* “The Triumph of Bacchus” was taken afterwards through the
provinces; and although the provincials in many places gave
it a heartier welcome than it had obtained in London, the
upshot of the speculation was that the expenses of
exhibition were barely covered.
And yet Cruikshank, although burdened with the pecuniary liability which he had incurred, and which had continuously increased while the exhibition was in progress, set himself down with heroic fortitude to complete the etching. “Following the big picture painfully, wearily,” one of the committee writes, “the etching was at last completed; but the long delay had damped the ardour of subscribers. The engraving is a noble work, unique as a steel etching in its great size and multiplicity of figures. Each one is complete; nothing is scamped. Its power as a teacher has yet to be fully felt.”
Yet etching and picture brought only heart-aches to the artist. Both were got through under the pressure of grave money complications. Now the water-colour drawing had to be made over to Mr. Samuel Gurney, as an equivalent for the £400 which he had contributed towards the “spending money” fund; now the collection was pledged to another friend; now the artist found himself deeper in the books of Mr. W. Tweedie, his publisher; and now the plate and engravings were made over to the “spending money” committee, to recoup them for their advances. There were bickerings—nay, there were absolute quarrels, in the course of these entanglements; for Cruikshank was an unmanageable business man, and prone, as we have seen, to fall out even with his most devoted friends. Still there was so much that was good and lovable in him, that they bore with his foibles and his outbursts, and remained willing to help the brave old man again. His admirer, Mr. Raskin, and his secretary or representative, Mr. Howell, with others, got up a testimonial which cast something approaching a thousand pounds into Cruikshank’s lap, and at the same time they offered him five guineas apiece for such little thumb-nail water-colour drawings of fairies as he could throw off at least by the half-dozen in the week. But Cruikshank was fevered with mighty ideas, harassed by complicated monetary transactions, and at the same time elated by dreams of a great national transaction which was to put him clear of the world, and at ease in a serene light of steady popularity. An art union of his works was talked about; but it fell through. But no good end could be served by a minute account of the projects and counterprojects which arose around the “Triumph of Bacchus.”
The painting and the etching consumed nearly three busy years of the artist’s life; and his pecuniary reward was exactly £2,053 7s. 6d. as Mr. Tweedie’s ledger shows.
Of the art merits of this great cartoon the critics have pronounced many clashing opinions. “I think, on the whole,” Mr. Sala says, “looking at the amount of sheer labour in the picture, the well-nigh incredible multiplicity of figures, and the extreme care with which the minutest details have been delineated by a hand following the eye of a man past threescore years and ten, the ‘Triumph of Bacchus’ must be regarded as a phenomenon. Its pictorial merit is slight; but it possesses and commands interest of a very different nature from that excited by a mere picture, when we remember the painter’s purpose, and the tremendous moral lesson he sought to teach. It is an eloquent protest against the drinking customs of society, and a no less eloquent—and terribly ghastly—exposition of the evils wrought on that same society by the vice of drunkenness.”
If for no other reason than to do honour to George Cruikshank, it is well that this monument of work by an earnest old man has found its way to South Kensington, having been presented to the nation by a committee of subscribers, one of whom contributed a cheque for £800. Here, according to many Temperance authorities, it has ir made converts. A member of the Cruikshank committee writes: “An actor one day stood before the painting at South Kensington, gazing at it, and taking in its sad history, till, bursting into tears, he left the museum, took a cab direct for Mr. Cruikshank’s house, and signed the pledge for three years. Dr. Richardson told the other day of a clergyman who was pulled up by the vestry scene. Though the public did not patronise the exhibition, yet the warmest commendations of the picture have come from non-abstainers, and for this cause I suspect that the argument of the picture was to them a new idea never before fully considered.”
Mr. John Stewart’s estimate of his friend’s work is technically the most satisfactory verdict which has been written. “As a whole the ‘Bacchus’ is easily described, although ‘none but itself can be its parallel.’ It is the province of genius to make rules where there are none, but as truth is a consistent whole, true genius bends the rule it makes into harmony with those already in existence; and in nothing has the artist been more successful than in combining his novel creation with the recognised canons of art. This was a daring effort; and, however hyper-criticism might carp or ignorance may sneer at details, nothing but the feeling of a poet, which enables him to compose with a poet’s facility, could have sustained the effort so successfully. The general composition contains all the elemental types of pictorial grouping, generalised on the two axioms of balance and variety. So fully has the artist carried out this subtle truth of art—because an essential truth of nature—that it would not be difficult to point out every principle Haydon could extract from the combined works of Raphael successfully modified by Cruikshank to build up and support this picture. The horizontal is represented by the groups in the immediate foreground; the pyramidal by the Bacchus, Silenus, and Bacchante; the circular by the publicans, and repeated by the widows and orphan children; the perpendicular by the saloons of high life introduced on either side: and these are repeated out and still out, till the art which produced them is lost in the higher art necessary to hide the method of production.
“What is true of the picture as a whole is still more visible in the individual groups. These, however, must be seen to be appreciated, for they cannot be described in words, not even by George Cruikshank. But this may be affirmed without hesitation, that no other artist in Britain or in Europe could have produced the same variety of incident, action, and expression—that is, the same amount and quality of thought, in the same period of time—as Cruikshank has displayed in this ‘Triumph of Bacchus.’ The number that could have done it at all is easily counted, and they—artists like Frith—knowing most fully the difficulties, are most enthusiastic in their admiration of the genius and devotion by which Cruikshank has worked and conquered. True, the work wants finish, but this want is most felt by those ignorant enough to confound smoothness and prettiness with finish; but a lifetime would be too short to finish such pictures up to their standard, and they should understand that the artist never intended to finish after their fashion. His objects were entirely different: first, to produce his thoughts in a style that could be seen by an audience at a distance; and second, using the work in oil as a basis and a guide for the etching and engraving the more permanent work which is now in preparation. In the first the success is greater than the greatest smoothness could have given, and it would be as reasonable to blame Rembrandt for not finishing those studies in oil he painted to etch from, as to blame Cruikshank for following Rembrandt’s example. With this ‘Triumph of Bacchus,’ as with Yan Ryan’s ‘Hundred Guilders,’ the etching—the print—is the true completion of the work; while the picture is only a portion of the preparatory means to the nobler and more enduring end and aim. It is different with artists whose works, if engraved, must be translated from paintings into prints by others—often by those with little sympathy for the subject or the style in which it has been treated by the painter. Such pictures, however highly finished, lose much that is valuable in process of translation. With etchers like Rembrandt or Cruikshank, however diverse their styles, they have this in common, that their prints are more perfect than the pictures from which they are produced, because the artist is perfecting his idea while elaborating his plate. The shrewd old Dutch burgomasters, alive to this fact, secured Rembrandt’s most matured works by subscribing for impressions of his plates, and the wisest admirers of Cruikshank’s genius are following the same course, not doubting that his finished etching of this great work will be the most finished embodiment of his grand idea.”