Sir Edwin Landseer

by Frederic George Stephens

But by far the most amazing instance of the technical powers of our subject is that which is in itself, without regard to Landseer, a subject of extraordinary interest to physiologists, and inquirers into the nature of the action of the brain and the distribution of nerve power. Our informant is Mr. Solomon Hart, a Royal Academician remarkable for his accomplishment and acute observation. A large party was assembled one evening at the house of a gentleman in the upper ranks of London “society,” crowds of ladies and gentlemen of distinction were present, including Landseer, who was, as usual, a lion; a large group gathered about the sofa where he was lounging; the subject turned on dexterity and facility in feats of skill with the hand. No doubt the talk was ingeniously led in this direction by some who knew that Sir Edwin could do wonders of dexterous draughtsmanship, and were not unwilling to see him draw, but they did not expect what followed. A lady, lolling back on a settee, and rather tired of the subject, as ladies are apt to become when conversation does not appeal to their feelings or their interests, exclaimed, after many instances of manual dexterity had been cited, “Well, there’s one thing nobody has ever done, and that is draw two things at once.” She had signalized herself by quashing a subject of conversation, and was about to return to her most becoming attitude, when Landseer said, “Oh, I can do that; lend me two pencils, and I will show you.” The pencils were got, a piece of paper was laid on the table, and Sir Edwin, a pencil in each hand, drew simultaneously, and without hesitation, with the one hand the profile of a stag’s head and all its antlers complete, and with the other hand, the perfect profile of a horse’s head. Both drawings were full of energy and spirit, and although, as the occasion compelled, not finished, they were, together and individually, quite as good as the master was accustomed to produce with his right hand alone; the drawing by the left hand was not inferior to that by the right.

This showed that the artist’s brain was acting in two directions at once, controlling two distinct limbs in similar but diverse operations, for it was observed by our informant that the acts of draughtsmanship were strictly simultaneous and not alternate. Had the latter been the case the feat would have been of deft draughtsmanship, about which no one would have questioned the ability of Landseer. This feat far surpasses that of chess-players who continue six games at chess at one sitting, without seeing any board. Feats like that of the chess-players, however wonderful, differ in kind from the unparalleled one we have described. These are efforts of astoundingly powerful memories and acts of the clearest mental vision combined with that faculty with which chess-players seem to be specially endowed, possession of which, however, by no means proves superior mental ability. Landseer’s feat was another sort, and proved him capable of “doing two things at once,” things which singly were, no doubt, easy of accomplishment by an artist of his faculties, but when simultaneously performed in duplicate were such as have not hitherto been recorded. Mrs. Mackenzie has enabled us to confirm this account of her brother’s feats in draughtsmanship.

“The Stone-breaker’s Daughter,” a picture of the year 1830, engraved by J. Burnet, shows a group by a Highland roadside; an old man, with a plaid over his head, squats on the ground, hammer in hand, snuff-mull by his side; his pretty daughter, of twelve years or thereabouts, has brought the old fellow’s dinner in a basket; a dog licks her hand affectionately, as the damsel loiters to gossip with her father. This is an agreeable picture, but possesses no particular interest of sentiment or technical value.

Cow and Calf.

Chal. G. L. 1847.

“Waiting for the Deer to rise,” 1831, otherwise “Poachers Deer-stalking,” represents three Highlanders crouching near the summit of a hill, one of whom holds a dog round the neck to restrain him, while another, with a gun in one hand and a branch in the other, looks for the coming of the game. It was painted for Mr. E. Holden, of Aston Hall, Derbyshire, and some years afterwards sold for 819l. It measures two feet three inches by one foot eight inches and a half.

“Hawking,” 1832, shows a lady mounted on a white horse, with attendants riding and on foot, with dogs and hawks; the group is on the border of a lake; a falconer in the mid-distance flies a hawk at a soaring heron on our left; a bare-headed page stands at the head of the lady’s palfrey, holding its bridle. “Waiting for the Countess,” a portrait of a dog belonging to Lady Blessington, engraved by Wass, was painted in this year.