whistler, or of the rather boring and rather
brutal jabbing of the young man. At any rate, Whistler defended
himself admirably, always keeping his temper, which the young
man wished him to lose in order to trip him up, I saw that Whistler
was bored, and tried to separate them, but it had gone too far.
Finally, Whistler held out his hand and with his charming quizzical
smile said, ' Good-bye, oh, ah, I am so glad to have met you — on
account of your brother ! '
1901] ii :Q , 241
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
" The year before Whistler died, in December, I went to
America, on a short trip. I hadn't been home for a number of
years. Whistler had always said he would go back with me some
time, so I telegraphed him at Bath, to induce him to come with
me. He replied by telegram, ' Merry Xmas, bon voyage, but I
fear you will have to face your country without me.'
" I am so sorry I can't give you more interesting things about
one of the few men I have met for whom I have an unbounded
admiration and affection."
To any one familiar with art schools, Whistler's idea
appeared revolutionary, but he knew that he was merely
carrying on the tradition of Gleyre's teaching. The average
art school is now conducted on such totally different prin-
ciples that a comparison may be useful. The usual drawback
is that the student is not taught how to do anything. The
master puts him at drawing, telling him, after the drawing
is finished, where it is wrong. The student starts again and
drops into worse blunders because he has not been told how
to avoid the first. If he improves, it is by accident, or his
own intelligence, more than by the teaching. As soon as a
pupil has learned enough drawing to avoid the mistakes of
the beginner, and to make it difficult for the master to detect
his faults, he is put at painting, and the problem becomes
twice as difficult for the student. In drawing, each school
has some fixed method of working, nowhere more fixed than
at the Royal Academy, which leads to nothing. In painting,
the professor continues to correct mistakes in colour, in tone,
in value, which is easier than to correct drawing, and the
student becomes more confused than ever, for he is in colour
still less likely than in drawing to tumble unaided on the
right thing. As to teaching him the use of colours, the
mixing of colours, the proper arrangement of the palette,
the handling of his tools — these are things neglected in
modern schools. The result is that the newcomer imitates
the older students — the favourites — and they all shuffle
342 [1901
Jgfr
--
NELLY
(Pi-Hcil Dritn-iiiy)
THE ACADEMIE CARMEN
along somehow. Any attempt on the part of the master to
impress his character on the students would be vigorously
resented by most of them, and any attempt at individuality
on their part would be resented by everybody, for the average
art school, like the average technical school, is the resort
of the incompetent and the lazy. The Royal Academy goes
so far as to change the visitors in its painting schools, that
is the teachers, every month, and the confusion to the
student handed on from Mr. Sargent, for example, to Mr.
Frith, and then perhaps to Sir Hubert Von Herkomer, as
may sometimes have happened, can easily be imagined.
For this sort of art school, Whistler had no toleration —
its principal product was the amateur, he thought. When
Mr. Dowdeswell asked him
" Then you would do away with all the art schools ? "
Whistler answered,
" Not at all, they are harmless, and it is just as well when the
genius appears that he should find the fire alight and the room
warm, easels close to his hand, and the model sitting — though I
have no doubt but that he'll immediately alter the pose ! "
Whistler would have liked to practise the methods of the Old
Masters. He would have taught the students, from the begin-
ning, from the grinding and mixing of the colours. The
only knowledge necessary for them to acquire was, in his
opinion, how to use their tools so that there could never be
a doubt as to the result. The pupil was not to be praised
for an accidental effect, or criticised for a mistake he recog-
nised himself, and the master's task was to give him confidence
in his materials and certainty in their handling. Whistler
believed that students, to acquire this knowledge, should
work with him as apprentices worked with their master in
earlier centuries. Artists then taught the student to work
exactly as they did. How much individuality, save the
1901] 243
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
master's, is shown in Rubens' canvases, mostly done by his
pupils ? So long as Van Dyck remained with Rubens, he
worked in Rubens' manner, mastering his trade. When he
felt strong enough to say what he wanted to say in his own
way as an accomplished craftsman, he left the school and
set up for himself. Raphael was trained in his trade in
Perugino's studio, helped his master, and, when he had
learned all he could there, opened one of his own. Whistler
often said to us that Tintoretto never did anything for
himself until he was forty. And this is exactly the way
Whistler wished his students to work with him. The mis-
fortune is that he waited to try the experiment until it was
too late for him to profit by the skill of the apprentices
whom he had trained to the point of being of use to him
in his various schemes. He knew that it would take
at least five years for students to learn to use the tools he
put into their hands, and the fact that, at the end of three
years, when the school stopped, a few of his pupils could paint
well enough in his manner for their painting to be mistaken
for Whistler's, shows how right he was. If, after five years,
they could see for themselves the beauty that was around
them, they would by that time have been taught how to
paint it, for what he could do was to teach them to translate
their vision on to canvas. Mr. Starr says that Whistler
" told me to paint things exactly as I saw them. He always
did. ' Young men think they should paint like this or that
painter. Be quite simple, no fussy foolishness, you know ; and
don't try to be what they call strong. When a picture smells'of
paint,' he said slowly, ' it's what they call strong.' "
Had his health been maintained during those last years, had
he not been discouraged by the fact that students mostly
came to him with the desire to do work which looked easy,
great results would, probably, have been accomplished.
His chief regret was that students who knew nothing did
244 [1901
THE ACADEMIE CARMEN
not begin with him. Mrs. Addams has told us of the great
success of one, Miss Prince, who had never been in an art
school. She had nothing to unlearn. She understood, and,
at the end of a year, had made more progress than any one
else. Most of the students, elementary or advanced, in the
Academic Carmen thought that Whistler was going to teach
them how, by some short cut, they could arrive at distinction,
better and quicker than elsewhere. When they found that,
though the system was different, they had to go through
drudgery as in any other art school, they were dissatisfied
and left. Moreover, the strict discipline and the separation
of the sexes were unpopular. Nor could they understand
Whistler. Many of his sayings recorded by them explain
their bewilderment.
One day, Whistler, going into the class, encountered three
new pupils. To one of these, an American, he said :
" Where have you studied ? "
" With Chase."
" You couldn't have done better ! "
" And where have you studied ? "
" With Bonnat."
" Couldn't have done better."
" Where have you studied ? "
" I have never studied anywhere, Mr. Whistler."
" You could not have done better ! "
To the young lady who told him one day that she was
painting what she saw, his answer was, " The shock will
come when you see what you paint ! " To the man in the
early days who was smoking, he said,
" Really, you had better stop painting, or, otherwise, you
might get interested in your work, and your pipe would go out ! *'
Of a superior amateur he inquired :
" Have you been through college ? I suppose you shoot —
fish, of course ? — go in for football, no doubt ? — yes ? Well,
then I can let you off for painting."
1901] / 245
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
We asked Whistler how much truth there was in these
stories. His answer was,
" Well, you know, the one thing I cannot be responsible for
in my daily life is the daily story about me."
But he admitted that they were, in the main, true. He
added one incident that we have heard from no one else and
that has a more personal interest as it explains a peculiarity
to which we have referred. In Venice, he said, he got into
the habit, as he worked on his plates, of blowing away the
little powder raised by the needle ploughing through the
varnish to the copper, and, unconsciously, he kept on blowing
even when painting or drawing. Once, at the school, after
he had painted before the students and had left the studio,
there was heard in the silence a sound of blowing from one
corner. Then another student began blowing away im-
aginary things as he worked, and so they went on, one after
the other. " Tiens" they said, " already we have la maniere,
and that is much." Whistler heard of it, and broke himself
of the habit altogether.
Whistler's wit and his manner misled the average youth
who studied with him, but the truth is that his interest in
his pupils was as unbounded as their incredulity, and his
belief in his method of instruction. He suggested once that
his criticisms of their work should be recorded on a gramo-
phone. He thought of opening another class in London.
The only time E. saw the Academic towards the beginning of
the second year the whole place was full of life and go. But,
in the end, the want of belief in his methods, and his loss of
health disheartened him, and his absence broke up the
school. However, he sowed seed which, when it fell into
good ground, was sure to bring forth a thousandfold.
246 [1901
CHAPTER XL VI. THE BEGINNING OF
THE END. THE YEAR NINETEEN
HUNDRED
IN the spring of 1900 an event of serious importance in
our relations with Whistler occurred. Towards the
end of May, after he had been in London a week or two, he
asked us to write his Life. Now that his fame was established,
a great deal, indeed far too much, was written about him.
Various unauthorised publications appeared, others were
in preparation, and it was evident that more would follow.
Whistler shrank from being written about by people whom
he knew to be out of sympathy with him, or incapable of
appreciating his point of view, which to many critics and
commentators was and remained a riddle. Absurd mistakes
were made, facts were distorted, and often his indignation
was great. At last, Mr. Heinemann suggested that, to save
himself from these annoyances, the work of writing his Life
should be entrusted, with his authority, to some one he
did know and in whom he had full confidence. Mr. Heine-
mann first thought of asking W. E. Henley, but Whistler
objected. Mr. Charles Whibley was next proposed by Mr.
Heinemann, but again Whistler objected. It was after this
that either Mr. Heinemann or Whistler mentioned the name
of Joseph Pennell.
We had been abroad for a few days, and returned to London
on May 28 to find a letter from Mr. Heinemann telling J.
of this " magnificent opportunity." No one could appreciate
more fully the honour, as well as the responsibility. He saw
1900] 247
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Whistler at once to consider the scheme, though he said,
" You are the modern Cellini and you should write it your-
self." Whistler would have liked to do so but he never had
the leisure. He promised to contribute what he could and
we believe that, while staying at Whitehall Court, he wrote
two chapters which he read to Mr. Heinemann, but he ulti-
mately abandoned the task, as far as our book was concerned.
One change of consequence to us was almost immediately
made, Whistler arranging that we should do the work together,
and not J. alone as was originally planned. Whistler
promised to help us in every way and, when in the mood, to
tell us what he could about himself and his life, with the
understanding that we were to take notes. He was not a
man from whom dates and facts could be forced. His
method was not unlike that of Dr. Johnson who, when
Boswell asked for biographical details, said, " They'll come
out by degrees as we talk together." Whistler had to talk
in his own fashion, or not at all, but we were to be ready to
listen no matter where we met or under what conditions. It
was also agreed that photographs should be taken of the
works in his studio to illustrate the volumes and that they
should be described. In those days, Whistler's pictures
were carried off only too quickly, and whatever we needed for
illustration, or as a record, would have to be reproduced at once.
The duty of making the notes fell to E., and, from that
time until his death, she kept an account of our meetings
with him. He was true to his promise. We were often in
the studio, and we spent evening after evening together.
Sometimes we dined with him at Garlant's Hotel or the
Caf6 Royal, sometimes we met at Mr. Heinemann's, but
usually he dined with us in Buckingham Street, coming so
frequently that he said to us one June evening :
" Well, you know, you will feel about me as I did in the old
days about the man I could never ask to dinner because he was
248 [1900
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
always there ! I couldn't ask him to sit down, because there he
always was, already in his chair ! "
Once he told E. to write to J., who was out of town, that
he was living on our staircase now. During those evenings
he gave us many facts and much material used in previous
chapters of our book. He began by telling us of the years
at home, his student days in Paris, his coming to Chelsea,
and, though dates were not a strong point with him, we soon
had a consecutive story of that early period. Every evening
made us wish more than ever that he could have written
instead of talking, for we soon discovered the difficulty of
rendering his talk. He used to reproach J. with " talking
shorthand," but no one was a greater master of the art than
himself. And so much of its meaning was in the pause, the
gesture, the laugh, the adjusting of the eye-glass, the quick
look from the keen blue eyes flashing under the heavy eye-
brows. The impression left with us from the close inter-
course of this summer was that of his wonderful vitality,
his inexhaustible youth. As yet, illness had not sapped his
energy. He was now a man of sixty-six but only the grey-
ness of the ever-abundant hair, the wrinkles, the loose throat
suggested age. He held himself as erect, he took the world
as gaily, his interests were as young and fresh, as if he were
a youth beginning life. Some saw a sign of the feebleness
of years in the little nap after dinner. But this was a habit
of long standing, and after ten minutes, or less, he was awake,
revived for the talk that went on until midnight and later.
Whistler wished us to have the photographing in the
studio begun without delay. Our first meeting after all
the preliminaries were settled was on June 2 ; on the 6th
the photographer and his assistant were in Fitzroy Street
with J. to superintend. It took long to select the things
which should be done first, Mr. Gray, the photographer,
picking out those which he thought would come best, Whistler
1900] 249
/
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
preferring others that Gray feared might not come at all,
though the idea was that, in the end, everything in the studio
should be photographed. Whistler found himself shoved in
a corner, barricaded behind two or three big cameras and
he could scarcely stir without shaking them. He grew
impatient, he insisted that he must work. As the light was
not good for the photographer, some canvases were moved
out in the hall, some were put on the roof, but the best place
was discovered to be Mr. Wimbush's studio in the same
building. Then Whistler went with J. through the little
cabinets where pastels and prints were kept and Whistler
decided that a certain number must be worked on but that
the others could be photographed at once. Then they
lunched together, and then Whistler's patience was exhausted
and everybody was turned out until the next day. This
explains a few of our difficulties and the reason why our
progress was not rapid.
We have spoken of the fever of work that had taken hold
of Whistler. He dreaded to lose a second. He was rarely
willing to leave the studio during the day, or, if he did, it was
to work somewhere else, as when, to print his etchings, he
went to Mr. Frank Short's studio. We have given Mr.
Short's account of the printing. Whistler's, to us, was that
he pulled nineteen prints before lunch and all the joy in it
came back, but he did not return in the afternoon, because —
" well, you know, my consideration for others quite equals
my own energy." For himself he had no consideration, and
in his studio work seldom stopped. We remember one
late afternoon during the summer, when he had especially
asked us to come to the studio, finding tea on the table and
Whistler at his easel. " We must have tea at once or it
will get cold," he said, and went on painting. Ten minutes
later he said again, " We must have tea," and again went on
painting. And the tea waited for a good half-hour before
250 [1900
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
he could lay down his brush, and then it was to place the
canvas in a frame and look at it for another ten minutes.
When even an invited interruption was to him a hindrance,
he could not but find Mr. Gray, with his huge apparatus, a
nuisance. A good many photographs were, however, made
at Fitzroy Street, and Whistler, though he kept putting off
any definite arrangement for completing the task, helped to
get permission for pictures to be photographed elsewhere —
wherever the photographer did not interfere with his own
work. In this way, in England, America and on the Con-
tinent, all pictures which had not been reproduced, and to
which access could be obtained, were photographed.
Nothing interested Whistler more this year than the
Universal Exhibition in Paris and he and Mr. John M.
Cauldwell, the American Commissioner, understood each
other after a first passage at arms. Mr. Cauldwell, coming
to Paris to arrange for the exhibition, with little time at his
disposal and a great deal of work to do, had written to ask
Whistler to call on a certain day " at 4-30 sharp." Whistler's
answer was that, though appreciating the honour of the
invitation, he regretted his inability to meet Mr. Cauldwell
as he had never been anywhere " at 4'30 sharp," and it looked
as if the unfortunate experience of 1889 might be repeated.
But, when Whistler met Mr. Cauldwell, when he found how
much deference was shown him, when he saw the decora-
tions and arrangement of the American galleries, he was
more than willing to be represented in the American section.
He sent UAndalouse, the portrait of Mrs. Whibley, Brown
and Gold, the full-length of himself, and, at the Committee's
request, The Little White Girl, never before seen in Paris.
He brought together also a fine group of etchings, and when
he learned that he was awarded a Grand Prix for painting
and another for engraving, he was genuinely gratified and
did not hesitate to show it. The years of waiting for the
1900] 25I
official compliment so long deserved had not soured him and
did not lessen his pleasure when it came. Rossetti retired
from the battle at an early stage, but Whistler fought to the
end and made the most of his hard-earned victory. He was
dining at Mr. Heinemann's when he received the news, and
they drank his health and crowned him with flowers, and he
enjoyed it all as fully as he did the f£tes of his early Paris
days. J. was awarded a gold medal for engraving at the
same time and we also suggested that the occasion was one
for general celebration, which was complete when Timothy
Cole, another gold medallist, appeared unexpectedly as we
were sitting down to dinner. Whistler could always make
a ceremony of any reunion of this kind, and the more the
ceremonial was observed, the more it was to his taste. He
was pleased when he heard that his medals were voted unani-
mously and read out the first of the list to unanimous applause.
There was one story in connection with the awards that
amused him vastly. Though it was agreed that the first
medals should not be announced until all the others were
awarded, somehow the news leaked out and got into the
papers. At the next meeting of the jury, Carolus-Duran,
always gorgeous in his appearance, was more resplendent
than ever in a flowered waistcoat. He took the chair, and
at once, with his eye on the foreign contingent, said that
there had been indiscretions among some of the members.
Alexander Harrison was up like a shot : " A propos des
indiscretions, Messieurs, regardez le gilet de Carolus ! "
During this time Whistler was paying not only for his
rooms at the Hotel Chatham in Paris, but for one at Gar-
lant's Hotel, in addition to the apartment in the Rue du Bac
where Miss Birnie Philip and her mother were living, for
the studios in the Rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs and Fitzroy
Street, and lastly for the " Company of the Butterfly's " rooms
in Hinde Street, Manchester Square. It was no light burden
252 [1900
THE LITTLE WHITE GIRL
(Symphony in White, No. 77.)
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
though he had a light way of referring to them all as " my
collection of chdteaux and pieds-d-terre." His pockets were
as full as he had always said he wanted them to be, but he
could not get used to not having them empty. Once, afraid
he could not meet one of his many bills for rent, he asked
a friend to verify his bank account for him, with the result
that six thousand pounds were found to be lying idle — and
so the thing went on — a useless drain with no corresponding
advantage.
Whistler, as a " West Point man," followed the Boer War
with the same zest with which he had followed the Spanish
War in 1898, but from a different standpoint. In this case,
it was " a beautiful war " on the part of the Boers, for whose
pluck he had unbounded admiration. From Paris, through
the winter, he had sent us, week by week, Caran D'Ache's
cartoons on the subject published in the Figaro. In London,
he cut from the papers despatches and leaders that reported
the bravery of the Boers and the blunders of the British,
and carried them with him wherever he went. His own
comments were witty and amusing, but naturally they did
not amuse the " Islanders " whom, however, he knew how
to soothe after he had exasperated them almost beyond
endurance. One evening J. walked back with him to Gar-
lant's and they were having their whisky-and-soda in the
landlady's room while Whistler gave his version of the news of
the day, which he thought particularly discreditable to the
British army. Then suddenly, when it seemed as if the
English landlady could not stand it an instant longer, he
turned and said in his most charming manner, " Well, you
know, you would have made a very good Boer yourself
Madam." As he said it, it became the most amiable of
compliments and the evening was finished over a dish of
choice peaches which she hoped would please him. At
times he grew excited with argument. Another evening,
1900] 253
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
the Boers were on the point of kindling a fatal war between
himself and a good friend, when a bang of his fist on the
table brought down a picture from the wall, and, in the
crash of glass, the Boers were forgotten. No one who met
him during the years of the war can dissociate him from this
talk, and not to refer to it would be to give a poor idea of
him as he then was. If he had a sympathetic audience, he
went over again and again the incidents that, to him, were
most striking : the wonder of the despatches ; General
Roberts' explanation that all would have gone well with the
Suffolks on a certain occasion if they had not had a panic ;
Mrs. Kruger receiving the British army while the Boers
retired, supplied with all they wanted though they went on
capturing the British soldier wholesale ; General Buller's
announcement that he had made the enemy respect his rear.
When he was told of despatches stating that Buller, on one
occasion, had retired without losing a man, or a flag, or a
cannon, he added, " yes, or a minute." He constantly
repeated the answer of an unknown man at a lecture, who,
when the lecturer declared that the cream of the British
Army had gone to South Africa, called out, " whipped
cream." The blunderings and the surrenderings gave
Whistler malicious joy and he declared that as soon as the
British soldier found he was no longer in a majority of ten
to one, he threw up the sponge. He recalled Bismarck's
saying that South Africa would prove the grave of the British
Empire, and also that the day would come when the blundering
of the British army would surprise the world, and he quoted
as seriously " a sort of professional prophet " who predicted
a July that would bring destruction to the British : " What
has July 1900 in store for the Island ? " he would ask.
There was no question of his interest in the Boers, but
neither could there be that this interest was coloured by
prejudice. He never forgot his own " years of battle " in
254 [1900
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
England, when, alone, he met the blunderings, mistakes and
misunderstandings of artists, critics and the public. In his
old age, as in his youth, he loved London for its beauty.
His 'friends were there, nowhere else was life so congenial,
and not even Paris could keep him long away from London.
But it was his boast that he was an American citizen, that
on his father's side he was Irish, a Highlander on his mother's,
and that there was not a drop of Anglo-Saxon blood in his
veins. He had no affection for the people who had persisted
in their abuse and ridicule until, confronted by the first
collection of his life's work, they were compelled — however
grudgingly — to give him his due. This was why he often
expressed the hope that none of his pictures should remain in
England and emphasised the fact that his sitters at the end
were all American or Scotch. He conquered, but the con-
quest did not make him accept the old enemies as new
friends. In the position of the Boers he no doubt fancied a
parallel with his own when, alone, they defied the English
who, on the battlefield, as in the appreciation of art, blun-
dered and misunderstood. Whistler's ingenuity in seeing
only what he wanted to see and in making that conform to
his theories was extraordinary. He could not be beaten
because, for him, right on the other side did not exist. He
came nearest to it one evening when discussing the war not
with an Englishman, but with an American and a West
Point officer into the bargain, whom he met at our flat and
who said that there was always blundering at the opening
of a campaign, as at Santiago, where two divisions of the
United States army were drawn up so that, if they had fired,
they must have shot each other down. It was a shock,
but Whistler rallied quickly, offered no comment, and was
careful afterwards to avoid such dangerous ground. Pre-
judice coloured all his talk of the English, whose characteristics
to him were as humorous as his were incomprehensible to
1900] 255
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
them. It was astonishing to hear him seize upon a weak
point, play with it, elaborate it fantastically, retaining always
a sufficient basis of truth to make his ridicule strike home.
