Female School of Design
Charles Dickens
THE FEMALE SCHOOL OF DESIGN IN THE CAPITAL OF THE WORLD
MR. JOHN MOTLEY is an extensive manufacturer of woollen shawls and table-covers. All British manufacturers of similar articles are not like Mr. John Motley, we are extremely happy to say; but both history and justice compel us to state, that the family of the Motleys is a very large one, comprising many members and branches, all following the same trade, and including the Patchmans and the Stairings, great manufacturers of chintzes and printed cottons; and the Squabtons, who monopolise half the trade in crockery and hardware.
Mr. John Motley has gone on pretty much in the same way all his life, i.e., in the same way as his father before him, who also followed in the steps of his father and grandfather. The necessities of change of some kind, which he called fashion, compelled him to adopt corresponding changes, which he called patterns, and sometimes, by way of irony, designs. Very frequently he adopted novelties from the continental manufacturers, but always altered them to his own taste—the regular old family taste of the Motleys; so that, in truth, there was no real adoption of a continental design, but merely a fresh impulse and enlivenment given to the native stock. Mr. John Motley, like all the rest of his family, considered that he thoroughly understood the English taste; that his own taste was the model and criterion of public taste—in fact, that the two things were identical. He had been successful—had raised a fortune, and was still accumulating; and what better proof could anybody have of the correctness of his judgment and method of conducting business. Besides, he used to add, with a knowing wink, they must buy our goods, because they can't get any others—the duty on foreign articles giving us a monopoly of the home market. Very proper it should. It protects our property, and the family taste.
Year after year, the successful John Motley sent forth his countless bales of shawls and table-covers, with great vulgar patterns, dabbed, sprawling, or conglomerating, over a gaudy ground—the colours of which were not only inharmonious with those of the patterns, but a violent outrage to all harmony. If he is ever reproached with a want of novelty, or a want of beauty in his patterns, by some strange and particular fellow among his wholesale customers—a thing that does now and then reach his ears—he merely replies, with dogged indifference, "You see, there's a want of invention in the country—we have no designers; so, we do the best we can. Take 'em or leave 'em."
In a similar course, and with like success, have the various branches of the Motley family proceeded. The Patchmans, and the Stairings have all most rigorously followed in the old system of eschewing all real novelties of any beauty and elegance, and insisting upon their own taste as the taste of the public; till at length the public, by the force of long habit has, in the mass, come to believe them, and adopted most of the new patterns—whether of gaudiness, dulness, heaviness, meanness, vulgarity, or confusion—which they have sent forth to the world. The Squabtons, with all their vast producing power in the shape of hardware articles of domestic use and necessity, have sedulously adhered to the family maxim of "stick to the old models" as long as possible, and by way of novelties "ring the changes" upon them only. Hence our dummy jugs, and mugs, and jars, and candlesticks, and vases, and other articles of the home produce. If you see among them any one shape of an elegance that instantly attracts the eye, you find it is double the price, even when of the same material, and not needing more labour in the workmanship than a dummy article—provided there has not been a resistance, or a wilful stupidity in opposition to any real improvement in taste—for this article is from a foreign model. Had it been actually a foreign article for which a duty had been paid, there would be some reason for the double price; but this is simply a copy and adoption, and the high price is therefore of no necessity, but simply in order to hold in check all taste for articles of similar elegance or grace. Mr. Squabton does not approve of them. He only admits them into his show-rooms, because it looks well to have all sorts. But they do not please the habitual Squabton eye. He therefore assumes that they would not meet the public taste; or, if they did, the
public ought not to be encouraged to buy such things—and shall not, as long as he can prevent it.
