There was an old man with a Book —
Who said, “Only look! Only look! —
“Obsquation, — obsgration, —
“At Waterloo station —
Enquire if there ain’t such a book!”
Limerick on the publication of Edward Lear’s Views in the Seven Ionian Islands, 1863. Private Collection.
Exact likeness of me and my cat Foss, 23 February, 1884. Private Collection, The Walthall Family.
The Guardian (2012).
3 November.
My dear Lord Lindsay,
I have but a very few moments to thank you for a most kind letter & for the Cheque for 5£ it Contains. I shall like to hear that you & Lady Lindsay are pleased with the book.
Yes: Knowsley is indeed changed since I first went there in 1832: — but it seems to me that perhaps yet greater changes are ahead.
Believe me,
My dear Lord
yours sincerely,
Edward Lear.
The letter is for sale here. The seller’s description:
An autograph letter in which Lear writes to the art historian Alexander William Crawford Lindsay (1812-1880) on the R J Bush letterhead.
After thanking Lord Lindsay for his ‘kind letter’ and expressing the hope that he and his wife are pleased with ‘the book’, Lear goes on to make the enigmatic reference, ‘Yes: Knowsley is indeed changed since I first went there in 1832 : – but it seems to me that perhaps yet greater changes are ahead’.
HISTORICAL CONTEXT: Lear’s use of R J Bush’s letterhead places the letter sometime between 1870 and circa 1877 – this being the time Bush was acting as his publisher. In addition, Lord Lindsay travelled extensively in Mediterranean Europe studying and collecting art which would suggest that the book referred to is Lear’s ‘Journal of a Landscape Painter in Corsica’. This in turn would date the letter specifically to 1870, this being the year in which it was published.
This date possibly helps shed some light on Lear’s mysterious comment about Knowsley Hall that ‘it seems to me that perhaps yet greater changes are ahead’. The death of the fourteenth Earl of Derby in October 1869 saw his son Edward Henry Stanley accede to the title. The two contrasted sharply with each other. The longest serving leader of the Conservative Party and three times Prime Minister, the fourteenth Earl had envisaged that his son would follow closely in his footsteps. However, although Edward Henry Stanley did serve under Disraeli, he failed to share the political sensibilities of his father with his sympathies laying far more with the Liberals with whom he would go on to align himself explicitly in later life. Given Lear’s familiarity with the family, it seems likely that this was possibly the ‘greater change’ to which he was referring.
[Personally, I think the “greater chages” refers to Knowsley Hall as a menagerie, as the new Lord Derby did not share his father’s interest in zoology.]
The Stanley family had played a major role in the development of Lear’s career. Lear first went to Knowsley Hall in 1832 when he was engaged by the Thirteenth Earl (Lord Stanley) to draw the animals in his extensive menagerie (one of the largest private Zoological gardens in Europe) and it was whilst here that Lear began writing limericks for his patron’s grandchildren – limericks that would later be published in his ‘A Book of Nonsense’ in 1846 along with his ‘Gleanings from the Menagerie and Aviary at Knowsley Hall’. Lear’s books of nonsense verse and limericks quickly gained a high profile in Victorian society and Ruskin even stated that Lear was one of his favourite authors. At the same time the rumour emerged that the real author of the books was Lord Stanley and that ‘Lear’ was simply a pseudonym derived from Lord Stanley’s title ‘EARL of Derby’. Lear later related how he had felt compelled to intervene when he overheard people discussing this theory on a train from London to Guildford, producing the name tag in his handkerchief, hat and coat pocket as proof that he really did exist (Ref: Preface to the 1872 edition of ‘More Nonsense’ – E Lear).
Although the focus is often on his nonsense verse, it is worth emphasising that Lear was also a highly regarded artist of the time and even gave drawing lessons to Queen Victoria. In this vein, the recipient of the letter is Lord Lindsay (Alexander William Crawford Lindsay – 25th Earl of Crawford and 8th Earl of Balcarres (1812-1880)). Lindsay was a well known art historian with a particular focus on religious art and an early champion of the Italian Primitives (precursors to the aesthetics of the Pre-Raphaelites). He was also bother-in-law to Sir Coutts Lindsay who would go on to found the Grosvenor Gallery with his wife in order to provide an alternative venue to the Royal Academy for the display of the works of the Pre-Raphaelites and which would subsequently become a focus for the Aesthetic Movement.
DETAILED CONDITION REPORT : 20.5cm x 13.3cm. 4pp with integral blank leaf. Mailing folds. Small semicircular stain circa 7mm diameter at the top and bottom edge of the vertical fold. Small (1mm) spot in bottom left corne.
