John Leech, His Life and Work Volume I Part 2

"Your affectionate son "J LEECH."

"MY DEAR PAPA.

"You desired me to send you my report I have not had it since the last one. I went into be examined by Dr Russell yesterday but I did not get promoted but I did not lose more than one or two places. I will send you my next report. I hope you are quite well.

"Mamma and Brother and sisters the Same

"Your affectionate "Son "J LEECH.

"I would have written to you sooner but _I had not time_."

Leech made no way at the Charterhouse; never approaching the position held by Thackeray, who was four years his senior: indeed, I doubt that they saw, or cared to see, much of each other, little dreaming that they would ultimately become dear and fast friends till death separated them, only to meet again, as we believe, after the sad, short interval that elapsed between the deaths of each.

I cannot say I believe in inherited talent, but the fact that the elder Leech was said to be a remarkable draughtsman seems to strengthen the theory held by some people. I have never seen any specimens of the father's drawing, nor did I ever hear the son speak of it. Anyway, Leech _pere_ had no faith in the practice of art as a means of livelihood for his son, for he informed the youth, after a nine years' attendance at the Charterhouse, that he was destined for the medical profession. There is no record of any objection on the part of Leech to his father's decision, at which I feel surprise; for the flame which burnt so brilliantly in after-life must have been always well alight, and very antagonistic to the kind of work required from the embryo surgeon.

Leech's gentle yielding nature influenced him then as always; and he went to St. Bartholomew's, where under Mr. Stanley, the surgeon of the hospital, he worked hard and delighted his master by his excellent anatomical drawings. From these studies may be traced, I think, much of the knowledge of the human form, and above all of _proportion_, always displayed in his work; for in those wonderful drawings, whether a figure is tall or short, fat or thin, whether he deals with a child or a giant, with a dog or a horse, no disproportion can be found.

It appears that the elder Leech's affairs were already in such an embarra.s.sed condition, that an intention to place his son with Sir George Ballingall, an eminent Scottish doctor, was abandoned, and after a time he was placed with a Mr. Whittle, a very remarkable person, who figures under the name of Rawkins in a novel written by Albert Smith and ill.u.s.trated by Leech. Smith's work, with the t.i.tle of "The Adventures of Mr. Ledbury and his Friend Jack Johnson," was first published in _Bentley's Miscellany_.

"Mr. Rawkins," says Albert Smith, "was so extraordinary a person for a medical pract.i.tioner that, had we only read of him instead of having known him, we should at once have put him down as the far-fetched creation of the author's brain. He was about eight-and-thirty years old, and of herculean build except his legs, which were small in comparison with the rest of his body. But he thought that he was modelled after the statues of antiquity, and, indeed, in respect of his nose, which was broken, he was not far wrong in his idea--that feature having been damaged in some hospital skirmish when he was a student. His face was adorned with a luxuriant fringe of black whiskers, meeting under his chin, whilst his hair, of a similar hue, was cut rather short about his head, and worn without the least regard to any particular style or direction. But it was also his cla.s.s of pursuits that made him so singular a character. Every available apartment in his house not actually in use by human beings was appropriated to the conserving of innumerable rabbits, guinea-pigs, and ferrets. His areas were filled with poultry, bird-cages hung at every window, and the whole of his roof had been converted into one enormous pigeon-trap. It was one of his most favourite occupations to sit, on fine afternoons, with brandy-and-water and a pipe, and catch his neighbours' birds. He had very little private practice; the butcher, the baker, and the tobacconist were his chief patients, who employed him more especially with the intention of working out their accounts. He derived his princ.i.p.al income from the retail of his shop, his appointments of medical man to the police force and parish poor, and breeding fancy rabbits. These various avocations pretty well filled up his time, and when at home he pa.s.sed his spare minutes in practising gymnastics--balancing himself upon one hand and laying hold of staples, thus keeping himself at right angles to the wall, with other feats of strength, the acquisition of which he thought necessary in enabling him to support the character of Hercules--his favourite impersonation--with due effect."

