HERSTORY: The Eighth Wonder of the World, Sarah Biffin

Self-portrait, 1821. On her sleeve can be seen her paintbrush, sewn in.

I came across Sarah Biffin’s extroadinary story a few years back and then was reminded of it at a recent exhibition of rare Elizabethan portraits at the Philip Mould Gallery in London. Philip Mould has written a book on Biffin called ‘Without Hands’ and held the first exhibition of her work in 2022 in 100 years!!! 

Its certainly about time this incredible woman got some attention. So here she is - this month’s Herstory. Prepared to be amazed! 

Becoming the ‘Limbless Wonder’ 

Sarah was born with phocomelia - no arms, and underdeveloped legs. She was not born into money or privilege. Her father was a shoemaker, and the family were raised in a humble farmworker's cottage in Somerset. But she was clearly a determined and precocious child, and taught herself to read and write using her mouth. She would even move about by herself, rolling along the floor. She was fiercely independent from a young age.  

Her dexterity and talent were capitalised on by her working class parents, who apprenticed her to one Emmanuel Dukes. Dukes acted as her ‘agent’ exhibiting her at fairs and side shows as the "Eighth Wonder" and sometimes "The Limblesss Wonder” where she would write, paint and sew using her mouth for delighted onlookers. 

Sarah could paint landscapes, still life, and portraits, mostly inminiature on ivory or vellum. She demonstrated extroadinary skill and could paint in precise detail. Her technique was described by Edward Boys Ellman in Recollections of a Sussex Parson (1912): 

“...Her paint brush was pinned to a large puff sleeve which covered the short stump of the upper part of the arm. She fixed and removed the paint brush with her teeth, when necessary to wash the brush.

When painting she leant her right shoulder forward, almost touching the table. She declared that she considered that for painting she had the advantage of those who had arms, for surely it was easier to paint with a short brush than with a long stick!"

All this might be viewed as incredibly exploitative and patronising nowadays of course.  But for someone like Sarah, this was really the only way to get noticed in early 19th Century society. But of course financially, she was exploited. Her paintings would sell for 3 guineas each (about £230 today) and she would charge to sign autographs and paint and sew ‘live’. But she only saw a fraction of these profits - receiving around £5 a year (£350) from them which - for comparison - was the average annual salary at that time of a domestic servant. Dukes, inevitably, profited the most. 

But, as mentioned, this was the way to get noticed. And get noticed, she did. In 1808, while making her regular appearance at the internationally acclaimed St Bartholomew Fair in London. 

L-R Bartholomew Fair, 1808, Thomas Rowlandson (Microcosm of London) - Wikipedia / Detail from etching by Thomas Rowlandson 1807 showing a poster of Sarah Biffin at the Fair. (Metropolitan Museum of Art NY)

All the fame of the fair! 

St Bartholomew's Fair was an historic London pleasure and trade fair that had been held since the 1100’s in Smithfield. It was an integral part of not just London, and not just England - but the international calendar.

For four days in early September, the fair would host freakshow and sideshow acts, acrobats, musicians, prize-fighters, puppet shows, waxworks, wild animals and, even, ‘exotic people’. And of course, lots of food and drink and revelry. Think Glastonbury for a modern, more woke equivalent (but without the hugely overpriced tickets - the fair was free!)

It was to this wild atmosphere for fun and revelry that Sarah was brought as a sideshow oddity/curiosity, and she caught the attention of The Earl of Morton, George Douglas. He put Sarah’s skills to the test, observing her painting to see if her talents were genuine. When he was convinced they were, he helped Sarah to gain lessons from a Royal Academy of Arts Painter WIlliam Craig, and from there gain the attention of King George III. The Earl enabled Sarah to leave Emmanuel Duke’s apprenticeship, he also sponsored her to open her own studio on the Strand. She was now an established and respected artist. 

Top to Bottom: Portrait of a Lady (unknown date), Queen Victoria (1848, Fanny Maria Pearson (c.1840), Earl of Morton (1808), Young child with puppy and dog (unknown date)

Marriage and Money woes..

Under the Earl’s patronage, Sarah’s career took off. She started painting for the Royal Family, and was commissioned by no less than 4 British monarchs : George III, George IV, William IV, and Victoria. Her fame reached the royal courts of Europe - and she even toured to Brussels with the Earl to paint the Royal Family there. Her work was accepted by the Royal Academy, and she received an award from the Society of Arts in 1821.

