Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2118 page)

* The Cholera and the Reform Bill riots.

** Referring to the public appointment of a Fast Day.

“I have, since the spring, as usual, projected many
great
works. What is to become of them; whether we shall have another Exhibition at all, or whether, if we do, “The House of Delegates” will demand the produce of it, or whether the present aspect of affairs in Art may brighten after starvation has thinned the ranks of the artists, I know not; but as I am unfit for anything but painting, I go on, letting
no day pass without a line;
and, in justice to my stars, I must add, deriving new delights from my calling, ‘as if increase of appetite had grown by what it fed on.’ Were I not already ashamed of writing so much about myself, and what I think upon high matters, I should fairly tire you out. For the present, then, thanking you for your kind recollection of me, and most sincerely hoping I may soon see you in increased health and spirits,

“I am, most faithfully yours,

“WILLIAM COLLINS.”

Though he writes jestingly, the painter had good reason to refer to the “great works “ projected since the spring, which he notices in the above letter; for this autumn the well-known cottage scene, called, “Rustic Civility,” shared his easel with the arduous experiment of the picture of “Skittle-players.” Indeed, during the present year, the history of his life must be comprised in the history of his works. In the general panic of the times, when even social meetings and public amusements partook in a great degree in the disastrous influences that governed more important matters; when people thought more of preventives against infection than of invitations to assemblies, and found more interest in Parliamentary debates than in literary or pictorial novelties; the painter’s usual visits and amusements suffered a temporary suspension. Thrown therefore upon his own resources more than usual, he naturally turned the more gladly to those projects in his Art which have been already noticed, and to those family pleasures which, being uninteresting to others, in proportion as they are delightful to those whom they most intimately concern, it is useless to refer to here. Of such anecdotes therefore of his intercourse with his fellow-painters and with the world, as have hitherto followed his progress in these pages, none present themselves during this year; and for those descriptions of his foreign adventures and foreign impressions, which have still to be recorded, the time has not yet come. It is for this reason that the present survey of his life will pass at once to the next season’s Exhibition, in compliance with the plan of arrangement which has been adopted in these pages, to avoid the presentation of matter publicly uninteresting, viz., that of leaving all the intermediate portions of Mr. Collins’s biography, from his birth to his death, to be limited and divided by the
events,
and not the
years,
of his life; thus securing, it is hoped, an equal diffusion of the incident and subject which it presents, over the whole surface of the present work.

The Exhibition of 1832, opened under the most unfavourable circumstances of commercial, political, and general depression. My father’s contributions to it, were three in number:- the picture of “Skittle-players;” “Rustic Civility;” and a small sea-piece, called “Fisher Boys.”

The general characteristics presented by the “Skittle-players” to the spectator, were — a strikingly original composition of eight principal, and eight second and third-rate figures; a disposition of light and shade, harmonious and scientific; and a tone of colour, brilliant, various and true. Of its more particular merits of story and character; of drawing, arrangement and execution, a more careful and particular review is required.

The skittle-ground is the stage on which the characters of the picture are displayed. It runs up obliquely, from the right-hand foreground, to the left-hand centre, of the composition. The game has been hotly contested for some time; and the decisive moment has now arrived. Five skittles are down; and four, in difficult situations, remain up, to be levelled at one stroke, if the game is to be won. Under a picturesque old shed, which occupies the middle of the picture, and on a line to the right of the skittles beneath it, stand three of the players — a cobler, a blacksmith, and another man. The two last, press forwards towards the skittles, in their over-anxiety to witness the decisive “throw;” but the cobler is too enthusiastic about the fairness of the game, to permit the possibility of their interfering with it, in any way. With his raggedly-clad legs fixed firmly on the ground, his aproned body bent forward in intense expectation, and his lanky arms stretched out horizontally on each side of him, he bars the sturdy blacksmith and his friend from advancing another step; while he turns his face in the all-alluring direction of the playing man. This figure is placed in the right-hand foreground of the picture. His back is towards the spectator, one of his legs is in a bending position, the other is stretched behind him to its fullest extent. His head is thrown back, and he is exerting his utmost strength, at the moment of “delivering” the heavy ball. The “pose” of this figure is magnificent clothed though he is, the violent muscular effort, the athletic fling of his whole body, is discernible in every limb. The perfect correctness in the drawing of this difficult and original attitude, preserves it from the slightest appearance of exaggeration, and makes the bold nature of its intention immediately apparent to the most ignorant eye. At the left-hand side of the skittle-shed, three lads, squeezing themselves half-through the aperture in the poles that support it, and watching the game with speechless eagerness, complete the skittle-observing and skittle-playing groups. The figures in the other division of the picture, finely contrast, in their comfortable, careless attitudes, with the agitation and action of the rest of the scene; but are preserved from any appearance of artificial separation, by the skill of the composition, which, though dividing them by almost the whole breadth of the picture, from the man bowling, connects them naturally with his companions, by the propinquity of a table, round which they are grouped, to the backs of the lads who are watching the game. One burly sun-burnt fellow, is lighting his pipe at a tallow-candle, placed on the table. A hearty, handsome, benevolent old farmer, sits next him, (in the left-hand foreground,) feeling for a piece of money in his waistcoat pocket, while he jests good-humouredly with a roguish little apple-girl, on the quality of the fruit she is offering to him for sale. Near the apple-girl, is the clumsy red-haired pot-boy of the inn, replenishing a mug of ale from his can, while the public-house dog by his side, sniffs inquiringly at the bright froth above a jug just filled. Beyond the table, and further towards the left-hand distance, “mine host” stands at his own door, giving a direction to a female pedlar and her child, at whom his wife looks suspiciously over his shoulder: while, still further, two little boys are walking through the public-house gate, with a jug of beer, towards the village, which is partially indicated in the distance. The branches of a large tree — the foliage of which is painted with wonderful intelligence and skill — extend over the roof of the skittle-shed, and fill two-thirds of the upper part of the picture; the rest being occupied by a patch of sky, and the trees behind the public-house. Such are the characteristics of this remarkable work which come within the imperfect limits of description. Of the dispositions of colour — powerful without exaggeration, and harmonious without monotony; of the “execution” — in which finish never degenerates into feebleness, nor solidity into coarseness; of the minute study of Nature — without meanness, or vulgarity — which the picture displays throughout, an idea can only be gained from a sight of the work itself. As an assertion of the versatility of the painter’s powers, its success was triumphant: but one opinion prevailed, as to the high rank it held among the works of its class. It was called, punningly, in reference to the attitude of the principal figure, and the advance in excellence that it displayed — ”Collins’s
stride.”
But the most amusing criticism on its merits, proceeded from Mr. Collins’s gardener; who, as a great skittle-player, was called in to test the correctness of the picture, as to its main subject. “Well!” cried that horticultural functionary, with genuine delight — ”this is as downright a tough game, as ever I
see!”
Such a “dictum,” coming from such a quarter, was to the painter as decisive a testimony to the truth of his picture, as was the laugh of Moliere’s old housekeeper to the excellence of his jokes, when the great dramatist read them to her in manuscript, before he committed them to the stage.

