The Artist As Naturalist and Experimenter: Landscape Painting and Science 1740-1850

THE ARTIST AS NATURALIST AND EXPERIMENTER: LANDSCAPE PAINTING AND SCIENCE 1740-1850

Beryl Hartley MA (RCA)

Volume I

A thesis submitted for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy of the University of London

Imperial College of Science, Technology and Medicine (History of Science and Technology) 2

ABSTRACT

This thesis discusses the relationship of late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century British naturalistic landscape painting to the fieldwork and experimental practices of contemporary scientific endeavour. It argues that close study was essential to a naturalistic treatment and traces what this entailed in practical terms.

Part I assesses some eighteenth-century field collaborations between artists and naturalists engaged in a variety of investigations from the 1740s, and the value of sketching to fieldwork. The significant effect of the naturalists' rigour and methodology on the artists' practice is revealed.

Part II deals with the knowledge and representation of trees; of obvious importance in nature and landscape painting, they have been little discussed by historians of science or art. It demonstrates the unique role of landscape painters in the study of living trees. A survey of works on trees dating from mid seventeenth century, resulting from a wide range of economic, aesthetic and scientific concerns, reveals an increasing demand for naturalistic drawings. The neglect of whole trees by botanists and their artists is explained and major changes in British botany around 1830 are shown to have ended it; the expertise of certain landscape painters was essential in providing depictions of living trees.

In Part III an examination of eighty years of tree-drawing manuals by landscape painters helps to clarify the practical aspects of close study. The special and often innovative visual and manual skills acquired in the activity of tree drawing from nature, including the creation of a device - "the touch" - to express the characters of different foliage, are analysed in depth. The exploratory nature of this practice, and its embedded craft and tacit skills, are shown to be analagous to aspects of laboratory experimentation. 3

CONTENTS

Volume I

Preface 5 Acknowledgements 7 List of Illustrations in Volume II 8 Abbreviations !2

INTRODUCTION 13

PART I SKETCHING IN THE FIELD: COLLABORATION BETWEEN LANDSCAPE PAINTERS AND NATURALISTS IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 26

Chapter 1 From idealising to studying nature 31

Chapter 2 The artist's role 63

PART II THE KNOWLEDGE AND REPRESENTATION OF TREES 104

Chapter 3 Attitudes to trees and their representation: Evelyn to Loudon 108

Chapter 4 Tree drawing: picturesque theory and natural history practice 136

Chapter 5 Naming and knowing: botany and trees 163

PART III THE LIVING ACADEMIES OF NATURE: EXPERIMENTAL PRACTICES AND COMMUNICATION OF TECHNIQUES IN TREE DRAWING 207

Chapter 6 Nature as guide: innovations 210

Chapter 7 Putting the stamp of nature on the work of art 246

Chapter 8 Scientific experiment in learning and communicating the skills of tree drawing 285 4

CONCLUSION 317

BIBLIOGRAPHY 325

Volume II

ILLUSTRATIONS

PART I 358

PART II 387

PART III 415 5

PREFACE

Looking at naturalistic landscapes by British painters of the early nineteenth century over a long period, and pondering on their striking contrast to the artificiality of idealised visions, or the stark matter-of-factness of topographical art, raised various questions. Why did landscape painters begin to look more directly at nature and when, and - since it was clearly not a simple transition from either of these modes - precisely how did they go about it? To what extent did they need to change their perception of nature, adopt new methods and develop new skills? Above all, was the 'how' in any way connected with Constable's remarks that painting was a science, and "a branch of natural philosophy of which the paintings are but experiments"?1 This had always puzzled me and I had never found a convincing explanation. I was aware of Constable's interest in natural history, including geology, and of his studies of cloud formations and trees, but what models had he, and others attempting to draw naturalistically, found for their practice? The influence of seventeenth-century Dutch landscape appeared an insufficient explanation,- Constable himself said: "I have been running after pictures, and seeking the truth at second hand".2

Tree drawing appeared a neglected area and I began to investigate attitudes to trees and tree depiction, and especially the teaching of it. Treatises on trees were generally informative and the drawings they contained increasingly naturalistic; botany appeared to ignore whole trees completely, and the implications of that for landscape painters who were drawing them needed to be clarified. Examining tree-drawing manuals, which urged painters to observe nature closely and depict her faithfully, I had a growing conviction that these

1 . Royal Institution lecture 16 June 1836, quoted Leslie 1843 (1951 p. 323). 2. Quoted Leslie ibid. p. 15. 6 landscape painters were emulating field naturalists. It became evident that in coping with the particular difficulties of representing foliage, for instance, they originally learned by doing, observing the trees closely and exploring various means of expressing the salient features of each type. Perhaps this was what Constable meant by experimentation?

Parts II and III contain my examination and evaluation of these issues. Part I, on landscape painters and naturalists collaborating in fieldwork in the eighteenth-century, arose out of the tree research since the 'when' question still remained unanswered. It thus sets the scene for the discussion of trees in the rest of the thesis and gives credence to my view of the artist as naturalist. 7

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

First and foremost I want to thank Jim Secord, who is surely the thesis supervisor par excellence. He has been unstinting with his time and effort and his constructive criticism and helpful suggestions have been invaluable. His unfailing enthusiasm for my research encouraged me in difficult times when I might otherwise have given up.

David Allen, Ian Fleming-Williams, David Gooding and Peter Stevens were generous with their time, and discussions with them helped me greatly with some troublesome points. Thanks for advice and help of various sorts are also due to Nicholas Alfrey, Christopher Frayling, Patricia Fara, Andrew Grout, Yolande Hodson, Frank James, Mary Jennings, Stephen Johnston, David Knight, Alan Moreton, James Ryan, Anne Secord, Peter Schimkat, Ann Shteir, Richard Taylor and Hugh Torrens. Dan Fern at the Royal College of Art kindly provided access to a special copier for the illustrations for the bound copies, and Mike Watson operated it with skill and care.

I am particularly indebted to all the archivists and librarians who provided invaluable assistance, especially Malcolm Beasley and Julie Upton in the Botany Library, Natural History Museum,- Karin Cooke and Geoff Armitage in the British Library Map Library; Harold Carter and his assistants in the Banks Archive,- Miss Fitzgerald and her assistants at Kew,- Mrs. McCabe, Royal Institution; Gina Douglas, Linnean Society; Christine Butler, Corpus Christi College; Lavinia Wellicome at Woburn Abbey.

I have been sustained throughout by the loving support of my long-suffering children and close friends, who must frequently have felt that I'd got my priorities wrong. 8

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOLUME II

Titles, sources, dates and sizes are given in the captions

PART I

Fig. 1 Thomas Hearne Sir George Beaumont and Joseph Farington sketching a waterfall 358 Fig. 2 Robert Price A glacier on Mont Blanc 359 Fig. 3 Marc-Théodore Bourrit View of Mont Blanc 360 Fig. 4 Robert Price Two drawings of grass species 361 Fig. 5 Thomas Gainsborough Beech Trees at Foxley 362 Fig. 6 Robert Price View at Foxley 363 Fig. 7 John Baptist Malchair View at Foxley 363 Fig. 8 Robert Price View of Cynant 364 Fig. 9 Robert Price River view 364 Fig. 10 Robert Price A waterfall in Wales 365 Fig. 11 Robert Price Llanberis 365 Fig. 12 Moses Griffith Glyder Bach 366 Fig. 13 Moses Griffith Dolbadarn Castle and Snowdon 366 Fig. 14 Moses Griffith Trevaen from Glyder Bach 367 Fig. 15 Moses Griffith On Glyder Bach 368 Fig. 16 Paul Sandby Falls of the Clyde 369 Fig. 17 Paul Sandby Falls of the Clyde 369 Fig. 18 Paul Sandby Chepstow Castle 370 Fig. 19 Paul Sandby Chepstow Castle 370 Fig. 20 Paul Sandby View in the Avon Gorge 371 Fig. 21 Alexander Catcott Strata in the banks of the Wye 372 Fig. 22 Paul Sandby Briton Ferry 373 Fig. 23 Paul Sandby Dolbadarn Castle and Llanberis 374 Fig. 24 Paul Sandby Dolbadarn and Snowdon 374 Fig. 25 Samuel Buck Dobadarn Castle 375 Fig. 26 John Boydell View of Snowdon 375 Fig. 27 Paul Sandby Ancient Beech Tree 376 Fig. 28 Paul Sandby Section of the Fair Copy, Military Survey of the Highlands 377 Fig. 29 William Leybourn Plate from The Comoleat Surveyor 378 Fig. 30 Paul Sandby Castle Duart 379 Fig. 31 Paul Sandby View of Castle Duart 379 9

Fig. 32 Paul Sandby Sheet of Plans and Views of Castles 379 Fig. 33 Paul Sandby Plan of Dumbarton Castle 380 Fig. 34 Paul Sandby Survey Party near Rannoch 381 Fig. 35 Paul Sandby Survey Party near Rannoch 381 Fig. 36 Paul Sandby A young man 382 Fig. 37 Francis Cotes Paul Sandby 382 Fig. 38 Robert K. Dawson Instructions for surveyors 383 Fig. 39 Robert K. Dawson Instructions for surveyors 383 Fig. 40 John Cleveley Bou-sha-la, Staffa 384 Fig. 41 John Cleveley Bou-sha-la, Staffa 384 Fig. 42 John Cleveley Shagg's Cove, Staffa 385 Fig. 43 Paul Sandby A surveying party in the Highlands 386

PART II

Fig. 44 Anon. Sap collecting 387 Fig. 45 Anon. A forest glade 388 Fig 46 Dionysius Ehret Cedar of Lebanon 389 Fig. 47 Peter de Wint The Golynos Oak 390 Fig. 48 Samuel H. Grimm The Greendale Oak 391 Fig. 49 William Burgh The Cowthorpe Oak 392 Fig. 50 Hayman Rooke The Greendale Oak 393 Fig. 51 Thomas Hearne View at Downton 394 Fig. 52 Jacob George Strutt The Gospel Oak 395 Fig. 53 Jacob George Strutt The Greendale Oak 395 Fig. 54 Jacob George Strutt The Bull Oak 396 Fig. 55 Jacob George Strutt The Cowthorpe Oak 396 Fig. 56 Humphry Repton Artificial and natural tree groups 397 Fig. 57 Humphry Repton View of Woburn Abbey 397 Fig. 58 Humphry Repton Trade Card 398 Fig. 59 William Gilpin Spruce 399 Fig. 60 William Gilpin A clump of trees 399 Fig. 61 Jacob George Strutt The Abbot's Oak 400 Fig. 62 Jacob George Strutt The Wallace Oak 401 Fig. 63 Alexander Nasmyth The Wallace Oak 401 Fig. 64 Jacob George Strutt The Ankerwyke Yew 402 Fig. 65 Jacob George Strutt The Tutbury Wych Elm 403 Fig. 66 Jacob George Strutt Wych Elms at Polloc 403 10

Fig. 67 Jacob George Strutt Wych Elm at Bagot's Mill 403 Fig. 68 'Mr. Kidd' Two oak trees 404 Fig. 69 Henry W. Burgess Oak Trees in Windsor Forest 405 Fig. 70 Henry W. Burgess Beech Trees in Knowle Park 406 Fig. 71 S.H. Williams Oak tree 407 Fig. 72 'Whimper' Elm tree 407 Fig. 73 John Claudius Loudon Symbols denoting deciduous and evergreen trees 408 Fig. 74 John Claudius Loudon Symbols to denote the oak 408 Fig. 75 P.J.F. Turpin Several tree species 409 Fig. 76 Anon. Coconut tree 410 Fig. 77 Jacob George Strutt Two oaks 411 Fig. 78 Jacob George Strutt An oak 411 Fig. 79 George Lewis Cedar of Lebanon 412 Fig. 80 George Lewis Oak at Tiberton 412 Fig. 81 William A. Nesfield Scotch Pine 413 Fig. 82 Henry le Jeune American Ash 413 Fig. 83 'Miss M.L.' Marsh Oak 414

PART III

Fig. 84 Alexander Cozens Three species of Fir 415 Fig. 85 Alexander Cozens Three deciduous trees 416 Fig. 86 Alexander Cozens Two species of Willow 417 Fig. 87 John Baptist Malchair A country lane and trees 418 Fig. 88 John Baptist Malchair Demonstration drawings 419 Fig. 89 John Baptist Malchair Stone Pine 420 Fig. 90 Alexander Cozens Stone Pine 420 Fig. 91 John Constable A copse 421 Fig. 92 John Constable Fir trees at Hampstead 421 Fig. 93 John Constable Elm trees 422 Fig. 94 John Baptist Malchair View near Salisbury 423 Fig. 95 William Crotch Diagrammatic study of trees 424 Fig. 96 William Crotch Anatomy of a tree 424 Fig. 97 Sir George Beaumont View of house and trees 425 Fig. 98 Sir George Beaumont Waterfall 425 Fig. 99 William Gilpin Sprays of various deciduous trees 426 Fig.100 William Gilpin Examples of distant trees 427 11

Fig.101 William Craig Pollard Willows 428 Fig.102 William Craig Stages in drawing willows 429 Fig.103 William Craig Stages in drawing firs 429 Fig.104 William Craig Parts of various trees 430 Fig.105 John Laporte View at Shalfleet 431 Fig.106 John Laporte Ash and Oak 431 Fig.107 Louis Francia Parts of various trees 432 Fig.108 John Laporte Parts of various trees 433 Fig.109 Louis Francia Fairlop Oak 434 Fig.110 Louis Francia Ash in the New Forest 434 Fig.Ill Edward Kennion Parts of the oak 435 Fig.112 Edward Kennion Parts of the oak 435 Fig.113 Edward Kennion Parts of the oak 436 Fig.114 Edward Kennion Parts of the elm 437 Fig.115 Edward Kennion Oaks in a landscape 438 Fig.116 Edward Kennion Landscape with trees 438 Fig.117 Edward Kennion Parts of the ash 439 Fig.118 Edward Kennion Parts of the elm 439 Fig.119 Jacob George Strutt Spray of oak 440 Fig.120 Jacob George Strutt Touch of oak 440 Fig.121 James Duffield Harding Preliminary drawings 441 Fig.122 James Duffield Harding Preliminary drawings 442 Fig.123 James Duffield Harding Shading for oak and ash 443 Fig.124 James Duffield Harding Oak and ash 443 Fig.125 James Duffield Harding Beech in Knowle Park 444 Fig.126 James Duffield Harding Characters of ash, willow and oak 445 Fig.127 George Barnard The touch for various trees 446 Fig.128 George Barnard Ash and oak 446 Fig.129 John Ruskin Foliage spray 'after Turner' 447 Fig.130 John Ruskin Foliage spray 'after Titian' 447 Fig.131 John Ruskin Foliage spray 'after Caracci' 447 Fig.132 John Claudius Loudon Chart for drawing trees to scale 448 Fig.133 M . Lejeune Scale drawings of foliage 449 Fig.134 M. Lejeune Instructions for foliage masses 449 Fig.135 M. Lejeune Instructions for foliage 449 Fig.136 John Constable Study of an ash tree 450 Fig.137 John Constable Study of ash trees 450 ABBREVIATIONS

AFB Arboretum et Fruticetum Britannicum ABO Annual Biocrranhv and Obituary BL British Library BM British Museum CRO County Record Office DNB Dictionarv of National BiocrraDhy DSB Dictionary of Scientific Biocrraohy GM The Gardener's Macrazine MNH Maaazine of Natural History NGS National Gallery of Scotland NHM Natural History Museum NLW National Library of Wales NMW National Museum of Wales OS Ordnance Survey maps PRO Public Record Office 2J Ouarterlv Journal of Science. Literature and the Arts V&A Victoria and Albert Museum WRO Warwick Records Office 13

INTRODUCTION

This thesis explores the relationship of landscape painting to scientific endeavour in Britain from around the middle of the eighteenth century to the middle of the nineteenth. It argues that painters studied the landscape within the context of natural history and should therefore be regarded as field naturalists whose innovative skills are also linked to laboratory experimentation. It is divided into three parts, connected by the main theme of landscape painters learning to draw from nature. Part I describes situations in which painters worked with naturalists in the field, learning from them and behaving like them. Part II is concerned with attitudes to trees - another area of potential mutual interest - and with tree drawing from nature, and shows who wanted such depictions and why. It explains why such drawings were provided by landscape painters rather than botanical artists, a circumstance which has never been investigated. In Part III the experimental aspects of the sophisticated processes and special skills peculiar to drawing living trees are considered.

