Part 1

MASTERPIECES IN COLOUR

EDITED BY--T. LEMAN HARE

MILLAIS

1829--1896

"MASTERPIECES IN COLOUR" SERIES

ARTIST. AUTHOR. BELLINI. GEORGE HAY. BOTTICELLI. HENRY B. BINNS. BOUCHER. C. HALDANE MACFALL. BURNE-JONES. A. LYS BALDRY. CARLO DOLCI. GEORGE HAY. CHARDIN. PAUL G. KONODY. CONSTABLE. C. LEWIS HIND. COROT. SIDNEY ALLNUTT. DA VINCI. M. W. BROCKWELL. DELACROIX. PAUL G. KONODY. DÜRER. H. E. A. FURST. FRA ANGELICO. JAMES MASON. FRA FILIPPO LIPPI. PAUL G. KONODY. FRAGONARD. C. HALDANE MACFALL. FRANZ HALS. EDGCUMBE STALEY. GAINSBOROUGH. MAX ROTHSCHILD. GREUZE. ALYS EYRE MACKLIN. HOGARTH. C. LEWIS HIND. HOLBEIN. S. L. BENSUSAN. HOLMAN HUNT. MARY E. COLERIDGE. INGRES. A. J. FINBERG. LAWRENCE. S. L. BENSUSAN. LE BRUN, VIGÉE. C. HALDANE MACFALL. LEIGHTON. A. LYS BALDRY. LUINI. JAMES MASON. MANTEGNA. MRS. ARTHUR BELL. MEMLINC. W. H. J. & J. C. WEALE. MILLAIS. A. LYS BALDRY. MILLET. PERCY M. TURNER. MURILLO. S. L. BENSUSAN. PERUGINO. SELWYN BRINTON. RAEBURN. JAMES L. CAW. RAPHAEL. PAUL G. KONODY. REMBRANDT. JOSEF ISRAELS. REYNOLDS. S. L. BENSUSAN. ROMNEY. C. LEWIS HIND. ROSSETTI. LUCIEN PISSARRO. RUBENS. S. L. BENSUSAN. SARGENT. T. MARTIN WOOD. TINTORETTO. S. L. BENSUSAN. TITIAN. S. L. BENSUSAN. TURNER. C. LEWIS HIND. VAN DYCK. PERCY M. TURNER. VELAZQUEZ. S. L. BENSUSAN. WATTEAU. C. LEWIS HIND. WATTS. W. LOFTUS HARE. WHISTLER. T. MARTIN WOOD.

_Others in Preparation._

Millais

BY A. LYS BALDRY

ILLUSTRATED WITH EIGHT REPRODUCTIONS IN COLOUR

LONDON: T. C. & E. C. JACK

NEW YORK: FREDERICK A. STOKES CO.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Plate I. The Order of Release, 1746 Frontispiece At the Tate Gallery Page II. The Boyhood of Raleigh 14 At the Tate Gallery

III. The Knight Errant 24 At the Tate Gallery

IV. Autumn Leaves 34 At Manchester Art Gallery

V. Speak! Speak! 40 At the Tate Gallery

VI. The Vale of Rest 50 At the Tate Gallery

VII. Ophelia 60 At the Tate Gallery

VIII. The North-West Passage 70 At the Tate Gallery

As a record of some half century of brilliant activity, and of practically unbroken success, the life-story of John Everett Millais is in many respects unlike those which can be told about the majority of artists who have played great parts in the modern art world. He had none of the hard struggle for recognition, or of the fight against adverse circumstances, which have too often embittered the earlier years of men destined to take eventually the highest rank in their profession. Things went well with him from the first; he gained attention at an age when most painters have barely begun to make a bid for popularity, and his position was assured almost before he had arrived at man's estate. He owed some of his success, no doubt, to his attractive and vigorous personality, but it was due in far greater measure to the extraordinary powers which he manifested from the very outset of his career.

