PETER DE WINT 
 

 
 _ 
 
 
 
 _ 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OF 
 
 PETER DE WIN 
 
 BY 
 
 WALTER ARMSTRONG 
 
 B.A., Oxon. 
 
 Author of “ Alfred Stevens” “Scottish Painters,” 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 24 PHOTOGRAVURES 
 
 IToniioii 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 
 AND NEW YORK 
 1888 
 
 The Right of Translation and Reproduction is Reserved 
 

NOTE. 
 
 The following memoir has been written under difficulties arising partly from the lapse of time since its 
 subject was in the flesh, partly from the extreme uneventfulness of the life he lived. Its author hopes, however, 
 it may serve as a skeleton to be clothed as materials come to light. For the information it contains he has 
 chiefly to thank Miss Tatlock, Mr. J. M. Heathcote, Mr. William Vokins, and Mr. James Orrock. 
 
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 LIST OF PLATES. 
 
 Title. 
 
 Portraits of Mr. and Mrs. De Wint . 
 
 Entrance to Lincoln . 
 
 1 Lincoln from the River . 
 
 Study of Trees . 
 
 , Gleaners . 
 
 Greenwich from the Hill . 
 
 Westminster Palace , Hall and Abbey . 
 
 Haymakers . ■ . 
 
 . Study of Weeds . 
 
 Lincoln from Washingborough . . . 
 
 Canterbury Meadows . 
 
 Cliefden from Maidenhead Bridge . . 
 
 River Scene with Barges . 
 
 River Scene, Stormy Effect . 
 
 River Scene with Ruined Abbey . . . 
 
 Study of Trees at Lowther . 
 
 Harvest Time. Lowther in the Distance 
 
 Gloucester , 1840 •. 
 
 Gloucester . 
 
 Harvest Time . 
 
 Conisborough Castle , Yorkshire . . . . 
 
 On the Dart . 
 
 A Cornfield . 
 
 Scalby Mill, near Scarborough . ... . 
 
 Owner of Original. 
 
 Miss Tatlock. 
 
 ■ Sir John Fowler. 
 
 >» » 
 
 . Dr. Hamilton. 
 
 . Mr. Wm. Vokins. 
 
 John Morris, Esq. 
 
 Miss Tatlock. 
 
 Gilbert W. Moss, Esq. 
 
 Miss Tatlock. 
 
 Miss Sibthorp. 
 
 George F. Smith, Esq. 
 
 C. J. H. Tower, Esq. 
 
 Lady Lyttelton. 
 
 Lady Mary Windsor Clive. 
 Miss Tatlock. 
 
 Lady Mary Windsor Clive. 
 Lord Windsor. 
 
 Miss Tatlock. 
 
 George F. Smith, Esq. 
 
 C. F. Huth, Esq. 
 
 S. G. Holland, Esq. 
 
 J. T. Brooke, Esq. 
 
 South Kensington Museum. 
 Lord Windsor. 
 

PETER DE WINT. 
 
 I. 
 
 fY years ago the two countries which have led the van in the march of modern art, could 
 each have boasted of their share in a school of painting both original in aim and unique in 
 achievement. But to boast of it was outside their thoughts. In France its members 
 were neglected, were almost left to starve; while in England, with the one great exception 
 of Constable, who had helpful friends and resources outside his art, they were compelled to live partly by 
 teaching those over whom time spent was time lost, partly by forsaking that medium of expression in which 
 alone a fame that should be at once wide and lasting, could be won. 
 
 The chief of those who formed the English branch, or rather the English root, of what is really but a 
 single school, were nearly all born between 1780 and 1790. Their French followers—for followers, at least 
 they were, if not disciples—came into the world between 1800 and 1820. Corot alone advanced matters a 
 little, and appeared on the scene while the eighteenth century had still four years to run. It may be asked 
 why, with a start of twenty years on an average, our Englishmen did not hold their own better than they 
 
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MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 did ? It may be asked why they failed to make it impossible for a modern critic to single out the painter of 
 the Hay-wain and to set him up, naked and alone, to face the whole school of Fontainebleau ? That they 
 failed was not due to defects in their own powers, but to a peculiarity in the English character which is a 
 
 virtue or a vice, according to the light in which we look at it. 
 
 It can scarcely be denied that England, as a nation, is at once intensely ignorant of art and very fond of 
 pictures. In this country it is hard to find a house of any sort in which the walls are not covered with 
 
 something those who live within them can fancy to be art. Our picture papers and magazines have had, 
 
 until within the last year or two, circulations unheard of in the Latin countries, and the demand for artists to 
 supply their wants has been great. In France, speaking roughly, the love of pictures is confined to two 
 
 classes, to the class with cultivation, and the class with money. The first loves them for their intellectual 
 
 stimulus, the second for their fame. The French middle class is wanting in the idyllic strain. It does not care 
 
 for mild reflections of domestic bliss, for mementoes of the woods in which it wandered in youth, or the scenes 
 among which it takes its annual holiday. Climb after dark to the roof of a Paris omnibus, and go the round 
 of the Boulevards. As you lumber along you may glance into the first floor windows, and scarcely in one 
 afpartement in ten will you see a picture on the walls. There is, in fact, nothing to answer to that multitude of 
 English people, who knowing naught about art as art, being accustomed, indeed, to deny its existence, are yet 
 ready to pay a few guineas for a drawing which reminds them of nature, and a few more for a course of 
 lessons in “how it is done.” France, then, does little to seduce the painter from oil, or into the practice of 
 prettiness. Even for those whose natural predilection is for water-colours, it has only been within the last few 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 years that a chance of success has come. Frenchmen in advance of their time—Corot, Rousseau, Millet — 
 had no temptation to abandon the struggle. They had to suffer and wait. 
 
 In England it was otherwise. Here if few would give some unknown genius a hundred guineas for a 
 picture, there were plenty of modest collectors to pay five for a drawing. The consequence was that the little 
 group of men to whom the glory of founding the nineteenth century school of landscape belongs, remains 
 comparatively obscure, as a group, and the chief credit of the movement is abandoned to that one individual 
 who could afford to paint in oil. No one will grudge Constable his fame. It may even be allowed that he 
 was, on the whole, the ablest as well as the first of those who have created modern landscape. But it is 
 pretty certain that, had conditions been here what they were with the French, three or four others would 
 have stood beside him, and been to him what Troyon, Rousseau, and one or two more are to Corot. And of 
 those others, none perhaps would have loomed larger to the eye than Peter de Wint. 
 
II. 
 
 WsBESHSgi 
 
 |HE De Wints were Dutch by extraction. The original patronymic was De Windt, and the 
 arms borne by those of the name who still lingered in Holland in the early years of the 
 present century were “ four heads proper blowing the four winds.” Some members of the 
 family settled in Paris, and some in the West Indies. Others followed their Dutch kin to 
 New England, and from these Peter de Wint was descended. Henry, his father, was the son of one John Peter 
 
 de Wint, of New York, by whom he was sent to Europe to be trained as a physician. After graduating 
 
 at Leyden, Henry de Wint came to London to complete his training at St. Thomas’s Hospital. While so 
 
 engaged he seems to have fallen in love with a certain Miss Watson, the daughter of a Scotchman who had 
 become impoverished through devotion to Prince Charlie. This was unfortunate, for the young lady was 
 not only without means herself, but her intervention put an end to a project of marriage which would have 
 brought her lover the hand of a wealthy cousin in America. Henry de Wint and Miss Watson were 
 
 married in 1773, when the one was twenty and the other nineteen. For a year or two their union 
 seems to have remained a secret; and it was not until he had reached the comparatively mature age of 
 twenty-three, and had two children, that Dr. de Wint’s final disinheritance by his father took place. 
 
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MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 Up to this time he had lived on an allowance of two or three hundred a year from America. Thus at 
 twenty-three, with a wife and two children, and the prospect of many more, the young physician found 
 himself cast upon his own resources. He moved from London to the neighbourhood of Cardiff, where he 
 attempted to build up a practice among the poorer classes of the Welsh. Of this he soon grew weary, and 
 in 1781 or thereabouts migrated to Stone, in Staffordshire, where he spent the rest of his life. At Stone ten 
 more children were born to him. Of these Peter was the fourth son. 
 
 In the memoir of her husband, left behind in manuscript by the painter s widow, we are told that aesthetic 
 predilections were entirely foreign to his family, of which no member “ knew anything of ait 01 cared in the 
 least for pictures.” But the old Dutch failing must have been in the blood. Stories of course are told of every 
 painter’s precocity; but in the case of De Wint these are unusually definite and unusually significant of purpose. 
 At school he not only scribbled, he made regular attempts to teach his schoolfellows to> sciibble too, and he so 
 beleaguered his father that in spite of the narrowness of the family means he was allowed to take lessons from 
 a drawing-master, a certain Rogers, who lived at Stafford. He showed too that deep interest in nature 
 without which his imagination might afterwards have starved. He spent days wandeung in the fields and 
 along the country bye-roads watching the habits of animals and birds, the growth of trees, the action of the 
 winds. Even at this early age he was content with his own company, was satisfied to store up in his mind 
 the impressions he gathered in his solitary rambles, and to form projects for the future of which his parents 
 only heard when some action of theirs was required to promote fruition. 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE IVINT. 
 