I have said that all manufacturers were not alike, and that there were honourable exceptions who looked on the existing state of things with very different eyes from those just mentioned. Though comparatively a young man—in fact a junior partner—I trust I may be allowed to include myself among the exceptions. I really do wish to see an improvement in the taste of all designs for the useful arts; and I believe the time is not far distant when manufacturers will more generally perceive the importance of encouraging such designs by all the means in their power. If nothing else will teach them, the results of the forthcoming Great Exposition will do so, as it will make them alive to their own interests by demonstrations of the most effectual kind. The public taste is likely to undergo a rapid revolution in many articles combining beauty of design with domestic utility, that's my opinion; and then where are the producers? and what will become of all the bales, and piles, and stacks of the perverse old stock?
I heard a great Manchester manufacturer lamenting, only a few days ago, the want of new and good designers in our own country. I told him I had been informed that there were two Schools of Design in London—a male school, and a female school—where the students continually produced first-rate designs. He said he had never been there, nor seen any of their designs, that he knew of; and again lamented the want of new patterns. Another, a great ribbon manufacturer of my acquaintance—in fact, he married my aunt—expends at least a thousand a year in getting foreign designs, and he has never once taken a design from any of these Schools. When I told him I had seen good things that came from them, he looked incredulous and vacant, and said that I was young in the business. Not a word about going to see them, or sending up for a few specimens. Another great manufacturer, with whom our firm often has large dealings, dined with us last week. He knew of these Schools, and showed us a beautiful design for a carpet which he had obtained from one of them, in which the colours were all finely harmonised. "It will sell very well," said he, "after I have altered it a little to my own taste." "Why, what will you do to it?" I inquired. "I must vulgarise it," said he, touching my elbow; "where they have put grey, I shall put scarlet; and where you see purple here, I shall put green and yellow, or such like." Another manufacturer, whose warehouse I was visiting only the other day, showed me a table cover of a most chaste and handsome design—a broad, rich, gothic border, with a dark centre quite plain, which of course made the deep border look all the richer. "This is very good," said he, "but we always like something catching in the centre. I shall have a good bunch of peony roses and tulips, or something of that sort, for the middle."
These rebuffs, however, added to the excellence of several designs I had seen, which had come both from the male and female schools, determined me to go to London forthwith and visit them. It is only justice to say that I did this with the full approval and, indeed, the wish, of my senior partners.
During the journey by rail, I thought very much about these Schools—and especially the Female School, as it seemed to me to include many questions of social interest, which one now so often sees discussed in periodicals, and even in newspapers. Many of these young persons, thought I, are, no doubt, of highly respectable families, well educated, and who once had very different expectations; though now, for the purpose of making designs, they are learning drawing, perhaps, to sell them—perhaps that they may become teachers—but in all cases to help some scanty income at home. Perhaps, also some of them are orphans. But the Government takes charge of them. As the manufacturers have not yet learnt the importance of supporting these Schools, by employing some of the students, or making selections from their designs, a paternal Government has kindly and wisely taken charge of these industrious and praiseworthy young women.
I therefore determined to make my first visit to the Female School, and accordingly betook myself straight to Somerset House. I should premise that I have, myself, a good general knowledge of drawing, and though unfortunately, I have no original genius for designing patterns for my own business, I once had considerable practise in copying both from prints and casts—the "flat," and the "round," as artists call it.
Arrived at Somerset House, I was informed that the Female School of Design was no longer there. "Gone!" said I.
"Aye—removed to over the way."
I was staggered for a moment at this. I feared that a paternal Government had withdrawn the shadow of its fostering wings from those most needing protection.
"But is it not still," said I, " a Government Institution—is it not still under the protection——"
"Yes—yes—all right—over the way;" and the porter closed the door.
I breathed again; my fears for the poor girls were allayed, and I accordingly began to look up and down at the fronts of the houses over the way—that is, opposite to Somerset House. I thought I knew the "Strand" pretty well; but I could not recollect any house over the way of a kind, at all resembling the house of a Government Institution. Nor, strange to say, did looking up and down, at all help me. The more I looked, the less I could discover of any such house—or one likely to be it. In fact, I speedily came to the conviction that "over the way" meant a considerable way up or down the Strand, on the opposite side; and accordingly I crossed over, and began to walk along, staring up at every house I passed. No external signs assisted me in the least, and I arrived at the crossing leading to Holywell Street. I then turned back, and proceeded, staring up in the same way, till again I found myself at the crossing of Catherine Street. Being now fairly at fault, I went into a shop arid inquired. They knew nothing about it. Then into another—and luckily they did seem to know of such a place, and informed me that "it was at one of the soap and sponge-shops" they did'nt know which.