The basic assumption underlying naturalism is that phenomena such as trees and clouds and rocks are of interest in themselves and can - and should - be represented by attending directly to them. This constitutes the fundamental difference between naturalistic landscape painting and other current modes of landscape painting in Britain in the period: ideal (or classic) landscape, topography, and the picturesque as advocated by the inventor of the theory of picturesque beauty, William Gilpin. This thesis contends that from the middle of the eighteenth century landscape painters found models for the study of nature in the fieldwork of their contemporaries in the natural history sciences which changed their perception of how the natural world should be portrayed. In endeavouring to find a new mode of expression which did not idealise nature, they were guided by the conventions of science rather than of art. 14

Considering their shared subject matter, it is astonishing that possible connections between naturalistic landscape painting and the natural history sciences - and in particular the well- established methodological model proffered by naturalists' field practice - have not received more attention from art historians. What is the reason for this? Natural history landscapes appear to have been dismissed as topography or considered as an entirely separate genre, irrelevant to discussions of "art"; tree studies are generally referred to simply as memoranda or preparatory material for paintings (I am not saying that they are not also those things). It seems likely that the fundamental discourse around art and aesthetics in the eighteenth century, particularly regarding ways of looking at and depicting nature, has been part of the problem. In a climate in which ideas of taste determined what were suitable subjects for literature and art, and in which art was expected to be morally uplifting (which required nature to be improved upon or idealised) attending directly to "common nature" was unacceptable. Landscapes which delineated a particular spot were still being dismissed as "map work" in the 1820s.1

Such dominant views appear to have obscured the importance of science in the cultural life of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, and of what Barbara Maria Stafford referred to as "the scientific gaze", defined as "the ability to see in order to acquire knowledge.... which breaks the mould of thinking of landscape as a picture".2 Her all-encompassing approach to eighteenth-century natural history and travel illustration has demonstrated the effect of the scientific gaze in terms of product. My concern is chiefly with process. It is the element of study - of empirical, exploratory enquiry - which

1. Henry Fuseli, Professor of Painting, Royal Academy (1829 p. 185). 2. 1984 p p . 33-52. Stafford was one of the first to consider the relationship between the "dictates of science" and the rise of naturalism (pp. 16-17 and p 52). Bernard Smith has shown how the perception of artists on expeditions to the south pacific from 1768 was affected by the empirical nature of the scientific enquiries which took place (1985 p. 3). The first two chapters of Smith's book are particularly relevant to discussions in Part I. 15

constitutes the radical difference between naturalism and other contemporary modes of landscape painting.3 By taking a more intimate and detailed look at some field collaborations, and by analysing the process of tree drawing, I will attempt to determine what studying nature, guided by the conventions of natural history, entailed.

Few art historians really understand what science was like at the time - particularly in the field - and this has precluded extending the discussion around landscape painting into this area. Historians of science, spurred on especially by Martin Rudwick's insights into the value of visual communication in geology, and David Gooding's reconstructions of Faraday's experiments from his laboratory notebooks, are increasingly aware of the importance of visual records in scientific enquiry.

Twenty years ago Conal Shields wrote: the rise of landscape painting in Britain during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries is surely amongst the most remarkable episodes of cultural history, yet it is a phenomenon for which, so far, no convincing account can be given.4 This still seems to be the case, in particular with regard to the origins of naturalism. The term 'naturalism' is tricky but is commonly applied in the history of art to much nineteenth- century British landscape painting, with Constable - who considered his own work in terms of "natural painture"5 - the accepted exemplar of the genre. I use it in a sense which I believe to be compatible with this and valid for the empirical type of investigation just mentioned. For instance, a tree drawing is naturalistic if it conveys the impression of being a living plant belonging to a particular genus (requiring an understanding of its general characters), which can be compared with the viewer's actual experience of growing trees. In contrast, ideal landscape presents a generalised image of how a

3. See also Klonk, who considers natural history landscapes in terms of phenomenalism (PhD Thesis 1992; forthcoming Yale University Press) 4. Parris 1973 (Introduction p. 9). 5. Letter to John Dunthorne 29 May 1802, quoted Leslie 1951 p. 15. 16

tree should look. There was no sudden or universal acceptance of naturalism; working direct from nature was not common practice until well into the nineteenth century and 'progress' was uneven and by fits and starts.

The main purpose of Part I is to demonstrate that naturalism is rooted in the processes embedded in the direct study of nature and to show the active and exploratory nature of such processes. From the middle of the eighteenth century landscape painters in Britain who engaged in this study were governed by the conventions of the natural history sciences and emulated its field practices. Part I also establishes a framework for the discussion of attitudes to trees and the analysis of tree drawing from nature, including the special skills this required, which form the subject-matter of Parts II and III.

To provide concrete evidence for my argument, instances of landscape painters working with naturalists in the field between 1741 and 1773 are considered. The principal naturalists involved - Sir Joseph Banks, William Roy and Thomas Pennant - shared a highly developed visual sense and an awareness of the power of visual communication. The painters - Robert Price, Moses Griffith and Paul Sandby RA, all contributed to branches of natural history. Their drawings and practice also provided models for those who followed them, both within natural history and for the emerging genre of naturalistic landscape painting. All the protagonists have been the focus of varying degrees of research and interpretation but my concern is primarily with the artists' learning process in the field and its effect on their vision and practice. Rudwick's criticisms of eighteenth-century natural history landscapes are considered.

In Chapter One eighteenth-century attitudes to nature and to its depiction are first outlined, in particular the ideas which shaped the types and styles of academic landscape painting. The landscapes which resulted from these collaborations will be seen to have evolved from topographical and antiquarian traditions of depiction. They differ, however, in being motivated and focussed 17

by the "scientific gaze" of the naturalists and by the involvement and increasing awareness of the artists themselves in natural history. Landscapes could disseminate information in a vivid way; in the context of the earth sciences, they could also suggest answers to puzzling questions concerning the structure of the earth's crust, making them potentially useful to support or challenge theories. I argue that, in addition to emphasising the empirical nature of the fieldwork, their principal value to the naturalists lay in their ability to convey specific localities.

Price, a landed gentleman, contributed to alpine, botanical and agrarian research, undertook early botanizing and sketching tours and was also a patron of other artists. A very different aspect of collaborative fieldwork is exemplified by the master- servant relationship of Thomas Pennant and Moses Griffith, whose name appears on a great many of the natural history illustrations and landscapes which adorn the works of the traveller-naturalist. As for Sandby, already the subject of much scholarly research, the starting point for investigation was my desire for a more convincing explanation of the sources of his naturalism. This led me to look more closely at his earliest landscapes (drawn while working with William Roy on the Military Survey of the Highlands from 1747-1751) and at his later association with Joseph Banks. Chapter Two concentrates on these two distinct areas of fieldwork, both crucial to Sandby's approach to the depiction of landscape. The Highlands experience was formative in this respect, while I believe his association with Banks and other naturalists kept his vision focussed firmly on the natural world when most other academicians continued to idealise it.

It will have been noticed that I have included Roy, a surveyor, under the umbrella term 'naturalist'. Given the acknowledged extent of interaction between the different areas of investigation of the natural world at this time, surveying practice in the middle of the century had much in common with field natural history. The erection of boundaries around these various discourses overlooks the broad interests of many eighteenth-century naturalists and also marginalises the important role of visual communication in the acquisition and dissemination of knowledge.

Part II is devoted to a specific area of interest to both naturalists and landscape painters: the knowledge and depiction of trees. Considering that trees are members of the plant kingdom and prominent features of actual and drawn landscape, they have received little attention from historians of science or art. My research has revealed that depictions of whole trees are rare in botanical works since botanists were chiefly concerned with taxonomy and concentrated on the reproductive parts. In fact, landscape painters were virtually unique in studying living trees and their knowledge of them appears greater than that of any British botanist until the 1830s.

In Chapters Three and Four some of the discourses around trees, from the publication of John Evelyn's Svlva in 1664 to the eight volumes of John Claudius Loudon's encyclopaedia Arboretum et Fruticeturn Britannicum (1835-38), are considered. During this period trees emerged from the familiar insignificance of everyday life into prominence, not only in landscape but also in the worlds of commerce, art and science. From wild nature to the plantation and the garden, their properties and their visual attributes were increasingly exploited and appreciated; they were also classified, studied and drawn. The works discussed here helped to instigate these changes.

Topographers and landscape painters comprise only one group among several who were concerned with trees and their depiction. They were also of consequence to politicians, men of science and landowners, to those actively engaged in agriculture, horticulture, forestry, landscape gardening and natural history, and to tourists and travel writers, antiquaries, aestheticians, patrons of art, print and book sellers. Their value to each group derived from its own particular concerns, although these - generally economic, aesthetic or scientific - often overlapped; 19

tree drawings from nature were important resources, including portraits of ancient trees. The main concern of all the treatises discussed in Chapter Three is with planting. The attitudes to trees of those who promoted, invested in and profited from planting and of those who carried it out, are considered.

From the first, the Royal Society played a significant role in extending knowledge of trees, and their place and role in the plant kingdom. Evelyn's Sylva, produced under its aegis, was outstandingly effective in encouraging tree planting. Alexander Hunter's inclusion of botanical information relating to their classification in his editions of the work probably encouraged other Fellows who followed Linnaeus (including Fellows of the Linnean Society) to produce further works on forest trees. Fellows who were also landowners did not necessarily confine themselves to profit-making but often developed aesthetic and scientific interests in them as well. A more general emphasis on the practical aspects of planting and propagation necessitated greater knowledge of trees' growth and appearance; it came to be expected that representations should exhibit the distinguishing characters of each type.

In most eighteenth-century ideal or topographical landscapes, trees are of no interest in themselves and merely provide appropriate adjuncts to a prospect, or to the architecture and antiquities being recorded. If not idealised, they are either slightly indicated or depicted in the same hard, precise lines as the main features,- in both cases they are devoid of understanding of the trees' characters. However, depictions gradually reveal a shift in awareness; trees come to be perceived as living plants of particular types, the "meagre truth" of the topographer giving way to a study of structure and growth.

Chapter Four looks at tree drawing in the context of picturesque theories of landscape gardening and painting, and of natural history practice. The publication in 1791 of Remarks on Forest 20

Scenery, by William Gilpin, leading authority on the picturesque aesthetic, was hugely significant for the depiction of trees. In many respects it is reminiscent of Svlva. but Gilpin drew the attention of artists to trees as "the foundation of all scenery". While advocating that nature should be improved upon, his close observations of living trees encouraged landscape painters to study trees for themselves and to take a naturalistic approach in representing them. Naturalism and the post-Gilpin picturesque were not necessarily incompatible. Some important series of tree drawings resulted, notably those by Jacob George Strutt in the 1820s, which were considered exemplars by artists and botanists. It will be apparent that the authority of his representations is achieved by an extensive knowledge of structure and growth, and his skill in depicting these. Increasing demand for tree drawing from nature encouraged further systematic study of trees by landscape painters, who attempted to combine Strutt's faithful representation with a greater freedom of handling.

The subject of Chapter Five is botany and trees. It came as a surprise to find that whole trees - the largest and longest- lived members of the plant kingdom - were virtually ignored by botanists and their artists. However, the logic of this quickly became apparent: the concentration by British botanists on classifying plants according to the Linnaean sexual system required knowledge only of the parts of fructification.

An examination of botanical art and drawing books shows that, as might be expected, they provided neither models nor practical help for tree drawing from nature. Botanists in the late 1820s and 1830s, on the whole critical of representations of trees by landscape painters, nevertheless came to make use of them, and looked to those painters, such as Strutt, whose drawings showed essential characters and general patterns rather than individual peculiarities - in other words, whose methods paralleled their own practice. Loudon's concern with identification of species and accuracy of depiction, led him to supervise or train the 21

landscape painters he employed to produce the hundreds of scale drawings of whole trees for the Arboretum.

Why did some British botanists become interested in living trees and depictions of them in the late 1820s and early 1830s? Two significant factors emerge: the increasing adoption of the natural system of classification and the movement to make British botany more 'philosophical' in line with changes already occurring on the Continent, especially in France where Augustin- Pyramus de Candolle adapted the theories of Geoffroy Saint- Hilaire's philosophical anatomy to botany. For the first time the entire plant was relevant, for instance, taxonomic criteria were extended to allow consideration of a greater number of defining characters. Advocates of the natural system, including John Lindley and Loudon, encouraged field studies and the planting and use of botanical gardens and arboretums. Philosophical botany, which has not been discussed before in its British manifestation (but which can only be briefly considered in the context of this thesis) instilled a theoretical element previously lacking. It aimed to establish the laws which govern the plant kingdom and was also concerned with the physiology and morphology of the whole plant, seeking an explanation of external form and its transformations through the investigation of the structure and function of internal organs. Concern with the structure of the stem or trunk (as an organ of nutrition) involved trees in the debate; ancient trees were of particular interest and depictions stood proxy for them, suggesting age, size and species. Landscape painters provided these and other drawings which were used in lectures and botanical works, contributing significantly to extending the botanical discourse around trees.

In Part III an analysis of the "how" of tree drawing from nature reveals a highly sophisticated process involving an exploratory type of experimentation. Recognition of this allows a better understanding of Constable's assertion that paintings might be thought of as experiments. The importance of the active processes by which experimenters engage with the world has been 22

emphasised by recent developments in the history, philosophy and psychology of science. Concern to recapture the steps by which discoveries are made has rekindled interest in craft and tacit skills which are also common to artistic practice.

Scrutinizing paintings or drawings of trees from nature can indicate the depth of the artists' study and how successful they have been in representing a particular genus or species, but generally little can be surmised about the methods used. How can we understand the problems faced and the visual and manual skills which were brought to bear in solving them? One way is to examine how tree drawing was taught, since teaching material reflects prevailing attitudes and aims as well as demonstrating or describing methods; if available over a long period it can also help to establish a time-scale of change. Fortunately manuals on tree drawing by landscape painters were quite numerous in the late eighteenth century and throughout the nineteenth. In addition to providing further evidence that landscape painters were in the vanguard in studying trees, they extend an aspect of the treatises: concern with their appearance.

The preoccupations and aims of the authors, particularly dissatisfaction with the prevailing treatment of trees in landscape painting and how they should be drawn, are revealed. The fundamental premise of all the manuals, which indicates the extent to which naturalism differs from other modes of depiction, is that a tree can and should only be represented by paying strict attention to the tree itself. Nature is to be the guide and arbiter, rather than any pre-ordained treatment being imposed, either according to past conventions of landscape painting or springing from the imagination. They also provide fascinating insights into the processes involved in tree drawing and the problems faced by the authors: how to study the trees and acquire the necessary skills to draw them without adequate models in art or botany, how to persuade others to look directly at nature, and how to communicate knowledge and new skills. 23

These manuals suggest that tree drawing from nature in the period from 1770 to c. 1860 occurred in three phases which I call innovation, consolidation and consensus. This categorisation is merely a tool, however, and must not be taken as implying an overall steady progression in naturalistic drawing. Even acceptance of the need to study the trees did not instantly produce artists with sufficient understanding or abilities to draw them naturalistically. Each artist had to learn for him or herself, as one might learn to draw a figure from life without previous experience, and continual practice over a long period was usually necessary (which still applies, of course). It is clear, however, that the notion that the natural world could and should be represented truthfully, from requiring at first to be strongly asserted, came gradually to be accepted, and by the middle of the nineteenth century was taken for granted.

Chapters Six and Seven trace and explain these phases. The earliest manuals reveal an awareness of the complexity of trees and that only by paying close attention to them could their defining characters be understood and depicted. In attempting to communicate this, and suggesting approaches to drawing from nature, they were truly innovatory since few landscape painters at this stage had attempted to treat trees naturalistically, let alone transformed their knowledge and practice into teaching material. The early nineteenth-century works contributed further important insights into the characters of different species,- they also consolidated and greatly improved teaching methods by taking a more systematic approach, analysing the various parts - or "elements" - to increase knowledge of the whole. The consensus discernible in the later manuals relates to an acceptance of the naturalistic mode and of the need to understand the trees as living organisms. Innovation occurred less frequently, but techniques were continually refined.

With little precedent in their field, these author-artists had to teach themselves before they could instruct others. The manuals therefore embody two stages of tree study: the artists' 24

individual learning process in the field and their communication of the insights and skills acquired. It will be apparent that the second stage is dependent on the first, which involved intensive study and experiment with different drawing techniques. The success of the manuals as teaching aids would have depended largely on the conviction with which these ideas and their practical application were communicated. The authors constantly reiterate the connection between knowing how to see and how to produce a faithful representation. It is important to be aware that these painters were not working in isolation; they all exhibited landscapes and had connections with other professionals, and their amateur students were often very influential.

The final chapter argues that the process of tree drawing, and particularly the learning and communicating of new skills, went beyond the observation and recording usually associated with natural history field practice. The systematic investigation of tree foliage, which involved special craft and tacit skills, constitutes an exploratory type of experiment in many ways analogous to that seen in recent studies of laboratory experimentation. The manuals allow us to reconstruct the visual and manual skills by which these artists strove - like their contemporaries in science - for an understanding of the natural world. They demonstrate how knowledge of trees and the necessary skills to depict them were acquired, and could only be acquired, in the activity of drawing direct from nature - and how these were refined and communicated to others. Discussion centres round the "touch", devised to deal with problems presented by the different types of foliage. While close observation revealed distinctions, only systematic exploration with the pencil of the various leaf configurations could suggest the means of representing their specific characters. The pencil is used as an exploratory tool, the eye, hand and mind working together to inform each other in a process of learning by doing. Creation of the touch made it possible to bridge the gap between perception and representation; truth and touch are linked since the touch for each type of foliage is not arbitrarily chosen but is derived from the character of the foliage of each species.

This study demonstrates the shared repertoire of skills inherent in the practices of the artist, the laboratory experimenter and the field naturalist. Historians of science are beginning to appreciate this but art historians are on the whole unused to associating the familiar processes of painting and drawing with science.6 More generally, while the creative aspects of the artistic process are recognised as vital, creativity in science is still often treated as if it were confined to theorising. We are discouraged from seeing possible correspondences by our modern view of two divided cultures, a state which, however, has not always existed. Detailed analysis of these processes and skills should also increase our understanding of visual communication. In historical terms, the manuals help us to clarify more specifically the meaning of naturalism, in particular its derivation from a direct study of nature. Rather than being merely the mode of working of a few, the study of trees and other natural phenomena increasingly became the sine qua non of "natural painture".

