Signed on left:—“ed. manet, 1865.”
Painted in oil on canvas.
4 ft. 2 in. × 6 ft. 3 in. (1·27 × 1·90.)
THE BRITISH SCHOOL
IF the representation of French art at the National Gallery in London is admittedly meagre and inadequate, the British section at the Louvre can scarcely be considered worthy of serious consideration. Its entire removal, with the exception of about half a dozen pictures, would not only entail no serious loss to the collection, but would be an act of justice to the reputation of several great artists who are here made responsible for pictures upon which they presumably never set eyes. Under these circumstances it is quite impossible to illustrate the progress of British art by the two-score or so examples in the Long Gallery, part of which is devoted to the English pictures. Of the leading masters, Hogarth (1697–1764) and Gainsborough (1727–1788) will be vainly looked for, since the two Landscapes (Nos. 1811 and 1811b) attributed to the latter in the La Caze Room are inferior conventional compositions in Italian taste, which can no more be connected with the name of Gainsborough than the wretched Still Life which has lately been added to the Louvre collection.
CONSTABLE AND HIS IMITATORS
In view of the powerful influence exercised by Constable and the British Landscape school in general upon modern French art, it is surprising that no attempts should have been made to secure a few examples of greater importance and more certain authenticity than the ones now exhibited. Six pictures are catalogued under the name of John Constable (1776–1837); the only one that can be unreservedly accepted as the work of his brush is the little view of Hampstead Heath (No. 1809, [Plate LIV.]), which was presented to the Louvre in 1877 by the painter’s son, Mr. Lionel Constable. It is a fresh, masterly study for the picture in the Sheepshanks collection at the Victoria and Albert Museum.
The Weymouth Bay (No. 1808), which realised as much as £2240 at the Marquis de la Rochebrune’s sale in 1873, has been enthusiastically commented upon by Bürger, but cannot pass the ordeal of searching criticism. It is incoherent, and in the details of the foreground and the painting of the figures and sheep lacks the purposeful sureness of touch which is the hall-mark of Constable’s art. The Cottage (No. 1806) has the same provenance. Mr. P. M. Turner, in an article in the Burlington Magazine, suggests that F. W. Watts, a feeble imitator of Constable, is the real author of this timidly executed painting—an attribution which is certainly more convincing than the one in the official catalogue. The Glebe Farm (No. 1810) tallies closely, as regards the superficial aspect, with the picture of the same title at the National Gallery, to which it is, however, so inferior as to put Constable’s authorship out of the question. The Windmill (No. 1810a), a gift of Mr. Sedelmeyer, seems to be a copy of the Spring at the Victoria and Albert Museum. The Rainbow (No. 1807) may possibly be by Constable, although its authorship has been questioned by several reliable authorities.
James Webb (1825?–1895), a painter of undeniable talent for imitating the manner of artists greater than himself, is beyond much doubt responsible both for the Landscape (No. 1820), which is officially given to Richard Wilson (1714–1782), and for the view of the Pont Neuf (No. 1819), which is still exhibited as an example by the greatest English landscape painter J. M. W. Turner (1775–1851). Unfortunately Turner’s name has to be added to Hogarth’s and Gainsborough’s in the list of eminent British masters who are not represented at the Louvre.