I was a little surprised at this, but attributed it to the ignorance of the speaker, and was glad at last to have got a clue. Thus directed, I singled out a shop of this kind, and on the left hand side of a door-way leading up a very narrow passage, I saw written up "Female Classes of the Government School of Design," rather small, on a convex board, and half slipping round a corner as if ashamed of itself. No wonder I had not observed it in passing. If I had seen the board, I should have taken it for one of the cheap dentist and cuppers' boards.
Up this narrow passage I walked. It was scarcely four feet wide, and very dark. I admit that the day was extremely bad and foggy. At any rate, it was so dark, and with so little indication of an entrance to a "School,"— unless, indeed, to some poor "Evening School" in the country, or a "Ragged School" in London, that I walked right out at the other end, and found myself in a strange-looking court, which proved to be the entrance to a soap-manufactory. Here I was again obliged to inquire, and was directed back again into the narrow passage; and here I came to a perfectly dark side-door, which I had passed on my way, and now by straining my eyes, I contrived to read the word "School;" for the rest, if anything, I positively could not distinguish; and I will defy you, reader, to see much clearer, even after all the directions I have given, if you go on any day at all foggy or dusky, many of which I believe you Londoners are quite accustomed to. "Queer place enough," thought I, "for a paternal Government to establish a number of young ladies in." The knocker refusing to move, I fumbled out a bell-handle—pulled—and was admitted.
Having made known to Mrs. Mc Ian—the lady superintending the school—that I was a manufacturer, and a partner in an influential firm, I received a polite attention, and was conducted into the largest of the rooms appropriated to the students.
This room was the first-floor front, exactly over the shop below. It could not have been above eleven or twelve feet high. I do not know how many students were there; but the room was full to crowding. They were packed close together on forms, just like children at a Sunday School, in our manufacturing towns. The elbows, and, in some cases, the shoulders of one student touching those of her next door neighbours, on each side. The drawing desks, or stands, with the forms, were arranged in rows across the room, and so closely that to pass along between was not possible without frequently scraping oneself against the desk behind, or causing the student in front to bend and pack herself forward against her own drawing-board. This was the junior class. They were copying from the "flat" and the "round," (prints or drawings, and bas-reliefs); but, though it was only two o'clock, the light was so bad, owing to the fog, and the dusty, uncleaned windows, that to distinguish anything accurately was out of the question. I asked a student why they did not have drawing-lamps, but was informed that none were allowed. By bending down, with a close scrutiny, to the drawings of two or three of those nearest the windows, I could see that they were very well done; and the copies of several of the casts of scrollwork, flowers, and fruit, in high relief, were excellent. In the imperfect light, the drawings really looked almost as tangible and round as the casts themselves. Some drew in chalk, and some painted in oil, some in water-colour; but the majority painted in what is called tempera, or body colour, and of the same kind in which Cartoons are painted. Though the fire was small, the room was very hot and close, and there was no sort of provision for ventilation.
In the back room, on the second floor, which was much smaller, there was similar crowding, and with greater injury, as the higher class of students were here; and these, frequently having large designs, were continually in each other's way. For a young lady to have a blow on the cheek, or the side of her head, from the corner of a wooden-frame—an easel to be upset—a cast knocked down—a freshly-painted design smeared across, or a hole knocked in a canvas, were things of almost every-day occurrence. One of these rents in a design for a carpet, and half finished, I myself saw. The hole was so large I could have crept through it; and on this very day of my visit, a valuable porcelain vase has been knocked down and broken, sheerly from the impossibility of any one being able to move without jostling somebody or something. Here also, the room was very hot and close—nothing in the shape of ventilation.
