Front Cover
 Title Page
 List of Illustrations
 Back Cover

Title: Warwick Brookes' pencil-pictures of child life
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00055387/00001
 Material Information
Title: Warwick Brookes' pencil-pictures of child life
Physical Description: 76, 1 p. : ill., ports ; 18 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Letherbrow, T ( Author )
Brookes, Warwick ( Illustrator )
D. Lothrop & Company ( Publisher )
Berwick & Smith ( Printer )
Publisher: D. Lothrop Company
Place of Publication: Boston
Manufacturer: Berwick & Smith
Publication Date: c1888
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Drawing -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Animals -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Brothers and sisters -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Infants -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Natural history -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Circus -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1888
Genre: non-fiction   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
Statement of Responsibility: with biographical reminiscences by T. Letherbrow ; twenty-four engravings from pictures by Warwick Brookes.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00055387
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002232984
notis - ALH3383
oclc - 09007603

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Title Page
        Page 3
        Page 4
    List of Illustrations
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
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        Page 72
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        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
Full Text
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Press of Berwick & Smith, Boston.


Warwick Brookes rontispiece
Vignette 7
Baby and sister 11
Son of Warwick Brookes. 13
The annual horse fair at Salford 14
A pencil-picture 17
In dark days 19
Home-made playthings 21
Amusing the baby 23
So busy! 27
Red Riding-hood 31
Home models 35
A slate picture 37
Beautiful tables 3.!
A-Maying .43
A lane in Cheshire 4)
Lambs of tile little farm 47
" Classic as in the days of Phidias." 49

6 List of Engravings.

The simple prose of family life 51
Grieving 53
Bed-time 55
"Models were within the four walls of his own
dwelling" 5
Neighbor children ..
Convalescent .. 63
The circus 65
" Give pussy apiece!" 07
The pet lamb .71
Fac-simile autograph letter by Gladstone 75
Vignette ..77

~' --~p.-'.~



~L~~P" I~y~



WARWICK BROOKES, the English artist who
drew the beautiful pencil-pictures of home, peace
and childhood that are now famous, was born in
the stormy closing years of the reign of George
the Third. His own childhood fell in the very
darkest of this century--in the troubled days
of Napoleon's wars, when bad hard laws were
made in England, and bread was dear, and
work uncertain. War always means wasted
money, high taxes, stoppage of work and trade,
closed mills and factories, thousands of men and
women thrown out of employment, high prices
of food, and therefore much suffering among

10 Warwick Brookes.

laboring people. Warwick Brookes' parents
were of these poor people, Lancashire factory-
folk, and the little boy himself was born in
Salford, a suburb of the great cotton-mill town
of Manchester, in 1808. The picture, "The
Annual Horse Fair," gives you an idea of his
birthplace; in the passage under the hanging
lamp in the distance stands the house where he
was born.
Salford is a historic borough, an ancient
Danish settlement, a royal stronghold of Edward
the Confessor, apportioned to and quaintly de-
scribed in William the Conqueror's Domesday
Book. King Canute once came riding through
it, and one of his knights, Ranulphus de Tray-
ford, settled there, on the banks of one of the
three rivers that wind about the town, and in
the family hall on its banks, a mile or two be-
low, his descendants live still. Some of the
Salford mills have stood here since 1134; and
just below the town run the great Roman roads


La l

;~,- 1' r,

"/ '. -. -

j, '. ,- -
.. . . ... .. .