It is not to be wondered at that Mr. Whittle, _alias_ Rawkins, should find that stealing his neighbours' pigeons, together with his other unprofitable accomplishments, to say nothing of the spa.r.s.eness of paying patients, could have only one termination--bankruptcy. Mr. Whittle ended his career in a public-house, of which he became proprietor after marrying the widow who kept it. Here he put off his coat to his work, and in his shirt-sleeves served his customers with beer. Leech and Albert Smith, and others of his pupils took his beer readily, though they had always declined to take his pills. It is said that he was originally a Quaker, and that he died a missionary at the Antipodes.

Leech stayed but a short time with the pigeon-fancying Whittle, whom he left to be placed under Dr. John c.o.c.kle, afterwards Physician to the Royal Free Hospital. Leech seems to have been a pretty regular attendant at anatomical and other lectures, and it goes without saying that his notes were garnished with sketches, for which his fellow-students sat unconsciously; and plenty of them remain to prove the impossibility of checking an inclination so strongly implanted in such a genuine artist as John Leech.

CHAPTER II.

EARLY WORK.

It was at St. Bartholomew's that Leech made acquaintance, which soon ripened into friendship, with Albert Smith, Percival Leigh (a future comrade on the _Punch_ Staff, and author of the "Comic Latin Grammar,"

"Pips' Diary," etc.), Gilbert a Beckett and many others, all or most of whom served as models for that unerring pencil.

The impecunious condition of Leech senior before John had reached his eighteenth year was such as to make his chances of getting a living by medicine or surgery, even if successful, so remote as to place them beyond consideration. No doubt the elder Leech's misfortunes were "blessings in disguise," for we owe to them the necessity that compelled the younger man to devote himself to art.

The art of drawing upon wood, to which Leech in his later years almost entirely confined himself, dates back from very early times.

Lithography, or drawing upon stone, is a comparatively modern invention, and, until the introduction of photography, was used for varieties of artistic reproduction. It was to that process we owe the first published work of Leech. The artist was eighteen years old when "Etchings and Sketchings," by A. Pen, Esq., price 2s. plain, 3s. coloured, was offered tremblingly to the public. The work was in the shape of four quarto sheets, which were covered with sketches, more or less caricatures, of cabmen, policemen, street musicians, hackney coachmen with their vehicles and the peculiar breed of animal attached to them, and other varieties of life and character common to the streets of London. This work is now very rarely to be met with; it consisted chiefly, I believe, of characteristic heads and half-length figures. To "Etchings and Sketchings" the young artist added some political caricatures, also in lithography, of considerable merit. With these, or, rather, with the heavy stones on which they were drawn, we may imagine the weary wanderings from publisher to publisher; the painful anxiety with which the verdict, on which so much depended, was waited for; the hopes that brightened at a word of commendation, only to be scattered by a few stereotyped phrases, such as, "Ah, very clever, but these sort of things are not in our way, you see; there is no demand," and so on.

1836, when Leech was still a boy, saw the production of works called "The Boy's Own Series," "Studies from Nature," "Amateur Originals," "The Ups and Downs of Life; or, The Vicissitudes of a Swell," etc.

The delicate touch and the grasp of character peculiar to the artist are recognised at once in many examples.

Leech's struggle for bread for himself and others must have been terrible at this time; indeed, up to the establishment of Rowland Hill's penny post, when, by what may be called a brilliant opportunity, Leech attracted for the first time the public attention, which never deserted him.

The t.i.tle of this book is "The Life and _Work_ of John Leech." Of the former, as I have shown, there is little to tell; on the latter, volumes, critical, descriptive, appreciative, might be written. An artist is destined to immortality or speedy oblivion according to his work, and it was my earnest hope, on undertaking this memoir, that I should be able to prove, by the finest examples of Leech's genius, that an indisputable claim to immortality was established for him. To a great extent I have been permitted to do so; but the law of copyright has debarred me from the selection of many brilliant pictures of life and character on which my, perhaps unreasonably covetous, eyes had rested.