 It is likely that the comforts of the house at Stone were few, for Dr. de Wint laboured under the peculiar 
 disabilities of those who, after a youth passed in ease, are suddenly called upon to fight the world with 
 their own unassisted powers. To the end of his days he was oppressed, not so much by poverty—for he 
 succeeded in building up a good practice at Stone—as by that incapacity to make the most of means, which 
 is almost as bad. Some hint of the barrenness of his plenishing is to be found in a story his son Peter used 
 to tell in after years. He could clearly remember, he would say, the first time he ever saw a picture. It 
 was an engraving, and its beauty so dazzled him that he thought it must have been done by an angel ! This 
 boy Dr. de Wint meant to bring up to his own profession, to which an elder brother was already committed. 
 His training in medicine had even begun, and, in spite of his own strongly asserted repugnance, had 
 made some progress before his father recognized the wish of nature and allowed science to be put aside for 
 art. To this surrender he was driven, perhaps, more by considerations of economy than by any inkling 
 of his son s powers. For we shall find that the indenture which bound Peter to his first master, was supplemented 
 by an agreement that he should serve an extra year beyond the regular seven, in lieu of premium. 
 
 It was in 1802 that young De Wint was taken to London and apprenticed to the famous mezzotinter, 
 John Raphael Smith. Thomas Correggio Smith, Raphael’s brother, was at that time established at Uttoxeter, 
 not many miles from Stone, where he painted miniatures to supplement a narrow patrimony. Through this 
 Correggio, most likely. Dr. de Wint made the engraver’s acquaintance, and both brothers may have had a 
 share in converting him to his son’s views. Young De Wint left home for London on the first of April. 
 The day was a Friday too, but it was in vain that his friends pointed out the double omen. His father’s 
 
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MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 consent had at last been given, and his own eagerness would not allow an hour to be lost in putting it into 
 
 effect, and all through his after life he loved to arrange things for Fridays and Firsts of April, if he could, 
 
 for these, he would say, were his lucky days. On his arrival in London he seems at once to have taken up his 
 abode with Smith, but it was not until June that the indenture was signed which made him a legal apprentice. 
 At that time Smith had among his pupils the future academician and devotee to “ high art,” William Flilton. 
 
 Of the two lads De Wint was the senior by some thirty months, and between them a friendship sprang up 
 
 which was only to end with their lives. 
 
 De Wint was followed to the capital by his father, and on the seventh of June the instrument was 
 signed by which the young man surrendered his liberty. This indenture—it lies before me now— 
 “ witnesseth that Peter de Wint, son of Henry de Wint, of Stone, in the County of Stafford, Apothecary, doth 
 put himself apprentice to John Raphael Smith, of King Street, Covent Garden, in the County of Middlesex, 
 Engraver and Portrait Painter, to learn his art and with him after the manner of an apprentice to serve, from 
 the day of the date hereof unto the full end and term of seven years, from thence next following to be fully 
 compleat and ended, during which term the said apprentice faithfully shall or will serve, his secrets keep, 
 his lawfull commands everywhere gladly do, &c. ”: and for all this John Raphael Smith agrees “ to teach 
 Peter de Wint the arts and mysteries of engraving and portrait-painting, and to supply him with meat, 
 drink, and lodging.” The indenture was supplemented by the agreement already referred to, by which the 
 De Wints undertook that Peter should be at Smith’s disposal for an extra year in consideration of his waiving 
 the question of premium. 
 
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MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT 
 
 The decision to “ bind ” his son to Raphael Smith throws a side light on Dr. de Wint’s character, 
 which confirms what we are told of his youth. The hopefulness which led him to prefer a penniless girl 
 and his own approval to an heiress and the applause of his family, preserved him now from qualms on the 
 score of the engraver’s mode of life. For Raphael Smith was a sort of expurgated edition of George Morland. 
 From the deeper debaucheries of Morland he seems to have been free, but he was fond of the cock-pit 
 and the prize-ring, and of the company into which they brought him. Much of his time and substance 
 were wasted in dissipation, and, in spite of certain idyllic tastes, such as fishing, he was, on the whole, not 
 the sort of man to whom a timid father would entrust a lad of eighteen. And yet perhaps there was no 
 great cause for timidity, for Smith was thoroughly good-hearted, generous, and unselfish. All he knew he 
 would teach his pupils; there was no fear of his practising those petty repressions with which clever masters 
 have before now retarded the steps of their scholars. And as for his influence on conduct, De Wint seems 
 fiom boyhood to have had a way of taking his own line and sticking to it, which must now have been 
 reassuring. 
 
 For nearly four years the young man lived in King Street, and divided his time between engraving, painting 
 heads in pastel, and the more congenial occupation of sketching from nature. For Smith had soon discovered 
 that the hearts neither of Hilton nor De Wint were given to the beautiful art in which he himself was to conquer 
 fame. He was, as I have hinted, an enthusiastic fisherman, and on his excursions to some favourite stream he 
 used to take the two apprentices with him, setting them to sketch meanwhile, and, in fact, doing his best, in 
 a very enlightened way, to bring out the special powers with which he saw each to be gifted. His perception 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 of De Wint s ability and confidence in his future is also proved, to some extent, by a curious document to 
 be quoted presently. 
 
 The relations, however, between Smith and his apprentices were not always cloudless. About a year 
 after De Wint joined the manage in Covent Garden, some events occurred which interfered very much 
 with the comfort of the two young men. Hilton, the more thin-skinned of the pair, determined to run 
 away. He took no one but De Wint into his confidence and when, one fine morning, he was to seek, 
 that stubborn young gentleman declined to betray his whereabouts. Upon this Smith haled him before 
 a magistrate. De Wint refused to break his word to his friend, and was promptly committed to 
 
 piison toi disobedience to his master. There he had to submit to the usual indignities, and to much 
 
 suffering from cold. It was not until his devotion had reached the ears of the runaway—who was, in fact, 
 
 under the paternal roof at Lincoln—that the engraver’s mind was relieved and his stubborn apprentice set at 
 liberty. 
 
 About the time of De Wint’s establishment in the King Street household, fear of Napoleon was driving 
 
 all the youth of the country into the ranks of the volunteers. Among the pieces justificatives handed to me for 
 
 the purposes of this memoir, I find wrapped in a sheet of discoloured paper, two enlistment tickets for the 
 “ Samt Margaret’s and Saint John’s Volunteers.” Both have clearly been filled up at the same moment but they 
 bear no date. To all whom it may concern they proclaim that William Hilton and Peter de Wint have 
 been “allowed to join the Battalion.” Judging from probabilities, this must have been about 1805, when the 
 friendship was three years old. 
 
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MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 in 1806 both De Wint and Hilton left Smith. How this came about in the case of the younger man 
 I do not know, but with De Wint it was the subject of a curious bargain. We have seen that his articles 
 
 were dated the 7th June, 1802, and were to be in force for the orthodox seven years. Less than four 
 
 summers afterwards the engraver restored his pupil to freedom. The terms on which he agreed to do this 
 would be decisive as to his belief in the young man’s powers, but for our knowledge of his own careless 
 character. The release will bear quotation. It is dated the 17th of May, 1806. After naming the parties to 
 the agreement, and reciting the indenture of 1802, it goes on to say that, “whereas the said Henry de Wint 
 and Peter de Wint are desirous of being released from the said indentures and covenant . . . the said John 
 Raphael Smith agrees to release them upon terms and conditions, and for the considerations following . . 
 namely, that the said Peter de Wint shall . . before the end of one year to be computed from the . . 
 
 date of these presents, paint in oil colour, in the best manner he is able, nine pictures of the following dimensions 
 respectively, that is to say, six of eleven inches by nine inches, two of one foot three inches and a half by 
 one foot one inch and a half, and one of one foot three inches and a half by one foot and half an inch. 
 And farther that he shall . . before the end of the then succeeding year, paint in like manner nine other 
 pictures in oil colours of the following dimensions, that is to say, one of one foot three inches and a half 
 
 by one foot and half an inch, six of one foot and half an inch by ten inches and three-quarters of another 
 
 inch, one of one foot seven inches by one foot three inches, and one of two feet three inches by one 
 foot ten inches—all of which several pictures are to be landscapes, and to be delivered into the hands and 
 be the absolute property of the said John Raphael Smith,” &c., &c. Such agreements are too often made to 
 
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MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 be broken, but on the back of this I find two endorsements, in Smith’s writing, acknowledging the receipt 
 of the eighteen pictures promptly to time. 
 
 De Wint and Hilton appear to have at once taken lodgings in Broad Street, Golden Square. They 
 
 were now on the best of terms with their old master, and partly through him they found channels for 
 
 the sale of their work. But it was at first a hard struggle. They not only had to paint for a living, 
 but at the same time to complete their education. ' Hilton won admission to the Academy Schools in 
 1806. It was not until three years later that his friend received the coveted pasteboard which authorised 
 the keeper—at that time fiery old Fuseli—to “Admit Mr. Peter de Wint to be a student in the Royal 
 
 Academy, subject to the regulations thereof.” The card is dated March 8th, 1809; on the back it is thus 
 
 endorsed: “Admit to the life Mr. Peter de Wint. H. Fuseli, kr.; W. Beechey Visitor. 16th March, 1811.” 
 These dates prove that the time usually named for De Wint’s admission as a student is two years too early. 
 By this time however he was making an income on which he could live and keep a wife, for a year 
 
 before his promotion to “ the life,” he had married, as we shall presently see, his friend Hilton’s sister, 
 
 Harriet. 
 
