Footprints of Famous Men: Designed as Incitements to Intellectual Industry

by John G. Edgar

The intention of Chantrey’s guardians and his apparent destination were changed by an accident, which, though seemingly trifling in itself, was of the utmost importance in his career. He was passing along the street, and staring about with all the wonder of a youthful peasant, when suddenly some figures in the window of a shop arrested his eye, and filled his heart with [an irrepressible longing to be a carver of wood]. This wish he repeated with so much ardor and earnestness, that his friends saw reason to accede to a desire, which was evidently the result of no mere ephemeral sentiment. They had, of course, as little idea of sculpture as they had of the moon, or the north pole, or the Chinese empire. A picture, indeed, they could have admired. A lady shining on the painter’s canvas, in all the pride of gems and rich attire, would have raised their wonder: but the severity of marble catches not the popular fancy; and had the boy’s tendency been explained, they would still have been in the dark as to what he would be at. Luckily, common sense taught them that it would be downright stupidity to place at the dreary desk a lad whose heart was set upon a very different occupation from that of copying deeds. They, therefore, consented to his being apprenticed to a wood-carver in the town; and he entered on that course which led him on, from small beginnings, to affluence and celebrity. It happened that at his new master’s house he had the good fortune to make the acquaintance of a distinguished draughtsman in crayon, and immediately exhibited a lively interest in that individual’s occupations. He took infinite pleasure in seeing him paint, and was careful to make himself as useful and agreeable as was in his power. In this way he soon felt ambitious of following art as a profession, in some higher field than that to which his labors were then confined. He had already made all the progress in carving which, under the circumstances, could be achieved by skill, perseverance, and enthusiasm. During the intervals of business he did not waste or dissipate an hour of his precious time, but was constantly at study; and even at the midnight hour he might have been found in his lodgings, with a light burning, engaged with groups and figures, and working with the utmost spirit and the rarest diligence.

This system did not exactly quadrate with the views of his employer, who, naturally enough, wished his pupil to be a workman and not an artist. Moreover, Chantrey, finding his tastes in this respect perpetually thwarted, and his desire becoming uncontrollable, grew much too enthusiastic in his aspirations to be longer limited or restrained by ordinary circumstances. Therefore, though only six months of his term of servitude remained unexpired, with the impatience of genius he gave his master all the wealth he possessed to cancel the indentures, gained a little money by taking portraits, repaired to London, and, thus thrown into the mighty vortex, determined to triumph. But with the hereditary caution and common sense, which were finely exhibited by him throughout life, he made “the hardest circumstance a helper and a slave,” and at first sought employment as assistant to a wood-carver, that he might live by the craft he had resolved to leave, while pursuing those studies that were so nobly rewarded, rather than make any premature attempt to win that fame which he instinctively felt must one day be his in no small measure.

He reached the metropolis in his twenty-second year, and shortly after his arrival was induced to pay a visit to Ireland, with the intention of making a tour through that country; but while in Dublin he suffered so severely from a fever, that his life was for some time despaired of. Fortunately, he was restored to health, and returned to London, having during the illness lost his hair, which he never recovered. His appearance was fine and prepossessing; his mouth was beautifully formed; and he was complimented on bearing a remarkable resemblance to the greatest of English dramatists. In disposition he was frank, fearless, and communicative; and his affability and familiarity in company were acknowledged: but, at the same time, he was a man of the world, and would never, for a momentary triumph, commit himself by a conversational indiscretion.

On returning from the “Green Isle,” and having about the same period made an excursion to the Continent, he devoted himself with zeal, anxiety, and earnestness, to his professional studies and pursuits. He still continued the occupation of a certain portion of his time as a carver, and executed several figures in wood, which are still in existence as interesting memorials of the great sculptor’s earlier career. Doubtless he had his struggles, and did not forget them when better times came. On the contrary, he was ever prompt to encourage rising artists; he excused their shortcomings, and recommended their works; and when unable otherwise to serve them, though not in any respect negligent of his pecuniary concerns, he was not slow to use his purse for that purpose. Neglecting no means which might aid him in ascending the steep and slippery pathways of fame, he turned his attention to portrait-painting, and obtained some notice on account of the success of his efforts. But, like Pope, he found an insuperable barrier to excellence in the defectiveness of his sight.

Meantime he had continued his exertions and improved his powers in that department of art with which his name is now associated, by modeling the human form in clay, and arraying it with pieces of drapery, studying attentively the best and most picturesque attitudes in which it could be represented. One of his first works was a bust of Mr. Raphael Smith the artist, whose paintings had exercised so much influence on his early career; but it was that of the celebrated Horne Took which gained him fame in the metropolis. Then appeared his colossal head of Satan, which, by its gaze of dark and malignant despair, attracted notice; and the artist had reason to look to the future with hope.

When Flaxman ventured on marrying a very accomplished woman, Sir Joshua Reynolds shook his head at the perpetration of such a piece of eccentricity, and frankly told the struggling sculptor that he had thereby ruined himself for life. The spirit of prophecy did not, however, rest on Leicester Square, for to the inspiration of his wife Flaxman attributed his subsequent successes. Example is more powerful than precept; and Chantrey profiting, perhaps, by that so spiritedly set by his more classical contemporary, resolved on taking a similar step.

In 1811 he married his cousin, who brought him so considerable a fortune, that he was enabled to pursue the success he had achieved with a feeling of greater security; and he was soon intrusted by the city of London to execute the statue of George the Third, to be placed in the council-chamber at Guildhall, as well as with many private commissions, which added to his reputation.

He now undertook a professional tour in Scotland, and executed, besides other works, statues of the famous Lord Melville and Lord President Blair, as also an admirable bust of Professor Playfair, for Edinburgh; and on returning, he was commissioned by Government to execute some monuments for St. Paul’s Cathedral.