#Elizabeth Barret Browning

[larissa-the-scribe]

Poem recommendation I guess?

I recently read The Sleep by Elizabeth Barret Browning, and there was something so nice about the imagery and building from the verse of "He giveth His beloved sleep." I never thought much about it, but she makes it sound so kind and peaceful.

[quotesofcriminalminds]

Measure not the work until the day is out and the labor done.

Elizabeth Barret Browning

[the-jujuman]

How do I love thee? by Elizabeth Barret Browning

A close reading of Elizabeth Barret Browning’s 1891 poem titled, “How do I love thee?”  reveals that it is also constant, boundless, and eternal. This paper would argue that Browning’s poem is a reckoning of the attributes of true love. The poem, “How do I love thee is a petrachan sonnet made up of the traditional 14 lines divided into two sections of rhyming octave and sestet, with ABBA ABBA…

[preacherman316]

Word of the Week: Love

Word of the Week: Love

Recently I read a story about a 78 year old lady, Aleida Huissen, from Rotterdam, Netherlands, who had been smoking for 50 years. And for 50 years she’s been trying to quit. Every attempt failed, until… Until Leo Jansen entered the picture. The 79 year old proposed marriage with one condition. Aleida had to quit smoking. (more…)

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Nothing has made me interested in reading romantic British poetry as seeing the use Gaskell makes of it in her works.

[pirateacademia]

Sonnets from the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barret Browning (1850)

[inawickedlittletown]

How Do I Love Thee (BuckTommy) - one-shot

Summary: A sweet moment between Buck and Tommy where Buck gets to tell Tommy what he likes about him.

BuckTommy Positivity Week Day 1: what they love most about each other.

Rated: G

Words: 1.3k

Notes: Title comes from the poem of the same title by Elizabeth Barret Browning, the beginning of which is quoted below:

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace."

@bucktommypositivityweek

-

Read on Ao3

Fingers traced a line on Tommy’s back. It felt like the ghost of a touch, but he was so attuned to Evan that it didn’t matter how gentle the finger went or how it barely even touched his skin. 

“Hmm, I love how I could just play connect the dots with your back,” Evan said, voice low and warm. 

“What are you drawing back there, then?” 

“Stars. Stick figures. I’m not a very good artist.” 

Tommy laughed and he felt Evan drop his head to Tommy’s back, laughing as well. Laughs turned to kisses soon enough, a trail of them going up his shoulder and to his neck, Evan pressing his nose right behind his ear and lingering there. Tommy didn’t move, felt Evan’s arms circle him and then Evan’s chin on his shoulder. 

Across the left side of his bed was the wardrobe whose right door was a full length mirror. Reflected on it were the two of them. He could see that Evan had captured the reflection too, meeting his eyes on it and earning a smile. 

“We look good together,” Evan said and he pressed his head to Tommy’s. “Especially when your shirt is off.” 

“Is that what you like about me?” Tommy asked. 

“Hmm, yes, that and so much more,” Evan said, pulling at Tommy so he could turn to face him. 

Evan was on his knees, bare except the underwear he’d slipped on after their shower and if it wasn’t for the activities before the shower and in the shower, Tommy might have been inclined to get them off of him. Just looking at him, at all the skin on display and at the warmth that he exuded was enough for Tommy to reach for him and draw him into a slow lazy kiss. It was enough for him to consider if going a third round was an option. 

“That,” Evan said against his lips. “I love that.” 

Evan pulled away to lay down. His curls were free of product, already drying, and they stood out on the pillow. Tommy loved getting to see him like that, in a way that most people didn’t. Tommy took his time joining him on the fresh sheets, taking Evan in. He had scars like they all did, but they didn’t mar him as much as told a story of his survival. His tattoos were a testament to dumb decisions because from Evan’s own admission they weren’t very deep or thought out. In Tommy’s eyes they were a mark of who he had been when he was younger. 

“Come here,” Evan said. 

Tommy settled himself next to Evan, head on the pillow, facing him. Evan’s hands immediately went to Tommy, a gentle touch to his shoulder and his neck and then to caress his lightly stubbled cheek. 

“You want to know what I love about you?” Evan asked. “The list is long.” 

“Yeah?” 

Evan chuckled. “You already know I think you’re hot,” he said. “That’s such a small part of what I like about you.” 