For there was something almost sensational in the manner of his development, in his unusual precocity, and in the youthful self-confidence which enabled him to take a prominent place among the leaders of artistic opinion while he was still little more than a boy. So early was the proof given that he possessed absolutely uncommon powers, that he was not more than nine years old when he began serious art training; and so evident even then was his destiny that this training was commenced on the advice of Sir Martin Archer Shee, the President of the Royal Academy, to whom the child's performances had been submitted by parents anxious for an expert opinion. The President's declaration when he saw these early efforts, that "nature had provided for the boy's success," was emphatic enough to dissipate any doubts there might have been whether or not young Millais was to be encouraged in his artistic inclinations; and that this emphasis was justified by subsequent results no one to-day can dispute.

The family from which Millais sprang was not one with any past record of art achievement. His ancestors were men of action and inclined rather to be fighters than students of the arts. They were Normans who had settled in Jersey, and had for several hundred years been counted among the more important landholders in that island, where at different times they held several estates. From these ancestors Millais derived his energetic temperament and that militant activity which enabled him in his career as an artist to triumph signally over established prejudices--the qualities which undoubtedly helped him to make his power felt even by the people who were most opposed to him.

He was born on June 8th, 1829, at Southampton, where his parents were temporarily living, but his earliest years were spent in Jersey. It was in 1835 that he began to show definitely his artistic inclinations; he was at Dinan then with his parents and he amused himself there by making sketches of the country and people with success so remarkable that even strangers did not hesitate to recognise him as a budding genius. Three years later this estimate was confirmed by Sir Martin Archer Shee, and the boy was then sent to work at the art school which Henry Sass carried on in Bloomsbury, a school which had at that time a considerable reputation as a training place for art students, and in which most of the early Victorian painters received their preliminary education.

Soon after he entered this school Millais gave a very striking proof of his precocious ability--he gained the silver medal of the Society of Arts for a drawing of the antique, and an amusing story is told of the sensation he created when he appeared at the prize-giving to receive his award. The Duke of Sussex was presiding at the meeting, and to his amazement, when the name of "Mr Millais" was called, a small child presented himself as the winner of the medal. To amazement succeeded admiration when a consultation with the officials of the Society proved that this boy of nine was really the successful competitor, and the presentation was received with great applause by the spectators of the scene.

After two years' work under Sass, with some study in the British Museum in addition, he was admitted into the schools of the Royal Academy, and, though his age then was only eleven, he began almost immediately to prove how well he could hold his own in this new sphere of activity. During the six years over which his studentship at the Academy extended he won every prize for which he competed, and carried off finally the gold medal for historical painting with a picture of "The Tribe of Benjamin Seizing the Daughters of Shiloh." This was in 1847; in the previous year he had made his first appearance as an exhibitor at the Academy with an ambitious composition, "Pizarro Seizing the Inca of Peru," which is now in the Victoria and Albert Museum. His most ambitious effort at this period was, however, the design, "The Widow Bestowing her Mite," which he produced in 1847 for the Westminster Hall competition, a vast canvas crowded with life-sized figures which was remarkable enough to have made the reputation of a far older and more experienced painter.

So far his progress had been without interruption. The rare brilliancy of his student career had gained him the fullest approval of his fellow-workers in art, and he was beginning his career as a producer with every prospect of becoming immediately one of the most popular artists of his time. Everything was in his favour; he had undeniable ability, good health, and an attractive personality, and he had proved in many ways that, young as he was, he could handle large undertakings with sound judgment and complete confidence. Yet, with what seemed to be his way smooth before him, he did not hesitate to risk his already assured position in the art world by setting himself openly in opposition to the opinions of practically all the men who were then counted as the leaders of his profession. That he knew what might be the penalty he would have to pay for this rebellion against the fashion of the moment can scarcely be doubted, but he was by nature too strenuous a fighter to be daunted by dangerous possibilities, and his convictions, once formed, were always too strong to yield to any considerations of expediency.