6. An exception is Martin Kemp, but his studies have mainly focussed on the Renaissance. 26

PART I Sketching in the Field: collaboration between landscape painters and naturalists in the eighteenth century

The use of travelling is to regulate imagination by reality and instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are. - Samuel Johnson1

Part I of this thesis argues that before the middle of the eighteenth century field naturalists provided motivation and methodological models to enable landscape painters to study rather than to idealise nature. Evidence for this claim is to be found in field collaborations between artists and naturalists between 1741 and 1773 which, as might be expected, reveal a very different approach to the depiction of landscape from that advocated by the art establishment. The differing backgrounds and interests of the protagonists and some unusual circumstances surrounding the fieldwork, provide a varied survey.

My concern is primarily with the artists' learning process in the field, the effect of close engagement with the landscape on their vision and practice, and the importance of their depictions to the naturalists. For this reason, the questions I have asked differ from those previously posed. For instance: What did the naturalists expect of the artists in relation to the aims of their fieldwork and in the specific circumstances in which they were working? why was a particular artist chosen and what guidance or instructions was he given? How might observing naturalists going about their fieldwork have affected the artists' attitude to nature and their practice? In terms of the visual contributions made by these artists, what resulted specifically from working with the naturalists and what aspects developed from their artistic training? What innovations in methods of depiction were made and were these, as well as the actual productions, likely to have been available as models for those who followed?

1. Letter to Mrs. Thrale 21 September 1773 (Works Vol. XIV p. 139). 27

In Chapter One I first consider attitudes to nature, art and aesthetics in the eighteenth century which affected the perception of landscape and how it should be viewed and depicted. It will be apparent that against a background of ideas of improving on nature and of the moral purpose of painting, a naturalistic treatment was not an option. Several factors which helped to change such attitudes, and as a result contributed to the eventual acceptance of a naturalistic approach, will be glanced at. The field collaborations discussed in this chapter share some similarities but the painters present interesting contrasts. Robert Price was socially equal or superior to his naturalist associates; Moses Griffith, on the other hand, was the pupil and paid servant of his. Their respective journeys with the traveller-naturalists Richard Pococke and Thomas Pennant reveal some of the possibilities which were opened up for natural history and the depiction of landscape through travel.2

In the history of mountain exploration and fieldwork, the 1741 expedition to the glaciers near Chamonix, in which Robert Price participated with Pococke and Benjamin Stillingfleet and contributed a striking on-the-spot drawing, must hold a special place. Landowner, patron, connoisseur, collector of prints and amateur artist, Price epitomises the cultured gentleman with the means to pursue his interests. These appear to have been mainly connected with the improvement of his estate and with the observation or representation of nature. He encouraged Stillingfleet, first translator of Linnaeus into English, in his botanical researches and contributed drawings to a book on grasses; they undertook sketching and botanizing tours together in remote areas of north Wales. In contrast, Moses Griffith came from a humble background and scraped a living as Pennant's paid employee, his work being closely supervised by the naturalist, who insisted always on direct and truthful representations of nature. This study also reveals the importance Pennant attached to visual communication and the value he placed on Griffith's

2. On this subject, see Porter 1977, especially p p . 113 and 142. 28

depictions for his Tours. The landscapes of Price and Griffith are mainly of local interest now but what they owe to natural history and contributed to it is worthy of notice.

Chapter Two concentrates on the two distinct areas of fieldwork in which Paul Sandby participated. Although chronologically later, Sandby's association with Joseph Banks is considered first because it is similar to the examples discussed in Chapter One, except that in this case both protagonists already had established reputations in their respective fields. While his connection with Banks was not formative, its significance must not be underestimated; it provided him with a continuing awareness of the study of nature associated with the practice, and particularly the fieldwork, of the naturalist. My subsequent assessment of Sandby's early experience with the Highland Survey - he was the first British painter to work in the Scottish Highlands - should assist in explaining the value of his productions to naturalists such as Banks and Pennant, a subject which has scarcely been touched upon. Landscapes conveyed the specific locality of fieldwork, information regarding the terrain, and even, on occasions, complex ideas. The artist's ability to express depth and tonal differences - a skill topographers generally lacked - increased their cognitive value.

Sandby s experience of learning to draw in the field, supervised by Colonel Watson and William Roy, shares certain features with the Griffith-Pennant model. Roy's inclusion here as a naturalist will be justified by the extent to which, in the eighteenth century, surveyors shared the broad interests and techniques of most others engaged in investigation of the natural world. However, military surveying had specific aims and these, with surveying procedures and the locations of the Survey, will be seen to have shaped Sandby's later practice as a landscape painter. The purpose of sketching from nature in military surveying is assessed by considering how it was taught, casting further light on Sandby's role in the field. 29

It must be stressed that although these were among the earliest collaborations, they were not isolated cases. Apart from Banks and his numerous botanical and topographical artists, there are several other instances of mutually beneficial co-operation. Among these, John Webber, RA, official artist on Captain Cook's last voyage, and the mineralogist, William Day - nicknamed "Rocky" Day - travelled and drew together in the Peak District and Snowdonia in the 1780s and 1790s; Day exhibited at the Royal Academy from 1791 to 1805.3 A significant role was played by landscapes in investigations of strata and the collaboration in the 1780s between John Clerk of Eldin and James Hutton may have been more important than has been recognised, since Clerk's "early interest in the pursuits of mineralogy" and his study of "the surface as well as the interior of the earth" occasioned by his mining concerns, possibly predated Hutton's.4 Clerk accompanied Hutton on several tours in the 1780s in search of evidence for the latter's theories and his artistic abilities seem to have convinced Hutton of the value of using landscapes to assist the communication of his observations and ideas. Referring to the etchings in the 1795 edition of Theory of the Earth, John Playfair concludes that "Mr. Clerk's pencil was ever at the command of his friend and has certainly rendered him most essential service".5

Other associations between landscape painters and naturalists include Samuel Hieronymus Grimm and Gilbert White, Joseph Wright of Derby and John Whitehurst; in the next century, James Skene and George Greenough, first President of the Geological

3. See Egerton 1970 p p . 176-185. 4. Playfair 1797 p. 59. See also Craig 1978 pp. 6-14. Sketching expeditions with Sandby and Robert Adam 1747-1754 (Harrison 1990 p. 34 [although Sandby left Edinburgh in 1751]) are likely to have made Clerk aware of surface evidence complementing observations of strata in his family's mines; he may possibly have seen some of Sandby's drawings of rock faces, which will be considered here. See Madeleine Pinault on the fundamental role of mineralogy in transforming the art of landscape towards the end of the century (1991 p. 240) . 5. 1797 p. 59, where Playfair also suggests that it was a mutually beneficial collaboration. 30

Society.6 A few geologists, such as Henry De la Beche and John MacCulloch, being excellent landscape artists themselves, were able to illustrate their own works. This indicates the importance of field sketches in 'standing in' for locations, objects or phenomena which cannot be removed from their situation, and for communicating concepts difficult to describe in words.7

6 . On Grimm and White see Clay 1941; on Wright and Whitehurst see Fraser 1988 p p . 119-141 and Daniels 1993, especially p p . 57-61. 7. See Rudwick on this latter point (1976 p. 151). This difficulty is epitomised in the experience of meteorologist Luke Howard, whose own studies of cloud formations were probably essential in communicating his cloud nomenclature ('On the Modification of Clouds’ Philosophical Maoazine 1803 Vol. XVI pp. 97-107; Plates Vol. XVII p p . 344-357). 31

CHAPTER ONE

From idealising to studying nature

Aesthetics and the improving ethos

Before moving to the main discussion of the fieldwork, I will sketch in some of the circumstances which affected attitudes to nature and its depiction.

Early eighteenth-century aesthetics were mainly based on Aristotle's poetics: theories of poetry and drama. Dryden had previously expressed the improving ethos when he said that "a play, to be like Nature is to be set above it".8 Dr. Johnson famously declared in Rasselas (1759) that the general rather than the particular must be attended to and insisted on the importance of "decorum". The dominant question became that of taste, or the appreciation of beauty, and with establishing rules for it;9 innumerable treatises on the subject were written and endlessly discussed.

Landscape painting in England, as a branch of fine art, took the classic works of Claude Lorrain and Nicholas Poussin (and later Gaspard Dughet) as its model: nature must be improved upon, in fact, idealised.10 Richard Wilson was Britain's chief exponent of this genre, called the Grand Style. Although Wilson's work was appreciated, and occasionally bought, by many landscape painters including Joseph Farington (his pupil), Sir George Beaumont, Paul Sandby, John Constable, Wright of Derby,11 it

8. An Essay of Dramatic Poeav 1693 p. 45. 9. See Barren's chapter 'The Republic of Taste' (1986 p p . 1-68). 10. See, for example, Sir Joshua Reynolds 1770 Discourses (1905 edition, Third, pp. 49-65; Thirteenth, p p . 349-369). 11 . See Farington's Diary 1794-97. Constable and Sandby bought many drawings by Wilson (Herrmann 1986 p. 48). 32

never sold well and he died in poverty.12 His failure, according to Sir Joshua Reynolds, President of the Royal Academy, was in standing "too near common nature".13 Claude and Poussin painted castles from their imagination, not from life; Wilson, however, turned real castles sketched on the spot into idealised visions, expressed in the glowing colours and limpid light of Italy rather than those of his native land,14 and this was no doubt the problem for Reynolds.

Real castles had been the focus of attention of topographical artists in search of subjects for prints, such as Samuel and Nathaniel Buck (from the early 1720s) and John Boydell (from 1749) and demand for such works gradually increased as the century progressed. When Sandby returned from Scotland in 1751, and before he built up his teaching practice, he earned money by selling prints; many of Wilson's works were engraved, and sold well. The best engravers were in constant demand. Wilson's main engravers, William Woollett and Boydell, were, with the leading landscape painters, founder members in 1766 of the Incorporated Society of Artists, which suggests the value of published prints to the survival of the genre.

Topographical drawings, according to Lindsay Stainton, "made up well over half the output of British watercolourists before 1800 and even after that date probably not much less than a third".15 Such works were regarded in academic circles as lacking in pictorial quality, being literal, outline representations, in general intended for engravings. Later, on-the-spot sketches

12. His large paintings of Wales and Welsh castles were acquired by the great Welsh landowners, however (Solkin 1982 p. 101) and see Chs. 4 and 5 on patrons of British artists, and Wilson in particular. On Wilson generally, see also Wright 1824; Constable 1953. Pye (1845) suggests the great difficulties faced by British landscape painters in the 1750s and 1760s with patrons preferring "foreign productions" (p. 41). 13. Discourses op. cit. p. 385. See Barrell's analysis of the Discourses (1986 pp. 69-162). 14. Joseph Farington, whom Wilson taught, attested to their topographical inaccuracy: "Wilson seldom adhered to the scene as it was" (quoted Solkin op. cit. p. 43). See also Solkin loc. cit. p. 85. 15. 1985 p. 10. See also Hardie 1967 for a full discussion of watercolour and topography. 33

were worked up in the studio and given tone and colour by means of watercolour washes.16 In bringing painters face to face with nature, topography was the route to naturalism for many who worked from nature, if not all. As Richard Redgrave declared in 1866, "the minute attention to facts and details so necessary to topographical works was a direct and valuable initiation to the careful study of nature".17

Attitudes to wild nature

Enlightenment philosophy held that all nature could be understood and controlled. The framework within which the natural world was discussed and understood was provided by such diverse spheres as theories of the earth, ideas concerning human nature (including the perfectability of man), natural history, natural theology (which held it as a duty to study God's works),18 aesthetic theory, travel literature and poetry.19

Basil Willey, among the first to describe the growing feeling for the countryside, says that Lord Shaftesbury's rapture over unspoilt nature as expressed in The Moralists (1705) "illustrates how the philosophical passion for the best-of-all- possible-worlds could... pass into fondness for 'the country’ and for what was 'natural', in contrast to town life and the 'artificial'".20 This idea of untouched nature as morally uplifting was encouraged by influential writers such as Rousseau. At first, however, wild nature - especially mountains - was thought of as terrible and dangerous.21 Perhaps the greatest influence in changing the general attitude to wild

16. Hedley 1982 p. 19. 17. 1866 (1890 edition p. 235). See also Pointon 1979 p p . 86-87. 18. On the latter, see, for example, Brooke 1991, and its extensive bibliography. 19. Although the 1790s brought the great flowering of romantic nature poetry, detailed descriptions of nature in such popular works as Thomson's Seasons (published 1726-1730) focussed attention on the visual. 20. 1940 (Peregrine edition 1967 p p . 65-67). 21. See, for example, Defoe 1724 Vol. II p p . 458-459; also Nicolson 1959, Thomas 1983 p. 158. 34

nature, and encouraging people to see aspects for themselves, was the publication in 1757 of Edmund Burke's A Philosophical Encruiry__lnto the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and the Beautiful. Burke separated these two aesthetic categories, making the recognition and appreciation of sublimity the highest ideal of aesthetic awareness and the model for which all art - not only landscape painting - should strive. Such discussions led to the development of a new appreciation of the grandest, most awe-inspiring productions of nature: mountains, torrents, oceans; a general sensibility towards nature became de rigeur. Throughout the eighteenth century as mountainous regions became more accessible they exerted a strong attraction over travellers and naturalists alike. It is therefore not surprising that all the field collaborations examined in Part I of this thesis occurred entirely or in part in such areas.

The cult of the Sublime in nature was given concrete form by the publication of such works as Sir George (later Lord) Lyttelton's An Account of a Journey into Wales. Although the journey in question took place in July 1756, it was not published until 1774, but, like many other 'Tours', was circulated earlier in manuscript form.22 Lyttelton describes Snowdonia as "a majestic solemn scene" which filled his mind with "religious awe".23 The poet Thomas Gray's Journal of his visit to the Lake District in 1769 was more widely available on its publication with his poems in 1775. Such compelling descriptions allowed those who had travelled through the Alps on the Grand Tour to focus their experience, and those who had not to relish making similar journeys in search of mountain scenery. The possibilities of the Peak and Lake Districts, of Wales and Scotland began to be more widely explored.24

22. Lyttelton visited Wales five times between 1752-1773 (Solkin 1982 p. 88). 23. 1774 pp. 234-236. 24. See, for example, Nicholson 1955; Hedley 1982; for published tours see Cox 1949. The first real guide (as opposed to letters) to the Lakes was by Thomas West in 1778; the earliest painters to work there appear to have been Stephen Penn in the 1730s (Williams 1952 p. 19) and William Bellers (f. 1750-73), whose views were engraved and published. Samuel Buck's first print of the Peak District - 'Castleton Castle and the Devil's Arse in the Peak' - was published in 1727 but some painters, for instance Jan Siberechts (1627-1703), worked there earlier (Grigson 1975 p. 32). 35

Sketching tours : pleasure and purpose

Sketching tours in search of wild or picturesque scenery or topographical views really began in earnest in the 1770s. The mountain scenery depicted by Salvator Rosa (1615-73) was becoming popular in Britain and landscape painters began to represent the mountainous areas of their homeland, realising no doubt that such scenes would find a ready market among wealthy patrons.25 At first remote areas could only be reached on foot or horseback; travellers, including naturalists and artists, who lingered, were sometimes taken for spies or tax-gatherers.26 Although main routes improved with the introduction of toll roads, coaches were still very uncomfortable and robberies common. Diaries and letters reveal the extent to which all travellers off the beaten track, from mid-eighteenth century, exchanged information, asked and received advice about routes and accommodation, read and discussed published Tours and guides.27 By the 1790s travellers were completely cut off from the continent by revolution, further encouraging expeditions at home.