The " enemies " suffered from his wit as he had from their
density. His artistic sense served him in satire as in every-
thing else. One favourite subject now was the much-vaunted
English cleanliness. He had evolved an elaborate theory :
" Paris is full of baths and always has been ; you can see them,
beautiful Louis XV. and Louis XVI. baths on the Seine ; in
London, until a few years ago, there were none except in Argyll
Street, to which Britons came with a furtive air, afraid of being
caught. And the French, having the habit of the bath, think
and say nothing of it, while the British — well — they're so aston-
ished now they have learned to bathe, they can't talk of anything
but their tub."
The Bath Club he described as " the latest incarnation
of the British discovery of water." His ingenious answer
was always ready when any British virtue was extolled.
He repeated to us a conversation at this time with Madame
Sarah Grand. She said it was delightful to be back in
England after five or six weeks in France where she had not
seen any men, except two and they were Germans whom
she could have embraced in welcome. A Frenchman never
would forget that women are women. She liked to meet
men as comrades, without any thought of sex at all. Whistler
told her,
" You are to be congratulated madam — certainly, the English-
woman succeeds, as no other could, in obliging men to forget her
sex."
A few days after, he reported another " happy " answer.
He was with three Englishmen and a German. One of the
Englishmen said,
" The trouble is, we English are too honest — we have always
been stupidly honest."
256 [1900
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
Whistler turned to the German,
" You see, it is now historically acknowledged, whenever there
has been honesty in* this country, there has been stupidity."
His ingenuity increased with the consternation it caused, and
the " Islander " figured more and more in his talk.
The excitement in China this summer interested him little
less than affairs in South Africa, but for another reason.
He was indignant not with the Chinese for the massacre of
the European Ministers at Pekin, but with Americans and
Europeans for considering the massacre an outrage that called
for redress. After all, the Chinese had their way of doing
things, and it was better to lose whole armies of Europeans
than to harm the smallest of the beautiful things in that
wonderful country. He said to us one day :
" Here are these people thousands of years older in civilisation
than we, with a religion thousands of years older than ours, and
our missionaries go out there and tell them who God is. It is
simply preposterous, you know, that for what Europe and
America consider a question of honour, one blue pot should be
risked."
The month of July in London was unusually hot and for the
first time we heard Whistler complain of the heat in which,
as a rule, he, the true Southerner, revelled. As we look back,
we can see in this a sign of the increasing feebleness which
his unfailing vivacity and gaiety kept us from suspecting at
the time. He was restless, too, anxious to stay on in his studio
and yet as anxious, for the sake of Miss Birnie Philip and her
mother, to go to the country or by the sea. More than once,
looking from our windows, he said that with the river there
and the Embankment Gardens gay with music and people,
we were in no need to leave town, and we were sure he envied
us. One day he went to Amersham, near London, with some
thought of staying there and painting two landscapes he had
been asked for.
1900] ii :H 257
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
" You know, really, I can't say that, towards twilight, it is not
pretty in a curious way, but not really pretty after all — it's all
! country, and the country is detestable."
Eventually he took a house at Sutton near Dublin, persuaded
Mrs. and Miss Birnie Philip to go there, and then himself
promptly went with Mr. Elwell to Holland. He told Mr.
Sidney Starr once that only one landscape interested him, the
landscape of London. But he made an exception of Holland.
When he was reminded that there is no country there, he
said,
" That's just why I like it — no great, full-blown, shapeless
trees as in England, but everything neat and trim, and the trunks
of the trees painted white, and the cows wear quilts, and it is all
arranged and charming. And look at the skies ! — They talk
about the blue skies of Italy — the skies of Italy are not blue,
they are black. You do not see blue skies except in Holland and
here, or other countries, where you get great white clouds, and
then the spaces between are blue ! And in Holland there is
atmosphere, and that means mystery. There is mystery here,
too and the people don't want it. What they like is when the
east wind blows, when you can look across the river and count
the wires in the canary bird's cage on the other side."
He stayed a week at Domburg, a small sea-shore village near
Middleburg. With its little red roofs nestling among the
sand-dunes and its wide beach under the skies he loved, he
thought it enchanting and made a few water-colours which he
showed us afterwards in his studio. The place, he said, was
not yet exploited, and at Madame Elout's he found good wine
and a Dordrecht banker who talked of the Boers and assured
him that they were all right, the Dutch would see to that.
A visit, very little longer, to Ireland followed. He went full
of expectations, for as the descendant of the Irish Whistlers
he was an Irishman himself, we have heard him say more
than once. We have a note of his stay there from Sir Walter
Armstrong, Director of the National Gallery of Ireland :
258 [1900
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
" He took a house, ' Craigie ' the name of it, at Sutton, six
miles from Dublin, on the spit of sand which connects the Hill
of Howth with the mainland (as the Neutral Ground unites
/ Gib.' with Spain) on the north side of Dublin Bay. There
he excited the curiosity of the natives by at once papering
up the windows on the north side of the house, for half their
height, with brown paper. He came to dinner with me one
night, stipulating that he should be allowed to depart at 9*30 as
he was such an early goer to bed. We dined accordingly at 7,
and his Jehu, with the only closed fly the northern half of County
Dublin could supply, was punctually at the door at the hour
named. There he had to wait for three hours, for it was not until
12'30 that the delightful flow of Whistler's eloquence came to an
end, and that he extracted himself from the deep armchair which
had been his pulpit for four hours and a half. His talk had been
great, and we had confined ourselves to little exclamatory appre-
ciations and gazes of wrapt adoration ! I spent an hour or
two with him in the Irish National Gallery. I found him there,
lying on the handrail before a sketch by Hogarth (George II.
and his family) and declaring it was the most beautiful picture
in the world. The only other remark on any particular picture
which I can now recall is his saying of my own portrait by Walter
Osborne, ' It has a skin, it has a skin ! ' He soon grew tired of
Sutton and Ireland, and when I called at Craigie a few days after
the dinner, he had flown. He did not forget to send a graceful
word to my wife, signed with his name and Butterfly."
For work, the visit was a failure. The house was on the
wrong side of the Bay, the weather was wretched, and only
Chester, on the way home, was " charming and full of
possibilities."
In September the frequent meetings were continued.
The talk, drifting here and there, touched upon many subjects
that belonged to no particular period but have their value
coming from him and are characteristic of his moods and
memories. Thus, one evening, when Mr. W. B. Blaikie was
with us, and the talk naturally turned to Scotland, Whistler
told stories of Carlyle. Allingham, he said, was for a time
by way of being Carlyle's Boswell and was always at his
1900] 259
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
heels. They were walking in the Embankment Gardens at
Chelsea, when Carlyle stopped suddenly : " Have a care, mon,
have a care, for ye have a tur-r-ruble faculty for developing
into a bore ! " Carlyle had been reading about Michael
Angelo with some idea of writing his life or an essay, but
it was Michael Angelo, the engineer, who interested him.
Another day, walking with Allingham, they passed South
Kensington Museum. " You had better go in," Allingham
said. " Why, mon, only fools go in there." Allingham
explained that he would find sculpture by Michael Angelo,
and he should know something of the artist's work before
writing his life. " No," said Carlyle, " we need only glance
at that."
Whistler's talk of Howell and of Tudor House, overflowed
with anecdotes that have less to do with his life than that of
the adventurer for whom he ever retained a tender regret,
and the group gathered about Rossetti. He accounted for
Howell's downfall by a last stroke of inventiveness when he
procured rare priceless black pots for a patron who later
discovered rows of the same pots in an Oxford Street shop.
Whistler had a special liking for the story of Rossetti dining at
Lindsey Row, at the height of the blue and white craze, and be-
coming so excited when his fish was served on a plate he had
never seen before, that he at once turned it over, fish and
all, to look at the mark on the back. Another memory was
of a dinner at Mr. lonides', with Rossetti a pagan, Sir Richard
Burton a Mahommedan if anything, Lady Burton a devout
and rather pugnacious Catholic. They fell into a hot
argument over religion, only Whistler said nothing. Lady
Burton, who was in a state of exaltation, could not stand his
silence : " And what are you, Mr. Whistler ? "— " I, Madam ? "
he answered, " why, I am an amateur ! " He spent many
evenings, drawing upon his memory of the " droll " and
" joyous " things of the past ; telling us more of them than
260 [1900
FIGURE WITH FAN
(Chalk Drawing)
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
we can ever repeat. But the past only brought him back
with redoubled interest to the present, in which there was
so much still to be done.
In October, we began to notice a change in his health and
to understand that when he worried there was excellent cause
for it. He was called over to Paris once or twice on business
connected with his school and his " chdteaux and pieds-d-
terre" Late in October, after one of these journeys, he was
laid up with a severe cold at Mr. Heinemann's ; in November,
he was confined for many days at Garlant's. He had other
worries. It seemed as if the critics conspired either to ignore
his success at the Paris Exhibition, or else to account for it
in the way which to him was most distasteful. He was
irritated when he read an article on the Exhibition, signed
D. S. M. in the Saturday Review devoted altogether, he told
us, to Manet and Fantin, with only a passing reference to
himself :
" Manet did very good work, of course, but then Manet was
always I'ecolier, — the student with a certain sense of things in
paint, and that is all ! — he never understood that art is a positive
science, one step in it leading to another. He painted, you know,
in la maniere noire — the dark pictures that look very well when
you come to them at Durand-Buel's, after wandering through
rooms of screaming blues and violets and greens — but he was so
little in earnest that, midway in his career, he took to the blues
and violets and greens himself. You know, it is the trouble with
so many — they paint in one way — brilliant colour, say — they see
something, like Ribot, and, dear me ! they think, we had better
try and do this too, and they do, and, well, really you know, in
the end they do nothing for themselves ! "
He was even more irritated with some of the other art
critics who, in their articles, while not ignoring him, stated
that his medal was awarded for The Little White Girl. The
statement was offensive to Whistler because, he said :
"The critics are always passing over recent work for early
masterpieces, though all are masterpieces: there is no better, no
1900] 261
worse, the work has always gone on, it has 'grown, not changed,
and the pictures I am painting now are full of qualities they cannot
understand to-day any better than they understood The Little
White Girl at the time it was painted."
This was an argument he often used. Only a few evenings
after, he told a man, who suggested that Millet's later work
was not so good because he was married and had to make
both ends meet,
" You're wrong — an artist's work is never better, never worse,
it must be always good, in the end as in the beginning, if he is an
artist, if it is in him to do anything at all. He would not be
influenced by the chance of a wife or anything of that kind. He
is always the artist."
He was indignant because critics could not see a truth
which to him was simple and obvious. His indignation cul-
minated when the Magazine of Art not only said the Grand
Prix was awarded for The Little White Girl, but protested
against the award, because the picture was painted before
the ten years' limit imposed by the French authorities, a
protest that reappeared in other papers. Whistler could
not bear this in silence, for it looked as if an effort would
be made to deprive him of his first high award from a
Paris exhibition. The attack was altogether unwarranted.
Whistler's two other pictures were his most recent, and, as
we have pointed out, The Little White Girl was specially
invited. As soon as he was well enough, he came to us several
times, with Mr. William Webb, his solicitor, to talk the affair
over. As a result, an apology was demanded, and made.
This belittling of certain pictures, in favour of others, with its
inevitable inference, always offended him, in the end as in the
beginning. Only friends, however, knew what he really felt.
Mr. Sargent gives us a characteristic instance of his usual
manner of carrying off the offence before the world. In his
later years, somebody brought him a commission for a
262
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
painting, stipulating that it should be " a serious work."
Whistler's answer was that he " could not break with the
traditions of a lifetime," and so, no doubt, confirmed the old
belief in his flippancy.
Another worry he should have been spared was a dispute
with one of the tenants at the Rue du Bac, a trivial matter,
which, in his nervous state, loomed large and made him un-
necessarily miserable. The carpets of an old lady in the
floor above him were shaken out of her windows into his
garden, and it could not be stopped. He tried the law, but
was told he must have disinterested witnesses outside the
family. If he engaged a detective, a month might pass
before she would do it again. But it chanced that, in the
very act of beating a carpet, she, or a servant, let it fall into
his garden, and his servants refused to give it up. The old
lady went to law and his lawyer advised him to return the
carpet. It depressed him hopelessly, and as he had long
ceased to live in the Rue du Bac, we could not understand
why he should even have heard of so petty a domestic
squabble.
Ill and worried as he was, our work at intervals came to a
standstill. When he felt better and stronger, the old talks
went on, but at moments he seemed almost to fear that the
book would prove an obituary. Once he told us that we
wanted to make an Old Master of him before his time, and
we had too much respect and affection for him to add to his
worries by our importunity. With the late autumn his
weakness developed into serious illness. By the middle of
November he was extremely anxious about himself, for his
cough would not go. The doctor's diagnosis, he said, was
" lowered in tone : probably the result of living in the
midst of English pictures." A sea journey was advised, and
Tangier suggested for the winter. When he was well enough
to come to us, he could not conceal his anxiety. If he
1900] 263
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
sneezed, he hurried away at once. He fell asleep before
dinner was over, once or twice he could hardly keep awake
through the evening. He would not trust himself to the night
,air until Augustine had mixed him a hot " grog." Tangier
did not appeal to him, and he asked J. to go with him to
Gibraltar, stay awhile at Malaga, and then come back by
Madrid to see at last the pictures he had wanted to see all
Ms life. He was hurt when J. represented that work made it
impossible for him to leave London. In December Whistler
gave up the struggle to brave the London winter, and decided
to sail for Gibraltar, on the way to Tangier and Algiers, with
Mr. Birnie Philip, his brother-in-law, to take care of him.
His old friend, Sir Thomas Sutherland, Chairman of the P.
and O. Company, assured him of every comfort on the
voyage, and on the 14th of the month he started for the
South.
264 [1900
CHAPTER XLVII. IN SEARCH OF
HEALTH. THE YEARS NINETEEN
HUNDRED AND ONE TO NINETEEN
HUNDRED AND TWO
WHISTLER, away from London, was unhappy. At
Tangier the wind was icy, at Algiers it rained, and
everywhere when it was clear the sky was " hard " and the
sea was " black." Snow was falling when he reached Mar-
seilles and he was kept in his room during a couple of weeks,
ill enough to send for a doctor and only comforted when he
found the doctor delightful. Corsica was then recommended
and as " Napoleon's Island " it attracted Whistler. As soon
as he was well enough, Mr. Birnie Philip left him and he sailed
alone for Ajaccio. Here he stayed at the Hotel Schweizerhof.
The weather at first was abominable, so cold and the wind
so treacherous that he could not work out of doors, and he
felt his loneliness acutely. Fortunately he made a friend of
the Curator of the Museum and Mr. Heinemann joined him
for a time. They loitered about together in the quaint
little town, went to see the house where Napoleon was
born — " a great experience " — spent many rainy hours in
the little ca]i where Mr. Heinemann taught him to play
dominoes, a resource not only then but for the rest of his
life. They played for the price of their coffee, and Whistler
cheated with a brilliancy that made him easily a winner,
but that horrified a German who sometimes took a hand,
though the naivett of Whistler's " system " could not have
deceived a child,
ipoi] 265
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
He was not altogether idle. He brought back afterwards
a series of exquisite pen and pencil drawings begun at Tangier,
many now owned by Mr. Richard A. Canfield and others by
Miss Birnie Philip. A few water-colours were made, and
when the weather gave him a chance, he worked on his copper-
plates. J. had grounded them for him at the last moment in
the damp cold of London, they were packed in among his
linen, and taken out in the hot sun of Ajaccio. The result
was that the varnish came off in the biting — " All my dainty
work lost," he said — and it looked as if the great shadow had
fallen upon our friendship. But he knew the fault was his,
and the shadow passed as quickly as it came. The closing
of the school in Paris occupied him in Ajaccio, and he was
arranging for a new show of pastels and prints. One great
pleasure of which he wrote to us, came from his " new honours "
in Dresden where he was awarded a gold medal and elected
" unanimously to the Academic Roy ale des Beaux-Arts.''
He was, however, more tired than he admitted in his letters,
dwelling little on his fatigue, and insisting that the doctor in
Marseilles had found there was nothing the matter with him.
But the truth is, that he was never really strong after the
autumn of 1900, and even earlier than this the doctor in
London warned his friends that he was failing.
He was hopeful about himself because at Ajaccio he
discovered what really was the matter with him :
" At first, though I got through little, I never went out with-
out a sketch-book or an etching plate. I was always meaning to
work, always thinking I must. Then the Curator offered me the
use of his studio. The first day I was there, he watched me but
said nothing until the afternoon. Then — 'But, Mr. Whistler, I
have looked at you, I have been watching. You are all nerves,
you do nothing. You try to, but you cannot settle down to it.
What you need is rest — to do nothing — not to try to do any-
thing. And all of a sudden, you know, it struck me that I had
never rested, that I never had done nothing, that it was the one
266 [1901
liLIMl'SES OF WHISTLER
IN SEARCH OF HEALTH
thing I needed ! And I put myself down to doing nothing —
amazing, you know. No more sketch-books — no more plates.
• I just sat in the sun and slept. I was cured. You know, Joseph
must sit in the sun and sleep. Write and tell him so.' "
Certainly, he was sufficiently recovered to feel all his old
joy in the " Islanders," into the midst of whom he fell on the
P. and O. steamer from Marseilles :
* Nobody but English on board — and, after months of not
seeing them, really they were amazing : there they all were at
dinner — you know — the women in low gowns, the men in dinner
jackets — they might look a trifle green, they might suddenly run
when the ship rolled — but what matter — there they were — men
in dinner jackets, stewards behind their chairs in dinner jackets —
and so all's right with the country ! And do you know — it
made the whole business clear to me down there in South Africa —
at home, every Englishman does his duty — appears in his dinner
jacket at the dinner hour — and so what difference what the Boers
are doing ? — all is well with England ! You know, you might
just as well dress to ride in an omnibus ! "
Whistler returned from Corsica at the beginning of May, in
excellent spirits, so great was his pleasure to be again in his
studio and among his friends. He came to us on the day of
his arrival. We give one small incident that followed because
we think it shows a certain simplicity in Whistler that he
was careful to conceal from the world it was his amusement
to mystify. It happened that J. was in Italy and E., that
very afternoon, on her way back from the Continent. At
our door he met our French maid starting for Charing
Cross and he walked with her to the station, while
she gave him the news. Her account was that every-
body stared, which was not surprising. He, always a con-
spicuous figure, was the more so in his long brown overcoat,
and round felt hat, en voyage, while she wore a big white
apron and was en cheveux. Moreover, their conversation
was animated. She invited him to dinner, promising him
1901] 267
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
dishes which she knew from experience he liked, and he
accepted. He appeared a little before eight. " Positively
shocking and no possible excuse for it," he said, " but — well —
here I am ! "
Work was taken up again in the studio, our old talks were
resumed, his interest in the Boer War grew rather than
lessened, the heat he had not found in the south was supplied
for him in London in June and July, and from the heat he
seemed to borrow new strength. He came and went, as of
old, between Garlant's Hotel and Buckingham Street until
he declared that the cabbies in the Strand knew him as well
as the cabbies in Chelsea. It had ever been his boast that
he was known to almost every cabman in London, as, indeed,
he was. The tales of his encounters with them were numerous,
for, if lavish in big things, he could sometimes be " narrow "
in small, as Boswell said of Johnson, and his drives occa-
sionally ended in differences. The only time we knew the
cabby to score was once this year, when J. was walking from
the studio with Whistler. " Kibby, Kibby," Whistler cried
to a passing cab, not seeing " the fare " inside. The cabman
drew up, looked him over, and said — as London cabmen have
been heard to say before and since — ** Where did you buy
your 'at ? — Go, get you 'air cut ! " and drove off at a gallop.
Even Whistler, safe inside an omnibus, laughed at his own
discomfiture.
We were kept abroad a great part of the summer of 1901,
and by the time we were all together again in the autumn, it
was the same old story. His weakness returned with the
cold and the damp and the fog. He realised the uselessness
of keeping up his apartment and studio in Paris, the state
of his health making it impossible for him to live in the one
or to climb up to the other, and business in connection with
closing them took him to Paris in October. Towards the
beginning of the month he was ill in bed at Garlant's Hotel,
268 [1901
IN SEARCH OF HEALTH
and towards the end at Mr. Heinemann's in Norfolk
Street. Even when well enough to go out he was afraid
to come to us in the evening : " Buckingham Street
at night, you know, a dangerous, if fascinating, place ! "
He would not dine where he could not sleep, he said,
" 7'y dine, fy dort," and in our small flat he knew there
was no corner for him. Early in November, he moved
to Tallant's Hotel in North Audley Street and there he
was very ill and more alarmed about himself than ever.
*' This time, I was very much bowled over, unable to think,"
he told us when we went to see him, and though he made a
jest of it, he was depressed by his landlady's recommendation
of his room as the one where Lord died. " I tried to
make her understand," he said, " that what I wanted was a
room to live in." He looked the worse, we thought, because
in illness, as in health, he had the faculty of inventing
extraordinary costumes. We remember finding him there,
after he was able to get up, in black trousers, a white silk
night-shirt flowing loose, and a short black coat.
Illness made Whistler still more of a wanderer, and for
months he was denied the rest he knew he needed. From
Tallant's, in November, he went to Mrs. Birnie Philip's in
Tite Street, Chelsea. Here he never asked his friends, and
we saw less of him. The first week in December he left
London for Bath where he took rooms in one of the big cres-
cents and where he thought he could work. Besides, there
were shops in which to hunt for " old silver and things," in
a vague way people seemed to know him, and, on the whole,
Bath pleased him. He lost few excuses, however, for coming
to London, and was in town almost all of January. On some
days he was surprisingly well. He went to the Old Masters'
Exhibition at the Royal Academy especially to see the
Kingston Lacy Las Meninas, and he told AIS the same
day :
1902 269
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
"It is full of things only Velasquez could have done, — the
heads a little weak perhaps — but so much, or everything, that no
one else could have painted like that. And up in a strange
place they call the Diploma Gallery I saw'the Spanish Phillip's
copy of Las Meninas full of atmosphere really and dim under-
standing."
