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'"^OKwm]^ •^■i3mwm'^ "^/saJAiNniwv ^lllBRARYQ^ >&Aavaaii-^"^ ■<^\m 'Or o .VlOSANCElfjVx "^/saaAiNniwv ^tllBRARYQ^ ^vJ^ttlBRARYQc^ ^d/OJIlVJJO'^ ^Qmyi^^ ,5!(\EUNIVERy/A , '%3A £2 J Or > -< Si %a3AINI15l\V^ ,^OFfAllF0% <§ .A;OfCAllF0%, ^^Aavaaii-^ 5jt\EUNIVER% ^ §' j\^^ .vK:10S'; %a3, ^ILIBRARYOx^ • I? \ ^OF-CAilFO% ft ^^ ^^AavaaiH'^ AWEUNIVER% ^■mi'Mw^'-' — n I ^lOSANCElfj-^ A^^HIBRARYQ/r, e^ LIU = I « .^ .■5ME-UNIVER% ^v>4nS-/ &\ o< 0^ s^H- 'A- o ^^lOS-AfCFlFXA 7//rujAHjn.mV^ ^OF-CAIIFOS"^ ■^rtaMWMflinv^i^ '^/iaHVHfliiA^?^ -*?,■ \\\F-llNIVfRy^^_ O li. 5^ C3 •!-^^t'v Denis DuzuiPs rii/et. Reproduced by permisiion of Messrs. Smith, Elder and Co. FREDERICK WALKER 19 not less as an artist than as a man, was essentially self-developed — a true product of his time, but yet isolated from his predecessors and fellow- workers as have been very few even among painters of undoubted initiative and originality. Once fairly started he owed much ]ess to his contemporaries, whether English or French, than has been imagined, and to ancient art other than classical sculpture, nothing. This attitude of aloofness is to be noted neither all in praise nor all in blame ; it is the natural outcome of Walker's temperament, of his apparently limited power of appreciating such art as was outside the bounds of his own immediate sympathies. k is the result of his absolute self-concentration, and his curious system of slowly, laboriously working up artistic material. Important determining impulses from without he certainly received at more than one point in his career, and in submitting to these he but followed the natural and, indeed, one may say, inevitable order in which a true creative personality, such as his, develops itself. If, without descending to mere imitation, he had shown himself more capable of assimilating the technical results achieved by others, he might have glided more easily over many a stumbling-block, and attained to that perfect, unfettered expression of self which, as it is, he cannot be said to have reached. Besides Once a Week and the Cornhill our artist did work in these years for Good Words, Sunday at Home, and other magazines. It is during this period that he executed for Messrs. Dalziel his drawings of the Seasons, which are of especial interest as affording elements of comparison with the later versions of the same subjects amplified in his more elaborate style. Spring shows with true tender- ness and simplicity a girl and boy gathering primroses in a thicket blossoming already, although its branches are still naked and gaunt. Summer, a truly Pre-Raphaelite performance in its literalness and naive truth, presents two boys bathing in a pool overhung with trees. It has been pointed out that here we have the original motive out of which grew, first a water-colour in which the figures are more numerous and the design takes a more graceful shape, then one of the artist's most important works. The Bathers of 1867. Autumn shows a girl in an orchard, standing under a still leafy apple-tree laden with fruit ; one of these she has plucked and holds in her hand. The design of Winter is B 2 Little Dtiiis Dances and Singi before the Nuz'y Geiitlemen. Reproduced Ly permission oj Messrs. Smith, Elder and Co. FREDERICK WALKER 21 more restricted and prosaic in conception ; it gives us, much as one of William Hunt's water-colours might have done, only with a certain pen- siveness in lieu of jollity, a boy standing at a frozen pump, with a half- bitten piece of bread-and-butter in his hand. In Spring, the differences between the earlier and simpler drawing and the later and more developed one, as it appeared, a water-colour of important dimensions, at the Royal Society of Painters in Water- Colours, are particularly striking and in- structive. The first Sp7-i)ig is a shade stiff, but it is true in gesture and movement — as delicately as accurately observed. The second, more pictur- esque and decorative in design, is less immediately based on Nature, and therefore less truly expressive. There is something forced and very nearly artificial in the grace of the child's movements, something of that contourn'e quality in the design, upon which there has once before been occasion to remark. The Autumn is already a little over-studied in the first rendering ; its expressiveness cannot be said to be enhanced in the subsequent and more elaborate version. Mr. Comyns Carr has in his already more than once quoted essay dwelt with evident sympathy on this peculiar quality of Walker's ; this constant attraction exercised over him by his earliest motives, this system of returning to them over and over again, to change, to amplify, to adorn with the fruits of a passionate and sustained study of Nature in her minutest details. While, however. Inventions such as those of our painter may gain in studied grace and ideality, in maturity of conception and rich- ness of amassed detail, by a gradual process of elaboration and completion such as that to which he submitted them, they must necessarily lose in spontaneity and freshness, in swiftness and truth of delineation. It Is not easy with such a system to retain that indefinable quality which suggests the instantaneous vision of the painter, seeing his subject complete in essentials ere he attacks it. Over-elaboration — the working out of a subject as it were from different centres instead of as one coherent, dramatic whole — is precisely the drawback from which Walker's art most suffers. His method of progressive development well accounts for the mixed feeling with which we contemplate precisely those works by which his fame has been won ; for the difficulty which, while admiring exquisite episodes in these, v/e feel in grasping them in their entirety ; for the lack of that current of vitality which should hold together the 22 FREDERICK IVALKER component parts of a great work and give it both pictorial and dramatic unity. It may be as well to deal here with a notable instance in point, thouo-h somewhat out of its proper chronological order. There is, perhaps, in the whole range of Walker's iviivre no design more forcible, more masterly in its absolute grasp of nature, than the little-known etching The IVay- farers. The suggestion of onward movement, the characterisation of the two figures— that of the sturdy, youthful rustic, no less than that of the The U'difdren. old and disabled peasant of forbidding aspect who leans on him for support — is perfect. The landscape is certainly more prosaic and less attractive than in the later version — the large canvas of the same name and subject which dates trom 1866, and was last seen in public this winter at the Old Masters' Exhibition. This latter land- scape with its late autumn melancholy, its moist atmosphere, its maze of tangled branches and twigs nearly stripped of their leaves, is one of the painter's most elaborate and beautiful transcriptions from nature. The fii^ures, however, will not bear comparison with the singular FREDERICK IVALKER 23 and more realistic ones of the etching. A sort of pseudo-idealism has been at woxV. sentimentahsing them at the expense of the unvarnished truth