Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2138 page)

“Should I be mistaken, and it is intended only to employ those who will submit to competition, then, of course, arises the great difficulty; for it by no means follows that he who makes the best appearance in competition, will be the best able to carry into completion the work itself. Believe me, Dear Eastlake,

“Very faithfully yours,

“WILLIAM COLLINS.”

My father’s pictures of 1842, were thus entitled in the Royal Academy catalogue: “Prayer — a family about to leave their native shores, imploring Divine protection;” “Dominican Monks returning to the Convent — Bay of Naples;” “Sorrento — Bay of Naples; “ “Villa D’Este — Tivoli; “ “Welsh Guides — Llanberris, North Wales;” “A Scene at Aberystwith, Cardigan Bay, — with portraits of the three children of E. Antrobus, Esq.; “ “The Residence of the late Sir David Wilkie, at Kensington, — the last he inhabited before his fatal journey to Jerusalem.”

It may be remembered that the painter was described, on his first sojourn at Rome, as having been much impressed by a remarkable group he saw at the foot of the crucifix, in the Colosseum; and that it was further added, that although he never lived to paint the scene which he there beheld, he embodied its devotional sentiment in one of the finest of his Italian works: this work was the picture called “Prayer,” now under review.

A large crucifix is placed on rising ground in the composition, with its back towards the spectator. Here and there the imaged limbs of the crucified Saviour are partly visible beyond the heavy wooden cross, at the top of which, shining red against the darkening sky, is hung a lamp. The rays of this light shoot downwards, and illumine the figures of some peasants and their children, kneeling beneath the sacred symbol. One of the worshippers is a man, whose upturned face expresses a deep abstracted awe. The others are women — one gazing stedfastly on the crucifix, and another burying her face in her hands. Of the children, one is old enough to imitate the occupation of his elders; the other is only capable of looking at them in silent surprise; and the third is an infant in arms. At a little distance, on the shore, is the boat that is waiting to convey the travellers to their destination. The rest of the scene is filled by the sea, the mountains, and the sky, which are fading in the last rays of the short Italian twilight. The dark ocean is calm; the pure sky, already speckled here and there by a bright star, is clear throughout its expanse, saving near the western horizon, where the last clouds of evening are sailing slowly out of sight. The lamp on the crucifix, thus surrounded by the softly-gathering darkness, shines with singular purity on the eloquent faces of the worshippers beneath it. The soft, subdued character of the landscape, finely impressed with the mournful mysterious stillness of the last moments of evening, at once reflects the sentiment and increases the solemnity of the figures before the crucifix, as it rises in solitary height, lofty and distinct, where all around it is distant and obscure, — assuming a grandeur of aspect at once poetical and true. The purchaser of this fine work was the Marquis of Lansdowne.

Far different in character was the picture of “Dominican Monks returning to the Convent: “ all here breathes of gaiety, action, and sunlight. The monks have been out, levying contributions from the larders of the pious laity; and — evidently considering nothing that goes into the mouth “common or unclean” — have succeeded in loading mules, lay-brothers, and peasant boys, with provision for half the feast-days in the year. The advanced rank of monks and baggage-bearers is seen in the right-hand distance, winding up the steep road that leads to the convent. In the foreground marches the rearguard of this gastronomic brigade: seated lazily on their ambling mules, are two monks, — the one in his broad black hat, a Spanish friar, a visitor to the convent, — the other, the Dominican who has invited him. Both the holy fathers are talking with the easy gaiety and unctuous good-fellowship of men with the certainty of a capital dinner in perspective. Behind them is a mule, heavily laden with the carnal comforts of this life; and behind the mule trudges a lad, with a well-filled bag, containing the fag-end of the eatables, over his shoulder. The character of the monks, — whose lighter peculiarities the painter delighted to study, while in Italy, and with whom his attempts to “crack jokes” in bad Italian made him generally an immense favourite is admirably rendered. Both landscape and figures in the picture are delightfully bright and exhilarating. It was purchased by Mr. Colls; who disposed of it to Mr. Munro, of Navar.