Ochtervelt's Lady Standing at a Spinet also interested
him, suggesting a favourite theme :
" The Dutchmen knew how to paint — they had respect for
the surface of a picture, the modern painter has no respect for
anything but his own cleverness and he is sometimes so clever
that his work is like that of a bad boy, and I'm not sure that he
ought not to be taken out and whipped for it — cleverness — well,
cleverness has nothing to do with art — there can be the same
sort of cleverness in painting as that of the popular officer who
cuts an orange into fancy shapes after dinner."
There were one or two evenings when he risked the night
air to come to us and his talk was as gay and brilliant as ever
— reminiscent, critical, " wicked," as the mood took him,
and at times serious. We always must remember his earnest-
ness when he recalled the seances and spiritual manifestations
at Rossetti's, in which he firmly believed. He could not
understand, he said, the people who pretended to doubt the
existence of another world and the hereafter. His own
faith was strong, though vague when there was question of
analysing it. Probably he never tried to reduce it to dogma
and doctrine, and, in that sense, he was " the amateur " he
described himself in jest. If his inclination turned to 'any
special creed it was to Catholicism. " The beauty of ritual
is all with the Catholics," he always said. But his work left
him no time to study out these problems for himself, and his
own belief perhaps was stimulated by the mystery in which
it was lost.
On other days London apparently was tiring him and he
dozed off and on through his visits to us, and came no more at
270 [1902
IN SEARCH OF HEALTH
night. He expended only too much energy in sending some
old pieces of silver to the doctor at Marseilles and the Curator
at Ajaccio who had been kind to him. He was full of these
little courtesies, and never forgot kindness, just as he never
failed to show it to those who appealed to him, whether it
was to find a publisher for an unsuccessful illustrator, or
a gallery for an unsuccessful painter, or even, as we know
happened once, to support a morphomaniac for months.
A shorter visit to town was made solely to attend a meeting
of the International Society because his presence was par-
ticularly desired. This was one of the occasions that proved
the sincerity and activity of his devotion to the Society and
its affairs. It is a satisfaction that this devotion was ap-
preciated and that the loyalty of the Council was not shaken
during his lifetime. We have endeavoured to give some idea
of the estimate in which he was held by artists at different
periods in his career ; it must therefore be interesting if we
can also explain the impression he produced upon those who
came into contact with him, or his work, at the last period of
all, and this we cannot do better than by quoting two members
of the Society over which he presided in his old age, and to
the hour of his death. We quote first Mr. E. A. Walton, who
was much with him at the last :
" You have asked me to write and tell you what I know about
Whistler's methods. I am afraid that more than I can give you,
will be expected from a painter who knew Whistler, and his work
as well as I did ; but here is a simple statement of a few points
which have struck me. You will notice that I do not use method
in the narrow sense of the word, I do not tell how Whistler mixed
his paints, or what brushes he used, but rather I use the word in
its broadest sense meaning the general way in which Whistler
approached his art.
" To begin with, Whistler was a thorough craftsman ; by that
I mean he was completely master of his material, and knew to
the full its power and also its limitations. This, I think, was an
essential factor in his artistic success. Further, with regard to
1902] 271
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
his choice of subject, he had the power of finding subject-matter
in everything around him. His moods were as varied as the sea-
sons of the year, and he was possessed of a great craving to express
himself, but he never lacked the means to do so, he always suc-
ceeded in obtaining ample motive in all that encompassed him
from the shores of Valparaiso Bay to the Alleys of Soho. Indeed,
he always made his surroundings his own, and reflected them in
the most direct way, perfectly satisfied with what lay ready to
his hand.
" I think it is true to say that Whistler's method involved as an
integral part a certain attitude of mind. This attitude rendered
him at once receptive of impressions (to use his own phrase, he
loved Nature as her child, and knew her as her master), and at
the same time it made him rightly disposed towards the work
itself, in that it gave him a true ideal. This state or attitude
was only attained through long and deliberate study, it was
something that Whistler arrived at by set intention. To this
attitude was added a fine aesthetic sense which was inborn, and
it was this combination which formed his genius.
" Something of Whistler's method — its deliberateness and in-
dependence of choice — was explained to me by Whistler himself.
He was talking one day of his work, ' If I had been apprenticed
to Tintoretto . . . ' he said musingly, and then, after some
speculations he added, ' but how foolishly people talk of a Vene-
tian secret ! ' My answer was, ' Yes, indeed.' ' Ah ! but there
is a secret ! ' retorted Whistler. ' What is it ? ' I asked. * It is
being able to go on, go on each day building up and hammering
more and more into your work just as the coppersmith works out
by degrees his beautiful shapes and surfaces.' The habit of many
through ignorance is to start afresh each day on his canvas and so
to hit or to miss. The hit even is generally a very momentary im-
pression of their own feelings and of their subject. Such work
as this one does not care to see more than once if even that. One
might note, by the way, that Whistler's interpretation of the
Venetian secret, ' To be able to go on,' can also be made the
interpretation of the secret of the great master of Holland and
him, Whistler admired above all others; although Whistler's
work was more akin to that of Velasquez, and in some respects a
contrast to Rembrandt's, it was Rembrandt nevertheless who
won his chief devotion. Personally, I should say that the secret
of Whistler's own success was that, in spite of the distinguished
272 ['902
IN SEARCH OF HEALTH
individuality of his art, he remained throughout ever the student
ever looking for something beyond ; that he was never arrive,
that he had no superficial clevernesses, and did not repeat him-
self, never trading on his successes but always seeking for new
inspiration.
" Mere manner of painting is often spoken of as method, there
is really a complete distinction between them. Whistler's
manner of painting changed from time to time, but his method,
his relationship to, and mode of conducting his work, remained
unaltered throughout. The changes in the manner of his painting
were caused by his great sympathy with the work of his fellow
artists. Even two such extremely different men as Courbet and
his London neighbour, Albert Moore, affected him — and he was
even influenced by the romantic type of head evolved by Rossetti.
Whistler's artistic wisdom, however, was too great to allow him
to fall into anything like ease of mannerism, the common failing of
many clever men. Raeburn might be taken as one of the most
conspicuous examples ; he produced quantity with unpleasant
ease and by the number of his works is he yet known to us. One
only of Whistler's pictures is enough for a reputation, giving as it
does inspiration to the artist who carries on the reputations of
the great masters and establishes them in the knowledge of the
amateur."
To Mr. Walton's appreciation, we add that of Mr. Morley
Fletcher, who speaks more of the technical side of Whistler's
art, and it is suggestive 'to compare the views of Whistler's
technique expressed by an artist of distinction, with those of
Mrs. Clifford Addams, who was still the student when she
formed her impressions. Mr. Fletcher writes :
"Apart from the physical achievement of a Master in any
branch of the Arts, and yet inseparable from it, is the legacy to
those who follow him of a new revelation of technical power or
resource.
" Whistler's work stood conspicuous and notable in a time of
lost tradition — a time of rebellions and heresies, or of haphazard
disregard of workmanship. In all his work, even to the time of
his last studies, a continued effort is shown toward the research
and recovery of obscured principles and of their right application.
To use his own expression, he * carried on the tradition.'
1902] ii : g 273
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
" This research, as well as the new possibilities he demonstrated,
are a part of his achievement less obvious than his known
successes, but full of significance and value to all who work with the
instrument he used.
" One of his salient principles in painting was in the definition
of the range of values legitimate to oil paint. He held that the
only possible and consistent use of the material was that com-
prised within the limits of ' covered ' paint. Following the
tradition of such Masters as Velasquez and Franz Hals, he was
opposed to any artificial enhancing of light tones or high lights by
the glitter obtained from a broken surface of loaded paint, on the
ground that such effects are variable with the chance position of
the picture, and that fine control or a beautiful treatment of the
material is impossible outside the limits of simple painting with
the brush. He relied entirely on the power of simple ' covered '
painting.
" Every kind of artifice and trick was in vogue for the enhanc-
ing of the apparent value of passages in painting by the glitter
of broken and iridescent surface, so as to reach an almost literal
appearance of nature. Whistler's strict refusal of these methods,
confined his work at once within a limited and quiet range of
tones strangely at variance with the style of his time. He was
the Puritan of a period of meretricious technique.
" By this limitation of the range of values painting becomes
an extremely subtle and delicate process. Within the relatively
small range of luminous power obtainable from pigments, whose
lightest tone is only that of ' covered ' white paint, are to be
expressed the relations and harmonies of the infinite range of
natural light — an operation comparable in delicacy with that of
the subtle control of planes in low relief in Sculpture as contrasted
with reality in solid natural form ; or, perhaps, more truly
similar to musical expression. The most delicate instrument
becomes necessary — the most perfectly organised palette.
" Only by means of a finely organised and scientific use of
pigments could the perfectly controlled and true harmonies of
the Nocturnes have been expressed. They are the rendering not
of natural facts but of natural harmonies — the pictorial rendering
of rhythm and harmony of natural effect ; as it were the cadences
of daylight.
" His palette was extremely limited. The highest power of
yellow he allowed himself was Yellow Ochre. In Yellow he used
274 [1902
IN SEARCH OF HEALTH
a descending scale of Yellow Ochre, Raw Sienna, Raw Umber ;
correspondingly, in Red he used Vermilion, Venetian Red, Indian
Red ; and in Blue, Cobalt and Mineral Blue.
" This simple grouping of pigments, without any of the modern
resources of higher power — without Green or Orange or Violet —
constitutes the colour power of his palette.
" Simple as it is, the expressive power of his palette was due to
the use he made of white and black which together controlled
every tone in its entire range. He held that no ' local ' colour
could exist nakedly in painting in its actual or unmodified char-
acter— that there could be no brush mark or note in a picture
of an unmodified or raw pigment. To him all tones were modi-
fications of grey, or of colour controlled by grey varying from
nearly pure white to all but black. In this system of control he
used his palette — limited in range, but, in his method of use,
under precise and extremely delicate control. It was the perfect
instrument for the music he played upon it.
" An extended power he seems never to have attempted or
cared for. He painted no picture of full daylight tone. All his
work is of the evening or of equally quiet indoor effect. He
kept his studio curtained to a low tone of light. The few pictures
he painted out of doors are of deliberately restrained range of
colour, but the inter-relation of tone and colour within the limits
he adopted, is perfectly true. Perhaps the passage of fullest
power of colour is the painting of the two girls' heads in the
Symphony in White No. HI. — a remarkable passage of brilliant
and pure colour.
" That he had difficulty with some of his schemes of work and
in some failed to master his material was evident from the many
unfinished portraits he left, such, for instance, as the Iris shown
in the London Memorial Exhibition of 1905.
" Perhaps his practice of working over the whole surface of his
canvas at one time was bound sometimes to lead to failure in such
large work, while it was essential to his smaller and perfectly
successful Nocturnes.
" In the initial and in the final stages of any work such a
method is a necessity and an almost obvious rule of workman-
ship. The first planning and the last work of completion must be
comprehensive and must involve all the large relations, but, in
the intermediate stages of building, the need of concentration
upon separate elements would seem to be equally insistent.
1902] 275
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Whistler's unvarying practice in this respect has seemed to
explain the strange fact that he never painted hands in his por-
traits, or else placed them in such positions as to make them nearly
invisible. On this account he has been taxed with shirking or
avoiding difficult problems of drawing — an accusation most futile
to any one acquainted with the rendering of form in his many
drawings, and such of his paintings as the Blacksmith of Lyme
Regis. A much more reasonable cause is in his own insistent
demand that all details or parts of a picture must be worked
upon at one time, a counsel of perfection that exceeded
possibility.
" His greatest technical successes are in the pictures painted
with the least labour — the Nocturnes. Miraculous as is the
achievement of the portrait of Miss Alexander, it lacks perhaps
the sign of spontaneous treatment, which is so great a part of the
poetic charm of the Nocturnes.
" These paintings stand as a new mark in the discovered region
of the art of painting. In future no student can arrive at full
mastery who has not comprehended this last development of
the Tradition — a Tradition no longer taught by word of ^mouth,
nor to be found in books, but none the less visible. In its search
the last leader was Whistler and the last hint of new direction is
in his work."
March saw Whistler once more established in Tite Street,
but, as we have said, he asked no one while he stayed with
" the Ladies," the name invariably by which he spoke of his
mother- and sisters-in-law. There was one almost clandestine
meeting with Mr. G. Sauter, Whistler's desire to hear about
the Boers, to whom he "never referred, of course, in the
presence of the Ladies," becoming too strong to be endured,
and he could rely upon Mr. Sauter for both sympathy and
the latest news. It was an interval of mystery in the
studio. No one was invited, few were admitted, nothing
was heard of the work being done. Whistler always liked
to keep up a certain effect of mystery in his movements,
but we have never known him to carry it so far as during
the first month or so after his return from Bath. At last,
J. was summoned. Whistler would not let him come
276 [1902
IN SEARCH OF HEALTH
further than the little ante-room, talking to him through
the thin partition, but presently, probably forgetting, called
him into the studio and went on painting, and, to all
appearances, there was no reason for any mystery. No
doubt Whistler realised he had little strength left and was
eager to devote that little to his work. But, even in ill-
health, he could not live without people about him, and he
soon fell back into his old ways.
To avoid further wandering, for which he no longer felt
equal, he took another house, again in Chelsea, where he
had lived almost thirty years; he had been absent hardly
more than ten. Mrs. and Miss Birnie Philip went to
live with him. The house, not many doors west of old
Chelsea Church, was No. 74 Cheyne Walk, built by Mr. C.
R. Ashbee, and it stood on the site of a fishmonger's shop
of which Whistler had made a lithograph. There was a
spacious studio at the back in which, in his words, he returned
to his " old scheme in grey." Its only drawbacks were that,
unfortunately for him, it was on a lower level than the
street, reached by a descent of two or three steps from the
entrance hall, and that the rest of the house was sacrificed to
it. Two flights of stairs went up to the drawing-room where,
in glass-enclosed cases running round the room, he placed
his beautiful blue-and-white china. Kitchen and dining-
room were on this floor, but another flight of stairs led to the
bedrooms under the eaves. Almost all the windows opening
upon the river were placed so high and filled with such small
panes that little could be seen from them of the beauty of
the Thames and its shores so dear to Whistler. The street
door was in beaten copper and the house was full of decorative
touches which, he said,
" Make me wonder what I am doing here anyhow ? — the whole,
you know, a successful example of the disastrous effect of art
upon the middle classes."
Into this house he moved in April.
1902] 377
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
He reserved his energy now for his work and went out
scarcely at all. " J'y dine, j'y dort " still held good, and his
visits to us were chiefly on Sunday when he came for noonday
breakfast, sometimes alone, sometimes to meet American
and other friends. He did not even dare risk the dinner
given by London artists this spring to Rodin who, however,
breakfasted with him a day or two after. In connection
with this breakfast we mention a curious little detail that
shows how sensitive Whistler was on certain subjects. Mr.
Lante"ri and Mr. Tweed came with M. Rodin, and this is
Whistler's account to us on the same day:
" It was all very charming. Rodin distinguished in every
way — the breakfast very elegant — but — well, you know, you
will understand. Before they came, naturally, I put my work
out of sight, canvases up against the wall with their backs
turned — nothing in evidence. And you know, never once, not
even after breakfast, did Rodin ask to see anything, not that I
wanted to show anything to Rodin, I needn't tell you — but in a
man so distinguished, it seemed a want of — well, of what West
Point would have demanded under the circumstances."
He was hurt because it was Rodin. No doubt Rodin thought,
from the careful manner in which work was put out of sight,
that he was not expected to refer to it. His opinion of
Whistler we know, for he has written it to us :
" Whistler etait un peintre dont le dessin avail beaucoup de pro-
fondeurs, et cettes-ci furent preparees par de bonnes etudes, car il a
du etudier assidiiment.
" II sentait la forme, non seulement comme le font les bons peintres
mais de la maniere des bons sculpteurs. II await un sentiment
extremement fin, qui a fait croire a quelques uns que sa base rf etait
pas forte, mais elle etait au contraire, et forte et sure.
" II comprenait admirablement r atmosphere, et un de ses tableaux
qui m'a le plus mvement impressionne, ' La Tamise (barrage) a
Chelsea,'' est merveitteux au point de vue de la profondeur de Vespace.
Le paysage en somme n'a rien ; il rfy a que cette grande etendue
d* atmosphere, rendue avec un art consomme.
" L'ceuvre de Whistler ne perdra jamais par le temps ; elle gag-
278 [1902
IN SEARCH OF HEALTH
nera ; car une de ses forces est Venergie, une aittre la delicatesse ;
mais la principale est Vetude du dessin"
In the studio, work was still going on. In May, Whistler
showed us the portrait of Mr. Richard A. Canfield which he
had just begun, Miss Birnie Philip was sitting to him, he was
working on the portrait of Miss Kinsella, the Vemis, the little
heads, and he was adding to the series of pastels. He was
much bothered about the show of his prints and pastels
which M. B£nedite wished to make at the Luxembourg and
he was anxious to hand over the details to J., who could not,
however, see to them, as he was away constantly this year.
Whistler looked forward to the show because of the official
character it would have, though after recent purchases of
pictures for the Luxembourg he said, " You know, really,
I told Benedite, if this goes on I am afraid I must take my
4 Mummy ' from his Hotel."
He had not been many days in his new house before he
discovered another drawback which it is to be regretted was
not foreseen for him. He had hardly moved in before building
was begun by Mr. Ashbee on a vacant lot next door. " It
is knock, knock, knock all day," Whistler said, and his
resentment was unbounded. When he came to us, he could
think and talk of nothing else. In his nervous state the noise
was a perpetual irritation, and, worse, the feeling that
advantage had been taken of him and that he had not been
informed of the nuisance beforehand put him into a violent
temper. This was the one thing above all, the doctor de-
clared, must be avoided as, excitement was bad for his heart.
There was no mistaking the effect of this daily annoyance
upon his health. He hoped for legal redress and he referred
the matter to Mr. Webb. But the knocking continued.
On June 17 E. dined with him at Cheyne Walk, the one other
guest Mr. Freer, who had recently arrived from Detroit, and
it seemed to her as if Whistler was fast losing the good done
1902] 279
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
him by the winter's rest and quiet. Mrs. and Miss Birnie
Philip were both uneasy, and it came as no surprise to hear
a few days later that he had left the house in search of repose
and distraction in Holland, with Mr. Freer as his companion.
It was too late. At The Hague, where he stayed in the Hotel
des Indes, he was dangerously ill, at death's door. Mr.
Freer remained as long as he could and Miss Birnie Philip
and Mrs. Whibley hurried to take care of him. The moment
was the most critical he had yet passed. There was no
suggestion of it, however, in the first public sign he gave of
convalescence. A stupid reporter telegraphed from The
Hague that the trouble with Whistler was old age and that
it would take him a long time to get over it. The Morning
Post published an article that Whistler thought had been
prepared in anticipation of death which, sparing him for the
time, spared also the old wit. He wrote to beg that the
" ready wreath and quick biography " might be put back
into their pigeon hole for later use ; in reference to the
writer's description of his person, he apologised for " continuing
to wear my own hair and eyebrows after distinguished con-
freres and eminent persons have long ceased the habit ; "
and those who read the letter in print could not imagine that,
only a few days previously, his letter-writing in this world
seemed to have come to an end for evermore. It is to be
remembered also because it contains his last word about
Swinburne, and it is pleasant to find that now the bitterness
with which he wrote the more famous Et tu Brute of The
Gentle Art had disappeared. The same article stated that
Swinburne's verses inspired The Little White Girl. Whistler
explained that the lines
"were only written in my studio after the picture was painted.
And the writing of them was a rare and graceful tribute from
the poet to the painter — a noble recognition of work by the
production of a nobler one."
280 [1902
IN SEARCH OF HEALTH
After Mr. Freer had gone, Mr. Heinemann, at Whistler's
urgent appeal, joined him in The Hague, a fortunate circum-
stance, as two charming old spinster cousins of his, the Misses
Norman, were able to find for the patient every sort of com-
fort which was naturally out of reach of a stranger. They
took rooms for him near the Hotel des Indes, suggested? a
nurse, prepared food for him, and interested The Hague artists
in his presence. Mesdag, Israels and Van s'Gravesande
were attentive. Afterwards, Van s'Gravesande wrote :
" Je Vai beaucoup aime. Whistler malgre tout son quarrelling
avec tout le monde, c'etait un ' tres bon garqon ' et tout a fait charmant
entre camarades. «7'at passe, qudques jours avec lui, il y dejd une
vingtaine d'annees, a Dordrecht, nous y avons fait des croquis, des
promenades sur Veau, &c. <fec. J'en garde toujours un excellent
souvenir. On ne pent pas s'imaginer un compagnon plus gentil
que lui, enjoue, aimable, sans aucune prttention, enthousiaste, et
avec cela travailleur comme pas un."
Whistler also enjoyed the society of his doctor — " the
Court Doctor, quite the most distinguished in Holland."
Mr. Clifford Addams came for a while from Dieppe, and in
September E. was in Holland. Whistler was then so 'much
better that he made the short journey from The Hague to
Amsterdam, where she was staying, to ask her to go with
him to the Rijks Museum and look at the Effie Deans, which
he had not yet seen in the gallery, as well as the Rembrandts.
It is not easy for her to forgive the chance that took her
away from the Hotel before the telegram announcing his visit
was delivered. She heard of him afterwards at Muller's
book shop, where he had been in search of old paper, for which
they said his demand in Amsterdam had been so great and
constant that dealers now placed a fabulous price upon it.