This program is sponsored by the Cotsen Children’s Library, the Graphic Arts Collection, and the Friends of the Princeton University Library. No reservations are necessary but for more information, contact Ian Dooley at 609-258-1148 or idooley@princeton.edu
Princeton University’s Graphic Arts Collection blog.
Group of three drawings with limericks, c1880. All in pen and ink, annotated either “5”, “10” or “11” in pencil in upper right corner, 18.7 x 26.7cm (paper). Stains, foxing and soiling overall, tears to edges, portions of paper corroded by ink, old vertical folds, tape verso. (Josef Lebovic Gallery).
There was an old maid of Malines, who wore such a huge Crinoline,
That on one windy day, she was blown right away,
And was never more heard of or seen.
There was an old Person of Brussels, who went out in a boat to catch mussels;
But a monstrous big shark, who was out for a lark,
Gobbled up this old Person of Brussels.
There was An old Lady Of Yarrow, who always drove out in a barrow;
The barrow was small, which caused her to fall,
And spilled that old Lady of Yarrow.
I have put up a new book of limericks at nonsenselit.org: The Original Fifteen Gentlemen, Fathers of All Books of Nonsense, Dug Up and Reclothed after Living in the Dust for Forty Years. Published by Frederick Arnold, London, n.d. [probaly around 1865].
Above is a page from the Guest Book of Albergo Cappuccini in Amalfi. In the upper half are the signatures of Edward Lear and James Uwins, “Pittori Inglesi. Contentissime. 3. weeks. 18. July. 1838” (English Painters. Very Satisfied. 3 weeks. 18. July.1838).
It is from an exhibition catalogue, Alla ricerca del Sud: Tre secoli di viaggi ad Amalfi nell’immaginario europeo. Edited by Dieter Richter. Scandicci: La Nuova Italia, 1989. 132.
Achille Vianelli, Sant’Arcangelo di Cava. Here.
Interestingly, just after Lear and Uwin’s entry is one for two Italian painters, belonging to the School of Posillipo (Italian): Achille Vianelli (Italian) and Ercole Gigante (1815-1860), the latter a member of an artistic dynasty began by his father Gaetano and continued by three more siblings: Emilia, Achille and, of particular interest, Giacinto. The Italians’ opinion was also extremely postitive: “Sempre contentissimi di padroni. Li 22 Luglio 1838 -” (Always very satisfied with the owners. On 22 July 1838). Impossible to think that the two groups did not get to know each other.
Ercole Gigante, Vista del mare dai Cappuccini [the hotel?]. Here.
His [Lear’s] Neapolitan contemporary (1806-1876), Giacinto Gigante of the ‘school of Posillipo’, knew Craven and Gell, and some of his landscapes have a striking resemblance to mature Lears, the subjects being alike, and the rocky foreground with the asphodels, the light on a pair of stone pines, the distant cliff: but Gigante is not as meticulous as Lear became.
The catalogue was kindly sent to me by the Centro di Cultura e Storia Amalfitana, and it can also be freely downloaded here. Though it is richly illustrated, there are no reproductions of paintings by Edward Lear, but next year the Centro will produce a book with over 100 pictures drawn by Lear during his visits to the Amalfi area in 1838 and 1844.
An 1866 advertising circular Edward Lear sent to Lady Rawlinson (wife of Sir Henry Rawlinson), enclosing an alphabet “towards the education of [her] son” (unfortunately not included) and two photographs, one of which, Lear painting in his studio, I do not remember ever seeing. The letter is interesting as it shows that Lear was very interested in the preservation of his productions for individual children. I do not know whether the alphabet has been preserved, however.
Also included is a pencil portrait of a bearded man in profile: this does not much look like Lear, in my opinion.
The letter is for sale here. The description, including a full transcript of the letter is below.
EDWARD LEAR Autograph Letter Signed
English artist, illustrator, author and poet, renowned today primarily for his literary nonsense, in poetry and prose, and especially his limericks, a form that he popularised.
ALS. 2pp. 15 Stratford Place, Oxford Street, W. June 18th 1866. To “Dear Lady Rawlinson”. Together with two contemporary carte de visite portrait photographs of Edward Lear and a pencil sketch possibly by his hand.
“The accompanying Alphabet is an offering towards the education of your son, of which I beg you to accept. I made his acquaintance at Knoyle last Autumn, when you and Sir Henry Rawlinson were absent from home.
I think – if the Alphabet is worth keeping – it will be worth pasting on coarse Holland, the edges of which may be bound round with a blue or red binding, when the whole may be stitched with one volume, presenting a cheerful appearance to the youthful mind and preserving the contents from sudden and total destruction by the youthful fingers.
I was sorry to find Mrs. Seymour was poorly when I called a few days back.”
The letter is integral to a printed sheet with an announcement of an exhibition of Lear’s Views in Palestine, Syria, Egypt, Greece, Sicily, Italy, etc, at his studios.