Warwick Brookes. 13

of Julius Agricola, built back in the days of
Queen Boadicea. There are celebrated schools
at Salford also, and
some famous emen
have been educated
in them.
But, born in the
very lap of History,
and among the vener-
able temples of learn-
ing, little WTarVwick
Brookes was not bred
a scholar; he was
never, as pupil, inside SON OF WARWICK BROOKES.
Salford's celebrated (Said to look very much like his
father at the saize age.)
grammar school. The
school to which he was sent was evidently in-
ferior, since he was taught to write not with
pens, ink, and paper, but with his finger, in a
box of smoothed sand. It was a part of the
duty of the little scholar to carry a black lead

14 Warwick Brookes.

pencil to the master in order that the attend-
ance book might be marked. This operation
the child viewed with intense interest; it was
performed by the aid of an instrument with
which he then became acquainted for the first
time but which, in future years, in his hand was
to picture those beautiful babies that Dante
Gabriel Rossetti pronounced "triumphs, every
one of them."
At this school the little six-year-old Warwick
-there is a tradition that he was descended
from a daughter of the great Warwick, the King-
Maker-staid only three years. By the time
he was nine years old the general distress and
poverty had further involved his parents, and
he was taken from school to help earn the daily
bread, for his father shared in the general dissi-
pation into which discouragement and lack of
work often plunge the poor. The little lad
went into a print-works to act as "tear-boy to
his Uncle Thomas who was a block printer on

I .L-l r I


TWVarwick Brookes. 17

calicoes. His duty was to dip a brush in color
and to keep supplied the color-cloth on which
the printer daubed his block before he applied
it to the fabric.
His brave mother (we
should never have known
of her but from the lips of
her children), a Yorkshire
woman and a schoolmas-
ter's daughter, had hard
work to keep want from ,
the door; but her York- .
shire thrift brought them
through, on how small
means will never be told,
and with wholesome oat-
meal porridge, and but- .-
termilk and the home-
made loaf, she kept the table going.
Her children were all gifted. If nothing else,
she taught them self-respect and contentment.

I8 Warwick Brookes.

"Once, in a quiet hour, the artist spoke to
me," says a friend, "of the darkest shadow that
rested on their home: how on Saturday nights
he could not sleep in his little bed, but lay
awake full of fear far on towards midnight.
Hard indeed was the portion of the patient
wife; but her griefs made her son register a vow
that no woman or child should ever suffer for
his sins. And to the last he treated his loved
ones with more than womanly gentleness."
You bright American children, with your mag-
azines, scientific toys, and countless books, can-
not realize the lot of this little "tear-boy in
the small cottage in a smoky English town. His
books were only the Bible and Robinson Crusoe;
pictures he had none, nor any art-possessions
except a few silhouettes of pigs and horses,
which a neighbor's lad used to cut out in paper,
and fling in at the little window of his bed-
room. They were clever in their way, and gave
him great delight.


" i




Warwick Brookes. 21


Once he told me that before he possessed a
pencil, he used to go about the streets noticing
the lines of buildings, cart-wheels, barrows, and
any common object, thinking how they ought to
be put on paper, and that this habit never left
him, and later he applied it to the human figure.

22 Warwick Brookes.

It was a golden day to him when for the first
time he saw in a book-shop window in the old
market-stead of Manchester an engraving from
Sir Joshua Reynolds. He gloated on it, he
worshiped it, he dreamed of it. It was more
to him than twenty South Kensington hand-
books, and selected examples from the great
masters. Indeed, he used to shake his head
mournfully over modern drawing systems.
"Look at this," he said, holding up a copy of
outline in the flat, of a vase. "This is what
they give them to do. The lad has been weeks
over it, and the master has gone over every line
too. It would task my powers to do a thing
like this, and it is no mortal use when done."
Nobody rejoiced more than he did over the
development of painting, the national school
system, and all the new aids for youth. But
before his death he used to wonder how it was
that with such numerous baits and incitements
and medals and honors lads did not do better;

i ~'


Warwick Brookes. 25

above all that they did not really care for their
He himself had great aptitude for everything
which required nicety of touch and manipulative
skill; as a boy he made all kinds of playthings,
theatrical characters, stage appliances, etc.,
better than any other boy. As a man, he was
neat, precise, and delicate in whatever mechani-
cal work he undertook, and in the various pro-
cesses connected with drawing and painting in
all their branches. No phase of artistic labor
came amiss or presented any difficulty. He
could imagine, and draw a design on copper,
etch, bite, and print it, at a first trial, with com-
plete success. There is a wood-cut in existence
which exemplifies this. Taking a block of wood
he drew on it a pretty design of a nude Venus
and Cupid; then with some simple tool he cut
the design and printed it; looking at the skill
with which this was done, and the knowledge it
displayed of the properties of lines, it would be