E. afterwards went to The Hague, where she found him in
rooms that certainly in the last hours of packing looked bare
and comfortless, for he had decided to start for London the
1902] 281
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
next day. He had promised to lunch with his doctor, so
that she saw only enough of him to realise how frail and
depressed and irritable illness had left him. His sisters-in-
law told her that the doctor said he could keep well only
by the greatest care and constant watchfulness, that he
must not be allowed excitement, that he must not walk
up many stairs.
Mr. G. Sauter was more fortunate than E., and we have
from him his impressions of Whistler in The Hague when,
with the first cheerful days of his recovery, his interest in lif«
seemed to revive :
" Realising the difficulty of conveying^my vivid impressions, I
have hesitated for so long to give you an account of our experiences
with Whistler during the last days of August and the beginning
of September 1902, in Holland, soon after the severe illness, which
he suffered and which brought forth the premature obituary
notice in a London paper, to which the master replied with his
own facile pen.
"A letter which I received in the beginning of August was
sufficient proof that he was convalescent, and that he had regained
his interest in many affairs, and that he was enjoying The Hague
and the Hotel des Indes, but also that he was longing for the
society of friends from London. Towards the end of August our
journey to Belgium and Holland brought us to The Hague, and
of course our first visit was to him.
" It was indeed a pleasure to hear his gay voice, after he had
received our card, calling down from the top of the stairs, ' Are
you there — just wait a bit — I will be down in a moment.* In
a few minutes his thin, delicately dressed figure appeared, in
his face delight, gay as a schoolboy released from school and
determined to have an outing.
" He had then removed to apartments a few doors from the
Hotel, but to the latter he invited us to lunch. With intense appre-
ciation Whistler spoke of the attention and consideration shown
to him by the Hotel people during his illness. All was sun like
the beautiful sunny warm August day, and as if to give proof
of his statements about the cooking, management, and every-
thing, in the Hotel, he ordered lunch with great care.
282 [1902
IN SEARCH OF HEALTH
" He was full of gaiety and his amusement over the obituary,
and his own reply to it, was convincing enough that neither his
spirit nor his memory had suffered.
" After lunch, Whistler insisted on taking us for a drive to show
us the ' charming surroundings ' of The Hague and the Bosch.
We drove also to Scheveningen. He was full of admiration and
love for The Hague.
" On the way to Scheveningen the real state of his health
became alarmingly evident. He looked very ill and fell asleep
in the carriage, but to my suggestion to drive home and have a
rest he would not listen.
" It was a glorious afternoon, and the calm sea with the little
white breakers, the sand with hundreds of figures moving on it,
and children playing in gay dresses, made a wonderful picture
to enjoy in his company.
" About 5 P.M. we brought him to his rooms after arranging to
visit the Mauritshuis together next day.
"About 11.30 next morning we met in the Gallery, and
wandered from room to room. He was all alive and bright again,
and there he showed particular interest in and affection for
Rembrandt's Father, and spoke of it as a fine example of the
mental development of the artist, which, he said, should be con-
tinuous from work to work up to the end.
" I mentioned that we were going to the Vieux Doelen to lunch
to meet General De Wet ; his interest in this announcement was in-
tense, and I had to promise to tell him all about it in the afternoon.
" On coming to the two portraits by Franz Hals he examined
the work with undisguised delight, but the full disclosure of feel-
ing towards the Master of Haarlem was reserved to us for the
next day.
" On my saying ' we are going to Haarlem to morrow,' Whistler
promptly replied, ' O, I might come along with you.'
" In his delicate state of health this reply was startling indeed,
and realising the responsibility of allowing him to undertake even
the small journey away from his rooms, and Doctor, I replied,
' but we are leaving by an early train.' ' O, then I might follow
later on,' he finished.
" Thus we parted, he to his rooms, we to the Vieux Doelen.
" About 4 P.M. I went round to give him an account of my
meeting with De Wet, which aroused the greatest curiosity, and
many questions I had to face.
1902] 283
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
" When I asked him whether he had seen the Generals, he said,
' You see, I just drove round and left my cards on their
Excellencies.'
" But still the journey to Haarlem occupied his mind, and
before I left him it came out : ' Well, you are going to Haarlem
early to-morrow ? Perhaps I will see you there.'
" I certainly would never have dreamt for a moment that he
would carry out what I took for passing fancy, and intense was
my astonishment when next day about noon at the Haarlem
Gallery I saw Whistler in the doorway, smilingly looking towards
me, saying : ' Ah, I just wanted so see what you are doing.'
" From this moment until we took the train at the Haarlem
Station back to The Hague, a nature revealed itself in its force
and subtlety, its worship for the real and its humility before the
great, combined with the experience of age, with the enthusiasm
of youth.
" Hardly could I get Whistler away for a small lunch.
*' We wandered along the line from the early St. George's
Shooting Guild of 1616 down to the old women of 1664.
"Certainly no collection would give stronger support to
Whistler's theory that a master grows in his art, from picture to
picture, till the end, than that at Haarlem.
" We went through the life with Hals the people portrayed
on the canvases, his relations with, and attitude towards, his
sitters ; he entered in his mind into the studio to examine the
canvas before the picture was started and the sitters arrived, how
Hals placed the men in the canvas in the positions appropriate to
their ranks, how he divined the character, from the responsible
colonel down to the youthful dandy lieutenant, and how he revelled
in the colours of their garments !
" As time went on, Whistler's enthusiasm increased, and even
the distance between the railing and the picture was too great for
this intimate discourse. All of a sudden, he crept under the
railing close up to the picture, but lo ! this pleasure could not
last for long.
" The attendant arrived and gave him in unmistakable words
to understand that this was not the place from which to view
the pictures.
" And Whistler crawled obediently back from his position, but
not discouraged, saying ' Wait — we will stay after they are gone '
— pointing to the other visitors.
284 [1902
IN SEARCH OF HEALTH
" Matters were soon arranged with the courteous little chief
attendant down in the hall, who, pointing to the signature in the
visitor's book, asked, ' la dat de groote Schilder ' (Is that the great
painter ?) and on my confirming it, pressed his hands together,
bent a little on one side, opened his eyes and mouth wide, and
exclaimed under his breath, ' Ach ! ' He was a rare little man.
" We were soon free from fellow visitors and watchful attend-
ants, and no more restrictions were in the way for Whistler's
outburst of enthusiasm.
" We were indeed alone with Franz Hals.
" Now nothing could keep him away from the canvases,
particularly the groups of old men and women got their f ull share
of appreciation.
" He went under the railing again turning round towards me,
saying, ' Now, do get me a chair.' And after it was pushed under
the railing, he went on, ' And now, do help me on the top of it.'
From that moment there was no holding him back — he went
absolutely into raptures over the old women — admiring every-
thing— his exclamation of joy came out now at the top of his
voice, now in the most tender, almost caressing whisper — ' Look at
it — just look — look at the beautiful colour — the flesh — look at
the white — that black — look how those ribbons are put in. O
what a swell he was — can you see it all — and the character — how
he realised it ' — moving with his hand so near the picture as if he
wanted to caress it in every detail — he screamed with joy, ' Oh,
I must touch it — just for the fun of it ' — and he moved tenderly
with his fingers, over the face of one of the old women.
" There was the real Whistler — the man, the artist, the painter
— there was no ' why drag in Velasquez' spirit — but the spirit of a
youth, full of ardour, full of plans, on the threshold of his work
oblivious of the achievements of a life-time.
" He went on to analyse the picture in its detail.
" * You see, she is a grand person ' — pointing to the centre
figure — ' she wears a fine collar, and look at her two little black
bows — she is the Treasurer — she is the Secretary — she keeps the
records ' — pointing at each in turn with his finger.
" With a fierce look in his eye, as though he would repulse an
attack on Hals — and in contemptuous tone, he burst out, ' They
say he was a drunkard, a coarse fellow, don't you believe it — they
are the coarse fellows. Just imagine a drunkard doing these
beautiful things ! '
1902] 285
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
" ' Just look how tenderly this mouth is put in — you must see
the portrait of himself and his wife at the Rijks Museum. He
was a swagger fellow. He was a Cavalier — see the fine clothes he
wears. That is a fine portrait, and his Lady — she is charming,
she is lovely.' In time, however, the excitement proved too
much for him in his weak state, and it was high time to take him
away into the fresh air. He appeared exhausted, and I feared a
collapse after such emotions.
" During my absence in looking for a carriage, he went on talk-
ing to Mrs. Sauter. ' This is what I would like to do — of course,
you know, in my own way ' — meaning the continual progress of
his work to the last. ' O, I would have done anything for my
Art.' It was a great relief to have him safely seated in the
carriage with us.
" Once there he soon regained his spirits and, as we had ex-
pected to meet Mrs. Pennell at the Gallery but looked in vain for
her, we now drove from hotel to hotel in search of her, and on this
expedition a truly Whistlerian incident happened. Stopping
before one of the hotels, he requested to see the Proprietor, who
appeared immediately at the side of the carriage, a tall, solemn-
looking gentleman, with a long reddish beard, bowing courteously,
but the gentleman could give no information about Mrs. PennelPs
arrival at his Hotel. After minute inquiries about the place,
Whistler turned to him asking, ' Monsieur, what hotel would you
recommend in Haarlem if you would recommend any ? ' to which
he promptly and seriously replied, ' Monsieur, if I would recom-
mend a hotel in Haarlem I would recommend my own.' ' Thank
you, Monsieur; thank you,' responded Whistler, touching his
hat, bowing slightly. And we drove on soon, to arrive at the
Hotel where we intended to take tea, and rest.
" Soon we were happily settled on our return journey, in a
special compartment, which he was, in his chivalrous consideration
towards ladies, most anxious to reserve, as he put it, ' to make
Mrs. Sauter comfortable — she is tired.'
" With it, a day full of emotions, amusement and anxieties
came to an end — and, as it proved to Whistler, the last pilgrimage
to Franz Hals.
" It needed no persuasion to keep Whistler at home after so
fatiguing a day.
" But on our return to the Hotel late the next afternoon, we
were told that he had called three times, and finally left a note
286 [1902
IN SEARCH OF HEALTH
asking us to come round in the morning and also to bring him
news of Mrs. Pennell.
" Monday was a fete day for Holland — the Queen's birthday,
and the town gay with flags and orange streamers and happy
holiday crowds.
" I went round early to keep him company and bring him the
news he wished for.
" We sat at his window overlooking merry-go-rounds, little toy
and sweet stalls and throngs of little children in their loyal smart
frocks.
" * What a pretty sight — if I only had my water-colours here I
could do a nice little picture,' he remarked.
" Dr. Bisschop had kindly arranged to take us and Mr. Bruck-
mann to the Gallery of Mesdag, and Whistler accepted an in-
vitation to join us.
" There the Canalettos were of chief interest to him. Lunch
at a cafe — another visit to the Mauritshuis, and tea at his rooms
brought our stay to an end."
1902] 287
CHAPTER XLV1I1. THE END. THE
YEARS NINETEEN HUNDRED AND
TWO TO NINETEEN HUNDRED AND
THREE
WHISTLER came back to No. 74 Cheyne Walk, to the
noise of building, to the bedroom at the top of the
house — to the conditions against which the doctor's warning
was most emphatic. When we saw him about the middle of
September, he had been again very ill and was still confined
to his room. On our next visit, within a few days, he was
in bed, but he had been moved downstairs to a small room
adjoining the studio, intended, no doubt, for a model's dressing-
room. In one way it was an improvement, for there were
no stairs and his studio was close at hand whenever he had
strength for work ; but, in another, it was no improvement at
all, for the one window looked out upon the street and the
noise of children and traffic was added to that of the builders'
knocking.
Except in this house, we never saw him after his return
from The Hague. At times, in the winter and spring, he
was able to go out in a carriage, but to us he never came
again, for the three flights of stairs to our flat rose between
him and us, an insurmountable barrier. Therefore we rarely
saw him quite in the old way, there were seldom the old long
and intimate talks, for he was not often alone in the studio.
Miss Birnie Philip was usually with him, sometimes sitting apart
with her knitting, and only rarely drawn into the conversation.
Mrs. Whibley was frequently there, and before " the Ladies "
288 [1902
THE END
there were reservations in Whistler's talk, for with many
things " the Ladies " were not to be " troubled." This
involved a certain restraint in himself and often caused a
sensation of oppression in his visitors. Then there was a
coming and going of his models, visits from his doctors, his
solicitor, his barber, and many other people who helped to
distract him. His friends were devoted, encouraged by him
and knowing how he welcomed any one who came from the
world without, which was now inaccessible for him : Mr.
Luke lonides, oldest of all, Mrs. Whistler, Mr. Walton, who
lived next door, Mr. Sauter, Mr. Lavery, Mr. and Mrs. Addams
his apprentices, Mr. Arthur Studd his near neighbour : they
all seemed to drift in and out almost daily. He was bored
when left alone and unable to work — even though he had of
recent years developed an extraordinary passion for reading ;
as a matter of fact, he was hardly ever lonely for he was
surrounded as he always liked to be in his studio, and yet he
seemed himself to feel the restraint of his condition and to
grow restless, so that his wish at this time to rejoin Mr.
Heinemann in " house-keeping " was only too natural to most
of us.
Whistler was never himself after his illness in The Hague,
though he had intervals when a little of his energy re-
turned, and he worked and hoped. We knew at once on
seeing him when he was not so well, for his costume of invalid
remained strikingly original. He clung to an old fur-lined
overcoat which he had long since worn into shabbiness. In his
younger years he had objected to a dressing-gown as an
unmanly concession, apparently he had not outgrown the
objection, and on his bad days this shabby, worn-out overcoat
was its unsatisfactory substitute. Nor did the studio seem
the most comfortable place for a man so ill as he was. It
was bare, with little furniture, as his studios always were,
and he had not used it enough to give it even the air of a
1902] ii :T 289
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
workshop. The whole house showed the fact that illness was
reigning there. The hall had a more unfinished, more un-
settled, look than the entrance at the Rue du Bac, and it was
sometimes strewn with the trays and odds and ends of the
sickroom. Papers and books lay on the floor of the little
drawing-room, in contrast to the wonderful array of blue and
white in the cases. A litter of things at times covered the
sideboard in the dining-room. Everywhere you felt the
cheerlessness of a house which is not really lived in. When,
during the winter, we saw Whistler in his big, shabby overcoat,
shuffling about the huge studio, he struck us as so old, so feeble
and fragile that we could imagine no sadder or more tragic
figure. It was the more tragic because he had always been
so much of a dandy, a word he would have been the first to
use in reference to himself. We recall his horror once when
he heard a story that represented him as untidy and slovenly.
*' I ! " he said, " I, when if I had only an old rag to cover me
I should wear it with neatness and propriety and the utmost
distinction ! " But no one would have suspected the dandy
in this forlorn little old man, wrapped in a worn overcoat,
hardly able to walk. On his bad days, however, there was not
much walking about, and he lay stretched out on an easy
chair, talking little, barely listening, and dozing. His nights
were often sleepless — he had lost the habit of sleep, he told us —
and as the day went on he became so drowsy that it seemed as
if nothing could rouse him from what was more like a lethargic
slumber than like sleep. Sometimes, sitting by the table
where tea was served, he would rest his forehead on the edge
of the table, fall asleep, and remain like that, motionless, for
an hour and more. A pretty little cat, all brown and gold
and white, that lived in the studio, was often curled up on
his lap, sleeping too. His devotion to her was something to
remember and we have seen him get up, when probably he
would not have stirred for any human being, just to empty the
290 [1902
THE END
stale milk from her saucer and fill it up with fresh. A special
message was sent to us later in the winter to announce the
birth of her first kittens that also made the studio their
home and became a source of endless mild distraction to
the invalid. .
When his good days came, he liked to play dominoes after
tea and he cheated with his accustomed naivet£. He often
kept J. for a game and sometimes for dinner with himself and
Miss Birnie Philip in the studio, the climb to the dining-room
being for him, now and to the end, out of the question.
There were days when he would say he never could get back
to work again, but others when he managed to work with not
only the old vigour, but the old mastery. He had an Irish
model, Miss Dorothy Seton, whose red hair was remarkably
beautiful and whose face Whistler thought as remarkable,
for it reminded him of Hogarth's Shrimp Girl. One after-
noon J. found him painting the picture of her, with her red
hair hanging over her shoulders and an apple in her hand,
to which the title Daughter of Eve was eventually given. He
was walking up and down the studio in high spirits, looking
almost strong, and he seized J. by the arm in the old fashion
and walked him up and down too. " Well, Joseph, how
long do you think it took me to paint that, now ? " and not
for many weeks had he shown such animation as when he
added, " It was done in a couple of hours this very morning."
So far as we know, it was the last important picture he painted,
and it was, as J. then saw it, an extremely fine example of
his latest period. He must have worked on it again, however,
for at the Paris Memorial Exhibition the bloom of its first
beauty had faded from it. Now and then he worked on a
portrait of Miss Birnie Philip and he was anxious to continue
the portrait started a year or so before of Mrs. Heinemann,
a lovely harmony which needed for its completion only a few
more sittings, but, to the world's loss, these could not be
1902] 291
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
arranged. He saw to the cleaning of the Rosa Corder which,
Mr. Canfield, who was buying pictures, drawings and
prints in the studio, bought this winter for two thousand
pounds from Mr. Graham Robertson. Whistler telegraphed
for us to come and look at it for the last time in England,
" to make your adieux to her before her departure for
America.'* When we arrived at the studio, he was better
than he had been since his return from The Hague. He had
slept eight hours and a half that night and he rejoiced in not
being sleepy. He wiped the canvas here and there most
tenderly with a silk handkerchief and kept turning round to
ask triumphantly, " Isn't she beautiful ? "
Mr. Canfield was sitting at this time again for his portrait,
and during his stay in London he was very much in the
studio where he was always welcome, not as a sitter only,
but even as a friend. He seemed almost to have hypnotised
Whistler, whom we heard say once that Canfield was the only
man who had never made a mistake in the studio. We could
not help regretting this because of Canfield's notorious repu-
tation in New York, and because of the unpleasant things
which were being said of Whistler's tolerance of the man.
Whistler had been warned, but had sacrificed a friendship of
years in his indignation at " a breath of scandal " against
any one whom he had introduced to " the Ladies." In the
early part of 1903 we received numerous letters and telegrams
from correspondents of American papers in London, all
re-echoing the question in the big New York dailies — " Is
Whistler painting gambler Canfield ? " Whistler's condition
rendered any remark which might excite him impossible, and
everybody now hesitated to suggest to him that Canfield was
a very public character to include in one's private circle. Can-
field's visits did not cease, and the one fact that reconciled
us to his presence in the studio was that it resulted in one of
Whistler's masterpieces. The portrait, His Reverence, ranks
292 [1902
THE GIRL IN BLACK
THE END
undoubtedly with The Master Smith of Lyme Regis, and is
certainly the finest of his later portraits.
Whistler succeeded in keeping up many of his other interests.
He often saw print dealers who came for his prints. On two
memorable afternoons, Mr. David Kennedy brought the
large MacGeorge Collection of Whistler's echings, which he had
just purchased in Glasgow, for Whistler to look over, and,
in some cases, we believe to sign them. He went through
as many as he could, commenting on their state and their
preservation. There were some he had not seen for years,
and Mr. lonides, who was present on one of the afternoons,
seemed to know more about them than Whistler himself.
Whistler soon tired, and was not to be revived even by the
bottle of American cocktails which Mr. Kennedy, to his un-
qualified approval, also brought. Several times we arrived
to find him going through the accumulations of " charming
things " sent over when the studio in the Rue Notre-Dame-
des-Champs was given up. Many that he did not find so
charming, were, we understand, destroyed by him. On
other days he read us some of his earlier correspondences —
all the " wonderful letters " to the Fine Art Society during
the Venetian period. And once, tired though he was, he
insisted on reading to us just once more his letter to another
dealer, who had threatened him with a writ and whom he
warned of the appearance he would make,
" with one hand presenting a Sir Joshua to the nation, with the
• other serving a writ on Whistler. Well indeed is it that the
right hand knows not always what the left hand doeth."
In November, he sent the Little Cardinal, which had been
at the Salon the previous summer, to the Portrait Painters'
Exhibition. Some critics spoke of it as a work already seen,
giving the impression, he thought, that it dated back many
years. He wrote to the Standard to contradict this im-
1902] 293
pression. We called to see him on the afternoon the letter
was written, and he was in great glee over it. He said :
" The letter is one of my best. I describe Wedmore as Pod-
snap — an inspiration, isn't it ? — With the discovery of Podsnap
in art criticism I almost feel the thump of Newton's apple on
my head, and this I have said. Heinemann promises to take
it himself to the Editor of the Standard, and really the whole
thing has such a flavour of intrigue that I do believe it has made
me well again ! "
He even planned to publish the criticism, his letter, the
answers, and his final comments, a scheme begun but,
owing to his feeble health, never carried out. To an
exhibition of old silver at the Fine Art Society's he also
paid much attention. He lent many of his finest pieces
and insisted upon their being shown together in a case
apart, and arranged according to his instructions. His silver,
like everything else belonging to him, was a proof of his ex-
quisite taste and faultless judgment. It was chosen not
for historic interest nor for rarity, but for elegance of form
and simplicity of ornament. The other collections in the
exhibition were set out on red velvet ; his, with which he sent
some of his blue and white china, was placed on his own simple
white table linen marked with the Butterfly. After we had
been to the exhibition, he asked us for every detail :
" How did the white, the beautiful napkins look ? — didn't
the slight hint of blue in the rare old Japanese stand and the
few perfect plates tell ? — didn't the other cases seem vulgar in
comparison ? — and didn't the simplicity of my silver, evidently
for use, and cared for, make the rest look like Museum specimens ?
He examined the catalogue, found fault with it because the
McNeill, of which he was so proud, was misspelt, and he could
not understand why there were comparatively fewer entries
and shorter descriptions of his case, than of others where
history supplied a more elaborate text.