Tommy hated a little bit that it felt so good to hear that. Not that Evan had ever in the four months they’d been together, made him feel like it was the thing that kept him with Tommy. It was just that there was always that niggling thing that asked why he could be so lucky as to have Evan in his life when so many others had only been interested in his muscles and what Tommy could do for them in bed. Evan was different. 

Evan kept touching him. Light distracting touches. Tommy could only watch him as he inhaled a breath and smiled at him. 

“I like that your chin has a cleft. I like that I can actually feel small in your arms. I like that your hands are big but that you can do so much delicate work with them. I like that you have a bunch of hobbies and you’re good at so many things. I like that you wear reading glasses. I like that you snore when you’re tired — no, don’t deny it. It’s cute.”

Tommy closed his mouth, felt Evan’s finger linger over his lips. He kissed the finger and Evan grinned, leaning forward to replace the finger with his lips for a quick chaste kiss. 

Evan kept going, “I like that you run cold so we can cuddle all night without getting too sweaty. I like that you’re patient. I like that you’re understanding. I like that you know who you are. Your confidence.”

Tommy made a noise to interrupt, but Evan gave a subtle shake of his head. 

“I’ve never met anyone so sure of who they are,” Evan said. “And I know it took a lot for you to get to this point, Tommy. That’s why I admire it so much. You changed for the better and you grew into this person…the person you were meant to be all along.” 

“Oh,” Tommy said and why did words feel like a hug felt? How was it that Evan could do that to him?

“There’s more,” Evan said. 

Tommy didn’t know if he could handle that, hadn’t known that there was so much for Evan to list. Evan’s hand had found his and he gripped it. 

“I’m building to something,” Evan admitted. His eyes were shining and Tommy squeezed his hand because he was emotional too. 

“I like how much you love to fly and how you’re freer up there than anywhere else. I like that you can only really make pasta well and not much else because it means I can cook for you and feed you. I like that you have a secret sweet tooth and that you have strange taste in ice cream, I mean whose favorite flavor is matcha? Also you liked that cilantro ice cream which I’m still questioning.” 

Tommy laughed. “It was good, I swear.” 

“If you say so,” Evan said. “Do you want me to keep going?”

He wanted to say no, but instead he nodded because he could tell that Evan wanted to keep going. Tommy also knew that it would take him over the emotional edge. 

“I like that you let me set the pace and that when we finally got to the good stuff you made sure I was alright every step of the way. I like that you text me everyday even when we’re both on shift and busy. I like that you let me talk at you about random things and that somehow you actually listen. I like that I can lean on you and trust you. Most of all, I like that there is no doubt in my mind that you care about me with no strings or conditions or in spite. I like that you like me maybe even more than I like that you’ve let me love you.”

“Evan,” Tommy whispered, his emotions in his voice. He wasn’t a cryer, but he’d already cried in front of Evan twice, what was once more? 

Evan inhaled. He looked close to tears too and he was staring at Tommy with wonder. 

Sometimes, very early on, Tommy had wondered how long it could last between them. How quickly would Evan realize that it wasn’t Tommy he wanted even if he’d served to awaken his queerness. He’d wondered if Evan would get curious about other men or if he might decide it was easier to keep dating women. But, Evan proved him wrong and four months in, Tommy didn’t fear that anymore. He knew Evan loved him, they had exchanged those words and it had been more about saying it than anything else because they had both already known about the love shared between them. 

“I missed one,” Evan said suddenly. 

“Evan,” Tommy whispered. 

“Your smile,” Evan said. “I really really love your smile.”

[good-oldfashioned-lover-girl]

hey boo what’s your favourite poem in the poetry anthology and you aren’t allowed to say pophyrias lover

BUT BUT BUT ITS SO GOOD LIKE THE WHOLE THING IS SUCH A FEVER DREAM I UNIRONICALLY HAVE REANNOTATED IT IN MY SPARE TIME BC I HAVE A SAD SAD LIFE ITS SO GOOD IF ANYONE READS THIS READ IT ITS AMAZING

anyway

i would either say eden rock bc it’s a genuinely interesting poem like all the alternate interpretations each suggests such a unique take, each as intriguing as eachother and provides a whole new experience reading the poem, or i would say sonnet 29: i think of thee bc we stan elizabeth barret browning and it’s also a rly pretty poem

[lewmagoo]

so sorry it's been a hard day 💛 when i have a bad day, i think of how fond Bob Floyd would be. just little moments of adoration, where you're just existing, but he's enchanted.