26 Warwic/k rookes.

difficult for any one to believe that this was a
first attempt in the art of wood-engraving.
When at work, he often amused himself by
making a patchwork drawing; that is, he would
take up the nearest bit of paper when some fig-
ure-combination suddenly caught his eye, and
sketch it down rapidly; such lines made in the
heat of conception cannot well be copied; he,
therefore, expanding the idea, added another
piece of paper and yet another (sometimes sev-
eral more), and then united them so deftly that
the process was only discovered on close inspec-
But how was it that he, this poor little "tear-
boy," with so few books and such little school-
ing, wrote and spoke fine English, read with
understanding, and perfected at least one talent
God had given him, while the new generation
seemed to carry so little from their numerous
classes ?
In one thing Warwick Brookes was happier

f ,

so liusY i

Warwick Brookes. 29

than the small toilers of our vast cities at the
present day. Manchester was a comparatively
little town then; you could see blue sky over-
head from the work-shop windows, and fifteen
minutes brought you to green fields beside the
river. Thither little Warwick, a small-limbed,
big-browed child, with earnest eyes, would often
wander with 11. -.- r boys on Sunday afternoon,
watching the fish in the brook and pulling wild-
flowers. Coming home on these quiet Sunday
afternoons he would lay his bunch of lilac,
May-flowers or buttercups on the clean-scoured
kitchen dresser in an old brown pitcher, and
hover near to gaze on them with delight.
The poor mother, her week's work satisfacto-
rily behind her, her small dwelling made as
bright as her thrifty hands could do it, had an
hour or two for retrospective Sunday thoughts.
The flowers awoke recollections of long-past
childhood, when she too pulled flowers in the
meadows under the shadow of the old weather-

30 Warwick Brookes.

beaten tower of A .-1_; Church by the silver
At such moments she dwelt with the passion-
ate love of a daleswoman on the beauties of her
native Wensleydale, and the child drunk it in
eagerly. Beyond the dark and narrow streets
of Manchester with their noise of wooden-shod
feet and whirring looms, oh! so far away, lay
Wensleydale, where she was born, and where
their folk had dwelt for hundreds of years.
There the silver Yare wanders at its will, un-
vexed by dirty dye-works and noisy mills, only
turning here and there a mossy mill-wheel; and
the young lambs play on the banks, and the
birds sing by thousands in the hazel-copses,
where nuts hang thick in October. Surely there
never was anything so sweet as Wensleydale;
one walk across those fields would cure her
headaches which were so bad in the heavy air
of the town.
But the moors with their purple heather, and






Warwick Brookes. 33

the crags with their wild thyme were loveliest.
Or perhaps after all the valley was loveliest, es-
pecially in the month of May when orchids and
primrose and cowslip stand thick on all the way-
sides, countless as the stars in heaven, and so
common that nobody cares to pull them, save
the wee bairnies, like herself, who used to make
bunches and set them around in the sand and
call it a dilly-hall."
You can fancy the long talks, mother and child
had in their quiet moments, and how the boy
dreamed of the wonders of that mother-land.
Mrs. Brookes could not write poetry, but she
thought and felt all that Heine puts in those
pretty verses of which I have made a free trans-
lation for you: -

My child, we twain were children,
Two children small and gay;
We played in the barn in winter
And hid ourselves in the hay.

34 Warwick Brookes.

We crowed and clucked in the corner
When passers-by came near;
We thought they would take our voices
For the call of Chanticleer.

Sometimes we sat and prated
Just like our old grandame,
How things had been in our young days
And never would be the same;

How faith and love and duty
Were vanished from earth,
And money was scarce and bread was dear,
And winter would bring dearth.

Sometimes our neighbor's pussy
Looked in upon our games;
Then we made her bows and curtesies,
And gave her courtly names.