Notwithstanding his state, he forgot none of the old little
294 [1902
THE END
courtesies. When, in November, Mr. James Guthrie was
elected to the Presidency of the Royal Scottish Academy,
he telegraphed his congratulations and was repaid by his
pleasure when Guthrie, still a member of the Council of the
International, telegraphed back, " Warmest thanks, my
President." On New Year's Day (1903), we received the
usual card of good wishes it was his custom to send to his
friends — a visiting card with greetings written by himself
and signed with the Butterfly. Though he could not go to
the meetings of the International, the business done at each
had to be immediately reported and when the annual dinner
was given he considered every detail, even to the point of
revising the menu and sending special directions for the salad.
One great pleasure was the degree of LL.D. conferred upon
him by Glasgow University, at the suggestion of Mr. Guthrie
and Professor Walter Raleigh. Mr. D. S. MacColl, at their
request, we believe, and after consulting J., approached him
first to make sure that the honour would be accepted. There
was a gleam of the old " wickedness " when Mr. MacColl
called. Whistler appointed a Sunday, asking him to lunch,
but when he arrived at the appointed hour he was sent
upstairs to the unused dreary drawing-room and supplied
with Reynolds', a radical sheet adored by Whistler because of
its wholesale abuse of the " Islander." And Whistler said :
" when at last he was summoned to the studio, I told him it was
the paper that of course he always wanted to read at the Club but
was ashamed to be seen with ! And all through lunch I had
nothing to say of art — I talked of nothing except West Point."
However, when Mr. MacColl had a chance to explain why
he came, Whistler expressed his pleasure in receiving the
degree. We recall the pains he took with his letter of
acknowledgment after the official announcement came in
March, his concern for the correct word and the well-turned
phrase, his anxiety that there should be no mistake in the
1903] 295
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
Principal's title or the honorary initials after his name. It
illustrates his indefatigable care for detail if we add that,
before venturing to write the address, he sent a note, sub-
mitting it, next door to Mr. and Mrs. Walton, who were
Scotch, he said, and would know. Another pleasure of the
kind came from the deference shown him by the Art Depart-
ment of the Universal Exposition to be held in the summer of
1904 at St. Louis. Early in 1903 Professor Halsey C. Ives,
Chief of the Art Department, was in London and went with J.
to call on Whistler and to ask him to serve as Chairman of the
Committee, of which Sargent and Abbey and J. were members,
for the selection of work by American artists in England.
The invitation was also in its way a formal recognition of
Whistler's position, and he accepted, though he did not live
to occupy the post.
If his last months brought pleasures to Whistler, they were
not without worries which he was little prepared to meet.
News of books about him, in preparation or recently pub-
lished, caused him infinite annoyance, especially as he had
hoped to prevent all such enterprises by giving us his authority
for the work to which his illness was a serious interruption.
We found him one afternoon worrying himself almost into a
fever over the latest attempt of which he had heard, and
unable to think or talk of anything except the insolence of
people who undertook to write about him and actually
prepare a biography, without consulting him and his wishes.
As he talked, he complained of pains in his back, and his
restlessness was distressing to see. On another afternoon, we
found him, on the contrary, happy and chuckling joyfully over
Mr. Elbert Hubbard's Whistler in the Little Journeys series,
published from the Roy croft Press. He read us passages :
"Really with this book I can be amused — I have to laugh.
I don't know how many people have taken my name in print,
and, you know, usually I am furious. But the intimate tone of
296 [1903
THE END
this is something quite new. What would my dear Mummy —
don't you know, as you see her with her folded hands at the
Luxembourg — have said to this story of my father's courtship ?
And our stay in Russia — our arrival in London — why, the account
of my mother and me coming to Chelsea and finding lodgings
makes you almost see us — wanderers — bundles at the end of
long sticks over our shoulders — arriving footsore and weary
at the hour of sunset. Amazing ! — it would be worth while, you
know, to describe not the book but the effect on me reading it."
He was looking desperately ill the day he told us that
Montesquieu had sold his portrait, and was not even consoled
by the fact that Mr. Canfield was the purchaser so that it
would, therefore, remain for the present at least in America.
He was the more hurt because Montesquiou was a friend and,
" you know, the descendant of a long distinguished line of
French noblemen." There were unnecessary worries. Mr.
Freer sent some of Whistler's pictures to the Winter Exhibition
at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia.
The artists, in their appreciation, awarded him the Academy's
Gold Medal of Honour, and in order to give the pictures the
place of greatest distinction, where they would look best,
hung them before anything was installed, building up a
screen for them in the most important room, and beginning
the numbers in the catalogue with them. For some reason
Mr. Freer did not approve of the hanging and seems to have
misunderstood the motives for it. The secretary could make
no change. As the incident was reported to Whistler he
fancied a slight in the very arrangement which was meant to
give him artistic precedence. A similar incident occurred in
the Spring Exhibition of the Society of American Artists in
New York where, also, Mr. Freer objected to the place chosen
for Whistler's work. Whistler, as a result, was disturbed by
the idea that American artists at home were treating him with
indifference, or contempt, though this was at the time of all
others when their acceptance of him as master was complete
1903] 397
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
and their eagerness to proclaim it publicly as great. Whistler
went so far as to say that he never wished work of his to hang
again in the Pennsylvania Academy, and in regard to the
New York Exhibition he wrote protesting to the New York
papers. The agitation and excitement did him no good and
in his weakness such small worries were magnified into grave
troubles. It is the more to be regretted, because, on all sides,
in America, he was honoured. The Sarasate had been bought
for the Carnegie Institute in Pittsburgh, where to-day it is
prized as one of the most important pictures in the gallery,
and where we are sorry to see that it is going the way of some
of his other paintings, and cracking. The Yellow Buskin
was in the Wilstach Collection, Philadelphia, and The Master
Smith and The Little Rose of Lyme Regis in the Boston Museum
of Fine Arts, and hardly an American collector of note was
not making every effort to include Whistlers in his collection.
Whistler's health varied so during the winter that we were
often encouraged to hope. But with the spring, hope lessened
with every visit. To consult our notes is to realise more fully
than at the time how gradually, but surely, the end was
approaching. The afternoons of sleep increased in number
with the increasing weakness of his heart. He could not
shake off the influenza-cold which was dragging him down,
and he lived in constant fear of infection from others if any-
body even sneezed in his presence. " I can't risk any more
microbes — I've had about enough of my own." At times
his cough was so bad that he was afraid to talk and he would
write what he wanted to say ; it was his tonsils, he explained.
There were visits when, from the moment we came until we
left, he worried, first because the windows were open, then
because they were shut, and his impatience if the doctor's
visit was delayed would have exhausted a stronger man.
J. dined with him on May 14, when there was a rekindling of
the old gaiety. He showed the portrait of Mr. Canfield, he
298 [1903
THE END
played dominoes for hours, at dinner, when a gooseberry
,tart was served, he apologised with all his old malice for the
" Island." But after this there was no more gaiety for us to
record. A few days later J. went abroad for several weeks,
and Mr. Heinemann sailed for America. When he said
good-bye to Whistler he was entrusted with innumerable
commissions. He was to find out the truth concerning the
treatment of Whistler's pictures in Philadelphia and New
York, to discover who his new unauthorised biographers
were, what artists and literary people were saying, what
dealers were doing, and, when he returned, then they would
" keep house together again." This was the moment when
Mr. Heinemann actually took another flat, with the identical
arrangements of his first, in Whitehall Court, so that they
could go back to the old life with no change. But when,
after not very many weeks, he was in London again, the end
came before he had a chance even to see Whistler.
Luckily, while Mr. Heinemann and J. were away, Mr.
Freer arrived in London on his annual visit, and he was free
to devote himself to Whistler with whom he drove out when-
ever Whistler had the strength. But this was not for long
and with her visit to him on July 1, E. gave up the possi-
bility of hope. He was in bed, but, hearing that she was
there, he sent for her. There was a curious vague look in his
eyes, as if the old fires were all burnt out. He seemed almost
in a stupor and spoke only twice with difficulty. Miss Birnie
Philip referred to his want of appetite and the turtle soup,
ordered by the doctor, which they got from the correct place
in the City. " Shocking 1 shocking ! " Whistler broke in
slowly, and then after a minute or two, " You know, now we
are all in the City ! " Miss Birnie Philip wanted to give tea
to E., who, however, seeing how ill he was thought it wiser
not to stay and after some ten minutes said good-bye. " No
wonder," Whistler murmured, " you go from a house where
1903] 299
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
they don't give you anything to eat." E.'s next visit was on
the 6th. The doctor had been with him, he was up, dressed,
and had been out for a drive. But he looked worse, his eyes
vaguer and more dead, giving still the impression of a man
in a stupor. He said not a word until she was leaving, and
then the one remark was characteristic : " You are looking
very nice."
Reports of his feebleness came to us from others. M.
Duret, the friend of so many years, was in London, and was
deeply moved by the condition in which he found Whistler,
who, he thought, wanted to say things when alone in the
studio with him, but who could not that day utter a word.
On the 14th E. called again, and again he was dressed and
in the studio, and there were pictures on the easels. He
seemed better, though his face was as sunken and in his eyes
was that terrible vagueness. Now he talked, and a touch of
gallantry was in his greeting, " I wish I felt as well as you
look." He asked about Henley, the news of whose death had
come but a day or two before. He watched the little mother
cat as she ran about the studio. There was a sudden return
of vigour in his voice when Miss Birnie Philip brought him
a cup of chicken broth and he cried, " Take the damned
thing away," and all his old charm was in the apology that
followed, but, he said, if he ate every half-hour or so as the
doctor wanted, how could he be expected to have an appetite
for dinner ? He dozed a little, only to wake up quickly with
a show of interest in everything and when, on the arrival of
Mr. Lavery, E. got up to go, fearing that more than one
visitor would tire him, he asked, " But why do you go so
soon ? " and these were the last words he ever spoke to her.
When J. returned to town, on the 17th, he immediately
started for Chelsea, but met Mr. T. R. Way who had been
lunching with Mr. Freer and from whom he learnt that
Whistler and Mr. Freer were to go out for a drive.
300 [1903
THE END
There was no drive that afternoon — no drive ever again.
The illness had been long, the end was mercifully swift.
Whistler was dying before Mr. Freer could reach the house
in Cheyne Walk. On Thursday he had seemed much
better, had gone for a drive and was so well at dinner that
Mrs. Whibley told him laughingly he would soon again be
dressing to dine. But after lunch on Friday she was called
hurriedly to the studio, where Miss Birnie Philip already was,
and she realised at once how serious the attack was. The
doctor was sent for, but all need for him had passed.
The papers during the next few days showed the degree to
which Whistler's reputation and fame had grown with the
public. We saw another side which the public could not
see — the genuine affection and respect in which he was held
by those privileged to know him more intimately. Many
came to us in the first shock the news gave them. M. Duret,
his grief intense at the loss of the last of his old comrades —
Manet had gone, then Zola, and now Whistler, with whom
the best hours of his life were spent ; Mr. Kennedy, whose
business relations with Whistler had developed into warm
friendship ; Mr. Lavery, Mr. Sauter, Mr. Harry Wilson,
whose one thought was to show their love and reverence for
their dead President. Other artists followed, others wrote,
and our sorrow for the friend we had lost was tempered by
the satisfaction of knowing how deep and widespread was
the regret for the master who had gone. Mr. Heinemann
returned from New York, just too late to see Whistler again,
and both he and J. were at least spared the sad memory of
Whistler with the life fading from his face and the light
extinguished in his eyes.
The funeral took place on Wednesday, July 23. The
service was held in old Chelsea Church to which he had so
often walked with his mother from Lindsey Row. There
was a comparatively small attendance. The members of
1903] 301
JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER
his family who came were his sister-in-law, Mrs. William
Whistler and his nieces, Mrs. Thynne and Mrs. ReVeillon.
The Society with which, in his last years, he had identified
his interests was represented by the Council. Here and there
were friends, Mr. and Mrs. Edwin A. Abbey, M. Theodore
Duret, Sir James Guthrie, Mr. John Lavery, Mr. Heinemann,
Dr. Chalmers Mitchell, Mr. Jonathan Sturgis ; and here and
there Academicians, Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema and Mr.
Alfred East. But Whistler, who valued official recognition,
was given none at the end. No one from the American
Embassy paid the last tribute of respect to the most dis-
tinguished American citizen who ever lived in London. No
one from the French Embassy attended the funeral of the
officer of the Legion of Honour. No one from the German
Embassy joined in the last rites of the member of two German
Royal Academies and the Knight of the Order of St. Michael
of Bavaria. Nor was any one present from the Italian
Embassy though Whistler was Commander of the Crown of
Italy and member of the Academy of St. Luke. The only
body officially represented besides the International was the
Royal Scottish Academy.
The coffin was carried the short distance to the church,
along the shores of the river he made his own. It was
covered with a purple pall, upon which lay a wreath of gold
laurel leaves sent by his Society. The little funeral pro-
cession that walked with the coffin from the house to the
church included Miss Birnie Philip, Mrs. Charles Whibley,
their sisters, brother and nephews, but none of his own family,
none of the little group with whom he had been most intimate
in his last years. After the burial service was read, the pro-
cession re-formed, and the family, the Council of the Inter-
national and a few friends went with him to the graveyard
at Chiswick. It was a grey, stormy summer day, and as the
clergyman said the last prayers for the dead, and the coffin
302 [1903
WHISTLER'S PALETTK
WHISTLER'S GRAVE
THE END
was lowered, the thick London atmosphere enveloped the
green enclosure with the magic and mystery that Whistler
was the first to see and to reveal to the world. The grave
was made by the side of his wife's under a wall covered with
clematis. A low railing, like the trellis in the garden at the
Rue du Bac, with flowers growing over it, now shuts in the
little unmarked plot of ground where Whistler, the greatest
artist and most striking personality of the nineteenth century,
lies at rest in a peaceful corner of the London he loved, not
far from the house, and nearer the grave, of Hogarth, who
had been to him the greatest English master from the days
of his boyhood in St. Petersburg.
1903] 303
APPENDIX
FEW things would have given more pleasure to Whistler
" as a West Point man " than the knowledge of the deep
impression he made upon his fellow cadets and the vivid
memory of him they retain. For this reason we have all the
greater satisfaction in printing the letters of the distinguished
officers who have helped us in our story of Whistler's days at
the Military Academy, which, as we have shown, he himself
remembered with special pride. The longest and fullest
account comes from General Loomis L. Langdon, who was
unflagging in his efforts to find and obtain material for us :
" I entered West Point in June 1850, and in June 1851 passed
my examination and entered the ' Third Class.' Whistler
reported June 3, 1851, passed the examination for admission,
and was, of course, assigned to the ' Fourth Class.' He was,
therefore, in the class just below mine.
" Whistler evidently had the experience of some good school-
ing. He had considerable knowledge of French and algebra and
a marked proficiency in English grammar, and he had read much
of the best English literature, so his first year was an easy task,
but his second and third years were miserable failures.
" His conversational powers were soon recognised, as were his
various accomplishments and good breeding, while his witty
remarks and original views and sayings, often verging on the
sarcastic, could not fail to attract attention. But his intercourse
with the other cadets was, with few exceptions, confined to his own
class. The distinctions between the different classes were very
sharply drawn. Whistler was a Fourth Classman or a ' Pleb '
during his first year, and nothing in his antecedents, family,
character or mental equipment would lift him into anything but
the most formal intercourse with the youths of the classes above
him. ' Plebs ' were mere ' things,' sometimes playfully spoken of
n : u 305
APPENDIX
as ' animals,' and often the subjects of practical jokes and
cowardly and disgraceful ' hazing.' Such was the case in those
days. Since then a better discipline and the amenities as well as
necessities of the popular football game have, I suppose, broken
down some of the barriers between the classes.
" There were those who divined in Whistler the dawning of
an unmistakable genius. But the aristocracy of the sword, that
shapes the destinies of nations, has no use for a genius other
than the Napoleonic. And life at the Academy is so fully filled
with professional work that there is no time for the cadets to
sympathise with a genius if they would, or to wander aside from
the hard, beaten path of routine duties into the fields of the
fanciful and the artistic. Unflagging industry, self-denial, con-
centration to duty, implicit obedience to orders and regulations,
and proficiency in studies are the requirement for success at West
Point, where no favouritism is shown to the incompetent through
family or political influence. The standard of excellence adhered
to may be estimated by the fact that, in those days at least,
hardly more than a third of those who were admitted to the
Military Academy ever graduated.
" That was evidently no place for a genius. And many a
man who rose to distinction in after-life has had to regret that he
was ' found deficient ' at West Point. A remarkable instance of
this is found in the case of Edgar Allan Poe, the critic and poet,
who, after having been appointed a cadet by the President him-
self, served as a cadet only eight months and five days when he
was dismissed, March 6, 1831, by sentence of a general court-
martial for ' gross neglect of duty ' and ' disobedience of orders.'
"As an illustration of the lack of appreciation of the genius
in Whistler, I may mention the following : As a matter of
curiosity, I asked a general officer, whose reputation as an able
writer and man of science is world wide, and who knew Whistler
well, ' How was Whistler looked upon by the older cadets ? '
His answer, which reinforces what is said above, was : ' Well, he
was tolerated.' Which, I imagine, was his way of saying the
older cadets held Whistler in higher esteem than they held others
of his — the lower — class.
" Whistler, bound to get out of life all that was to be had in
the way of enjoyment, was never unemployed. Like his father
before him, he was addicted to pranks, not malicious, but harmless
to every one except himself. . . .
306
APPENDIX
" Whistler lived in the barracks near me. As I took great
delight in pictures, not so common as they are now, and I stood
at the head of my class in drawing and painting and he at the
head of his class in the same branches, we had a common interest ;
the distinction of classes was never thought of between us. He
was often in my room and there made sketches in Indian ink,
while he rattled on, now with some droll story, and now with
sarcastic remarks about the administration of affairs by the aca-
demic authorities, meant only for my ears. It was always a treat
for me whenever he came to my room. Indeed, we painted a large
picture together ; he the figures and I the landscape part. It was
for my class-mate, Cadet Wright. Poor Wright committed suicide
by throwing himself from a train two years after graduating,
this not because we had painted a picture for him, but during a
spell of what is now called nervous depression.
" The battalion of cadets was divided into four companies ;
ABC and D. Whistler and I were in ' C ' company, and when
the company was ' sized,' or the men arranged from right to
left according to their height, Whistler was generally near me,
and often right behind me, in the rear rank. The little rascal
took advantage of this to try and get me laughing in ranks ; for-
getting, if I were caught at it, I would get ' skinned,' i.e., reported
and incur demerit marks. Thackeray was one of our favourite
authors, and we two had been reading Pendennis at the same
time, and not seldom discussed the characters that figure in it.
There is one scene, near the end of the book, that he keenly
appreciated and to which he often referred. It is where ' Alias '
(or Altamont) escapes from the police by scrambling hastily out
of a back window of ' Captain ' Strong's room, in which also dwelt,
on sufferance, his Irish friend, an ex-army officer, Captain Costigan
the father of ' the Fotheringay,' and sliding, hand over hand,
down the broken, ramshackle gutter-pipe. Whistler liked to
rehearse old Costigan's comments on the means of escape he had
suggested to ' Alias,' and he took particular delight, occasionally,
in^whispering them to me when we were in ranks and required to
be as silent as the tomb. At many a ' dress parade ' when we
were all standing at ' parade rest,' as motionless and gravely digni-
fied as^the statues in the halls of the Vatican, when to raise a
hand^to brush aside a fiercely persistent mosquito assailing the
helpless cadet's nose was an unpardonable offence, I would be
day-dreaming of home and the blue waters of old Erie, as the band
307
APPENDIX
marched slowly past our front to the strains of delicious, soul-
inspiring music, when a muffled whisper from right behind me, in
the rear rank, would shatter my reverie and then I could hear
that little imp, Whistler, quoting, in a rich Irish brogue, Captain
Costigan, for my special benefit : ' I was reminded of that little
sthrategem by remembering me dorling Emelee, Lady Mirabel,
when she acted the puart of Cora in the plaie and by the bridge
in Pizarro, bedad ! '
" The incongruity of such remarks, though not by any means
novel, in a scene so impressive, where all else was so solemnly in
earnest, always excited my risibles, and the effort to restrain my
laughter always drew from Whistler a chuckle of satisfaction.
" Whistler's room-mate was Cadet Childs, a son of Lieutenant-
Colonel Childs of the old First Regiment of Artillery, a veteran
of the Mexican War and who had died of yellow fever at Pen-
sacola, Florida. Whistler announced the important discovery
that Childs was properly the plural of child — whereupon he
dubbed his room-mate ' Les Enfants'
" A large part of Whistler's leisure time, during ' release from
quarters,' was spent in the rooms of his class-mates and friends,
who were in my class. When thus visiting he was never idle, but
while chatting in his witty and inimitable way, was busy making
for his hosts sketches in pencil or Indian ink of figures, single or
in groups, peculiar to cadet life, or imagined scenes from Dumas'
and Hugo's novels. The Three Guardsmen, then very popular,
was a favourite with him, and with his class-mate, Cadet Vinton,
who stood well in drawing and often sketched the same subjects
with Whistler, and then the two compared their work for the
entertainment of their common friends.
" Almost invariably Whistler gave his sketches to his hosts,
who have preserved them to this day, Cadet Sawtelle of my class,
and Cadet Alexander Webb of Whistler's class, both now generals
on the retired list, still have in their possession several of these
earlier and characteristic sketches, while a number are in the
hands of the family of Colonel Black, who was in my class and
a life-long friend of Whistler. He fought in the Confederate
army during the ' late unpleasantness,' became a prosperous iron-
mine owner and died some years ago at Blackville, S.C.
" I graduated from the Academy early in June 1854, really
before Whistler's class came up for examination, nor did I know
his fate for a long time, and then, much to my deep regret, I
308
APPENDIX
learned he had been ' found,' i.e., failed, to pass the examination.
In the official records it is stated he was ' discharged June 15,
•1854, for deficiency in conduct and chemistry.'
