I'm not sure if it's because I'm in a bleak frame of mind, attempting to finally upload and sort the final bits of Stunner 2.0 (so damn close now, it's not funny) but I have picked the subject of 'Widows' for today's blog. I think it all started when I saw this rather jolly image of Queen Victoria...
Never one to be over dramatic, obviously, here we have Queen Vic and Princess Alice, having a jolly good mourn. When Albert died in 1861, shortly after her mother's death, Victoria retreated into black and solitude, a state that she only partially returned from during the remainder of her long reign. Much was made of her absence, how inappropriate it was for the Queen to plunge so greatly and so privately into sorrow. Yet, in her actions Queen Victoria was being as Victorian as it's possible to be...
|
The Widow (1899) Ralph Hedley |
If you type 'Widow' into Bridgeman Art Collection or the BBC's Your Paintings, you will find a wealth of images of ladies in black, mostly bending like gothic willows in church. Take our lady above: she is both praying and crying, clutching her handkerchief and contemplating the loss of her husband. The date of the loss is rarely obvious, but in terms of depictions of, and actual, grief, yesterday is the same as decades ago. He is gone and the widow is still a folded offering to grief in his absence.
|
In Church James Tissot |
Widows are depicted as elegant creatures, handkerchief at hand, like this beautiful specimen by Tissot. Mind you, what can you expect from Tissot? It all gets gorgeous under Tissot's brush, and this has to be one of my favourite pictures in Southampton Art Gallery. Gosh, I like Southampton's Art Gallery, but I'll talk about that at the weekend. Anyway, back to misery...
|
A Widow's Mite (1870) J E Millais |
I think it's interesting that the term 'Widow's Mite', which refers to the same amount traditionally afforded by widows to charity, also implies to their 'might' or strength. The widow in the Bible (from where the term originates) gave a greater proportion of her money to help others than the rich man, despite it being a small sum, or a 'mite'. It speaks of their ability to survive their sorrow enough to think of others, to remain hopeful in the face of devastation. Millais' Widow has the look of dignity as she gives her small, but significant sum to those worse off than herself. It is a Victorian recognition of thinking of others before yourself. Or is that the Brownies? Probably both. Being a good Victorian probably involved doing a good deed every day and doing your duty to God too. The Baden Powells were obviously very good Victorians indeed. But I digress...
|
At the Pawnbroker Thomas Reynolds Lamont |
Being a Victorian Widow seemed to be very harsh, and no wonder. The man of the house has gone, and if you have no discernible money-making skills then it's off down the pawn shop for you to see how much you can get for your eldest child. In the case of the poor lady above, it's her dead husband's watch that's being pawned. We stand behind the pawnbroker and can see that every nook and cranny of his shop is stuffed with pawned trifles such as this watch. It makes you wonder how many more grieving, desperate women have stood in front of him crying, and how he grows plump on their misfortune. Oh well, he doesn't seem bothered...
|
Widowed and Fatherless (1874) Leon Perrault |
There is a definite seam of images to be mined of young mothers, suddenly swathed in black. These rather beautiful young women are often accompanied with cherubic-cheeked daughters looking shell-shocked and fragile, or little gentlemen, carbon-copies of their fathers, stiff-upper-lips in readiness. If you think about it, when considering mortality in Victorian times, I'm more likely to think of a woman popping off in childbirth, yet there are countless images of young mothers, deprived of their husbands. If I was a cynical creature, I might suggest that a widow is a perfect opportunity to show a woman on the edge, a damsel in distress, especially if you consider how many of these women in black are remarkably attractive....
|
Olivia Edmund Blair Leighton |
These women are young, attractive and on the look-out for a new man. I feel a Saturday night game show coming on. Anyway, she's short of money and desperate, so is unlikely to be picky...
|
The Lure John Byam Liston Shaw |
Heavens, this young lady's husband is barely cold in the ground and she's got a glimpse of naughty cupid. Really, women are so fickle, it's outrageous. No wonder she has to pawn that watch. Young widows seem to be a suspicious bunch, grieving one minute, chasing gents the next. You're far safer with a nice old lady...
|
Mrs St George Rich (1920) Madeline Macdonald |
Out of the countless old women in black I could have picked, I chose Mrs St George Rich. Granted she's a little later than I normally stray, but look at that face, you wouldn't mess with her. Mr Walker says she reminds him of Professor McGonagall from
Harry Potter. I love the veil and the rings, she has dignity and power, despite her position. In the case of the young women, there is a hint that their beauty would go to waste if they didn't marry again, safety would only lie in the arms of another man. However, the position of the old widow, the dowager, is assured if she has a son or some wealth. Mrs St George Rich doesn't look worried about the future. The only thing she needs to worry about is whether her mantilla stays put.
I'll be off to think cheerier thoughts and wrestle with uploading Stunner 2.0. It might take some time...
Great post but I think Victoria almost went insane, can't believe most widows carried on like that.
ReplyDeleteI'm guessing most widows couldn't afford to behave like that, whether they wanted to or not. The irony was that by crumbling without her husband, Victoria was conforming to a perfection of womanhood, despite being one of the most powerful people on the planet and a woman to boot.
ReplyDeleteQueen Victoria's excessive mourning for Albert was beautifully described by Elizabeth Longford as " a twenty year sulk with the Almighty"!
ReplyDelete