 It was in the early summer of 1806 that the two friends left their master and set up for themselves. 
 But before settling in their new quarters they made an expedition to a city which was afterwards to play a 
 
 great part in De Wint’s career. Hilton’s parents were established in Lincoln, and it was a matter of course 
 
 that in first embarking on the troubled waters of the world as his own captain, he should pay them a visit, 
 and should introduce the friend whose name by that time must have been a household word. Hdton’s family 
 
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MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 consisted of father, mother, and one sister. Hilton senior was a painter, mainly of portraits, and had exhibited 
 once or twice at the Academy some twenty years before. He had previously lived at Norwich, and at Leicester 
 had taught drawing in the school kept by the once famous Miss Mary Linwood, the needle-worker. To 
 this lady he afterwards confided his own daughter, Harriet, whose frequent duty it became to read aloud to 
 Mary Linwood as she stitched away at her Raphaels. When the two young men arrived at Lincoln, Harriet 
 was at home for the holidays. She was then fifteen. By her De Wint’s heart was at once touched, and 
 before he left the Hiltons to make his way into Staffordshire, to his own birthplace, his attachment had 
 developed into love. 
 
 It perhaps required some romance like this to stamp Lincoln so deeply into the painter’s heart. In spite 
 of the superbly placed Cathedral and the picturesque irregularity of the streets clustered in its shadow, of the 
 city “above hill,” as those who live among its narrow ways so religiously call it, Lincoln is not rich in 
 subjects for the painter. The upper town is small and soon exhausted. The pictorial value of “ below hill ” 
 lies almost entirely in the contrast it offers to the stately bulk of the church which rises beyond ; while the 
 neighbourhood, as far as the eye can reach, is a dead level of heavy clays, intersected by dykes, and but little 
 enriched with timber. And yet the pictures made by De Wint within sight of Lincoln’s triple towers may 
 be counted by scores. Much of his time during this first visit was taken up with sketches in oil, some of 
 which he afterwards completed and handed over to Raphael Smith in fulfilment of their bargain. 
 
 After these few weeks at Lincoln, spent as only a landscape painter, with health, and hope, and confidence 
 in himself—and in love—can spend them, De Wint moved on into Staffordshire. He made the journey on foot, 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 loitering for a week or so in Derbyshire, sketching Matlock High Tor for the first time, and picking up a 
 few more subjects of the same kind to which he often returned. Not long after his arrival at Stone, Hilton 
 joined him. By this time Dr. de Wint had contrived to get on fair terms with fortune. He had built up a 
 
 good practice, and, although he had scarcely begun to accumulate, he was at least making a sufficient income, 
 
 and had won the esteem of the people among whom he lived. He shared his practice with his eldest son, 
 
 who was at this time about thirty-one, married, and with a rapidly increasing family. The never copious 
 
 materials for De Wint’s biographer are here particularly scanty, but now and again we get hints that the 
 skeleton in the family cupboard was the conduct of this eldest son. He seems to have been at once grasping 
 and extravagant, to have been the cause of discomfort during his father’s life and of financial embarrassment 
 after his death. Another brother, younger than Peter, two sisters, and Mrs. de Wint completed the family. 
 Dr. de Wint was popular with the neighbours, so his son and his son’s friend were well received, were even 
 commissioned to paint a few portraits, which helped materially to lessen the risks of their start in London. 
 
 Towards the end of autumn De Wint and Hilton were established in their Broad Street lodgings. 
 Their chief friends seem to have been Mrs. Brooks, an aunt of De Wint’s on the mother’s side—at whose 
 house they were accustomed to spend their Sundays—and her eldest son, in whom the pair found a companion 
 who for a time turned their duet into a trio. This new friend joined their battalion of volunteers, but 
 soon resigned his membership in order to read for the Church. It was to his influence that the religious 
 bent which was afterwards to become so strong in De Wint, was in the first place due. Later in life 
 
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MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 Mr. Brooks became an honorary Canon of Lincoln and Vicar of St. Mary’s, Nottingham. It was about this 
 year 1806 that De Wint was admitted to the famous circle at Dr. Monro’s. The days when that genial 
 padrone gave a supper and half-a-crown each to young artists to come and sketch, were perhaps over, but 
 De Wint could not fail to be fired by the doctor’s enthusiasm and to profit by the splendid collection of 
 Gainsboroughs, Cozenses, Girtins, and Turners he had brought together. Of these the Girtins were his 
 favourites, but by the solemn poetry of Cozens and the feathery grace of Gainsborough’s landscapes his 
 sympathies must also have been profoundly stirred. 
 
 In these early months fortune smiled first on Hilton, but it was not long before De Wint too came 
 in for a share in her favours. At one time the friends seem practically to have had a common purse; for 
 each in turn supplied the wants of the other, so that ill-luck to hurt one had to hit both. Hilton, although 
 the younger man, was the more mature as an artist. His apprenticeship had begun six good years before 
 his friend’s ; he was three years his senior in the Academy Schools; and moreover his training had taken what 
 was then thought the more orthodox route. It was therefore not surprising that he could turn out heads and 
 portrait groups to better purpose financially than De Wint. But before long the latter’s powers as a landscape 
 painter began to attract patrons, and not more than two years had elapsed before the stream of commissions, 
 which was to grow steadily in volume to the day of his death, began to flow. With this happy result the 
 completeness of his conceptions had much to do. Unlike those even of his ablest contemporaries, his drawings 
 were pictures. They were neither fragments nor impressions. They were fully furnished creations, which 
 might, in nine cases out of ten, have been expanded without loss to ten times their size. Look, for instance, 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 at the Lincoln, in our plate. It is reproduced from a small drawing of Sir John Fowler’s. In arrangement, 
 in fulness of detail, and in general largeness of conception, it has the balance of a Claude and the dignity of 
 a Girtin. I do not mean that De Wint’s fuller conceptions place him above Girtin—who was essentially an 
 impressionist—but simply that, in their time, they insured him favour from those who liked completeness 
 and did not understand the audacious silences of art. In saying all this I run the risk of being misunder¬ 
 stood. For in some ways De Wint was one of the most incomplete of painters, and as life went on he too 
 became a master of impressionistic selection. No man knew better how to summarize, how to reduce a tree 
 to its elements of mass and value, how to indicate the accidents of a foreground with a single sweep of a 
 half-empty brush. It is not objectively that he is complete. It is not by finish that he attracts. It is by 
 the fulness of his conceptions, by the faculty he shows for winning a coherence, to which line, colour, and 
 value each contributes its fair proportion. But at present I must refrain from discussing his art. 
 
 In May, 1807, Dr. de Wint died, leaving five children still alive. The eldest son, who inherited the 
 practice and his father’s property, was content to make a small provision for his mother, which came to 
 an end with his own death soon after, and to allow the younger children to shift for themselves. These 
 were Peter; a younger brother, Thomas, at this time studying medicine; and two sisters. Peter was only 
 twenty-three, but he was already making a small income by his work, and with some difficulty contrived to 
 afford the help his elder brother refused. On the death of the latter, his mother too came to him for 
 support. Her youngest son, Thomas, was only seventeen when his father died, and time had to elapse 
 
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MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 before he could be her stay. This however he became at last, and in his house at Ancaster she died, in 
 the autumn of 1834, at the age of eighty. Thomas’s own death took place in 1851. His intercourse 
 with the painter seems never to have been close. 
 
 Early in February, 1809, William Hilton was attacked by a violent fever in the rooms in Broad 
 Street. His mother and sister came from Lincoln and shared his nursing with De Wint. In this matter the 
 young man’s zeal seems to have outrun his ability, for on one occasion when it came to his turn to sit with 
 his friend and “exhibit drugs,” he poured a glass of vinegar down the patients throat by mistake! “Oh, 
 De Wint, you have killed me ! that’s not the medicine ! ” cried Hilton. De Wint rushed off through the streets 
 for the doctor, passing on his way the front of the old Drury Lane Theatre, which was just bursting into the 
 flames that destroyed it, and being constantly stopped by people who wanted to know where the fire was. But 
 at last he reached his goal and was made happy by Dr. Baillie’s assurance that the vinegar would do no harm. 
 As soon as he became convalescent, Hilton was carried to Lincoln—where the fever returned and nearly ended 
 fatally—and De Wint gave up the rooms in Broad Street, settling for a few weeks in Carburton Street, but 
 moving to the cathedral city for the summer. In the autumn the two friends returned to London, and took 
 lodgings in Norton Street, Portland Road. Hilton’s health was still precarious, and De Wint’s quiet care of 
 him invaluable. 
 
