Identifier: jamesmcnei00penn (find matches)
Title: Life of James McNeill Whistler,
Year: 1911 (1910s)
Authors: Pennell, Elizabeth Robins,
Subjects: American Art
Publisher: J. B. Lippincott company
Contributing Library: Whitney Museum of American Art, Frances Mulhall Achilles Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Metropolitan New York Library Council - METRO

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on the other side. He stayed a week at Domburg, a small sea-shore village near Middel-burg. With its little red roofs nestling among the sand-dunes and itswide beach under the skies he loved, he thought it enchanting, and madea few water-colours which he showed us afterwards in the studio. Theplace, he said, was not yet exploited, and at Madame Elouts he foundgood wine and a Dordrecht banker who talked of the Boers and assuredhim they were all right, the Dutch would see to that. A visit toIreland followed. He went full of expectations, for as the descendantof the Irish Whistlers he called himself an Irishman. We have a note ofhis stay there from Sir Walter Armstrong, Director of the NationalGallery of Ireland : He took a house, Craigie the name of it, at Sutton, six miles fromDublin, on the spit of sand which connects the Hill of Howth with the mainland (as the Neutral Ground unites Gib. with Spain) on thenorth side of Dublin Bay. There he excited the curiosity of the natives398 (1900
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(Seepage 358) LILLIE IN OUR ALLEYBROWN AND GOLD OIL In the possession of J. J. Cowan, Esq. The Beginning of the End by at once papering up the windows on the north side of the house,for half their height, with brown paper. He came to dinner with meone night, stipulating that he should be allowed to depart at 9.30, ashe was such an early goer to bed. We dined accordingly at 7, and hisJehu, with the only closed fly the northern half of County Dublin couldsupply, was punctually at the door at the hour named. There he hadto wait for three hours, for it was not until 12.30 that the delightfulflow of Whistlers eloquence came to an end, and that he extracted himsel ffrom the deep arm-chair which had been his pulpit for four hours and ahalf. His talk had been great, and we had confined ourselves to littleexclamatory appreciations and gazes of wrapt adoration ! I spent anhour or two with him in the Irish National Gallery. I found himthere lying on the handrail before a sketch of Hogarth (Georg

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