WE now gather together the various threads of our subject at the point where they were left, viz. the close of the Empire. We have found that during two centuries and a half—from 1600 to 1800, with a little overlapping at either end—the fan passed through the various stages of development and decline; that during the latter years of the sixteenth century both Italy and France, but especially the former, produced objects which may be legitimately described as fine art; that in France, if we make allowance for, and accept a different standard of taste and fashion, the most exquisitely dainty things were produced, the period of Louis XV. being that of the highest development of the art, with a steady decline from thence onwards.

During the first three decades of the nineteenth century the fan languished. The storm and upheaval of the Revolution, the general unrest caused by the Napoleonic wars, were among the chief contributing causes, together with the fact that the great families had fled from France, taking their fans with them. For the first fifteen years of the century, there is little to record except a difference of proportion. ‘Towards 1800,’ to quote M. Rondot, ‘the brins were only 6 or 7 centimetres to the gorge; towards 1813 this was increased to 8 centimetres, and to 19 centimetres in 1841.’

‘When the brisÉs returned into favour in 1804,’ continues this author, ‘the fan-makers employed leather, silver, copper, asses’ skin, and cardboard. The blades were short, and were made by the cutters who ornamented them; this was also the case with the fans of horn which were fashionable towards 1829-30.’

Three examples are given of the earlier years of the century: the first, from the collection of Miss Moss, formerly belonged to Miss Charlotte Yonge the authoress, and is worked upon a foundation of net, with cut and pierced steel decorations. The painted subject in the centre represents a lady seated in a garden, and a boy with hoop and dog; the stick of pierced ivory piquÉ with silver. An Italian example almost identical with this, with the exception of the painted subject, appears in the Museo Civico, Venice.

The fan of asses’ skin, from the same collection, is cut to a perforated pattern, painted in the centre with a subject of birds and flowers, the outside blades of ivory, the whole piquÉ with silver. These peau d’Âne fans were used by ÉlÉgantes at balls, as tablets upon which the names of partners for the dance were inscribed by means of a leaden or silver pencil. The colour is a light slaty-grey; their size averaged from 9 to 10 inches.

The fan which, by the courtesy of Mr. Leopold de Rothschild, we are enabled to illustrate, is elaborately cut to fine perforations, and painted with a large medallion in the centre representing a music lesson, a number of smaller miniatures on the blades, with gilding.

In 1827 the fan was the provocative cause of the conquest of Algeria by the French. A blow on the head of the French consul from the plumed fan of Hussein Dey resulted in an apology being demanded and refused, with the consequent declaration of war.

‘In the course of the year 1828,’ says M. Uzanne, ‘at the time of representations of a comic opera entitled Corisandre, as the heat was suffocating, the youthful dandies fainting languidly in their boxes, it occurred to a Paris manufacturer to sell green paper fans to the men, and the whole theatre was therefore furnished with them. Fashion adopted this innovation of masculine fans, which received the name of Corisandres, but this originality endured but a short time in Paris, as also in Venice and the principal cities in Italy, where men became familiar with the play of the fan;—the beaux abdicated the sceptre of the woman, and resumed as before their Malacca canes.’

An amusing story is told of a near-sighted French writer, who, on a sultry summer evening at the OpÉra, was much incommoded by the flip-flapping of the fans of two persons who sat immediately behind him. Turning to the two delinquents, My dear ladies,’ said he, in the politest of tones, ‘if you will kindly moderate the use of your fans you will render me the happiest of men.’ Instead, however, of the dulcet tones of a lady’s voice, a deep bass smote his ear, and he found himself confronted with the black-bearded, furious, and reddened visages of two lieutenants of the Guards. The amende quickly followed.

It was the circumstance of a grand ball given at the Tuileries in 1829 that occasioned the renaissance of the fan. Madame la Duchesse de Berri was organising a Louis XV. costume quadrille—fans of the period were required to complete the tout ensemble, and none were available. At length one of the guests recollected an old parfumeur in the Rue Caumartin, named Vanier, who had collected ancient fans: these were conveyed to the palace, where, in the quadrille, they created extraordinary interest—were eagerly purchased, and from this time onward in the most exclusive circles, in spite of the fickleness of that jade, Fashion, the fan has retained its hold upon the affections of the fair.

The earliest result of this revival of taste for old fans was, perhaps naturally, a general imitation of old models, and lifeless reproductions of the fans of the Louis Quinze period were made.

It will readily be perceived that this way did not lead to artistic salvation—that it served no good purpose to open up the graves of a dead century and to disturb its poor ghosts. It is true that things were changing for the worse, but there is a healthiness in the very act and spirit of change, even though that change should represent a temporary decline.

This is the epoch of which it will be said that men actually, by some mysterious means, were deprived of what may for present purposes be called their sixth sense, when, though their eyelids were unclosed, they saw not, or only in a perverted manner; it is, nevertheless, one of the curiosities of this most singular epoch that while the general level of artistic attainment was so low, its pictured shadows so dark, the prevailing gloom should be illuminated here and there by lights more bright and intense than in the two preceding epochs. In other words, while we fail to trace with any measure of certainty any single instance, during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, of an artist of the first calibre touching the fan, during the first half of the century that succeeded, the fan may boast of such names as Horace Vernet, Ingres, Isabey, and others only a little less distinguished. These represent the welcome oasis in the dreary desert of mediocrity—the limpid springs at which from time to time we may pause for a few moments to refresh ourselves. Of the work of these famous painters, an ‘Arab dance’ by Horace Vernet is recorded; as also ‘Diana and Endymion,’ the subject treated in the Etruscan style by Ingres, who constantly in his pictures introduced fans, as witness the portrait of Madame DevauÇay, referred to in an earlier chapter, ‘The Odalisque,’ and ‘The Harem.’ We have also, later, an ‘Allegory of the Arts’ by Robert Fleury, a ‘FÊte’ by GÉrome, and fans by Diaz, Vibert, Lami, Glaize, and Jacquemart.

