"PHIZ" (H. K. BROWNE) A MEMOIR.
"Fizz, Whizz, or something of that sort," humorous Tom Hood would say, when trying to recall the pseudonym that has since become so familiar by means of the innumerable works of art to which it was appended. At the time Hablot[A] Knight Browne first used this quaint soubriquet, it was customary to look upon book-illustrators as second, or even third-rate artists—mere hacks in fact; and for this reason they usually suppressed their real names, in order to give themselves the opportunity of earning the title of artist, when producing more ambitious results as painters. Occasionally, whether by accident or design, the subject of this memoir would affix his real name to his illustrations; and the public were consequently under the impression that the two signatures were those of different artists, and were even wont to remark that "Browne's work was better than that of 'Phiz!'"
It is not, perhaps, generally known that the artist's first nom de crayon was "Nemo," which to some extent bears out the above statement that a book-illustrator was considered a "nobody." Mr. Browne himself, in referring to the Pickwick Papers, gave the following explanation:—"I think I signed myself as 'Nemo' to my first etchings (those of No. 4) before adopting 'Phiz' as my soubriquet, to harmonize—I suppose—better with Dickens' 'Boz.'" It is only on the earliest printed plates in some copies of the Pickwick Papers that the signature of "Nemo" can be faintly traced.
Hablot Knight Browne, son of William Loder Browne, a descendant from a Norfolk family, was born on the 12th of July, 1815, at Kennington, London. He was educated at a private school in Norfolk, and from an early age evinced a taste for drawing, which, being recognized by his relatives, induced them to apprentice him to Finden, the well-known line-engraver. An anecdote is told of him during his apprenticeship which will bear repetition. Finding Browne very painstaking and conscientious, his master usually sent him with engraved plates to the printer, in order that he might superintend the operation of proof-taking. As printers usually take their own time over such matters, the youth found that this waiting the pressman's pleasure tried his patience too much. It therefore occurred to him that to spend the interval in the British Museum, hard by, would be much more suited to his tastes. On his returning with the proofs, Finden would praise the boy's diligence, little thinking what trick had been practised on him.
Line-engraving, however, did not find much favour with the future "Phiz," the process being too tedious; for Finden would probably occupy some weeks to produce a small plate, which by the quicker process of etching, could have been executed in as many hours. He accordingly suspended operations in that quarter, and, in conjunction with a young kindred spirit, hired a small attic, and employed his time in the more fascinating pursuit of water-colour drawing, which he continued to follow with remarkable assiduity until a few days before his death.
These juvenile disciples of the brush then worked hard at drawing in colour. Browne paid his share of the rent in drawings, which he produced rapidly; indeed, there was a solemn compact between the co-workers to "do three a day"—they subsisting, meanwhile, on the simplest fare. At this time he attended the evening class at the "Life" School in St. Martin's Lane, and was a fellow-pupil with Etty, the famous painter of the "nude." It was Browne's great delight to watch this talented student at work, and he considerably neglected his own studies in consequence.
At the age of seventeen, or thereabouts, he succeeded in gaining a medal offered for competition by the Society of Arts for the best representation of an historical subject; and was again fortunate in obtaining a prize, from the same Society, for a large etching of "John Gilpin." Mr. George Augustus Sala, himself an artist of no small ability, remembers to have seen, in a shop-window in Wardour Street, a certain print by a young man named Hablot Browne, representing the involuntary flight of John Gilpin, scattering the pigs and poultry in his never-to-be-forgotten ride.
By the time he had attained his twentieth year he had acquired considerable facility with the pencil. Charles Dickens, but three years his senior, and with whom the name of "Phiz" is inseparably connected, had just then made a wonderful reputation by his "Sketches," which first appeared, at intervals, during 1834-5, and were afterwards published in book form, illustrated by the renowned George Cruikshank.
In 1836, there appeared in print a pamphlet of some forty or fifty pages, entitled Sunday under Three Heads—As it is; as Sabbath Bills would make it; as it might be made; "By Timothy Sparks; illustrated by H. K. B.;" and dedicated to the Bishop of London. The author was Charles Dickens, whose satire was levelled at Sir Andrew Agnew and the extreme Sabbatarian party, and had immediate reference to a bill "for the better observance of the Sabbath," which the House of Commons had recently thrown out by a small majority. The illustrations in this little work were drawn by Hablot Browne, and are very choice examples of wood-engraving of the school that existed half a century ago. Its original price was one shilling, but having become very scarce, it is now worth more than its weight in gold.
