The “Doings in London” owe whatever value they possess to the thirty-nine curious designs on wood of Isaac Robert Cruikshank, engraved by W. C. Bonner, which, on the whole fair examples of his workmanship in this style, strongly remind us of the smaller woodcuts in Hone’s “Every-Day Book.”
The best specimens, however, of Robert’s designs on wood are those which will be found in two small volumes, known indifferently as “Facetiæ” and “Cruikshank’s Comic Album,” which contain a series of jeux d’esprits, published between the years 1830 and 1832, and comprising Old Bootey’s Ghost and The Man of Intellect, by W. F. Moncrieff; The High-mettled Racer and Monsieur Nongtongpaw, by Charles Dibdin; Margate and Brighton; The Devil’s Visit; Steamers and Stages; Monsieur Touson; Monsieur Mallet, by H. W. Montague; Mathew’s Comic Annual (a miserable mélange by our friend Pierce Egan); the famous Devil’s Walk, by Coleridge and Southey, etc., etc. These little volumes, which are now rare, contain nearly one hundred excellent examples of Robert Cruikshank’s workmanship, the woodcuts being executed after the artist’s designs by W. C. Bonner and other wood engravers of eminence. We can stay only to describe one, which illustrates one of the many experiences of John Bull in his memorable visit to France. Struck with the appearance of a French lady, “young and gay,” the stanza tells us—
| “Struck by her charms he ask’d her name Of the first man he saw; From whom, with shrugs, no answer came But, ‘Je vous n’entends pas.’” |
Three other books (two of them exceedingly rare) must suffice to complete our survey of Robert’s merits as a designer and book illustrator. These are “Colburn’s Kalendar of Amusements” (1840), “Job Crithannah’s Original Fables” (1834), and Eugene Sue’s “Orphan.” There is an Irishman sitting on a barrel in one of the woodcuts to the “Kalendar,” who quite equals any of the Hibernians of George. The eighty-four designs to the “Fables” are admirable specimens of the artist’s best manner, and George himself rarely executed better illustrations than those of the Farmer and the Pointer, at page 110, The Cow and the Farmer, at page 163, and The Old Woman and her Cat, at page 219. This rare and choice book abounds with admirable tailpieces; one of which exhibits a sufferer down in the agonies of gout, the treatment of which subject may even be compared with the more elaborate and admirable design by the brother described by Thackeray. Sue’s “Orphan” has numerous carefully executed etchings by the artist, after the style and manner of his brother; in the very signature, “Robert Cruikshank,” we trace a distinct copy of George’s peculiar trademark or sign-manual. Mr. Walter Hamilton, in his essay on the brother, presents us with a dozen copies of Robert’s designs, eight of which, although unacknowledged, are taken from Crithannah’s “Fables,” and will bear as much comparison with the original and beautiful woodcuts as the work of a common sign-painter with a finished painting by Landseer. A detailed but probably imperfect list of the artist’s book work will be found in the appendix.
The name of Robert Cruikshank has slipped out of the place it once occupied in public estimation; and his good work and his poor work being equally scarce, his name and his claims to rank high among the number of English caricaturists and comic artists have been forgotten even by the survivors of the generation to which he himself belonged. In bringing to the remembrance of those who do know, and to the knowledge of those who do not know, some of the work which entitled him in our judgment to occupy a leading place amongst the number of those of whom we write, we have endeavoured to brush away the dust of oblivion which for so many years has obscured the name and reputation of an artist, who, in spite of much slovenliness and carelessness of execution, was both an able caricaturist and a skilful draughtsman. George writes of his dead brother in terms of affection, and describes him as “a very clever miniature and portrait painter, and also a designer and etcher;” his friend and coadjutor, the late George Daniel, gives him credit for genius, of which however (in the sense in which we use and understand the word) he did not possess a particle. He tells us that “he was apt to conceive and prompt to execute; he had a quick eye and a ready hand; with all his extravagant drollery, his drawing is anatomically correct; his details are minute, expressive, and of careful finish, and his colouring is bright and delicate.” In the early part of his career, as we have seen, the two brothers had been so closely associated in life and in art, that the history of Robert is, to some extent, the history of George; but when they separated, when each was left to his own individual resources, George then struck into a path which neither Robert nor any of his contemporaries might hope to follow. By the time Robert had realized this fact, HB had appeared, and the art of caricaturing, as theretofore practised, received a blow from which it will never rally. Besides being an able water colour artist, he had at one time achieved some reputation as a portrait painter; but the latter pursuit he had long practically abandoned, while success in the former required a closer application and the exercise of a greater amount of patience than a man of his age and temperament could afford to bestow. He was, in fact, too old to commence life afresh; and so it came inevitably to pass that, as his brother did in after life (but from causes, as we shall see, widely different), Robert gradually dropped behind and was forgotten. He had not the genius or pride in his art of his brother, and looked rather to that art as a means of present livelihood than of acquiring a permanent and enduring reputation. If George—with all his pride in his art, with all his genius, with all his rare gifts of imagination and fancy—was destined to be left behind in the race of life, what could poor Robert hope for? It is sad to think that in later life, poor easy-going, thriftless, careless, Bohemian Robert sank into neglect and consequent poverty. He died (of bronchitis) on the 13th of March, 1856, in his sixty-sixth year.
[57] In this I cannot agree. George designed about a third of the plates, and those who know his workmanship thoroughly will not fail to identify it.
[58] A fact which testifies to the curiosity and not the immorality of our people.
[59] I have known as much as £10 asked for a copy; but a first edition (a rarity) may be purchased sometimes of a respectable bookseller for £8.
[60] “Fair Play! Robt. Cruikshank, invt. et fect., original suggestor and artist of the 2 vols. Adieu!”