We asked if her cough was better,
And gossiped of this and that;
We've done as much and more since then,
To many a rich old cat!

The children's games are over,
The busy world rolls on,
With its songs and its tears and its weary pelf,
But where are those children gone?"

I .D i

. -" r .-.' ,OD .S.
' ^ .... li ".


Warwick Brookes. 37

At this period the lad drew by instinct what-
ever came before him-his own hand, his
mother's Delft plates and platters, the public-
house sign, anything, everything. Often at the
calico-works did he look with longing upon an
inner sanctuary
where t h e designs
were made, and which
the workmen irrever-. '
ently termed "t he ---
conjuring shop." ,
In one place was
noise, rough manners,
distasteful vulgarity;
in the other, order, -
repose, an atmosphere
of art, and the win- -l
dows looked upon n-
green fields and the
high moorland stream. But the idea of entering
thatsanctuary was too visionary to be entertained.

38 Varwic/e Brookes.

Some drawings of his, however, fell into the
hands of the master; he was astonished, and
exclaimed "Have I a tear-boy who can do this?"
The little draughtsman was sent for, set to work
(a thing beyond his hopes!) and, ere long,
apprenticed. The shepherd-boy of Vespignano
found a friend in Cinabu6, and the tear-boy a
friend in the calico-printer !
IIHe soon justified the step by making designs
which became so popular that they were en-
graved several times, and, as time went on, he
was advanced into work where artistic oversight
was required.
It was a proud day for young Brookes, when,
as the head of the family (his father being dead)
le was able to take home the wages of a journey-
man, with his indentures which he had honor-
ably served. ('ih l;.: was distasteful to him,
and he remained with his first employer for
fifteen years, during which he steadily advanced,
by his own unaided efforts, in artistic skill.


Warwick Brookes. 41

At last a great awakening came in the visit
of B. R. Haydon to Manchester for the purpose
of lecturing on art. Full of learning and en-
thusiasm, his eloquence made a deep impression.
He was horrified at the state of art, and of the
arts of design, and wrote and spoke with energy
in favor of the establishment of Schools of
Design. As a result the first school was estab-
lished in 1838, and Warwick Brookes then
thirty years old was for the first time not only
able to see, but to study, in the works of Phidias,
the finest emanations of the genius of art which
the world has ever seen, or will see.
In this school, under an able master, after his
day's labor at designing patterns, he studied
steadily during five years, when the resignation
of the master, and a change in the system,
caused Mr. Brookes and a body of the best stu-
dents to leave and set up an artistic republic of
their own. This band of earnest, studious,
gifted men worked together for more than

42 Warwick Brookes.

twenty years, and during these years Mr.
Brookes's delightful talent and unique style
were developed. His continual endeavor was
after Youth, Grace, and Beauty. The tragic
and terrible were alien to the tranquil current
of his thoughts. He was attracted by the ele-
gant and the delicate. Omitting what was vul-
gar and prosaic he strove rather to give the soul
and the spirit.
All this while he remained at the pattern-
designer's bench. He resisted appeals to quit
his business for the profession of art, and even
declined tempting offers to go abroad in the
pursuit of his ordinary calling. His mother he
would not quit, her comfort he would not im-
peril. On this account, though a great lover
of children, and delighting in domestic life, he
remained a bachelor until well past the mature
age of forty.
But, one summer's day, while sketching in
the sylvan glades of a forest in Cheshire, a

V: -

~ .. 'A '

A =

**- L

Warwick Brookes. 45

woodland nymph appeared who effected a con-
siderable change in his ideas and life-plans.
Her father's cottage to which he found his way
afforded a pleasant subject for his pencil, with
its flower garden and climbing plants. So too
did the house, the calves, the sheep and lambs
of the little farm. It was wonderful how many
objects he found to sketch, inside and out, and
how many visits he found it indispensable to
make. He learned, in short, that one of these
objects he could in no wise dispense with, and
therefore, in 1852 he married and took the wood
nymph home.
In 1853, Mr. Brookes lost his mother. Side
by side they had journeyed for fifty years, and
their first parting (of any moment) was their
Now if ever was the time for him to follow
his bent and cleave to art! But the ambition
for fame was not in his gentle nature. Besides,
a family was growing up around him and pre-

