The triumph of the Innocents

by William Holman Hunt

“For all human loss and pain, there is no comfort, no interpretation worth a thought, except only in the doctrine of the Resurrection; of which doctrine, remember, it is an immutable historical fact that all the beautiful work, and all the happy existence of mankind, hitherto, has depended on, or consisted in, the hope of it.

“The picture of which I came to-day chiefly to speak, as a symbol of that doctrine, was incomplete when I saw it, and is so still; but enough was done to constitute it the most important work of Hunt’s life, as yet; and if health is granted to him for its completion, it will, both in reality and in esteem, be the greatest religious painting of our time.

“You know that in the most beautiful former conceptions of the Flight into Egypt, the Holy Family were always represented as watched over, and ministered to, by attendant angels. But only the safety and peace of the Divine Child and its mother are thought of. No sadness or wonder of meditation returns to the desolate homes of Bethlehem.

“But in this English picture all the story of the escape, as of the flight, is told, in fulness of peace, and yet of compassion. The travel is in the dead of the night, the way unseen and unknown;—but, partly stooping from the starlight, and partly floating on the desert mirage, move, with the Holy Family, the glorified souls of the Innocents. Clear in celestial light, and gathered into child-garlands of gladness, they look to the Child in whom they live, and yet, for them to die. Waters of the River of Life flow before on the sands: the Christ stretches out His arms to the nearest of them;—leaning from His mother’s breast.

“To how many bereaved households may not this happy vision of conquered death bring in the future, days of peace.

“I do not care to speak of other virtues in this design than those of its majestic thought,—but you may well imagine for yourselves how the painter’s quite separate and, in its skill, better than magical, power of giving effects of intense light, has aided the effort of his imagination, while the passion of his subject has developed in him a swift grace of invention which for my own part I never recognised in his design till now. I can say with deliberation that none even of the most animated groups and processions of children which constitute the loveliest sculpture of the Robbias and Donatello, can more than rival the freedom and felicity of motion, or the subtlety of harmonious line, in the happy wreath of these angel-children.

“Of this picture I came to-day chiefly to speak, nor will I disturb the poor impression which my words can give you of it by any immediate reference to other pictures by our leading masters.”

A brief explanation of the history of the production of this picture is called for both as an apology for the long interval since last I exhibited a large picture, and also of the fact that the painting now shown is a repetition of my first attempt to illustrate this imaginative episode in “The Flight into Egypt,” which before long, will also be exhibited, cured of its defect. I may be allowed, perhaps, to state that first in the year 1854, I acted upon a resolution formed earlier to go to Palestine. This was to revivify on canvas, if it were possible to me, the facts of Scripture History, by study not made in sketches to be incorporated in subject pictures afterwards in England. My aim was rather to advance nearer to the truth than had yet been done, by patiently working out a whole picture, surrounded by the very people and the circumstances of the life in Judea of old days. To strive—while not forgetting the vital ambition of an artist, which is to serve as high priest and expounder of the excellence of the works of the Creator—choosing the highest types and combinations of His handiworks, as the Greeks taught the after-world to do, so that men’s admiration may be fascinated by the perfections of the works of the Great Author of all, and men’s life thus may be a continual joy and solace, and at the same time to embody the events by which God in His providence led the foremost of the people Israel to be prepared to act as teachers and prophets to the whole Gentile world. I did not—let me say—wish to condemn any artistic manly treatment of similar subjects by others. My idea suggested the experiment to me as worth making for myself. The attempt was beset with difficulties beyond expectation, and being away for long, put me at many disadvantages in my profession, but I have many reasons for rejoicing at the course taken, and I have now to gratefully acknowledge the recognition of the public who, from the time of the exhibition of the first result of my Eastern labours—“The Scapegoat,” have ever given exceptional attention to my paintings, produced only, I regret to say, at long intervals, owing to circumstances external to the limits of this statement.

In 1875 I returned to Jerusalem after an absence of two years. I had taken the care usual with experienced travellers to have all my luggage studiously packed and directed before leaving England. It was, however, an omission of mine, which seemed a trivial one at the time, not to see them delivered into the hands of the agent for the carriers to Jaffa. On my arrival in Syria the cases containing all my precious materials for my work had not arrived. Every effort possible was made to obtain information of my missing boxes, and I delayed for months to commence my picture. The excitement during this period, fanned by fanatical Moslems, grew very fierce. The miseries caused by the conscription for the Russian war, and still more those caused by the rapacity of governors who found the opportunity a good one for increasing their dishonest exactions, drove the poor fellaheen well nigh mad with ferocity, and it was easy then, as it was in Alexandria, and as it will ever be under similar circumstances, to make the poor people believe that all such miseries are sent by Heaven as a curse on them for not extirpating the enemies of Islamism. We lived always in doubt as to what a day might bring forth. Had the people been less dangerous I would have left my family for two weeks or so, and purchased canvas in Naples or Rome. As it was I dared not leave them. When first the uncertainty about my materials seemed serious and altogether inscrutable, I felt forced to purchase the best piece of linen to be found in Jerusalem. This I prepared with the tempera ground, which before had proved to be perfect. When this was ready, however, I still lingered over my preliminary work, in hope that the proper canvas would arrive; but months further went by mocking my hopes, and eventually I had to undertake my deferred labours upon the sheeting which the fortune of the day had compelled me to choose.