maybe it's the face you make when you put on mascara, or the cupcake liners you pick out, or when a song from 2007 comes on the radio at a grocery store and you don't remember memorizing it but you know every word and are mumbling it under your breath, but regardless, Bob doesn't want performance. he doesn't want the polished/functional version of yourself that work/family/social pressures etc. want, he's just enamored of you 💛

being loved by bob is poetry. he notices every little thing about you. the slope of your nose. the furrow in your brow when you're perplexed (even if he kisses the furrow away most times). the way your eyes light up when you wake up to a fresh blanket of snow on the ground. all those little things remind him how much he loves you. and i imagine him writing about all the ways he loves you, something similar to sonnet 43 by elizabeth barret browning. this man would fill an entire journal detailing how he feels about you.

[icouldhyperfixatehim]

I love thee to the level of everyday's // Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. (Elizabeth Barret Browning)

GAP ep1 vs. GAP ep5

[kurja-tales]

Sonnets from the Portuguese 43: " How do I love thee? Let me count the ways "

( by Elizabeth Barret Browning )

[ninfaribelle]

Se devi amarmi fallo, ma solo

per puro amore. Non dire mai

“L’amo per l’aspetto, lo sguardo e

il parlare gentile, o perché il suo pensiero

concorda col mio, e certo quel giorno

mi diede un senso di piacere”.

Da sé, queste cose, amore, possono

mutare, o mutare per te; e l’amore nato così

così potrebbe essere distrutto. Non mi amare mai

per la dolce pietà che asciuga la mia gota;

il pianto può scordare una creatura che tedia

il tuo eterno conforto, e l’amore perciò perde!

Ma amami solo per puro amore, che sempre

m’amerai per l’eternità d’amore.

(Elizabeth Barret Browning)

[archduchessofnowhere]

The Sculptress and the Queen in Exile: Harriet Hosmer and Marie Sophie of the Two Sicilies

If you've been following me for some time you'll know that I'm always looking for scraps of information about Queen Marie Sophie of the Two Sicilies. Today I'll bring you a post that I've been writing for while, about one of Marie's friends and biggest admirers.

After the end of the Siege Gaeta in February 1861, and until 1870, the deposed Bourbons of the Two Sicilies lived in Rome, where they formed a court in exile. There, Queen Marie started to frequent the circles of artists, and she, who was renowned as a living heroine, became a muse for them. During the decaded of 1860s she possed for many artists in Rome, like Thomas Buchanan Read, who painted her in 1868. But perhaps the greatest piece of art for which she modeled was a real-size sculpture made by the famous sculptress Harriet Hosmer.

Perhaps those from the US, or those who are into art and sculpture history are familiar with her. I'm neither. So I started to investigate: who was Harriet Hosmer and how did she became acquianted with Marie?

Harriet "Hatty" Hosmer was born in Massachusetts on October 9, 1830. When she was nineteen-years-old she decided that she wanted to become a sculptor. There was only one problem: sculpture was considered to be a male-only proffesion. But Harriet was determined, so her father supported her, and despite women not being allowed to study anatomy, he managed to get her a spot at Missouri Medical College through the influence of Wayman Crow, a friend of the family. In November 1852 Harriet went to Rome, to finish her training as an sculptor, where she frequented the likes of Nathaniel Hawthrone and Elizabeth Barret Browning, amongst many other American artists and writers that lived there. By the 1860s she became in the leading female sculptor of her time, opening her own studio. And in 1868, Harriet begun the only sculpture of a living subject she ever did, an sculpture that once it was finished would be called her masterpiece. That is, an sculpture of Queen Marie.

Harriet informed Wayman Crow about her latest work in a letter dated January 4, 1869:

I am making a statue of the Queen of Naples. I don't know that you ever saw that photograph of her with a cloak wrapped about her, called the Gaeta costume? She came to me the other day dressed exactly as she was then, spur and all. It will make an interesting statue, for the subject is invested with so much that is historic. I forgot to say there is a pile of cannon balls at her feet, and upon them I shall get her to write her name and Gaeta and the year. The costume is perfectly classic, and she is so beautiful and artistic looking that she lends herself wonderfully to art.

