In 2015 the Press carried a series about works in the Christchurch Art Gallery collection. On 25 August it published an article on Raymond McIntyre by gallery curator Ken Hall. He wrote about McIntyre’s “principal muse for his portrait studies” (identified as “Sylvia Constance Cavendish”), ending with, “More solid information about this favourite model is sparse. She was possibly of European origin….”[1] Others have written that several of his portraits (even those named “Ruth”, “Lisette” etc) are of her. Who was she?
The National Portrait Gallery in London has two photographs by Bassano Theatricals, the negative plates inscribed “19.8.21 Miss Constance Cavendish” and they have been identified as Phyllis Constance Cavendish.
Hall noted McIntyre often mentioned her in his letters home. Perusal of copies, held at the Alexander Turnbull Library in Wellington, confirms that and clarifies her identity. The letters are excerpted at some length below as they suggest the nature of their relationship.
McIntyre wrote to his father on 23 October 1912,
I have “bucked up” considerably in my painting and drawing and I am now doing work ever so much better than I ever did before. I have a very nice girl sitting for me now—who is a great help to me. Mr Hatherell[2] told me about her. She plays every night in “Monte Christo”.[3] More about her some other time.
More about her to his brother Arthur on 20 November 1912,
The girl who is sitting for me now a lot—Sylvia Constance Cavendish[4]—she who is appearing in “Monte Christo”—at the “New Princes” under Melvilles direction. Melvilles (brothers) are the Bland Holts[5] of London. Melodrama laid on thick for the millions, as it were. I went and saw “Monte Christo”—lately—first melodrama I have seen for ten years—since what time I used to think Bland Holt worth while. It was quite interesting to renew acquaintance with this style of thing. I must tell the Squires[6] about having gone to “Monte Christo”—Squire always said I was a reactionary. So I’ll give him this added proof. Well, I started out to say something about Miss Cavendish. She brought along a camera the other day—and some printing paper—and she was telling me some years ago she bought this camera—and a lot of chemicals—paper—plates—printing frames—red lamp (she said a canvas folding one—whatever that’s like—however, she will probably bring it along some time and then I’ll know) &c—and never done any photography! I took some photos of her the other day, by way of experiment in the use of this particular camera—a “Clincher”.[7] She is not satisfied with any professional work done of her. She has had her photograph taken by Leslie Charles Hana— “Daily Mirror” &c—and said they were no good. So she has asked me to do some!
When I get some done of her I’ll send you some prints. This girl has played every woman’s part in “A Message from Mars”[8]—on tour. The last time she was here playing “Minnie”. Shes only 22 years old, too….
Miss Cavendish has a very refined interesting pale face—and I have done some good work from her—painting and drawings. And she is so conscientious and sits so well—she is quite a find. It is people of the theatrical profession that I am always coming into close contact with. I think I know more of them than of other kinds of persons—as you have perhaps noticed from time to time.
The other day Miss Cavendish said she’d get some plates. I said she needn’t—as I would probably get some anyway— “but” said I— “if you’re going to get any, you may as well get the right kind— ‘Imperial Special Rapid’—can you remember that?” She said— “Isn’t there some double ‘X’ plate, or something?” I said, “No, you’re thinking of buns!”
The other day she said— “I did not remember what plates I was to get—but it was ‘Ilford’ wasn’t it.” And I said— “No! those are the very kind you’re not to get!”
….
The pheasant Aunt Ada sent me I cooked A.1. It was slightly “high” and “just so”. You know, I’m quite good at cooking. Miss Cavendish who comes all day, had some—and gave her verdict that at cooking I was “an adept” and she would be particular. I can make good coffee, too. Since I was at Saint-Malo I picked up the idea. Item which will interest Daphne—Messrs Pathé Frères[9] have written twice to Miss Cavendish asking her to work for them. She also had a letter from the “Vitagraph” Co[10] offering employment. She refused, as she does not care about it, & her mother objected.