 The winters were spent on De Wint’s part in hard work at the Academy, and in making drawings from 
 his summer harvests of sketches. At this time he painted as much in oil as in the lighter medium, and would 
 have devoted himself to that metier but for the difficulty he found in selling its results. With his drawings 
 
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MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 it was otherwise, almost from the first. Those he sold, at modest prices, as fast as they were finished. In the 
 confidence this gave him, he proposed an early marriage to the girl to whom he had lost his heart four years 
 before. They were married at Lincoln on June 16th, 1810, and after a short visit to London, they settled 
 there for the autumn. About the middle of September De Wint made his first short sketching tour in 
 Yorkshire, and then he, his wife, and her brother, established themselves in the house in Percy Street 
 in which they were to live until 1827. In that year Hilton was elected keeper of the Royal Academy and 
 migrated to Somerset House, while the De Wints moved to 40 Upper Gower Street, where they spent the 
 rest of their lives. 
 
 I have now traced De Wint’s uneventful career through what may be called his probation. Born an 
 artist to the tips of his fingers, he was yet free from the enthusiasm which leads men to sacrifice prosperity 
 to future fame. From his boyhood he seems to have understood how to “ cut his coat according to his 
 cloth,” to make the best of actual conditions, and to avoid all chance of shipwreck on the world’s impassibility. 
 At Smith’s he contrived to so develop his true gift for landscape, that his master was ready to exchange four 
 years of service for a series of pictures in a style foreign to his own predilections. And it is characteristic 
 of De Wint that this bargain was carried out to the letter, although he must often have been sorely tempted 
 to delay its fulfilment. Free, at twenty-two, to order his own life, he had the energy to combine hard work 
 at the Academy with the making of an income by the prosecution of an art in which his work from the 
 antique would do nothing to help him. Again, in spite of his own strong preference for oil, in which, as 
 
 17 
 
 F 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 he must have known, he could have won a wider and more permanent fame than in the delightful but 
 essentially modest art of the aquarellist, he turned to the latter and to teaching, as to the line of least 
 
 resistance for one who had to win a competence in the England of eighty years ago. Such conduct may not 
 
 have been heroic, but it had about it a certain fitness, a contentment with the means at hand, which is perhaps 
 
 more in harmony with the artistic nature than a more valiant conception of life. 
 
j 
 
 III. 
 
 ROM his marriage and settlement in Percy Street until his death, nearly forty years later, 
 De Wint’s career was as uneventful as the course of a Dutch river. His reputation both 
 as painter and teacher grew steadily with his years. At first he received no more than 
 a guinea or so for a small drawing, and five shillings an hour for lessons. In 1827, 
 the first year for which his accounts have been preserved, five guineas was his lowest price for a 
 drawing, and fifty his highest; while his lessons were paid for at the rate of a guinea an hour. Living 
 prudently, completely happy in his art, widening, as the months passed by, his circle of friends among those 
 to whom he looked for patronage, he has left little to chronicle beyond his yearly excursions in quest of 
 material. The household in Percy Street had few excitements. The arrival of a daughter a year after De Wint’s 
 marriage, the consequent delicacy of his wife, and Hilton’s disappointments in connection with ‘high art, weie 
 the chief breaks in the even tenor of existence. The winters, from October to February, were passed mainly 
 in painting. Mrs. de Wint was her husband’s constant companion while he worked, exercising that talent for 
 reading aloud which had been discovered by Miss Linwood. The spring and early summer, the London 
 season in fact, was given up entirely to teaching, every hour but one, from nine to six, bringing its lesson 
 
 19 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 and its guinea. The late summer and autumn were passed in the main at Lincoln, whence excursions were 
 made into more picturesque districts, and visits paid to those buyers of his drawings who had become his 
 
 personal friends. 
 
 In those days there was no world of artists. Art clubs in the modern sense did not exist. Some of the 
 great lights of the profession went into society, but those of more homely tastes had little opportunity to meet even 
 fellow-workers in the same field. The chiefs, afterwards to be famous, of our water-colour school, lived apart, 
 often in strange quarters of London, and sallied forth but little from their homes, except to give the lessons 
 to which they looked for their daily bread. Their esprit de corps was not yet awake. They held themselves 
 for the most part for tradesmen; were not ashamed to bargain; and frankly called the class that employed 
 them and bought their works “the gentlemen.” De Wint’s birth may have led him to stand a little aloof. 
 It was better than that of the average painter of the day, and from his character it is likely that such 
 
 a notion had weight with him. Among his correspondents I find few artists, and not one who writes 
 
 on any intimate footing. But he was often received on terms unusual at the time by those whose 
 
 acquaintance he had made as their teacher. He and his wife were frequent guests of Lord Lonsdale, at 
 Lowther Castle, of the Clives, at Oakley Park; of the Heathcotes, at Connington Castle; of Mr. Henry 
 Cheney, at Badger. 
 
 Mr. J. M. Heathcote tells a strange story connected with a visit to this last-named friend. One night, 
 when the family and their guests were about to retire, the painter declared that he felt an oppression on his 
 chest by which he knew there was a fire in the house. Much incredulity was expressed, but De Wint 
 
 20 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 was so emphatic that a search was set a-foot. For a long time this was without result. Just however as 
 the attempt was about to be abandoned, flames burst out through one of the floors. Being taken in time 
 the conflagration, which must otherwise have been disastrous, was put an end to before much damage had 
 been done. Many of De Wint’s most vigorous sketches were made near Badger, in the Dingle, a rocky valley 
 with a stream scrambling through it. 
 
 Among other friends with whom we find him in communication at various times were Alaric Watts, Lord 
 Camden, Lord Northwick, Sir David Wilkie, Lord Brownlow, Mr. Fawkes of Farnley, Mr. Ellison, Mr. 
 Henderson, Mr. Champerknowne, Sir Watkin Williams Wynne, Sir Charles Mordaunt, Sir Thomas Baring, Mr. 
 Edward Coleridge, Mr. John Penrose, and John Constable. In the annual lists of those who bought De 
 Wint’s drawings Constable alone represents his brother painters. His presence there is not surprising, for the 
 sympathy between himself and the man who made such a picture as the ‘ Cricketers,’ at South Kensington, 
 must have been intense. But the absence of the rest of the fraternity is a little strange. 
 
 Close to the wall of Lincoln Castle a house was built for the Hiltons, which, however, was used 
 by the whole family as a summer rendezvous. From the garden, over which many discussions took place 
 and much pains were lavished, there was a wide and beautiful outlook, and here De Wint made hundreds of 
 studies for skies. In this house — it was called Motherby Hill—Hilton senior spent the last eight years of 
 his life. He lived very quietly, spending much of his time in the collection of prints, and latterly in following 
 the careers of his son and son-in-law. Every trifling scribble of theirs, and every line that was written 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 on their work, he religiously preserved. His death took place on the 7th September, 1822, just after he 
 had completed his threescore years and ten. After her husband’s death Mrs. Hilton lived with her children. And 
 here perhaps I had better say what remains to be said of her son as he affected De Wint. William Hilton was 
 elected an associate of the Academy in 1813, a full R.A. in 1819, and Keeper in 1827. In 1825 he had 
 made a tour in Italy in company with Phillips, the portrait painter. With a flying visit to Paris during 
 
 the interval between the fall of Napoleon and the dismantling of the Louvre, and a short tour of a 
 week or two in Belgium in 1835, this made up his experience of the Continent. It is said in the 
 
 dictionaries that he married De Wint’s sister. That is a mistake. His wife, Justina, was the eldest daughter 
 of the Rev. G. D. Kent, of Lincoln. Their marriage took place in February, 1828, when Hilton was 
 already forty-two, and their housekeeping began in the old Academy rooms at Somerset House. The change 
 was not fortunate for Hilton. Though devotedly attached to his wife, and she to him, their happiness was 
 marred by the weak health of both; while disappointments which had weighed comparatively lightly upon 
 him as a bachelor, now depressed his spirits and lowered his vitality. Through all these years De Wint 
 was hopeful and encouraging, and after his friend’s death we shall find him working hard for his fame. 
 Seven years after Hilton’s establishment at Somerset House his mother died in the arms of her son-in-law. 
 She was buried in the churchyard of the Savoy. On the 8th October in the same year Justina Hilton 
 died suddenly, and was buried in the same grave. In 1836 Hilton moved to the new quarters of the 
 
 Academy in Trafalgar Square. By this time his health, which had always been weak, began finally to 
 
 break down, hastened in this no doubt by the loss of his wife. One bitterly cold winter night he left the 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 heated atmosphere of the Academy schools and travelled down to Kingston on the mail. The transition, 
 as he might have guessed, was more than his feeble frame could bear. A severe illness came on, and from it 
 in spite of one or two rallies, he never truly recovered. He went with the De Wints to Matlock, but 
 the change did not end in improvement, and on the 30th December, 1839, he died at his fiiends house 
 in Upper Gower Street. He was buried in the Savoy beside his wife and mother. 
 