" ' Deficiency in conduct ' sounds badly, but really it does not
imply the commission of any very serious offences. Demerit
marks were given for the slightest deviation from the strictest
rule of conduct, from a spot of rust on a musket-barrel down to
having the nightmare during the Sunday morning services in the
chapel. A ' late ' falling into ranks was one demerit ; under-
clothes not properly piled on shelves, with folded edges out, two
demerits ; smoking six demerits. The offensive cigarette and its
accompanying disgusting trick of exhaling the smoke through the
nostrils were not known in those days at West Point. One
hundred demerits during the second year deprived the cadet of
his much-coveted furlough, and two hundred in a year caused
discharge from the Academy. The more serious offences were
reserved for a general court-martial which might cause a dis-
honourable dismissal from the service.
" Colonel Wheeler, Professor of Engineering at West Point
some years ago, and member of the Academic Board, told me the
story of Whistler's failure to pass the examination in chemistry.
Silica constitutes about seven-eighths of the earth's surface, and, at
the examination of his class before the Academic Board and the
Board of Visitors, Whistler was told to discuss the subject of
silica, one of the simplest subjects in the whole course. Whistler
began his recitation by the astounding announcement : ' Silica is
a saponifiable gas ! ' That finished him. It is inconceivable
that Whistler did not know better. But it is easily believed
that, knowing from the weekly exhibit of the bad marks for his
daily recitations, he was sure to be found deficient, he promptly
and purposely made an answer so magnificently absurd that it
would be crystallised into a tradition of Whistler.
" I never saw him again until I met him in 1879 — twenty-five
years after we left school. Then I met him at the Cafb Florian
in Venice. He was then at the zenith of his fame as an artist
and was engaged in making etchings of Venetian scenery. I
saw him often on the quays, busy at his work, and long talks
did we have, recalling the old days, and exchanging bits of infor-
mation relative to the histories and fates of mutual friends, many
of whom had passed over to the great majority.
" I was very glad to take him by the hand again, glad of his
309
APPENDIX
success, and pleased to see that he had retained his bright,
attractive manner.
" Let me add that I have been always glad that I knew him
at West Point, during what I believe was the happiest part of
his life, and that I remember him as a most genial and considerate
friend and as an honest and fascinating gentleman, who seemed
always to move in a sunny atmosphere that brightened the lives
of his friends and was to them like an inspiration."
General D. McM. Gregg, who was in the class with Whistler,
writes :
" Our class was in number less than the average class of the
Academy of that period, and, notwithstanding the sectional
differences that disturbed our country at the time, and soon
thereafter resulted in the War of the Rebellion, ours was a sin-
gularly united class. We were as one in our close friendships.
We knew each other well and intimately. After more than fifty
years, I can see Whistler as a cadet. He was rather under size
for his age.
" He was not soldierly in appearance, bearing or habit. In
our first year at the Academy, he rolled up one hundred and
ninety (190) demerits. Two hundred would have caused his
dismissal. The bulk of his demerits were received for being late
at, and absence from, roll-call, for inattention at drill, for un-
tidiness in dress, and offences of such character.
" By his class-mates he was sometimes addressed as ' Jimmy,'
at others as ' Curly,' this last because of the tendency of his hair
to curl. His wonderful talent as an artist had early development
and recognition. In his intercourse with his fellow cadets, he was
agreeable and companionable. At that time he gave no indi-
cation of possessing traits of character that in later life produced
so many antagonisms. After he left the Academy, I never had
the pleasure of meeting Jimmy Whistler, but I fully shared|the
pride of all his class-mates, that one of their number had attained
such world-wide fame in his chosen profession."
General C. B. Comstock, who graduated at the head of
Whistler's class, writes more in detail :
" We entered West Point together in 1851, and as I try to
recall him, the memories that present themselves are of a vivacious
likable little fellow, with a near-sighted habit of contracting hia
310
APPENDIX
brows and eyes when he looked at anything ; with a fondness for
cooking, things in his quarters ; and with a great love for drawing.
" In those days cadets had the custom of taking potatoes from
the mess hall to their rooms, cooking them over the gaslight and
calling the result hash. Whistler was an adept at this and some
other forms of cooking, all of which were prohibited. He was
constantly making sketches with pen or pencil, which were given
to his class-mates, who prized them highly for their beauty, and
who often asked them of him. His ways differed somewhat from
ours, and we attributed this to his residence abroad. We used
to call him ' Jimmie ' or ' Jimmie Whistler.'
" Drawing seemed to be a passion with him. One of the
Academic Board told me later, that at his examination they
used to pass round Whistler's text-books with great interest,
finding their margins illustrated with sketches of all kinds —
sometimes with caricatures of themselves. He had a high stand-
ing in drawing and in French, but I think he cared little for
mathematics, which was prominent in the course at West Point.
He was not very observant of rules and regulations, and if I
recall it aright, sometimes got into trouble in consequence.
" There was at West Point a small shop called ' Joe's,' where
cadets were allowed to buy cakes, &c., if they had money to do
so. I think Whistler used to visit ' Joe's ' pretty often.
" There was another place, called ' Benny Haven's,' about a
mile below the Point, where one could get a supper and stronger
drinks than ' Joe ' was allowed to furnish. Visits to ' Benny
Haven's ' were usually at night after ' taps,' and if detected
were severely punished.
" I cannot clearly recollect the fact, but have the impression
that Whistler used to go there.
" There were on the Point two maiden ladies who were allowed
to give meals (to a few cadets) that were better than those supplied
at the mess hall. I think both Whistler and his room-mate,
Francis L. Vinton, of our class (later Professor of Mining and
Fjigineering at Columbia College, and now dead), at one time
took their meals at the old ' maids' ' as we called them. Whistler's
taste for delicate food would naturally take him there in case
of a vacancy."
General Henry L. Abbot sends us a few lines :
" Whistler was a member of the class following mine, but I
APPENDIX
remember him well. His forte did not lie in military or studious
lines, but his genius in drawing and painting was appreciated
throughout the corps. I remember a water-colour sketch
showing the faces of the fat boy in Pickwick and the old lady
when he told her he had seen Mr. Tupman kissing her daughter.
It was a mere half-finished sketch, but so wonderfully expressive
that it was a masterpiece."
General Oliver Otis Howard remembers Whistler
" in the next class to mine, that which entered in 1851. My
recollections of him are rather dim, though I met him on and off
duty for nearly two years of his academic life. It was said of him
by his class-mates that he paid more attention to reading library
books than to his studies proper, and that being so absorbed in
reading and sketching, he was somewhat careless of his military
standing.
" The demerit marks would not indicate any moral obliquity
as they are given for ' lates,' ' absences,' and small deviations
from the strict regulations of the Academy. The number of
demerit marks would run up rapidly where a young man failed
to write excuses for, say, ' clothing out of order,' ' room not in
proper police,' and the like."
General G. W. C. Lee, also in the class before Whistler,
also retains memories still fresh :
" We were cadets together at the U.S. Military Academy,
West Point, N.Y., for three years (1851-1854), and during the
session of 1852-1853 our rooms in barracks were not far apart.
For this circumstance I am indebted to a better acquaintance
with him than I should otherwise have had, as the cadets of one
class had usually but little to do with those of another.
" Cadet Whistler was an original genius and consequently
entertaining, and was much liked by those who knew him. He
did not, I think, take much interest in the several departments of
instruction, with the exception, perhaps, of that of drawing in
which he easily stood first. He was in the habit of making
pen-and-ink sketches of whatever struck his fancy : and he made
them with great facility — apparently without effort. His class-
mates thought that his drawings showed a great deal of talent,
and, doubtless, his instructors in drawing were of the same
312
APPENDIX
opinion. After he left West Point in the summer of 1854,
I met Whistler in Washington City, and had a short conversa-
tion with him about his affairs and prospects, but never saw him
afterwards, as I left the city about that time, and did not return
until about four years afterwards."
313
OBIGINAL SKETCH BY WHISTLEB FROM HARMONY IN
BLUE AND GOLD
INDEX
ABBEY, i. 192 ; ii. 132, 151, 296, 302
Abbey, Mrs., i. 192 ; ii. 302
Abbot, Gen. H. L., i. 35; ii. 311
Abbott, Jas., i. 2
Academie Carmen, ii. 224, 228-46
Academic Royale des Beaux Arts, ii. 266
Academy, i. 291
Adam and Eve, Old Chelsea, i. 215, 280
Addams, ii. 206, 239, 281, 289
Addams, Mrs. (Miss Bate), ii. 204, 206,
224, 229, 230, 232, 237, 273, 289
" Atoemarle," ii. 87, 134
Alderney Street, i. 307
Alexander, Cicely (Mrs. Spring-Bice),
i. 139, 173, 175
Portrait of (grey and green), i. 74,
103, 125, 150, 171, 172, 175, 181,
202, 274, 297 ; ii. 116, 276
Alexander, John W., ii. 21, 151
Alexander, May, Portrait of, i. 175
Alexander, W. C., i. 156, 172, 175, 204,
216, 219 ; ii. 34, 120, 225
Alexander, Mrs. W. C., i. 172, 175
Alexandre, Ars&ne, ii. 141, 150
Allingham, i. 171 ; ii. 259, 260
Alma-Tadema, i. 81, 99, 121, 210 ; ii. 49,
51, 302
Aman-Jean, ii. 137, 150, 221
Amiricaine, L', i. 217, 218, 228, 297
Etching, 215. See Franklin
"American Architect and Building
News," i. 219
American Artists, Society of, ii. 297
Amsterdam Exhibition, ii. 89
Amsterdam from the Tolhuis, i. 103
Amsterdam Rijks Museum, ii. 88, 281
Andalouse, L' (see Mrs. C. Whibley),
ii. 158, 251
Annabel Lee, ii. 89
Ararat, Mount, i. 256, 259
Armitage, Mrs., ii. 226
Armstrong, Thomas, i. 50, 51, 52, 68,
78, 84, 85, 232, 233, 243 ; ii. 54
Armstrong, Sir W., ii. 258
Art and Art Critics, i. 38, 247, 248, 249 ;
ii. 42, 108
Art Institute, Chicago, ii. 92
" Art Journal," i. 145, 166; ii. 27, 35,
54, 261
"Art Notes," i. 216
"Artiste, L\" i. 130
Astor, ii. 98
Astruc, i. 70
Portrait of, i. 82
"Athenaeum," i. 83, 96, 97, 127, 129,
144, 199, 212, 215, 218, 312 ; ii. 100,
199
Aubert, i. 53
Avery, i. 132, 140, 299 ; ii. 6
Axenfeld, i. 70
Portrait of, 91
BACKER, i. 168, 262, 264, 266, 267, 269,
277, 282, 284, 288, 294 ; ii. 21
Baertson, ii. 224
Balcony, By the, ii. 168
Balcony, The, i. 156, 121, 122 ; ii. 83,
90
Balestier, Wolcott, ii. 99
Balleroy, De, i. 131
Baltimore, i. 1, 37, 39, 40
Banks, Eldon, ii. 188, 191
"Baronet and the Butterfly, The," ii. 197,
198, 199, 224
Barr, Miss, Portrait of, ii. 170
Barrie, ii. 91
Barrington, Mrs., i. 50
Barthe, i. 108
Bastien-Lepage, ii. 31, 219
Battersea (Symphony), ii. 226
Batter sea Bridge, i. 126
Battersea Bridge, Old, i. 140, 287
(Blue and Silver, later Blue and
Gold), i. 159, 160, 212, 228, 234,
236, 239, 240 ; ii. 59
(Brown and Silver), i. 129; ii. 124
Baudelaire, i. 66, 98, 116, 131, 144
Bauer, ii. 222
Bavarian Royal Academy, ii. 88
Bayliss, Wyke, ii. 48, 70-73
Beardsley, ii. 137, 139-41, 184, 222
Beam, Comtesse de, Portrait of. i. 74
Beaux, Cecilia, ii. 221
315
INDEX
Beck, ii. 131
Becquet, i. 54, 70 ; ii. 213
Portrait of, i. 101
Beggars, The, i. 282, 284 ; ii. 84
Belfont, ii. 134, 135, 142, 159
Benedictine Monks, i. 29
Benedite, i. 68, 76
Benham, Capt., i. 41, 43, 44, 46
Benham, Major H. H., i. 46
Berners Street Gallery, i. 97, 129, 157
Bernhardt, Sarah, i. 260
Besnard, ii. 222
Beurdeley, Maitre, ii. 104, 196
Bibi Lalouette, i. 55, 57, 70, 72
Bierstadt, i. 140
Bigham, ii. 188-90
Billingsgate, i. 152, 257 ; ii. 81
Blaas, i. 267
Black, Col., ii. 308
Black Lion Wharf, i. 84, 92, 93, 97, 280,
281 ; ii. 168
Blackburn, ii. 98
Blaikie, ii. 259
Blanche, i. 202 ; ii. 221
Blind, Mr. and Mrs., i. 115
Blomfield, ii. 98
Blott, i. 225, 226
Blouet, ii. 23
Blue and Gold, ii. 59, 63
Blue Girl, i. 258. See Elinor Leland;
also Waller
Blue Wave, The, i. 96, 133, 312; ii.
124, 127
Blum, i. 267, 270
Boehm, i. 212, 251, 260
Boisbaudran, i. 49, 66
Boldini, ii. 150, 193, 195, 221
Bonnat, i. 314 ; ii. 51
Bonvin, i. 75, 82
"Book of the Artists," i. 140
"Book of Scoundrels," ii. 183
Boot, Miss, i. 90
Boston Memorial Exhibition, i. 28
Boston Museum of Fine Arts, ii. 298
Boucher's Diana, copy of, i. 73
Boughton, i. 80, 83, 159, 190, 206, 213
Bouguereau, i. 314 ; ii. 51
Bourgeois, ii. 116
Bowen, i. 232, 240, 241
Boxall, Sir Wm., i. 24, 25, 76, 158
Bracquemond, i. 68, 102, 115, 116, 131,
307
Breck, Adjt.-Gen., i. 43
Bridge, The, i. 281, 282
"British Architect," i. 292
British Artists' Exhibition, i. 287 ; ii. 56,
57,68
British Artists, the, ii. 33, 43, 47-74,
77, 218
316
British Museum, i. 104, 154
"Broad Bridge, The," i. 216
Bronson, Mrs., i. 266, 267, 273, 277
Bronson, Miss E., i. 263, 266
Brooklyn Museum, i. 176
Brooks, i. 265, 266, 268, 288
Brown, Ernest G., i. 257, 291 ; ii. 204
Brown, Prof. Fred., ii. 183
Brown, Madox, i. 115, 158
Brownell, i. 250, 314
Browning, Barrett, i. 265
Browning, Robert, i. 267, 273
Bruckmann, Dr., ii. 287
Brunei, i. 107
Bunney, i. 267
Burckhardt, Count, i. 99, 100
Burgomaster Six, The, i. 281
Burlington Fine Arts Club, i. 143
Burne-Jones, i. 112, 153, 163, 203, 210,
211, 233, 239, 242, 244, 245, 291
ii. 13, 51, 59
Burne-Jones, Lady, i. 232, 239
Burr, John, ii. 57, 66
Burton, i. 243 ; ii. 260
Burton, Lady, ii. 260
Burty, i. 141, 144
Butler, i. 269
Butterfly, The, i. 125, 126, 164, 171,
179, 247, 310, 311; ii. 66, 106,
259
Company of, ii. 199, 200, 201, 252
Buysse, ii. 225
CABANEL, i. 314
Cambridge University Art Society, ii. 43
Campbell, Lady Archibald, i. 191, 222,
304-6 ; ii. 24, 28, 88, 90
Portrait of, see Yellow Buskin
Campbell, Lady Colin, i. 191
Portrait of (Ivory and White), ii.
63
Canaletto, i. 145, 263 ; ii. 21, 178, 179,
287
Canfield, i. 228, 272 ; ii. 266, 292, 297,
298
Portrait of, ii. 279
Caravaggio, ii. 179
Carlisle, i. 113
Carlyle, i. 103, 170, 171, 174, 234;
ii. 36, 116, 259, 260, 314
Portrait of (Black and Grey, No.
2), i. 74, 125, 138, 172, 212, 226,
234, 238, 250, 313, 315; ii. 3,
93, 114, 118, 120, 131
Carmen, ii. 207
Carmen Rossi, Madame, ii. 203, 228,
230, 239
Carnegie Institute, Pittsburg, ii. 298
INDEX
Carrtere, ii. 222 '
Carte, Mrs. D'Oyly, i. 220 ; ii. 36-38
Cassatt, Mrs., Portrait of, ii. 57
Cauldwell, ii. 251
Cauty, H. H., ii. 48
Cazin, i. 102
"Century Magazine," ii. 1, 21
Champtieury, i. 31
Chapman, i. 156
Chapman, Miss Emily, i. 67, 95, 112,
138
Chase, William, ii. 30, 31, 32, 224
Portrait of, ii. 29
Chelsea in Ice (Harmony in Grey), ii. 64
Chelsea Mags, ii. 86, 224
Chelsea Reach (Harmony in Grey), i. 199
Cheyne Walk, houses in, i. 37, 118;
ii. 11, 93, 94, 123, 277, 288
Chicago Exhibition, ii. 130
Childs, F. L. T., i. 36 ; ii. 308
Christie, i. 108
Church, i. 140
Claghorn Collection, the, i. 299; ii. 2
Claretie, Jules, i. 130
Clarke, Sir Edward, ii. 188-91
Claude, i. 145 ; ii. 177
Glaus, ii. 225
Clausen, George, ii. 73
Coast of Brittany, The, i. 94, 96, 133,
312
Coast Survey, Nos. I. and II., i. 45, 46,
72, 86, 280
Cole, Alan S., i. 24, 150, 189, 191, 197,
199, 201, 202, 203, 205, 209, 210,
227, 228, 257, 292, 296, 300, 302,
303, 309; ii. 16, 34, 56, 77, 94, 117,
204
Cole, Mrs. A. S., ii. 77
Cole, Sir Henry, i. 47, 150, 302, 307
Portrait of, i. 200
Cole, Timothy, ii. 176, 177, 224, 252
Cole, Vicat, i. 159
Collingwood, i. 230
Colnaghi, Messrs., i. 73
Colvin, Sidney, i. 182 ; ii. 43, 190
Comstock, Gen. C. B., i. 35 ; ii. 310
Conway, Dr. Moncure, i. 142 ; ii. 43
Cooper, i. 97
Coquelin Aine, ii. 1 1
Corder, Miss Rosa, i. 214
Portrait of (Arrangement in Black
and Brown), i. 201, 202, 227, 248,
249, 296 ; ii. 3, 93, 116, 221, 292
Cordier, i. 131
Coronio, Mrs., i. 79
Cottet, ii. 224
Courbet, i. 49, 69, 74, 75, 79, 88, 89,
94, 95, 96, 133, 134, 145, 146, 162,
179, 180, 801 ; ii. 51, 52, 273
Courbet on the Shore, i. 134
" Court and Society Review," ii. 25
Couture, i. 48 ; ii. 50
Cowan, J. J., i. 287
Portrait of (Grey Man), ii. 156, 170
Crabb, Capt., i. 189
Crackenthorpe, Hubert, ii. 87
Crane, Walter, i. 210, 239 ; ii. 73
Creditor, The (see Gold Seat), i. 259
Cremorne Gardens, i. 258
Cripuscule (Flesh Colour and Green),
i. 122, 139 ;<$
Critique d'Avant Garde, i. 301
Crockett, S. R., ii. 170
Portrait of (Grey Man), ii. 170, 171
" Chronique des Beaux Arts," ii. 125
Cuckoo, the, i. 295
Curtis, Ralph, i. 267, 268, 271, 272;
ii. 35
Cust, Henry, ii. 98
"Daily Chronicle," ii. 168, 194
"Daily Mail," ii. 131
"Daily News," i. 232, 312 ; ii. 42
"Daily Telegraph," i. 83; ii. 37, 42
Dalou, i. 185
Dalziel Brothers, i. 99
Dam Wood, The, i. 176
Dance House, The, i. 72 ; ii. 83
Dannat, ii. 65
Daughter of Eve, A, ii. 291
Davis, Edmund, i. 82, 144 ; ii. 226
Davis, Jeffreson, i. 40, 41
Davis, Miss, i. 39
Day, Lewis F., ii. 38
"Day with Whistler, A," ii. 6
Degas, i. 49, 75 ; ii. 32, 51, 221
Delacroix, i. 131
Hommage a, i. 130, 131
Delannoy, Ernest, i. 54, 59-64, 71, 78
Delatre, i. 71, 76, 86, 116
Deschamps, Charles, i. 157, 259
Design for a Mosaic (Gold Girl), i. 150
Desnoyers, Fernand, i. 103
Desoye, Mme., i. 116
Dicey, i. 191
Dicksee, Frank, i. 159
Dillens, ii. 224
Disraeli, i. 227
Dowdeswell, C. W., i. 302
Dowdeswell, Messrs., i. 259, 297, 312 ;
ii. 1, 60, 130
Dowdeswell, Walter, i. 188 ; ii. 27, 60,
67, 115, 243
Dresden Museum, i. 155
Drouet, i. 54, 56, 71, 73-75, 92, 95;
ii. 151, 213
Portrait of, 70, 72, 92
317
INDEX
Du Maurier, G., i. 49-51, 78, 79, 84, 85,
"*233; ii. 54, 154, 160, 161, 162
Dublin Art Gallery, i. 185
Dublin Sketching Club Exhibition, ii. 35
Dubois, ii. 224
Duchfitel, ii. 135
Dudley Gallery, i. 199, 157
Dunn, Henry Treffy, i. 113, 117
Dunthorne's Gallery, ii. 85, 107
Duran, Carolus, i. 68, 274 ; ii. 137, 252
Durand-Ruel, i. 157
Duranty, i. 131, 223, 248
Durer, i. 279
Duret, Theodore, i. 1, 30, 36, 37, 49,
69, 88, 140, 200, 218, 265, 278,
301, 308, 313 ; ii. 3, 15, 24, 83,
116, 134, 151, 153, 236, 300, 301,
302
Portrait of (Flesh Colour and
Black), i. 125, 308
Dutchman holding the Glass, The, i. 71
Duveneck, Frank, i. 262, 264, 266, 267,
269, 295, 296
EAST, ii. 47, 302
Eaton, F., ii. 131
"Echo," i. 312
Eddy, E. J., i. 5, 146; ii. 201
Portrait of, ii. 156
Eden case, ii. 163, 164, 165, 183, 193-
201
Eden, Sir W., ii. 154, 164, 165, 196
Eden, Lady, Portrait of (Brown and
Gold), ii. 158, 196
Edinburgh Exhibition, ii. 88
Edwards, i. 93
Edwards, Mrs., i. 93, 253
Effie Deans, i. 201 ; ii. 88, 89, 281
Egg, i. 97
Eldon, i. 189, 302, 303
Ellis, i. 244
Eloise, i. 56
Elwell, ii. 258
Portrait of, ii. 204
Embroidered Curtain, The, ii. 83
En Plein Soleil, i. 71
Encamping, i. 93, 141
Encampment, An, i. 32
"English Etchings," ii. 81
Erskine, The Hon. Stuart, ii. 86
"Etching and Etchers," i. 151, 152
Etchings from Nature, Two, i. 76
Evans, ii. 48
FAGAN, ii. 212
Fatting Rocket (Nocturne in Black and
Gold), i. 199, 211, 213, 228, 234, 235,
237-39, 240, 241, 244 ; ii. 4, 127
318
Fan, Study for a, ii. 226
Fan, The (Bed and Black), ii. 158
Fantin-Latour, i. 49, 53, 54, 61, 68-70,
73,75-77,81,88-90,93,96, 102, 116,
121, 130, 131, 132, 146, 147, 163, 168,
169, 184, 185, 221, 263, 264, 307 ;
ii. 51, 158, 261
Farquharson, ii. 217
"Figaro," i. 247, 258
Fine Art Society, i. 102, 154, 158, 215,
244, 248, 257, 259, 263, 289,
291-93, 296, 310 ; ii. 43, 136,
294
Catalogue of Etchings, ii. 108
Fire Wheel, The, i. 228
"First Sermon, The," i. 99
Fish Shop, The — Busy Chelsea, ii. 64,
86
Flesh Colour and Grey, i. 313
Fletcher, ii. 273
Flower, i. 189, 259
Forain, ii. 221
Forbes, Archibald, ii. 35
Forbes, Staats, ii. 93
Ford, Sheridan, ii. 96, 100, 101, 103-
105, 107, 161
Forge, The, i. 94, 101
"Fors Clavigera," i. 213, 233
"Fortnightly Review," i. 112; ii. 44
Foster, John, i. 79
"Four Masters of Etching," i. 249
Fragiacomo, ii. 221
Franklin, Miss Maud, i. 177, 189, 218,
261, 266, 273, 294, 301 ; ii. 24,
76
Etching, 215
Portrait of (Arrangement in White
and Black, No. 1), i. 217, 218,
228, 297
Frederick, Harold, ii. 187
Free Trade Wharf, i. 215
Freer, i. 89, 148, 177, 196, 259 ; ii. 81,
89, 127, 279-81, 297, 299, 300-2
French Artists, Society of, i. 157, 199
French Gallery, the, i. 139, 157
French International Exhibition, i. 140,
167
French Set of Etchings, the, i. 61, 71,
85, 280
Freshfield, i. 184
Frith, i. 81, 97, 240
Fulleylove, ii. 145, 146
Fulleylove, Mrs., ii. 146
Fumette, i. 56, 69, 71, 286
"Funny Folks," i. 312
Fur Jacket, The (Black and Brown,
Brown, Amber and Black), i. 103, 201,
211, 234, 301 ; ii. 89
Furse, ii. 98, 217
INDEX
GALSWORTHY, Mrs., i. 189
Gandara, ii. 224
Garden, The, i. 282 ; ii. 99
Gardens, The (Cremorne), ii. 64
Gardner, Mrs. J., i. 134 ; ii. 129
Gautier, i. 144
Gay, ii. 150, 151, 153
"Gazette des Beaux Arts," i. 1, 76, 103,
130, 141, 144, 223, 248, 307; ii. 53
Gee, i. 189
"Gentle Art of Making Enemies, The,"
i. 120, 126, 145, 151, 167, 181, 186,
190, 232, 245, 246, 248, 296, 311;
ii. 9, 15, 16, 28, 29, 43, 45, 72, 92,
96, 99, 100-13, 125, 126, 161, 197,
199, 280
Gerome, ii. 51
Gilbert, ii. 89, 115, 190, 217
Gilchrist, Miss Connie, Portrait (Gold
Girl), i. 201, 202, 218, 248, 259 ; ii.
23
Gilder, ii. 1
Giudecca (Nocturne), i. 288
Glasgow Corporation, ii. 118
Glasgow Exhibition, ii. 92
Glasgow Institute of Fine Arts, ii. 92,
114
Glasgow University, ii. 295
Gleyre. i. 48, 49, 53, 66 ; ii. 50, 242
Godwin, E. W., i. 94, 219, 224, 258,
292 • ii 75 112
Godwin, E. (junior), i. 126 ; ii. 198, 302
Godwin, Mrs. Beatrix (later Mrs. J.
McN. Whistler), ii. 75, 76, 77, 78,
112, 133, 138, 139, 142, 144, 146,
148, 150, 153, 176
Death of, ii. 78, 172
Portrait of (Bed Lamplight), ii. 26,
63
Gold Scab, The, i. 256, 259
Gold Screen, The, i. 121, 122, 129
Goldschmidt, ii. 3
Goncourt, Edmond de, ii. 94
Goncourts, the de, i. 116
" Good Words," i. 99
Gosse, Edmund, i. 186
Goulding, Frederick, i. 92, 154, 282,
289, 291 ; ii. 190
Goupil Gallery, i. 90, 259; ii. 68, 116-
118, 122
Catalogue of Exhibition, ii. 108
Exhibition, i. 201
Grafton Gallery, ii. 136
Graham, Kenneth, ii. 98
Graham, William, i. 212, 234, 267, 269 ;
ii. 59
Grain, Corney, ii. 22, 23
Grand, Mrs. Sarah, ii. 256
Grande Place, Brussels, ii. 92
Grasset, ii. 224
Graves, Algernon, i. 200, 214, 226-28,
232, 238, 242, 251, 296, 297
Gravesande, Van s', ii. 281
Gray, ii. 249, 251
Great Sea, The (Green and Silver), ii.
225
Greaves, Albert, ii. 178
Greaves, Walter and Harry, i. 88, 106-
108, 126, 137, 138, 154, 164, 165,
168, 171, 175, 176, 179, 185, 188, 204
Green and Violet, ii. 57, 58, 187
Greenaway, Kate, i. 230
Gregg, i. 35 ; ii. 310
Greiffenhagen, ii. 217
Gretchen at Heidelberg, i. 62
Grey and Gold, i. 167
Grey Lady, The, i. 305, 306 ; ii. 92
Grist, i. 267
Grolier Club, i. 280
Exhibition, ii. 194
Grossmith, i. 79
Grosvenor Gallery, i. 210, 211, 217, 297,
309, 312 ; ii. 44, 55
"Grosvenor Notes," i. 218
Guardi, i. 145, 263 ; ii. 178, 179
Guthrie, ii. 114, 151, 217, 221, 224, 295,
302
HAANEN, Van, i. 261, 267, 269
Haden, Annie, i. 82
Drypoint, i. 91
Etching, i. 71
Haden, Lady, i. 2, 7, 11, 22, 23, 76, 90,
208 ; ii. 5, 163 ^
Haden, Seymour, i. 22, 23, 24, 62, 71,
76, 77, 78, 79, 82, 85, 89, 90, 104, 105,
141, 142, 143, 279, 289, 296, 298;
ii. 5, 91, 183, 184
Hague, The, Exhibition, i. 104
Halkett, i. 313, 314, 315; ii. 114
Halle, i. 211
Hals, Franz, ii. 284, 285
Hamerton, i. 102, 106, 145, 151, 152,
153, 169, 248 ; ii. 27, 108
Hamilton, Dr., i. 296
Hamilton, J. McLure, ii. 100, 101, 221
Hammond, i. 28
Hannay, Portrait of, ii. 172
Hare, i. 256
Harland, ii. 99, 140
Harpers', ii. 161
Harpignies, ii. 102, 225
Harris, ii. 186
Harrison, Alex., ii. 151, 152, 252
Harrison, R. H. C., ii. 59
Harry, ii. 94, 104
Hartley Institution, Southampton,
i. 198 /
319
INDEX
"Hawk," ii. 112
Hawkins, ii. 91
Haxton, ii. 99
Head of Old Man Smoking, i. 74
Hecker, i. 90
Heinemann, E., ii. 180, 181
Heinemann, W., i. 196, 220 ; ii. 99, 106,
173, 179, 180, 187, 194, 196, 197, 200,
207, 208, 212, 214, 247, 248, 265, 269,
281, 289, 294, 299, 301, 302
Heinemann, Mrs., Portrait of, ii. 291
Helleu, ii. 150, 187
Henley, ii. 95, 96, 97, 98, 166, 183, 247,
300
Herbert, ii. 49
Herkomer, i. 159 ; ii. 186
Heseltine, i. 245
Hill, ii. 48
Hiroshige, i. 161, 162, 274
"History of Modern Illustration,"
i. 100
Hogarth, i. 21, 145 ; ii. 21, 22, 179
Hogg, ii. 36
Hokusai, i. 116
Holden, i. 38
Holdgate, i. 227
Hole, i. 315
Holker, i. 232, 235, 236, 237, 238, 243,
246
Hollar, i. 279
HoUoway, ii. 172, 187, 188
Holmes, G. A., i. 198 ; ii. 35, 57, 69
Holmes, Sir R. R., i. 154, 155
Hommage d la Veritt (see Fantin), i. 130,
131
Horniman, ii. 29
Horsley, i. 130 ; ii. 57
Houghton, i. 81, 191
Hour in the Life of a Cadet, An, i. 32
"Hour," i. 180, 181
Howard, F., ii. 216, 217
Howard, Gen. 0., i. 35 ; ii. 312
Howell, i. 109, 112, 113, 114, 115, 117,
191, 192, 195, 200, 214, 225, 226, 227,
228, 255, 259, 264, 296, 300, 309, 310 ;
ii. 260
Howells, ii. 151
Hubbard, ii. 296
Huddleston, i. 232, 238
Huish, i. 244
Hulton, i. 88
Hungerford, i. 304
Hungerford Bridge, etching, i. 101
Hunt, Holman, i. 81, 85, 121, 210;
ii. 39, 50, 51, 59, 73
Huth, Mr., i. 117, 156, 191
Huth, Mrs., i. 179, 301
Portrait of, i. 178, 179 ; ii. 56
Huysmans, i. 301
320
ILLUSTRATORS, Society of, ii. 184
"Inconsequences," i. 151, 152
" Independence Edge," ii. 104
Ingram, Ayerst, ii. 47, 48, 57, 61, 67-70
Ingres, i. 73, 146
International Society, ii. 75, 199, 216-
227
Exhibitions, ii. 157, 204, 206, 221,
223, 225, 226
lonides, i. 118, 156
Aleco, i. 50, 51, 78, 79, 211
Alexander, i. 78, 124, 153, 154
Helen (Mrs. William Whistler), i.
211
Luke, i. 51, 52, 56, 58, 59, 61, 69,
78,79,84,85,133,187, 211 ;
ii. 120, 127, 260, 289, 293
Portrait of, i. 89
Iris (see Miss Kinsella), ii. 275
Irving, i. 199, 213, 297
Portrait of (Arrangement in Black),
i. 103, 199, 211, 212, 215, 228,
234, 249, 297, 308 ; ii. 93
Isle de la Cite, i. 83, 286
Israels, ii. 89, 225, 281
Ivan-Muller, ii. 98
Ives, ii. 132, 296
JACOMB-HOOD, G. P., i. 259 ; ii. 48, 141
Jacquemart, i. 116
James, ii. 10, 70, 93, 99
Jameson, i. 147, 148, 156
Jarvis, i. 259
Jekyll, i. 203, 207
Jeune, Lady, ii. 43
Jobbins, i. 267, 277, 288
" Joe " (Mrs. Joanna Abbott), i. 88, 89,
94, 115, 127, 134, 184
Portrait of, i. 94, 215
Johnston, Humphreys, ii. 151
Jongkind, i. 102
Jopling-Rowe, ii. 76
Josey, i. 226
Joyant, ii. 119
KEENE, i. 81, 230, 231 ; ii. 63, 71
Kelly, ii. 98
Kennedy, David, ii. 293
Kennedy, E. G., i. 46, 196 ; ii. 172-76,
193-96, 301
Kensington Gardens, ii. 168
Keppel, i. 46, 154, 298 ; ii. 4, 6
Kerr-Lawson, ii. 209
Key, i. 45, 46
Khnopff, ii. 221
King, Yeend, ii. 46
Kinsella, Miss, Portrait of (Rose and
Green), ii. 157, 187, 279
INDEX
Kipling, ii. 97
Kipling, Mrs., ii. 99
Kitchen, The, i. 62, 71, 281
Klinger, ii. 221
Klint, ii. 221
Kobbe, i. 31, 43
Koepping, ii. 221
Kroyer, ii. 224
LABOUCHERE, i. 42 ; ii. 23, 75
Lagoon, The, i. 281
Lagrange, i. 130
Lam art i no, i. 17
Lambert, i. 55, 58
Lament, i. 50, 51, 53, 57
Landor, Savage, ii. 180
Landseer, i. 130
Lang, i. 189
Langdon, Gen., i. 2, 34-36 ; ii. 305
Lange Leizen, i. 121, 127 ; ii. 127
Langtry, Mrs., Portrait of, i. 303
Lannion, ii. 148
Lanteri, i. 185 ; ii. 10, 278
Lamed, Col., i. 30, 32, 33
Laurens, i. 102 ; ii. 51
Lautrec, ii. 221
Laveille, i. 116
Lavery, ii. 117, 151, 216, 217, 221, 224,
289, 300-2
Law, ii. 48
Lawless, ii. 10
Lawson, ii. 81, 302
Leathart, i. 156 ; ii. 127
Lee, Gen., i. 35 ; ii. 312
"Legendary Ballads," i. 100
Legion of Honour, ii. 88
Legros, i. 53, 54, 68, 75-78, 81, 84,
85, 88, 102, 103, 118, 131, 142, 296;
ii. 224
Leighton, i. 50, 121, 159, 243, 261 ; ii. 20,
22, 44, 50, 51, 54, 67, 130, 167
Lenoir, Miss, ii. 37
Lepere, ii. 222
Leslie, i. 130 ; ii. 49
Lewis, Arthur, i. 79
Lewis, Sir G., i. 255 ; ii. 103-5, 188
Leyland, i. 125, 138, 146, 156, 166, 167,
175, 187, 188, 203-5, 208, 209,
225, 239, 255, 256, 307 ; ii. 127
Portrait of, i. 176, 177
Leyland, Mrs., i. 166, 171, 175-79, 188,
189, 211, 219, 234, 301
Portraits of, i. 177, 179
Leyland, Elinor, Portrait of (Blue Oirl),
i. 176, 258
Leyland, Florence, Portrait of, i. 176
Liberty, i. 117
Liebermann, ii. 221
Light at the Door, The, i. 28
Littie in our Attey, ii. 205, 207, 224
Linde, i. 217
Lindenkohl, i. 43, 44
Lindsay, i. 200-12, 233; ii. 89
Lindsey Bow, houses in, i. 106, 121,
137, 224
Lin ton, ii. 184
Lithography case, ii. 186-92
Little Arthur, i. 71
Little Blue Bonnet, ii. 22, 112
Little Cardinal, ii. 293
Little Evelyn, ii. 204
"Little Journeys," ii. 296
Little Pool, The, i. 86
Little Putney, The, i. 215
Little Bed Note, A, ii. 56
Little Rose of Lyme Regis, The, ii. 78,
166, 205, 207, 298
Little Sophie of Soho, ii. 205, 207,
224
Little Venice, ii. 4
Little White Oirl, The (Symphony in
White, No. 2), i. 89, 127-30,
144, 146, 147, 178 ; ii. 127, 166,
251, 261, 262, 280
Verses on, i. 128
Liverdun, i. 62, 71
Livermore, Mrs., i. 1, 9, 14
Liverpool Art Club Exhibition, i. 198
Lobsters, The, i. 256, 269
Logsdail, i. 267
"London Garland," ii. 166
London Memorial Exhibition, i. 28, 45,
73, 90, 94, 101, 148, 150, 155, 177,
258, 280, 287, 303 ; ii. 3, 168, 226,
275
Long, ii. 49
Lorimer, ii. 67
Lowell, i. 1, 2, 8, 37
Lucas, i. 59, 140, 200
Ludovici, ii. 48, 56
Lunois, ii. 221
Luxembourg, ii. 114, 116, 119, 125
Lynden, Van, ii. 88, 89
MACASKIE, ii. 190
MacColl, ii. 137, 183, 192, 295
Maclise, i. 97
MacMonnies, ii. 228, 239-42, 151, 152,
165, 196, 197
Macquay, ii. 22, 23
Maeterlinck, ii. 104
"Magazine of Art," ii. 68, 262
Major's Daughter, The, i. 99, 100
Mallarm6, ii. 134, 141, 161,U63
Portrait of, ii. 134 '
Mancini, ii. 224
x 321
INDEX
Manet, i. 75, 98, 102, 103, 116, 131, 179,
180, 274, 307 ; ii. 51, 221, 261
Mann, Portrait of, i. 91
Mantz, i. 103, 130, 141, 144
Manuel, Master Stephen, ii. 204
Marchande de Moutarde, La, i. 71, 72 ;
ii. 81
Maris, ii. 89, 221
Mark Twain, i. 193
Marks, Murray, i. 116-18, 153, 203,
216, 217
Marks, Stacy, i. 79 ; ii. 49
Marlborough, Duke of, ii. 126
Marmalade, Marquis de, i. 135, 136, 142
Marriott- Watson, ii. 97
Martin, i. 107
Martin, B. E., ii. 1
Martin, Henri, i. 54, 67, 76
Martin, Homer, i. 195
Marty, ii. 135
Marx, ii. 116
Marzetti, Mrs., i. 303, 305, 311
Mason, i. 8
Master Smith, The, ii. 78, 166, 176, 207,
276, 293, 298
Mathew, Justice, ii. 188
Maus, ii. 82
McCarthy, ii. 112
McClure, ii. 221
" McClure's Magazine," ii. 162
McCullough, i. 80, 137, 139, 199
McNeill, Alicia, i. 14
Charles Donald, i. 7
Donald, i. 7
Martha, i. 8
William G., i. 8
Meissonier, i. 261
Melbourne Museum, i. 155
Melchers, ii. 224
Melville, ii. 217
Menard, ii. 224
Menpes, i. 192, 220, 285, 286, 290, 296,
301 ; ii. 19, 20, 28, 35, 37, 57, 62, 70,
71, 112
Menzel, ii. 224
Mire Gerard, La, i. 57, 68, 73, 94
Etching, i. 71, 72
Meredith, G., i. 109-11 ; ii. 46
Merritt, Mrs., i. 165, 297 ; ii. 38
Meryon, i. 279
Mesdag, ii. 89, 281
Metsu, ii. 179
Meux, Lady, i. 301, 302; ii. 116
Portrait of (Flesh Colour and Pink),
i. 301, 308, 309 ; ii. 35
Portrait of (White and Black), i.
301 ; ii. 136
Milcendeau, ii. 151, 224
Miles, Frank, i. 304 ; ii. 11
323
Miles, F. B., i. 39, 48, 54
Millais, i. 77, 81, 85, 159, 210, 293;
ii. 49, 53, 115
Mittbank, i. 281
Mills, i. 89
Mirbeau, ii. 150, 165
Miser, The, i. 281
Mitchell, ii. 302
"Modern Men," ii. 96
"Modern Painting," ii. 100
Moncrieff, Mrs., i. 191, 251
Monet, ii. 68, 221
Montalba, Miss, i. 261
Montesquiou, ii. 94, 95, 150, 153, 297
Portrait of, i. 215 ; ii. 94
Montezuma, i. 58
Montiori, Mrs., i. 189
Moody, i. 205
Moore, Albert, i. 81,145, 189, 195,231,
238, 247; ii. 12, 273
Moore, Augustus, ii. 112
Moore, George, ii. 100, 164, 165, 191,
198
Moore, Henry, i. 198
Morning before the Massacre of St.
Bartholomew, The, i. 99, 106
"Morning Post," i. 205; ii. 280
Morrice, ii. 225
Morris, Phil, i. 171
Morris, W., i. 153, 203, 221 ; ii. 13, 39
Morrison, ii. 98
Morse, i. 224, 309 ; ii. 218
Morse, Mrs., i. 224
Mother, The (Arrangement in Grey and
Black, No. I.) (see Mrs. Whistler), i.
74, 103, 138, 157, 168-71, 179, 226,
227, 297-99, 312 ; ii. 3, 35, 36, 89,
92, 93, 114, 116, 119, 120, 125
Dry-point, i. 215
Moulton, Mrs. i. 27, 28
Muhrman, ii. 221
Munich International Exhibition, ii. 87
Murano Glass Furnace, i. 269
Murger, i. 52, 53, 144
Music Boom, The (Green and Rose),
i. 89, 91, 141 ; ii. 124
"National (Scots) Observer," the, ii. 95-
97
Naval Review Series (Jubilee Series),
i. 155; ii. 67, 68, 82, 223
Neighbours, The (Gold and Orange),
ii. 225
New English Art Club, ii. 92, 183, 218
New Gallery, ii. 131
New York Exhibition, i. 299
"New York Herald," ii. 91
New York Metropolitan Museum, i. 299
INDEX
"New York State Library Bulletin," ii.