The proprietors of _Punch_ and also of the copyright of most of Leech's other works are, no doubt, properly careful of their interests, and I can imagine their surprise at the extent of my first demands upon their good-nature. In my ignorance I had thought that as my object was the honour and glory of John Leech--a feeling, no doubt, shared by them--the treasures of _Punch_ would be spread before me, with a request that I would help myself. I do not in the least complain that I found myself mistaken. There are, no doubt, good reasons for the limits to which I was restricted, though I am unable to see them; and, granting the existence of those reasons, I should be ungrateful if I did not express my thanks for the small number of ill.u.s.trations from _Punch_ and other sources which I am allowed to use. I confess I was delighted to find that the first few years of the existence of _Punch_ were free by lapse of time from copyright protection, and as some of Leech's best work appears in the volumes between 1841 and 1849, I am able to show my readers further proofs of the justice of the artist's claim to be remembered for all time.

Leech's hatred of organ-grinding began very early in his career.

"WANTED, BY AN AGED LADY OF VERY NERVOUS TEMPERAMENT, A PROFESSOR, WHO WILL UNDERTAKE TO MESMERIZE ALL THE ORGANS IN HER STREET. SALARY, SO MUCH PER ORGAN."

The drawing which appeared in _Punch_ in 1843, with the above t.i.tle, was the first of the humorous series that continued almost unbroken for more than twenty years. It is pitiable to think of the long martyrdom that Leech suffered from an abnormal nervous organization, which ultimately made street-noises absolute agony to him. In the ill.u.s.tration the singular difference of dress in the organ-grinder of fifty years ago and him of the present time is noticeable, as also are the perfect expressions of the small audience. Leech's chief contributions to _Punch_ at this time were the large cuts, in which Peel, Brougham, the great Duke of Wellington, and others, play political parts in matters that would be of little interest to the reader of to-day, nor are the drawings of exceptional merit.

In 1844 there appeared an irresistible little cut, the precursor of so many admirable variations of skating and sliding incidents.

"NOW, LOBSTER, KEEP THE POT A-BILING."

What could surpa.s.s the impudence of the vigorous youngster, or the expression of the guardsman of amused wonder as he looks down upon the audacious imp, as Goliath might have looked upon David?

The sensation created by the first appearance of the dwarf Tom Thumb remains vividly in my memory. I saw him in all his impersonations; that of Napoleon, in which he was dressed in exact imitation of the Emperor, was very droll. The little creature was at Waterloo, taking quant.i.ties of snuff from his waistcoat pocket, giving his orders for the final charge which decided his fate; and when he saw that all was lost, his distress was terrible: he wrung his little hands and wept copiously, amidst the uproarious applause and laughter of the audience. Then he was at St. Helena, and, standing on an imaginary rock, he folded his arms, and gazed wistfully in the direction of his beloved France. After a long, lingering look, he shook his little head, and with a sigh so loud as to astonish us, he dashed the tears from his eyes, and made his bow to the audience, some of whom affected to be shocked by the laughter of the unthinking, and loudly expressed their sympathy with the great man in his fall. I well remember the great Duke going to see the amusing dwarf, but why Leech should have represented him in the dancing att.i.tude, as shown in the ill.u.s.tration, seems strange. Surely a more serious imitation of a Napoleonic att.i.tude would have been more telling and more comic.

The next print ill.u.s.trates a paper in _Punch_ called "Physicians and General Pract.i.tioners."

"The physician almost invariably dresses in black," says the writer, "and wears a white neck-cloth. He also often affects smalls and gaiters, likewise shirt-frills" (fancy a physician in these days thus dressed!).

He appears, no doubt very properly, in perpetual mourning. The general pract.i.tioner more frequently sports coloured clothes, as drab trousers and a figured waistcoat. With respect to features, the Roman nose, we think, is more characteristic of physicians; while among general pract.i.tioners, we should say, the more common of the two was the snub.

The general pract.i.tioner and the physician often meet professionally, on which occasion their interests as well as their opinions are very apt to clash; whereupon an altercation ensues, which ends by the physician telling the general pract.i.tioner that he is an "impudent quack," and the general pract.i.tioner's replying to the physician that he is "a contemptible humbug."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

How perfectly Leech has realized the scene for us the drawing abundantly shows. It is, perhaps, not too much to say that he never surpa.s.sed in drawing, expression, and character, these two admirable figures; full of contempt for each other, the emotion is expressed naturally, and with due regard to the peculiarities, widely varying, of each of the disputants.