‘The revolution of 1848,’ says M. Rondot, in his report on the 1851 Exhibition, ‘would have crushed the French fan industry if it had not been for the orders for exportation. The production, which in Paris amounted to the value of three million francs in 1847, was reduced by half in the disastrous year that followed; of 565 workers of both sexes 315 were thrown out of employment. At the time of writing’ (1854), continues this author, ‘the industry was in a very flourishing condition.’ This prosperity has been maintained to the present day, ‘Paris being still the only city where a fan may command the price of a hundred pounds.’166

The number of artists and workers employed in Paris and the Oise, says M. Duvelleroy in his report on the Paris Exhibition of 1867, is 4000; the annual value of the production being ten million francs, of which three-fourths is for the foreign market. ‘Paris et la Chine ont seuls le monopole du commerce des Éventails, mais c’est aujourd’hui, en Europe, une industrie toute franÇaise, pour laquelle le monde entier est notre tributaire.’167 The evidence of this exhibition, further affirms this author, showed that France incontestably held the first rank.

‘Spain, who for thirty years had tried to organise her industry, has only arrived at the production of the commoner classes of fans. Italy, who uses fans greatly, does not make them; Portugal being only the third in the European market.’ The British record is correspondingly poor. ‘In the Great Exhibition of 1851,’ says Lady Bristol, ‘there was not one single fan of British manufacture exhibited,’168 and so far as painted fans are concerned, the statement made by Redgrave in his notes to the Catalogue of the Fan Exhibition at South Kensington in 1870, ‘that there were no English fanmakers living except those who made cheap and coarse fans, is substantially correct to-day.’169

The evidence of the fans themselves bears out these statements. The instance may be cited of an engraved fan in the Schreiber collection (No. 69, Mounted Fans) recording Mr. Albert Smith’s ascent of Mont Blanc in 1851, bearing the imprint of the French firm, ‘Leroux et Cie., Fan’s Manufactr., 41 rue Notre Dame de Nazereth, Paris.’ This obviously produced exclusively for the British market.

From Germany comes similar evidence of French pre-eminence; the wedding fan of the Grand Duchess of Baden, exhibited at Karlsruhe in 1891, is signed by a French artist, ‘A. SoldÉ, 1855,’ who produced a number of fans, and is made by a well-known French maker, FrÉdÉric Meyer of Paris. This is painted with the subject of a sacrifice at the Altar of Hymen, and portrait busts of the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess, the initials F. and L., together with ‘Coblentz, 30 Sept. 1855,’ and is a typical fan of the mid-nineteenth century.

Of the work of SoldÉ, a most excellent example, Le Bal d’Amours, is given, graciously lent by H.R.H. Princess Louise, Duchess of Argyll. The leaf is signed on both obverse and reverse, ‘A. SoldÉ,’ and inscribed, ‘Grand Bal donnÉ sous le patronage de Madame.’ The mother-of-pearl stick finely pierced and carved. This formed part of the famous collection of Queen Victoria.

In 1859 an event occurred of the most fateful interest for the fan, M. Alphonse Baude of Sainte-GeneviÈve (Oise) having invented his system of cutting and carving the sticks À jour by machinery! Let us understand clearly what this means to us. Nature, ever bounteous, provides us gratis, without any patent dues, with an instrument—the human hand—the most exquisitely delicate and complicated machine known to us; this instrument is directed by a force—the human mind—still more subtle, if possible, in the delicacy of its operations. In place of this, M. Alphonse Baude, in his wisdom, offers us his conglomeration of wheels, axles, metal bolts, and screws! The intelligent fan-lover will therefore note this date, and carefully examine any fan sticks made subsequent to it.

Fans, however, have been made from time to time having reasonable claims to the possession of artistic qualities. M. Rondot mentions a fan carved in mother-of-pearl and signed by Camille Roqueplan for Duvelleroy, that sold for 1000 francs. A Danish sculptor, M. S. G. Schwartz of Copenhagen, exhibited at Paris in 1867 an ivory fan carved with reliefs of the Seasons after Thorwaldsen; a most beautiful work.

Another brisÉ fan, finely pierced and carved, presented by the ladies of Copenhagen to H.R.H. the Princess of Wales (Queen Alexandra) on the occasion of her marriage in 1863, gives five circular medallions, the centre having the initials A. A. surmounted by the crown, the other four of classical subjects. Underneath, a processional group of Apollo in his chariot, the Graces and the Muses; above, a border of Cupids holding wreaths of flowers; the guards richly embossed in gold, with foliage, flowers, etc., in high relief. The above instances, as well as others that might be named, are exceptional; there can be no possibility of doubt that while the leaves of fans, upon occasion, due to the fact of artists of high calibre having essayed the fan, present some advance, the work of the stick, during the whole of the nineteenth century, exhibits a serious falling off from that of the preceding epochs. This unsatisfactory state of things can only be remedied by a general advance in public taste, by the creation of a demand for the higher class fans, and by individual artists of approved skill turning their attention to this class of work.

During the latter half of the nineteenth century, three prominent Éventaillistes of Paris, MM. Duvelleroy, Alexandre, and Aloys van de Voorde, have made most strenuous efforts to revive interest in the higher class of fans, and have exhibited work by such distinguished painters as Gavarni, Colin, Hamon, Philippe, Rousseau, Karl MÜller, Diaz, EugÈne Lami, Glaize, Compte-Calix, Couture, Corot, Wattier, SoldÉ, Garnier, M^me de Girardin: and such well-known sculptors as Jean FeuchÈre, Klagmann, Jacquemart, Riester, the brothers FanniÈre, EugÈne Berger, Bastard, Lanoy, Vaillant, and others.