 During the ten years that were left of his own life we more than once find De Wint bestirring himself 
 on behalf of his friend’s reputation. Of this the most curious instance had to do with the purchase, by the 
 Corporation of Liverpool, of Hilton’s large Crucifixion. For some time the picture was hung in a bad place 
 and without a frame. De Wint prepared an address to the Mayor and Burgesses, begging that it might be fiamed 
 and placed in a better light, and, in a letter of which a copy lies beside me, he endeavoured to induce the 
 
 President and Council of the Royal Academy to join their signatures to his. To this Sir Martin Shee 
 
 demurred. Reading between the lines of his answer, one seems to guess that reluctance to appear as suppliants 
 
 before a less august corporation was the real cause of the Council s refusal to stir in behalf of theii 
 
 colleague’s fame. 
 
 The friendship between Hilton and De Wint was so close and unbroken that it would be difficult to treat 
 their lives apart. Neither was of an expansive nature ; neither made friends easily or often ; and so perhaps they 
 clung the more tightly to one another. And although they did not, as so many have thought, marry each other s 
 sisters, Hilton’s foreign wife, if I may use the phrase, was no disturbance to the concert, foi her incursion did 
 not take place until he had reached middle age, and had left the De Wints for his official home at the 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 Academy. During the lifetime of the two friends Hilton’s fame was wider than De Wint’s. He was an 
 Academician, a painter of religious and historical pictures which brought him dignity if they did not fill his 
 purse, and it is certain that if the average man of culture of fifty years ago had been asked which was the more 
 surely destined for immortality, he would have answered Hilton, without a qualm. But fame has taken her 
 revenge. Most of the Academician’s pictures have vanished from the surface on which they were painted, 
 while those that remain undamaged show a talent very far below the genius of De Wint. One of the best 
 I have seen is a group of Mrs. de Wint and her child, in the possession of Miss Tatlock, that child’s daughter. 
 It was painted before Hilton began those experiments with asphaltum which have had such a disastrous effect 
 on most of his works. 
 
IV. 
 
 our steps to the year 1811, which saw the birth of De Wint’s only 
 of a long period of ill-health for his wife. Shortly after the little girl’s 
 ;d to Lincoln to her grandmother, with whom she spent the first years 
 pears have left little to record of her father and mother. Their life in 
 
 that it is not easy to divine the real significance of the little we do 
 
 know. In December, 1821, we find Richard Woodhouse dining “at De Wint’s with (John) Taylor, 
 (Allan) Cunningham, and the 1 Opium Eater.’ ” 1 
 
 On this occasion Cunningham seems to have told the story of Wilkie’s introduction to Hogg, in a form 
 
 inconsistent with the version he afterwards gave in the painter’s life. The conversation also turned on poetry, 
 
 on “ the sort of compensation in poetic melody which requires a heavy or spondaic line after a dactylic or 
 lighter one,” on Oxford and classical learning, and the general ability of university men, ending, so far as 
 the notes are concerned, with De Quincey’s story of his presentiment of the little Wordsworth’s death. All 
 this seems to show that De Wint was a well-read man, and had not failed to profit by his wife’s devotion as a 
 1 Notes of Conversations with Thomas de Quincey, by Richard Woodhouse. 
 
 2 5 H 
 
 E must now turn back on 
 child, and the beginning 
 appearance she was carrie 
 of her existence. These \ 
 
 Gower Street has left so slight a trail. 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 reader. But I have not been able to gather much corroboration of the hint it gives, and in the few cases 
 in which the painter is found in relation with men of letters it is not his more amiable side that he shows. 
 
 In 1840 Allan Cunningham writes for a few particulars of Hilton’s life in the timid style of one who 
 is in doubt as to his reception. In 1827 we find John Clare inditing an epistle of thanks for a design 
 for the title-page of his poems. Two years later he writes again, and, with simulated boldness, begs for an 
 original drawing. The letter is charming in its way. Clare, it appears, had been asked by Miss De Wint to 
 enrol himself amongst the family correspondents. He agrees with pride, and then goes on with gathering 
 diffidence to make a request: “ The request being neither more nor less than a wish to possess a bit of 
 your genius to hang up in my cottage, by the side of friend Hilton’s beautiful drawing, which he had the 
 kindness to give me when first in London. What I mean is one of those scraps which you consider nothings 
 after having used them, and that lie littering about your study. For nothing would appear so valuable to me 
 as one of these rough sketches, taken in the fields, that breathe the living freshness of open air and sunshine, 
 where the harmony of earth, air, and sky form such a happy unison of greens and greys, that a flat bit of 
 scenery on a few inches of paper appears so many miles. For so some of those beautiful little things appeared to 
 me which you so kindly indulged me with a sight of in your study eight or nine years back—alas that it 
 is so many, for time has made a sad gap in my little catalogue of friends since then ! I don’t know how it is, 
 but nothing in the Royal Academy and other exhibitions, struck me so forcibly as representations, or rather 
 as fac-similes 1 of English scenery as those studies of yours . . I think many painters look upon Nature as a Beau 
 
 1 An unlucky word ! 
 
 26 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 on his person, and fancy her nothing unless in full dress. Now Nature to me is very different, and appears best 
 in her every-day deshabille; in fact, she is a lady that never needed Sunday or holiday cloathes, tho’ most 
 painters, and poets also, still consider that she does need little touches . . to make her beautiful. . . The reason 
 why I dared to take this liberty of a request, is, that on hearing that you had the kindness to make a 
 drawing for the frontispiece for nothing, I felt heartily anxious to thank you for the kindness, and having 
 done so (excuse my vanity), I felt as heartily hopeful that I should one day possess the drawing, but never 
 having those hopes gratified, my disappointment has at last grown up into a determination above timidity to 
 request something of the kind, which would give me a pleasure to possess. Having done so, if I thought it 
 needful I should ask your pardon, but feeling it otherwise I shall ask nothing about it, but go on in begging 
 you will kindly remember me to Mrs. de Wint, &c., &c.” But Clare’s pleading brought no reply, and in 
 an undated letter to Taylor, he long after confesses the chagrin he had felt. 
 
 It is a pleasanter task to shield the faults of one’s hero than to point them out, but even in a sketch 
 like this, salient characteristics are not to be ignored if one cares for truth of impression. The fact is that 
 De Wint had the true bourgeois respect for money; it came to him, perhaps, with his Dutch blood, but there 
 was nothing in the life then led by English painters to root it out. On one occasion he found it necessary to 
 sketch a few cows on the margin of his pupil’s paper, and so he charged five-and-twentv shillings for the 
 lesson instead of a guinea. Again, a gentleman having bought some drawings, the price was named in guineas : 
 “ There are no guineas now, De Wint, so we’ll call it pounds.” “ No, you won’t! My price, sir, is guineas.” 
 “ Really, you don’t mean to quarrel for the shillings ? ” “ Don’t I ? The shillings are my wife’s, and I 
 
 27 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 would quarrel with you for two straws—so take them or leave them.” And there are many more stories of the 
 same kind. On the other hand, all accounts agree that he was scrupulously just and loyal. There is no suspicion, 
 in his case, of more than an exceedingly keen eye to the main chance. 
 
 On occasion, too, De Wint could relax this insistance on his price. In 1843 he accepted, from the 
 Royal Dublin Society, a sum less than half what he had asked for eight of his drawings, begging them to 
 consider the balance his contribution to their work; and three years later we find him agreeing to make a 
 set of examples for the students in the society’s school, also at a reduction from his usual rate of payment. 
 
 It was mainly, of course, to his determination to retain all the profits his work would bear, that 
 
 his shyness of dealers was due. Mr. Vokins was the only one with whom he had any continuous relations, 
 for an isolated and mistaken transaction with Mr. Griffiths, who had left the Church to become a 
 
 middleman between painters and buyers, had been scrambled out of almost as soon as entered. Mr. Vokins 
 gives a droll account of his introduction to De Wint. Knowing the painter’s dislike for his fraternity, he persuaded 
 a mutual friend to act as introducer. 
 
 “ You know Mr. Vokins, I suppose, De Wint ? ” 
 
 “ No ! but I’ve heard of him.” 
 
 “ He is anxious to have dealings with you and to have your drawings.” 
 
 “ I dare say he is,” was the reply, looking hard at his visitor: “ I never made a drawing for a dealer in 
 
 my life. I have a great dread of ’em, and rank ’em with horse-dealers. Besides I make drawings for 
 gentlemen, and have only one price.” 
 
 28 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 Here Mr. Vokins interposed. 
 
 “ Well, Mr. de Wint, if you will make me some gentlemen’s drawings, I am ready to pay a gentle¬ 
 man’s price.” 
 
 “ I don’t see how that can answer your purpose,” replied the painter, “ for I suppose you want a profit; 
 you don’t buy drawings for the love of ’em ; but,” continuing “ if you want my work and will pay my 
 price, you had better come back in a week, and I’ll speak to my wife.” In a week Mr. Vokins returned. 
 De Wint received him more graciously, putting a folio of lesson drawings, not sketches, before him, 
 
 and saying his price for any one, finished, was seven guineas. The dealer chose six, which the painter 
 
 completed most conscientiously. After that their relations gradually became more cordial. Prompt payment 
 was grateful to De Wint, and during the last years of his life many of his best works passed into the hands 
 of Mr. Vokins at prices that now seem nominal. What the painter’s feelings would have been could he have 
 known that a drawing for which he received thirty-five guineas, would be sold within twenty years of his 
 death for sixteen hundred and fifty, we can scarcely guess. 
 
