In historical, or what may be called incident pictures, the main object of the artist ought to be to tell his story forcibly, clearly, and pathetically.
We have seen that in work partaking of a decorative character the principal object of the designer should be to group his figures in a noble and picturesque manner, to attend to his drawing, and if possible to add the charm of agreeable color to his work.
In realistic historical painting he has something else to occupy his thoughts. He must by no means neglect the lines of his groups, he must avoid disagreeable angles, equidistant heads, convergent lines where they are not wanted, and all the other rocks and shoals on which many a composition has been wrecked, but in addition to this he must tell his story truthfully and clearly.
Much more latitude in the matter of arrangement may be allowed him than would be conceded to the painter of decorative subjects.
He may (if he thinks fit) huddle up all his figures into a corner of the canvas, or he may place them all in the centre, leaving the sides unoccupied.
In short, he may take great liberties with the laws of composition, provided always these liberties tend to assist in giving reality to the scene.
The more picturesque or melodramatic the subject, the more he may depart from the usual rules of composition.
Paul Delaroche was, I think, the first of the numerous cohort of modern painters who have striven to combine truthful sentiment with pictorial fitness, and of all his works the “Assassination of the Duc de Guise” is perhaps the most striking.
The arrangement of this picture is as dramatic as it is truthful. On one side of the picture we have the murdered duke lying on his back, stone dead. The group of assassins are quite separated from their victim, and are giving themselves no further trouble about him; and yet the greatest ignoramus, who knew nothing whatever about the story, would have no hesitation in divining it, so graphically is the incident told.
Again, if we recall to mind another and a better known picture by the same master, I mean that known as “Les Enfants d’Edouard,” we find the same subtle taste displayed.