I find this painting of Queen Hortense under a pergola in Aix-les-Bains (1813) by Antoine-Jean Duclaux arresting on many levels. As a lover of the Regency era, the scene and its occupant are an embodiment of my romantic ideas about the era. I don’t care whether art critics regard the work as great or minor – there’s something about the quality of light (is it sunrise or is it the hour of the golden light – just before sunset?) … the solitary position of the sitter, whose back is turned to us … the beautiful clothes and scenery … the lively dog with a tail that bookends the feathers to the hat at right.
La reine Hortense sous une tonnelle à Aix-les-Bains (1813) by Antoine Jean Duclaux. Credits © Napoleonmuseum, Thurgau, Switzerland
In 1813 the Napoleonic Wars were still raging on the Continent. British tourism to Europe had halted. Before the wars, the Grand Tour was a requirement for a young heir. Many rich girls and their chaperons also paid homage to France, Greece, and Italy, taking in the culture and fashions and bringing back objects d’art with Neoclassical influences. All of that had halted. Starved of Parisian influence, British fashions had begun to look to English history for influences and British and French fashions had begun to diverge.
This scene is quiet, almost elegiac. I wanted to write about my own response to the painting before looking up any information on it and am glad I did. It seems that just before she sat for this portrait, Queen Hortense, who is Josephine de Beauharnais’s daughter, had just lost her good friend, Adèle de Broc, who had drowned in front of her:
on 10 June, the two ladies went for a stroll near the Grésy waterfall. “I went first, the board was unsteady. I turned around: Good Lord! What a terrible sight! My friend, taken away by the current, had disappeared from view… Her lifeless body was retrieved […] She was no more! What despair! Once again I found myself more alone than ever, without my friend who had helped me through all my hardships!” – Napoleon.org
In an effort to assuage Hortense’s grief, the painter François Fleury Richard was summoned. He arrived with his pupil, Atoine-Jean Duclaux, and while the master sketched the young queen playing music, the student painted the lady from behind. Duclaux had just turned thirty when he painted Hortense. His family had been driven out of Lyonnais during the terror to Burgundy, where the family lived on charity. In his youth he knew terror and the harsh realities of the guillotine. The painter’s early background and his knowledge of Hortense’s grief add to my enjoyment of this painting.
Hortense sits in shadow under a dark and oppressive roof, but she is bathed in golden light – a sign of hope? The little dog is there to comfort her or to draw attention away from her reverie and sad thoughts. “Here I am,” he seems to say, “notice me. ” Dogs in art mean fidelity and loyalty. They have also been associated with death and as guardians of the Other World, assuring us safe passage to the other side. Ostrich feathers, while quite a fashionable adornment during this era, are also symbols of truth in Egyptian art. It is interesting to see how the feathers are given the same visual weight as the dog’s tail. reaction to it.
One more thing: Hortense’s pose reminds me of my favorite view of Jane Austen, painted by her sister, Cassandra. It, too, is taken from behind. I love the mystery of both positions.
Jane Austen by Cassandra
I am curious to know your thoughts about this painting and its many layers of visual enjoyment and interpretation.
Click on image.
Unusual not to see the sitter’s face; intriguing. As for the Jane Austen portrait by Cassandra it is very relaxed if she has her dressed pulled up and is showing that much of her petticoat. I wanted to make this outfit but think it may be beyond my capabilities right now!
Not only are both women turned away from the viewer, they both wear over dresses. I think that Jane’s petticoat peeps under her white muslin underdress, but I could be wrong!
I think Jane’s probably wearing a pelisse with a muslin gown rather than an overdress, as she’s outside during the day.
The water in the background makes me wonder
whether she is looking towards the scene of the tragedy?
Good observation. Or perhaps the water represents the divide between the corporal world and spiritual world, where her friend’s soul now dwells.
It’s a very pretty scene. I wondered first which lake and what building that is in the distance. The dress is lovely and the backstory is really fascinating. I imagine her husband wasn’t much solace, as I read they didn’t get along.
The empty chair is also symbolic of someone missing. The painting is evocative even without knowing the back story, but the story adds poignancy.
My thinking is that the red cloak symbolizes the human, corporal world. Blue in paintings is often regarded as a spiritual color. Hortense is gazing at the distant blue mountains – there’s more to this painting than first meets the eye.
The first painting is very sad, considering how limited a woman’s social circle could be. It makes you wonder if she ever had another confidante, especially if the marriage had difficulties.
That portrait of Jane always makes me think of a rather elaborate Sunbonnet Sue.
More illustrations in this book:
Napoleon and the Empire of Fashion: 1795-1815
A lovely, sad painting. If she is actually at Aix-les-Bains, the lake she is looking at runs north to south, and the town is to the east of the southern portion of the lake. To the north is a large mountain running east to west. Therefore, I surmise that it is afternoon, and the sun is moving towards sunset.
The view is somewhat similar along the southern portion Gardasee (Lake Garda), in Italy, and the sun does something similar as it sinks towards the hills (mountains at the upper end) to the west. The light is rather hazy and rich in the lower lake valley.
The Garda view immediately came to mind when I saw the painting, so I looked up Aix-les-Bains on Google Maps (how prosaic).
Very best,
Natalie
the points on her dress remind me of a previous article you wrote about them. how we are able to connect so many things.i wonder if the plants are also important
I like the Cassandra picture. Hortense interested me enough to google up some information about her – she seems to have led a rather sad life, not helped by her habit of accidentally having babies that didn’t come from either of her husbands. No wonder she looks pensive.