Of the work of Gavarni we have unfortunately no example illustrated; a fan by him appeared at South Kensington in 1870, exhibited by the Comtesse de Nadaillac. Of other fans enlivened by his light and humorous touch, two, says Blondel, have become famous: the first was commissioned by Duvelleroy for Queen Victoria: the second, estimated of perhaps greater value, formed part of the Empress EugÉnie’s rich collection. Mirecourt, in his biography of Gavarni, tells the following anecdote. Upon an occasion of the contents of his fine portfolios being praised, he cried, ‘Allons donc! in drawing I have never done but one thing passable; it is a fan for the Empress.’

Gavarni visited this country in 1847, but does not appear to have recommended himself personally to his hosts. He may be counted fortunate in the fact of his having, in spite of a certain spirit of contradiction in his character, impressed the value of his work upon his fellows during his lifetime. Great men, like angels, but too often come upon us unawares, and it is only upon their leave-taking, or after, that we become sensible of the loss of a gracious presence.

The delicate and refined art of Jean Louis Hamon was especially suited to the fan. For a considerable period he was associated with the Royal Porcelain works at SÈvres, producing a number of designs of that light fanciful character with which we are familiar in his paintings. He continued this style of composition, says M. Walther Fol, but applied it to the decoration of fans, in which he excelled. ‘In every sovereign court they were a coveted possession, and if he had desired to supply all demands he could have produced nothing besides.’ The subjects of these delicate fancies in almost every instance have reference to love or marriage. There were Loves who shot arrows transfixing two hearts at once; there was Love with outspread wings, seated upon the raised end of a see-saw, while Hymen, crowned with flowers, held him on high by his weight.

A dress fan made by Alexandre, and painted by Hamon with the subject of ‘An Entomologist,’ and groups of flowers on either side by a well-known flower painter, was presented to the Countess Granville by the foreign commissioners of the Universal Exhibition, Paris, October 26, 1867. The stick is of ivory, carved by C. Rambert with dancing Cupids and foliage, enriched with ormolu and jewelled turquoise. The gift was accompanied by a graceful letter from Mr. (afterwards Sir Henry) Cole, the British Commissioner, referring to the fan as a work of fine art by ‘two distinguished French painters and one sculptor.’ It is, however, more valuable as a souvenir of an interesting occasion, and for the beautiful carving of the stick, than as a representative example of Hamon’s work.

In 1862, J. L. Hamon journeyed to Rome, where he painted ‘L’Aurore,’ exhibited in Paris in the following year, and purchased by the Empress EugÉnie. He died in 1874 at the early age of fifty-three.

Wattier signed a number of fans, of which an exceedingly rich example, an elaborate composition of nymphs and Cupids, is in the possession of the Countess Granville. He was born at Lille in 1800, and died in 1868.

The fan leaf, ‘Le Cerf de St. Hubert,’ by Rosa Bonheur (born 1822, died 1897), is dated 1896, and is consequently one of the latest works of this illustrious painter, whose fame has become universal. The legend of St. Hubert and his Christ vision, an unusual subject with modern artists, though greatly favoured by the painters of the Renaissance, engaged the attention of Rosa Bonheur as early as 1868, when she produced a crayon study, similar in treatment to this fan leaf, with the stag shown a little more in perspective, illustrated in Rosa Bonheur, sa Vie, son Œuvre, Anna Klumpke, 1908. The stag of the fan leaf, reversed however, presents many similarities to the famous picture ‘Le Roi de la ForÊt,’ painted in 1878, the same studies probably being utilised for both works. The leaf is of silk, the painting in transparent pigment, with very little body colour introduced. It appeared at the Franco-British Exhibition in 1908, and is in the possession of M. Georges CaÏn, MusÉe Carnavalet, Paris, by whose courtesy we are enabled to give the illustration. Another fan, ‘Trois Vachers,’ is referred to in the above-mentioned biography.

Claudius Popelin is an artist of the Napoleon III. epoch, who, in addition to his work in enamel, produced a number of fans, examples of which appear in the MusÉe des Arts DÉcoratifs, Paris. These are mostly flowers and objects of natural history, drawn with considerable skill. He was much befriended by the late Princess Mathilde (cousin of Napoleon III.) who presented a fan of her own work to the Empress EugÉnie. In the same collection appear two fans by Ch. Chaplin, whose graceful work in painting is well known here as on the Continent.

In the art library, Victoria and Albert Museum, is a small collection of designs for fans, acquired from the Paris Exhibition of 1867, and typical of the work done during the middle of the century; the fans from these designs being made, in each instance, by Alexandre. Amongst these is a silk leaf representing the four ages of Infancy, Youth, Manhood, and Old Age, forming one group in a large cartouche, occupying three-fourths of the entire space, extremely ably painted, somewhat recalling the style of the French painter Flandrin; the colour scheme being a monotone of mauve with gold embellishments, the panel on a green ground with lightly designed ornaments, signed F. Fossey, MDCCCLXIII. A group of Watteau figures dancing, cleverly touched on a light buff silk mount, and a shepherd piping, with shepherdess and Cupid, a circle of Cupids hovering round a tree, also in the Watteau style, are examples of the lighter and daintier style of mount affected by the French artists of this epoch; the last named signed by Madame Callamatta.

