This painting of Elizabeth Hunter, produced by Henry Pickering (around 1720 – 1770 or 1771), shows an elegant woman sitting with her right shoulder slightly to the fore and her hands which are not visible, most likely resting in her lap.
She is placed within a painted oval frame with a restful unobtrusive background which allows the viewer to concentrate on the composed and fresh face of the sitter and to admire her beautiful silver white satin clothes.
Pickering presents Elizabeth as a dignified woman, as suits her status in society. She has a high forehead which in times past might signify intelligence, her brown eyes are enigmatic and the expression on her face is non-committal. We are not going to be able to tell much about the woman’s view on life from this portrait. She is shown with a long swan like neck and sloping shoulders. The sitter is depicted with the refined features that embody the 18th-century ideals of modest beauty, conforming to the era’s expectations of femininity.
She is stunningly and fashionably dressed. She wears her hair waved back from the forehead and temples, leaving her ears just visible in the style known as Dutch Coiffure. Behind there is a hint of curls and ringlets which fall to the nape of the neck. A pearl slide just visible matches the long strings of her pearl necklace that she wears around her neck and on the bodice of her dress. Because this is a special occasion, she does not wear a cap.
We can see her bodice decorated with ruffles down the front to conceal the fastenings; the sleeves are puffed and extend to the elbow, no doubt with further lace flounces below the elbow which we can’t see. Blue flower bows focus the eyes on the decorative sleeve, the modestly concealed breast and fix the lace handkerchief about her shoulders.
But who really was Elizabeth Hunter?
Elizabeth, born in 1712, was the daughter of Anne Norton the first wife of John Hunter, Samuel Johnson’s tyrannical headmaster at Lichfield Grammar. In 1741 Elizabeth married Thomas Seward, rector of Saint Lawrence’s Church in Eyam, Derbyshire. She was 28 and he 32. Thomas had chosen his bride despite the strong opposition of his professional superiors – perhaps a marriage of true love?
Elizabeth became the mother of Anna Seward (born 1742) and of Sarah (born 1744). Her eldest daughter Anna grew to become a great literary figure in Lichfield society and earned herself the admiring title The Swan of Lichfield.
In 1749 her husband was appointed to a position as Canon-Residentiary at Lichfield Cathedral, and the family moved to that city. In 1754 they moved to the Bishop’s Palace in the Cathedral Close. So could this painting be a celebration of the Sewards achieving a higher status?
From the letters of Anna Seward we are able to glean a few details about Elizabeth’s life…about that face in the portrait. In keeping with the elegance and beauty of the costume Elizabeth is wearing in the portrait, we learn from Anna that her mother had a passion for the latest fashions. She was, we are told, keen to teach her daughters ‘needlework ingenuity.’ She thought this, along with skills in domesticity and household economy, the acquirements needed for the future wives she expected her daughters to become.
It is an irony that Elizabeth, disinterested and unimpressed by her daughter’s literary prowess, was to live again through the mentions made of her in Anna Seward’s letters. We learn from Anna’s letters that she had been on a visit to London and had written often to her mother. She had also sent her presents of oysters (!). We read that she thanks Anna for the many letters ‘which I am sure deserved a more early acknowledgement,….but you know how much I dislike writing…..’. Of the oysters, she says bluntly she doesn’t want any more having ‘lost all relish for them’.
The face we see in the portrait seems young and unmarked by trouble, but by 1755 when the painting was produced, Elizabeth had been married for over 10 years and had given birth to seven babies. From 1744 to 1753 Elizabeth seems to have been almost permanently pregnant.
In the Seward family bible was carefully recorded the sad history of this family. Each birth and each death is noted using a predictable form of words , an example of which is shown below here with the short life of Jane.
‘To them was born a daughter on 30th June 1748.She was baptized Jane on 25th July…..And on 14th Feb following she departed this life, and was buried in the chancel at Eyam’
Only two children, Anna and Sarah, were to grow to adulthood: Anna the precocious literary genius with whom she had little in common, and Sarah, more kindred, more compliant.
Sadly, Sarah was to die in 1764 of typhus just before her marriage, arranged according to the conventions of the time to Joseph Porter a middle-aged merchant many years Sarah’s senior. Anna describes her mother as showing no emotion at first over the death, as she busied herself with the funeral arrangements. When it was all over however, Elizabeth suffered a collapse and it is interesting to note that she did not find comfort in the company of her remaining daughter but sent her away to relatives in Nottingham.
In the museum archives, we have the mourning ring produced in honour of Sarah, which Elizabeth must have worn to remember this beloved daughter. It is a delicate golden ring. The central oval piece contains plaited hair – no doubt Sarah’s. The outside of the ring is decorated in white enamel with the inscription in gold saying ‘Sarah Seward ob (short for obiit, which is Latin, meaning ‘she died’) 13th June 1764. Aet. (aetas, also Latin, meaning ‘aged’) 20’. Inside, in cursive script, is written the cryptic message ‘Her bridal wreath’.
Elizabeth must have spent the remaining years of her life at the centre of Lichfield society, a model of wifely domesticity. But it seems her only surviving daughter provided her with worry and shame. Anna refused entirely to follow convention. She would not accept an arranged marriage and compromised her reputation by her friendship with John Saville, her music teacher and a married man. Elizabeth would have felt it was both her parental duty and her right to control her daughter’s life.
From 1774 Elizabeth’s health declined and she was nursed by a faithful servant Molly Clarke. We are told her relationship with Anna improved at this time. Perhaps she wished to make peace with her surviving daughter as she realised how weak her illness was making her?
Elizabeth died in 1780, at the age of 67, but her beautiful portrait survives to this day as a testament to her elegance and refined taste.
Contributor: Annemarie Powell is a long-standing museum volunteer. Prior to that she was and English teacher and first got to know the Birthplace Museum when bringing her students here on school visits.
You can also read more about Elizabeth’s daughter, Anna Seward, in this blog post by Keele University MA student Andrew Bramwell.