In 1848, he and two friends of about his own age, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, and William Holman Hunt, conceived the idea of making a practical protest against the inefficiency of the work which was being done by the more popular artists of the time. The three youths had come under the influence of Ford Madox Brown, who with splendid sincerity was labouring to realise an ideal based not upon fashion, but upon an earnest desire for truthful expression, and by his example they were induced to study a purer type of art than any they could see about them. For this purer art they turned to the works of the Italian Primitives, whose childlike unconventionality and unhesitating naturalism touched a responsive chord in the natures of these youths who still retained some of the simple faith in reality which is one of the charms of childhood. They decided that for the future they would base their own practice upon that of the early Italians, and that they would have none of the artificialities of the age in which they found themselves. Their resolve was a bold one, but the manner in which they proceeded to make it effective was bolder still.

They organised an association, the title of which, "The Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood," significantly asserted the nature of their artistic aims, and as the founders of this association they pledged themselves to seek the inspiration of their art in those Italian painters who had lived before Raphael was born, and whose sterling principles were abandoned by Raphael and his successors. To the three founders of the Brotherhood were joined two other painters, James Collinson, and F. G. Stephens, a sculptor, Thomas Woolner and Dante Gabriel Rossetti's brother, William Michael, who, being a writer, was given the office of secretary. The Brotherhood, so constituted, was formally inaugurated in the autumn of 1848, and the members at once set to work to prove by their acts the reality of their belief in the creed they had adopted.

The first fruits of the movement were seen in the following spring at the Academy where Millais, who was then, it must be remembered, not quite twenty, exhibited his "Lorenzo and Isabella," a picture striking in its originality and in its unusual power. What it implied was not, however, immediately realised by the public; that the manner of the painting made it very unlike those by which it was surrounded was generally recognised, but most people, if they thought about the matter at all, seem to have assumed that the painter had failed to bring himself into line with the art of his time through youthful inexperience rather than by deliberate intention. Time and practice, they considered, would correct such deficiencies in taste as were apparent in the "Lorenzo and Isabella," and when the lad had arrived at years of discretion he would be the first to see the necessity for amendment.

But the members of the Brotherhood, probably feeling that their initial effort had not produced quite the effect intended, took other steps to define their attitude. They started, in January 1850, a magazine called _The Germ_, which was proffered as the organ of the new movement. It was sufficiently uncompromising in its confession of faith, and neither its text nor its illustrations were wanting in clearness of statement. The magazine, indeed, was what it was intended to be, an open challenge to all the advocates of the old order of things; and as such it was taken by the people who saw it. It was only in existence for four months, but even in that short time it did its work thoroughly, and put an end to any doubts there were in the minds of art lovers and art workers concerning the meaning of Pre-Raphaelitism; thenceforward Millais and his friends had certainly no reason to complain of being ignored.

The attention which was given to the pictures they sent to the 1850 Academy exhibition was, however, by no means what they desired, though, doubtless, it must have been much what they expected. Millais exhibited a "Portrait of a Gentleman and his Grandchild," "Ferdinand Lured by Ariel," and "Christ in the House of His Parents"--better known as "The Carpenter's Shop"--and these visible embodiments of the principles laid down in _The Germ_ were received with an absolute storm of abuse. The audacity of the young painters who sought by works of this character to discredit the smug and artificial respectability of the art which was then in vogue excited the critics beyond control and brought forth a veritable orgie of virulent expostulation.

Millais, with his mind made up and his fighting instinct fully roused, was not the man to yield to clamour. He made no concessions, but, loyally supporting the policy of the Brotherhood, showed at the Academy in 1851 "The Woodman's Daughter," "Mariana in the Moated Grange," and "The Return of the Dove to the Ark," all of which were as frank in their Pre-Raphaelitism as any of the previous year's canvases, and all of which were greeted with even more vehement disapproval by the literary custodians of the popular taste. Every possible kind of misrepresentation of the aims of the young painter and his friends was employed to discredit their efforts, all sorts of base motives were imputed to them; ridicule, specious argument, and insult were used in turn to drive them from the course they had deliberately chosen. Appeals were even made to the Academy to have the pictures, round which this controversy was raging, removed summarily from the exhibition as things unfit to be set before the eyes of the public. But fortunately the courage of the Brotherhood was proof against everything which the opposition could do, and neither abuse nor threats had any effect. Yet Millais at the time suffered for his principles; paintings which had been commissioned were thrown upon his hands, and his pictures almost ceased to be saleable. He had every proof that his Pre-Raphaelitism was commercially a mistake and that, if he persisted, the absolute marring of his career as a popular painter, was more than likely, yet, so stubborn was his conviction that he made no change in either his principles or his practice.