Madame Bisschop, who also has a dainty touch, executed a number of fans during the sixties and seventies, including the silver-wedding fan of Mr. and Lady Charlotte Schreiber. This skin mount, now in the Schreiber collection, British Museum, though it can scarcely lay claim to the highest qualities, is, nevertheless, charming in idea and pretty in colour; it represents a sylvan scene on the borders of a lake upon which are two white swans, a delicate allusion to the bride and bridegroom. In the centre, underneath a tree, is a Cupid turning over the pages of a large book, inscribed ‘April 10, 1880, XXV.’ The subject is enclosed within a cartouche of gold and flowers.

Once again, the Royal Fan, in its hour of need, finds a friend in royalty, on this occasion the most powerful monarch in Europe, Queen Victoria. In 1870, the period of perhaps the lowest ebb of the fan’s fortunes in this country, at the initiative of this royal lady, an exhibition was organised at the South Kensington Museum (now Victoria and Albert), when a prize of £400 was offered by Her Majesty, and four hundred and thirteen examples from the finest collections both here and abroad were shown.

The great success of this exhibition, and the absorbing interest displayed in it, naturally led to the organisation of others. Among the measures adopted by the Worshipful Company of Fanmakers for the purpose of reviving what was at one time ‘a flourishing industry in this ancient city,’ a competitive exhibition of fans was held at Drapers’ Hall in 1878, again under the protecting Ægis of royalty (H.R.H. Princess Louise, now Duchess of Argyll). Twelve hundred and eighty-four fans, ancient and modern, were exhibited; gold, silver, and bronze medals, and money prizes amounting in the aggregate to £172 were awarded, the freedom of the Company being in most instances granted to the prizewinners.

Eleven years later (1889) this experiment was repeated. In addition to prizes offered by the Fanmakers’ Company, others were offered by private individuals and public newspapers, and one hundred and six works were entered for competition.

The Queen newspaper, the donor of one of the prizes, commenting on the exhibition, held at Drapers’ Hall during the month of May, said: ‘Considered as a whole, the exhibition did not come up to our expectations. The liberal prizes offered ought to have brought forward finer and more original work in a branch of minor art which is to be considered as the special province of lady artists,170 and presents so many opportunities for fanciful composition and refined taste in arranging and grouping,’ etc.

In the following year, 1890, the Fanmakers’ Company decided to hold their third competitive exhibition.

The Daily Graphic of May 17 said: ‘The exhibition of fans organised last year by the Company of Fanmakers gave so valuable an impetus to English trade in this direction, that the Company very wisely and patriotically decided to hold another this season.’

On this occasion no less a sum than £275 was placed at the disposal of the Company, to be distributed as prizes for fans and fan designs, the exclusive work of British subjects, the number of exhibits reaching the very respectable total of six hundred.

In 1891 an important exhibition of ancient and modern fans was held at Karlsruhe, under the patronage of the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Baden, a sumptuous illustrated record of the exhibition being issued, the text written by Professor Marc Rosenberg. Sixteen prizes and forty-three diplomas of honour were offered for competition, in which some of the foremost continental artists took part. Of these the distinguished Austrian painter Hans Makart claims a leading place, and may be included in the already long list of artists of the foremost rank who have given their attention to fan painting. A design in crayons and water-colour by him appeared at this exhibition, and is now in the Royal Gallery at Berlin; a charming vision of a procession of children crowding the whole field of the fan, suggesting the impossibility of having too many. Professor Eugen

Klimsch of Frankfurt, the winner of one of the prizes, was represented by ‘The Dance,’ a composition of figures in the style of Watteau, a number of Cupids occupying the centre of the fan, which was priced at the high figure of £500. Professor Hermann GÖtz, director of the School of Arts and Crafts at Karlsruhe, showed an excellent classical composition on paper, of the chariot of an orb or planet. Professor Ferdinand Keller, of Karlsruhe, exhibited an apotheosis of the Emperor William I., an excellent fan mount of a pretty Cupid on a cloud, with a medallion portrait of the Empress and a large eagle. This in the possession of Mr. J. G. Rosenberg, who also owns an extremely able composition of a dance of bacchantes by Georg Papperitz.

There was also a powerful painting of the plein air school, of a pier with fishing-boats, ‘Bewegte See, Schwanenhaut,’ by Professor Gustav SchÖnleber; and an excellent naturalistic painting on silk of parrots, paroquets, etc., by Max Seliger of Berlin.

The above by no means exhausts the good things of this important exhibition, in which was represented practically every phase of modern art, and amply demonstrated the fact that the Germans, artists and public alike, are much more alive to the importance of the fan, both as affording an opportunity for artistic expression, and as an accessory of costume, than we are in this country.

Upon occasion, the fan has led to unforeseen and undesired consequences; a story is told of the eccentric King Ludwig of Bavaria, the gallant and prodigal admirer of the dancer Lola MontÉs. At one of the balls of his Court, a fair princess having inadvertently let her fan fall to the ground, the monarch hastened to pick it up and to restore it to the hands of the giddy beauty, when his forehead came in sharp contact with that of another gentleman, no less desirous than the king of paying homage to the fair. The shock was so great and so violent that King Ludwig, stunned for the moment, soon afterwards discovered growing on his forehead that enormous wen, so well known, and as celebrated as it was unlucky.171

Autograph and inscription fans, which have, during the last two or three decades become popular with the few fortunate ladies who are happy in the possession of a circle of artistic friends, are but a revival of an old-world fashion. We have referred, early in this work, to the custom of poetic inscription which prevailed in China during the Liang dynasty, and to the love-sick lady Pan, of the Han dynasty, who adopted this by way of giving expression to her unrequited love. M. Achille Poussielgue, Voyage en Chine de M. et M^me Bourboulon, says: ‘There are fans of two kinds, open and folding. The former are made of a sheet of ivory or paper, and are used as autograph albums; and it is upon the surface of these white fans that a Chinaman begs his friend to leave a sentence, a drawing, or some characters, by way of recalling the absent to his memory. These album fans, to which great or noted men affix their seals, become of great value.’ ‘In the romance, Ping-chan-ling yen, a eunuch attached to the Emperor’s household, Lieou by name, begs ChÂn-Tai, the noble daughter of ChÂn-hien-jin, to honour him by writing on a fan with her own fair hand. “My sole desire,” he says, “is to possess a fan ornamented with your verses.”’ Some of these autograph fans from the Negroni collection were sold in London about 1866, after the Chinese war, and are said to have reached the extraordinary figure of £900 apiece.