To his father on 5 December 1912,
Alas!—I have lost my charming model—at least for a while. She is rehearsing all day and every day in a forthcoming Pantomime. I did the best work I have ever done so far from her. I like to go outside the usual run of professional models, of which there are hundreds and hundreds in London—and get people of more normal type and who do not live in the atmosphere of Studios all the time. It is more interesting to have a breath of the outside world come along with different interests and information to impart. These stage folk who I have had are very helpful to me in that way. Miss Cavendish has three uncles in Parliament, all representing the Conservative interest.[11] One day when she came along here, she said that the night before—Mr Lloyd George had visited the theatre….
McIntyre told Arthur, on 12 December 1912, about taking Miss Cavendish’s photographs using her own camera. He added,
Isn’t she sweet?—During the last week of “Monte Cristo”—she took the leading lady’s part. She was second understudy for the part of “Mercedes”—and only heard at 5 p.m. on the night that she had to play it. She is very busy over rehearsing for “Cinderella” Pantomime which opens on Boxing night at the “Princes”—and goes on daily with 2 performances daily. The way she has her hair done in the photo is “au naturelle”—if I may say so—but when I draw her, I always make her do it how I want it—which is in a more severe style. À la Breton—or in plaits—or plastered down. I like the shape of a head to show, especially if it is a good shape—and hers is.
He enclosed photographs,
- Miss Cavendish sitting on sofa!
- “ “ with hands clasped!
- “ “ pencil drawing!
- “ “ “au naturelle”!
On 5 March 1913,
Sorry the consensus of opinion voted Miss Cavendish “not pretty”. The word “pretty” in this connection is not much of a word, is it—anyway? It is what we painters most wish to avoid. Yes, as you say, she has a good name. It’s her real name, too. She doesn’t use it on the stage though—her mother does not care about her doing so. She calls herself by her two Christian names— “Phyllis Constance.” She is principal understudy at the “Princes” in “The Indian Mutiny”—and has to turn up there every night to see if the leading lady is there and in form. Today, she bought proofs of the photos Langfier[12] took, to show me. They took a dozen. She brought along 4—said she tore up the others as they were “terrible.” These ones were surprisingly poor for such a firm to turn out.
On 6 May 1913 he wrote to his sister Doris, relating a conversation he had had with Miss Cavendish and continuing,
I seem to be always mentioning and writing about her—but you see, she has a lot of anecdotes &c—and always comes along with something to say….
The other day when they (that is to say the Cavendishes) milk was delivered—at the bottom of the can—when the milk was poured out—they found a pair of spectacles! Naturally they were very indignant about it. Later on, they were telling a relation of theirs—who happens to be an optician—about it—and he got keenly interested and his face lit up—and when they paused for his remark upon the enormity of the affair—he said eagerly— “What make were the spectacles?”
The Cavendishes are the kind of people, who, if they want a nail driven in, send along to Maple & Co, who send a man along to do it.
We were considering the other day the possibilities of falling out the window—and Miss Cavendish said— “What would you do if I fell out?”—and I said— “Of course get a lot of sheets—and tear them into strips and knot them together—and throw them out the window—and lower myself down and haul you up!” “I suppose you would take a camera and take snap-shots!” “No!” said I— “I’d get someone on the Embankment to do that!” “And I would appear in “The Daily Mirror” as “Dramatic Rescue on Cheyne Walk!”—said she….
On 30 September 1913 he told his father about a visit from artist friends, including one James Meo:
He was a typical artist with a beard. He was very keen on my things—and really admired them very much—and Miss Cavendish (as for representations) called forth a good deal of admiration Meo saying— “What a glorious woman!” which really rather amused me—and listen for why. Really, I have invented her type. Though all the things I do are like her—yet it is the particular points about her which interest me I accentuate—and bring out—and I leave the parts that do not help. One, Meo particularly liked—and said what lovely hair she had. Now, in this particular picture her hair was pitch black—and she hasn’t black hair at all. Whatever the scheme is, I vary the hair to suit it. They were all very interested in my work—and genuinely so, which made me glad, because it corroborated my own idea that I was not deceiving myself. You see, one may get keen on someone, and be thinking more of her as her (or she?) than of the work. I am very much alive to this—and sentimentalism is so very inimical to good art. This sort of thing I can immediately detect in other people’s work….