Together with two carte de visite photographs of Edward Lear (one by L. Caldesi & Co showing him painting in his studio and the other a vignette portrait by McLean Melhuish & Haes). Together with a pencil sketch from the same album leaf on which these items were mounted showing a bearded, balding gentleman (who resembles Lear himself) with an undeciphered name or signature below and dated 1865 Jany 30. The sketch is possibly by Edward Lear or of him. The letter is torn along fold between the two leaves and with some creasing and mounting traces on verso of the printed leaf. Both photographs are fine. The drawing has some browning to bottom edge, offsetting from a mounting on an opposite page of the album and mounting traces on the verso.
From a 19th century album compiled by Maj.-Gen. Sir Henry Creswicke Rawlinson (1810-1895) and his wife, Louisa Caroline Harcourt Rawlinson (nee Seymour). Sir Henry Rawlinson was a British politician and orientalist, sometimes described as the Father of Assyriology.
Edward Lear, Pamvotis Lake looking towards Aslan Pasha Mosque, Ioannina.
Watercolour and gouache over pencil. 16.5 x 26cm (6 1/2 x 10 1/4in).
Edward Lear, Ponte delle Maddalena, Bagni di Lucca.
Signed with monogram (lower left). Watercolour. 16 x 25.5cm (6 5/16 x 10 1/16in).
The alphabet had already been sold at a Christie’s auction in New York in 2005; it was made by Edward Lear between 27 February and 1 March 1858 for Ida Nea Shakespear (also see 2 March).
Sotheby’s catalogue entry for the sale in London on 4 June 2015:
AUTOGRAPH MANUSCRIPT FOR A PICTORIAL NONSENSE ALPHABET, 26 SEPARATE LEAVES, EACH WITH PEN AND INK LETTER FOLLOWED BY DRAWING AND VERSE BENEATH, C. 1857.
folio (323 x 196mm.), written on blue paper with watermarks “Joynson” or crowned oval with Poseidon at centre, each sheet backed with contemporary linen, additional sheets at the end to form an album, containing three ink-wash sketches on two leaves of a duck and her young, a rabbit, and a goat and her young, and with six hand-coloured oval portrait etchings of children, these last sheets watermarked “Smith & Meynier Fiume”, contemporary half roan, marbled boards, quarter red morocco folding box, some slight spotting and occasional discoloration to some drawings, edges of binding worn, spine rubbed and partially defective.
PROVENANCE
Ida Nea Shakespear, signature on flyleaf; by descent to Dr. I. F. Bohm, sale at Sotheby’s London, 20 April 1971, lot 543, where purchased by John Fleming (a copy of letter from Sotheby’s to Fleming discussing the provenance is loosely inserted); Norman and Cynthia Armour Collection, their sale, Christie’s New York, 27 April 2005, lot 94
LITERATURE
Vivien Noakes, Edward Lear 1812–1888, Royal Academy of Arts, 1985 (cf. 81a, b, c, and d, partial alphabets from the collections at the Houghton Library and the Victoria and Albert Museum)
CATALOGUE NOTE
ONE OF LEAR’S TYPICALLY DELIGHTFUL ‘NONSENSE ALPHABETS’, a number of which the author/artist composed for children up until 1870. Lear drew this particular alphabet during his stay in Corfu and presented it to Ida Nea Shakespear (Ida Nea’s name appears in highly speculative nineteenth-century and early twentieth-century accounts of the playwright’s descendants: see, for instance, Charlotte Carmichael Stopes, Shakespeare’s Family: a Record of the Ancestors and Descendants of William Shakespeare, 1901). The drawings and verses are similar to others which have appeared at auction and which Lear published. See, for example Christie’s, 29 May 1986, lot 203, and another one in these rooms on 22 July 1980, lot 401. Two printed examples can be found in Nonsense Songs, Stories, Botany, and Alphabets.
Lear visited Corfu on several occasions, first in 1848, moving there from Italy when the political situation became difficult. He set out on his next trip in November 1854, accompanied by his friend Franklin Lushington, who had recently been appointed judge at the Supreme Court of Justice in the Ionian Islands. His third trip to Corfu was over the winter of 1857. Other trips there were made in 1861, 1862, 1864 and 1877. According to Vivien Noakes, Lear made a number of these wonderful alphabets for children up to 1870 (Edward Lear 1812-1888, London, 1985, p. 173).
“Despite his loneliness…Lear was a sought-after and convivial companion, with a wide circle of acquaintance and many real friends who remained trusted and supportive…Children responded to his tall, shambling, bearded, bespectacled figure with warmth and happiness, and he treated them with humorous understanding and respect…” (Oxford DNB)
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