These early productions of Browne's pencil at once introduced him to public notice, and Dickens showed his appreciation of their excellence by selecting him as the illustrator of the Pickwick Papers, which appeared during the early part of that year. It is well known to the readers of Forster's Life of Dickens, that the idea of "Pickwick" was suggested to the author by Robert Seymour, whose tastes induced him to etch a few plates of sporting subjects to which Dickens was to supply the text. Thus commenced that immortal work known as The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club. Seymour produced seven illustrations, when he committed suicide, which obliged the publishers to make arrangements with another artist. R. W. Buss[B] succeeded Seymour, and etched two plates, which Dickens, who had by this time assumed the control of the work, thought so unsatisfactory (as indeed they were), that he declined his further services. Here a fresh opening was created, and William Makepeace Thackeray competed with Hablot Knight Browne for the post; both submitting to Dickens' inspection some specimens of their work.
The choice fell upon "Phiz," the artist whose ability has so admirably proved the wisdom of the selection; and Thackeray thereupon determined to adopt another profession, with what happy results let Esmond testify. Who could say whether Vanity Fair would ever have been written had this mighty penman been chosen to succeed Buss? It is curious to note Thackeray's great anxiety to become an artist; he even went abroad to study, but Sala tells us that "Mr. Thackeray drew, perhaps, rather worse than he had done before beginning his continental studies, although at that time he actually supplied a series of etchings to illustrate Douglas Jerrold's Men of Character, which were prodigies of badness."
When "Phiz" had been selected as the illustrator of the Pickwick Papers, his generous rival was the first to tell him the good news, and offer his congratulations.
"Phiz" may now be said to have fairly commenced his career as a book-illustrator. His sense of humour corresponded so exactly with that of Dickens, that a mere suggestion enabled him to vividly represent the scenes described by the author. It has been remarked (and truly) that in many cases the plates do not correspond with the text; but this can be accounted for. Dickens, then an enthusiastic young author, and somewhat impetuous in his demands for drawings, would arrive unexpectedly at Browne's studio, hurriedly read a few pages of manuscript, and exclaiming, "Now, I want you to illustrate that," would take an abrupt departure, carrying the manuscript off with him. As soon as the artist could collect his faculties, he would try to recall the scene so hastily described, and endeavour to put it on paper. Dickens himself, in his preface to the Pickwick Papers, gives a similar explanation, viz.—"It is due to the gentleman, whose designs accompany the letterpress, to state that the interval has been so short between the production of each number in manuscript and its appearance in print, that the greater portion of the illustrations have been executed by the artist from the author's verbal description of what he intended to write." It is therefore not surprising that a few errors, in such details as the number of boys in a procession,[C] or the dress of an individual, should occur.
Of Dickens' Novels, Martin Chuzzlewit contains, perhaps, our etcher's most vigorous productions, but the small woodcut illustrations in Master Humphrey's Clock are very praiseworthy, and without doubt conduced greatly to the popularity of the book.
The illustrations in the Pickwick Papers are on the whole inferior to many which "Phiz" subsequently executed. But an exception must be made in favour of the artist's realization of the character of Sam Weller, than which, even Seymour's happy invention of Mr. Pickwick did not more effectually ensure the popularity of Dickens' comic epic and give it a "deathless date."
The extraordinary demand for copies of the Pickwick Papers necessitated a re-etching of the copper-plates, which, owing to friction caused by the printer's hand, had become very much worn. This reproduction will account for any slight difference in the details of the illustrations; for the repetition of subjects once etched, was a task by no means congenial to the artist; and this no doubt induced him to say, some years afterwards, in a letter to one of his sons, "O! I'm a' weary, I'm a' weary of this illustrating business."
