It will be readily understood that such a beneficial change in her life surroundings as that from Trafalgar Square, Chelsea, to Sandhills, Witley, was not without its effect upon Mrs. Allingham’s Art. Hitherto her work had, by the exigencies of fortune, lain almost wholly and entirely in the direction of the figure. It was studio work, done for the most part under pressure of time, the selection of subject being none of hers, and therefore oftentimes altogether unsympathetic. Finding herself now in the presence of Nature of a kind that appealed to her, and which she could appreciate untrammelled by any conditions, it is not surprising that—unwittingly, no doubt, at first—the preference was given to that side of Art which presented itself under so much more favourable conditions. The delight of painting en plein air had first To most people of an artistic temperament the abandonment of the figure for landscape would never have been the subject of a moment’s consideration, for it would have appeared to them the desertion of a higher for a lower grade of Art. But from the time of her arrival in the country there seems to have never been any doubt in Mrs. Allingham’s mind as to the direction which her Art should take. The pleasure to which we have referred of sitting down in the open air before Nature, whose aspects and moods she could select at her own will, and at her own time, was infinitely preferable to the toil and trouble of either illustrating the ideas of others, or building up scenes, oftentimes The portrayal of her children in heads of a larger size than her usual work was at this time seen by friends and others, who pressed upon her commissions for effigies of their own little ones, a branch of work which promptly drew down upon her the disapproval of Ruskin, who wrote: “I am indeed sorrowfully compelled to express my regret that she should have spent unavailing pains in finishing single heads, which are at the best uninteresting miniatures, instead of fulfilling her true gift, and doing what the Lord made her for in representing the gesture, character, and humour of charming children in country landscapes.” But this change naturally did not pass over her But if the figure ceases to occupy the foremost position, it is still there, and is always present to add a charming vitality to all that she does. To people a landscape with figures, of captivating mien, each taking its proper position, and each adding to the interest of the whole, is a gift which is the property of but few landscapists. It is indeed a gift, for we have before us the example Mrs. Allingham’s case has been the entire contrary to this; she has, I will not say toiled, for the garnering must be a pleasure, but stored, many a time and oft, for future use, a mass of valuable material, so that she is never at a loss for the right adjunct to fit the right place. Her so doing was, in the first instance, due entirely to her husband. He said, truly, that the introduction of animals and birds, in fact, any form of life, gave scale and interest to a picture, and he urged her to begin making studies from the first. There is not the slightest doubt that she owed very much to him that habit of thinking out fitting figures, as she has always tried, and with exceptional success, as accessories to every landscape. Her sketch-books, consequently, are full not only of men, women, and children, and their immediate belongings, but of most of the animal life which follows in their train. I say “most,” because for some reason, which I have not elicited from her, she has preferences. Horses, cattle, and sheep she will have but little of, only occasionally introducing them in distant hay or harvest fields. The only instances of anything akin to either in this book are the animals in “The Goat Carriage,” and “The Donkey Ride.” Nor will she have much to say to Her pictures being always typical of repose, she avoids much motion in her figures. Her children even, seldom indulge in violent action, unlike those of Birket Foster, who run races down hill, use the skipping-rope, fly kites, and urge the horses in the lane out of their accustomed foots-pace. As typical examples of the drawings made in the early days at Witley, and whilst the figure was the main object, we have selected the following:— This is the most important, and, to my mind, the most delightful of any of Mrs. Allingham’s creations; The scene is laid in Mrs. Allingham’s dining-room at Sandhills, Witley, and contains portraits of her children. The incidents are slight but original. The mother is handing a cup of tea, but no one notices it, for the eldest girl’s attention is taken up with the old cat lapping its milk, her younger sister, with her back to the window, is occupied in feeding her doll, propped up against a cup, from a large bowl of bread and milk, and the two other children are attracted to a sulphur butterfly which has just alighted on a glass of lilies of the valley. The etceteras are painted as beautifully as the bigger objects; note, for instance, the bowl of daffodils on the old oak cupboard, the china on the table, and even the buns and the preserves. The whole is suffused with the warmth of a spring afternoon, the season being ascertainable by the budding trees outside, and the spring flowers inside. Exception may be taken to the faces not being more in shadow from a light which, although The effort of negotiating a country stile, such as the one here depicted, which has no aids in the way of subsidiary steps, always induces a desire to rest by the way. Especially is this the case when a well-worn top affords a substantial seat. Time is evidently of little importance to the two sisters, for they