Miss Cavendish said today that her mother was anxious to see the things I had done of her exhibited—and also said— “Mother would probably buy some.” I thought the “some” was good….
He was reading a “Handbook to Chelsea” and
I read out some to Miss Cavendish the other day—embroidering a little—thus— “A little further on, just past the Inn called the ‘Aquatic Stores’ two small ivy clad houses remain (threatened with demolition in 1896, but respited for a while by the help of Mr C.R. Asher), in the further of which, no 119, J.M.W. Turner, the great painter died, having lived there in retirement and obscurity (184-? December 19th 1851). This house is chiefly remarkable for the fact that Raymond McIntyre lives next door—“*
* This last two lines are not really in the Guide Book. Joke.
To his father on 8 October 1913,
I had my pupils in the morning, and Miss Cavendish here all day. This evening she has an engagement to give a display of dancing at Highgate—and Ellen Terry is to be there. Miss C. is very placid, as she only left here at 5-15. When she told me the other day of her engagement to dance tonight, I asked her if she would be able to come to me on that day, and she said— “Oh yes! It’s not until the evening.”—Mondays and Thursdays are the days she always comes here. She danced at some school affair at Norwood the other evening—for which she earned the fee of £2–2–0—and 10/- expenses. She danced between two parts of a programme. She said when she arrived—one of the girls came running up to her and said— “Aren’t you excited?”—and she said— “What about?”
The last letter in the collection is to his father and dated 22 September 1914; it ends with McIntyre’s transcription of Miss Cavendish’s translation into German of McIntyre’s letter to the avant garde German magazine Jugend. Sadly it is indecipherable.
Who then was the 34 year old bachelor painter’s “very nice girl” of whom he wrote, “isn’t she sweet?” his “charming model”, this teller of anecdotes, she of the “refined interesting pale face”, this actor and dancer—whom he was “always mentioning and writing about”? “One may get keen on someone, and be thinking more of her as her…”
“Constance Cavendish” was born in London in 1890, the only child of Albert Cavendish (31, “publisher”) and his wife Catherine (Judge) Cavendish (27), living at 24 North Road, Highgate in 1891.
The 1901 census has Constance Cavendish, aged 10, born in Highgate, boarding with Henry and Lucy Cromwell and their two children at the Carpenter’s Cottage, Bushy Park, Hampton.
The 1911 census has Catherine Amelia Cavendish, now a widow, keeping a boarding house at 7 Albert St, St Pancras St Jude, Gray’s Inn Road; her daughter, 20 year old “Constance Amelia Cavendish”, was living with her.
McIntyre told his brother on 20 October 1912, “This girl has played every woman’s part in ‘A Message from Mars’ —on tour. The last time she was here playing ‘Minnie’”. A message from Mars was toured in the provinces by Frederick Mouillot, a prominent British theatre manager, director, and playwright, ending with a London season from 9 December 1911 at the Prince of Wales Theatre, where Miss Jessie Bateman played Minnie.[13] “Phyllis Constance” did play “A Flower Girl” in 1910 at Dublin’s Gaiety Theatre[14] and at Belfast’s Grand Opera House.[15]
She recited “Stage-Struck” at a concert in Clerkenwell in 1911,[16] played in The Hope at the Borough Theatre in Stratford in 1912,[17] going on to the Theatre Royal in Brighton,[18] the Palace in Manchester,[19] the Theatre Royal in Birmingham.[20]
On 23 October 1912 McIntyre told his father, “She plays every night in ‘Monte Christo’” and on 20 November told his brother about “… she who is appearing in ‘Monte Christo’—at the ‘New Princes’ under Melvilles direction”. On 12 December he corrected that: “During the last week of ‘Monte Cristo’—she took the leading lady’s part. She was second understudy for the part of ‘Mercedes’.” Monte Cristo opened at the Prince’s Theatre in London on 9 October 1912 with Miss Frances Dillon playing Mercedes.[21] It closed on 7 December, by which time Frances Dillon was already rehearsing for By right of sword at the Royal Theatre, Bury,[22] so Phyllis may well have taken the part of Mercedes in London for the last week.
