About this date, Chantrey had the penetration to perceive and the fortune to secure in Allan Cunningham, the popular biographer of British artists, an assistant who united literary capacity and a fertile pen to the shrewdness and indefatigability usually supposed to appertain to the natives of North Britain. That Scottish adventurer, the son of a gardener to the person from whom Burns rented his farm, after having been apprenticed to a builder, composed a volume of songs, and came to push his fortune in London. He was now engaged by Chantrey, who had a sharp eye to his own interest, as clerk in his studio, and superintendent of his works.
At the conclusion of the war, Chantrey made a journey to Paris, which he had previously visited at the peace of Amiens, and inspected the various artistic works in the Louvre with much interest. From this point his progress in public esteem was steady and gratifying. On returning from the Continent he commenced the monument of the Two Sisters for Lichfield Cathedral; and when this exquisite specimen of his skillful fancy was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1817, it was regarded as marvelous for its grace, pathos, and beauty. The press to see it was unprecedented; mothers wept over the representation; children lovingly kissed the figures; and the effect it produced on the minds of beholders was deep, impressive, and enduring. Soon after he produced the statue of Lady Louisa Russell, daughter of the Duke of Bedford, fondling a dove in her bosom. She stands on tiptoe; and the attitude of the figure is said to be so singularly natural, that a little child of three years old coming into the sculptor’s studio held up its little hands to the figure, and addressed it under the impression that the form was a living one.
In 1818, Chantrey was worthily elected a member of the Royal Academy, and as his presentation work executed a bust of West, its venerable president. Becoming about the same time a member of the Royal Society, he presented a bust of the celebrated Sir Joseph Banks, then president. Next year he went to Italy, and while at Rome he had much friendly and familiar intercourse with Canova and Thorwaldsen. With the former he enacted the amicable ceremony of exchanging cloaks on parting.
In 1820, Chantrey’s admiration of Sir Walter Scott induced him to request the northern poet to sit for his bust. This being agreed to, it was finished in 1822, and presented to the illustrious bard six years later, on condition of his sitting for another, which was accordingly executed. It ultimately passed into the possession of Sir Robert Peel. These are by many considered not only the most felicitous of Chantrey’s busts, but the most striking portraits of the great Borderer’s variable countenance. The original has been viewed by multitudes at Abbotsford, always with the highest admiration by those most qualified to judge of its merits. The ample forehead, so full of thought and sagacity; the penetrating eye, which had looked with rapture on many a frowning fortress and fair landscape, and the mouth, grave but humorous, are portrayed with rare and fascinating skill. The whole face is represented with fine effect, and has altogether the expression likely to be produced when Chantrey was chiseling, and laughing merrily at some happy remark which had just escaped from the “Great Unknown.”
The few years following that on which this memorable sitting occurred, were the busiest of the eminent sculptor’s life. Between 1823 and 1826 he is stated to have received the largest number of commissions, and to have labored in their execution with intense devotion and exemplary industry. Nor was he without another kind of encouragement, which, whatever may be said to the contrary by the very persons who would most loudly rejoice in having it, has always proved strangely fascinating to the imaginations of men of talent. Royal and patrician favor was freely bestowed upon him throughout his career; and he knew how to use without abusing it. He enjoyed the countenance of successive sovereigns, was distinguished by the honor of knighthood, and had the comfort of believing that George the Fourth, who, with all his faults, understood something of such matters, appreciated his artistic genius. When this statue was erected on the grand staircase of Windsor Castle, his Majesty, patting Chantrey familiarly on the back, said, “I have reason to be obliged to you; for you have immortalized me.”
Among the numerous and admirable statues which attest Chantrey’s power and success in this branch of his art, a few may be mentioned: as that of William Pitt, in Hanover Square; George the Fourth, in Trafalgar Square; James Watt, in Westminster Abbey; and the Duke of Wellington, in front of the Royal Exchange. Watt’s statue at Glasgow, Roscoe’s at Liverpool, and that of Canning in the hall of the latter town, have, as draped figures, rarely been surpassed. Dalton’s statue at Manchester, exhibited in 1837, is likewise thought to be of great merit; and one of his early, though great, monumental efforts was that of Perceval, in All Saints’ Church, Northampton. But there are seen, elsewhere than in his own country, monuments from his hand to commemorate the deeds, the virtues, and achievements of the departed great. He furnished an equestrian statue of Sir Thomas Munro to adorn Madras; and for the State-house of Boston he executed a statue of Washington, which is ever mentioned with praise and honor. The hero of the War of Independence stands erect, and wrapped up in thought. The costume, which the sculptor knew well how to deal with, is a military cloak, which displays the historical figure to advantage; and the effect is altogether good and imposing.
Chantrey’s genius was most prolific and successful in busts. It is stated, that such was his art, that he could generally seize on the likeness of a head in an hour; but, both in his conceptions and in working them out, he was particularly fastidious. He was singularly quick and skillful in seizing the very best expressions which the countenances of his sitters were capable of presenting.
In 1839 a perceptible and melancholy change came over the famous sculptor; and at length, on the 25th of November, 1841, he expired. He left a large fortune, the result of his industry; and munificently destined it to the service and promotion of the fine arts in his native land. With a view to its responsible application to the intended purpose, he constituted the President and Council of the Royal Academy his trustees forever.
In his works, Chantrey trusted entirely to form and effect; and his dislike to ornament appears to have been almost excessive. His successful efforts were the result of deep reflection, a fine taste, and a noble imagination. He strove to exhibit the perfections of nature, and to impart an air of grandeur to all his productions. He commenced art where Art itself began. Nature was, from first to last, his chief study, the safe school in which he learned his art, and the exhaustless fountain from which he drew the inspiration that carried him onward to lasting fame as a truly English and really great sculptor. He thought that an artist should daily ponder what to avoid, as well as what to imitate; and unlike his predecessors, who were perpetually striving to rival the productions of by-gone ages, he wisely aspired rather to guide the future than follow the past. He had imbibed in youth a fondness for landscape scenery, which he could represent with success; and he made many interesting drawings when traveling to view the marbles and pictures in Italy.