Artists frequently experience great difficulty in realizing, to the author's satisfaction, the description of scenes and characters. An illustration is here given showing Browne's various "fancies for Mr. Dombey," all of which failed to please Dickens, who also expressed his disapprobation of this artist's treatment of another subject in Dombey and Son. "I am really distressed," writes he, "by the illustration of Mrs. Pipchin and Paul. It is so frightfully and wildly wide of the mark. Good Heaven! in the commonest and most literal construction of the text, it is all wrong. She is described as an old lady, and Paul's 'miniature arm-chair' is mentioned more than once. He ought to be sitting in a little arm-chair down in the corner of the fire-place, staring up at her. I can't say what pain and vexation it is to be so utterly misrepresented. I would cheerfully have given a hundred pounds to have kept this illustration out of the book. He never could have got that idea of Mrs. Pipchin if he had attended to the text. Indeed, I think he does better without the text; for then the notion is made easy to him in short description, and he can't help taking it in."
As the tale proceeded, the artist more than compensated for his unsuccessful rendering of this incident; and with "Micawber," in David Copperfield, he obtained the author's entire approbation, who says, "Browne has sketched an uncommonly characteristic and capital Mr. Micawber for the next number." Again, with reference to an illustration in Bleak House, "Browne has done Skimpole, and helped to make him singularly unlike the great original."[D]
Of the private life of "Phiz" little is known. His extreme nervousness and dislike to publicity was often misconstrued as pride; and Dickens even had considerable difficulty in occasionally persuading him to meet a few friends and spend a pleasant evening. When he did accept such invitations, he invariably tried to seclude himself in a corner of the room, or behind a curtain. His desire for a quiet, unobtrusive life, induced him to pass most of his time in country retirement, all business matters in town being transacted by an intimate friend.[E] Authors or publishers wishing to have a personal interview with "Phiz" were compelled to visit him at his residence, a few miles from town, and many were the contretemps on dark nights as they crossed a bleak moor to reach their destination. His sons looked forward to the time when visitors were expected, in order to hear the stories of wild adventure which generally befell them, and to laugh at their discomfiture.
"Phiz" had been from his boyhood accustomed to horses, and frequently hunted with the Surrey hounds. To this circumstance is due the extreme facility with which he delineated the horse in action in the hunting field and elsewhere. At one time he contributed sketches to The Sporting Gazette. This industrious artist was never known to take a lengthened holiday, but occasionally spent a few days at the seaside, where, no doubt, his pencil was fully employed. A letter, written while staying at Margate, to his son Mr. Walter G. Browne (whom, for some unknown reason he styled "Doctor"), shows his innate sense of humour.
Tuesday, June 19, 6a, Crescent Place, Margate.
My dear Dr.,
"I hāāve my W. C. White:[F]—but I have no white collars—and as I am swelling it about without a necktie—mine having mysteriously disappeared, left behind in a bath probably—perhaps it would be coming it too strong to appear without collars also, and it is hardly warm enough for it either. Your P.O. is from the Miscellany—to H. K. Browne—from Mr. Barrett—Xtian name unknown—and no matter. Any blocks that come, forward on. Send me a * * * * * * before I return. I did some very good shades myself—of myself—unconsciously—yesterday evening. The baths run along one side of the High Street, flush with the pavement—and I found when I had nearly finished my toilet that the gas-burner was so ingeniously placed, that it was impossible for any bather to avoid casting gigantic studies of the nude upon the window blind.—This sort of thing.—"
[Here follow several other sketches of the bather in various attitudes].
His appreciation of fun is thus referred to by Dickens in a letter to Mrs. Dickens, dating from the Lion Hotel, Shrewsbury. "Thursday, Nov. 1st, 1838.—We were at the play last night. It was a bespeak—'The Love Chase,' a ballet (with a phenomenon!), divers songs, and 'A Roland for an Oliver.' It is a good theatre, but the actors are very funny. Browne laughed with such indecent heartiness at one point of the entertainment, that an old gentleman in the next box suffered the most violent indignation."
In 1837, "Phiz" accompanied Dickens to Flanders, for a ten days' summer holiday; and in 1838 they went to Yorkshire, a journey which resulted in the production of Nicholas Nickleby.
The following year he made one of a party of four, and visited, with Dickens, Macready and Forster, nearly all the London prisons. These joint tours of Author and Artist could not fail to assist the realization of the scenes they intended to depict.