Cinderella did open at the Prince’s on 26 December 2012, with Elsie Craven as Cinderella and a cast of over 100.[23] The critics were positive but none mentioned Phyllis, though the Clapham Observer may have included her in its assessment, “The ballets, arranged by Mlle. Rosa, are delightful, and Lottie Stone’s troupe of dancers are both graceful and agile”.[24] Cinderella ended on 1 February and was replaced with another Melville brothers production, The Indian Mutiny (“Miss Dora Barton has been specially engaged, and will be supported by a powerful cast”).[25]
In 1914 “Miss Phyllis Constance, the dancer” promised twelve pairs of socks to the Queen Mary Needlework Guild, for the benefit of the children of the poor[26] and was also named as a subscriber to the Ladies’ Emergency Relief Fund of the Variety Artistes Benevolent Fund and Institution.[27] “Miss P. Constance” was “Sou Chong” in Aladdin at the Dalston, opening on Boxing Day.[28]
In 1915 she enacted “Miss Servia” in a revue called Beauties at the Hippodrome in Derby,[29] going on to the Royalty Theatre in Chester. She joined other players in Beauties to entertain wounded soldiers at the Royal Infirmary in Bristol in 1916,
The Misses Leslie James, Phyllis Constance, and K. D’Arcy Levy gave a delightful vocal and musical act, which drew forth rounds of applause…. Miss Phyllis Constance received a great reception for her recital of “Stage-struck heroes”.[30]
In Lancashire in 1917, a critic thought “Phyllis Constance and Rosalind Watson are musical comedy artistes of exceptional talent”. They were appearing in Blue Birds, an “all ladies’ concert party”[31] and they played a number of provincial centres.
Fourth on the bill in the Surrey Comet 16 June 1917.
She may have changed her stage name to “Phyllis Cavendish” in 1918 as an actor of that name was one of “a very strong cast” in The silver crucifix at the Royal Artillery Theatre in Woolwich in August.[32]
In September, at Coventry, she was named in the advertisements for a revue which must have been of questionable taste even then.
Coventry Herald 28 September 1918.
Chambers’s Journal of Popular Literature, Science and Arts 1920 (volume 97, part 117 page 624) carried a poem by Phyllis Constance Cavendish,
’Twas not made for you or me,
This mystic world of ours;
Life’s harvest, then, will either yield
A crop of thorns or flowers.
For in the state we find it all
We’re not compelled to take it,
So try to fashion and improve
And fairer still to make it.
It was also published in the Huddersfield Daily Examiner (27 August 1920) as “A Thought for To-day” and (curiously) in the Waikato Times (8 January 1921) as “Our Opportunity”. It seems to be her expansion and explanation of a similar sentiment by American poet Alice Carey 1820–1871 who wrote, in more compact verse,
It is not just as we take it
This mystic world of ours
Life’s fields will yield, as we make it,
A harvest of thorns or flowers.
At the 1921 census Catherine Amelia and Constance Amelia Cavendish were both still living at the boarding house at 7 Albert St, St Pancras, with four boarders.
On 21 September 1922 The Stage’s regular column “Variety Gossip” thanked those, including Phyllis Cavendish, who had helped take up collections for the Ladies’ Guild.
After that any combinations of names derived from Phyllis Constance Cavendish disappear from British newspapers until 1930, when a writer on stage and screen topics mentioned that “Gus McNaughton… has recently played in three talkies, ‘Children of Chance’ (in which Herbert Marshall, Phyllis Constance, and Jack Raine play parts)….”[33] Children of chance is a 1930 British comedy crime film: of these four only Gus McNaughton is mentioned in its credits.