In Japan, also, a charming device for the entertainment of the guests at artistic social gatherings consisted in each member of the company making little sketches expressive of some dainty fancy, or historic incident, on fans. These were passed round, exchanged, and carried away as souvenirs of a friendly and interesting occasion.

It was a happy inspiration of the late Lady Alma Tadema to revive the autograph fan in the form of sign manuals of famous artists and musicians.

The fan consists of twenty-six blades of plain wood on which appear the signatures of such famous painters as Bastien-Lepage, Joseph Israels, Du Maurier, Legros, accompanied in most instances by characteristic sketches; and of such musical executants as Charles HallÉ, with, in several instances, the addition of a few bars of music. The sketches are dated 1879.

The fan of Mrs. Arthur Lewis is a development of the same idea. This has nineteen blades, and the space between the rounded edge and the connecting ribbon is utilised for sketches by Orchardson, Colin Hunter, Pettie, Millais, Leslie, Alma Tadema, Du Maurier, Phil Morris, Ansdell, J. C. Hook, Frank Dicksee, Goodall, Herkomer, Fildes, Marks, Boughton, and Adrian Stokes. The outer blades are ornamented by arabesques enclosing the monogram of the owner, a laurel wreath, and painter’s palettes. The dates recorded are 1880-84.

The popularity on the Continent of this form of autograph fan is evidenced by the fact that three examples were shown at Karlsruhe in 1891 from the collection of Herr Conrad Dreher of Munich. These included the work of such well-known German artists as Ernst Zimmermann, Franz Stuck, Lenbach, Holmberg, LÖwith, Diez, Hermann Kaulbach, and others.

At Karlsruhe, also, was shown an autograph fan belonging to the Baroness Friederichsy, on which were the signatures of all the diplomatists who attended the Berlin Congress. Countess Onola possesses a similar fan, with the autographs of the royal family and the more distinguished personages of the Berlin Court, including Prince Bismarck and Count Moltke.

Mrs. Joachim-Gibson has a ‘Wagner’ fan, with printed portrait of the master, views of the Wagner theatre and of Bayreuth, and, on the reverse, autographs of famous Wagner singers.

Among novelties or curiosities in fans is an example shown at the Vienna Exhibition in 1873, in which each rib was a knife or a fork, or a spoon, or a comb, or a pair of scissors, etc. Any single piece could be removed for use without spoiling the tout ensemble.

In the exhibition of the Fanmakers’ Company at Drapers’ Hall in 1890, a ‘butterfly fan’ appeared. Two large gauze wings, speckled and veined to imitate a gigantic insect, form the fan, the body represented by the handle; upon pressing a button or spring, the wings are set in motion, and, by their fluttering, fan the bearer.

Mrs. Kendal, the famous actress, is also credited with a little surprise, in the shape of a ‘dressing-case fan.’ This is a fan and entire toilet-case in one, and affords its owner an opportunity of beautifying herself on occasions when the ordinary means are unattainable. The sticks are of silver, the leaf of black gauze, with a black velvet mask, resembling those the Venetians carry at Carnival time, set in the centre. Behind this mask, which permits the owner to see everything, may be carried on all the toilet duties for which the fan contains conveniences. Upon turning back one of the broad outer sticks, a little mirror is revealed, and underneath the other is a receptacle for hair-pins, scissors, glove-hook, etc. At the lower end of the fan is a silver box containing a small powder-puff. This was advertised some ten or fifteen years ago as manufactured by Messrs. W. Thornhill and Co.

The employment of the ostrich feather for the folding-fan has been revived during recent years, following an older custom. Many examples occurring in old engravings and pictures may be cited; amongst them the portrait group of the family of Jan Miense Molenaer, by Van Loon, previously referred to, in which a lady holds a folding-fan of white ostrich feathers. (See illustration, p. 196.)

In the sixteenth century, and for a long subsequent period, Venice continued to be the principal emporium for supplying ostrich feathers to Europe, and in no country were they more extensively used than in England. At present England is the mart of the world for feathers; foreign manufacturers, therefore, must perforce come here to make their selections.

It is this latter circumstance, doubtless, together with the universal popularity of the feather itself, which has occasioned their revival—some of the handsomest fans made at present being of that character. The Æsthetic value of these fans, for the most part depends, no doubt, from considerations of cost, upon the beauty of the ostrich feather itself, the sticks being generally of plain ivory, tortoise-shell, horn, or bone—thus justifying the criticism passed upon one of the prize-winners at a competitive exhibition at Drapers’ Hall, that it was to the ostrich that the prize ought really to go. Under no circumstances, however, could these folding-fans hope to vie with the magnificent rigid fans of the Elizabethan era, the form of these handles, apparently, offering better opportunities to the designer than do the radiating sticks of the folding-fan. If we might have feathers set in handles designed in the sumptuous manner of these early fans, well and good; if we could have the sticks of the folding-fans more in keeping with the sumptuous nature of the feather, well also, though not quite so good; but the ever-present question of cost must always remain a determining factor.