 De Wint preserved his enthusiasm for open-air sketching to the end of his life. His delight in it 
 seems to have been even greater than that felt by other painters of his time and metier. He was never tired 
 of proclaiming the happiness it gave him, and even in his later years would often become so absorbed in 
 
 a sketch as to disregard weather, thereby, his wife declares, laying the seeds of the disease from which he 
 
 suffered at the end. Here perhaps I may quote a few pages from that MS. by Mrs. de Wint to which I have 
 so often referred. They give a sketch at first hand of the painter’s course of life during more than thirty years. 
 
 29 1 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINE. 
 
 “ Most of De Wint’s early and valuable studies were made at Lincoln and the neighbourhood, where he ever 
 found new beauties and new subjects, and what a commonplace observer would consider flat and unmeaning, 
 was in his eye picturesque. The long extensive distances, with their ever-varying effects, the flats bordering 
 the river, covered with cattle, the groups of vessels in the Brayford, the cornfields and hayfields and, above 
 all, the magnificent cathedral seen from so many points, afforded him unceasing delight. He was partial to river 
 scenery, and studied much on the borders of the Trent, about Newark and Nottingham, while with the Thames 
 he was very familiar and frequently remarked on the different character of the two rivers: one so bright and 
 sparkling, the other soft and silvery. Rapid streams delighted him much, and the Wharfe, the Lowther, the 
 Dart, and others, were studied with the greatest intensity. He preferred the north of England and spent much 
 time in Yorkshire, Cumberland, and Westmoreland. . . . Lancaster was also a place he greatly admired, and he 
 made many distant views of the fine old castle. . . In 1824 he went into south Wales and was greatly pleased 
 with the scenery in Glamorganshire, particularly Britton Ferry and St. Donat’s. The latter he thought the most 
 romantic place he had ever seen. Gloucester and its fine old city also afforded subjects for his pencil. The 
 Wye rather disappointed him, although he was much pleased with Goodrich and Chepstow, and especially with 
 Tintern Abbey. Even in the generally considered unpicturesque county of Norfolk he found much to interest 
 him, and spent many happy weeks at Castle Rising . . from Castle Rising he visited the village of Hunstanton, 
 where he was delighted with the bold sea coast, and also with the fine old mansion belonging to the family 
 of L’Estrange. He also went to Norwich and Cromer, and made many studies of the fishermen at Sheringham, 
 and was charmed with their picturesque appearance, and above all with their truly religious character. From 
 
 30 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 having in early life seen very bad drawings of Wales he had an idea he should not like the scenery, and 
 consequently did not go there until 1829 or 1830, but, seeing the country himself, he declared it was the 
 land for a painter. The sublime and beautiful were so blended and diversified, that every step afforded a 
 subject for a picture. He afterwards visited the Principality several times, and followed routes kindly suggested 
 to him by the late lamented Earl of Powys and Sir W. W. Wynne, both of whom were so well acquainted 
 with the country. 
 
 “His last visit to the mountainous district of Caernarvon and Merioneth was in the summer of 1831;. . . 
 He spent much time in the neighbourhood of Ludlow, at Oakley Park. . . Pie delighted in Ludlow, its river, 
 fine old church, and castle. . . It was from Oakley that De Wint first visited Wales, going to Wynnstay and the 
 lovely scenery of the Dee, and to Powys Castle. . . He ever remembered with extreme pleasure his first 
 introduction to this most interesting place on a fine summer’s evening. The setting sun seemed quite in 
 keeping with the venerable structure and its massive entrance, long stately gallery, and, above all, the lovely 
 view from the window of the drawing-room. . . He made finished studies of Caernarvon, Conway, and Harlech 
 Castles. . . He admired Shropshire, which county he frequently visited, having many friends there, and he 
 spent a good deal of time in the neighbourhood of Bridgenorth. . . He made many excursions with the 
 Marquis of Ailesbury, whom he ever found a most kind patron and friend. Later in life he visited this favourite 
 county (Yorkshire) generally every second or third year, and became familiar with every part of it, except 
 the neighbourhood of Duncombe Park, which he always regretted not having seen. In 1828 he made a 
 short tour in Normandy, which was the only time he was out of England. He had many advantageous offers 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE W1NT. 
 
 to go abroad and great inducement urged, but he could not prevail upon his wife to accompany him, 
 and he was so averse to being separated from his family, that he never went. . . With Normandy he was 
 disappointed,” as Hilton was with Italy, “ and,” adds Mrs. de Wint, “ they were both rejoiced to get back 
 to London.” 
 
 Among the De Wint drawings bequeathed to the National Gallery by the late Mr. Henderson, there is 
 one of Tours, which suggests that the painter went farther south than Normandy. This however is the 
 only hint I can find at any extension of his travels beyond the limit named by his wife. Perhaps the 
 drawing in question may be from a sketch by some one else. It is known that he sometimes worked in 
 that way. During his last years, when his health made exposure to the weather dangerous, he more than 
 once made use of the powers of younger people to gather the material he could no longer collect for himself. 
 Just before his last illness he had made arrangements for a vicarious expedition of this sort, in which sketches 
 of selected bits were to be made by a niece, Miss Burrup, in the neighbourhood of Malmesbury and Gloucester, 
 where Miss Burrup still lives. In the Tours there is a pentimento —the cathedral has been much reduced in 
 height and size'—which seems to confirm the notion that he did not make it on the spot. 
 
 32 
 
V. 
 
 RT from what is to be gleaned from a scanty correspondence and a few roughly kept accounts, 
 Mrs. De Wint’s manuscript is the only source to which we can turn for knowledge of what 
 De Wint was about during the years which followed his marriage. Immediately before that 
 event took place he was elected an Associate of the Society of Painters in Water Colours, 
 and twelve months later, a member. In 1821, when a reorganization took place, he withdrew, and at the 
 end of 1822 we find Copley Fielding, who was then secretary, sending him an offer of readmittance. “I am 
 directed,” he writes, “ by the Society of Painters in Water Colours to acquaint you that they resolved, at their 
 last anniversary meeting, to offer to yourself and a select number of those gentlemen who were formerly members 
 of the . . Society, the opportunity of joining . , as members, without previously passing through the degree of 
 associate exhibitor, or being subject to any ballot; &c., &c.” A copy of De .Wint’s answer, declining the 
 honour “for the present,” appears on the fly sheet. It was not until 1825 that his name was restored to the 
 catalogue. 
 
 From 1827 onward, De Wint’s wanderings can be traced by the lists of works kept by his wife. 
 In these are set down the subjects he painted, the people to whom he sold, and the prices they paid him. 
 
 33 
 
 
 K 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 In 1827 his subjects were mostly from Cumberland, Westmoreland, Lancashire, and Yorkshire, and include 
 large drawings of Dacre Castle, A Cornfield in Westmoreland, Aysgarth Force, and A View in Silverdale. In 
 1828 the large drawings ar e. Kenilworth; On the Brathy, Ambleside; View in Lancashire ; and Distant View of 
 Lynn. In 1829 the fruits of his Norman trip are present in a View of the Chateau d’Arques, a Caen, a 
 Dieppe, and a few more. In 1831, most of the subjects are Welsh; in 1832, with a few Welsh drawings, I 
 find many from Norfolk, Cambridgeshire, and South Yorkshire, a selection which is repeated in 1833. In 1834 
 nearly everything in the list comes from Cumberland, Westmoreland, or North Lancashire, while in 1835 
 a few subjects from perennial Lincoln and from the south, from the Isle of Wight and the neighbourhood 
 of London, are mingled with scenes from the same rich sketching ground. In this year his prices appear 
 to have taken a sudden leap, for instead of two or three guineas for the least important I find ten. For 
 eighteen drawings sold during the year the prices amount in the aggregate to £477, which is a considerable 
 increase upon a total of £194 f° r 
 
 In 1836 his subjects are again chiefly Welsh and Cumbrian, but they include Lincoln Cathedral; and 
 1837 the more important drawings are again from Lincoln, from London, and from the Norfolk coast. 
 
 In 1838 we are back in Cumberland, Western Yorkshire, and Derbyshire, and to these districts he remained 
 faithful for two or three seasons. On his way through Derbyshire to his favourite sketching grounds in 
 
 the north-west, he seems every summer to have made a drawing of Matlock High Tor, while in later 
 
 years, after about 1834, he was accustomed to stay his steps in Huntingdonshire, and to sketch within reach 
 of Connington Castle, the home of one of his best pupils, Mr. J. M. Heathcote. Mr. Heathcote must 
 
 34 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 have been a prime favourite, for in the accounts for the year 1840, it is recorded that De Wint presented him 
 with “a little upright landscape, a rural scene,” which, he notes, “was made with Miss Sotheby.” In 1841 
 he painted the large W?st Front of Lincoln Cathedral', from the Castle Hill, which was bought by Mr. Richard 
 Ellison and now hangs at South Kensington. From this year onwards Mr. Ellison’s name recurs more 
 
 regularly than that of any other purchaser, until, in 1848, we find him buying four important drawings 
 
 in a single year, two of which were the Nottingham and the Walton-on-Lhatnes, afterwards given to 
 the nation. 
 
