Five Overlooked Women of the Pre-Raphaelites

Table of Contents

• Introduction
• Evelyn De Morgan (1855–1919)
• Elizabeth Siddal (1829–1862)
• Fanny Eaton (1835–1924)
• Marie Spartali Stillman (1844–1927)
• Joanna Mary Boyce (1831–1861)
• Conclusion

Introduction

When we think of the Pre-Raphaelites, the names that usually come to mind are Dante Gabriel Rossetti, John Everett Millais, and William Holman Hunt—the founding members of the so-called “Brotherhood” who sought to return art to a purer, more vivid vision inspired by early Renaissance painters. Yet the Pre-Raphaelite story was never exclusively male. Women were central to its imagery, creativity, and ideals. Some were celebrated muses, their faces immortalised in oil paint, while others wielded brushes, pens, and critical voices of their own. Despite their contributions, many remain overshadowed by their male contemporaries. This article explores five such women whose legacies deserve greater recognition.

Evelyn De Morgan (1855–1919)

Although she came slightly later than the original Brotherhood, Evelyn De Morgan embodied the Pre-Raphaelite spirit through her luminous canvases and richly symbolic themes. Born Mary Evelyn Pickering in London in 1855, she was the niece of pioneering suffragist Sarah Price and grew up in a family that valued education. She trained at the Slade School of Art—a rare opportunity for women at the time—where she excelled and determined to pursue a professional artistic career, signing her works simply “Evelyn” to avoid gender bias.

De Morgan’s paintings often fused Pre-Raphaelite aesthetic detail with allegorical and spiritual symbolism. Works such as Hope in a Prison of Despair (1887) and S.O.S. (1914–16) reflect her concerns with women’s rights, pacifism, and moral reform. She rejected the purely decorative or romantic roles often assigned to women artists and instead used her canvases to engage with pressing social and political issues. Her art expressed both personal spirituality and public conscience, ranging from mystical visions of light and liberation to searing critiques of war and materialism.

Unlike Elizabeth Siddal or Joanna Mary Boyce, whose careers were cut short, De Morgan sustained her practice for decades, exhibiting widely and earning a professional reputation in both Britain and Europe. Her marriage to the ceramicist William De Morgan, himself a reform-minded artist, created a dynamic partnership in which both supported each other’s creative work. Together, they moved in circles that combined the Pre-Raphaelite legacy with the Aesthetic and Symbolist movements, broadening the reach of her vision.

Yet, despite producing a substantial body of sophisticated and evocative work, De Morgan’s name remains far less familiar than those of Rossetti or Burne-Jones. Like Marie Spartali Stillman, she persisted in forging a career while balancing societal expectations, and like Fanny Eaton, her role was long neglected in mainstream accounts of Victorian art. Today, however, her paintings are increasingly recognised as powerful contributions to both Pre-Raphaelite and Symbolist traditions, offering a reminder that women artists were not only present but often at the forefront of artistic innovation.

Elizabeth Siddal (1829–1862)

Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal is remembered by most as the ethereal figure in John Everett Millais’s Ophelia (1852), floating in a river strewn with flowers—a pose that became one of the most iconic images of the Victorian era. Yet this narrow view of Siddal as merely a muse or tragic beauty does her a profound disservice. Like Evelyn De Morgan and Marie Spartali Stillman, Siddal was a serious artist in her own right, producing work that reflected her unique vision rather than simply inspiring the work of others.

Born in London in 1829 to a working-class family, Siddal was discovered in a milliner’s shop by artist Walter Deverell, who invited her to model. Her striking features and red hair quickly made her a favourite among the Brotherhood, but unlike many other models, she was encouraged to cultivate her own artistic practice. Dante Gabriel Rossetti, who became her mentor and later her husband, supported her studies and introduced her to influential patrons such as the art critic John Ruskin. Ruskin purchased many of her works, giving her financial independence for a time—an extraordinary step for a woman artist in mid-Victorian England.

Siddal’s paintings and drawings, often delicate watercolours, were characterised by elongated figures, dreamlike settings, and a sense of melancholy that paralleled her poetry. Works such as Clerk Saunders (1857) show her originality and command of narrative, while her verses convey themes of love, death, and longing in a voice that was uniquely her own. In this, she shares something with Joanna Mary Boyce, whose writings also shaped the critical debates of the time, and with Fanny Eaton, whose presence broadened the Brotherhood’s visual vocabulary in ways later forgotten.