The feathers of other birds have also been, and are at present, employed for the purposes of the fan; in this connection the charming Chinese fan at South Kensington of the feathers of the Argus pheasant may be cited. (Illustrated facing p. 59.)

The system of applied feather-work is referred to on a number of occasions in this work, several illustrations being given, notably the Chinese feather screens belonging to Mr. Crewdson, and the Queen Anne screen of Mr. Messel. The practice was common during the latter half of the eighteenth century, used both for fans and other purposes, and it was a favourite pastime with Mrs. Montague, who refers to it in one of her letters, dated 1785:—‘I am obliged to you for your kind attention to my feather-work. The neck and breast feathers of the stubble goose are very useful, and I wish your cook would save those of the Michaelmas goose for us. Things homely and vulgar are sometimes more useful than the elegant, and the feathers of the goose may be better adapted to some occasions than the plumes of the Phoenix.’

Thus Cowper, On Mrs. Montagu’s Feather Hangings:

Fashion has again, during recent years, adopted this system of feather decoration for fans.

‘The latest craze of Viennese society,’ says the New York Commercial, November 23, 1890, ‘is a passion for fans of mountain-cock feathers. The last question the young Austrian belle asks her admirer before he goes on a hunt is, “Won’t you try, please, to bag me a fine fan?” An ideal fan of this kind must contain only feathers from birds brought down by the most expert shots, and every feather must be the lone representative of the giver’s skill; consequently, such a fan may record the admiration and skill of sixty or seventy hunters. It is not unusual to have cut in the ribs of the fans a brief account of the circumstances under which the birds were shot. The German Empress is said to have expressed a wish last summer for such a fan, and ever since that time the young bloods of the Austrian Court, who have already bagged fans for their own women, have been shooting right and left for the Empress’s sake. The handle of the fan, now being completed in Vienna, will be set with jewels in the Prussian colours.’

A more unique example of the spoils of sport is the fan which, by the graciousness of H.R.H. the Princess of Wales, we are enabled to illustrate here. In this, the blades are of red tortoise-shell, twenty in number. The feather portion is composed of a series of tiny feathers from the wing of the woodcock. These, 6520 in number, were supplied by H.R.H. the Prince of Wales from the wings of 3260 woodcocks, there being one only of these miniature feathers in each wing of the bird. Each single feather is fixed with two stitches of thread and worked upon a linen base, the back being formed of the ordinary feathers from the breast and wings.

The fan was commenced on the 18th August 1900, and only completed on the 28th October 1901. The lady who worked it was unable to apply herself for more than an hour or so at a time, the work being so excessively fine and tedious.

The manufacture of the fan was entrusted to Mr. Alfred Clark, of 33 New Bond Street,172 the work being carried out under his direction, and, we believe, on a principle of his own.

M. Édouard Moreau signed a number of fans from 1860 onwards, characterised by a charming delicacy of execution and elaboration of detail. A representative example is given, which appeared in the International Exhibition of 1862, and was purchased for the South Kensington Museum. This, an ivory brisÉ, is painted with three medallions of ‘The Tournament,’ ‘Before the Tournament,’ and ‘After the Tournament.’ The fan was made by Alexandre, and bears very favourable comparison with the best work of the eighteenth century. (Facing p. 87.)

A fan, also manufactured by Alexandre and painted by Moreau, was exhibited in 1870 by Madame Maurice Richard (au MinistÈre des Beaux-Arts, Paris). The vellum mount has for centre a medallion, with the initials ‘H. R.’ (HÉlÈne Richard) surmounted by two doves. On either side are medallions with figures emblematic of Sculpture and Music, Poetry and Painting, painted en camaÏeu on a gold ground by Moreau. On the reverse, in a medallion, the Genius of the Arts awarding wreaths to Sculpture, Architecture, Painting, Music, and Poetry. The ivory stick, carved and pierced in the style of the sixteenth century, is also painted by Moreau, with medallions of seraphs playing musical instruments, and supporting emblems of the arts they represent; the guards bearing the initials ‘H. R.’ in gold.

Many fans bearing Moreau’s signature have mounts of lace, the ivory stick being minutely painted with medallions of figure subjects near the handle end, usually three subjects enclosed in an ornamental setting. An excellent example is given from the collection at the Victoria and Albert Museum. M. Duvelleroy (of Regent Street) also has a fan arranged on similar lines; another, in the possession of Mr. G. J. Rosenberg, was exhibited at Karlsruhe in 1891, both the last named being made by Alexandre.

This leads us to the important subject of lace mounts. The use of this delicate material for the fan, especially suited by its lightness and daintiness, has been revived during recent years.

A lace fan having in the centre the word ‘Elena,’ surmounted by a royal crown, was made at Burano and presented to Queen Elena of Italy on her marriage in 1896. In Devonshire, also, lace mounts have been made; in the Paris Exhibition of 1900 appeared a fan with a coat of arms in the centre, in which Miss Trevelyan adapted an Italian design to the old Honiton stitches, illustrated by Mrs. Bury Palliser in her work on Lace.

Fans have been, and are, a feature of the Youghal lace industry, established by the sisterhood of the Presentation Convent, county Cork, the oldest of the many that have sprung up under the fostering care of the Irish nuns, and dating back to the dark times of 1847, when famine decimated the rural population of the south and west of Ireland. The designs are in each instance furnished by the sisters, who are qualified under the Board of Education.

The Irish flat needle-point of Youghal, though doubtless derived in the first instance from foreign sources, may be said to have developed into a purely native art, capable of well holding its own against any contemporary foreign work.

Fan leaves have been worked for many highly placed personages; the example illustrated was presented by the Earl of Crewe to H.R.H. the Princess Mary on her marriage, and is, perhaps, one of the most successful in point of design and richness of effect. A wedding gift to H.R.H. the Princess Maud of Wales has for centre the initial M. surmounted by a crown.

A beautiful example, of the finest workmanship, was presented to H.M. Queen Alexandra on the occasion of her first visit to Ireland after the Coronation, in 1903, and has for centre the Irish harp, with the appropriate inscription in Celtic half uncials, on a ribbon running over the whole field of the fan:

Another fan was presented to H.R.H. the Princess Margaret of Connaught as a wedding gift, and obtained a prize at an exhibition in Dublin in 1897. The number of medals awarded by the various international and other exhibitions testify to the universal appreciation of this delicate industry, which has for some years past, with the full consent of the nuns, been formed into a co-operative society, thus enabling the workers to participate fully in the profits accruing to the association. The thread is a linen one of various degrees of fineness, from the strong No. 1 to the almost invisible No. 400, and though so delicately wrought, it wears better than most other laces, and can be cleaned repeatedly without suffering injury in texture or appearance.173

We are enabled, by the gracious permission of Her Majesty, to illustrate the lace fan presented by the Worshipful Company of Fan-makers to Queen Alexandra for use on Coronation Day, 1902. This bears two crossed A’s surmounted by the royal crown. On the panaches the royal monogram again appears surmounted by the crown.

Lace may be said to be the one single industry remaining comparatively uninfluenced by the modern art movement, which is professedly a return to the independent study of natural forms. We say comparatively uninfluenced, since most praiseworthy, and, indeed, successful attempts have been made both in this country and abroad to profit by the abundant ornamental suggestion which Nature everywhere offers us. The beautiful lace fan contributed by M. Duvelleroy suggests almost infinite possibilities in the treatment of this charming material; it is designed on a convention essentially modern; it is the art of to-day, of the present moment, owing practically nothing to the past, and representing that revolt against tradition, which, for good or for ill, has come to be one of the most significant features of modern art.

Nor is this the only instance that might be cited. Excellent designs for lace mounts, based upon natural forms, have from time to time been made in our schools; in this connection may be mentioned the work of Miss Lydia Hammett, of the Taunton School of Art, who has produced charming fan mounts in Brussels and other lace in which bird and plant life are happily treated, and with a proper and due sense of the limitations imposed by the material.

Miss L. Oldroyd, also, has worked a number of charming lace mounts, including one for a fan presented to Queen Victoria by the Worshipful Company of Fanmakers on the occasion of the diamond jubilee.

On the Continent, among some of the most admirably reticent work, a treatment more frankly unusual has been adopted, not without successful results. In the article on ‘Der Moderne FÄcher,’ in the Kunstgewerbe-blatt for September 1904, Frau M. Erler gives several admirable examples from Vienna and elsewhere, together with illustrations of her own work, consisting of a happy arrangement of appliquÉ embroidery and network or gauze insertion, extremely effective, and losing none of its value from the fact of its having been obtained by simple means. We have festoons of flowers embroidered on a light ground of gauze, with ornamental spaces of network insertion; we have the mountain-ash arranged symmetrically, the leaves painted red with embroidered outline; the ‘honesty’ treated as a broad border, the outline embroidered; the rose treated as an all-over pattern, the groundwork in artfully alternated lace and net.

At the time of writing, the news of Charles Conder’s death reaches us. He was a man of singular gifts, a modern of the moderns, whose work, though doubtless derived from that of a past age, would have been impossible at any other epoch than our own. What Conder undoubtedly possessed, and in a very high degree, was that subtle quality which for lack of a better word we call style, a quality not easy of definition, but readily felt. It would be difficult to say what style is, it is far easier to say what it is not; it is not for example, design; a man may possess considerable power of design without much perception of style; it is not a sense of proportion, although this comes nearer the mark; it is not originality either, since a man may be very original indeed, and only prove himself ridiculous; it is rather, a happy blending of these several elements, and some others also.

To this great gift of nature, since this quality in its highest form cannot be acquired, Conder added practically nothing. It is with a feeling akin to resentment that we find faculties so exceedingly rare and so precious, allied to such a lamentable lack of training and art education. It is indeed possible that, if his life had been prolonged, these shortcomings would have been supplied, as Burne-Jones taught himself the human figure after he became famous; but, after all, criticism is perhaps somewhat ungracious where there is so much that is admirable, and the utility of speculations as to the ‘might have beens’ is extremely questionable.

The number of Conder fans existing in various collections must be considerable. Mr. Lane has a dozen, or possibly more, of which perhaps the finest is reproduced here. Silk is the material employed, to which his method is especially suited. They appear to have been mounted only in very rare instances, and are generally framed for purposes of decoration. There is no reason why they should not be used—in fact, there is every reason why they should, since suitability to a prescribed purpose is one of the very first canons of good art. Mrs. Lane has a blue fan, mounted, and in use.

The work of Frank Conder is obviously founded on that of Charles, with which it presents many features in common. Among the several fans by this artist illustrated in the winter number of the Studio, that representing two young girls holding masks, with Cupids, and in the background a river and bridge, is perhaps the most individual.

The many admirers of Mr. Brangwyn’s work, and they are legion, will doubtless welcome the two characteristic examples given of fans by his hand. In both instances, the colour scheme is a play upon blue, somewhat similar to, and at the same time, necessarily, vastly different from, the red fan of Mr. Conder. The motto of Danton the Republican—‘de l’audace, et encore de l’audace, et toujours de l’audace,’ ‘to dare, and again to dare, and always and evermore to dare,’ would seem to be peculiarly fitting to the work of Mr. Brangwyn. In the hands of a less gifted artist this would probably mean disaster; in the instance of the original of the coloured illustration, a bold gouache on silk, the result is one of almost overpowering brilliance. The half-tone illustration represents a sketch on grey paper, and must be considered merely as the first idea of a fan, to be materially modified in the working out.

Mr. Brangwyn has, among his multifarious activities, found time to produce quite a number of fans and designs for fans, which have found their way into various hands. In the Studio winter number for 1901-2 appeared a coloured illustration—a rich composition of young girls gathering roses—also painted on silk. In the article on ‘Der Moderne FÄcher,’ in Kunstgewerbe-blatt for September 1904, by Frau Margaret Erler of Berlin, previously alluded to, appeared the first sketch for this Studio fan, vigorously drawn in chalk.

It is impossible at the present stage of a career having in the natural order of things so much before it, and in the face of such superabundant energy, to form any definite idea of the ultimate outcome of Mr. Brangwyn’s art; of his present accomplishment, his etched work, which ranks amongst the most remarkable produced during recent periods, seems likely, in the opinion of the present writer, to earn for him the most enduring fame. If we might conceive etched or engraved fans becoming again popular in the twentieth, as they were in the eighteenth century, it might be an interesting speculation as to how Mr. Brangwyn would treat an etched fan. The material of zinc, which he so much affects, and in which he has discovered such great possibilities, would, doubtless, be unsuitable for such a delicate object; nevertheless, we can imagine some rapid and characteristic note on copper, the print further enlivened here and there by a touch of colour, as a suitable thing to be fluttered in the hand of the fair. Such work would provide, in these days of lack of patronage, other artists also with a means of augmenting their too often, it is to be feared, but slender incomes, since there would be an additional incentive to purchase a print that might be applied to a definite purpose, or made the occasion of some graceful offering.

Mr. H. Granville Fell, whose Court of Love, a composition in the shape of a reversed heart, with Cupid enthroned in the centre, was illustrated in the Studio winter number above referred to, is another instance of an English present-day artist who has essayed fan painting or designing.

Miss Jessie King, whose charmingly original style is admirably suited to the fan, was also represented in the same publication. The beautiful fan graciously lent for reproduction by H.R.H. Princess Henry of Battenberg, the wedding gift of Queen Victoria, is entirely of English workmanship, designed and painted by a lady student of the Training School at South Kensington.

‘What style of ornament is most suitable for the fan?’ asks Charles Blanc, who draws attention to the fact of the pleats breaking up or distorting the design or picture. Our author suggests as a possible way out of this difficulty ‘that each pleat or fold should have a separate subject, or, at least, that the subject be so arranged that the pleats have relation to each other, as, a Watteau harlequin kissing his hand to a columbine, a Leander quarrelling with Isabelle, these being placed on blades that in refolding would reunite the lovers and reconcile the disputants. But to develop a graceful subject on a series of projecting and retreating angles, all more or less acute, would be a waste of labour. Is it not better to use in these cases a different or a radiating ornament? Is it not better to scatter over a fan a charmingly discordant arrangement of pictures and colours, or even to place isolated subjects between the folds, in order that elegant women, in manipulating their fans, may have twenty opportunities of showing in each fancy group the artist’s talent, and at the same time, of displaying some special charm of their own—a pretty hand, a well-turned arm, or beautiful eyes?’174

Our author has drawn attention, in his light and charming way, to a difficulty which is practically insuperable; there is nothing new in this suggestion of decorating each pleat with a separate subject, or of a consecutive series of subjects. Many instances of its application might be cited; some are given in this work, notably the Italian fan of mica, in which subdivision is carried to its utmost limit. But we must not take our

author too seriously, and although his suggested fan, if carried out, would be a most exquisite experience, especially if drawn with the power of a Gavarni, or designed with the skill of a Sambourne or a Caran d’Ache, the opportunity afforded to the painter by the full space of the mount far outweighs any slight disturbance of the design caused by the pleating; moreover, is it not a fact that silk, the material most favoured by modern artists, which, when prepared with rice size and stretched, offers as suitable a material as could be desired for the free play of the brush, opens out to practically a flat surface?

George Augustus Sala has referred to the fan painted by Sir Matthew Digby Wyatt with the subject of the ‘Triumph of Love,’ as marking the period of the English revival of fan painting, and as a striking exemplification of the folly of assuming that a great artist derogates from the dignity of his calling by painting fans. He may stoop, indeed, says this author felicitously, but it will be to conquer!

Our task is at length completed; we have endeavoured to trace to its source in the dimmest past the chequered history of this little toy, once the pride and the glory of kings, and now the plaything of queens. We trust we have shown that, in the words of Sir George Birdwood, there is perhaps more in a fan than was dreamt of in Johnson’s matter-of-fact definition:—‘An instrument used by ladies to move the air and cool themselves.’

What, then, of the future? May we reasonably look forward in this twentieth century for a renaissance of the fan; for a re-attainment, if not of its past spiritual significance, at least of something of its artistic possibilities?

The future is full of hope; we have turned our backs upon the bad old nineteenth century, with its manifold outrages upon the Æsthetic sense; the foundations, at any rate, of a living art have begun to be laid—were begun, as a matter of fact, by this same nineteenth century, following that strange natural order of the outcome of good from evil and the apparent inseparability of both; a new Phoenix has arisen out of the ashes of the old; a new era has come, showing everywhere signs of a revived artistic life, with plenty of capable heads to invent and willing hands to carry out. Mesdames, it is with your charming selves that the issue rests. You have but to utter the word and your sceptre shall again become a wonder of wreathed beauty and woven grace, rivalling in its blossoming the golden-flowered sceptres of eld!175