It is an interesting fact in connection with the career of "Phiz," that he would never agree to draw from the living model,—all his representations of moving crowds, and the various types of humanity, which his etchings exhibit, being drawn from recollection. He would sometimes make a few jottings in pencil—mere memoranda—when anything struck him as being worthy of reproduction, but beyond that he depended on his excellent memory. For example, he would go to Epsom on the Derby Day without taking a pencil even, and, on returning home, would draw to the life exact portraits of any conspicuous or eccentric character he had seen on the course.
As previously stated, Browne was extremely fond of water-colour drawing, and executed some thousands during his life; not unfrequently a day's work would be represented by three or four of these productions. They were not caricatures, as one might suppose, but rural scenes à la Watteau, and allegorical subjects. This fact controverts the statement made in a daily paper, that "unfortunately, without a text to illustrate, 'Phiz' never had half-a-dozen ideas in his head" (!). For many years he was a constant contributor of pictures—figure subjects of a humorous and dramatic character—to the Exhibitions of the British Institution, and of the Society of British Artists. Among his more ambitious efforts was a cartoon of considerable dimensions, representing "A Foraging Party of Cæsar's Forces surprised by the Britons," which appeared as No. 65 at the Westminster Hall Exhibition of 1843. This, notwithstanding the "scratchy" manner of its execution, displayed remarkable skill and abundant energy of design. At the same gathering another cartoon was attributed to him, of which the energy bordered on caricature; it was named, "Henry II defied by a Welsh Mountaineer."
At one time "Phiz" received an extraordinary commission to reproduce in water-colour all his illustrations to the Novels of Dickens. The Artist reminded his patron of the magnitude of the undertaking, but the request was persisted in, and the work duly executed.
His love of bracing air induced him to pay frequent visits to the seaside; but on one occasion he lodged in a house not remarkable for its odoriferous nature; and, in order to produce a current of fresh air in his bed-room, he opened door and window, and slept in the draught caused thereby. For many years before his death, he suffered from incipient paralysis, the result, no doubt, of this incautious act, and to which may be attributed his disappearance from the art world some fifteen years ago.
"Phiz," notwithstanding his crippled condition, still worked hard with admirable perseverance, though his difficulties were increased by an injury to his thumb, which compelled him to hold his pencil between the middle and fore fingers. His friends endeavoured to persuade him to draw his pictures on a larger scale, in order that they might be photographed to the required dimensions, but, with one or two exceptions, he refused to act on this suggestion. He gradually lost that facility which characterized his work, and latterly yielded to proposals to illustrate boys' literature of a rather low class.
The time is past, no doubt, which encouraged the method of book-illustration adopted by "Phiz." It has given place to wood-engraving, and multifarious phototypic processes, that, perhaps, are commercially preferable, but from an artistic standpoint much inferior. We must, however, except the wonderful results some wood-engravers have produced from time to time, which etchers, even, cannot hope to excel.
Dr. Edgar Browne describes his father's indifference to the value of his work, or the time and labour bestowed upon it:—"He never understood the art of husbanding or developing his powers,—he never set to work to learn any technical process; when he had a little leisure from 'illustration' work, he used to start a picture 'to get his hand in'—generally taking some unimportant or trivial subject for this purpose. His facility of hand both in large and minute work was something marvellous. At one time, he produced a very remarkable series of sketches in chalk made during a tour in Ireland. They are scattered now, but are as fine as anything he did, and are certainly the best records of a people who have practically vanished. He was astonishingly careless about his work. Hundreds of original designs were thrown into the waste-paper basket; apart from their local interest similar sketches have found willing purchasers of late years."
Like many other artists whose pecuniary reward had not been commensurate with their ability,[G] he became the recipient of a pension. The kind instrumentality of a few Royal Academicians obtained for him an annual grant which had been previously enjoyed by the late George Cruikshank.
On the 8th of July, 1882, the death occurred of the famous "Phiz." At the quiet village of Hove, near Brighton, where the last few years of his life were spent, he succumbed in his sixty-seventh year to infirmity rather than old age. Almost forgotten as a man, his productions have remained in our memories, and will continue to do so as long as the works of Dickens and Lever are read and appreciated. His remains were interred at the extra-mural Cemetery, Brighton. The funeral was private, the only mourners present being the four sons of the deceased, Dr. Ambler, Mr. George Halse,[H] and Mr. Robert Harrison.
As admirers of his artistic ability we place this Memoir as a wreath upon his grave.