Tragically, her life was marred by chronic ill health, the stillbirth of her only child, and a growing dependence on laudanum. She died in 1862 at just 32 years old, her story forever entwined with the romantic mythos of Rossetti, who buried a manuscript of his poems in her coffin. While this dramatic gesture has often overshadowed her achievements, it is vital to remember Siddal as more than a tragic muse. Like Boyce, whose career was cut short by mortality, and Eaton, whose identity was long erased, Siddal’s story reminds us of how women’s contributions to the Pre-Raphaelite movement were constrained or overlooked. Yet her surviving work reveals a voice of sensitivity, resilience, and originality—one that deserves recognition alongside her male peers.

Fanny Eaton (1835–1924)

Fanny Eaton’s story expands our understanding of Pre-Raphaelite art in ways too often overlooked. Born in St Andrew, Jamaica, in 1835 to Matilda Foster, a free woman of colour, Eaton moved with her mother to London as a child. In 1857 she married James Eaton, a cab driver, and over the years she raised ten children, supporting her family through domestic work while also becoming a sought-after artist’s model. Her striking features, combining African and European heritage, gave her a presence that Victorian artists found compelling.

Between the late 1850s and 1860s, Eaton modelled for some of the leading figures of the Pre-Raphaelite and wider Victorian art world. Dante Gabriel Rossetti sketched her distinctive profile, while John Everett Millais and Albert Moore also used her as a model. Perhaps most famously, Simeon Solomon painted her as the central figure in The Mother of Moses (1860), a work exhibited at the Royal Academy. She also posed for Solomon’s sister, Rebecca, herself a professional painter. In these works Eaton often appeared in biblical or allegorical roles, her presence quietly challenging the era’s narrow, Anglo-Saxon ideals of beauty.

For many decades, Eaton’s contributions went unrecognised. Her image was misattributed, anonymous, or simply forgotten, and the story of the Pre-Raphaelites was told as though it belonged exclusively to white models and muses. Yet her likeness is woven through some of the Brotherhood’s most memorable paintings, subtly expanding the visual language of Victorian art to include Black and mixed-race subjects. Eaton’s career as a model lasted for nearly a decade, before she returned to domestic service. Widowed by 1881, she continued working to support her large family, living into her late eighties. She died in 1924 in Acton, London.

Today, Fanny Eaton is being reclaimed as a crucial figure in Pre-Raphaelite history. Her life and work were celebrated in the National Portrait Gallery’s 2019 exhibition Pre-Raphaelite Sisters, where she was recognised not only as a model but as a woman of resilience and influence. In restoring her identity, we also restore a truer, more diverse picture of the Victorian art world.

Marie Spartali Stillman (1844–1927)

Marie Spartali Stillman was born in London in 1844 to a prominent Greek family and grew up in a cultured, cosmopolitan environment. Tall, striking, and celebrated for her beauty, she quickly became known among the Pre-Raphaelite circle as one of their celebrated “stunners.” Yet her legacy extends far beyond her appearance: she was one of the most prolific and enduring women artists associated with the movement.

Encouraged by her family and trained under Ford Madox Brown, Spartali Stillman developed a distinctive style rooted in Pre-Raphaelite ideals but softened by her own poetic sensibility. Over the course of her career she produced more than 150 works, many inspired by literature, mythology, and the Italian Renaissance. Love’s Messenger (1885), perhaps her best-known work, exemplifies her delicate use of colour, meticulous detail, and atmosphere of melancholy reverie. Her canvases often depicted wistful figures in gardens or interiors, blending Pre-Raphaelite intensity with a lyrical, contemplative mood.

Unlike many women of her circle, Spartali Stillman managed to sustain her artistic career while also marrying and raising a family. In 1871 she wed American journalist and painter William J. Stillman, with whom she lived between London, Florence, and Rome. This international life gave her access to new artistic influences, but also required her to balance family responsibilities with her vocation as a painter. Despite these challenges, she exhibited regularly in Britain and the United States, contributing to the Grosvenor Gallery in London and to exhibitions in Boston and New York.