Happily, as time went on, the position of affairs began to improve; the opposition exhausted itself by excess of violence, and able champions of the movement took up the cudgels in defence of the young artists. One of the most authoritative of these champions was Ruskin, who found in this apparently forlorn hope infinite possibilities of artistic progress, and whose declaration that the Pre-Raphaelites were laying "the foundations of a school of art nobler than the world has seen for three hundred years" generously expressed his sentiments towards the Brotherhood. He took the trouble to study their art, and to analyse their motives, so that he based his advocacy not upon vague sympathy but upon real understanding of artistic principles which were sane and sound enough to satisfy even his exacting demand for purity of æsthetic purpose. That the ultimate success of Pre-Raphaelitism was due to his energetic interposition cannot, of course, be claimed--the boldness and tenacity of the artists who had adopted the new creed had more to do with the improvement which was brought about in the popular attitude--but Ruskin's counter attack upon the critics had a valuable effect, and undoubtedly helped greatly to open the eyes of the public.

It is interesting, too, to note that just at the moment when the attack was fiercest the Royal Academy showed its faith in Millais by electing him an Associate. He is said to have been the youngest student ever received into the Academy schools, and he must have been one of the youngest painters ever chosen as an Associate, for after his election it was discovered that he had not reached the age at which, under the Academy rules, admission to the Associateship was possible. So his election had to be declared invalid and he had to wait some few years longer--until 1853--for the official recognition of his claims. But it must assuredly be counted to the credit of the Academy that such readiness should have been shown to admit the ability of a young artist who was openly in rebellion against the fashions of his time, and whose work was by implication a condemnation of much that was being done even by members of the Academic circle.

His election in 1853 came more as a matter of course; by that date he had won his way to a position which could scarcely be questioned even by the bitterest opponents of Pre-Raphaelitism, and he had laid securely the foundations of that remarkable popularity which he was destined to enjoy for the rest of his life. It would have been hard, indeed, to deny that he deserved whatever rewards were due to artistic merit of the highest order, for his pictures had passed well beyond the stage of brilliant promise into that of commanding achievement. His "Ophelia" and "The Huguenot" in 1852, his "Order of Release" and "The Proscribed Royalist" in 1853, and his exquisite "Portrait of Mr. Ruskin" in 1854, are to be accounted as masterly performances which would have done full credit to a painter whose skill had been matured by more than half a lifetime of strenuous effort, and which, as the productions of a young man who did not reach his twenty-fifth birthday until the summer of 1854, are of really extraordinary importance. The "Ophelia," "The Huguenot," and "The Order of Release," can be placed, indeed, among the most memorable expositions of his artistic conviction, and the "Portrait of Mr. Ruskin" ranks with the "Ophelia" as one of the most astonishing examples of searching and faithful study which can be found in modern art.

These pictures were followed closely by others not less notable--by "The Rescue" in 1855, by "Autumn Leaves," "The Random Shot," "The Blind Girl," and "Peace Concluded," in 1856, and by "Sir Isumbras at the Ford," "The Escape of a Heretic," and "News from Home," in 1857. Of this group "Sir Isumbras at the Ford" was the least successful, but "Autumn Leaves," with its exquisite delicacy of sentiment, and those two delightful little canvases, "The Blind Girl," and "The Random Shot," are of supreme interest both on account of the depth of thought which they reveal and of their splendid executive accomplishment.

Another great picture appeared in 1859--"The Vale of Rest," which differed from most of the works which Millais had hitherto produced in its larger qualities of handling and more serious symbolism. Its special importance was not fully realised by the artist's admirers when it was first exhibited, but Millais himself looked upon it as the best thing he had done; and this opinion has since been generally recognised as sufficiently well founded. He had not before shown so much solemnity of feeling nor quite so complete a grasp of the larger pictorial essentials, though in "Autumn Leaves" there was decidedly more than a hint of the seriousness of purpose which gave authority and dignity of style to "The Vale of Rest."