“Phyllis Constance” was reported[34] as appearing in another 1930 British film, Compromising Daphne, but that was Phyllis Konstam, not she. The Liverpool Evening Express made the same mistake when reviewing Ms Konstam’s role in the 1931 film Tilly of Bloomsbury.[35]
Her mother (said to be a widow) remarried in 1936, to Lionel Frank Barnaschone,[36] a chartered accountant: he died four years later in Tooting Bec psychiatric hospital.[37]
I can find no record referring with certainty to her father, Albert Cavendish, but he gave his occupation as “Publisher” in the 1891 census. The Scientific Publishing Company (22 Buckingham St London) is said to have published How to become a mesmerist by an Albert Cavendish in about 1890 (26 pages and illustrations),[38] but had actually wound up three years earlier, in 1887. It was a time when stage hypnotists were becoming popular. One Albert Cavendish was business and stage manager at the Royalty Theatre in Chester in 1907, played in Our Miss Gibbs at the Broadway Theatre in 1910,[39] going on to the New Theatre in Cambridge and the Marlborough in London—and other centres through 1912. He was last mentioned in theatre news in 1914. He was described as an “experienced pantomime artist”.[40]
Constance A Cavendish, born 1890, died in 1950, aged 60, at Wood Green, Middlesex.
Phyllis, oil painting by Raymond McIntyre, exhibited at the Goupil gallery in 1913,
published in black and white in The Studio, vol.60, 1913–1914.
Phyllis Constance Cavendish aged 30 (inscribed on the negative, “19.8.21 Miss Constance Cavendish”)
portrait by Bassano, London. National Portrait Gallery—NPG x101309.
[1] Hall K. The Muse. Press 25 August 1915.
[2] William Hatherell 1855–1928, British illustrator and painter, McIntyre’s friend and mentor.
[3] Monte Cristo. Play by Charles Fechter (1868) based on the Dumas novel. The New Princes company had a highly successful run in October–December 1912.
[4] Thenceforward “Phyllis” rather than “Sylvia”—a slip of the pen?
[5] Bland Holt 1815–1942 was a theatre producer and impressario, based in Australia, but active also in New Zealand.
[6] William Henry Squire 1871–1963, English cellist and his wife Marion S. Warren, friends of McIntyre, whose portrait of Squire is in the Te Papa collections.
[7] A Clincher was an early falling-plate or box camera made by W. Butcher & Sons, significant because it helped make cameras accessible to the public.
[8] A message from Mars: a popular play by Richard Ganthony, first performed in 1899. A selfish rich man is visited by a Martian who makes him invisible so he can hear what people really think of him, leading to his redemption.
[9] The pioneering French film company was founded in 1896 by four Pathé brothers and became the world’s largest film equipment and production company by the early 20th century.
[10] The Vitagraph Company of America was a major force in silent film.
[11] In 1912, there were two men with the surname Cavendish in the UK Parliament: Victor Cavendish (Duke of Devonshire, in the House of Lords) and Lord Henry Cavendish-Bentinck (in the House of Commons); if these were her uncles, she was from British nobility.
[12] Langfier Ltd (photographers) had premises on Old Bond Street and the Finchley Road.
[13] The Stage 30 November 1911.
[14] Dublin Daily Express 2 August 1910.
[15] Belfast News-Letter 16 August 1910.
[16] Islington Gazette 5 October 1911.
[17] The Era 16 March 1912.
[18] The Era 30 March 1912.
[19] The Era 20 April 1912.
[20] The Era 27 April 1912.
[21] The Stage 3 October 1912.
[22] The Stage 5 December 1912.
[23] Morning Advertiser 20 December 1912.
[24] Clapham Observer 27 December 1912.
[25] Evening News (London) 25 January 1913.
[26] Evening News (London) 17 August 1914.
[27] The Era 16 September 1914.
[28] The Era 30 December 1914.
[29] Derbyshire Advertiser and Journal 27 August 1915.
[30] Western Daily Press 7 November 1916.
[31] Fleetwood Chronicle 3 April 1917.
[32] Woolwich Herald 9 August 1918.
[33] Yorkshire Evening Post 15 November 1930.
[34] Staffordshire Newsletter 4 July 1931.
[35] Liverpool Evening Express 9 November 1931.
[36] St. Pancras Gazette 8 January 1937.
[37] https://sites.rootsmagic.com/gwehydd/individual.php?p=5430.
[38] How to become a mesmerist: containing practical instructions in the mode of procedure in mesmerism, now popularly called hypnotism. Harry Houdini Collection (Library of Congress).
[39] The Era 16 April 1910.
[40] St Helens Examiner 10 October 1914.