46 Warwick Brookes.

eluded the idea. So, like William Blake, he
went on working during the day at an alien
--. business, and in the
I evening gave himself
at" o the free enjoyment
f of his powers. The
Wonder is that one
did not spoil the
Hi s instruments
were always of the
simplest a n d least
expensive; he had
_____-- no elaborate para-
A LANE IN CHESHIRE. henalia not even

a lay-figure; was never troubled about a proper
"light" or an "aspect;" had not a single cos-
tume of any kind arms or armor; no draper-
ies or studio "properties of any sort.
But the human nature around him was as
classic as in the days of Phidias. Grace of

4; :' Vy -

l l


,.: --.- :-. ..


Warwick Brookes. 49

form, beauty of expression and harmony of
combination existed precisely as in the Attic
days; all that was wanted was the seeing eye.
Themes, models and costumes were all within
the four walls of his own dwelling, and the
simple, homely, and pa-

pad or ha to ,r---- -- ---
thetic prose of family
life became, in his
mind, a poem and then
a picture. A few shil-
lings furnished his
stock in trade. For the
instrument with which
all his best things were
done, namely, the black
lead pencil, he never
paid more than two or -
three cents; half-penny "cLASSIC AS IN THE DAYS OF
pencils he called them.
He never sat at his work, or used an easel,
but stood and held his paper in his hand, and in

50 Warwick Brookes.

this way would make studies faultless in finish
and lovely in texture.
But no young artist need suppose that such
work as Warwick Brookes's can be got by mere
copying of anything before him. "He once told
me," says his friend, Dr. Crompton, "that he
watched carefully for what was artistic." There
is one of his sketches of one of his children in
her nightdress. "Stop, mammy," he said to his
wife, keep her so till I have done."
"I never knew any man with a purer mind
than Warwick Brookes," Dr. Crompton once
said to me. And any one looking at his works
must be sure that his love for his children and
for child-life must have been of the warmest
nature. The beam of love in his eye when his
children were round him was charming; and the
kindness of the man, and the tenderness of any
little correction, were what one noticed at once.
This tenderness was shown in a hundred
ways; among others by the patient manner in



Warwick Brookes. 53

which he would sit, night after night, by the
bed of a sick child, soothing its restless hours,
and lulling it to sleep.
In his memory were no
such precious and tender
reminiscences; only the mem- ,
ory of hardships inseparable
from poverty, and of dark
midnight hours, spent in an I
agony of apprehension, wait-
ing the coming of an un-
steady step.
Most of his sketches were
made from his own children. -
At one time one of his win-
dows looked out upon a row of cottages, where
the wives often sat at the doors with their chil-
dren round them. He said that he often got
ideas from them; some one asking where his
studio was, he replied, taking him to this win-
dow: "My own home and those cottage steps."

54 Warwick Brookes.

His pencil sketches are in texture the most
lovely things that can be imagined. A friend
asking him whose pencils he used, he said
"Half-penny joiners; I buy them from a man
in the neighborhood." Ah, the art was in the
man. Yet, it must not be supposed that he had
not availed himself of every opportunity and
help within his reach. He had many illustrated
works, and his walls were covered with choice
things -photographs from Raphael, fine en-
gravings and a few water-color sketches by
eminent men. His judgment of the works of
other men was singularly sound. To go round
an exhibition of pictures with him, and listen
to his criticisms, was a high privilege. He was
very small in person, and panted as he walked;
but his eye would brighten and he would ex-
claim when he saw anything that he could com-
mend. As to the teaching in schools of art, he
had but a poor opinion of it, because it was so
mechanical. No one could shade more beauti-