Apart from Burke's work, the Rev. William Gilpin's (1724-1804) various Essays and Tours were perhaps the chief new influence on eighteenth-century aesthetics and travel. Although the Tours were not published until the 1790s, they described journeys undertaken earlier and circulated in manuscript form during the previous decade. Gilpin's theory of picturesque beauty provided another category for the understanding, contemplation - and depiction - of nature. Certain scenes - for instance, some types of rural scenery or antiquities and architectural subjects in landscape settings - could not be deemed either sublime or beautiful but nevertheless possessed particular qualities of picturesqueness. By following Gilpin's rules 'real views' could

25. See Howard 1991 pp. 10-20, and generally on tours. 26. See Allen 1978 pp. 23-24; S.H. Grimm in Northumberland 1778 (quoted Hedley 1982 p. 74). 27. See Farington's Diary, for instance 22.1.1796, 18.8.1797, 27.7.1799. 36

also be given the picturesque treatment, thus distinguishing them from topography, with its emphasis on accuracy and unadorned outline. We can see the improving ethos at work in Gilpin's comment that "nature is ever most defective in composition"; therefore you can "take up a tree... or pare a knoll...",28 but he also pointed out the "infinite variety" of nature: "no two rocks, or trees are exactly the same".29

It is not necessary to consider Gilpin's works in detail here, and in any case most were written well after the fieldwork which is the main theme of this section,- Remarks on Forest Scenery (1791) will be discussed in later chapters. However, his essay on 'Sketching Landscape' of 1792 contains remarks and instructions on the subject which are helpful in understanding the motivation behind many sketching tours (although the drawing process involving close study of nature is more complex and specifically directed, as we shall see later). Thomas Gray's assertion that "half a word on or near the spot is worth all our recollected ideas" is applied by Gilpin to sketching from nature,30 an acknowledgement of the great value of such sketching in what John Murdoch has called its "primary contact with the object".31 Gilpin stresses that "the original ideas may be lost" if the first sketch is worked up into a finished drawing; he concedes, however, that with a "free and expressive touch" some memorandum sketches can be masterpieces.32

Emphasis is laid on the sketch as an aide mémoire, no doubt because there was little plein air painting at first, and travelling might only allow time for a quick drawing. Exactness of delineation, Gilpin declares, is the province of the finished drawing and the picture,- hasty sketches - enough to "catch the characteristic features of a scene" and "express the general

28. Three Essays (on Picturesque Beauty, Picturesque Travel and Sketching Landscape) 1792 pp. 67-68. Constable owned a copy (Parris et al 1975 p. 31) 29. Ibid. p. 42. 30. Ibid. p. 64. 31. 1984b p. 54. See also Petherbridge on first thoughts (1991 p. 12). 32. Op. cit. p p . 67 and 74. 37

shapes and relations between them" are all that is required in a "memorandum sketch" for the artist himself. An "adorned sketch", intended "to convey in some degree our ideas to others", requires more, however: "a degree of correctness and expression in the outline... some effect of light... and ornament". All finishing, such as the addition of washes and tonal effects, or colour, is executed in the studio. The sketch "admits the winding river, the shooting promontory, the castle, the abbey, the flat distance and the mountain melting into the horizon... and the relation these parts bear to each other... but it descends not to the minutiae of objects," the province of the "finished drawing and the picture". Gilpin did not advocate a naturalistic treatment of landscape features, nor were picturesque artists expected to engage with nature to the extent of examining its productions really closely. He did suggest, however, that the "study of nature" could refine the taste and "help to furnish fresh sources both of pleasure and amusement".33 Ideas on the picturesque continued to evolve well into the nineteenth century and many later naturalistic landscapes may also be picturesque since picturesque conventions of landscape composition (in which features could be moved or altered) were combined with a naturalistic treatment of the subject matter. In addition, some scenery and elements of landscape which are characteristically picturesque might still - as will be shown in a later chapter - be subject to close observation.

During the eighteenth century the focus of attention in landscape shifted from the distant to the near at hand,34 resulting in a greater awareness of the complexity of natural features, and often engendering a desire to portray these with more understanding. The images occasioned by a such a shift obviously differed from those in the categories of strict

3 3 . Ibid. pp. 66-78, 85-86 and 57-58. 34. Compare John Murdoch's discussion of this (1984b p p . 45-46), although I believe that the shift began earlier than he suggests. This paper and the catalogue The Discovery of the Lake District (1984a) are very interesting and helpful for the early nineteenth century. 38

topography or classical (ideal) landscape, in which a high and/or distant viewpoint was common, with natural scenery usually playing a purely supportive role.35 In such works, the eye is drawn to the horizon,-36 in close-up images, the eye is invited to dwell on individual features.

In 1777 the topographer Thomas Hearne (1744-1817) accompanied Sir George Beaumont and Joseph Farington on their first tour of the Lake District.37 As the first serious connoisseurs, they were very influential in encouraging other artists and tourists to follow them.38 Hearne's delightful drawing (Fig. 1) of his patrons sketching a waterfall at close quarters is an example of the new type of image I have been discussing; it also expresses perfectly the pleasure in such moments, which made sketching tours so popular. This is not a memorandum sketch for an easel painting but a drawing for its own sake. Its freedom and immediacy give it an authority which allows a sense of the experience of being in that particular place at that particular time: the sun streams through the trees, the water roars, the spray flies, the sketchers are attentive. This type of short focus sketching will inevitably have stimulated further interest in the study of natural features.

The example of fieldwork and the role of visual communicatinn

Fieldwork was usually conducted within the framework of natural history. Topographical artists and a few landscape painters were among the earliest travellers in untamed regions, drawn in search of scenery which might prove of interest to prospective patrons.39 Roy Porter has pointed out that a "growing number of topographers, antiquarians, local natural historians, travellers

35. See, for example, Moore 1976 p. 133. 36. See Barrell 1972 p p . 21-23. 37. On Hearne see Morris 1989, White 1977 p p . 35-36; on Beaumont and Farington: Owen 1988, Farington's Diary (Garlick and Macintyre 1978-84). 38. See Murdoch 1984a p. 39. 39. See Hedley 1982 on the need for topographic artists to produce what was wanted (p. 18), and on topographical art generally. 39

and collectors who were also in the field were responsive to the ideals of the new Baconian science"; travellers brought new perspectives to natural history.40 In fact, the boundaries of natural history in the eighteenth century still remain blurred, owing to the broad interests of many naturalists. As we shall see, a great deal of overlapping of pursuits and appropriation of practices occurred between different areas of fieldwork. The study of the earth, as Porter comments, "was a multi-faceted activity, allowing of a considerable variety of disciplines and approaches".41

Fieldworkers in remote areas, of necessity confronted the landscape "face to face". This confrontation in the early eighteenth century, Porter believes to have gradually fixed attention on rock masses and was crucial to the later development of geology as a science.42 I believe it was equally important in bringing painters into a close engagement with the landscape which had never been possible before. It encouraged them to base their depictions on study, since a different treatment was required - only by studying a rock face or a tree, for instance, could they be portrayed convincingly. The tradition of field natural history provided the models but the artists could only improve their observational and technical skills by constant practice. Throughout this thesis, it will be apparent that this was an active process, there was no question of a tabula rasa.

Exploration in remote, usually mountainous, areas links the examples of collaborative fieldwork to be discussed. The resulting landscapes were therefore of potential interest to all those studying the earth. Martin Rudwick was probably the first to consider fully the role of visual communication in the

40. 1977 pp. 24 and 113. 41. 1974 p. 136. See also Allen: Ma naturalist was anyone who subscribed to the study of the variety and processes of the earth: to be fully deserving of the title, therefore, a person needed to be able to demonstrate familiarity with the subject right across its range" (1979 p. 201) . 42. 1977 p. 57. 40

emerging science of geology; landscapes were an important means of recording observations and disseminating information on observable surface evidence.43 His comments on the visual language of geology are virtually confined to the early nineteenth century, and he is highly critical of eighteenth- century 'natural history' landscapes.44 However "crude" (as he claims) they were, I will argue (in the context of these collaborations) that cognitively they were not insignificant and that, at the least, they stimulated interest in particular locations and phenomena, encouraging discussion, further investigation and interpretation.

Collaboration Is Robert Price with Richard Pococke and Benjamin Stillingfleet

With comparatively little documentary evidence relating to Robert Price, it is tempting to conclude that his youthful experience of participating in the first expedition to the Alpine glaciers in 1741 profoundly affected his subsequent interests and way of life. The truth is likely to be more complicated, although virtually everything known about him is connected in some way with nature: he explored and drew nature in the wild; he supported, took part in and made use of botanical research; he improved the land and landscape of his estate with care for its existing natural qualities; he learned himself, and encouraged others, to draw direct from nature. His connection with three different areas of fieldwork will be analysed: the alpine adventure just mentioned, his involvement in botanical research, and his early sketching and botanizing tours in north Wales.

43. 1976. On landscapes see especially p p . 172-180. See also Secord 1986 p. 29. See Pointon 1979 for an early discussion of geology and landscape painting at this time. 44. Op. cit. pp. 172-180. See also Klonk 1992 (chapter 3). 41

Robert Price (1717-1761), of Foxley in Herefordshire, was the son of Uvedale Tomkins Price (1685-1764), art collector, musician and friend of Thomas Gainsborough. While in Rome on the Grand Tour (c.1739-40) Robert Price, who was already a skilled musician, took drawing lessons from Giovanni Battista Busiri (1698-1757), a landscape painter whose works were bought by English collectors45 and artists, including Richard Wilson. From Busiri he learned to draw with a pen, unusual at that time, and to sketch direct from nature.46

First expedition to the glaciers

On the Tour Price met William Windham of Fellbrigg in Norfolk (1717-1761) and the latter's tutor Benjamin Stillingfleet (1702- 1771) (later to become well known as a naturalist and first translator of Linnaeus into English), and on their return from Rome they studied history, natural philosophy and botany for a while together at the Geneva Academy.47 On 19 June 1741 they set out on an expedition to the glaciers near Mont Blanc in the company of a few other gentlemen, including the travel writer and naturalist, Dr. Richard Pococke (1704-1765), who had recently arrived in Geneva following a journey to Egypt, Palestine and Greece.48 They were "the first travellers who penetrated into these Alpine recesses",49 the first "truly motivated by disinterested curiosity".50 In 1741 the Chamonix glaciers "descended as far as the heart of the valley" and

45. For example. Lord Dartmouth (1731-1801), William Windham and Price himself. 46. Lambin 1987 p. 251; Stillingfleet, quoted Coxe 1811 p p . 170-171. See also Haycroft 1958 p. 234, Vici 1966 p p . 29-36. 47. Vici ibid. p. 31. 48. DNB. 49. Coxe p p . cit. p. 76. That this was generally accepted is suggested by its repetition in a review of M.T. Bourrit's account of a similar journey in the 1770s (Monthly Review 1775 Vol. LIII p. 142). 50. Baud et al Immaqini e Immaqinario della Montaane 1740-1840 1989 p. 31. This refers to much general and scientific literature on the Alps. 42

"offered themselves in all their splendour" to the expedition.^1 Windham states that the inhabitants of Chamonix, who provided guides, told them nobody went there "except to search for crystals".51 52

The expedition was reported in Mercure de Suisse in 1743 and an account circulated in manuscript form in Geneva.53 This was published in London the following year as a pamphlet entitled 'An Account of the Glaciers or Ice Alps in Savoy in two letters, one from an English Gentleman to his Friend at Geneva; the other from Peter Martell, Engineer to the said English Gentleman'. The latter was clearly Windham, who seems to have organised and presumably funded the first journey (1741), which his letter describes; his "Friend" was the Genevan painter Arlaud.54 The second letter describes a journey the following year by Martell, for whom the pamphlet was printed, perhaps to increase his surveying and mapping work.55 Martell appears to have been employed by Windham to take measurements, the "mathematician" who should have accompanied them having been taken ill. The impact of Windham's text was enhanced by a large fold-out engraving by François Vivares (1709-1780) from a drawing executed by Robert Price on the spot, (Fig. 2) the first ever made of this glacier.56 There are also two smaller drawings and a plan of the mountain peaks around Chamonix, which names Mont Blanc for the first time,57 all by Martell.

51. The great development of ice in the 'small glacial age' began around 1700, explaining the failure of François de Sales to mention the "extraordinary mountain cornices" in his Bénédiction des Glaciers de la Vallée de Chamonix (1644) (ibid. p. 31). 52. 1744 p. 3. 53. PNB (Pococke). 54. Although the title page states that the account was "laid before the Royal Society", it did not appear in the Philosophical Transactions. The attribution of this pamphlet to Pococke (see Porter 1977 p. 267) may have occurred because it would have been he (as a Fellow) who presented it. Windham's letter was originally written in French (he was a linguist) . 55. Advertised Windham 1744 p. 28. 56. The first artist "to make paintings of glaciers that must be seen within the context of natural sciences" was probably Felix Meyer of Winterthur (1653- 1713) (Wegmann 1992 pp. 324-325 and p. 340). I am grateful to Peter Schimkat for this information. 5 7 . Few peaks were named at this date (Baud op. cit. p. 32). 43

The adventure, which seems to have amazed the local population of Chamonix58 and generally to have "created a furore",59 was later commemorated by the Swiss with a large stone on the glacier, carved with Pococke's and Windham's names and the date.60 Edward Whymper referred to the journey as having "the inestimable result of giving an aura of celebrity" to Switzerland,61 while Coxe suggests (no doubt correctly) its wider significance: ...they gave the first impulse to that curiosity which has since led travellers of every nation into the wildest recesses of the Alps and has produced discoveries highly valuable to the cultivation of Natural History in general and equally important towards ascertaining the structure and changes of the globe.62

Windham's description is dramatic. They took guides, a few instruments - which turned out to be inadequate - and were armed. After three days on horseback and on foot and a climb of four and three-quarter hours, which was "so steep we were obliged sometimes to cling to fallen rocks with our hands, and make use of Sticks with sharp Irons at the End to support ourselves", the glacier was reached. These sticks, which can be seen in the drawing, appear to be the only concession made to their normal attire. The ice was extremely rough and covered with "an infinite number of Cracks, so deep we could not even see the Bottom, and which change continually with a noise like claps of thunder". The account continues: The Glacier consists of three large Valleys that form a kind of Y... the Bearings pretty nearly from North to South. These Valleys, although at the Top of a high Mountain, are furrowed with other Mountains; the Tops of which being naked and craggy Rocks, shoot up immensely high, something resembling old Gothic Buildings or Ruins, nothing grows upon them, they are all Year round covered with Snow, and our Guides assured us that neither the Chamois or any Birds ever went so high as the Top of them.... The width of the valley must be near three quarters of a League.... You must imagine your Lake put in violent agitation with a strong wind and frozen all at once.63

58. Windham 1744 p. 11. 59. Baud op. cit. p. 32. 60. DNB■ 61. Quoted Baud op. cit. p. 31. 62. Coxe op. cit. p. 81. 63. Windham op. cit. p. 8. 44

This last sentence (from which the glacier acquired the name La Mer de Glace) and the comparison with Gothic architecture, are said immediately to have "entered into common speech"64 as apt analogies. Windham admitted to being "bewildered to give a just idea" of the "terrible view" which confronted them, but suggested a similarity to "the Seas of Greenland", as conveyed by travellers. He was familiar with the works of the Zurich naturalist Johann Jakob Scheuchzer (1672-1733) and quotes him on avalanches, but Scheuchzer had never described such a scene.65

Even Windham's description of l'Allée Blanche, or La Mer de Glace, is insufficient preparation for the drawing, which at first sight might appear to be mainly a product of Prices imagination; it certainly must have impressed all those who saw it at the time. However, the expedition aimed to extend existing knowledge of the mountains, and Windham recognised the importance of giving a "just idea" of the glacier. Pococke also had his reputation to consider and they would both no doubt have encouraged Price to be accurate.66 Many other artists drew here following Price, including Sir George Beaumont in 1782 and 1819.67 The observational basis of Price's drawing (even if not the exactness) was first suggested by a view by Marc-Théodore Bourrit which appeared in 1787 in Horace-Bénédict de Saussure's Voyages dans les Alpes,68 (Fig. 3) and was later reprinted in Hutton's Theory of the Earth 1795.69 De Saussure first visited the glacier in 1767, when access was still "dangerous and

64. Baud op. cit. p. 32. 65. Windham op. cit. pp. 9 and 5. 66. Pococke himself sketched on some of his tours (for example, to Scotland 1747, 1750, 1760) although the pencil or pen and wash drawings, and the engravings from them (BL MSS), are somewhat crude. He must have felt, however, that even an unskilled drawing could assist in conveying certain salient features. 67. Owen 1988 pp. 43 and p p . 197-198. 68. Vol. V Plate IV. The work was published in English in 1788. 1787 also saw the publication of Voyage Pittoresque aux Aines Pennines. which includes a view of the Mer de Glace, by Jean-François Albania Beaumont. 69. De Saussure's account of the granite and alpine strata is quoted and discussed at length; Hutton compares it with his own enquiries in Britain (Vol. Ill PP- 100-142). 45 difficult".70 He comments on the accuracy of Bourrit's views: "j'en ai verifier les proportions avec le graphometre sans pouvoir y découvrir d'erreur".71

Price's Grand Tour culminated in Paris where he met artists and engravers and increased his collection of prints, encouraged by his father.72 From the point of view of his interest in drawing from nature, the most important contact he made there appears to have been with the artist and engraver Jacques-Philippe Le Bas (1707-1783), who "excelled at landscapes and small figures", prints of which were very popular.73 Price seems to have been intrigued by Le Bas' practice of carrying a sketchbook around with him and to have adopted the idea himself.74 It would have been more practical and flexible than the traditional single sheet when drawing outdoors.75 Easily carried in, and extracted from, a pocket (copious in eighteenth-century greatcoats), it did not require a backing board in use or special storage space, while the sketches remained in order and were less easily mislaid. The use of sketchbooks by artists, and the habit of dating work which some adopted when drawing direct from nature, brought their practice closer to that of their scientific contemporaries who invariably kept field notebooks.

Botanical research and estate improvement

After his marriage in 1743, Price greatly improved the Foxley estate by planting trees, undertaking various agricultural projects and constructing winding paths through the woods and up the hills to take advantage of the extensive and varied

70. 1787 Vol. I pp. 17-21. This suggests that William Pars' drawing of this glacier (engraved Woollett 1767) (reproduced Baud p. 47), similar to that by Price, could have been taken from it. 71. Ibid. p. xxviii. Bourrit also published material on the Alps in the 1770s. 72. Fleming-Williams John Baptist Malchair (MS Ch. 2 p p . 13-17. 73. Williamson 1964 Vol. Ill p. 191. 74. Fleming-Williams op. cit. Ch. 2 p p . 14-15 and p. 29. 75. Fleming-Williams ibid. Ch. 2 p. 30. 46

prospects.76 Stillingfleet came to live there in 174677 and began his botanical researches. He studied herbals and botanical texts from the ancients to Linnaeus, translating the latter into English for the first time and helping to popularise his taxonomic system in Britain.78 He was acquainted with many naturalists in addition to Pococke: Thomas Pennant, Daniel Solander, william Hudson (author of Flora Analica. 1762), Thomas Gray79 and Shute Barrington, Dean of Durham (Price's brother-in- law), and no doubt many others. In 1759 Stillingfleet's Miscellaneous Tracts in Natural History, containing "a spirited eulogium of the study of Nature", was published.80 His researches and experiments on grasses, with which Price assisted him, appeared as Observations on Grasses in 1762, the year after his patron's death. Seven of the eleven drawings of grass species in this work were by Price81 (Fig. 4) .