which, as we may guess, appeared to the artist too prosaic for per- petuation on a large scale. The pretty youth who supports and guides the steps of a vagrant, of milder but less probable mien than that of his predecessor, skates rather than walks on the down-hill road ; an air of weak, sweetened semi-realism pervades the whole, and in this instance individual truth is sacrificed, but general truth is not attained in a compensa- tory degree. The etching not having been published during the painter's lifetime, it is not easy to fix the exact date of its execution. Still it is manifest that it rests upon a design which must, from its very nature, have preceded that of the finished picture in oils. Among the designs for wood-engraving executed in these early years (about 1863) must be particuhirly noted Tlie Dames iSV/zco.'', which in the drawing on the block, still intact,^ is much finer than in the pub- lished version. This is a typical example of Walker's happy treatment in early days of the simplest of everyday subjects. Here he does not distort his theme, or force into it more than it can well bear. He preserves intact all significant fact, but transfigures it by the glow of his ardent sympathy. Still a little stiff and hesitating in the working out, the composition is finely and evenly balanced, well observed in all its parts, and its unity remains unimpaired. While working for bread and butter at his black-and-white work, Walker was learning to paint, both in oils and water-colours, though whether his self-education in these directions was assisted by any regular tuition does not sufficiently appear. His first important essay in oils was the canvas "The Lost Path, which was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1863, and though there skied — as the first production of an unknown man painting in an unfamiliar way may often happen to be — attracted considerable notice and praise. Judging by the powerful etching of Mr. Waltner — the writer cannot call to mind to have seen the picture itself — the design is one cf the most convincing, one of the most ^ This drawing for wood-engraving, which was shown at the Paris Exhibition ot 1878, has recently been acquired, togetlicr with those ot" Autuinti and a few subjects from Goldsmith's She Stoops to Conquer, for the Print Room of the British Museum. The South Kensington Museum has the similar drawing for The Fishmonger, and the wood-block for Summer above described. 24 FREDERICK IVJLKER concise and natural in its strength that Walker produced. A woman caught i'.i a snowstorm, which has made ot the cross-country path a trackless drift, presses on swiftly, holding her sleeping child wrapped from harm in her shawl ; her half-seen face, as she closely presses the precious burden to her bosom, shows courage to fight for life, yet withal but little hope. It was in August, 1863, after sending in this maiden work in oils to the Royal Academy, that Walker made a first visit to Paris in the company of his friend Mr. Philip Calderon (now R.A.), who, our painter being all guiltless of French, agreed to pilot him round the sister city and show him the artistic lions. Mr. Calderon notes that, so far as he could judge from appearances. Walker remained but little moved in the presence of even the greatest masterpieces of the Louvre, no single picture attracting his attention sufficiently to induce him to speak of it afterwards. One great canvas, however, the Sacre de T Imperatrice Josephine by David, then in the museum at Versailles, but within the last icw years removed thence to the Louvre, quite fascinated him. Mr. Calderon says: " He kept us a long time in the room studying the picture from corner to corner, and when we at last left it, he gave us the slip and ran back to it, and was with ditfi:ultv got away." At first, there seems to be an irreconcilable anomaly in the fact of Walker, the tender, the homely, the child of to-day, bowing down before the stern Gtcxco-Roman David, when neither Raphael, Titian, n()r Rembrandt had succeeded in moving him. There is however in the central group of David's great work, showing Josephine in the elegant half-classic costume of the moment, with her imperial robes upheld by the fairest ladies of her court, a perfecti(3n of balance, a suavity and a stately grace which must have called up reminiscences of that early classic trainmg among the marbles of Greece and Rome of which the influence was before long to re-assert itself so strongly. Of still higher interest is it to learn from the same informant that at the Luxembourg it was Jules Breton with his Fiji de la Journee, and not Delacroix, Couture, or any of the more full-blown glories of the century, who attracted our painter's notice.^ On the occasion of this his 1 An amusing caricature by Walker, which we miglit well liavc assumed to be the outcome of this first trip to Paris, were it not stated on good authority that this is not FREDERICK IVALKER 25 first visit to Paris in 1863, it by no means follows as a matter of course that he had an opportunity of seeing any original work by Jean-Francois Millet, who, although he had at that date already produced his greatest masterpieces, was still hotly discussed in Paris, and by no means defini- tively accepted on all sides. Had our artist waited for the Salon of 1863, which there is no reason to suppose that he did, he would have had an opportunity of seeing the immortal L! Homme a la Hone, than which no work of the French master was on its first appearance more passionately praised or more unsparingly attacked. There is much in Jules Breton's sc-ene melancholy never quite reaching the verge of sadness, in the idyllic grace which he infuses into modern rustic life, which must have appealed to Walker even more than the noble generalisations and the massive grandeur of Millet. ^ One must, however, listen to his friend's wise note of warning, and refrain from drawing absolutely hard-and-fast conclusions from Walker's silence about art, and c|uestions connected with it. He was, we are told " the most silent man I have ever known — never joining in a discussion, but listening (with a twinkle in his eye) to what others said, without ever giving a clue to his own opinions, and ending generally by heartily laughing at both sides." Mr. Calderon's conclusion, to which much weight must attach, as that of a brother artist and friend who Jived some years in close intimacy with our painter, is that neither French nor indeed English art had any lasting influence on him. Yet, judging Walker by his works and the course taken by his art in unfolding itself — reasoning too, by analogy with the early developments of even the most original genius — this must appear a somewhat exaggerated statement of his position. True, it may be safely said that hardly any modern English artist of mark has so little belonged to a definite group or school ; yet it is evident — the remark has already been made here — that the English downrightness, the the case, is the pen-and-ink drawing Doing Paris : the Last Da^ (collection ot' Mr. W. H. Hooper), showing our artist in his shirt-sleeves lying exhausted on his French bed, while a companion, whose face is efFectually hidden, sits at ease, deep in the Times. This sketch is drawn on some notepaper marked with the heading of the Hotel Rastadt. 