She went the equivalent of ‘viral’ back then when the author of the era, Charles Dickens himself, alluded to her in at least three of his classic novels (Martin Chuzzlewit, Little Dorrit and Nicholas Nickelby). However, Dickens, ever the feminist (not!) never extolled her talents but generally mocked or used her physical disability to portray his less salubrious characters. But hey, no publicity is bad poublicity, right? 

It took an important man (the Earl) to sponsor Sarah to fame and financial security.  And, sadly it was also a man who took it all away from her, or at least, nearly. 

In 1824, aged 39, she married a banker’s clerk called William Wright. Women were at this time the property of their husbands, and not expected to work or (God forbid!) make money independently of their husbands. But, if they did,  that money would be owned by their husbands.  Wright duly put himself in control of Sarah’s earned wealth, stopped her painting, and paid her a salary (from her own money!) of £40 a year (about £4-5000 today). 

The couple eventually separated, and then Sarah’s noble patron, the Earl of Morton, died in 1827. This left Sarah in a precarious and vulnerable financial position. Her ex had run off with her money, and she didn’t have her wealthy sponsor. So she did what she’d always done to support herself. She returned to painting, and exhibited at the Royal Academy.

Fortunately, by the 1840’s, when Sarah was in her 50’s, Queen Victoria - who had been one of her Royal commissioners -  awarded her a Civil List pension of £12 per year. Sarah then retired to Liverpool and carried on painting there independently, and her friends and supporters funded her in her final years. Interestingly, the ‘crowd-funding’ that was initiated for her attempted to raise money from Charles Dickens. Despite mentioning her in his novels, he wouldn't donate to her fund. 

Sarah died in fairly reduced circumstances in 1850 in Liverpool, and was buried in St James Cemetery.  

Self portrait, 1830.

Legacy 

Sarah remains the first recorded British mouth painter and one of the most prolific artists of her generation, producing hundreds of miniatures, many that to this day remain unknown or undiscovered. 

But for more than 100 years after her death, she was ignored by history. Her grave stone has long since disappeared. And although she was well respected by many and much loved, she certainly wasn't as wealthy in her lifetime as she should have been, thanks to exploitative men in her life and patriarchal systems that sidelined her in her afterlife! She languished in relative obscurity, in fact, until very recently. 

Such is the lot of so many ‘re-discovered’ female artists written out of the history books.   Art history, and indeed the art world, has always been particuarly elitist. Many famous female creatives from history have either had to use male names or publish their work under their husbands names* in order to be recognised. Sarah’s visible difference meant that she couldnt really remain ‘anonymous’ and in any case it was her physical difference that, ironically, elevated her career.  She probably wouldn’t have been as famous had she been a regular working class female arrtist. But she would also likely have been more famous (and wealthier) had she been a disabled male artist. 

*(Also, one of the reasons that so much of Sarah's work remains unidentified is because she signed her works for a time under her married name)

In my view, it’s a travesty that Sarah Biffin does not have a grand tomb, and isn't more widely known. Why are we not taught about her in schools? Where are the oscar-winning films about her story? 

As not only a woman artist,  but a disabled woman artist with a talent comparable to most of her able-bodied male contemporaries  living in the 18th/19th century,  she’s an incredible inspiration. She's also a stark reminder of the way HIStory continues to try to write women -  not to mention disabled people - out of its narratives. 

Sarah’s original tombstone epitaph has been preserved. Here is what it said:

‘Few have passed through the vale of life so much the child of hapless fortune as the deceased: and yet possessor of mental endowments of no ordinary kind. Gifted with singular talents as an artist, thousands have been gratified with the able productions of her pencil! Whilst versatile conversation and agreeable manner elicited the admiration of all.’

Sarah was a powerhouse in her lifetime.  and we must not forget her. And we won’t now, that’s for sure.  Her works now fetch hundreds of thousands of pounds at auction. in 2019 one of her self-portraits sold for £137,500. Which reminds me of a great quote I once had stitched on a tote bag: 

Buy art from living artists, because the dead ones dont need the money. 

Guy James Whitworth 

As a former artist myself, I couldn't agree more. And im sure Sarah Biffin is somewhere, nodding away at the same sentiment.