Price's interest in grasses was not purely botanical; new grass species were needed to improve his pastures; all the drawings in observations on Grasses were of "Gramineae, selected for their forage qualities".82 Nathaniel Kent, the agriculturist, recommended the work, saying it "described the best sorts so clearly", while a particular type of grazing grass grown at Foxley as a result of Stillingfleet's experiments had been confirmed as "better than the others" by the Bailiff.83 Apart from wooded hills, the property consisted mainly of agricultural land84 and there is no doubt that Price put this research to

76. Lambin 1987 pp. 251-257. Price's father had retired to Bath. 77. Coxe op. cit. p. 97. 78. Coxe op. cit. p p . 108-117. 79. Gray annotated Linnaeus's Systema Naturae, to which he was introduced by Stillingfleet (Jones 1937 p. 349), adding drawings of insects and birds. 80. Review of Coxe 1811 (The Gentleman's Maaa?ins 1811 Vol. I p. 42). 81. The orginals may have found their way eventually to Thomas Pennant. Stillingfleet promised him on March 2 1762: "I will send you the drawings of the grasses as soon as I have got a frank large enough", but in October 1791 his nephew W. Locker wrote offering them again to Pennant (WRO MSS). 82. Lambin op. cit. note 29 p. 267. 83. Kent 1776 p p . 37 and 42. William Curtis repeats Kent's comment and refers to Stillingfleet's book in Practical Observations on the British Grasses, which contains Curtis's larger, hand-coloured drawings (third edition 1798). 84. Lambin op. cit. p. 254. 47

good use. The central role played by landowners in the exploitation of the natural resources of their properties and in stimulating interest in the earth in the eighteenth century is emphasised by Porter.85

Tree planting and other improvements undertaken by Price at Foxley, were, as Stillingfleet testified, always appropriate to Price's perception of the natural quality of the existing landscape.86 They are likely to have had an important effect on the attitude to nature - and the theories - of his son, Uvedale Price, the eminent writer on the picturesque,87 who grew up and spent most of his life there. Denis Lambin, in his study of the Foxley estate, considers the originality of the place to have been its "lack of artifice and pretension, the easy rambles and the sudden discovery of vast distances when emerging from dark woods on to the open summits".88 Visiting Foxley in 1756, Pococke commented on the local quarry, the "winding walks through woods of fine young oaks" and extensive views into the surrounding counties and Wales.89 A watercolour by Gainsborough (Fig. 5), painted on a visit to Foxley in 1760, and Robert Price's own pen and wash drawing of the Castle and Mount, dated 1744 (Fig. 6), show the sort of picturesque scenery which was the daily experience of life at Foxley.90

Botanizing and sketching tours

In the late 1750s (ten years before Gilpin's first visit of 1770) Price and Stillingfleet made a two-week journey on

85. 1974 pp. 116-117. 86. Stillingfleet, quoted Coxe op. cit. p. 174. 8 7 . Essay on the Picturesque 1794. 88. 1987 p. 254. 89. 1888 (ed) Cartwright (entry for 20 September 1756). 90. The word 'picturesque' was in quite common usage in the mid- eighteenth century among connoisseurs - indicating that a scene was 'suitable for a picture' - before Gilpin's aesthetics made its meaning more specific. For example, Windham uses the term "Picturesque Prospect" to describe a view of Geneva (1744 p. 11); Pennant writes of Llangollen as appealing to the "refined lover of picturesque scenes" (1778 p. 278). 48

horseback down the Wye,91 which in its Herefordshire passage runs quite close to Foxley.92 This was the nearest accessible 'wild' nature but they also undertook several botanizing and sketching tours into Wales, referred to by Stillingfleet as "among the earliest which are since become so fashionable".93 On the last tour (10-31 August 1759) Price made fifty drawings,94 eighteen of which, some with light washes, are in the National Library of Wales; a few others have been identified as well as some engravings by James Basire (Fig. 8). Basire's prestige, which presumably allowed him to select his clients, suggests that he held Price's ability in some esteem.95 These prints indicate that Price's work, in addition to his depiction of La Mer de Glace, was known to others outside his immediate circle96 and may have encouraged other artists to visit Wales.

Some of the 1759 drawings are close in feeling to the picturesque countryside around Foxley (Fig. 8), but Price was clearly still attracted to rugged mountain scenery which - according to Stillingfleet's journal - also provided good plant hunting, for grasses especially, and Price may have done some of his drawings on this or previous trips. North Wales, and particularly Snowdonia (Fig. 11), was an important area for botanists (following Thomas Johnson and John Ray),97 mineralogists and geologists. It also presented superb potential for artists and travel writers, not only to record the local natural history but also to draw on and express the aesthetics

91. Fleming-Williams MS Ch. 2 p. 24. 92. At least one drawing by Price is known: 'The Wye near Byford in Herefordshire' sold at Colnaghi's in 1983. Other unidentified river drawings, including one dated 1744 (Fig. 9), may also show the Wye; it is probably too early to be Wales. A sketch of 1757 by John Baptist Malchair (see below, this chapter) of the river is among several of Foxley, indicating that the visit was made from his patron's house (Corpus Christi, Sketchbook II). 93. Quoted Coxe op. cit. p. 125. 94. Stillingfleet (quoted Coxe op. cit. pp. 126-149). Fleming-William mentions two drawings at Llanberis dated 1758 (Hardie 1966 Vol. II p. 260). 95. McCarthy 1964 p. 292. This article discusses the NLW drawings fully. 96. For instance, Fig. 11 is an extra-illustration in Pennant's own copy of A Tour in Wales (Vol. IV facing p. 184). 97. Johnson was one of the first (1634), discovering the yellow poppy (Pulteney 1790). Ray visited in 1658, finding "divers rare plants" (1-5 Sep.); on 26 May 1662 he saw the yellow poppy at Llanberis (Ray 1760) . 49

of the sublime. The proximity of Foxley to Wales, Price's Welsh ancestry,98 his earlier venture in the Alps, as well as the 'Celtic Revival' of the 1750s,99 makes these tours seem inevitable. Sir George Lyttelton, quoted above, who also made several Welsh journeys in the 1750s and later100 lived at Hagley, like Foxley, very close to Wales.

Price and Stillingfleet seem to have visited every cataract on or near their route101 - often needing a guide - and Price made several close up, fairly detailed drawings, for instance of the lower waterfall and surrounding rocky area on the River Cynfal near Festiniog (probably on 25 August) (Fig. 10). Price's drawings accord with descriptions of the terrain and plant habitats in Stillingfleet's diary, enabling some drawings to be exactly dated. One can imagine Price sketching here in very similar circumstances to those enjoyed by Beaumont and Farington years later (Fig. 1). These drawings demonstrate his continuing ability at close observation, confirmed by Stillingfleet, who also records Price's "facility of hand" and says that he gave a true representation of every object by a few characteristic outlines, which he traced on the spot, marked any extraordinary effect of light and shade and left the sketch to be filled up at leisure.102 Chiaroscuro in Price's depictions takes them beyond the general run of topographical work and increases their naturalism. The drawings are mounted so there is no way of knowing whether they came from a sketchbook but if they did, it was not pocket-sized since they are all roughly 24 x 37 cm. Any other sketchbooks he may have used have disappeared.

98. His grandfather was 'Baron' Robert Price (1655-1733) of Gyler, Denbighshire. 99. See, for example, Solkin 1988 p p . 86ff. 100. Solkin ibid. p. 88. 101. Waterfalls were perhaps the chief attraction of mountain scenery for artists on sketching tours. Artists and gentlemen on the Grand Tour invariably visited the famous artificial cascade at Tivoli, possibly the most portrayed of all. A painting by Gaspard Dughet (1613-1675) of this cascade is recorded in England in 1744 in the ownership of James Earl Waldegrave, (now in the Wallace Collection). Price's teacher Busiri drew it in the 1740s (Vici 1966 p. 71) as did Richard Wilson in 1753-55. Windham recorded seeing waterfalls near Chamonix in 1741 (1744 p. 3). 102. Coxe op. cit. pp. 171-2. 50

Price as cruide and mentor

Price made at least one other important contribution to the natural mode of landscape painting. He was patron to the Oxford drawing master John Baptist Malchair (1729-1812), whose influence extends, through Sir George Beaumont and William Crotch to John Constable.103 Malchair drew from nature at Foxley on several occasions from 1757104 (Fig. 7) and the inspiration of Price's drawing methods, his collection of pictures, drawings and prints, as well as the natural surroundings - the woods and open fields of the Foxley estate - were crucial to the artist's practice and his teaching methods.105 Malchair adopted the habit of carrying a sketchbook from Price, as we learn from a note in a book of sketches made in the Bristol area between 1757 and 1759: The first of the drawings after Nature. The first few attempts made before these were on single papers. The method of drawing in a book was adopted from Robert Price Esquire of Foxley in Herefordshire. From him I received a deal of useful information respecting the art of drawing, for he was himself an excellent artist as well as patron.106 A sketchbook of Peter Rashleigh's (a pupil) contains a drawing of Malchair standing and drawing in one himself. Crotch and Beaumont also used sketchbooks and it is likely that all Malchair's students would have done so when working outdoors.107

Malchair's Bristol sketches and the many drawings and watercolours he produced during the forty years from 1759 that he taught at Oxford, show his close observation of nature. He encouraged his students to study directly from nature by regularly taking them sketching in the surrounding countryside - an unusual practice at that time.108 He undertook three Welsh tours between 1789 and 1795; on the last, which yielded fifty-

103. Fleming-Williams MS Ch. 7. See also 1965 p. 29; 1991 p. 387. 104. Corpus Christi College: Sketchbook II (4 sketches); Sketchbook X (1 sketch). Ashmolean: 1 sketch dated 1757. 105. Fleming-Williams op. cit. p. 31. This will be discussed more fully in Chapter Six. 106. Corpus Christi College: Sketchbook II. 107. Fleming-Williams: personal communication. 108. Fleming-Williams 1968 p. 228. 51

one drawings, he was accompanied by George Cooke (1760-1840) a Fellow of Oriel College who was later well known in geological circles and said to be a competent artist. Cooke's geological interests may have encouraged Malchair to attend more directly to particular features of the mountains.109 Malchair's students were amateurs but some, such as Beaumont and Lord Aylesford, both undertook regular sketching tours and achieved a considerable reputation with their landscapes. Beaumont's later drawings and a sketchbook110 testify to his ability to draw naturalistically - particularly flowing water (see Fig. 98) - although in his oils he tended to strive for the classical ideal. Fleming-Williams says that often amateurs were "in advance of the contemporary mainstream... they could afford to take risks and experiment".111

Robert Price's concern to retain the existing natural quality of the landscape at Foxley when effecting improvements to the property would appear to reflect his deep feeling for nature and a preoccupation with naturalism in all its aspects. His habit of close observation was undoubtedly acquired from his association with naturalists such as Stillingfleet, Pococke and his cousin Shute Barrington - and there may have been others, since Stillingfleet had wide connections. In view of this, the naturalism of his own drawings and the encouragement of this approach in another artist through drawing direct from nature, is not surprising. Price is representative of a cultured élite able to indulge its curiosity about the natural world. He no doubt learned much from his sketching tours and collaboration with naturalists; he also contributed in a small way as an artist and as a patron to a wider knowledge.

109. See Fleming-Williams MS. Ch. 6 pp. 58-71 for discussion of the outstanding quality of Malchair's drawings on this tour and the possible effect of Cooke's presence (p. 66). On Cooke see also Geological Society p-roceedinqs III 1842 p p . 522-523 (reference kindly supplied by Hugh Torrens). 110. Whitworth Art Gallery (1800-1808). 111. 1965 p. 30. 52

Collaboration II: Moses Griffith with Thomas Pennant

We have seen how Price probably learned from his companions on field trips less by direct instruction than by absorbing their attentive attitude to their study of nature. This section will deal with a very different type of collaboration - between a naturalist and the artist he trained from scratch. Samuel Johnson praised Thomas Pennant (1726-1798) as "the best traveller I ever read", and paid tribute to his powers of observation and description.112 Pennant's wide interests as a naturalist and antiquarian made his Tours informative on many levels and there can be no doubt of their value to contemporary natural history; his speculation on causes of phenomena probably aroused particular interest. Pennant's visual orientation, views on natural history illustration, and insistence that his artist, Moses Griffith (1747-1819), who accompanied him everywhere, should always depict nature in a direct and truthful manner, implies that his teaching methods were as thorough and disciplined as his own practice. This assessment of Griffith's artistic education and his contribution explains the value of his work to his master, and suggests that, through the fieldwork with Pennant, he achieved a degree of awareness himself.

Pennant's visual orientation

Pennant accorded a high priority to visual communication. His works (especially his own grangerised copies) contain a great many illustrations, which not only serve to back up his observations but often bring them vividly to life. It seems likely that the prints in such works would have attracted the contemporary reader's prior attention, due partly to their potential power, and partly, as Rudwick pointed out, to their relative scarcity in late eighteenth-century natural history books.113 Favourably reviewing A Tour in Scotland (1771) and

112. Boswell 1791 (1892 edition p. 336). 113. 1976 pp. 154-155. 53

A Tour in Scotland and Voyage to the Hebrides (1774), G.E. Griffiths specifically mentioned the prints.114

Pennant appears to have been obsessed with collecting every available representation of the objects, places, landscapes and natural phenomena about which he wrote.115 Sketches of antiquities, flora and fauna were often received from naturalists in distant parts. For instance between 1774-79 Alexander Pope of Caithness sent plans and drawings of Roman temples and Pictish houses; on 6 August 1773 the Rev. George Low sent a sketch of a Basking Shark caught in Orkney.116 I am not aware of any other traveller-naturalist who was so voracious in collecting visual material otfenr^than Joseph Banks.117

A very few of Pennant's own drawings are engraved in his works but, it seems, no views, although he records "taking views from my window" while staying with Sir Roger Mostyn, to whom the Tour -in Scotland is dedicated.118 Pennant's two small journals of his visit to Ireland (June-September 1754) contain four or five slight sketches of monuments.119 In spite of his own shortcomings as an artist, he was thoroughly conversant with the types and quality of prints and drawings of natural history and topographical subjects which he needed for his publications. After his first journey in Scotland in 1769, Pennant never travelled without Griffith.

Pennant's own copies of his Tours are grangerised with prints and other items and embellished in the margins (either directly or pasted in) with original drawings and watercolours comprising landscapes, coats of arms, fossils, birds and plants by Griffith and others, including Paul Sandby. Pennant greatly admired the

114. Monthly Review Vol. XLVI 1772 p. 157 and Vol. LI 1774 p. 454. 115. See his correspondence with Joseph Banks and Paul Sandby, mentioned below. After Pennant's death his son continued to add material so it is not always certain who was responsible (Joyner 1983 p. 2). 116. WRO MSS. 117. Banks Catalogue of Books and Prints (BL Microfilm). 118. 1771 p. v. 119. 16.5 x 10.2 cm. (WRO MSS). 54 latter's work and commissioned views on at least one occasion; the Tour in Scotland contains sixteen plates from Sandby's original drawings120 and there are several of his acquatints in a Tour in Wales. Sandby's watercolours would have served as models for Griffith, as for many others.

Tha naturalist trains his artist

Moses Griffith had no formal art training but developed an early interest in drawing. Born into a poor family in 1747, he nevertheless seems to have been reasonably educated at the local Free School. He worked for Pennant or his son on their estate at Downing in Flintshire, or in the field, from 1769 (aged 22) until his death in 1819121 Described by Pennant as "that treasure", "my worthy servant"122 and "self-taught genius",123 Griffith was allowed only rarely to work for anyone else until the 1780s.124 He rented a house on Pennant's estate;125 his salary is not known but he always seems to have been short of money.126 At one time the Rev. Richard Bull, a friend of Pennant's, was paying him 7s. a day for embellishing his copy of Tniir in Wales, which Pennant claimed was a special rate and less than half what a London artist would receive.127 In a published advertisement dated 1 December 1784,128 Griffith described himself as "Painter to Thomas Pennant" (obviously considering this sufficient recommendation to potential patrons) and offered "his services to the Public in his leisure hours", charging between 10s. 6d. and £1.11.6 for a landscape (depending on size)

120. A Tour in Wales Vol. I p. iv; letter from Sandby to Pennant dated June 23 1777 (NLW MSS). See also Joyner 1983a. 121. Biographical material on Griffith has been obtained from the Pennant archive, NLW, and Moore 1979. 122. Pennant 1793 p p . 9-10. 123. Advertisement Tour in Wales (end Vol. I). 124. Banks owned a drawing of a conch shell by Griffith which could have been a gift or a purchase (BM MS). 125. Moore op. cit. p. 14. 126. Pennant-Bull correspondence, NLW and WRO. 127. Letter to Bull 14 April 1782 NLW MSS. 128. NLW MSS. 55 and 6s. for crests or coats of arms "for the margins of a book". Griffith was expected to turn his hand to anything. He worked in pencil, pen and watercolour, occasionally etching or engraving his own work,129 although Pennant usually sent it to one of the well-known London engravers, generally Peter Mazell. Grose and Boydell both published prints from Griffith's views in the 1780s and 1790s, thus widening his audience.

