J. B. Haggin Sued by Princess Who Painted Portrait

Sat in Chair Used by Kaiser, and Artist Values Her Work at $25,000.

Princess Lwoff-Parlaghy, through her attorney, Alton B. Parker, brought an action yesterday against James B. Haggin, mining man and horse fancier, for $25,000, which she alleges he agreed to pay to her for painting his portrait.

To explain the reason for the litigation the Princess consented to see me in her atelier in the Plaza Hotel. She said that Mr. Haggin, who is more than ninety years old, agreed to pay $25,000 to her for painting his portrait, and when it was finished he told her all he could afford to give was $10,000, which, the Princess asserted, she refused.

Princess Lwoff-Parlaghy has painted portraits of several of the crowned heads of Europe, and a picture which gained for her much renown as an artist was one she made in Bismarck.

In the mellow light of the spacious room of her apartment I found the Princess seated comfortably on a Louis XVI. sofa of red and gold. Her gown was of green and gold — her hair is true titian — and on her corsage she wore a crown of rubies and diamonds, which she said was a gift from Prince Bismarck. Around her were portraits of prominent personages, including August Belmont, the late Whitelaw Reid, Seth Low, General Horace Porter, the Marquis de Beauvoir, Chauncey M. Depew, Hudson Maxim, General von Moltke and the Grand Duke of Baden.

But the Princess’ thoughts were centred on the portrait of Mr. Haggin, which is in the hall on the second floor of his home, No. 1 East Sixty-fourth street.

“There are just three persons whom I have painted in that Catherine de Medici chair — Kaiser Wilhelm, General von Moltke and Mr. Haggin,” said the Princess. “He liked to have his portrait painted in that chair, did Mr. Haggin. It made a larger picture and I must charge him more than Mr. Belmont, who paid $20,000 for his portrait. So I say $25,000. He made two sittings for a smaller canvas. But I could not do it so small.

“As Mr. Haggin insisted on the big chair I was obliged to begin again, and then I made a good picture. Mr. Parker asks me how it was that I have not mentioned the big chair. I did say it to Mr. Haggin and also that he was one of three men who had been painted in that seat. Mr. Haggin told me he liked so much the picture he would not sell it for $50,000 or $100,000.”

Cutting Down the Price.

“‘I am a poor man,’ he told me, ‘and all I can offer you is $10,000. Can you not cut down the price?’

“‘How much cut down?’ I ask. He told me. I say, ‘I’ll cut down — yes, $2,000.’ Mr. Haggin say it is not enough. I have worked on the picture for more than a month — five weeks. I lost a good deal of time. When he slept I could not paint. I have my apartment here to keep up. It is only here that I can paint masterpieces. I could not do it on the fourteenth floor in a small room. To paint I must be surrounded with every luxury. Mr. Haggin wants me to live like a poor artist and to paint masterpieces, but I cannot.”

Here F. Delivis, representative of the Princess, went to the atelier door, which was pushed open, and Dr. Strebel, bearing an ancient brass platter, entered the room. On the platter was a crimson glass set in a golden holder.

“Take it,” said the Princess to me. “It is just a little mineral water for you, as I thought it is so very hot.”

Continuing her story the Princess said that she was made a member of the Museum of Natural History for having given to that institution her painting of Joseph H. Choate.

“It must be remembered that I paint some men for nothing. I make the pictures of Mr. Maxim, Nicola Tesla and others because of their great names. Yes, I like to make a portrait of a man who has done something, that is why I paint mostly old men. For women I have a stroke that is too strong. To paint them I must be smooth.

“It costs me about $80,000 a year to live,” she said. “You see, I get 1,300,000f., but when I am here it is so very little.

“I have antiques worth $3,000,000 in that room,” the Princess resumed. “They must be there to give me inspiration, so that when I charge $25,000 for a big portrait painted in the Catherine de’ Medici chair — it is not so very much, eh? I came to this country after I talked to the German Emperor. I come to paint the big men. I know the cost of my living is much, but Mr. Delivis knows better than I how much I spend.”

The Princess arose and walked majestically to the Gothic room, which, she said, never before was viewed by a newspaper man. She toyed gracefully with a Palissy ornament said to be worth $50,000, and gazed upon a tiger’s skin presented to her by an Indian rajah.

“Yes,” she said, “it is a shame that Mr. Haggin is such a poor man that he cannot pay me $25,000 for the portrait, when it requires so many costly things to stimulate my imagination. He likes the portrait, but tells me that he is so poor.”

Mr. Haggin would not see me. It was said, however, by Arthur McCausland, of Mr. Parker’s office, that Mr. Haggin declared that he never understood the price of the portrait was to be $25,000.