“Sorrento — Bay of Naples,” was a repetition of the study from the upper end of the plain of Sorrento, mentioned in the account of the painter’s residence there, as containing in the foreground a strip of cornfield overhung by a large chestnut-tree; and in the distance, olive-gardens, the Mediterranean, and Vesuvius beyond. This picture, and its companion, “The Villa D’Este — Tivoli,” which depicted the famous avenue of cypresses, four hundred years old, with the terraces and the palace at the upper end of it — were both executed with great vigour and brilliancy; and were painted for Mr. Sheepshanks.

In the picture of “Welsh Guides,” the public found that their old favourite had lost none of his power of pleasing them in his accustomed manner by his three years’ discontinuance of his rustic English scenes. Here, in the three Welsh children waiting on the banks of a lake to act as guides to some pleasure-seekers, (whose approach is indicated by the shadow of the sail of their boat on the water in the foreground) appeared the same quaint truth and genuine simplicity, that had always characterized the little cottagers in his pictures. The gaping good- humour in the round open eyes of the boy-guide, and the rustic shyness in the face and figure of the younger girl by his side, are most happily transcribed from the painter’s original sketches at Llanberris, and display a freedom and nature thoroughly attractive to all classes of beholders. The landscape in this picture, formed by wood, hill, and mountain, is treated with delicacy and grace, and is perfectly characteristic of the scenery of Wales. Mr. Colls was the first purchaser of this work; it was afterwards sold by him to Mr. Joseph Gillott, of Birmingham.

The portraits of the children of Mr. Antrobus were treated with the picturesque effect always introduced by Mr. Collins into his works of this class. Representing the three little girls who formed his subjects, as about to set forth for a ride on donkeys along the sands at Aberystwith, with a boy waiting to attend on them, he produced a composition enabling him to exhibit all his skill in illustrating the coast scenery, which formed the bright and truthful background to the group. Valuable to its possessor for its correctness as a piece of portraiture, this work had the yet higher merit, for the public, of being interesting as a work of Art.

“The seventh picture of the year, “The View of Sir David Wilkie’s Residence,” claims especial notice as a striking testimony of Mr. Collins’s affection and esteem for the memory of his great brother painter. Not the least among his sources of regret, on the death of “Wilkie, was the reflection that he should have lived so short a time as he did to make use of the new painting-room which he had built at Kensington, and in which he had hoped, on his return, to pass so many years of delightful occupation in his Art. This room, thus mournfully connected with the destruction of the highest and dearest aspirations of its owner, acquired a deep and melancholy interest in my father’s eyes, which animated him with the desire to preserve some memorial of his friend’s study, and of the house to which it was attached, where he had spent so many cheerful hours, ere both passed into a stranger’s possession. The view of the dwelling, begun with this feeling, was taken from the large garden attached to it, embracing the painting-room and the whole back of the house, and was executed with scrupulous fidelity and care. When completed, Mr. Collins presented it to the sister of his departed friend; knowing that he could always see it at her house, and considering, with the delicacy of feeling which ever characterized him, that such an offering must have a value and an interest to her even greater than any that it could possess to him.

Such were the leading characteristics of my father’s works of this year, — greater in number, and in many respects more remarkable in variety than any he had ever painted. But a deeper and more significant importance belongs to this period of his career than was conferred on it by any extraordinary success in his Art; for it was in the spring of 1842 that the existence within him of the fatal disease which at length terminated his life was first discovered.

He was seized one night, just before his pictures were sent to the Royal Academy, with a violent attack of internal pain. Medical assistance was immediately procured, and his most urgent symptoms were relieved; but the doctor, Mr. Richardson, feeling some secret misgivings about the cause of the malady he had been called in to treat, and therefore unwilling to rest satisfied with only curing his patient of his temporary uneasiness, proceeded to examine him with the “stethescope.” The result of this investigation was such as to assure the doctor that Mr. Collins was labouring under organic disease of the heart.