The fourth volume of British Zoology (1770) contains the first of Griffith's published drawings. It may be that he was engaged in 1769 specifically for this purpose, since Pennant writes of "the deficiency of plates in the three first volumes".130 There are certainly more (but none coloured) in this volume and the expense of employing individual artists was probably far greater than Pennant would have incurred for his apprentice, over whose productions he would also have had more control. In the Preface to Volume I Pennant discourses briefly on the purpose and role of illustration and on "the knowledge of nature in the representation of objects" necessary to the artist, who, it would appear, was expected to be a naturalist himself in all but the ability to classify: Painting is an imitation of nature; now who can imitate without consulting the original? The painter should be acquainted with all their various tints [of animal and vegetable life], their manner of living, their peculiar motions or attitudes, and their places of abode, or he will fall into manifest errors.131

Griffith's topographical views

After British Zoology Griffith concentrated mainly on topographical views and landscapes, either for prints or as

129. Moore op. cit. p. 17. 130. Advertisement Vol. IV p. v. These were by the highly respected artists George Edwards (1694-1773) and Peter Paillou (c. 1712-1784), engraved by Peter Mazell. Palliou also worked for Banks; Edwards published A Natural History of Uncommon Birds (1743-51) and his drawings were used by Linnaeus, William Swainson and John Latham. See Jackson 1985 on Edwards (pp. 88-102) and on Pennant's artists for this work (pp. 103-121). 131. p- vii. 56

direct marginal embellishment, for which his skills were probably better adapted. The earliest dated work I have seen is a slight view in pencil and black ink with grey wash, stuck into Pennant's own copy of A Tour in Wales.132 It is signed and dated 1766, a few years prior to Griffith's employment by Pennant.

Griffith did not attend Pennant on his first Scottish journey of 1769. Published in 1771, the Tour in Scotland contains views, mainly of castles, but there are two waterfalls by W. Tompkins and Paul Sandby, and birds by Sydney Parkinson. One hundred and seventy drawings made by Griffith on the 1772 tour appeared in 1774 in the immensely popular Tour to Scotland and Vovaae to the Hebrides 1772, proving to Pennant the value of having his own artist on the spot. Dedicated to Banks, this work contained the first published account of the diary kept by Banks of his visit to Staffa and Fingal's Cave the same year, as well as engravings133 of drawings by Banks's artists John Cleveley and John Frederick Miller, done on the spot and "presented" to Pennant, as he records in 'List of Drawings made by Moses Griffith on my tours to Scotland 1772 and others presented to me on my journey' ,134 Pennant, was unable to land himself owing to the weather (he would have preceded Banks by a month had he succeeded) and could only "cause an accurate view [by Griffith] to be taken of the Eastern side", which was also published.135

132. Vol. VI p. 220. 133. 1744 pp. 261ff, including plates. In a letter to Banks (13 June 1773) Pennant writes that "the engravings of Staffa are going well" (Dawson 1958 p. 662) . 134. NLW MSS. The circumstances are not known; they may have met in Edinburgh, where Banks's voyage ended. He was in the vicinity from 29 October to 18 November (Carter 1984 p. 114). In a letter to Pennant dated Nov. 19 1772, James Yorke, Bishop of St. Davids, writes, "Your old friend and brother adventurer, Mr. Banks, is I hear at Edinburgh in his return home.... Perhaps you met with him in your Course" (WRO MS). On the other hand, Dr. Lind may have acted as intermediary since he was with Banks and is recorded in the same document as the donor of a map of Islay (visited just prior to Staffa). There is no mention of Banks's Journal, but this may have exchanged hands at the same time. It seems likely that, after the fiasco of the illicit publication of journals of the E n d e a v o u r voyage, Banks wished to have this account published as soon as possible, and by someone he could trust. 135. 1774 p. 260. He must have been disappointed as he had seen the Giant's Causeway in 1754, although his notes of the visit (entry for Wed. 18 July) are very brief and he appears to have been rather unimpressed (WRO MSS). 57

Pennant records the botanizing activities on Skye of John Stuart and John Lightfoot136 and includes the latter's botanical notes.137 Griffith had plenty of opportunity to observe the three naturalists at their fieldwork, to absorb their attitude of close attention, to learn how and what to select for his depictions. This would have stood him in good stead for his botanical and zoological illustrations and for landscapes related to Pennant's discussions of rock formations or other phenomena. Pennant frequently uses such expressions as "faithfully recorded" and "utmost fidelity" in relation to depictions by Griffith, indicating his concern for accuracy, and his belief that other naturalists would also expect it.

Rpyond topography

Griffith appears to have experimented with various mediums. He decorated the margins of A Tour in Wales (1778-81), which drew on the journeys of 1770 and 1773, with many small watercolours. One of these is a little view of Glyder Bach in Snowdonia (Pig. 12). The peculiar nature of the rock formation seems to be well expressed. The clear, bright colours of many of these small works contrasts sharply with the paler hues of his larger scale pictures, like the version of Dolbadarn Castle and Snowdon (c. 1778) (Fig- 13), in which he has captured the soft evening light and shown the shadows consistent with the time of day.138 Each style has its attractions: the paler, traditional washes suit the more distant view, while the deeper colour gives the closer work a strength which is not inappropriate. However, while apparently representative of the actual scenery, his watercolours vary in quality.

Moore notes the "direct quality" of Griffith's drawings but criticises his depiction of rocks,139 perhaps justifiably in the

136. p. 395. 137. Lightfoot was an old friend and Pennant paid for the drawings and publication of his Flora Scotica in 1777. 138. Reproduced Vol. I facing p. 156. 139. 1979 Op. cit. pp. 17-18. 58

case of his watercolours (the small view of Glyder Bach is an exception). In his drawings and etchings, however, it seems to me that Griffith is generally able to express relevant aspects of rock faces and formations. Pennant seems to have been an exacting master,- he no doubt gave Griffith minute instructions - after all, his reputation would suffer from any inaccuracy or ineptitude. It is also clear from his published comments on the artist's work, some of which I have quoted, that his main concern was that Griffith should depict nature in a direct and truthful manner.

Pennant always describes the local strata, minerals and any fossils, sometimes very fully.140 Referring to the travel writing of such people as Richard Pococke and Pennant, Porter comments on the "high degree of scientific sophistication and specific geological expertise in the discussions of landscape and particular rock formations".141 Pennant, he says, gives "what amounts to a stratigraphical survey of the North Wales mineral area".142 It is certain that these works would have been read by naturalists intending to study the areas mentioned, as they were by travellers and artists143 - drawings of unusual features are always compelling.

A group of six short-focus etchings of rock formations were added as supplemental prints to the Welsh Tour to advertise Griffith's work.144 Pennant introduced and praised them for giving "the most just idea of what they are intended to represent", reminding us of his own priorities as expressed in British Zoology and quoted above. In view of the impression which Snowdonia made on him, it is significant that in his own

140. His interest in these matters, and botany, was kindled when Pennant visited William Borlase in Cornwall in 1746 or 1747 (Pennant 1793 p. 9). 141. Porter 1974 p. 125. 142. Ibid. p. 145. 143. The extent of this is clear from contemporary letters, diaries and published works. Among artists, Malchair, who was accompanied on his last tour to north Wales in 1795 by the 'geologist' George Cooke, was familiar with Pennant's work (Fleming-Williams MS Ch. 6 p. 62). 144. End of Vol I . 59 copy these etchings have been inserted into the text at the relevant points. One of these, 1Trevaen from Glyder Bach' (Fig. 14), depicts the same area as the small watercolour just mentioned but displays the unusual rough and irregular rock projections in greater detail, with human figures to give an idea of scale. The extraordinary scene which Griffith represents in 'On Glyder Bach' (Fig. 15) is described by Pennant: The area is covered with groups of columnar stones of vast size from 10-30 feet long, lying in all directions, most of them are of columnar form, often piled on one another, in other places half erect, sloping down and supported by others. The tops are frequently crowned in the strangest manner with other stones, lying on them horizontally. One was about 25 ft. long and six broad. I climbed up and on stamping it with my foot, felt a strong tremulous motion from end to end.... Many of the stones had bedded in them, shells and in their neighbourhood I found several pieces of lava. I would therefore rather consider this mountain to have been a sort of wreck of nature, formed and flung up by some mighty internal convulsion, which has given these vast groups of stones fortuitously such a strange disposition; for had they been the settled strata, bared of their earth by a long series of rains, they would have retained the regular appearance, as we observe in all other beds of similar matter.145 Speculation on the causes of such phenomena is relatively unusual in travel books at this time and indicates that traveller-naturalists could contribute to the long-standing debate about the origin of mountains.146 Griffith's etching thus possesses the potential of assisting in communicating Pennant's ideas as well as presenting the scene at that particular spot with precision and directness. These etchings further suggest that Rudwick's dismissal of eighteenth-century natural history landscapes was rather too sweeping.147

Topographical views of castles comprise the bulk of Pennant's choice of Griffith's illustrations for the Welsh Tour, presumably owing to their more general appeal and their ability to be reproduced and sold as separate prints. The close-up work,

145. A Tour of Wales Vol. II p. 151. 146. See, for example, G.L. Davies The Earth in Decay 1969. 147. Compare the frontispiece to Robert Bakewell's An Introduction to Geology (1813): 'Basaltic Columns on the N. Side of Cadre Idris'. Bakewell and others may have been encouraged to visit the area by Pennant's discussion and these etchings. 60 to which etching lends itself so favourably, may, however, have been the artist's own preference; this is suggested by the fact that he chose such depictions to advertise his abilities, but we have seen how they enhanced Pennant's descriptions. This extension of Griffith's skills may perhaps have been consciously developed from an awareness of the need for a different medium to portray such unusual phenomena. In terms of natural history illustration, these depictions are of great interest; they also show Griffith's observational abilities and how much he learned from participating in Pennant's fieldwork.

A further point concerning etching, relating to its accuracy and immediacy, is relevant to all naturalists and their artists. It is well known that engravings other than those by the artist himself often lost some if not all the character and definition of the original. This always presented an enormous problem and where accuracy was imperative much trouble was taken - by Pennant, Banks, Sandby and others - to choose really skilled engravers, and, if at all possible, to oversee the progress of the work. Other irritations are expressed in a letter dated 24 April 1769 in which John Gideon Loten complains to Pennant of the treatment of drawings by "engravers, colourers, painters, etc., who wrinkle and thumb and finger 'em to Rags.... they all think... drawings only made to be subservient to them".148 Etching allowed Griffith to exercise full control over his productions. Their spontaneity suggests that they may even have been etched on the spot, a practice followed by Sandby in the 1740s. I suggest this because any drawings would surely have been kept by Pennant for embellishing his own copy. (The importance of etching for the direct recording of natural features is discussed further in relation to Paul Sandby.)

Whereas Robert Price, connoisseur and landed gentleman, was by education and environment inclined towards a naturalistic approach to landscape gardening and painting, Griffith's drawing skills were shaped and exploited by Pennant. From the first he

148. WRO MSS. 61 was taught to represent nature according to the tenets and methods of the contemporary natural history community. Griffith's close-up etchings indicate his perception of the medium's particular suitability for the portrayal of certain features of the landscape; this implies that he acquired a degree of understanding of what he saw and indicates a genuine collaboration with Pennant in the fieldwork.

The value of eighteenth-century natural history landscapes

Rudwick has called many eighteenth-century 'natural history' landscapes "decidedly crude" and those in de Saussure's book "markedly unconvincing", ascribing this to "the lack of an appropriate artistic tradition that could cope adequately with the wild irregularities of mountain landscapes",149 confirming my earlier assertion of the need for new models and conventions for naturalism. However, those artists who were working within the context of the natural history sciences were, I believe, attempting to remedy this by adhering closely to the basic requirement of those sciences: the accurate portrayal of salient features. For instance, in the Bourrit and Price drawings, it is clearly important to attend to relative heights, distances and overall shape; an attempt is made to give the mountains solidity by appropriate shading, at which Price (whose artistic training would have included the use of chiaroscuro) is more successful. Whatever the artistic merits of Bourrit's views, the proportions were confirmed by de Saussure's measurements; T.S. Feldman, discussing early measuring techniques, refers to de Saussure as an "exact measurer".150 Discussing the "new framework of natural history" in Britain following the founding of the Royal Society, Porter says: "staking its credentials on rigour, it combatted

149. 1976 p p . 172-173. The paucity he mentions is not surprising in view of the attitudes in Britain I have outlined. However, Luca Ciancio considers that the example of members of the Paduan school, whose works all include high- quality illustrations, counters Rudwick's argument (1995 p p . 82-90). 150. 'Applied mathematics and the quantification of experimental physics: the example of barometric hypsometry' Historical studies in the physical sciences XV 1985 pp. 127-181 (see p. 163). 62 credulity and unsubstantiated claims, and demanded first-hand observation and measurement",151 a comment which almost certainly applied also to continental naturalists well before the 1780s. The care of naturalists for their reputations again appears crucial.

Comparisons between natural history landscapes of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries often do the former an injustice. In the earlier period, artists were struggling to extend a topographical approach to accommodate the requirements of the men of science, while later depictions were produced within a reasonably well-established tradition. I believe those earlier landscapes should be considered for their contribution to the investigation of the earth at the time, particularly in terms of providing cumulative evidence. They located the fieldwork and facilitated comparison, 'standing in' for places and phenomena which could not be treated like moveable specimens.

Price's and Bourrit's drawings had a major impact and helped to encourage further expeditions to the Alps and increase speculation as to their origin.152 Moses Griffith's etchings of rock formations in North Wales may have had a similar effect and will certainly have aided comparison with similar phenomena elsewhere. These points will be reiterated in the next chapter, in relation to the drawings of Staffa made for Banks. Such landscapes avoid charges of crudeness or "mere topography" by an added aesthetic quality, which should also (in a scientific context) render the scene convincing. Understanding of the subject-matter and a certain sensibility towards it, combined with particular skills, are all necessary for a depiction to have authority.

151. 1977 p. 43. 152. Perhaps also Samuel Hieronymus Grimm's drawings for Gottleib Grüner, published in Die Eisgebirge des Schweizerlandes 1760. 63

CHAPTER TWO

Eighteenth-century fieldwork: the artist's role

Paul Sandby RA (1731-1809) is best known for his major contributions to the development of watercolour and acquatint, and for the naturalism of many of his landscapes. His connection with both Sir Joseph Banks FRS (1743-1820) and William Roy FRS (1726-1790), surveyor and founder of the Ordnance Survey, have been documented but the importance of his fieldwork with and for them has not been sufficiently emphasised. This chapter will trace how Sandby learned to observe and draw in the field, and the long-term effect on his practice of the attitudes and rigorous methods of the naturalists. Both collaborations further demonstrate that field naturalists were aware of the importance of on-the-spot sketching for the recording of observations, and the ability of landscapes to communicate significant information.

In 1773 Sandby undertook a botanizing and sketching tour with Banks and John Lightfoot (1735-1788) but the circumstances of its organisation are obscure. I hope to throw further light on these by considering the mutual acquaintance of Sandby and Banks, the ways in which Sandby met the naturalist's criteria for his artists, and which of his earlier landscapes might have aroused Banks's interest. Sandby's contribution to the tour, and the immediate benefits to him, will also be examined.

The second part of the chapter is concerned with Sandby's period with the Military Survey of the Highlands from 1747-1751; emphasis is given to Sandby's process of learning to draw in the field and its effect on the development of his natural vision. Some new aspects of his main contributions to the Survey are considered. Scarcity of documents relating to practical aspects of the Survey renders an evaluation of Sandby's field experience somewhat speculative but I attempt to counter this by locating the discussion within the context of military and other 64 surveying in the eighteenth century, referring to contemporary practical works on the subject. This also assists our understanding of Roy's status and establishes his credentials as a naturalist. An examination of the teaching of drawing to military and Ordnance surveyors helps to clarify the role of sketching in surveying fieldwork, and of the importance of landscapes as "explanatory aids" to cartography and map reading.

Collaboration III: Paul Sandby with Joseph Banks

This section will establish the significance to Sandby's work of his association with Banks, and in particular the influence of their shared field practice, in view of the fact that he was already known as a "Man of Genius... in the painting of real views from nature". In order to throw more light on Banks's patronage of Sandby I will draw together what is known of their relationship and consider Banks's keen interest in natural history illustration and topographical views. This will provide a background to their botanizing and sketching tour of 1773 from which a few sites visited will be discussed, including the Avon Gorge. Throughout the eighteenth century and into the nineteenth this area, as an extraordinary production of nature, attracted many artists and naturalists, giving the Banks-Sandby tour a sense of continuity. All fieldwork embodies a strong element of situatedness and I will consider the importance of this to both natural history and the naturalistic genre of landscape painting. Such situatedness represents, in conjunction with close attention to nature, the principal contributions of on- the-spot sketches and landscapes to natural history and goes some way to explaining their value to Banks and Pennant.

Ranks and his artists

Joseph Banks's voyages of 1766 and 1768-71 established his reputation as an observer and collector of botanical and 65 zoological specimens.1 In 1766 he was appointed a Fellow of the Royal Society and of the Society of Antiquaries, not long afterwards becoming a member of the Society of Dilletanti. His relationship with the artists he employed on botanical and topographical work, in which he always retained an interest, has been fairly well (but by no means fully) documented and discussed. However, there are a few general points to be made.