More years ago than I care to remember, I met at dinner Mr. Gibson, the Newgate surgeon. At that time an agitation was afoot respecting public executions, the advocates maintaining that the sight of a fellow-creature done to death acted as a deterrent on any of the sight-seers who were disposed to risk a similar fate, the objectors declaring that the exhibition only made brutes more brutal, and was in no way a deterrent. As Mr. Gibson had had a long experience of criminals and their ways, it was thought worth while to ask his opinion of the matter in dispute. The surgeon said that, feeling strongly on the subject of public hanging, he had made a point of asking persons under sentence of death if they had ever attended executions, and he found that over three-fourths--he told us the exact number, but I cannot trust my memory on the point--had witnessed the finishing of the law. So much for the deterrent effect. The disgraceful scenes that took place at the execution of the Mannings produced a powerful letter to the press from d.i.c.kens, and an equally powerful article in the _Daily News_, by Mr.

Parkinson. Parliament was aroused, and public executions ceased.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WHERE 'AVE WE BIN? WHY, TO SEE THE COVE 'UNG, TO BE SURE!"]

The Leech drawing which follows appeared in 1845, some years before the Manning murder, and a considerable time previous to the agitation on the subject of hanging in public. If ever a moral lesson was inculcated by a work of art, this powerful drawing is an example. Who knows how much it may have done towards hastening the time when those horrible exhibitions ceased?

Is this squalid group, with debauchery and criminality in evidence in each figure, likely to be morally impressed by the sight of a public hanging? What are they but types of a cla.s.s that always frequented such scenes? The dreadful woman has carried her child with her; the little creature's attenuated limbs point to the neglect and ill-usage sure to be met with from such parents.

To those unacquainted with the "Caudle Lectures" by Douglas Jerrold, which appeared at this time in _Punch_, I recommend the perusal of those inimitable papers. One of their merits is their having given occasion for an admirable drawing by Leech. Lord Brougham was, in the eyes of _Punch_ and many others, a firebrand in the House of Lords. He was irrepressible, contentious, and brilliant on all occasions, quarrelsome in the extreme, and a thorn in the side of whatever Government was in power unless he was a member of it. The Woolsack, more especially the object of his ambition, was made a very uneasy seat to any occupant.

Behold him, then, as Mrs. Caudle--an excellent likeness--making night hideous for the unhappy Caudle, whose part is played by the Lord Chancellor--Lyndhurst--while the Caudle pillow is changed into the Woolsack.

"THE MRS. CAUDLE OF THE HOUSE OF LORDS."

"What do you say? _Thank heaven! you are going to enjoy the recess, and you'll be rid of me for some months?_ Never mind. Depend upon it, when you come back, you shall have it again. No, I don't raise the House and set everybody by the ears; but I'm not going to give up every little privilege, though it's seldom I open my lips, goodness knows!"--"Caudle Lectures" (improved).

[Ill.u.s.tration: "AN EYE TO BUSINESS."]

Whether such a scene as the following ever took place may be doubted; but that it might have happened, and may happen again, there is no doubt. One meets with strange seaside objects, and to bathe at the same time as one's tailor is within the bounds of possibility. Leech evidently thought so, hence this delightful little cut, wherein we see the creditor--evidently a tailor--improving the occasion to remind his fellow-swimmer of his little bill. See the businesslike aspect of the one and the astonishment and alarm of the other, who in the next few vigorous strokes will place himself beyond the reach of his creditor.

Full of sympathy, as Leech was, for human suffering, and frequently as he dealt with sea-sickness, he certainly never showed the least pity for the sufferers by that miserable malady. Its ludicrous aspect was irresistible to him, as numbers of ill.u.s.trations sufficiently prove, and none more perfectly than the one introduced in this place, with the t.i.tle of "Love on the Ocean," representing a couple evidently married on the morning of this tempestuous day. "Why, oh why," I can hear the unhappy bridegroom say to himself, "did we not arrange to pa.s.s our honeymoon in some pleasant place in England, and so have avoided crossing this dreadful sea?" To be ill in the dear presence of--oh, horror! And the lady is so unconscious, so serenely unconscious, of the impending catastrophe! She enjoys the sea, and, being of a poetical turn, she thus improves the occasion: