Chapter III

The argument continually carries us away into a seeming denial to the graphic arts of all subject of any sort other than the painter's subject pure and simple, that is to say, form expressed on a flat surface, light and shade, tints and gradations, and color. And yet we cannot be quite satisfied with this conclusion in view of the fact that the great painters of the past, the men whom Mr. Moore cites throughout his article named above as regardless of "the subject in the modern sense," still painted humanity, and that with interest. The thought expressed in the discussion given above, if it stands alone and by itself, is likely to mislead the student in this way, that he will suppose that the artist in color or light and shade is indifferent to human interest. But this is not exactly so, and an anecdote, nothing in itself, may illustrate this fact. It is only a few days ago that a certain wide reader, one who has much knowledge of men and of affairs, a traveller, too, and a student, but an artist always and primarily, an artist of forty years' constant practice, meditation, and severe training, alone with a friend, was talking to him of Mr. Kipling's recent poem about the torpedo-boats, and the destruction of the enemy's ships by night—and, as this seemed to interest neither party very much, our artist's friend turned to that other poem of Mr. Kipling's which begins with the couplet:

This 'appened in a battle to a batt'ry of the corps.
Which is first among the women an' amazin' first in war.

To the second poem the instantaneous response was made that that indeed was worth reading, that there was human interest in that. Now, this remark would have been of no special value to our present argument had it come from the lips of a literary man, or of a sociologist, a philanthropist, or what you please, except the man who did actually say it, namely, an artist with the brush and with colors. That this painter, living almost exclusively the life of a painter, should have felt the need of human interest in the one case and the presence of it, even in the rough soldiering and coarse-grained emotions of the other, is notable, in a way. But observe that the comment was made upon two poems and not upon two paintings. Had the same two subjects been painted, the case might have been very different, because the picture of the great fleet and the destroying torpedo-boats might have been immeasurably more powerful from every point of view from which a picture should be judged than the picture which would illustrate the incident on the battle-field.

Nearer the wheeling beams that spell
The council of our foes.——

What those two lines in the poem express, and express well for a piece of wording, the picture might easily make a principal incident and a principal part of its subject—its artistical subject. The blaze of the search-lights half illuminating the ocean and leaving the rest of it the darker by contrast, while the fatal torpedo-boat eludes the light and is dimly recognized by the path it has drawn of ripples and foam which themselves catch what little light is diffused through the damp atmosphere from the white beams which pierce the darkness; all this would be a picture, and this which is here described would be the sufficient subject of the picture. On the other hand, the battle-field scene might easily be the stupidest thing possible; red uniforms, with dust and horses of several colors, the gleam of light on the guns and accoutrements; all of this is artistic subject, indeed, but it is of the slightest and most commonplace kind, and unless treated with wonderful technical skill, would fail to command much respect. Unquestionably, the "human interest," if strongly felt by the painter in this case, might be effective to give personality to the driver, to the driver's brother, and even to the slaughtered horse, and a dramatic composition might possibly be made out of that which, in almost any painter's hands, would become a mere narrative picture of the kind most commonly in evidence and most to be deprecated.

And yet there is "human interest" to be found in pictures which are none the worse for having it. The discussion of these is simply the most difficult task that is set to one who would write about the art of painting. Let us take Paul Baudry's picture of Charlotte Corday. The scene is a very small room with a low dado for the protection of the wall, as befits a bath-room. On the left is the bath-tub with high straight sides, and filled with the sheet, the _fond de bain_, so commonly in use even now on the continent of Europe. Beside the bath-tub, a rough wooden box has been "up-ended" and carries, like a little table, an old-fashioned round ink-stand, a sheet of paper, and a quill pen. A short plank which has been lying across the foot of the bath-tub has tipped into the tub, carrying with it some sheets of paper. A chair which has been standing by the side of the bath-tub is overset. With the chair has fallen a garment which still partly covers it; and a plumed hat fills the extreme right-hand lower corner of the picture. A map of France, as large as the wall of the small chamber allows, hangs opposite to the spectator and to the eye of the person occupying the bath-tub. The well-known facts are that Marat, while following the prescription of his physicians and taking the long-continued bath prescribed, was occupied in writing, and that Charlotte Corday, on her persistent demand, was admitted that she might lodge with him some complaint, and that she then stabbed him to the heart. Of the dying or the dead Marat, nothing is seen but the foreshortened face, one shoulder, and the long bare arms; the handle of the deadly knife projects and is relieved against the livid flesh. The resolute woman stands against the window-jamb, and in full light, relieved by her own and the wall's shadow cast upon the map and the dado behind. Her figure is tall and massive; she is dressed in a gown with strongly marked stripes and wears a voluminously folded handkerchief around her shoulders and neck; her hair is loosened; her figure dominates the picture and seems to reduce everything else to an accessory. The face of the slayer is set, as if with the resolution she has just acted on, and with terror as to what is now to follow. The eyes are wide open and the action of the right hand, with clenched fingers, shows how, in relinquishing the haft of the knife, the muscles have convulsively closed again as if it were still retained by their clutch.

The thing to observe here is the presence of the human interest demanded, and that in a very concentrated form, indeed; but also the relatively larger value of the artistic language in which the story has been told, and of the smaller value, relatively, of the human interest itself. Let us admit that the picture is a nobler work of art because of this expression of human interest—the striking down of the tyrant, the momentary victory of the heroine, the approaching cruel punishment of that heroine—patience, resignation, resolution, patriotism, and just enough of questioning as to the glory and value of the great French Revolution. All this, which in a poem would be insisted on, dwelt upon, which would form the one "subject" of the work of art, here, in the picture, forms but a part of the subject, and in the opinion of every artist, the inferior, secondary part. The chief subject is, after all, form, line and mass, light and shade, and color. The result is better for having the human interest; the work of art is nobler than if the same light and shade and color were investing walls and draperies where no human interest existed; and the conclusion seems to be that what is valuable in the picture is primarily the two human beings as visible objects, and the strong contrast between them in their represented action, their pose, their coloring—that is, in the outward aspect of their life; and, secondly, the organized light and shade of which these human figures form the chief and ruling part. And the lesson to learn seems to be that the language of painting is so immensely more important, relatively, than the language of literature, that the rules of judgment, applied to the one art, fail lamentably when they are tried upon the other.

R. S.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Thomas Potter Cooke, familiarly known as "Tippy Cooke,"
left London at the age of ten to join the navy, where he
distinguished himself by courageous exploits on various
occasions. The peace of Amiens closing that career he
sought his second love—the stage, playing small parts in
the provinces until engaged by Elliston as stage manager of
the Surrey. He subsequently joined the Adelphi, Drury Lane,
English Opera House and Covent Garden Theatres, performing
eccentric and melodramatic parts suited to his mammoth
frame, like _Orson_ and the _Monster_ in "Frankenstein," and
being especially liked in _Long Tom Coffin_ and other sailor
characters. In 1829 a poor playwright named Douglas Jerrold
had "Black-Eyed Susan" accepted by Elliston, who made a small
fortune out of its four hundred consecutive performances with
Cooke as _William_, whose representation became a part of
English stage history. Mr. Cooke died in 1864.

[B] Clara Fisher's first appearance at Drury Lane in 1817,
when but six years old, occasioned a craze for the "Infant
Phenomenon" that swept through England; and, that being
exhausted, she was brought in 1827 to triumph in America
as a sparkling comedienne. Until her marriage in 1834 to
Professor James G. Maeder she was the favorite of the stage,
and continued to act, though with diminished lustre, until
1880, when she left the profession.

As an infant prodigy her greatest successes were in _Richard
III._, _Douglas_, _Shylock_, and similar parts, and her
more mature and acceptable performances in her famous career
throughout the United States for ten or fifteen years were in
"Kate Kearney," "Letitia Hardy," "Clari," "Paul, the Pet,"
"Victoire," "Kate O'Brien" and the whole range of bright
musical comedy and elegant vaudeville. She died at Metuchen,
N. J., on November 12, 1898.

[C] Joseph Jefferson, first of that name, the son of
the comedian of Garrick's company, Thomas Jefferson, and
grandfather of our Joe, was born in Plymouth, England, in
1774. Tired of the Plymouth stage, with which he had been
connected from childhood, he came, at the suggestion of
Manager Powell of Boston, to America at the age of twenty, and
played with Hodgkinson and Hallam at the John Street Theatre,
New York, until Dunlap opened the Park in 1798. For five
years he there essayed comic and old men's characters until,
in 1803, he was fortunately and permanently engaged at the
then leading theatre of the country, the Chestnut Street, in
Philadelphia. There he practically remained until his death,
in August, 1832, the favorite and popular comedian of the
American stage. Of the two hundred characters he essayed,
many are unknown to the playgoer of the present day, but
his versatile talent was greatly commended in _Polonius_,
_Jeremy Diddler_, _Touchstone_, _Bob Acres_, _Dominie
Sampson_, _Mawworm_, _Captain Copp_, _Dogberry_, _Scaramouch_
and _Solus_ in "Every One Has His Fault," a comedy by Mrs.
Inchbald.

Only careful and clear-headed readers of William Winter can
form an idea of the comic genius involved in the name of
Jefferson on the American stage. One of its most promising
members, who died when but twenty-three, was John Jefferson,
third son of Joseph. His last performance was in 1831, at
Lancaster, in "The School for Scandal."—The cast was as
follows:

Sir Peter Teazle Joseph Jefferson, Sr.
Sir Oliver Surface John Jefferson
Rowley Joseph Jefferson, Jr.
(Father of Our Joe.)
Lady Teazle Mrs. S. Chapman
(Elizabeth Jefferson, John's sister, a celebrated and
popular Park Theatre actress.)
Mrs. Candour Mrs. Joseph Jefferson, Jr.
Lady Sneerwell Jane Jefferson Anderson
(Daughter of John's sister Euphemia and mother of Effie
Germon.)
Maria Miss Mary Anne Jefferson

[D] George Horton Barrett ("Gentleman George"), came here
as an infant from England, where he was born June 9, 1794,
and appeared, when but thirteen years old as Young Norval at
the Park Theatre. He afterward became one of the best known
light comedians on our stage, performing, with great success,
_Charles Surface_, _Puff_ in the "Critic," _Captain Absolute_,
_Doricourt_, and similar characters from 1822 to 1855, when he
took his farewell testimonial benefit at the New York Academy
of Music. Mr. Barrett was especially celebrated as a stage
manager through a long part of his fifty years of professional
life, first with Gilfert of the Bowery Theatre, then with
Tom Barry at the Tremont Theatre in Boston: afterward with
Caldwell of the New Orleans Theatre.

He was best known in this city as the manager of Colonel
Mann's Broadway Theatre from its opening in 1847. He was
a tall and graceful actor, with a refined manner which
secured his well-known appellation. He died in New York City,
September 5, 1860.

[E] Frances Anne Kemble, authoress, poetess, and actress,
beautiful and gifted, was born in London, November 27, 1809.
To save her father, Charles Kemble, from bankruptcy, she
went on the stage in 1829 and at once took her place on the
top of the ladder, disdaining, however (as did an eminent
American actress), the steps which led to renown, and made
friends, fame, and fortune. For nearly three years she filled
Covent Garden and replenished its exhausted treasury with her
wonderful impersonation of _Juliet_ (her first part), and
in _Lady Teazle_, _Portia_, _Beatrice_, _Bianca_, as well
as her aunt's (Mrs. Siddons) great characters, _Isabella_,
_Euphrasia_, _Calista_ and _Belvidera_. Equal to her _Juliet_
was her original part of _Julia_ in the "Hunchback," and
when she came with her father to America in September, 1832,
her reception and continued support by the best elements of
society were unprecedented. In the full tide of triumphant
success she left the stage in 1834 to make an unhappy alliance
with Pierce Butler of Philadelphia, who took her—an ardent
abolitionist—to his plantation in Georgia. In 1845 she became
divorced from Mr. Butler. The following year she spent with
her talented sister, Adelaide Kemble Sartoris, in Continental
travel, and in 1847 commenced her famous readings, with
unvarying success both in America and England. The last of
these in New York was given to crowded and cultured audiences
in Steinway Hall, October, 1868. She died at her daughter's
residence in London, January 16, 1893.

[F] Charles, youngest of the Kemble family, was born the
year his sister, Mrs. Siddons, made her first appearance
at Drury Lane, 1775. This graceful, elegant actor, after
awkward beginnings, became the incomparable _Mercutio_,
_Falconbridge_, _Mirabel_, _Cassio_, _Orlando_, _Captain
Absolute_, _Charles Surface_, _Romeo_, and _Benedick_ of the
English stage for nearly a quarter of a century—most of it
passed with his talented family at Drury Lane, Haymarket, and
Covent Garden Theatres; of the last named he became manager,
to his infinite loss and vexation.

Saved from ruin by his daughter's talents, he brought her
to America in 1832 to reap a golden harvest. His fame and
her beauty, with their combined brilliant acting, filled the
leading theatres of the country till 1834, when she married
and in 1835 he returned to England to remain. Although he
fairly performed leading parts in tragedies such as _Hamlet_,
_Pierre_, _Richard III._, and _Othello_, his gay, gallant, and
effective personation of high comedy carried the intelligent
audiences by storm.

From 1835 to 1840 he occasionally acted in England, but
preferred giving readings of Shakespeare, which he did
frequently by royal command, though his increasing deafness
interfered greatly with his stage performances. He held the
position of Examiner of Plays, to which he had been appointed
by the Lord Chamberlain, until his death on November 11, 1854.

[G] Alexina Fisher, born in Frankfort, Ky., in 1822, inherited
her brilliant talents from her popular father and mother,
Mr. and Mrs. Palmer Fisher, the latter best known to fame and
Philadelphia audiences as Mrs. Edward N. Thayer. Alexina, who
appeared in infancy on the stage, made her first success as
_Young Norval_ at the New York Bowery in 1831, although she
had previously appeared at the Park as _Clara_ in the "Maid
of Milan," and she became, like her relative and predecessor,
the celebrated Clara Fisher, a starring "infant prodigy," even
performing _Juliet_ to George Jones's _Romeo_ for her benefit
at the Bowery. From 1835 to 1850 Miss Fisher was attached for
seven years to the Chestnut and eight years to the Walnut's
regular companies in Philadelphia, dividing the honors, as a
comedienne, with her mother.

In 1851 she married John Lewis Baker and went with him to
California for three years, performing there and subsequently
at the various theatres he managed in Cincinnati, Louisville,
and lastly the Grand Opera House, New York, all the leading
characters in genteel comedy and lighter tragedy with
unvarying success. Her last appearance in New York was
in support of Edwin Booth during his famous Winter Garden
engagement of 1862. She died in Philadelphia, March 27, 1887.

[H] Madame Celeste, who came here under the name of
Mademoiselle Celeste, in June, 1827, and bounded at once into
the affections of young New York, claimed to be but fourteen
years of age when she appeared at the Bowery, then called the
American Theatre. The next year the precocious beauty became
the wife of Henry Elliott, of Baltimore, but remained on
the stage the only première danseuse and pantomimist in the
country.

After two years of immense success in our cities she returned
home to Paris, then to London, and became a star on the
English stage. Every few years she would make her "last
appearance in America," and her farewell benefits outnumbered
Miss Cushman's. Much as she played in English-speaking
lands she was unable to learn the language until late in her
career, and her attractions were confined to her wonderfully
expressive pantomime and her exquisite dancing; she created
_Mathilde_ in the "French Spy," _Miami_ in the "Green Bushes,"
_Fenella_ in "Masaniello," _Miriam_ in "The Woman in Red" and
the _Bayadère_ in Auber's beautiful ballet-opera.

[I] Charlotte Saunders Cushman, descendant of the Puritan
Cushmans of Mayflower days, fought down the ill-success
attending her first essay in opera, and after years of
struggling as a poorly paid stock actress at the Bowery
and Park Theatres, by sheer merit rose to the position of
the Queen of Tragedy, and maintained it for twenty years.
From 1845 to 1849, and again from 1852 to 1857, she was so
recognized in England and divided the applause with Macready
at the Princess's Theatre in London on her first visit. Her
forcible and almost masculine manner and face prevented
success in comedy, but made her _Meg Merrilies_, _Nancy
Sykes_, and _Helen McGregor_, as well as _Lady Macbeth_,
_Alicia_, _Queen Catherine_, and _Bianca_ world renowned.
In heavy tragedy and melodrama no one has filled her place.
She was acceptable as _Romeo_, which she often played, and
passable as _Hamlet_, _Wolsey_, and even _Claude Melnotte_.
During the war she performed several times for the sanitary
commissions, and gave liberally of her large fortune. She
contented herself with giving readings, which were uniformly
successful, from 1870 to 1875, and died, in her native city
of Boston, February 18, 1876, in her sixtieth year.