Marie possed for Harriet many times, and soon the two became close. Harriet was pretty much head over heels for the Heroine of Gaeta, whom she describes in her letters as "uncommonly handsome" and delightful. Harriet's biographer Dolly Sherwood says this about the sculptor's enthusiasm for the exiled Queen:

In their love of equestrian sports, they had much in common. But beyond that, Maria Sophia represented a flesh-and-blood heroine, for she had stood beside her husband on the battlements at Gaeta during the final siege that brought down the kingdom. Wrapped in a voluminous cape, she became the symbol of resistance, urging on the defenders ot Gaeta in their last battle to sustain the kingdom of Naples and the Two Sicilies against republican forces fighting for a united Italy,

It was coincidental that Maria Sophia came to Rome as an exile in 1861 when Harriet Hosmer was exhibiting her statue ot Zenobia, the vanquished queen of antiquity. In spite of all that Hosmer could do to resuscitate her, Zenobia was far removed from contemporary struggles. But when Maria Sophia came to her studio, years later, dressed just as she was at Gaeta, in cape and spurs, here was an actual, modern-day heroine, beautiful and courageous, a tragic figure irretrievably stripped of power. Small wonder that Hatty was enchanted with her subject.

Harriet also met Empress Elisabeth, who went to Rome at the end of 1869 to accompany her sister in her confinement. I decided to left what I learned about Harriet and Elisabeth's acquaintance for a another post, since this one is already too long, however I'll leave as a teaser this small fragment of a letter that she wrote to Wayman Crown on March 17, 1870:

(...) This is a commission I am going to ask you to execute for me in the best style of Art, as it is for the Empress and the Queen (Austria and Naples understood.) They want half-a-dozen SHAKER HATS!!!!! That in large letters, for I am sure it will make you laugh. Those royal ladies are going to appear this summer in that style of head-dress, and I have no doubt that Shaker hats will afterwards be in great demand throughout Austria and Bavaria.

The letter goes on for almost two pages detailing exactly how this SHAKER HATS are, but I think this is enough.

In Dolly Sherwood's biography I also found this bit, which I'd never heard of before, about Marie asking Harriet to help her find a black maid:

As minion answering the royal bidding, she once wrote James Yeatman, champion of freed black people, to ask it he could locate a young girl to work as a maid for Maria Sophia. She told Crow that Yeatman had "fished me out a little darkey from the depths of the Black Sea and sent me a very pretty photo of her which I have forwarded to the Queen and now we will see if she is pretty enough."

Sadly I have nothing more on this since it's never mentioned again. The only thing that I can add is that Marie grew up in a household that had black servants, so she possibly wouldn't have found strange to employ a black girl.

By the beginning of 1870 the air in Rome was changing. In July, the Franco-Prussian War begun, and only weeks later Napoleon III recalled the French soldiers that were protecting the Papal States, leaving them defenseless. Many of the foreigners that were staying at Rome left, but Harriet stayed, for she didn't want to miss what she knew was a historical moment. So she saw first hand when the Italian troops finally broke into the city on September. By October, the Papal States were annexed to the Kingdom of Italy, and the Unification was completed.

Harriet wrote on December 30, 1870, that:

The Prince and Princess of Piedmont [the futures King Umberto I of Italy and Queen Margherita] came the other day, and society (Roman) is completely divided as to who shall speak to them and who shall not. Papalini or Liberali you must be. You can't be both. He was at the hunt today, and is no beauty. She, they say, is pretty and altogether charming. I haven't seen her, not even a glimpse, though one of her gentlemen of honor informs me I am to have a visit from her. But I am faithful to my violet-eyed heroine of Gaeta.

(Absolutely love Harriet describing Marie's eyes as violet as if she was the protagonist of a self-incert Wattpad fic).

On their part, Marie and her husband King Francesco II had long left the city. After the death of their daughter Cristina at only three-months-old on March 28, 1870, the sovereigns saw no more reason to stay in Rome. Marie left first April 16, and Francesco followed her April 21. They would never comeback.

The royal couple moved to Bavaria, where Harriet visit them in December 1871. From this visit comes this letter:

I wrote you from Paris, on my way to Munich, where I had a delightful week with the Queen of Naples. They live at the Castle of Garatshausen, two or three hours from Munich, a charming place on the Lake of Starnburg. I never saw her so handsome. It is quite a delight to look at her, and she was so pleased to see me, I don't know when I have had a warmer welcome. The King, too, received me with open arms, but beat me at chess every night in the most merciless manner. I went for three days and stayed seven. The Queen made me ride all her horses, and drove me about herself in the mornings in her carriage with the most faultless pair of little ponies, round as apples. The country is beautiful about the lake. In the afternoons a ride, and such scampers over the fields! I had never a scrap of riding gear with me, but I was arrayed in her own royal togs, and good riding made up the rest. In the evening always chess with the King, and having forgotten almost all I ever knew about the game, you may imagine I cut but a sorry figure. Now and then in a sort of wild and desperate way I used to make a hit which made his Majesty stare, but it made me stare much more, I promise you. When I came away there were three of us sorry, and I promised to repeat my visit next summer.