have lingered in the hazel copse gathering hyacinths and primroses. Besides, the little one has asserted her right to a meal, and that would of itself be a sufficient excuse for lingering on the journey. The dog seems of the same way of thinking, and is evidently eagerly weighing the chances as to how much of the slice of bread and butter will fall to its share. The drawing is a rich piece of colouring, but the hedgerow bank, with its profusion and variety of flowers, shows just that lack of a restraining hand which is so evident in Mrs. Allingham’s fully-matured work. It was painted entirely in the open air, close to Sandhills, and the model who sat for the little child is now the artist’s housemaid. This drawing, although painted later than “The Children’s Tea,” would seem to be the prelude to a set in which practically the same figures take a part. The motive here, as in all Mrs. Allingham’s subjects, is of the simplest kind. The young girl reads from nursery rhymes that time-honoured one of “Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-cake, Baker’s Man.” It is apparently her younger brother’s first introduction to the bye-play of patting, which should accompany its recitation, for the child regards the performance with some doubt, and has to be trained by the nurse as to how its hands should be manoeuvred. The drawing is full of details, such as the workbox, scissors, thimble, primroses, and anemones in the bowl, the china in the cupboard, and the coloured engraving on the wall, which, as we have seen in the case of other painters who have practised it, opens up in fuller maturity a power of painting which is never possible to those who have neglected such an education. The relations between the teacher and the taught appear to be somewhat strained this summer morning, for the little girl in pink is evidently at fault with her lessons, and the boy, while presumably figuring up a sum on his slate, has his eyes and ears open for a break in the silence which fills the room for the moment. However, in a short time it will be halcyon weather for all the actors, for the sun is streaming in at the window, the roses show that it is high summer, and a day on which the sternest teacher could not condemn the most intractable child to lengthy indoor imprisonment. This drawing is of the same importance as regards size as “The Children’s Tea,” and is full of charm in every part. Lessons are over, a stool has been brought from the schoolroom, the kitchen has been invaded, and the dish of soapsuds having been placed upon it the fun has begun. Who, that has enjoyed it, will forget the acrid taste of the long new churchwarden (where do the children of the present day find such pipes if they ever condescend to the fascinating game of bubble-blowing?) that one naturally sucked away at long before the watery compound was ready, the still more pungent taste of the household soap, the delight of seeing the first iridescent globe detach itself from the pipe and float upwards on the still air, or of raising a hundred globules by blowing directly into the basin, as the smocked youngster is doing here. Such joys countervailed the smarts which befell one’s eyes when the burst bubble scattered its fragments into them, or when The family of young children that was now growing up round our artist naturally necessitated the summer holiday assuming a visit to the seaside, and much of Mrs. Allingham’s time was, no doubt, spent on the shore in their company. It is little matter for surprise that this pleasure was combined with that of welding them into pictures; and, if an excuse must be made for Mrs. Allingham oftentimes robing her little girls in pink, it is to be found in the fact that the models were almost invariably her own children, who were so attired. It certainly will not be one of the least agreeable incidents for those who saunter over the illustrations of this volume to distinguish them and trace their growth from the cradle onwards, until they pass out of the stage of child models. This drawing was painted on the shore at Sandown, Isle of Wight, where the detritus of the It was a hazardous task to attempt success with such a variety of tones of white as here presented themselves, but the result is entirely satisfactory. In fact the drawing shows how readily and with what success the painter took up another phase of outdoor work, not easy of accomplishment. In those collections which include these seashore subjects they single themselves out from all their neighbours by the aptitude with which figures and a limpid sea are painted in sunshine. This, again, is no doubt due to their having been entirely out-of-doors work. This important drawing, in which the figure is on a large scale, makes one regret that Mrs. Allingham abandoned her portraiture, for a more This, at the time it was painted, was the only Post Office of which Bowler’s Green, near Haslemere, boasted, and from its appearance it might well have served during the reigns of several of Her Majesty’s predecessors. It speaks much for the May Day still lingers in some parts of the country, for only last year in an out-of-the-way lane in Northamptonshire the writer encountered a band of children decked in flowers, and their best frocks and ribbons, singing an old May ditty. But lovers have long ago ceased to plant trees before their mistresses’ doors, and to dance with them afterwards round the maypole on the village green, which we too are old enough to remember in Leicestershire. The ceremony that Mrs. Allingham’s children are taking a part in was doubtless the recognition by a poet of his illustrious predecessor Spenser’s exhortation:— The scene is laid in the woods at Witley. |