1 Yet more strongly was the exquisite art of George Mason, while it showed on the one hand strong affinities with that of the Italian landscape painter, Costa, influenced by that of Jules Breton ; as may be clearly seen, for instance, in one of his masterpieces, The Evening Hymn. •0.6 FREDERICK JFJLKER sincerity and pathos of John Everett Millais in his first manner deeply affected him, and left an easily recognizable trace on the art of his earlier time. Though it is emphatically untrue that Walker, save perhaps in one ■or two exceptional instances, deliberately imitated I^rcnch art, or in any way " Frenchified " himself, it may very fairly be inferred that from the contemplation of such works as those of Jules Breton and Millet, he received a new impulse. May not such an impulse have revived his dormant classical reminiscences, and opened his eyes to the artistic possibilities of mociern rustic life presented without the sentimental airs and graces with which it had hitherto been tricked out ? Looking back at the painter's artistic career, we find ourselves wondering whether the impulse thus communicated, though at what exact point it would be hazardous to affirm, was not for harm as well as for good — whether Walker's genius might not more legitimately have developed itself on the basis of national art, and with that simplicity free from all arriere- pensee with which it started. CHAPTER II The Royal Society of Painters in Water Colours ; " Philip in C lurch " — At tie Royat Aeademy — Caricatures — Fisit to Paris in 1S67 — Influence oj Jean Francois Millet —Fisit to Feniee—" Tie Fagrants "— " Tie Oil Gate." The Royal Society of Painters in Water Colours showed itself much more ready to appreciate Walker's work than the Royal Academy had been ; with them he came, he was seen, he conquered. The historian of the Society, Mr. Roget, tells us that he was elected an Associate on the 8th of February, 1864, on the strength of three out of four drawings sent to the spring exhibition ; so that he actually made his first appearance at Pall Mall East full-fledged, judged, and accepted as worthy almost with- out probation. Before referring to these drawings it may be well to deal with one produced a year or two previously. This is The Black- berry Gatherers (collection of Mr. John Galsworthy), signed as no other work of the artist's with which we are acquainted is signed, " F. Walker, i860." It is a curiously stippled little production, which, were it not for a certain personal grace and tenderness making itself felt even thus early, might almost be taken for a Birket Foster. The water-colours sent to the Society in 1864 were Philip in Church ; the large Spring, to the development of which from the earlier and smaller version, drawn for a woodcut, a passing reference has already been made ; Garden Scene, a subject from Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre ; Refreshment, a design showing a group of children at dinner in a field, which, in black-and-white, had already appeared in the same year in Good IVords. These first contributions to a water-colour exhibition show different degrees of maturity, and from the Garden Scene, to Philip in Church, the advance is so marked, that the two 28 FREDERICK IFJLKER drawings cannot well have been produced simultaneously. The Gardeh Scene (collection of Mr. George Smith) carefully stippled in the artist's first manner is hard and dry in colour, stiff in composition, and does not show a complete grasp of the personages represented — Rochester and Jane Eyre. It has, on the other hand, that perfect naivete and sincerity which may win pardon for many faults, that realism, poetized by feeling but not by any tampering with everyday truth, which belongs to English Pre-Raphaelitism in its first and most genuine phase. Philip in Church (collection of Mr. Henry Tate), is a fuller and more detailed realization of the beautiful woodcut which appeared in the Corn- hill Magazine, but happily not a new variation or a fuller devehipment of the subject. It reveals even more strongly the influence of this same Pre- Raphaelitism, as embodied above all in Sir J. E. Millais's earliest and most remarkable efforts. It is infinitely richer in colour, more perfect in drawing, happier altogether in realization than the companion picture just now referred to. Of its kind Walker has done nothing finer, perhaps nothing so fine, and one can well understand the verdict which a little later on, at the Paris International lixhibition of 1867, conferred upon the artist in respect of this very work, the second-class medal, a distmction not (jbtained by any other exhibited drawing in the same medium. What is particularly winning ab:;>ut the Philip, apart from Its more easily reckoned up merits — its happy combination of wonderful finish with a sufficient breadth, and the essential qualitv of physical and spiritual life — is that it is typically English, altogether true and national in its growth. A radiance of sympathy emanates from the artist and envelop'S his creations, lighting from within with beauty a certain home- liness and dov.diness inherent to the subject. Inevitably, when a little later there is superimposed on this homely English realism an element of decorative classicism, beautiful in itself, but not legitimately evolved from its essence, the dramatic, the creative side of Walker's art sinks a little into the background, and what is gained in graciousness is lost in vital truth. Our painter on this the occasion of his debut, proved himself to be already a highly skilful executant according to the peculiar method which he had elaborated for himself His results were obtained by a lavish use of opaque pigment, the high finish of every part, in which there was 7;!i,!s everything : on the one hand dreams of the tutiux, on the other dreams of the past. Here, as in the case ot ^ Studied from tlic Fishmongers' Almshouses at Bray. FREDERICK li^ALKER 59 the splendid young mower, the contrast between youth and age is moving enough, but too deliberate, too much forced upon the beholder, to attain its full effect. The composition is straggling and episodic ; it lacks con- centration both of line and motive, and as in The l^agrantSy and The Old Gate, we have rather beautiful elements of a picture than a picture. We may each of us pick out our favourite figure, our favourite passage of lovely detail or colour, and from no part is beauty absent; but we cannot, without preliminary study, take in the impression of the picture as a whole, because it is not seen or felt as a whole. The Harbour of Refuge is now, through the munificence of Mr. William Agnew, the property of the nation. Its present place is on a screen in the Turner Room, where it is crushed by its mighty surround- ings — those canvases so tremendous in power, even when they are mighty mistakes. A finished replica, executed on a smaller scale in water-colours (collection of Mr. Humphrey Roberts) appeared at the exhibition of the Old Society in 1873 4. It is perhaps in some respects an