[J] Thomas Apthorpe Cooper left unappreciative London in his
twentieth year to try his fortune with Manager Thomas Wignell
at the Chestnut Street Theatre in Philadelphia in 1796. There,
as afterward in New York, his handsome face and figure, fine
voice, and unquestioned ability made him the popular favorite
in leading parts both of tragedy and genteel comedy.

During the first quarter of the century he was the
acknowledged leader of the profession, and both on and off
the stage courted and admired. In 1806 he became, first
with Dunlap then with Stephen Price, the manager of the Park
Theatre until 1814. In 1803 he had visited England and again
in 1810 with only moderate success. At the latter visit he
induced George Frederick Cooke to come to America with him;
during Cooper's last visit to England in 1828 he was coldly
treated as an American, but welcomed home warmly when,
with J. H. Hackett as _Iago_, he produced "Othello" on his
return. Both these parts, with _Hamlet_, _Macbeth_, _Leon_,
_Pierre_, _Mark Antony_, _Beverly_, _Hotspur_, _Petruchio_,
_Doricourt_, and _Charles Surface_ were ranked among the
best of the one hundred and fifty characters he frequently
appeared in. He practically left the stage in 1835, although
he played occasionally until 1838. Through the influence of
his son-in-law, Robert Tyler, he was appointed a New York
Custom House officer, a position he held until his death at
Bristol, Pa., in his seventy-third year, April 21, 1849.

[K] Edmon Sheppard Conner, born in Philadelphia, September 9,
1809, at twenty left the tailoring board to do small parts at
the Arch and Walnut Street Theatres, thence to Cincinnati and
the West. He was a fine-looking, tall, and versatile actor;
he played all sorts of business with Wemyss from 1834 to 1838
in Pittsburg and Philadelphia. In the latter year he became
leading juvenile at Wallack's National Theatre in New York,
and for several years thereafter performed mainly in New York
and his native city lighter parts in both tragedy and comedy,
with occasional dashes into melodrama, which was his best
forte. His favorite parts were _Claude Melnotte_, _Wallace_,
_Rob Roy_, etc. He also, with moderate success, managed the
Arch Street Theatre from 1850 to 1852, and the Albany Theatre
in 1853 and 1854. For twenty years he made starring tours
through this country (visiting England in 1875), where his
commanding presence and remarkable versatility were fairly
acceptable. He died at Rutherford, N. J., on December 15,
1891.

[L] Thomas Sowerby Hamblin was born in London in 1800, and
after performing for six years in England, rising from small
business in the provinces to a prominent place at Drury Lane,
came here, in 1825, and on November 1st appeared at the Park
Theatre as _Hamlet_. After starring through the United States
for four years as a tragedian, he became the lessee of the
Bowery Theatre, New York, "Baron" James H. Hackett being
associated with him for the first year (1830). Five years of
careful management made Hamblin sole owner, when in September,
1836, the theatre burned down after the performance of Miss
Medina's successful play of "Lafitte," causing a total loss.
Undismayed, Hamblin secured a lease of the rebuilt Bowery,
which was burned in 1838 and again in 1845.

In 1848 he procured and refitted the Old Park Theatre, which
opened on September 4th, and was burned down on December 16th,
closing the career of "Old Drury" and of Hamblin as manager
at the same time. No man was better known in the thirties
and forties in New York than Tom Hamblin, and his fine Roman
head and strongly marked face were familiar at Windust's,
Florence's, the Astor and all such places where men loved to
congregate. He was a strong melodramatic actor but troubled
with a severe asthma which frequently affected his speech. He
died at his residence in Broome Street, January 8, 1853.

[M] The French: the Marquesas, Paumotus, and Tahiti being all
dependencies of France.

[N] Stevenson's stepdaughter, Mrs. Strong, who was at this
time living at Honolulu, and joined his party and family for
good and all when they continued their voyage on from thence.