Harriet would later said that "The romance of my life was centred in Garatshausen and the Queen of Naples. My intimate friendship with this lovely woman was an episode to be remembered." She remained in contact with the Queen and King for the next years, and we also find a mention of the sculptor visiting the couple in 1876, this time in England, where she took them to visit Warwick Castle and two days later to Castle Ashby. Lady Warwick later wrote to Harriet about the "charming" visit of their Majesties, and added that they were all "greatly impressed with the Queen's beauty".

So it's at this point in which will adress what you've probably been thinking this whole time:

If you got this vibe, you are correct. Harriet Hosmer was romantically involved with several women throughout her life. Was Marie one of them? Harriet definitely seems quite enamoured with her, but so was half of Europe during the 1860s. And we have nothing on how Marie felt about Harriet. So for lack of more evidence, the nature of this relationship is to remain ambiguous to us (at least for now).

However, while I was researching this subject I discovered that in many works about Harriet it's a given that she and Marie were lovers. But other than the "romance of my life" quote, they don't provide much more evidence. Perhaps there are more of Harriet's letters about Marie that are (even) more suggestive and make for a stronger case than these that were published in 1912 (!), but I don't know.

Lastly, what happened to the statue, the so-called masterpiece? Until 1872 it was in Harriet's studio; apparently it's speculated that Marie took the statue with her to Bavaria, but its last know location was in Castle Ashby, in 1891. As I mentioned before, Harriet took the royal couple to Castle Ashby in 1876, so there is a connection between the Queen and that place. Did she gifted or sold the statue to the Marquess of Northampton, the owner Castle Ashby? We don't know. Sadly, the statue is now lost, and not even a photography of it survives. But who knows, maybe it's still out there in someone's basement, and it will soon be rediscovered. We can only hope.

Sources:

Carr, Cornelia (1912). Harriet Hosmer: letters and memories

Cronin, Patricia (2009). Harriet Hosmer: Lost and Found, A Catalogue Raisonné

Sherwood, Dolly (1991). Harriet Hosmer, American Sculptor, 1830-1908

[devosopmaandag]

Doodstijding II

De tweede van de drie doodstijdingen van vorige week werd een feitelijke: J overleed eergisteren. Op de ochtend van die dag had ik nog een bericht gestuurd haar graag een keer op te zoeken. Enkele dagen ervoor stuurde ze mij het bericht dat ze desondanks het vanaf nu nog leuker ging maken, en ons van harte uitnodigde om mee te doen. En nu is ze dood, die elegante vrouw van in de zeventig, vrolijk zwaaiend op haar fiets. Ik herinner me een beige, halflange klokrok, met een witte blouse en ballerina's aan haar voeten. Ik herinner me haar voor de eerste keer met oorhangers te zien. Ik herinner me haar luide, wat diepe lach.

Iedere zondagmorgen lees ik met veel aandacht en een literair oog de overlijdensberichten in de NRC. Dit zijn de citaten die ik in de krant van afgelopen zaterdag vond:

“Het licht schijnt in de duisternis en de duisternis heeft het niet in haar macht gekregen.” Johannes 1:5

“Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose.” Jannis Joplin

“En in mijn armen liggen schoven / Van alle rijkdom, die ik brak, / Een schat mijn eigen wenschen te boven / En wie ik liefheb, krijgt een tak.” H.J. Leopold

“De laatste schrede van de rede is in te zien dat er oneindig aantal dingen zijn die haar te boven gaan." Blaise Pascal

“Mon doux, mon tendre, mon merveilleus amour, de l'aube claire jusqu'à la fin du jour. “ Jacques Brell

Be patiënt, calm, compassionate. Know that existence is fleeting. “ Ettore Sotsas

“Hoe vreemd dat het niet vreemder is dan 't is." Martinus Nijhoff

Een tijd geleden vond ik zo een citaat om nooit te vergeten, twee dichtregels uit een gedicht van Christina Rosetti. Rosetti was toch een van schilders van de prerafaelieten? Dat was haar broer. Op zoek naar wie zij was, verloor ik me lang op het internet in haar leven en in afbeeldingen van haar. Zij werd samen met Elizabeth Barret Browning in de negentiende eeuw beschouwd als de twee beste vrouwelijke dichters van het land. Ik vond het gedicht terug waaruit de twee regels zijn genomen. Het begint met “When I am dead, my dearest” en vervolgt met het aanspreken van wie mogelijk om haar treuren. Ze vraagt hun geen rozen op haar graf te planten, noch deze in de schaduw van een cypress te plaatsen. Wees maar het gras.