._ -- .. --X.. -- !^

, '8 } 'il^-:-- : .-.,

,. i -

13 ED-'r [ME.

Warwick Brookes. 57

fully than he did, but he said that far too much
attention was given to it--that it was mere
mechanism -good as far as it went -but in
following it too far artistic teaching was neg-
As we have said, Mr Brookes was interested
in the development of art in all its stages, espe-
cially in its primary steps in the public schools.
In a private letter his son relates an amusing
incident in this connection. He says:-

On one occasion my father was appointed the examiner
of the pupils' drawings at one of the large public schools
in the town of Manchester. The drawing-master brought
the drawings to the house for him to go through. He
soon picked out the one he considered the best and told
the teacher that that one was entitled to the first prize.
Then he found one which he said was worthy of the sec-
ond prize. "But, Mr. Brookes," said the teacher, "the
boy whom you say should have the first prize is a very
naughty boy, and the other boy is a very good boy. Had
we not better award the first prize to the good boy, and
give the other one the second prize?" "No-no," said

58 Warwick Brookes.

my father, I can never give my consent to any such
arrangement. However bad the boy may be in other
things, his drawings are certainly the best, and if my
name is to be mentioned as the examiner of the drawings
I shall insist upon the first prize being awarded to the boy
whose drawing I consider best, whatever his faults may

"One day," says his physician, the good Dr.
Crompton, "I saw him ill in bed. There were
two windows opposite the bed between which
was a wash-stand and over it a piece of muslin
on a string to keep the wall-paper from being
spotted. He said to me I sent for my boy' (I
forget the name) 'and said to him, Dost thou
see anything in that muslin ?" and the boy said
"no." I told him that he would never be an
artist, then, for I could see figures dancing.'
On his recovery, he made a drawing of these
dancing figures which he gave to my wife -a
thing of great beauty and worthy of Stothard."
This kindly critic was the most genial and


Warwick Brookes. 61

"easily entreated" of companions. He had
considerable musical ability. As a boy he was
a chorister in a place of worship in Salford. At
maturity his voice ..
was bass, but the only
musical accomplish-
ment he cultivated I
was that of whistling;
he remembered tunes '. -
with facility, and
would sometimes
gratify his friends by
whistling long and in- i,
tricate passages from ..
operas without the
omission of a semi- b..' Ai-
quaver; the tone be- _-_.-_ /
ing sweet and delicate --
and having a re-
moteness about it which added to the charm.
It has been said that those artists who have

62 Warwick Brookes.

delighted in the charm of cats have delighted
equally in the charm of women, and a love of
the good and beautiful. This was certainly
true of Mr. Brookes; like Mohammed and the
Egyptians he venerated the majesty and wisdom
of the harmless, necessary cat, and would readily
have believed what was affirmed of the famous
French actor of Hamlet, Rouv4ire, that his sys-
tem of gesture was based on the study of the
cat, and that the contemplation of that animal
would do an actor as much good as a whole
course at the Conservatoire.
Anyhow Mr. Brookes was as great a lover of
cats as Godfrey Mind, the Swiss Katzen-Raphael,
who lived a hundred years ago, but he drew
them more delightfully. He was in perfect
sympathy with the elegance, grace, insight and
composure of the cat, and reproduced these
qualities perfectly, in oil, and in black and
white. His cats had not the fantastic diablerie
of Japanese and heathen cats generally, nor the

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Warwick Brookes. 65

tigerish look with which some French painters
invest them, nor the rough vigor of Harrison
Weir's; he drew them better than the Germans,

T ^,' *' - .. '. .


Oscar Pletsch and Richter, making them emi-
nently feline and beautiful.
It is curious in the case of such a lover of
animals that the dog so seldom appears in his
drawings, and that he did not possess one.
In his annual visit to London, a day at the
zoological gardens formed an important part.

