MRS. EDMUND HELPS thinks that if Mr. Horsley could have
made up his mind to put his recollections into shape some years earlier, a more important work might have been produced. It is possible ; but we may be well content with what we have,—a clear, harmonious picture of life, flooded, so to speak, with the golden light of a peaceful sunset. John Callcott Horsley came of an artistic race. His father was a musician of high repute—" By Celia's Arbour " was one of his most popular compositions—his mother's father, John Callcott, was distinguished in the same line ; and a great-uncle, John Augustus Callcott, was a Royal Academician. His taste for art was early shown. It was the recognised way of quieting him when he was restless or discontented to give him a scrap of paper and a pencil. At eleven be was portrait painter in ordinary to the Horsley and Callcott families,—a numerous race. After a passing fancy for the Navy—more common, we imagine, among the boys of that generation than of this—he settled down to the profession of art, beginning his education at a well-known private academy of the day. A portrait of an aunt—Sophie, one of the two "Kensington Sweet Peas "—greatly pleased Sir Thomas Lawrence. The great man invited the artist—a lad of twelve, it must be remembered—to breakfast. Before the day came Lawrence was dead ; we see that the old man vividly recollected the bitter disappointment of more than seventy years before. In • Recollections of a Royal Academician. By John Callcott Horsley, E.A. Edited by Mrs. Edmund Helps. London : John Murray. 1128. net.]
of them, "Rival Musicians," is now in the Sheepshanks Gallery—and won the Academy medal for a drawing from the antique. He was child enough, when his mother offered him by way of reward any dainty among her stores, to choose damson cheese. At sixteen he exhibited in the Royal Academy a kitcat portrait of the great pianist, Ignace Moscheles, who was then Professor at the Academy. (Two portraits were sent, but one was rejected, the only failure of his whole artistic life.) By this time the patron was beginning to become an important person. His earliest experience was with John Sheepshanks. Sheepshanks had already bought "Rival Musicians," and he now purchased "Youth and Age," which is to be seen in company with the other. Another well- known patron, Vernon, did not create so favourable an impres- sion. A recent work by Horsley had been mentioned to him by Sir David Wilkie—always spoken of in this volume in the most kindly way—and he came to see it. It pleased him, and he agreed to give fifty pounds. " Including the frame " he aclied. Satisfied as to this, he would know the price of the frame. This was given at five pounds. " Well, you see," he went on, "that is not my pattern of frame, and so you will not object to letting me have it without one ; that would make the price forty-five pounds." Vernon was not so successful with Thomas Webster, from whom he bought a picture marked at thirty guineas. "You see," he said, " there are no guineas nowadays." " No," answered Webster ; " thirty-one pounds ten shillings." Vernon had been a job-master. It was a good time for collectors when prices ruled so low. Nowadays, though it is scarcely a golden age for the multitude of people who seek to live by the brush, at least the "upper ten" are well paid. On this matter Mr. Horsley has very little to say. It would have been something if the editor could have given us a list of his pictures.
On matters that concern the technique of his art the veteran painter has much that is interesting to say. He was one of the artists who suffered by the unlucky affair of the frescoes in the Houses of Parliament. He came fourth in the competition of designs, winning a prize of two hundred pounds. The frescoes were executed, but most of the artists who painted them lived long enough .to see them pass into a condition of decay. Mr. Horsley attributes this deplorable result to the want of fresh air and to the use of gas. But there is no doubt that ignorance of the process, which, indeed, was quite a novelty in this country, had something to do with it. Other disasters, not dissimilar in kind, have followed from the same cause. Among them is the deplorable fate which has overtaken some of the works of William Hilton. Hilton was for twelve years (1827-1839) Keeper of the Academy. The students; one of whom was Horsley, "positively idolised him," and showed their affection by buying- one of his last pictures, " Sir Calepine Rescuing Serena," and presenting it to the National
Gallery. Unhappily it had been painted on asphaltum, and after hanging for eight months—the writer of this review remembers seeing it at the time—the medium began to run. It was taken down and put into hospital ; but nothing could repair the damage, and the picture has practically perished. The story of how another picture by the same artist was ruined is not without pathos. This, " The Finding
of the Dead Body of Harold," was executed in the days of his extreme poverty, when he was compelled to buy his materials as cheaply as possible. The wax he purchased was adulterated with mutton-fat. A very curious story is told by Mr. Horsley about one of his own pictures. It was sent back to him with the complaint that it was " cracked all over." The purchaser, on being questioned, confessed that he had sent it to a coachbuilder to be revarnished! The varnish used
for a coach has, of course, to be somewhat tough, and when it was removed it dragged off with it some of the paint; with
this exception the picture was restored without damage. On the subject of Turner's technical skill, Mr. Horsley is enthu- siastic. Here is a carious example of it`.— "Turner was endless in his artistic resources. At one time I studied almost daily one of his finest water-colours, called. I think, The Snowdon Range,' which was a marvel from end to end, so exquisitely beautiful in itself and perfect in its executive power. The theme was the combination of the last rays of the setting sun and a moonrise. Thera was one passage that I feasted upon again and again. It was the tender warmth of the light clouds encircling the moon, and I tried all kinds of glasses to see if I could learn how it was done, but failed to satisfy myself. Just at that time the drawing began to buckle' from its mount, and I discussed many times with its owner, the present Sir Seymour Haden, my brother-in-law, the doctor and admirable etcher, what measures should be taken respecting this un- pleasing development. At that time we had in London a supremely able mounter of drawings of the name of Hogarth, whose advice it was determined to ask. We showed the drawing to him, and he said it must be taken off the old mount and remounted. Haden said, But how do you get it off ?' And I shall not forget the horror of his look when Hogarth answered, Well, sir, we must put it in a bath.' How- ever, after much persuasion, linden agreed to trust the drawing to his care. To his great alarm he received a note very shortly, begging him to call without delay. He did so, and rushed into Hogarth's shop exclaiming, ' What is it, what is it! Have you spoilt the drawing P' No, no, sir, we have got it off beautifully, but having so often heard Mr. Horsley speak of the rosy tint round the moon, I thought you would be interested to know that I have discovered how it was obtained !' He produced the drawing, and turned it on its face. There was a revelation ! A circle of orange vermilion had been plastered on the back with an ivory palette knife where he wanted the effect, and then worked sufficiently far through the pores of the previously wetted paper to give the show of colour, while retaining the smooth surface without a trace of workmanship on the right aide."
There are many good stories in the volume; but for the most part they are better in their setting than out of it. One, however, may be detached. It will certainly entertain a mul- titude of people who know something by experience of what is now one of the most flourishing and effective schools in England :—
" Mr. Lindsay was the tutor of the twelve boys, who then con- stituted the school. He was not an early riser, so he arranged that his class should come up to his bedroom for their lessons at eight o'clock every morning. I remember well seeing him sitting up in his old four-poster, propped by pillows and swathed in a flannel dressing-gown of a quaint design, a tasselled nightcap of the period on his head, and a long clay pipe in his mouth, while grouped round the bed were the twelve scholars repeating their lessons. It made a never-to-be-forgotten picture."
The master with dressing-gown and pipe and his twelve scholars have been developed into Dulwich College.
Previous page