162
Nicholson, ii. 194, 200, 221
"Nineteenth Century," i. 249, 310
Nocturne in Blue and Gold, i. 199, 234,
240, 248
Nocturne in Blue and Silver, i. 234
Norman, the Misses, ii. 281
Noseda, Mrs., i. 226
Note Blanche, i. 95
OBAOH, i. 226
"Observer," ii. 58
"Once a Week," i. 99, 100
Orchardson, i. 159; ii. 21, 89, 115
Oulevey, i. 54, 50, 57, 58, 69, 71 ;
ii. 151, 213
Pacific, The, i. 248, 249
"Paddon Papers, The," i. 114,309,310
Painters and Etchers, Society of, i. 295
Palaces, Nocturne, i. 265, 282, 311, 312
Pall Mall, exhibition at, 48, i. 179
" Pall Mall Gazette," i. 180,309; ii. 42,
57, 58, 72, 84, 91, 130, 143, 161, 165
" Pott Matt Pictures," ii. 63, 64
Palmer, i. 9
Palmer, Miss, i. 26, 27, 30
Paris Centenary Exhibition, ii. 166
Paris, International Exhibition, i. 219
Paris, Memorial Exhibition, i. 73, 95,
149, 155 ; ii. 75, 203, 291
Paris Universal Exhibition, ii. 88, 90,
225, 261
Park, i. 27, 28
Park, Miss, i. 27
Parrish, ii. 5, 6
Parry, i. 232, 241, 244
Partridge, ii. 122
" Passages from Modern English Poets,"
i. 97
Pater, ii. 13, 39
Pawling, ii. 172
Peacock Room, the, i. 125, 198-209,
219, 263; ii. 132
Pearsall, ii. 28, 35
Peck, Miss — Portrait of, ii. 157
Pellegrini, i. 196, 290 ; ii. 12, 23
Pennell (J), i. 100 ; ii. 1-6, 85, 95, 98,
134, 137, 163, 167, 168, 173, 186,
189, 191, 221-24, 226, 247, 249,
250, 252, 291, 296, 299, 301
Pennell, Mrs. (E.) ii. 172, 214, 248,
249, 267, 279, 281, 286, 287, 299
300
Pennington, Harper, i. 170, 267, 271,
302; ii. 11, 21-23
Pennsylvania Academy, ii. 163, 297
Peterham, i. 232
Philadelphia Academy, i. 297
Philadelphia Exhibition, i. 299
Philip, Birnie, ii. 264, 265
Portrait of, ii. 204
Philip, Miss Birnie, ii. 174, 179, 212,
226, 252, 257, 258, 266, 269, 276,
277, 279, 280, 288, 291, 299-302
Philip, Mrs. Birnie, ii. 212, 252, 257,
258, 276, 277, 280
Phillip, i. 82
Phillips, ii. 56
Philosopher, The, see Holloway, ii. 172,
221
Phryne the Superb, ii. 205, 226
Piano Picture, The (At the Piano), i. 68,
74, 75, 82, 90, 91, 95, 99, 133, 140 ;
ii. 221
Picard, ii. 104
"Piccadilly," i. 216
Piccadilly (Grey and Gold), ii. 36
"Piker Papers, The," i. 296
Pissarro, ii. 222
Poe, i. 98, 304
Pollitt, Portrait of, ii. 168, 170
Pomfrct, i. 26, 37
Pool, The, i. 101
Poole, ii. 192
Pope, i. 96
" Portfolio, The," i. 152, 242, 248 ; ii. 64,
81
Portrait Painters' Exhibition, ii. 293
Potter, i. 156, 191 ; ii. 127
Potter, Mrs. i. 191
Powerscourt, ii. 35
Poynter, i. 50, 51, 52, 55, 69, 84, 97,
159, 160, 205, 210, 233, 243, 290,
ii. 49, 54
Pretty Nelly Brown, ii. 204
Princesse du Pays de la Porcelaine, La,
i. 121, 122, 124, 130, 157, 203, 204,
207 ; ii. 127, 221
Prinsep, Val, i. 80, 109, 130, 166, 176,
184 ; ii. 44
Probyn, i. 206
"Proposition No. 2," i. 313; ii. 236
" Proposition, A Further," ii. 26, 27,
236
"Propositions," ii. 60, 111
"Punch," i. 246,312
Punt, The, i. 92, 97
Putney Bridge, i. 158, 216, 248
Purple and Gold, i. 122
Purple and Rose, i. 122
Puvia de Chavannes, i. 221 ; ii. 150, 221
QUILTBB, i. 224, 258, 267
323
INDEX
EAB, i. 158
Raffalovitch, ii. 99
Raj on, ii. 26
Raleigh, ii. 98, 295
Ratier, ii. 164
Rawlinson, i. 156, 191, 214, 226
Red House, Paimpol, ii. 148
Bed Note, ii. 68
Bed Bag, ii. Ill
Redesdale, i. 167, 182, 187, 201, 205,
206, 259
Portrait of, i. 201
Begent's Quadrant, ii. 81
Regnault, i. 274
Belief Fund in Lancashire, i. 99, 100
Rembrandt, i. 145, 279; ii. 125
Benaissance Latine, i. 202
Renoir, ii. 221
Renouan, ii. 172, 221
Betameuse, La, i. 71
Reveillon, Mrs., i. 90, 302
Beverence, His, ii. 78, 292
Bhine Journey Sketches, i. 74
Rhodes, ii. 168
Riault, i. 70, 91
Portrait of, i. 91
Ribot, i. 75
Richard, i. 157
Ricketts, ii. 217
Rico, i. 267, 269
Ridley, i. 93, 303
Portrait of, i. 303
Ritchie, Mrs., i. 48, 82, 206
Bivas, i. 283
Robertson, i. 139, 140, 150; ii. 226,
292
Robins, Miss, ii. 183
Robinson, ii. 129
Rodd, i. 34, 62, 192; ii. 11, 129
Rodenbach, ii. 150
Rodin, ii. 137, 150, 158, 224, 226, 241,
278
Rops, ii. 224
Rose, i. 156, 225, 231, 245
Bose and Gold, ii. 187
Bose and Bed, ii. 92
-Rose and Silver, i. 122
Rossetti, D. G., i. 81, 109-18, 137,
138, 142, 143, 145, 153 ; ii. 13, 39,
51, 59, 260, 273
Rossetti, W. M., i. 83, 96, 98, 99, 116-
18, 124, 127, 129, 131, 137, 140, 142,
143, 156, 177, 186, 210, 214, 232,
237, 242., 246 251, 290
Rothenstein, ii, 191, 217
Botherhithe, i. 88, 96
Roussel, i. 135 ; ii. 28, 64, 71, 99
Roussoff, i. 267, 269
Rowley, i. 50, 51
324
Royal Academy, i. 76, 82, 88, 94, 96,
101, 127, 144, 156, 157, 158, 248,
249
Royal Academy, Student's Club, ii. 43
Ruben, i. 269
Rucellai, Countess, i. 263
Ruggles, i. 34
Ruskin, i. 199, 213, 214, 217, 229-32,
237-39, 241-44, 246, 248; ii. 4,
39, 111, 178
Ruskin, Libel Action, i. 1, 119, 229-
45; ii. 108, 192
SACKETT, i. 33
St. Gaudens, ii. 132
St. George, i. 272
St. James's Street, i. 215
St Louis Exhibition, ii. 296
St. Mark's, i. 287 ; ii. 28, 63
St. Petersburg, i. 1, 9
St. Petersburg Academy of Fine Arts,
i. 17
Salaman, ii. 25
Salon, i. 75, 130, 140, 308, 312 ; ,ii. 59,
116, 133, 203, 206, 293
Salon des Refuses, i. 102, 103
Sambourne, i. 246
Sam Welter's Lodging in the Fleet
Prison, i. 28
Sandys, i. 109, 114, 115 ; ii. 207, 217
San Marco, Facade of, i. 272
Sarasate, i. 220
Portrait of, i. 126, 178; ii. 2-4,
8, 56, 57, 63, 116, 194, 298
Sargent, ii. 35, 132, 151, 262, 296
"Saturday Beview," i. 145, 248 ; ii. 27,
185-87, 190-92, 261
Sauter, ii. 216, 217, 221, 225, 226, 276,
282, 289
Sauter, Mrs. ii. 276, 286
Savoy Scaffolding, ii. 37
Sawtelle, ii. 308
Scarf, The, i. 129
Scharfe, i. 313
Scheffer, i. 48, 50 ; ii. 50
Schmitz, i. 62-64
School House on Fire, A, i. 28
Scottish National Portraits Exhibition,
i. 313
" Scotsman," i. 313
Scott, i. 267, 268, 278
Scott, W. B., i. 109
" Scribner's Magazine," i. 250, 298
Sea and Bain, i. 133, 144 ; ii. 127
Seeley and Co. i. 257
Segantini, ii. 221
Seton, Miss, Portrait of (see Daughter
of Eve), ii. 291
INDEX
Severn, i. 79, 116, 244
Shannon, C. H., i. 149; ii. 191, 217,
221, 226
Shannon, J. J., ii. 217
Shaw, i. 203
Shipping — Nocturne, i. 282
Shipping at Liverpool, i. 176
Short, i. 282 ; ii. 250
Sickert, B., i. 199, 280
Sickert, Mrs. B., i. 162, 166
Sickert, W., i. 304; ii. 11, 20, 37, 64,
99, 168, 185, 186, 189-91
Portrait of, ii. 26
Sickert, Mrs. W., ii. 99
Portrait of, I. (Violet and Pink),
ii. 64, 65, II. (Green and Violet),
ii. 158, 166
Siesta, The, ii. 168
Sidaner, ii. 225
Simon, ii. 224
Singleton, Mrs., i. 191
Six Projects, i. 148-50, 165, 179, 258 ;
ii. 26
See Venus and Three Figures
Sketching, i. 97
Smith, Hopkinson, ii. 5
Smalley, ii. 13
Societe Nationale des Beaux Arts,
ii. 116
Solon, i. 116
"Songs on Stone," ii. 87, 159
Sotheby, i. 259
Soupe d Trois Sous, i. 70, 72
Southampton Water, i. 167
South Kensington Museum, ii. 85
South Kensington Museum International
Exhibitions, 197, 157
Sower, i. 79
Spartali, i. 124
Spartali, Christine, i. 122, 124
Portrait of, see Princesse du Pays
de la Porcelaine
"Spectator," i. 242
Speke Hatt, i. 176
Speke Shore, i. 176
"Standard," i. 246; ii. 293, 294
Stansfield, Mrs., i. 189
"Star," ii. 85
Start, i. 185 ; ii. 3, 20, 43, 52, 58, 63,
64, 70, 86, 99, 126, 135, 244, 268
Steevens, ii. 98
Steinlen, ii. 222
Stevens, ii. 31, 50, 63, 71, 150, 224
Stevenson, ii. 96-98, 137, 177
Stewart, Mrs., i. 256
Stillman, i. 142
Stillman, Mrs. (Marie Spartali), i. 122-
24, 179, 206
Stoeckl, i. 43
Stoker, Bram, i. 200
Stone, Marcus, ii. 49
Stonington, i. 8, 24, 25, 37, 47, 72, 73
Storey, i. 189, 191
Story, J.,i. 304; ii. 10, 11, 12
Story, W., i. 304 ; ii. 10, 11, 35
Stott of Oldham, ii. 28, 61
Strahan, i. 99
Strange, ii. 190
Street at Saverne, i. 62, 71, 72
Street, ii. 97
Stuck, ii. 221
Studd, i. 128 ; ii. 127, 289, 302
"Studies of Seven Arts," ii. 214
Sturgis, ii. 192, 302
Sullivan, i. 315 ; ii. 224
Sutherland, i. 205, 255 ; ii. 264
Swan, i. 99
Swan and Iris, ii. 81
Swinburne, i. 73, 99, 109, 111, 112,
115, 128, 129, 169, 230; ii. 44, 45,
280
Symons, i. 194, 256; ii. 214
TATE GALLERY, the, i. 160, 212
Taylor, i. 185, 241, 242, 248; ii. 108
Teck, Prince, i. 205, 292
Temple Bar, i. 286
"Ten o'Clock," the, i. 97, 163, 282; ii.
16, 33-46, 52, 111
Terborg, ii. 179
Ttte de Paysanne, i. 73
Thackeray, i. 82
Thackeray, Miss, i. 24, 48
Thames, The, ii. 169
Thames in Ice, The, i. 89, 90, 96, 140
Thames Set of Etchings, The, i. 82, 84,
86, 98, 153, 154, 280
Thames Warehouses, i. 97
Thaulow, ii. 221
Theobald, ii. 60, 128
Thoma, ii. 221
Thomas, i. 220
Thomas, Brandon, ii. 99, 204
Thomas, Edmund, i. 86, 153
Thomas, Percy, i. 86, 152, 153, 182,
184, 199
Thomas, Ralph, i. 198
Thomas, Sergeant, i. 85
Thompson, i. 117, 216
Catalogue of Blue and White Nankin
Porcelain, i. 216
Thomson, ii. 81, 116-24, 204
Three Figures, Pink and Grey (Three
Oirls), see Six Projects, i. 146, 148,
149, 156, 204; ii. 130
Thynne, Mrs. (Annie Haden), i. 74,
90, 91 ; ii. 302
325
INDEX
"Times," i. 213, 218, 232, 242, 247,
309, 312; ii. 17, 42, 47, 131
Tissot, i. 73, 116, 185, 189
Tite Street, Houses in, i. 300 ; ii. 10,
14, 56, 276
Titian, i. 241, 243, 263 ; ii. 125, 179
Tito, i. 267
Todd, i. 13
" Toilet, The," i. 216
Traer, i. 93, 141
Traghetto, The, i. 280-85 ; ii. 84
" Trilby," ii. 160
Trouville, ii. 224
"Truth," i. 291 ; ii. Ill
Tuckerman, i. 140
Tudor House, i. 113-15
Tulip, The (Rose and Gold), ii. 158, 226
Turner, i. 106 ; ii. 177
Tweed, ii. 278
Twenty Club, Brussels, Exhibition,
ii. 60
Twilight on the Ocean, see Valparaiso,
i. 139, 140
Two Little White Girls (Symphony in
White, No. III.), i. 144, 146, 147,
178, 185 ; ii. 27, 226, 275
Tyre Smith, The, ii. 86
Tyzac, i. 84
UKDEEDOWK, ii. 87
Unsafe Tenement, The, i. 71
Unwin, ii. 171, 184
Unwin, Mrs., ii. 184
VALLOTTON, ii. 221
Valparaiso, i. 139, 258 ; ii. 226
Valparaiso Bay, ii. 64
Van Bartels, ii. 225
Vanderbilt, ii. 302
Portrait of, ii. 203
Vanderbilt, Mrs. — Portrait of (Ivory
and Gold), ii. 203
Van Dyke, ii. 177
" Vanity Fair," i. 215, 217
Van Toroop, ii. 221
Velasquez, i. 145, 189, 222; ii. 61,
125, 177, 210, 221
Velvet Gown, The (see Mrs. Leyland),
i. 177
Venice, i. 261-88
Venice Etchings, i. 72, 155, 281, 290,
291, 310, 312; ii. 60, 136
Venice International Exhibition, ii. 166
Venice Museum, i. 155
Venturi, Mme., i. 170, 188
Venus (see Six Projects), i. 149 ; ii. 26,
138
Vermeer, ii. 179
326
Veronese, i. 263
Victoria and Albert Museum, i. 154
Vieille aux Loques, La, i. 45, 71
Viele-Griffin, ii. 150, 153, 165
Vierge, ii. 222
Vinton, i. 55; ii. 311
Vivian, ii. 16, 86
Vollon, i. 102, 132, 274
Von Uhde, ii. 221
Vuillard, ii. 221
WADDELL AND Co., i. 224
Wagner, i. 98
Walker, i. 81
Waller, Maud, i. 303, 304
Portrait of (Blue Girl), i. 303
Walton, i. 287; ii. 114, 216, 217, 221,
271, 273, 289, 296
Walton, Mrs. ii. 296
Wapping, i. 88, 91, 127, 140
Ward, i. 217
Washington, i. 37, 40
Watts, i. 81, 113, 153, 170, 179, 210;
ii. 49
Watts-Dunton, i. 109, 110, 191, ,216;
ii. 45
Way, i. 108, 140, 149, 208, 215, 216,
255, 258-60, 276, 290, 292; ii. 86,
89, 163, 169, 186, 190, 300
Way, Miss, Portrait of, i. 258
Weary, i. 101
Webb, Gen. A., i. 31, 33 ; ii. 308
Webb, W., i. 187; ii. 144, 145, 225,
262, 279, 292
Webster, i. 30
Wedmore, i. 45, 56, 93, 196, 199, 249,
250, 310, 311; ii. 108, 294
Weir, J. A. i. 31
Weir, R. W. i. 31, 32
Westminster, Marquis of, i. 206
Westminster, The Last of Old, i. 100, 101
Westminster Bridge, Old, i. 101
West Point, i. 1, 2, 30-47 ; ii. 305-12
Wheeler, ii. 309
Whibley, ii. 98, 183, 247, 301
Whibley, Mrs., ii, 133, 166, 174, 223,
880, 288
" Whirlwind," ii. 86, 134
Whistler, Mrs. Anna M. (nee McNeill),
i. 2, 7, 9, 10, 11, 13-23, 25-27, 39,
104, 105, 112, 118, 123, 153, 174,
175, 251
death, i. 294
Anne (nee Bishop), i. 5 ,
Anthony, i. 4
Charles D., i. 8, 11
Daniel, i. 4
Deborah, see Lady Hadcn
Elinor, i. 3
INDEX
Whistler, Francis, i. 4
Gabriel, i. 4
George, i. 7, 25, 30, 39, 47, 73
George Washington, i. 2, 6-13,
22, 23, 24, 41, 73
death, i. 41 ; portrait of, i. 73
Hugh, i. 3
James Abbott McNeill ; birth,
i. 1, 8 ; christening, i. 2 ;
journey to Russia, i. 11 ; early
portraits, i. 14, 47 ; severe
illness, i. 21 ; return to America,
i. 25; West Point, i. 30-39;
Coast Survey, i. 40-47 ; arrival
in Paris, i. 48 ; journey to
Alsace, i. 61 ; London, i. 76 ;
journey to Valparaiso, i. 134 ;
journey to Venice, i. 258 ; joins
British Artists, ii. 47 ; resigns,
ii. 69 ; marriage, ii. 75, 76 ;
journey to Rome, ii. 208 ;
journey to Corsica, ii. 265 ;
death, il. 301
Portraits of himself, i. 71-137;
ii. 158— W. with Hat, i. 73— W.
with the White Lock, i. 80— W.
in his Studio, i. 184 — (Brown
and Gold), ii. 204, 251
Portrait of, by Chase, ii. 30 ; by
Boldini, ii. 193; by Boxall,
i. 24, 25 ; ii. 176 ; by Fantin,
i. 132; by Nicholson, ii. 194;
by Ragon, ii. 26
Bust of, by Boehm, i. 212, 260
" Whistler as I knew him," ii. 20
Whistler, John, i. 3
Lieutenant John, i. 3
Master John, i. 3
Major John, i. 5, 6
Julia (nee Winans), i. 39
Kensington, i. 4
Kirk Booth, i. 8
Margaret, i. 3
Mary (n£e Swift), i. 7
Ralph, i. 4
Rodolphus, i. 3
Rose Fuller, i. 2
Sarah, i, 2
Colonel William, i. 6
Dr. William, i. 8, 9, 39, 104, 118,
132, 133, 211, 295; ii. 76, 82;
death, ii. 214 ; portrait of, i. 133
Whistler, Mrs. William, i. 2, 28, 133,
220 ; ii. 34, 76, 82, 289, 302
White Girl, The (Symphony in White,
No. /.), i. 88, 95-98, 102, 129, 130,
140, 144, 146, 157, 299
White House, the, i. 118, 219-228,
251, 252, 258
Whiteley and Co., i. 84
White Note, A., ii. 92
White, ii. 132
Whittemore, ii. 158
Wilde, Oscar, i. 191, 196, 259, 260, 304 ;
ii. 11, 13-18, 22, 38, 39, 42, 140
Wilkie, ii. 49
Wilkins, ii. 87
Wilkinson, i. 260
Williams, i. 72
Williams, Charlotte — Portrait of, ii.
157
Wills, i. 238
Wilson, ii. 212, 224, 301
Wilstack Collection, i. 306; ii. 298
Wimbush, ii. 198
Winans, Louis, i. 73
Winans, Thomas, i. 39, 40, 47, 88
Windsor Collection, i. 154, 155 ; ii. 85
Wine Glass, The, i. 217
Winged Hat, ii. 86
Wisselingh, ii. 88, 89
Wistler de Westhannye, Joha le, i. 3
Wittsen, ii. 225
Working Women's College, Queen's
Square Exhibition, ii. 92
Wolseley, i. 191 ; Portrait of, 194, 195
Wolseley, Lady, i. 191, 195
Woods, i. 261, 263, 269
" World," i. 215, 246, 291 ; ii. 51, 68,
89, 111
Wortley, ii. 89
Wuerpel, ii. 139, 151
Wyndham, Hon. P., i. 234
Wyndham, Hon. Mrs. P., i. 212, 234
YATES ("Atlas"), i. 291; ii. 89, 110
Yellow Buskin, The, i, 218, 305, 306 ;
ii. 116, 132, 298
Yellow House, Lannion, the, ii. 148, 149
ZAAKDAM, ii. 83
Zola, i. 102 ; ii. 137
Zorn, ii. 221
Printed by BALLANTYNE 4* Co. LIMITED
Tavistock Street, Covent Garden, London
ND Pennell,E.R.andJ.
237 The life of James McNeill
Whistler.
1908
v.2
Live Music Archive
Librivox Free Audio
Metropolitan Museum
Cleveland Museum of Art
Internet Arcade
Console Living Room
Books to Borrow
Open Library
TV News
Understanding 9/11