 In these later lists the majority of the entries have quotations attached to them, from the Bible (a drawing 
 of An Fjfect on Crossfell, Cumberland, was, perhaps, overweighted with the verse from Psalm cxliv.: “ Bow 
 the heavens, O Lord, and come down: touch the mountains, and they shall smoke ”), from Shakespeare, 
 from Milton and Scott, from Collins, and even more humble singers. These perhaps it was Mrs. De Wint’s 
 task to search out and fit. In the last four years of his life his subjects grew miscellaneous, as if he were then 
 
 drawing rather upon his store of memory and sketches than gathering new themes. In a single year, 1846, 
 
 I find scenes from Yorkshire, Derbyshire, North Wales, Ireland, Canterbury, and Harrow. In the list for 
 1844 Mr. Vokins figures for the first time, and every year to the last his name recurs. Interspersed with 
 these accounts there are two or three lists, of the drawings about to be sent to the Exhibition in Pall Mall 
 East, and in each list the subjects marked as sold outnumber those which had to take their chance. In one 
 case eighteen are already disposed of out of a total of twenty-nine. It was his custom to have a show at home 
 before sending-in day. He arranged his productions in the drawing-room at Gower Street, marking those sold 
 
 35 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 with a little white label. At these private views it was the habit of one wealthy acquaintance to lament, year 
 after year, that this or that “ perfect gem ” was beyond his reach, being decked with the ticket. Such a game 
 was a dangerous one to play with De Wint. After the little device had done duty some half a dozen times, 
 he determined to be even with its inventor. The day came round for another private view. The friend arrived, 
 and went into raptures before a pair of labelled drawings. “Now, De Wint,” he exclaimed, “those are 
 exactly the things I should like to possess ; what a pity they are sold! ” “ My dear fellow,” said the painter, 
 slapping him on the shoulder, “ I knew you would like them, so I put the ticket on to keep them for you ! ” 
 Tableau !—But the drawings had to be taken; “otherwise”—De Wint would conclude—“I would have 
 shown him the door.” 
 
 For many years De Wint and his wife had cherished the hope of ending their days at Motherby Hill, 
 within sight of so many scenes over which his brush had lingered. With that view the house had been 
 much enlarged and improved in the interval between two tenants. But, in 1846, when it again fell vacant, 
 De Wint’s health had become so delicate, that it was determined to retain his headquarters in London. 
 So the house by the castle at Lincoln was sold, and, during the few years that were left to him, 
 the painter never revisited the scene of his early romance and of so many brilliant pages in the story 
 of his art. 
 
 In the autumn of 1843 De Wint had an attack of bronchitis which nearly killed him. He had 
 worked hard all the London season, and as soon as the last lesson was finished had gone off with a 
 friend into Hampshire to make acquaintance with the New Forest. It had always been his custom to 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 rest for a week after his migration to the country, but this time he at once began to sketch, fearing 
 to disappoint his companion. The exertion and excitement, for to him it was excitement, proved too 
 much for his strength, and it was with difficulty that he was brought back alive to London. Once 
 
 having gained a footing, bronchitis ever afterwards lay in wait for him. In September, 1848, he made his 
 
 last excursion. His goal was Dartington House, Mr. Champerknowne’s home on the Dart. On his way 
 he spent a day or two at Exeter and Totnes, walking much and exploring the scenery. He stayed nearly 
 a fortnight at Dartington, and thence made his last finished sketch, which was afterwards used for the 
 
 drawing reproduced in our plate 21. Throughout the winter 1848-49 he worked intermittently, but with 
 
 the return of spring his health began rapidly to give way. He had his usual show of drawings for the 
 
 exhibition, but soon after ominous signs of the end appeared. From the loving companion of his life he had 
 
 endeavoured to hide the gravity of his condition, and, she tells us, it was not until within a few weeks of 
 his death, that she realized dissolution was near. A slight paralysis added to the trouble caused by bronchitis, 
 and, although he refused to take to his bed, the painter’s vitality rapidly declined. On the 22nd of June 
 he took a drive round the Regent’s Park, and returned home exhausted and helpless. He never fully rallied, 
 and eight days later he died in the arms of his wife. He was buried in the Savoy, in the same tomb as 
 the Hiltons. 
 
 The beauty of De Wint’s life was in his domestic virtues. We have seen his fidelity to the friend of 
 
 his boyhood, but as yet I have said little of his love for his wife. This seems to have been devotion answered 
 
 37 
 
 L 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 by devotion. Constant companionship, to judge by the few letters they had a chance of exchanging, for 
 they were seldom apart, led to a camaraderie rare in married life, in which the petty details which hang 
 about a prudent menage were discussed in phrases which still have a ring of love. Only five years before his 
 death Mrs. De Wint writes to him with a warmth that does not often survive nearly forty years of matrimony, 
 and declares that “ no reward can compensate . for the pain of being separated.” The same love breathes 
 from every line of the manuscript memoir, where it is enhanced by the instinctive good taste with which she 
 dwells upon her affection for her brother and upon his doings, too, in art. 
 
 The domestic felicity that De Wint had reached while scarcely out of his teens, came a little later to his 
 only child. Their next door neighbour in Gower Street was one Mr. Paul Tatlock, a gentleman of nearly De Wint s 
 own age. He was a man of property, with estates in Suffolk and Essex; and so when he began to pay court 
 to the painter’s daughter, Helen, he was allowed every chance. Miss de Wint was no longer in her premiere 
 jeunesse. She had been born in 1811 and it was now 1844 : and so the disproportion was not so very great. 
 There were the hitches over settlements that, with a middle-aged suitor and a man of De Wint s character, 
 could scarcely have been avoided. But in the end Helen was dowered; the marriage took place and turned 
 out a very happy one. When Mr. Tatlock died his worldly goods came to his widow, who was also her 
 father’s heir. 
 
 After the painter’s death his widow made a selection for herself from the works he had left behind. 
 In this selection, which is still in part in the hands of her grand-daughter, Miss Tatlock, she included all 
 
 38 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER BE WINT. 
 
 the oil pictures and the best of the water-colour drawings and sketches. Great numbers of fragmentary 
 
 sketches, things which, had they been thrown into the market would have given opportunities for many a 
 
 swindle, were destroyed; and then the remainder, some five hundred sketches, studies, and finished drawings 
 were sent to Christie’s. They were sold in May, 1850. The proceeds amounted to £2,364 js. 6 d. Twenty 
 years later they would have been ten times as much. 
 
 De Wint was of middle height, slender rather than stout, dark in complexion, and in youth black-haired. 
 At this distance of time it is difficult to get at the whole truth about his character, but its broad lines may 
 be divined. He had a strong will, a deep rather than wide power of affection, a vigour of impulse which 
 was held in check by distrust of strange people and new ideas. Instincts that seldom erred made him an 
 artist: industry, physical vigour, and readiness to accept conditions, brought him success. In one who by 
 blood was half a Dutchman and half a Lowland Scot, it is not strange that a full regard for “gear” was 
 
 combined with deep and sincere religion. For many years it was his custom to read a portion of Scriptuie 
 
 and write out a prayer before he began his work, and this he never omitted even when travelling. In the 
 last half of his life he devoured books of devotion, among which, we are told, one in particular made a 
 strangely deep impression. His tastes, as we call them, were few. His one intellectual passion was for the 
 nature he could grasp and render. He had room, though, in his soul for a few quaint affections. He was 
 fond of chess, of gypsies, of curious locutions. He loved to hear poetry read, and he was a good hater. In 
 
 39 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 his latter years he became so irritable with all but his most intimate friends, that men used to address him 
 with caution, putting themselves in an attitude of mental defence to be ready for what might come. But a 
 fault like this, and some others over which I have felt bound to cast no veil, may be easily forgiven to one 
 who not only widened the horizon of art, but gave a life’s devotion to the friend and the love he had 
 found in his boyhood. 
 
 40 
 
VI. 
 
 WINT’S method of teaching was in advance of his time. As described to me by Mr. J. M. 
 Heathcote it was this. He would take any convenient objects he could find in the room 
 and set them in a group on the table, with a towel or other white cloth carelessly thrown 
 against them. These he required to be carefully imitated. He also induced his pupils to 
 doors, laying stress on form and the broader units of local colour. These sketches were 
 afterwards used for finished drawings, in the making of which he would help by pointing out defects, and by 
 practical illustrations with his own brush. “ His object was to teach the principles on which the school of 
 Holland obtained its fame, and to apply them to the rendering' of English scenery.” 
 
 When painting on his own account, he worked almost invariably on “ old Creswick paper,” which was 
 manufactured in delicate ivory tints. This was always more or less granular in texture, which thoroughly 
 suited his style, for it enabled him to strike his rich transparent tones well into the body of the paper. This 
 he did by saturating it, and, while it was wet, mosaicing it, as it were, with rich harmonious colours, some 
 cool, some warm and glowing. His aim was always to succeed by the first intention. The bloom of his colour 
 
 4i 
 
 M 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 was never disturbed in the shadows, “ lifted ” tints being confined to the half tones, and used only in his large 
 works. His sketches and small drawings were carried out entirely in undisturbed colour. Body colour, like 
 the rest of the great masters in the English art, he abhorred, but now and then he used it. The reverse I 
 
 know has been maintained, but both the recollection of some of those who knew him, and the evidence of a 
 
 few among his own drawings, unite to prove his occasional backsliding. Look for instance at the minute 
 
 panorama of Nottingham and its neighbourhood, in the South Kensington Museum; there the cattle and 
 some parts of the foreground are reinforced by loaded touches of colour mixed with white. 
 