66 Warwick Brookes.

On one occasion there was a great stir owing to
the disappearance of a serpent. On examina-
tion it was found that a huge boa had swallowed
all but a small portion which still projected from
the creature's fangs; this was seized and the
luckless serpent drawn from its living tomb by
main force; seeing this, and a lovely kitten en-
tering at the same moment, showing the tip of
its rosy tongue, the artist feared it was about to
become the prey of one of the reptiles, so, seiz-
ing it he exclaimed: "Bless thee! thou shalt
not be eaten. Thou art worth everything in
this place!" But loitering in the gardens too
long the gates were closed and he was compelled
to scale them. The comical appearance of the
artist on the top of the gates with a half-amused,
half-terrified expression of face, a large hat and
immaterial legs (which were of the Charles
Lamb type) was greatly enjoyed by his com-
The current of his life which had flowed on

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Warwick Brookes. 69

so peacefully for more than fifty years, was in
1865 rudely interrupted by the beginning of his
long illness of seventeen years !
It was during the dark early days of this time,
when the future of himself and his family bade
fair to grow more and more clouded and uncer-
tain, that he made the great and powerful friend-
ships which lit with sunshine the close of his
life. By the advice of Dr. Crompton, Mr.
Nesmith, and Mr. Shields, his lovely pencil-
pictures were photographed and published in a
series; and through these he was soon made
known to the best of the hereditary and intel-
lectual leaders of London society who liberally
bought his drawings, and portfolios of photo-
graphs, and invited him to their town and coun-
try houses.
Sir Francis Grant, the President of the Royal
Academy, IM\il, -, Rossetti, Watts, and other
eminent artists marveled at the fine quality of
his art. For a series of years he enjoyed the

70 Warwick Brookes.

most delicate hospitality of Lord Northbourne,
which no doubt greatly prolonged his life, and
often the "tear-boy" of the dark days of George
the Third found himself in the midst of the fore-
most statesmen of the Victorian era. Among
the many services rendered by this kind noble-
man to the artist, the most memorable was the
bringing him to the notice of the Prime Minister
of that time, the Rt. Hon. W. E. Gladstone.
The cares of a vast empire and the passing of
a series of great measures through the House
of Commons pressed, but the kind man made
leisure to examine, appreciate, and enjoy the
work of the artist, to correspond with him and,
at his castle in Wales, in the midst of his family,
to treat him with the greatest kindness and
A greater contrast can hardly be imagined
than that presented by these two figures, in ear-
nest talk at the Study at Hawarden. The
statesman was a year younger than the artist;



Warwick Brookes. 73

yet the one was a child in comparison with the
other, who was versed in the law of all the ages,
and in the multifarious branches of statecraft.
The difference was as great as that between the
drawing of "The Pet Lamb" lying on the table,
and its neighbor, the "Bill for the Disestablish-
ment and Disendowment of the Irish Church."
The student of Homer bade the student of
Phidias to be of good cheer, assuring him that
he should never want for anything.
Mr. Gladstone's active interest did not end
here; the artist's work was shown to Her Maj-
esty the Queen, who gladly purchased several
specimens (as did her daughter the Princess
Louise) and wrote to say how much she was
charmed with them, and she also cordially as-
sented to a proposal which Mr. Gladstone made,
that Mr. Brookes should be granted a pension
of one hundred pounds per annum, and that it
should be dated for the previous year.
For eleven years longer, hopeful and happy to

74 Warnick Brookes.

the last, Mr. Brookes worked on at home, and
making short excursions to beautiful country
lanes and green spots, producing a series of
exquisite studies. Then came the end.
On the evening of his death it is said that an
Italian woman came and played on an organ in
front of the house. The tune was unnoted, it
might have been Burns's Land o' the Leal";
fearing the noise might disturb him, they were
about to send her away but he at once reproved
them, saying "Don't send her away; she is the
countrywoman of Raphael!"
On hearing of his death the Prime Minister
(though busied in great affairs respecting Ire-
land and Egypt) wrote by return of post the
following letter to a son of the artist, and, on
receiving a reply, forwarded a donation from
the Queen's Bounty of a hundred pounds :-


10. ottning tlrect.
Ar biteall.

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