improvement on the original, of which it retains the beauties unimpaired, while reduction of size gives greater concentration. The movement of the mower — but this may be fancy — appears in this version rather truer to nature. This last was in the group of water-colours by Walker shown at Burlington House in the winter of 1891, on which occasion it was, for not obvious reasons, re-christened The Vale of Rest. There exists an unfinished design for the Harbour of Refuge , which was No. 149 in the Memorial Exhibition ■of 1876, and also, in the collection of Mr. Somerset Beaumont, a repetition of the two figures on the terrace — the young girl supporting the aged woman — this being one of the last works upon which the painter was engaged. To 1872 belongs also The Escape, which is the working-out in water- colours of a drawing done for Once a Week in 1862. This may be re- garded as the precursor of the unfinished design. The Unknown Land, the two versions of which will be referred to a little later on. In the winter exhibition of the Old Society of 1872-3 appeared The Fishmonger s Shop, which many connoisseurs have held to be our painter's finest achievement in water-colour. Daring and splendid in the harmony of its tints, so finely balanced as to produce that unity of tone most difficult xo compass with contrasting hues of a frank brilliancy, it is nevertheless 6o FREDERICK WALKER more of an amusing, richly-tinted object-study than a picture in the truest sense of the word. The group which is the centre of the colour-harmony. The Fishmonger. the bluc-aproned, rosy-checked fishmonger who bends forward across the marble slab as he offers his fish to a gaily dressed damsel in the habit of about 1800, though it is well enough placed in the brilliant ensemble. FREDERICK WALKER 6i lacks vitality and significance. The tour de force lies in the happy com- bination of the bright green woodwork which frames the shop with the blue-green and the red of the sparkling fish, with the indigo blue of the jolly salesman's apron, and the yellow and tawny of the girl's pretty, old- fashioned costume, relieved by the coral pink ribbon in her hat. This is undoubtedly a brilliant performance of its kind, a nearer approach to the /TrtLVO'rt of the purely technical exercise than anything Walker has pro- duced. Yet it is difficult to understand on what grounds Professor Hubert Herkomer, R.A., is entitled to speak of it, as he is reported to have done recently in an address delivered at the opening of the Birming- ham Walker Exhibition, as marking the climax of modern English water-colour. To accord such a place to it is surely to take a strange view of the past as well as the present of that most national branch of English art. Walker repeated the Fishmonger s Shop on a smaller scale in a drawing which was not publicly exhibited duting his lifetime, but was No. 9 in the Memorial Exhibition of 1876. This year, 1872, marked the climax of our artist's achievement. He had inherited a tendency to pulmonary disease, and just now when his talent was still rapidly developing itself and his technical powers had matured to a point higher than they had yet reached, his health began seriously to decline. In 1872-73 (or was it 1873-74.'') he took refuge from the severities of a northern winter in Algiers, but became restless at his severance from art and friends, and lost whatever benefit he might have derived from the African sunshine by his return to brave the cold winds of March. Like Basticn-Lepage, who fled thither a few years later in the vain struggle with disease, he does not appear to have been deeply impressed — at any rate artistically impressed — with the splendours of the North African coast. There is nothing to show that, like his friend and brother in art, Mr. J. W. North, he took to the Algerian scenery, or seriously sought to interpret its peculiar charm. We know that for him even Scotland appeared too vast and too scenic ; that the homelier beauties of the Thames Valley, the English scenes and the English life had his heart. Walker was unable to contribute anything to the Royal Academy exhibitions of 1873 and 1874, and sent the Water Colour Society in the summer of the former year only The Village, the chief motive of \N'hich 62 FREDERICK IFJLKER is a red-brick bridge with little knots of country people on and about it. Marked by even more than the painter's usual truthfulness and exquisite- ness of detail, this is slightly more prosaic and topographical in its careful finish than other similar productions. The smaller Harbour of Refuge was in the same place at the winter exhibition of 1873-4, but he was unrepresented at the summer exhibition of 1874, while at the winter one of 1874-5 only "The Rainbow, v^w interior with two girls looking out of the window, reminded the public of their favourite. Things were rapidly going from bad to worse with poor Walker, and it is pretty evident that, seeing how strong was the predisposition of his family to phthisis, he must have felt himself to be in a grave condition. There is reason to believe, however, that the doctors fearing that his intense nervousness might precipitate the catastrophe, spared him the knowledge that the danger was imminent. Thus, it Walker exposed himself more than imder the circumstances he ought to have done, he was, it may be hoped, spared the worst of all griefs to the man in whom sickness has not extinguished vouth and genius — that of seeing himself slowly die and feeling that he died with his work only half done, with his ideal only half expressed, with potentialities within him ot far nobler things than had yet been achieved. It was thus that Bastien- Lepage died inch by inch, after a manful hand-to-hand struggle with the grim enemy, and with him the agony of the light prematurely c|uenched. of the hand no longer nerved to express what the brain conceived, was far worse thai the physical suffering of dissolution. On the 23rd of July of this year! Walker wrote to S. P. Jackson, who had offered to help him as to lodgings : " I fear I must give up the notion of being at the Thames' side this season, for since I wrote to Leslie on the subject I have had a letter from my doctor, who thinks I ought for this season to avoid the Thames as 'lowering' and 'relaxing' com- pared with certain spots I have mentioned to him as good trom an artistic point of view — and as there is some chance of my going to Scotland a little later, perhaps it is better for me to give up the notion." To the Royal Academy he sent in 1875 his final contribution. The Rjght of Way, which caiuiot be classed among his most successful efforts. It depicts a meadow with a winding stream, in the foreground of which 1 ]. L. Rogct's History of the Old Water Colour Society. ^ '\ 64 FREDERICK WALKER are two figures — a woman carrying a basket of eggs, and a little boy who, frightened at the advance of an ewe, cHngs to her skirts for pro- tection. While this picture was yet hanging on the walls came, with terrible suddenness, the news of the painter's death. He had gone to Scotland, to indulge once more in the sport \\hich he so passionately loved, had been seized with a violent cold, which aggravated the most fatal symptoms of his disease, and succumbed after a very few days' illness at St. Fillans, Perthshire, on the 4th or 5th of June, 1875. He was buried at Cook- ham, his favourite Thames-side resort, beside his mother and a brother who had fallen a victim before him to the same fell disease. A memorial tablet with a medallion portrait carved in low relief by Mr. H. A. Armstead, R.A., was afterwards placed in Cookhani Church by the painter's friends and admirers. Among the unfinished works left behind was one canvas of import- ance, so far advanced towards completion that it has been exhibited on more than one occasion since the artist's death. This is called Sunny Thawes, and now temporarily hangs in the picture gallery of the Guildhall, to which it has been contributed by Sir Charles Tennant. A little company of youthful rustics is seen fronting the spectator on a high bank by the river ; one of them, a boy bigger than the others, sits on the edge fishing, his bare legs dangling over the rich red earth, over- grown with wildflowers and weeds. This figure is in itself, like so many ot Walker's single figures, a noble design, but the picture as a whole is, perhaps on account of its imfinished state, unpleasantly hot and " foxy " in colour. It compares unfavourably with the much smaller rendering of a similar subject by George Mason, known as 'Young Anglers^ and last seen at the winter exhibition of the Royal Academy ot 1893-4. Here the bright grey sky, the pale waters, the landscape, the little fisher-folk seem all to fit naturally into one undivided and indivisible whole, which is just what the component parts of Walker's pictures so rarely do. A peculiar interest, a peculiar pathos, attach to one composition, An Unknown Land, of which two quite distinct versions, both of them still in the stage of the preparatory sketch, were found with the ill-fated painter's artistic remains. It is hard to resist the conviction that here 1' ■5? •I ^ 66 FREDERICK JVJLKER solemn thoughts prompted Walker to revive an earlier design, already twice seen in progressive stages of development. For once he not only develops, but altogether widens and transfigures his invention. In the first of the two unfinished designs the boat of the explorers, who have reached the unknown shore, is being hauled on to the beach by statuesque, semi-real youths, such as he loved to depict, in a light which may be that of sunrise or sunset, but in its rainbow-hued changefulness is more like the latter. In the second and finer design — that belonging to Mr. H. R. Robertson — Walker allows himself to float away from and above the reality on which he has hitherto based all his pictorial inventions. There is something of the poet-painter's radiant vision, cf the mystery and vastncss of the unknown, in this bold powerful group, forcefully outlined against the blazing orb which rises, huge and awful, from the bosom of the sea, filling all space with its rays. Walker etched a few plates which did not appear during his lifetime, but were after his death purchased and brought out in a complete set of six by the well-known print-publisher, Mrs. J. Noseda, of 109, Strand. The first of these were necessarily of a tentative kind, but in the later lunubcrs of the short series which represents all that he had leisure to produce the progress in technique is very marked, and it is made clear that with more practice he might have commanded a considerable success in this side branch of his art. The etchings are published without any titles, so that by way of identification one has to luake these for ones self. The first and most tentative of the set shows a girl shelling peas in the back-yard of a London house. The artist himself called it, we are told, after the huge butt which is a prominent and unlovely feature of the whole, Mrs. Collius' s Waterhutt. This plate he took to his friend Mr. J P. Heseltine, of Queen's Gate — the noted collector whose name there has been occasion to mention more than once already in the course of these remarks — and they bit it together. The result was not very successful, but it was the etcher's first attempt, and he was not then familiar with the small technical difficulties which nothing but experi- ence can overcome. The second in order of date of the set we may guess by its stiffness to be the Little Girl Eating Porridge^ a design more or less in the style of William Hunt. His own portrait, an etching which was never carried beyond the head, shows him with hair picturesquely TS:. FREDERICK IFALKER 69 dishevelled — a typically Bohemian apparition. An unfinished study, more delicate and reticent than strong, has as its motive an old couple of primitive aspect seated in a kitchen — she working apparently at a stock- ing, he with a clay-pipe in his hand, and a beer mug at his side. Then we have a preliminary study, principally in dry-point, for the old man in The Wayfarers. Last, and best bv far, comes 'The Wayfarers itself, that splendid piece of incisive realism to which reference has already been made in discussing the picture of the same name. The execution of the plate shows the artist very far on the way to high accomplishment as an etcher. For truth and power of suggestion these two figures are at least as fine as anything of the kind Walker has done, although they may not be acceptable to those who prefer the milder and less boldly characterized v:5' ^/•j version of the oil-painting. vfJ^Z/tf! Not much has been said in the 'i?^ course of these remarks about Walker the man, and that for many reasons. In the first place his lite was not, ,as re- gards its outward landmarks, an event- ful one. Like that of so many artists of genius and ardent endeavour it was Portrait of the Artist. swallowed up in his life-work, and had no independent course. Still, while nothing is more unsafe than to draw rule-of-three inferences from a man to his work, and vice versa, it is always interesting to study the artistic temperament — to note where it is at one with, where it diverges from the human personality. In England we are wont to exercise a certain reticence in such matters, and to refrain for a long space of time from lifting the innermost curtain which veils the private life of those whose works have made them in a sense public property. In France the biographer is franker,, or more indiscreet if we like to call it so ; and the result is that we get a more complete picture of the man, with those strongly marked lights and shades which naturally go to make up the figure of the creative artist. Thus not only the life but often the art is made more clear to such students as are not content with the mere surfaces of things It must be left to those who knew Frederick Walker, who were bound 70 FREDERICK IFALKER to him by bonds of friendship or fmiily tics, to tell, if they can, the story of his all too short life, and fill up the outlines of the character to which not even his most intimate friends were sure that they possessed the key. It has been seen that trom the very start he was nervous, feverish, excitable, of a physical temperament which is best described by the adjective waladif, while he remained, even to those brother artists to whom he gave his friendship and confidence, almost impenetrable on all subjects connected with his art. Not only did he never formulate or dogmatize, but he hardly ever even stated a point of view in words, or underlined a preference. The curious thing was that this physical imhcalthiness never coloin-ed his art, as physical disease has been known to do in the case of more than one great artist who could be named. All it did was to impart to it a more tremulous sympathy, a more regretful tenderness. It is easy to understand how, to a nature such as his, criticism — to which, indeed, the painter rarely, if ever, submits with the good grace which in the man of letters so often disarms antagonism — should have been intolerable. Even his most intimate friends, when they visited his studio, were not allowed to see the unfinished canvas; the easel was hastily wheeled round with its face to the wall ! Perhaps, seeing what Walker's temperament was, he chose, in so doing, the wisest course. Mr. Comyns Carr has well said on this point : " With a nature so keenly sensitive his own criticism of himself was perhaps all he could endure. The advice of others, however well intended, would only have had the effect of paralysing his efforts." That this was indeed the case is best shown by the fict that adverse criticism induced him to obliterate in At the Bar what has been described by those who remember it, as " one of his most singular and exceptional efforts," and that he seems, if we may judge from the result, to have distrusted his power to improve upon what he had destroyed. Mr. Hodgson, R.A., in An Artist" s Holidays,^ has given a vivid picture of his laborious method of conceiving and working out a first sketch : — ■ ' Never did artist groan as he did in the throes of production. It was painful to see him ; he would sit for hours over a sheet of paper, biting his nails, of which there was very little left on either hand ; his brows would knit, and the muscles of his jaw, which was square and prominent, ' Miigcizinc of Art, September, 1SS9, pp. 3S8, 389. FREDERICK WALKER 71 would twitch convulsively like one in pain. And at the end all that could be discerned were a itw fiiint pencil scratches, the dim outline of a female figure perhaps, but beautiful as a dream, full of grace, loveliness, and vitality. A few scratches would indicate a background which seemed a revelation, so completely was it the appropriate settinc; to the figure." iVIr. Hodgson gives us in this same paper a fearless and searching criticism of Walker the man, the most complete in its sharp outline that we at present possess, though it errs, perhaps, in the fiilure to perceive that mind and body cannot in summing up, as he does, be dissociated. The irritating traits so vividly noted being manifestly but an outcome of the terrible disease which, as the writer himself records, from the first held Walker in its grip, should not have disentitled the man to one jot of the sympathy which is so generously accorded to the artist. It is necessary to quote further from this firmly sketched portrait ; for the De mortiiis is surely not applicable to men of Walker's stamp, but only to the smaller fry, in respect of whom British reticence and decorousness enjoin that an even balance should be struck : — " Everything about him betokened an early death, not because he was frail and delicate, for frail and delicate men sometimes drag out the thread of life to great lengths, nor, as in the case of his host (Richard Ansdell, R.A.), was he in any danger from over-industry and application. His mind was not very cultivated ; he was inarticulate, and his conversation gave no idea of his powers. His intellect, I should opine, was of rather a slow and lethargic cast. . . . There was a taint of hereditary disease in his blood, and its development was no doubt hastened by an abnormally irritable and sensitive nervous system. There was a strong tie of friendship between Ansdell and him, and nothing could be stranger than the contrast between them ; the one a man of iron nerve, whom no fatigue, no misfortune or annoyance could perturb — proud, resolute, and self-relying ; the other blown about by every wind, child- ishly elated at one moment, depressed almost to despau- at the ne.Kt. . . . When annoyed even by trifles, he was beside himself. He had a passion for telegraphing ; when the fit was on him he would send off messages at intervals all day. It was terrible to hear him complain of the injustice and ill-treatment of which he supposed himself a victim, quite unreason- 72 FREDERICK WALKER ably as it appeared to me, as the world seems to have agreed to treat him indulgently, as a delicate and spoiled child of genius. He was passion- ately fond of fishing, and seems rarely to have touched a pencil when away from home for a holiday. ... In speaking of painting, he once said that ' Composition is the art of preserving the accidental look,' which is as good as anything that has been said on the subject. He had splendid gifts ; but some malignant fairy, some disappointed godmother at his baptism, must have filched away the most essential concomitant, without which even happiness seems impossible, the gift of a placid mind, and that equipoise of faculties which leaves the mind serene and im- perturbable." It is necessary to say a word or two more about Walker's relation, or supposed relation, to two contemporary Englishmen whose names have often been bracketed with his. In the course ot these remarks the art of George Mason has already been discussed, and such a discussion is indeed inevitable when it is sought to give a picture ot Walker and his time. While it would undoubtedly be wrong to assume an intimate artistic connection between the two men, or a leaning of one on the other, it is an over-statement of the true position to assert that the apparent relation between them is only a superficial one, depending upon their choice of subjects — upon their predilection tor rustic figures of our own time, framed in landscape having more than a casual and exterior relation to those figures. The real link between Mason and Walker is that both saw the truth that harmony, grace, rhythm — the elements of style — might be revealed where they lay half hidden in the everyday subjects of to-day, and that without undue falsification in dis- tortion ; that the inherent pathos of lite and of nature is not best expressed by pictorial anecdote or by a cheap sentimentality. Whence each derived impulse and vivifying power must remain a point for inference rather than assertion. An effort has here been made to show what fired the train in Walker's case. The genesis of Mason's art is clearer, since we must take into accomit his long residence abroad, and the influence which Sigr. Costa cast over him on the one hand, and — as we do not know for a fact, yet must necessarily inter — M. Jules Breton on the other. It may be that the artistic passion glowed with less intensity in Mason than in Walker, that his genius was of a less original. FREDERICK WALKER 12 a less national, type ; but he was certainly the more complete, the more perfectly balanced artist of the two. His aim was — like that of Millet Bof Looking at a Dead Bird. himself, with whom he had otherwise little or nothing in common — to see men and things in a large synthetic way, to express the beauty and harmony of the type, not the individual ; to marry the human element 74 FREDERICK JVJLKER to the environing landscape so that the one cannot be conceived of with- out the other. Making the necessary sacrifices, and going perhaps too t"ar — seeing what were his subjects — in the direction of elegiac grace and the sugrgfestion of linked and balanced movement, he expressed his idea to the utmost, as Walker, torn by the two conflicting currents of his nature and his will, was never able to do. We may find passages in The Plough, The Old Gate, The Harbour of Refuge, that move us more deeply, that have a more penetrating, a more intimate charm than anything in The Eveiiiiig Hymn, The Harves Moo>i, or An English Pastoral. We may note in Walker's work wonders of delicate execution such as Mason did not attempt ; but as works of art, as things of absolute accomplish- ment in their own particular way. Mason's best productions must take precedence of Walker's. It is well known that personal sympathy, as well as a certain com- munity of aim in art, closely united Walker to another contemporary, Mr. J. W. North, A.R.A. It has even been said by those well qualified to speak on the point, that after Walker had become acquainted with Mr. North, his colour became less chalky, more various and richer, his landscape "took a deeper, richer glow in the shadows, as if in the twilight they exhaled the heat of the long summer day." This might well be so, since the relation between the landscape of the two artists is manifest even to those who have never heard of their personal connection. On the other hand, we have seen how self-centred Walker was, no less in art than in life ; that he was open on occasion to impulse trom without, but much less easily to an influence affecting the minutiae of technique. There are no such startling breaks or leaps in the evolution of his land- scape as absolutely to preclude us from assuming that it was self-de- veloped ; so that its exact relation to Mr. North's must remain a point to be decided by individual appreciation, unless further and more direct evidence be brought to bear upon it by those near to the sources of information. It was a happy inspiration of the Royal Society of Birmingham Artists to juxtapose in their recent exhibition the works ot the two painters. 'vVhile the undefined relation between them was aflirmed, it was made ad- ditionally clear that Walker, whatever he may have owed to his triend and companion in art, ended by overshadowing him on his own ground. The strength, the definiteness of Walker's draughtsmanship, the firmness FREDERICK WALKER 75 and beauty ot his patient yet never trivial execution, caused Mr. North's landscapes, with all the over-subtlety of their loving elaboration, with all the charm of their tangled luxuriance, to look a little pale and ineffectual. Mr. Hodgson, elsewhere in the sketch from which so much has already been quoted, thus praises the painter : — "To Walker we may truly apply Charles Lamb's words, ' Upon him his subject has so acted that it has seemed to direct him, not to be arranged by him.' He had the divine faculty of inward sight ; his vision was slow to obey the summons, he had to perform many exorcisms and incantations, but it arose at last, and once there he held it fast." This is high praise indeed, and fully deserved by the earlier, if not wholly by the more mature works of the artist. The Walker of The host Path, of Philip in Church, of "The First Sivallozv, even up to a certain point the Walker of The Bathers, was so acted upon as to be directed by his subject. The Walker of the works by which his highest fame has been won, of The Vagrants, The Old Gate, The Plough, The Harbour of Refuge, was acted upon by conflicting influences, and finally drawn to adopt or rather to form a style which was not, in the opinion of the writer, that in which his genius could find the freest and truest expression. It matters little, after all, whence came the spark v/hich set alight again his dormant love of Greek art, with its essential characteristics of synthetic simplicity and idealised truth. On the one hand, his blood was fired with the desire to evoke, to lay bare, the hidden classicality in nature, on the other the very minuteness of the gaze which he lovingly fixed upon humanity and nature rendered him incapable of the sacrifices necessary to the attainment ot the classic ideal. He must perforce dwell on every lineament ot the human face, on the individual man, not on man the type or the class. He loved every blossom, every leaf, every branch, every meadow, every eddy of the stream, every turn of the road, every moss-grown stone and purple-red tile of the house ; from nothing beautiful under the heavens could he bring himself to part. Necessarily he thus sacrificed much ; putting force and unity of impression, largeness and simplicity of intention and execution, truth of atmospheric envelop- ment, into the background, and preferring to them exquisiteness of local truth and wealth of isolated and highly developed motives. Thus, when 76 FREDERICK WALKER he willed to be Greek qiiand mhne in depicting English rustic life, and yet to remain realistic and truthful, he was manifestly, with his individuality, and with his artistic equipment, striving for the impossible. Unconsciously he was induced to force into, instead of evolving from, his rustic figures a classicality, a rhythmic grace, which might well lurk in. Onion ill F/ozver. them, but which the portraitist of the individual did not and could not go the right way about to lay bare. It was otherwise with Jean-Francois Millet, whose name naturally presents itself in this connection. It is by a legitimate process of synthesis, such as the Greeks themselves adopted, by stripping off the outer husks of men and things, bv effacing the individual and leaving only the general and typical, that he arrived at a true classicality more FREDERICK WALKER. 77 nearly akin to the Greek spirit than anything that modern art can show. His peasants are not the " ambitieux " that Delacroix called them, because they are unconscious that they represent more than ^The Sower, 'The Gleaners^ The Man with the Hoe, The Shepherdess Tending her Sheep, The IVasher-lFoman, The Slayers of Sivine. Still, they are not only magnificent pictures of the things for which they primarily stand — pictures in which the higher and more typical truth is secured by the sacrifice of the lower — but they are the noblest representations of humanity in its struggle with Nature — mother or step-mother. Who shall quarrel with Millet if his Man with the Hoe typifies all labour with its never-ending outlook ; if his Mother watching her Chihi is all maternity with its untiring solicitude ? Who shall complain if on many another canvas that could be named, he shows — as the painter, not the lyrist or the argumentative man of letters — the indefinable links between man, the higher, nobler animal, but still the animal, and the patient beasts of burden of whom he is one — between man and the earth, which is to conquer and cover him at last .'' It mav well be doubted, as those who know Walker best have doubted, whether, with the peculiar artistic temperament, with the peculiar quality of artistic vision which marked all that he produced, he would ever have acquired the unity of style, the power of selection, the breadth ot view necessary to give full value to the subjects he affected, if they are to be interpreted in the manner in which he in his later style strove to interpret them. It is probable that throughout he would have remained the portraitist of nature and of man — the rare and tender portraitist, it is true, prompt to divine the least obvious beauties of what he saw, but still the portraitist. This being so, and his very nature in its essence rendering it impossible that he should renounce the presentment of the individual so as to attain to the presentment of the type, it is not easy to divine how the vain struggle to reconcile two ten- dencies absolutely antithetical would have ended. Would Walker have persevered in the path upon which he had entered, would he have con- tinued to elaborate works full of beauty — or rather of beauties — yet also of irreconcilable contradictions } Would he have sacrificed his tendency to the individualization of men and things in order to obtain that large synthetic grace, that sculptural harmony of line and movement after which 78 FREDERICK WALKER he so evidently thirsted ? Would he with increased skill and increased sensibility have returned to the unquestioning simplicity, to the naive and true mode of interpretation of his earlier manner ? As it is, it must be said, with all respect and admiration for a painter whose artistic personality is so exquisitely sympathetic, so interesting in its struggle for a more complete and homogeneous development, that we have in the art of Frederick Walker, as it presents itself even in its latest phase, promise rather than complete achievement, the scattered and even, it may be said> the conflicting elements of beauty, rather than beauty in the sense that beauty means unity, strength, and complete significance. Whatever view we may take as to the exact place of Walker's life- work in the English art of this latter halt ot the nineteenth century, it is impossible to regard him otherwise than as one of the most interesting figures of that time ; so isolated does he stand among the painters his contemporaries, so little does he owe on the whole to English or foreign example ; so strenuous, so pathetic is his striving after the higher ideal as he saw it, or deemed that he saw it. During the years that have elapsed since his death his fame has stood higher far than ever it did in his lifetime, and there is as yet no outward sign that it has diminished or will diminish. It is possible, nevertheless, that posterity may not uphold to the full the view of the last two decades. As to this it would be mere presumption to hazard a prophecy, especially on the basis of an appre- ciation which is certainly at present not that ot the majority. Even should a later and more dispassionate judgment not completely confirm the peculiar position accorded to Walker, it not above, yet at any rate apart from that of a home-grown artist of his day, it will assuredly assign to him a niclie in the British Walhalla, and uphold his reputation as one of the most linglish of moderii I'^nglish painters — perhaps the one in whom the wistful tenderness which goes so far to redeem our time of trouble and misgiving, in art as in lite, has found the most touching expression. INDEX About, Edmund, 1 1 Academy, Royal, 9, 10, 23, 47, 52, 55, 62 Agncw, William, 59 Algiers, 61 "Amateur, The," 55 Ansdell, Richard, 71 Armstcad, H. A., 64 "Autumn," 19, 30 " Bar, at the," 56 Basticn-Lepage, 44, 61, 62 ■'Bathers, the," 30, 32 "Beehives," 46 "Blackberry Gatherers," 27 " Bouquet, The," 30 Dreton, Jules, 24, 25, British Museum, 9, 2 26, 38, 7: Calderon, Philip, 25, 34 Carr, J. Comyns, 10, 21, 40, 56, 57 Chalmers, G. P., 54 "Chaplain's Daughter, The," 33 Constable, 30 Cookham, 64 " Cookham, the Street," 43 Conikill Miigdzinc, \ o Costa, Sigr., 72 Dalzicl, Messrs., 19 "Dame's School," 23 David, M., 24 Denis Duval, designs for, 17 "Denis Duval's Valet," 30 Durcr, Albert, 11,52 " Escape, The," 59 Etchings, 66 Everybody's 'Journal, 1 1 " Evidence for Defence," 30 "Fishmonger's Shop, The," 59 " First Swallow," 43 "Garden Scene," 27, 28 Geibel, 1 1 "Genius under the Influence of Fresh Air," 34 Gilbert, Sir John, 56 "Girl at a Style," 57 "Gondola, A," 46 "Harbour of Refuge, The," 48, 53, ", 58, 59. 62 Herkomer, Hubert, 61 Heseltine, |. P., 66 Hodgson, Mr., 70, 71, 75 "Housewife, The," 57 "How dare you say such things to Jim, Grandpapa," 5 I Hunt, Holman, 7 Hunt, William, 46, 66 "Introduction, The," 30 Israels, Josef, 54 Jackson, S. P., 62 Keene, Charles, 1 1 So INDEX ■"Lady in a Garden, Perthshire," 51 "Rainbow, The," 62 Langham Chambers, 10 "Refreshment," 27 Leech, fohn, i i Ritchie, Mrs. Richmond, 12 Leigh, Mr., 9 ' Rogct, T. C, 17, 27 Leighton, Sir F., 34. Rossctti, D. G., 7 "Let us drink to tlie Health ot the Royal Society of Artists, Birmingham, 12, Absent," 33 57, 74. Lewis, A. J., 9, 35 Raskin, John, 4.6 "Lilies," 30, 44, 50 "Lost Path, The," 23, 56 St. Flllans, Perthshire, 64 Louvre, the, 24. Sandys, T., I I Luxembourg, the, 24. School, North London Collegiate, Camden Town, 9 Macbeth, R. W., 57 Seasons, designs for, 19 Marks, Staccy, 3+ g^^j^,^^ George, I I "Marlow Ferry," 55 "Spring," 19,27 Marylebone, 9 a Stobhall Gardens," 20, 50 Mason, George, 6, 2;, 33, 6+, 72 "Stream in Inverness-shire," 46 Menzel, Adolf, 14, 17 ., g^,^^,^^ Thames," 64. Millais, Sir John, 7, 11, 13, 17, 26, 2S Millet, Jean Francois, 25, 26, 38, ;o, 54, -p^^.j^^^ -pom, II 73- 76 Tcnniel, J., II Moray Minstrels, 35 Thackeray, 11,12 "Mushroom Gatherers," 40 Miss, 13, 3 3, 44 "Mushrooms and Fungi," 46 "Three Fates, The," 33 XT , T -sir ^ Trollope, Anthony, 13, 14, 15 North, J. W., 61, 74 ^ Noscda, Mrs. J., 66 ,., , t 1 - ^ /'/c "Unknown Land, 59,64,6c " Old Farm Garden," 57 " Old Gate, The," 48, 54 " ^■agrants, The," 47, 5 + " Once a Week," 10, 1 1 " '^'•'''.'^ °^' ^"f'" 5'^ "Orchard, L> an," 41 Venice, 46, 54 Orchardson, W. O., 55 \-ersailles, 24 "\'illagc. The," 61 Paris, 24 Paris 1867 Exhibition, 28, 38 Waltncr, Mr., 23 "Philip in Church," 15, 27, 28 Water Colours, Royal Society of Painters /'/:i/i/> (,n his ll'.i\ through the World, 111,27,30,54,55,61 designs for, 14, 15 Watteau, 10 Pinwcll, George, 6 "Wayfarers," etching of the, 22, 69 "Plough, The," 48, 52, 54 "Wayfarers, The," 30 Pre-Raphaelites, 7, 1 7, 5 I Whymper, T. W., 10 Punch, designs for, 35 Wood engraving, 10 ?]3GN\S01^ JAINIV]\\V ^ iU'JIlVJ-dM' ,\WtlJNIVERy/A 'A- "'ARY(?/C 'JilJJ.Vi'^iUi" ■^/iajAii^.i jiw ^ -^'^1085 BNIV[R5-/^ ^l ^3 O « [.ONIV[R% ,v>:l IP,?ARYOr ^^l — • u^ UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. ■"dUJllVJiO oa ilVJ'jOt Vfl IVEI 1ARY(9, >* IIF'- ^ ^- A'OtlM iVES l-^-^^ .^ > ij TO '^AajAiNn-Jwv^ ■*j '^ I CPRARY^,- A\inRRARY(9/ -;\\FrN'IVFi:,V/. 1^"^ %\m )i IMr D 000 012 144 2 ■'J IJJil^ yj\ 6-' ^ ^v\-ins-ANr,F[fj-^>. >- -\" vlOSANHFlfr.