Impossible as it was, from the state of the atmosphere, added to the extreme dirtiness of the windows, all crusted over, as they were, with London dust and smuts, to judge well of colours, in themselves, I could yet see that the best had been selected, and the best harmonies employed. I here saw designs for table-covers, chintz, ladies' muslin, or other figured dresses, groups of flowers, fruit, carpets, paper-hangings, models in clay and wax, &c. The designs were handsome, beautiful, chaste, and original, and would do any English manufacturer's heart good to see them, if he only had the good sense to set a just value on the advantage of finding such things close to hand in his own country.
The two attics above are arranged in the same way as the rooms on the second floor, the senior students being packed in the little back room, while the junior are in the larger room in front. These rooms are only eight feet high. In the front attic there are twenty students. The oppressive atmosphere was scarcely endurable on first entering. No ventilation whatever had been provided. It reminded me of what we read of the "sweating system" among the poor journeymen tailors.
The principal designs in the attics were similar to those below, viz., for carpets, rugs, skreens, ladies' dresses, table covers, lace handkerchiefs, ribbons, shawls, &c., and I am quite sure, from the excellence displayed in many of them, that the instructions and assiduity of Mrs. M'Ian must be of the highest order. The day being so very dark, I took my leave, proposing to make another visit when the light should be favourable.
This School has now been established eight years, and comprises seventy students. Considering that the majority of them on first entering the School could not draw at all, and had to be instructed in the first rudiments, the progress displayed by so many confers the greatest credit upon their instructor. The merits of this institution ought to be much better known than they are, and the example should be followed in the provinces. It is surprising how few such Schools exist in England, or in any other country. There has been one only in Paris during these many years (I mean, a Female School) but this is not properly a School of Design, and is simply a drawing-school, where they chiefly copy prints, and seldom draw from the "round." A similar school, however, to the present, has been established by a lady in Philadelphia, who wrote to Mrs. M'Ian for information as to the methods and general routine adopted. Besides the advantages of such a school to the manufacturer, it is evidently an excellent thing to society to provide such a means for rendering young women able to obtain an honourable independence, and it also supersedes the necessity for engaging male teachers of drawing in ladies' schools, which has often been found very objectionable, if not injurious.
A bright sunny morning happening to favour the Metropolis a day or two after, I renewed my visit to the Government School, over the sponge and soap shop. I made no doubt but I should now see all the drawings and designs .to the greatest advantage, at least, so far as light was concerned. The fostering shop—itself a very good one, and perfectly respectable, though a strange place for a Government Institute—looked bright and well-to-do, and the side passage was several shades less dark, though still very gloomy, and exactly like the entrance to a wine merchant's office and cellarage.
In my anticipations I was not deceived. Though there was no room to see any large designs to advantage—the eye being within a foot or two of the specimens, and to step back a pace or two from them being impossible in the room of the senior students—the grace and variety of the designs, and the beauty of the colouring, were on this occasion very apparent. But how was it that the two front rooms—the largest by far—had been appropriated to the beginners and junior classes, while the senior students were thus packed in pens and cribs—back second-floors of only nine-and-a-half feet high, and back attics of only eight feet high by eleven feet in width? The elucidation of this, I regret to say, does not place the wisdom and care of a paternal Government in the highest light, even so far as a knowledge of drawing is concerned.
When there happens to be a bright morning, the very strength of the light in the larger rooms, renders them the more unsuitable for students in drawing—the windows being precisely in the wrong aspect. When the sun shines in these front rooms, the shadow from one student's head darkens fitfully, or in moving shades, the drawing-board of the student next on the other side—and so on, all down the rows across the room. The process of making a copy from a cast, or other model, throwing its own variable shadow, is also rendered most painful and perplexing to a young student,—because a drawing that is correct in light and shade at one period, becomes incorrect in the next quarter of an hour—the cast or model, in the advance of the light, having undergone a corresponding change in its shadows. Hence, all young students who are copying intricate and difficult reliefs, continually find themselves hopelessly thrown out, and reduced to despair.