In the long tradition of botanical illustration, working directly from recently collected plants rather than dried specimens was preferred practice. It is reasonable, therefore, that the wealthy young botanist should employ his own artists; Banks was a perfectionist, always taking immense pains to choose the best painters and engravers. His own artistic abilities seem to have been minimal;2 he went up to Oxford in 1760 just after Malchair began teaching at the University, but no drawing lessons are recorded. However, in 1793 he contributed to an annuity for Malchair, which suggests that they had met.3 The experience of losing seeds, plants and collecting bottles during a storm on his first voyage (to Newfoundland and Labrador in 1766),4 in addition to problems of preservation and storage, possibly convinced him of the desirability of taking artists with him on subsequent travels. The concern shown by Banks, on the Endeavour voyage (1768-71), in providing for the needs of his artists was always to be a priority; his diary also shows how closely they were supervised by the naturalists while working together at the table in the Great Cabin.5 Financial arrangements are not known until his proposed Resolution journey of 1772 when the four artists engaged each received an annual

1 . See Beaglehole 1962; Lysaght 1971 and 1980; Carter 1984. 2. Lysaght 1980 p. 58. 3 . On a letter from Malchair dated April 1793, Luttrell Wynne noted Banks contributed five guineas (Fleming-Williams MS Ch. 6 p p . 43-44) . 4 . Recorded by Banks in a small notebook containing Pennant's queries on the fauna (WRO MS). See also Banks's journal 28 October 1766 (Lysaght 1971 p. 151) . 5. See Lysaght 1980; Carter 1984 p. 82. 66 salary of £100,6 with Johann Zoffany RA (c. 1734-1810) being paid an additional retainer of £1000.7

canrn-vy -joins the botanists on tour

Between 1765 and 1773 Banks toured in Kent, Dorset, Somerset and Wales, concentrating mainly - and increasingly - on botany but also visiting antiquarian and archeological sites.8 These British excursions did not involve artists, at least not in the field; Sandby's presence on the seven-week journey in Wales made by Banks and Lightfoot in 1773 was therefore unusual.9 Sandby's nephew William later asserted that Banks chose Sandby "for his companion on several tours in Wales and other parts of the country", but there is no evidence of other tours.10

Sandby's involvement raises many questions. How did he and Banks know each other? Why was he chosen to accompany them? Was he paid, or was it merely a mutually convenient social arrangement? What works would Banks have seen at this stage which would have made him interested in Sandby as an artist? Did the tour provide any new experience of nature for Sandby or change his way of working? There are some clues but few certain answers as yet. Indications are that the men were friends - for instance Sandby wrote, respectfully but informally, inviting Banks (as godfather) to dine prior to the christening of his daughter.11

6 . Beaglehole 1962 Vol. 1. Note 1 p. 73. 7 . Newspaper cutting dated 26 March 1770 (Courtauld Institute). A penalty of £1000 was to be paid by Zoffany if he failed to go. In the event, Banks dropped out and he paid the artist €300 (Carter 1984 p. 123). Zoffany's main task would presumably have been to record the local inhabitants. 8 . Banks 1765, 1767, 1772; Carter 1984. 9 . Beaglehole includes Daniel Solander (transcriber of Lightfoot's Journal) in the party, but this is not corroborated. 10. W.A. Sandby 1892 p. 46. Two Welsh scenes are dated 1775: a tinted engraving of Edwinsford, Banks's uncle's house (NMW) and a watercolour of Chepstow Castle (V&A) (Pig. 18), but they could have been completed from sketches done in 1773. In fact. Banks was elsewhere that summer (Carter 1984). Charles Greville's presence is noted by Sandby on the back of the Chepstow watercolour, but he missed most of the tour owing to the death of his father; he and Sandby could have returned in 1775. 1 1 . Letter dated 19 December 1773 (Banks Archive NHM). 67

There are several possibilities as to how they met; a wide range of social and professional contacts existed in the eighteenth century between people with similar interests.12 Sandby is also known to have been very good company. He was always a welcome guest at the great houses he depicted, while his London home provided a regular meeting place for friends and acquaintances in the arts and sciences.13 Mutual friends, who all engaged in scientific activities, were Pennant, the Hon. Charles Greville, FRS, eminent amateur mineralogist and a pupil of Sandby's,14 Dr. James Lind FRS, astronomer and physician, and William Roy, the military surveyor and antiquarian, elected FRS in 1767, the year after Banks.

In 1764 Gainsborough described Sandby as "the only Man of Genius who has employ'd his pencil in the painting of real views from nature".15 Most of Sandby's exhibited works to this date were in the topographical mode but Gainsborough's remark indicates that he was acquiring a reputation for landscapes which were more than "mere topography" without being idealised visions. Herrmann considers Sandby's surviving large oils of country houses impressive, and believes his reputation was probably established by 1768, the year he became a member of the Council of the Royal Academy.16 William A. Sandby records that Dr. Thomas Monro was his uncle's friend and owned drawings by him.17 This is important because Monro's patronage of aspiring landscape painters such as Girtin and Turner took the form of allowing (or employing) them to copy his large collection of drawings from nature, including work by Hearne and John Robert Cozens as well as Sandby.

Sandby first exhibited landscapes of wild nature - all depictions of the Falls of the Clyde - at the Society of Artists

12. See e.g. Allen 1976; Inkster 1977. 13. See W.A. Sandby 1892 p. 96; Gandon 1846 p. 39. 14. On Greville's mineral collection and scientific activities see Weindling 1979 pp. 248-271. 15. Letter to Lord Hardwicke quoted Herrmann 1986 pp. 23-25. 16. 1986 p. 25. 17. 1892 p. 107. 68

in 1761.18 The watercolour of Bonnington Linn (Fig. 16) may not be the actual one exhibited but it is the earliest known depiction (dating from about 1750 when he was with the Highland Survey)19 of this much-represented spot.20 Sandby exhibits a good compositional sense and makes no attempt to idealise the scene. Several different types of tree are shown and although the falls are viewed from a distance, the rocks are prominent and clearly depicted, showing the strata - "narrow and regular, forming a stupendous natural masonry", as Pennant later described the scene.21 Such watercolours would have come as a revelation to those who saw them since few Londoners would have experienced scenery of this type. Gainsborough would almost certainly have seen the Clyde drawings before making the remark quoted above. Banks is also likely to have attended the major exhibitions,22 where he would also have seen Sandby's early depictions of Windsor Castle.23 What is more, depictions of real rather than imagined views, which presented basic elements of the landscape - rushing water, bare rock faces and formations, scrubby trees - were far from the classical and topographical landscapes being exhibited by most British painters. Several of Sandby's early Scottish landscapes are inscribed "delineated on the spot", presumably to indicate to the viewer that he had actually been at the scene and had not worked from existing prints or from his imagination.

Banks would certainly have seen some of Sandby's exhibited work and sketches by 1773 and he was probably attracted by Sandby's observational abilities. These are well exhibited in a masterly

18. See Herrmann 1986 p p . 69-72 for a list of Sandby's exhibited works. 1 9 . Roy lived at Miltonhead near Lanark, where his father (d. 1748) was a factor on the Milton estate (Gardiner 1977 p. 439) and it may be that Sandby accompanied him on a visit. Much of Lanarkshire was included in the survey of the Highlands rather than that of southern Scotland (which took place after Sandby had left) (Christian 1990 p. 19). 20. Holloway 1978 p. 47. 21. 1774 p. 120. 22. He clearly knew Zoffany's work at this time. Farington records Banks's regular attendance at exhibitions in the 1790s. 23. Herrmann lists his exhibited works (1986 p p . 69-72). Banks owned sixty- seven views of Windsor and Eton by Sandby (Hughes 1975 p. 457). 69

close-up chalk study of one of the Clyde falls (Fig. 17) .24 The bottom and verso are inscribed with Sandby's comments on the appearance of the water and rocks and very detailed colour notes. The latter indicate that at this stage he probably did not carry watercolours with him; he would have been used to finishing the Survey's maps with watercolour at the final stage back in Edinburgh (see below). Nothing could be less like contemporary topography than this sketch: the very careful study of the rock face and the stunted trees clinging to it (an oak and a larch are also identifiable above the falls), the projection and movement of the water, is combined with great freedom of handling and chiaroscuro. Banks could hardly have failed to be impressed with such work.

The habit of attending closely to his subject-matter never left Sandby and this would have appealed strongly to Banks; it was what he would have expected from his botanical artists. When he called on Farington on 12th December 1793, the famous diarist noted that "accuracy of drawing seems to be a principal recommendation to Sir Joseph". It seems likely that this disposition influenced both the type of work he chose to collect and the artists he employed. It is hardly surprising, therefore, that John Cleveley, an artist on the Icelandic Voyage with Banks in 1772, was taught by Sandby (he lived at Deptford near the Royal Military Academy where Sandby taught from 1768.)25 For Banks and other naturalists, accuracy, whether of verbal description or visual record, was vital to ensure recognition, comparison and verifiability by others. Drawings often had to stand in for specimens or situations unavailable in actuality. It goes without saying that Banks would also have been concerned with their aesthetic qualities.

Although Banks had toured in South Wales in 1767 and stayed with Pennant at Downing, Flintshire the same year,26 he had almost

24. A note by Sandby on the drawing records this as Bonnington Linn, while on the verso it is given as Cora Linn. Comparison with the watercolour and with prints of the different falls by various artists suggest that it is Cora Linn. 25. DNB; Ball 1985 p. 193. 26. Carter 1984 p p . 48-49. 70 certainly never visited Snowdonia.27 Sandby, however, had been there during a two week tour of North Wales in 1771 with his patron Sir Watkin Williams Wynne of Wynnstay (1749-1789) and would have been able to act as guide for the botanists.28 Banks is likely to have seen Sandby's drawings from this visit and no doubt desired some for himself. Sandby had possibly been teaching Wynne in London; at any rate he attended Wynne's coming of age at Wynnstay in 1770 and spent six weeks there teaching, painting views and scenery for the theatricals, for which he received two guineas a day. The following summer he accompanied his patron and friends on the tour mentioned above,29 which resulted in the publication of XII Views in North Wales (1776) dedicated to Wynne. Before the discovery of Robert Price's Welsh drawings of the late 1750s, this was thought to be the first picturesque tour (i.e. not botanical or antiquarian) of North Wales.30 It probably was the first where an artist accompanied his patron; no visual record of Sir George Lyttelton's journey of 1756 is known. The Buck brothers and John Boydell published topographical prints of North Wales from the 1740s.31

In 1771 Sandby received a salary and retainer for loss of teaching time.32 It is not known whether he was paid by Banks but no doubt his expenses were covered and he may once again have received a retainer as he was not wealthy, in 1768 Sandby became a founder-member of the Royal Academy and his status vis a vis Wynne and Banks can hardly be said to fall into the pennant-Griffith mould. There was clearly no arrangement such as had pertained to Banks's other artists; Sandby was not an employee and his productions did not belong to Banks. The

2 7 . See Samuel Brewer's Botanical Journey through Wales in the Year 1726 [actually 1726-27] . Brewer spent three months in Snowdonia (June-August) and the diary contains detailed descriptions of plants and their exact locations (Banks Collection NHM). 28. In 1774 Lightfoot wrote to a friend that he should "lay in Provisions and hire a Guide if you intend to visit Snowdon" (quoted Bowden 1989 p. 88). 29. Hughes 1972 p. 459. 30. Ibid. p. 463. 3 1 . Drawings of south Wales by Hendrik Danckerts and Francis Place date from the 1660s and 1670s (Moore 1976 p. 130). 32. Hughes op. cit. p. 459. 71

naturalist later dismissed John Frederick Miller for being unwise enough to publish some drawings which Banks considered his property.33 However, when the South Wales aquatints were published in 177534 (before the Wynne series) they were dedicated to Banks (whom Sandby looked on as a patron as well as a friend) and Charles Greville who had presented Sandby with the aquatint process.35 An example is the view of Chepstow Castle (Fig. 19) which can be compared with the watercolour mentioned earlier (Fig. 18).

The aquatints published in 1775 and 1776 drew on sketches made on both Welsh tours. Aquatint, "with its fine tonal qualities", Herrmann believes to have given great impetus to Sandby's "development as a landscape rather than a topographical artist", and that with the Welsh scenes he broke new ground in technique and subject matter. The latter (the Wynne set) Herrmann considers "strikingly successful... a memorable impression of some of the finest features of the Welsh landscape and concentrate less on subjects of architectural interest than the earlier set".36 These and the 108 plates of the The Virtuosi's Museum (1778) were often accompanied by "descriptions" taken from Pennant's Tours and elsewhere. The use of such material was not new; many of Boydell's prints drew on earlier first-hand accounts by well-known travellers and naturalists.37 However, the practice added weight to Sandby's vision while giving Pennant's words an important visual dimension which he would himself have appreciated. The letterpress for one view of Snowdon is taken from Lord Lyttelton's letter, already mentioned, and draws on his expressions of the sublime, while the view of Loch Leven38 is described (after Pennant) as "the most picturesque scenery of any in the Highlands".39

33. Lysaght 1971. p. 183. 3 4 . XII Views in South Wales. 3 5 . T.P. Sandby 1811 pp. 438-439. 36. 1986 pp. 45-46. 3 7 . see Views of England and Wales 38. Plates XXXVII and LXII. 3 9 . The perceived sublimity or picturesqueness of a scene did not necessarily preclude a naturalistic representation, as we shall see. 72

While a concentration on architecture in the Banks set reflects his antiquarian interests, the sites were visited for their botanizing potential. The plan seems to have been to retrace John Ray's itinerary of 1662 in reverse40 and as this included the areas around all the most important castles and scenery, Sandby's needs (and no doubt Banks's desire for topographical views) were well provided for. Sandby's views, Lightfoot's botanical record, some botanical notes made by Banks on his collecting papers, and of course their plant collections, form the surviving record of the 1773 tour. Lightfoot's field diary41 does not mention Sandby, nor is there any evidence that he joined in the plant hunting or had previously done any, or drew any plants. Lightfoot referred to this diary in a letter to Banks as his "Journal of Habitats", stressing the importance of increasing knowledge of the habitats of "plantes rariores",42 Sandby's drawings and any sketches (none are now known) would at least have reminded the botanists of some of these. Lightfoot records exact details of sites where plants where found - for instance, by the Avon, at Briton Ferry in south Wales, and around various castles and bridges43 - many of which were portrayed by Sandby.

Fieldwork in and around the Avon Gorge

The tour began at Bristol with several days spent botanizing around St. Vincent's Rocks and the Avon Gorge. Sandby's aquatints of the area may be from sketches made on this visit

40. Riddelsdell 1905 p. 295; Ray 1760. 4 1 . Published H.J. Riddelsdell 1905. 42. 24 August 1773 (Dawson 1958 p. 540). 4 3 . For example, 25 June: Sisymbrium múrale [?] or Bristol rockcress (Cruciferae) "on the Ledges of the Rocks beyond the new wellhouse a little above high water mark... out of flower"; 27 June: Sedum rupestre Linn. (Crassulaceae) "upon the rocks on both sides of the Wye above and below the bridge at Chepstow"; 7-8 July: "upon Breton [Briton] sands the following...." (Lightfoot gives a longish list of grasses (Gramineae) and various other plants). (Riddelsdell op. cit. p p . 297, 298, 300-301.) 73

(Fig. 20) .44 This was a favourite, easily accessible, spot with both naturalists and artists in the eighteenth century. Gilpin's remark in 1782 that "the scenery about the Hotwells is in a great degree picturesque"45 will certainly have increased artists' interest but many prints of the area date from much earlier in the century.46 From Ray's visits of 1662 and 1667 to Gideon Mantell's of 1832 and 1841, and no doubt beyond, the flora, fossils and exposed strata attracted investigation by many naturalists.47 It seems likely that sometimes such visitors would have met at the Hotwell,48 or even shared rooms in the Clifton hotels, taverns and boarding houses,-49 Edward Owen wrote of the "good company" during the season.50

Between 1748 and 1773 Owen, Lightfoot, Banks and Alexander Catcott recorded visits in their field diaries. In July 1748 Catcott noted his opinion of the formation of the gorge and that he "took a view" of St. Vincent's Rocks; in 1756 he described the area fully. His visits also yielded a list of the "scarcest plants growing near Bristol" and a discussion of the strata near the Hotwell.51 Catcott's field notes contain many references to "taking views" from vantage points overlooking interesting terrain, but apparently only one survives, an ink drawing of the Wye from a hill above Chepstow (Fig. 21), in which the detailed delineation of strata on the far bank stands out in an otherwise

4 4 . The original of this aquatint is in the BL Map Library (K. Top). For another view by Sandby see Plate LXVIII The Virtuosi's Museum. 45. 1782 p. 92. 46. Rough dating of prints (for instance those in Avon County Library) can be made from the presence or absence of particular buildings; many early Guides also contain prints. See also Adams 1962. 4 7 . Samuel Brewer and Jacob Dillenius came in 1726. See also Gough 1768 pp. 463-484; Eyles 1955 p p . 123-143; Kark 1981 (on Richard Bright and George Cumberland c. 1811). 48. See James 1955 p p . 234-236. 4 9 . Lists appear in most of the innumerable Guides relating to Bristol and to various spas. 50. 1754 p. 125. 51. Catcott's Tours in England and Wales 1748-1774. Entries for 14 and 29 July 1748 and 10 (possibly 30 - illegible) Nov. 1756. Rough notes in his 'Fossil Journal' (1757-78) include remarks on the strata at Hotwell; the plant catalogue is bound in at the back (Avon County MSS). These were never published. 74

'primitive' work.52 Small sketches of flints, stones and fossils are scattered through the diaries, and several of strata - a particular interest of Catcott's.53 The ability to draw would have greatly facilitated comparison of strata in different locations and affected his deliberations about the formation of the earth's surface.54 In a crucial period for earth science, such sketches would have had a special role in encouraging speculation.