Yet, despite her significant output and critical recognition during her lifetime, Spartali Stillman’s name remains less well-known than those of Rossetti, Burne-Jones, or even some of her female contemporaries. Too often she has been reduced to her beauty or her role as a model, rather than celebrated as an accomplished painter in her own right. Today, her work stands as a testament to her persistence, skill, and unique artistic voice—one that deserves to be placed firmly within the canon of Pre-Raphaelite art.

Joanna Mary Boyce (1831–1861)

Joanna Mary Boyce was hailed in her own time as one of the most gifted and promising painters of her generation. Born in London in 1831, she studied at Cary’s School of Art and later in Paris under the academic painter Thomas Couture, where she absorbed both rigorous technique and a flair for expressive colour. From an early age she was determined to pursue painting seriously—a bold choice for a Victorian woman—and quickly established herself as an artist of real originality.

Her portraits and figure studies, including Elgiva (1855) and The Boys’ Crusade (1860), display a mastery of colour and composition that drew high praise from contemporary critics. John Ruskin, a notoriously exacting voice, admired her work, while Ford Madox Brown spoke of her “uncommon power.” Beyond her canvases, Boyce was also an articulate art critic, publishing essays in journals such as The Saturday Review, where she demonstrated a sharp eye and thoughtful perspective on artistic trends. She was not only painting but also shaping the intellectual conversation around art in her era.

Her artistic life was closely tied to that of her brother, George Price Boyce, a successful watercolourist associated with the Pre-Raphaelites. George was a friend and patron of Dante Gabriel Rossetti and other Brotherhood members, and through him Joanna moved within the same creative circles. The siblings’ shared passion for art created a supportive environment for her ambitions at a time when women artists often faced isolation. This connection further rooted Joanna in the Pre-Raphaelite movement, even as she developed her own distinct voice.

In 1857 she married fellow artist Henry Tanworth Wells, and they had two children. Tragically, Boyce’s life and career were cut short in 1861 when she died of complications following the birth of her third child. She was just thirty years old. Despite this brevity, her surviving body of work reveals not only technical brilliance but also a remarkable depth of psychological insight and sensitivity to character.

Joanna Mary Boyce stands as a poignant example of the many women in nineteenth-century art whose voices were stilled by social constraints and mortality before their potential could be fully realised. Today, her paintings are treasured in collections such as Tate Britain and the Yale Center for British Art, where they remind us of the talent and promise that was lost too soon.

Finally

The Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood is often remembered as a story of rebellious young men seeking beauty and truth through art. Yet the “Brotherhood” was never solely male. Alongside Rossetti, Millais, and Hunt stood women who painted, wrote, inspired, and redefined the movement in ways that remain underappreciated. To tell their stories is not to diminish the men, but to complete the picture.

Evelyn De Morgan channelled the Pre-Raphaelite spirit into luminous allegories that confronted war, inequality, and the search for spiritual light, carrying the movement’s ideals into the twentieth century. Elizabeth Siddal, so often cast as a passive muse, wrote poetry and painted with a voice that was delicate yet insistent, challenging us to see her as an artist in her own right. Fanny Eaton, a Jamaican-born model, broadened the visual vocabulary of Victorian art, her likeness quietly disrupting the narrow racial ideals of beauty that dominated her age. Marie Spartali Stillman, balancing family life with a prolific career across two countries, proved that a woman could be both a Pre-Raphaelite “stunner” and a painter of lasting significance. Joanna Mary Boyce, whose promise was cut short by an early death, left behind a body of work and criticism that testify to her brilliance and remind us of all that was lost through circumstance and constraint.

What unites these women is not a single style or story, but a shared determination to create, to contribute, and to be seen. Each faced different challenges—illness, prejudice, family responsibilities, premature death—yet each carved out space within a movement that claimed beauty as its highest calling. Together, they reveal that the Pre-Raphaelite vision was never the work of a Brotherhood alone, but of a wider community of voices.

By recovering their contributions, we gain not only a fuller picture of the Pre-Raphaelites but also a deeper understanding of how women shaped the artistic revolutions of the nineteenth century. In celebrating their achievements, we resist the erasures of history and honour a legacy that is far richer, more diverse, and more human than the myths we inherit.

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