De familie van de overledene koos voor de laatste twee regels van de eerste strofe. Losgesneden uit het 19e-eeuwse sentiment krijgen ze een kracht die de dood van een geliefde nog meer doet voelen, en de acceptatie ervan. Tegenover het overweldigende en soms chaotische dat een overlijden teweeg brengt, spreken deze twee regels in volle, stille eenvoud, een boodschap voor daarna:

And if thou wilt, remember,

And if thou wilt, forget.

[13lizardsinatrenchcoat]

Deep-hearted man, express

Grief for thy dead in silence like to death—

Most like a monumental statue set

In everlasting watch and moveless woe

Till itself crumble to the dust beneath.

Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet:

If it could weep, it could arise and go.

Elizabeth Barret Browning

[thegreenwallrabbit-blog]

Explaining one of VTMB paintings (part 14)

The Music Lesson, oil on canvas (1877) by Fredric Leighton

Sir Fredric Leighton, 1st Baron Leighton (Dec 3 1830 - Jan 25 1896) was a British Victorian painter, draughtsman and sculptor born in Scarborough, Yorkshire. He was educated at the University Collage School in London. He designed the tomb for the English Poet Elizabeth Barret Browning in English Cemetery,Florence in 1861. He was the first President of the Commitee commissioning the Suervay of London which was in charge of documenting public works of art and architecture. He was knighted at Windsor in 1878 and made Baronet of Hollow Park Road in the Parish of St. Mary Abbots, Kensington in 1886.

A Victorian painter refers to the distinctive art style of painting in the UK during the reign of Queen Victoria (1837-1901). Specifically the academic art style coming from mainly the Royal Academy of the Arts with Leighton being one of the most recognized of this style. Focused on Christian, British Royalism and Imperial with an overall optimistic tone and close attention to even the smallest of details. The biggest change was the shift away from the traditional focus on storytelling and moralizing subject matter as the subjects of art. Instead choosing subjects based on aesthetic appeal which contrasted their contemporaries Pre-Raphaelites. [1]

The Architecture depicted in the background of The Music Lesson is based on Leighton study of architecture from his trip to Damascus, Syria in 1873. The black and white stripes of the stone building are a style of Islamic architecture ablaq. In Syria Ablaq is often used to decorate arches of Mosques, palaces and Sufi lodges. The technique of ablaq may have originated from Syria or the Byzantine Empire. One of the first written records on the use of ablaq masonry was found regarding repairs done to the northern wall of the Great Mosque of Damascus in 1109 [2]. The musical instrument that is the center of the lesson is a Baglama (sometime called a saz) which is a type of long necked seven string lute used in both Turkish and Azerbaijani folk music [3]. The choice of architecture and instrument are most likely based on their aesthetic beauty and to give the work a small amount of exotic flare. The two British models depicted in the painting appear in a number of Leighton works. The younger girl is Connie Gilchrist( Jan 23 1865-May 6 1946) who as a child was a rather famous art model, actress and singer that work with a number of other artist including Frank Holl, James McNeil Whistler and author/photogrpher Lewlis Carol (author of Alice in Wonderland). As an adult she married Edmond Walter FitzMaurice, the 7th Earl of Orkney (Orkney is a archipelago in the norther isles of Scotland) making her the Countess of Orkney. [4]

[1]“Frederic Leighton.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 1 Oct. 2023, en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frederic_Leighton.  [2]“Ablaq.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 22 Oct. 2023, en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ablaq#:~:text=Ablaq%20(Arabic%3A%20أبلق%3B%20particolored,architecture%20in%20the%20Arab%20world.  [3]“Bağlama.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 15 Oct. 2023, en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ba%C4%9Flama.  [4]“Connie Gilchrist, Countess of Orkney.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 30 July 2023, en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Connie_Gilchrist,_Countess_of_Orkney#:~:text=Connie%20Gilchrist%20(23%20January%201865,Lewis%20Carroll%20and%20aristocrats%2C%20Lord.