Yet, complete as was the success of this picture with the public, so universal was the depression that prevailed this year over the monied world, that no one, during its Exhibition both at the Royal Academy and the British Institution, was willing to become its purchaser, at the price which, by Wilkie’s advice, Mr. Collins had demanded for it. Its existence and its merits were not however forgotten, when it was removed from the public view. As the affairs of the country brightened, and pictures of worth appeared, even as commercial speculations, to retain their importance as property of actual value, several offers were made for it, but still at a somewhat smaller price than the painter required and was still determined to require for it; viz, — four hundred guineas. It remained therefore on his hands, until the year 1844; when two gentlemen, each anxious to purchase it at the artist’s price, came to his house on the same day — an interval of a quarter of an hour only, elapsing between their visits. The first, and consequently the successful applicant, was Mr. George Young, (an early and intimate friend of Sir David Wilkie’s,) in whose collection the picture is now placed.

The cottage scene, called “Rustic Civility,” was beautifully engraved in the “Literary Souvenir,” by Outrim. It was sold at the Royal Academy, to the Duke of Devonshire; and was repeated by the painter, for Mr. Sheepshanks. With its perfect simplicity of subject, and its beautiful woodland landscape, this work was well adapted to hold its ground successfully, even against its more elabourate and ambitious companion. The ragged, good-tempered lad, who holds back the gate for the ‘squire to ride through; the two smaller children, looking towards the new-comer — one roguishly ambushed behind the bars of the gate, the other hiding itself against its elder brother, and peeping out with wild shyness from his side — are unsurpassed, in their grace and nature, by any of the artist’s figures of this description. But the picture had, independently of these qualities, a peculiar element of success, which consisted in the novelty of the manner in which the approach of the traveller, for whom the cottagers are opening the gate, is indicated; nothing being seen of him in the composition, but the shadow of his horse and himself, which is thrown on the foreground, as preceding him. This experiment, whether it be regarded as intimating the story of the picture with equal fancy and novelty, or as a new exhibition of the graphic powers of Art, must be admitted to display that thorough originality of thought and purpose, which forms the most indisputable credential of genius, in its appeals to the attention of the world.

The delicate little sea-piece, called “Fisher Boys,” made a worthy third, in the series of successful works exhibited by Mr. Collins during this year. It was sold to Mr. Burton Philips.

Having thus noticed the progress and effect of the painter’s labours in the Art at this period, it is next necessary to follow him in his autumn recreations. The principle of these consisted in country visits to Mr. Greene, M.P.; to Mr. Marshall; to Mr. Parry, at the Lakes; and, in company with Sir David Wilkie, to Sir Robert Peel, at Drayton Manor. His occupations and impressions during his absence from home will be found thus indicated in the following series of letters:

“To MRS. WILLIAM COLLINS.

“Whittington Hall, Kirkby-Lonsdale,

“Aug. 11th, 1832.

“I know jour anxiety to hear from me, and therefore assure you of my safe arrival in this beautiful country. My journey, though much longer than I expected, was less fatiguing than I could have thought; and although my cold has not entirely gone, I am already considerably better. I arrived here about eight o’clock on Thursday, and from eleven to eight on Friday have been flying about, visiting some of the most romantic spots in this lovely place. I am delighted with my host and hostess, — Mr. and Mrs. Greene. Mr. Greville and Miss Brackenbury form the rest of our party, and very pretty pastime we make amongst us. * * * To-morrow I hope to hear Mr. Carus Wilson, the rector of this place, to whom I was introduced yesterday. He seems a most amiable man, and bears an excellent character.

“The family here seem delightfully happy — everything goes on as it ought; prayers morning and evening, and their accompanying blessing cheerful and happy days. No dulness, no folly, — rational conversation: the beauty of the place, always suggesting the mercy and bounty of the Maker.” * * *

“Aug. 20th, 1832.

“I am just on the point of setting off for Ullswater, and I hope to reach Mr. Marshall’s by dinner-time. I cannot tell you how much I was delighted when I received your kind letter, just now. I see that I ought to have written on Saturday; but as you purposed writing at the end of the week, I thought it better to wait, in order to answer any part of your letter that might require a reply. I am sorry for your disappointment, and promise to gratify myself by more outward attention to all your little requirements; more inward and truly heartfelt attention to his wife, no one on earth desires to pay. So much for this little
contretemps!”
* * *