 Like all robust masters, De Wint made use of few colours and the simplest means to obtain his effects. 
 His strength was in what he had to tell rather than in the elaboration of the telling. His palette theiefore 
 was short, more short perhaps than safe. According to Mr. Orrock, to whom I am indebted for some of these 
 details, it consisted of the following pigments :— 1 
 
 Indian red (not the ordinary preparation). 
 Vermilion. 
 
 Purple Lake. 
 
 Yellow Ochre. 
 
 Gamboge. 
 
 Brown Pink. 
 
 Burnt Sienna. 
 
 Sepia. 
 
 Prussian blue (also a special preparation). 
 Indigo. 
 
 1 The list was given to Mr. Orrock by a pupil of De Wint. 
 
 42 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 All painters now and then indulge in a few colours outside their daily list, but this was De Wint’s usual 
 orchestra. As for tools, he commonly worked with a large, round, well-worn brush, mounted in quill, and 
 with a second of about the same size, but new and with a fine point. 
 
 But in saying all this I may be confirming the common but mistaken impression that De Wint’s powers 
 were confined to landscape and water-colour. The presence for the last fifteen years of his two finest oil 
 pictures in the Gallery at Kensington has done something, little known as they are, to correct one part of 
 
 this mistake. They prove that even as a worker in oil he deserves a place among the foremost, but they 
 
 leave untouched the notion that his affections were confined to landscape. It was circumstance and not 
 predilection which drove him into a groove. All through life he made intermittent attempts to get out 
 of it, and to give a wider scope to his art. These attempts became fewer and less serious as time 
 advanced, but nevertheless they have left enough proofs behind that his powers and tastes were both 
 
 alike catholic. Miss Tatlock has a number of studies — figures, boats, carts, buildings, and, above all, 
 flowers — which show that in whatever came before him he laid his hand largely upon its artistic 
 capabilities, and fitted it with a rendering at once broad and faithful. Few better tests of aesthetic 
 instinct can be named than the painting of flowers. To paint them as Van Huysum painted them requires 
 
 much skill in arrangement, in the management of tints, and in the handling of a brush. But to paint 
 
 them broadly, to render, rather than imitate, their colour, to combine truth to form with a coherent 
 
 arabesque, to unite in fact the decorative instinct of the Japanese with the European demand for creation, 
 
 argues a much higher order of intellect. And this power De Wint possessed. The flowers I have seen 
 
 43 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 of his are but studies in sketch-books, but they display the same grip on available truth that gives distinction 
 to his landscapes. 
 
 After he had once begun to be known as a painter in water-colour, De Wint seldom or never sold 
 an oil picture. But he never ceased to paint them. Every year saw the addition of one or two to his 
 collection. As soon as they were finished, they were taken up into the loft of the house in Gower Street. 
 This had been boarded, plastered, and whitewashed, and fitted with narrow ledges on which the canvases could 
 stand. When a “ patron ” displayed any curiosity about his work in oil, he was taken up to the primitive 
 gallery at the peril of his neck. But such excursions never ended in a diminution of the stock. After the 
 painter’s death Mr. Vokins made his way to the loft, and he has told me of his amazement at seeing so many 
 fine things so utterly unknown. Most of these pictures are still in the possession of Miss Tatlock, but the 
 two best with a pair of less importance were presented to the Kensington Museum by her mother, the 
 painter’s daughter. Like the rest, they had been sent to the Academy and either rejected or skied. Fifty years 
 ago that august body was not kind to water-colour men who dabbled in oil. It either wished to hold them 
 to their lasts, or, failing to understand their works, took for granted they were bad. In the first instance 
 Mrs. Tatlock made her offer to the National Gallery. At that time the late Sir William Boxall was director. 
 He perhaps had never heard of De Wint as a painter in oil. In any case he was so little attracted 
 by the lady’s proposal that he never even tried to see the pictures, and so Constable’s Cornfield, and Haywain, 
 and Valley Farm, are left without two of the best companions they could find in Europe. 
 
 Both pictures are splendid. In their facture traces, no doubt, of a method based on the peculiarities 
 
 44 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 of his more accustomed materia], are to be recognized. In the Woody Landscape with Water the handling is 
 broad and flat, the colour almost fluid, the general aim purity of tint. The Cornfield is comparable to one of 
 those drawings in which an infinite modulation of tone and atmosphere is won by broad washes of colour 
 scientifically laid and elaborately manipulated. Our plate. No. 22, has ignored the sky, and has falsified a 
 tone here and there ; the figures on the left for instance, and the clump of trees beyond them, are too dark; 
 but otherwise it fairly suggests the beauties of what may, I think, be called the masterpiece of De Wint. 
 It is an early harvest in July, with the noon-day sun striking down through the summer haze, and bathing 
 
 a wide champaign in a glowing gold to which the ripe corn seems to give a conscious echo; with reapers for 
 
 it has been a case of “cut and carry” — herding in the shadows of the stooks to eat and rest; with the drowsy 
 horses sleeping as they stand, and the vaporous clouds hanging motionless against the depths above. It is our 
 English summer at its best, and our English art. Simple is the tale it tells, and frank the telling. Warm in 
 tone, luminous in colour, coherent in line, and assured in technique, it unites nearly all the best qualities of the 
 best of the schools of landscape. 
 
 If to the picture I have just described, we add the drawings reproduced in our plates 20, 
 7, 21, and I, we shall get a fair idea of De Wint’s range. In the Conisborough Castle dignity and 
 concentration are won by breadth; m Haymakers similar qualities are employed to give a less solemn 
 impression ; On the Dart — almost, if not quite, his last important picture—is more panoramic; it has less unity 
 and depends but little on form. Lovely as it is, and true no doubt to the scene, it is scarcely a creation, 
 
 45 n 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 and in that is less characteristic of De Wint than of the school to which he belonged. The fouith 
 drawing. The Entrance to Lincoln, with the West Front of the Cathedral, is remarkable for the beauty of its 
 arrangement and for the firmness and comprehension with which the great church is diawn. 
 
 In De Wint’s finest works which, with a few exceptions, I take leave to think those inspired by solemn 
 rather than by smiling scenes, there is a dignity which suggests Ruysdael, and is equalled in English art only 
 by the best drawings of Girtin. And it is a dignity won without artifice. De Wint never dresses a scene 
 in gravity that is not its own. He never deals otherwise than frankly with colour. In his drawings local tint 
 has a purity of truth approached only by Constable. Even in those things in which the solemn note is 
 strongest, in the Ruins of Lincoln Castle, for instance, at the National Gallery, there is no attempt to win 
 repose by making tone do the work of colour. It is won as nature wins it. Accidents are shorn away 
 with a skill that never errs, but in the fusion compelled by the change of scale, the key-note is never for 
 a moment lost; in the labour of creation the limits of material are never for a moment forgotten. As 
 consummate examples of De Wint’s more sunny manner, I may name the little panorama of Nottingham 
 and the famous Cricketers, both at South Kensington. Unfortunately changes in the sky, where the Indian red 
 has eaten up the blue, have deprived the latter of its freshness ; but De Wint’s supreme powers as a colourist 
 are still to be enjoyed in its undamaged parts. The groups in the middle distance, and the felled trees in the 
 foreground, display a wealth and veracity of local tint which are even yet unrivalled. This gem long lay 
 perdu during the painter’s life. He always stretched his drawings on a board before they were framed 
 
 46 
 
MEMOIR OF PETER DE WINT. 
 
 for exhibition, and when one returned unsold, he would sometimes strain another over it, to save the expense 
 of a new stretcher. This he had done with Cricketers. After his death Mr. Vokins discovered its existence 
 by the merest accident, as he was preparing for the sale at Christie’s. 
 
 De Wint’s place in English art is with Constable and David Cox. Like Constable he saw instinctively 
 the true capabilities of English landscape, and, like Cox, the true powers of the medium in which he worked. 
 His coup d’ceil for a subject was even finer than theirs. He seized with a quicker instinct on the best point of 
 view, the most rhythmical combinations of line, the most effective chords of colour. His sense of unity was 
 almost unerring. In his most hasty sketches, no less than in his finished pictures, there is ever a central idea 
 led up to and enhanced by every touch of his brush. He was less robust than Constable. He had none of 
 his inability to follow; none of his desire to combine illusion with balance, to make the restlessness of nature 
 shine through the repose of art. Neither had he the intense sympathy with nature’s moods which distinguished 
 Cox, nor his sense of the brotherhood between still life and humanity, nor his love for the infinities of colour. 
 His greatness depends more on insight than imagination, more on selection than inclusion, more on unity 
 than width of view. He was, in short, more strictly, more narrowly some might say, an artist. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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