Now, this is very surprising—inexplicable to any plain man like myself. For are there not two or three Royal Academicians connected with the Board of Trade, and do they never remonstrate with the honourable and learned Board? Moreover, there is a lady, as Directress of the School, who is an accomplished artist. Why does not Mrs. M'Ian complain loudly of all this to the Board of Trade, or to somebody high in office? Is Mrs. M'Ian afraid a paternal Government will "bite her head off," if she dares to open her mouth!
The fires in the rooms are all kept low, yet to-day being a bright day, the heat and oppressiveness of the atmosphere is scarcely to be endured. In the back pens, where the senior students are packed together, the air is half suffocating—and see! there is poor Miss * * * carried out fainting. This, the students inform me, is not at all an uncommon occurrence. The chimney, too, is smoking! This, they tell me is also common, and invariable whenever coals are put on; so that they are either obliged to open a window, and risk a bad cold after being in a vapour bath, or else sit in the midst of the cloud to the injury of their eyes, their breathing, and often to the destruction of any delicate tints they are laying in upon their painting. Many of them suffer headache, pains across the eyes, in the throat, sickness and dizziness. One student told me she never was free from headache during the whole six hours she was daily at work. They would account a ventilator as a great blessing, so much do they need a breath of fresh air. Surely a paternal Government might spare (out of a Surplus) two-and-sixpence, to set a whirligig ventilator to spin a little vital air through a hole in the wall at the top of each of these rooms, where industrious young women are seeking to acquire the means of assisting their families, and of gaining an honourable and useful independence for themselves in future life.
This Female School of Design which had originally been established in Somerset House, was removed from those quarters by a petition, which set forth the want of adequate room.
"Very well;" said the courteous Board of Trade, "Oh, certainly! We'll attend to your wish."
The School was accordingly removed to "over the way!" This looks very like saying inwardly, "I'll give you enough of petitioning for a move."
Without doubt the students are right in saying that the old room in Somerset House was far better. It was large—though not large enough—and they had a proper aspect as to the light. These present rooms are said to be only temporary; but as "temporary" so often means, with the Government, a very long and a very indefinite period, it has been suggested that the School should be moved back to Somerset House meanwhile. But the distressed Board of Trade says there's no room there, now. They can't find four or five spare rooms in all Somerset House —the great building is so full! How very much I should like to see a statement of how all the innumerable rooms in this great quadrangle of great houses are filled. I wonder whether anybody lives there!
Can nobody suggest to the Board of Trade, some place with a proper light, where there is at least one good large room for these female students? The importance of a large room, besides the advantage of light and air, is very great. A number of students can stand round and see the instructor paint, or give a special lesson to a pupil, from which others may equally benefit. Besides this, there is a great advantage in students seeing each other work; they learn from each other, and it also excites emulation. Can no such room be found in all this vast metropolis, where so many splendid public and private edifices and buildings exist? If Mr. Labouchere would but intercede in a high quarter, so that this most praiseworthy School of Design might be located in one of the light, airy, and beautiful stables now building for the Prince of Wales, that would be just the thing, both in itself, and in the quiet refinement of its locality.
But, as for the present rooms, I need not state —as the fact must be obvious to all—that if a paternal Government had studied to select one of the worst possible places for such a school, they could not have more completely succeeded. In points of art, and as a place of study, I have described what it is, without exaggeration; and as to the suitability of its locality for respectable young females, I may also venture to state—with no power to use any exaggeration that can surpass the fact—that it is in the close vicinity of several gin-shops, pawn-shops, old rag and rascality shops, in some of the worst courts and alleys of London, and in a direct line with two narrow streets, which, as disgraces, cannot be surpassed by the worst quarter of any metropolis in the world.
I leave London to-night by the express train, and shall present myself before my partners tomorrow morning in the warehouse, with uplifted hands and eyes; but I'm quite sure our firm will speedily avail itself of some of the designs of those industrious young ladies.