This discovery he communicated to his patient, assuring him that his motive for doing so was the preservation of his life. The disease had, in his opinion, originated in the painter’s rheumatic attack in Italy; it did not appear of a nature to shorten his life of itself; but sudden emotion, or too violent exercise, might make it fatal in an instant. It was therefore imperatively necessary that he should pay the most unremitting attention to his health; and to induce him to do this, it was equally requisite that he should be warned of his condition in time.

That cheerfulness and hope, which even in the last stages of his malady never deserted Mr. Collins, preserved him, at the period of its discovery, from the slightest depression of mind on his own account. He laughingly declared that heart complaints were fashionable, promised to submit himself to all medical orders as long as they did not debar him from painting, and turned to his old occupations and pleasures with as undiminished a zest as ever. It will be seen, as the present work advances, that this unflagging buoyancy of disposition not only sustained his spirits under all after-pressure, but nerved him to such a perseverance in his arduous pursuit, under severe suffering, as the lives of few men of genius have ever exceeded.

Early in the summer of this year, he received an invitation from his friend Captain Otter, who was then engaged in surveying the coast of Thurso, to visit him at that place; and it was shortly afterwards intimated to him, from another quarter, that if he was disposed to proceed as much farther northward from Scotland as Shetland, Mr. Cadell would be happy to have some drawings by his hand, illustrative of Sir Walter Scott’s romance of “The Pirate,” the Abbotsford edition of which was then about to be published. With the painter’s love of travelling and enjoyment of fine scenery, the prospect of this double expedition was exhilarating in no ordinary degree. He accepted Captain Otter’s invitation, arranged to confer in Edinburgh, with Mr. Cadell, on the Shetland project, and early in June (accompanied by the writer of the present narrative) set forth on his journey, delighted at the prospect of employing his pencil on scenes which would present Nature under a fresh aspect to his eye.

CHAPTER II.

1842-1844.

Letter to Mrs. Collins — Stay at Edinburgh and Thurso — Arrival at Lerwick, in Shetland — Company at the inn — Excursions to Scalloway and Sumburgh Head — Shetland ponies and Shetland hospitality — Adventure in a Dutch herring-boat -Illustrations to the “Pirate” — Sketching, etc., etc. — Departure from Shetland — Letter to Mrs. Collins — Journey home — Letter to Mr. Rippingille — Exhibition of 1843 — New painting-room and new house — Letter to Mrs. Collins — Death of Washington Allston — Letters respecting him from Mr. Dana and Mr. Collins — Removal to new house — Letter to Mrs. Collins, after visit to Drs. Bullar at Southampton — Journal, etc., etc., of 1844 — Letter to Mrs. Collins — Exhibition of 1844 — Continuation of Journal — Serious increase of symptoms of heart complaint — Country excursion in search of health — Ventnor — Sketching — New Forest — Shedfield — recollections of early studies — Visit to Stratton Park and Amberley — Letters to Mrs. Collins — Return to London — Sufferings from ill- health — Perseverance in labours in the Art.

“To MRS. COLLINS.

“Edinburgh, 3, Donne-terrace,

“June 11th, 1842.

“As you will see by the date, I am writing this at your friend’s, Mrs. Smith’s; and you will also see and believe that I am alive and well enough to write. The voyage here, though not quite agreeable, I have borne pretty well — the night part of it was bad enough; with Willie, however, all has gone on remarkably well.

“I have just received a note from Henry Otter, saying that he is always at home at Thurso; but as the boat only goes to Wick on Fridays, we shall have time to determine in what way we proceed there. To-morrow, we hope to go to Melrose. I will write again, when our plans are more settled. I think my health is mending — I am not yet strong; but hopeful. When we return to-morrow, I hope to find a letter for me at Mrs. Smith’s. I had a long and interesting conversation last night with Miss Smith the elder: she is full of love for you.