Edward Owen's Observations on the Earth. Rocks. Stones and Minerals for Some Miles about Bristol (1754) were "written on the spot". "It does not require learning," he declared, "but observation, to say how the beds of earth lie in the cliff".55 indicating his view that theories should be based on empirical evidence. He also exhibits an awareness of two special qualities of recorded fieldwork: the particularity of its location in a specific spot and its standing as direct personal experience. Although Owen himself relies on written description, sketches such as Catcott's, done on the spot, also bear a heightened significance from their specificity. It will be remembered that Sandby wrote "delineated on the spot" on some of his drawings to establish that they represented his own observations of particular places at a particular time.

The situatedness of the original observations is embodied in the on-the-spot record, whether verbal or visual. The subsequent value of that record consists to a large extent in its ability to be verified and compared with other observations (at the same

52. See 17 May and 28 June 1748; the date on the Wye drawing (October 1757) conflicts with that given in the text (August 24th) suggesting he returned to take this important view. Neve and Porter completely ignore Catcott's drawings and do not appear to have considered their purpose. 53. Neve and Porter 1977 p p . 47ff. They list Catcott's tours (p. 55) and stress the importance of his fieldwork, especially relating to strata. See Secord on the later significance of stratigraphy within geology and the broad appeal of the focus on the strata (1986 pp. 24-25 and p. 35). 54. Neve and Porter op. cit. p. 41. on new questions and new observations. They point out his difficulties in reconciling conflicting evidence in the strata with his overall concepts (p. 38; note 90 p. 59). 55. 1754. pp. iii-iv. 75 place, or of similar phenomena at different locations). This parallels desired criteria, including repeatability, for a scientific experiment. Ophir and Shapin's discussion of the place of knowledge provides a model which can be extended to the practical activity of fieldwork, whose situated character was often vital in investigations of the earth and in considerations of plant and animal habitats and distribution.56 Although many fieldworkers only collected specimens for others to classify, name and interpret, some prominent naturalists were equally at home in the field or the cabinet - Owen, Banks, Lightfoot, William Hooker and Robert Brown, for instance - and their efforts integrated the two places of knowledge.57

Lightfoot had searched for plants around the Avon Gorge prior to the 1773 visit - in 1765 and 1767. Banks had also been earlier (May-June 1767); his journal gives the exact location of plants found at St. Vincent's Rocks and near the river (26-27 May), including a veronica (19 June) to which he was directed by Catcott when inspecting the latter's fossils on 18 June. There is also a lyrical description of the river, the rocks, the beauty and variety of trees on the banks.58 Artists were arracted here from an early date. Francis Place (1647-1728), described as "the most important draughtsman and etcher of landscape in the whole Restoration period",59 visited Bristol in

56. 1991 P P • 3-21. Botanical and zoological gardens are mentioned among other institutionalised sites of knowledge accessible to the "officially competent and authorised inhabitant" (p. 14), however, these were created from knowledge gleaned earlier from natural sites. 5 7 . While power was in the hands of those who interpreted the data, Anne Secord has shown that many humble plant collectors were keen to acquire botanical knowledge; this enhanced their status in their own circle and often more widely (1994a, 1994b). See Porter on the interplay between fieldwork and theory in the seventeenth century (1977 p. 79), instances of which abound in the next 200 years. On Hooker and other Glasgow University botanists who undertook and encouraged fieldwork, see Allen 1976 pp. 107-108; on Brown's Australian botanizing see Vallence 1989. 58. 'Journal of an excursion to Eastbury and Bristol, May-June 1767' (ed) S.G. Perceval 1899. Leigh Woods, across the river from the Hotwell, features prominently in landscapes by members of the Bristol School and visiting artists from around 1810. See Greenacre 1973 for a full discussion of this School. 59. Ogden 1955 p. 114-115. 76

1678 en route to one of his sketching and fishing tours to Wales.60 Although Place associated with William Hollar and various antiquaries at York, some of his studies of rock faces, cliffs and quarries, are quite unlike topographical work of the time.61

A few drawings and prints of the Avon Gorge date from the early eighteenth century: Sir James Thornhill came in 1717,62 the Bucks in 1734; Richard Gough records a few others, dating between 1747 and 1750, including Francis Wheatley.63 We know that Malchair's "first of the Drawings after Nature"64 were made in the Bristol area from 1757 to 1759, including (7 August 1757) a study of a rock face in the Gorge. Samuel Hieronymus Grimm's pen and wash drawings of the gorge of 1789 have been called "unconventional views... showing a curiosity seldom met with in native topographers of the period".65 Their smallness suggests that they were once also in a sketchbook. Like Malchair, Grimm pays close attention to the surface of the rocks but he had previous experience drawing such scenery: his early reputation for topography had brought him a commission in 1758 to draw the mountains of the Bernese Oberland for Gottleib Grüner's Die Ri saebirae des Schweizerlandes 1760.66

By the 1790s a steady stream of landscape painters were visiting the area, no doubt encouraged by the publication in 1793 of two guides by artists. Edward Shiercliffe, who lived in Bristol, illustrated his Bristol and Hotwell Guide with his own views,

60. Parris 1973 p. 26; Herrmann 1973 p. 15-16. 61. See sketchbook 1699-1717 (V&A 91.A.7). Unfortunately the sketchbook of the 1678 tour (91.A.8) is missing and I am unable to check whether any of the «coastal scenes" it contains are of the Avon Gorge. 62. 'View at the Hotwells 17 August 1717', pen and sepia wash (Bristol City Art Gallery, reproduced Adams 1962). Several old prints in the Avon County Library, Bristol must date from the eighteenth century because some of the buildings shown were later demolished (this also applies to prints in early Guides to the locality). 63. Gough 1768 p. 476. 64. Corpus Christi 'Sketchbook II'. 65. Adams 1962. Nos. 3 and 4. Pen and grey wash. 14 x 19 cm. and 19 x 14 cm. respectively. 66 . Clay 1941 pp. 6-16. 77 including several of the Gorge. Those in A Picturesque Guide to Rath. Bristol Hotwells, The River Avon and Surrounding Country by Julius Caesar Ibbetson, John Laporte and John Hassell, who all became landscape painters of some renown, show more evidence of close study, including the trees and "stupendous cliffs".67 The Gorge and St. Vincent's Rocks, like the Peak District and other mountainous regions, seem to have called forth a curiosity among artists which precluded idealising. Fieldwork undertaken here by naturalists will also have stimulated their interest and provided a model for the closer study of the terrain.

Rotanizina in Wales

In Sandby's watercolour of Briton Ferry, near Neath (Fig. 22) the botanists are seen dashing to escape the incoming tide, which rises eight feet at this point. Banks's and Lightfoot's field notes include plants found on the sands here, from which records, incidentally, this sketch can be dated to within two days.68 According to a note in the artist's hand on the back of the watercolour, the view was taken at Banks's request. Sandby also remarks that he was "so attentive in making this drawing correct as not to perceive the tide approach".69 It is unlikely to have been painted on the spot70 and as far as I am aware there is no evidence that he carried watercolours.

A watercolour of Snowdon from near Dolbadarn Castle (Fig. 23) is signed and dated 1764. This date is a mystery as there is no evidence that Sandby was in North Wales before 1770, or visited Snowdon before 1771. In the opinion of various art historians who have considered this painting, it is a synthesis of several views which Sandby saw as prints, such as those by the Bucks

67. Ibbetson returned to live and work, in Yorkshire; Laporte and Hassell became popular teachers. Artists who drew here at this time include Turner, Girtin, Nicholas Pococke. 6 8 . 7 or 8 July (Lightfoot 1773); Banks's notes on his collecting papers (Banks Archive NHM). Harold Carter kindly pointed this out to me. 69. Quoted Great British Watercolours 1750-1850 1993 p. 308. 70. Wilton and Lyles ibid. p. 132. 78

(1742) and Boydell (1750) (Figs. 25 and 26). Paul Joyner says that Sandby exaggerated the height of the rocks71 (although the Ordnance Survey gives the castle's height above the lake as 150ft.); the far shore seems closer than it actually is. It is doubtful, however, whether he could have depicted the rock face on the right in such a naturalistic manner without having spent some time observing it; no earlier print is sufficiently similar. The tower itself is also remarkably accurate. If the date is correct, and Sandby sometimes made mistakes,72 my theory about his close observation of the rocks does not need to be discarded, as I hope to show in the next section on the Highland Survey. It seems possible that Sandby mistakenly wrote 1764 for 1774 (watercolours from 1773 drawings would have been made the following year). Banks would almost certainly have wanted his visit to this important botanical site to be recorded; Lightfoot's Journal shows they were plant hunting on Snowdon, around Llanberis and Dolbadarn Castle between 2-5 August which would have given Sandby plenty of time to sketch. The acquatint published in 1776 (Fig. 24), however, could have resulted from a sketch made on his earlier visit.

On the 1773 tour Sandby would have been kept continually aware of the situatedness of botanical fieldwork and its firm basis in study, an experience with similarities to his work on the Highland Survey. One can also imagine him having - without much choice in the matter - to listen to endless discussions relating to plant habitats, nomenclature and classification between Lightfoot and Banks, to say nothing of watching them (and the other botanists they met en route)73 scrambling about from dawn till dusk on some remote hillside. It seems certain that the effect of experiencing his companions' attitude and field practice at first hand kept his own vision focussed on the natural world. After all, he might, like the majority of his fellow Academicians at that time, have taken a different path.

71. 1990 p. 78. 72. Ball op. cit. p. 271. 73. Lightfoot 1773 mentions several. 79

This can be seen in his "real views", as Gainsborough referred to them, which, while frequently of castles, great houses and so on, are neither "mere topography" nor idealised visions. Although not pure landscapes, they indicate that Sandby increasingly paid attention not only to atmospheric effects,74 but to the appearance of particular features of the terrain and to trees. His later ability to portray trees naturalistically (Fig. 27) was no doubt fostered by this training; in early works some awareness of different tree species is apparent, but an understanding of growth patterns and structure associated with a naturalistic treatment is lacking.

Sandby's collaboration with naturalists in the field made him aware of the possibility of extending the traditional criteria of topographical art. His undoubted technical skills were combined with a strong sense of place, a habit of close observation, and understanding of his subject-matter. This combination of accuracy with aesthetic quality - uncommon at the time - made his work of especial interest and value to Banks and Pennant.

Collaboration IV: Sandby with William Roy on the Highland Survey

Sandby's experience of working with Colonel David Watson (c. 1713-1761) and William Roy (1726-1790) on the Military Survey of the Highlands from 1747-1751 was fundamental for his study, rather than idealisation, of nature. Like Price in the Alps and Griffith travelling around with Pennant, he found himself precipitated directly into the fieldwork. Sandby's role in the field and his contributions to the Survey, and Roy's status as a naturalist, are considered in the context of contemporary surveying practice. An examination of the teaching of drawing to surveyors throws further light on the function of landscapes in surveying and cartography.

7 4 . Wilton 1993 p. 132. 80

The foundations of Sandbv's naturalism

Sandby's exposure to wild landscape - well before other artists - in remote, scarcely visited, areas of the Highlands,75 sleeping under canvas and travelling on horseback and on foot over the summer months,76 is a perfect example of the direct engagement with the landscape which was of such importance to the development of naturalism in landscape painting. On Sandby's death his son wrote that the period with the Survey was probably "the source of his eminence as a landscape painter, at least in the formation of his peculiar style"; his "correct and faithful habit" in delineating nature developed from the need for "particular accuracy in filling up the plans".77 This characteristic was not only attractive to wealthy landowners seeking "real views" of their estates; it also appealed to naturalists such as Banks and Pennant.

Sandby's contribution to the Military Survey and the pioneering aspects of his artistic endeavours (see Fig. 28) in the Fair Copy of the "Great Map" as it came to be called, have been discussed in the context of cartography by Jessica Christian and Yolande Hodson.78 My concern, however, is not so much with the map itself as with Sandby's learning process with the surveyors in the field, and his role in their fieldwork.

7 5 . John Slezer (who became Chief Engineer with the army in Scotland in 1671) visited and depicted in his Theatrum Scotiae of 1693 many Scottish cities and castles, even as far north as Inverness, but he did not venture into the Highlands (see Cavers 1993) . 76. Arrowsmith 1807 p. 7. 7 7 . T.P. Sandby 1811 p. 437. I have also found the following particularly helpful on Sandby: Herrmann 1986; Holloway and Errington 1978; Joyner 1983. 78. Christian 1990; Hodson (O'Donaghue) 1977 and 1992-93. On cartography and military surveying generally see: Seymour 1980; Hodson (O'Donaghue) 1974. Hodson's forthcoming PhD thesis will certainly increase our knowledge of military cartography in the eighteenth century. On art and cartography see Alfrey 1990. 81 application to the Board of Ordnance

Thomas Sandby, Paul's elder bother, joined the Board of Ordnance Drawing Room at the Tower of London in 1742 and two years later was sent to Scotland, serving with the Duke of Cumberland from 1745-46.79 There is no evidence that Paul worked in the Drawing Room with his brother80 but their biographer, Luke Herrmann, believes he was taught by Thomas.81 Prior to 1776 draughtsmen in the Drawing Room were trained in a common drawing style by copying standard patterns of fortifications; after that date they also learned surveying techniques in the field.82 Hodson says that the use of watercolour washes in mapping was being taught here systematically by the 1740s83 and Herrmann notes that Thomas Sandby showed considerable skill in this area.84

In 1746 Paul presented some drawings to the Board of Ordnance. One of these 'Prospect of the Entrance into the Tower taken from the back of the Stone Kitchen' (in pen, ink and grey wash) is signed and dated '1746.7' (presumably meaning July 1746). The words "presented to the Board as a Specimen of his performance/ vide Minutes 12 Mar, 1746" appear on the bottom margin. Herrmann believes this work, which differs from the eight related drawings (probably "carefully copied from prints"),85 was an "on-the-spot drawing executed at the request of the Board as a demonstration of the young artist's topographical skills";86 he calls Paul's draughtsmanship here "competent but uninspired".87 These drawings appear to be the only surviving documents relating to Sandby joining the Board; they include no copies of

79. Herrmann 1986 p. 12. 80. Minutes for this period are missing, presumably destroyed in the fire in 1841 (Seymour 1980 p. Ill). 81. Op. cit. p. 14. 82. Marshall p. 4. Kim Sloan records that from 1749-50 Alexander Cozens taught able seamen and young officers at Christ's Hospital basic drawing skills to record coastlines, harbours, fortifications and topographical details (1986 p p . 21-22). 83. 1992-93 p. 4. 84. Op. cit. p. 12. 8 5 . V&A E1119-1931. The others are in the BM Print Room (102-7). 86. 1986 p. 79. 87. Ibid. p. 12. 82

fortifications, so it is likely that he never studied at the Tower. His submission of work may, in fact, have been directly connected with his next known whereabouts: not only is one of the drawings of Edinburgh Castle, but in 1747, aged about sixteen, he joined the newly created Military Survey of the Highlands as "Chief Draughtsman of the Fair Plan",88 remaining until the task was completed in 1751.89

The summer was spent in the field, the winter months "laying down and finishing the work" in the Ordnance Office in Edinburgh Castle.90 Although little documentary evidence of Sandby's life in Edinburgh outside the Office has come to light, something of the circle in which he moved is known. In addition to officers of the Survey, it included John Clerk of Eldin, son of Sir John Clerk of Penicuik, and Clerk's brother-in-law, Robert Adam (1728-1792) who, with his brother John, succeeded their father as master mason to the Board of Ordnance.91 Clerk, Sandby and Adam undertook sketching expeditions in the late 1740s and early 1750s; the latter executed Scottish views and imaginative landscapes and John Fleming believes Sandby gave him "hints" on watercolour painting around 1750.92 Sandby and Roy probably first met the astronomer and physician, Dr. James Lind, in Edinburgh, his home until his appointment as royal physician at Windsor.93

It would seem that Sandby learned his part in the fieldwork virtually from scratch. William Roy, aged twenty-one at the start of the Survey, was in sole charge of the fieldwork for the first two years, although responsibility rested with the experienced military surveyor, Colonel Watson, who conceived the

88. Arrowsmith p. 7. 89. The survey of southern Scotland continued until 1755. 90. Arrowsmith p. 7; Hodson 1977 p. 15. 91. T.P. Sandby 1811 p. 438; Holloway and Errington 1978 p. 35. Fleming mentions other "cronies" of the Adams brothers besides Sandby: John MacGowan the antiquary, and David Hume (1962 p p . 100-101); the Adams visited Thomas and Paul Sandby at Windsor in 1756 (p. 111). 92. Harrison and Halsby 1990 p. 34; Fleming 1962 p. 85 9 3 . According to Playfair, Lind was also friendly with James Hutton (1797 p. 59) • 83

idea of the Survey.94 Where Roy, later famous as the prime mover behind the Ordnance Survey of Britain, acquired his early training, is not certain, but his map-making was apparently of a high standard.95 He probably learned basic surveying skills on the Milton Estate at Miltonhead, Lanark, where his grandfather and father were factors,96 but it is likely that he also had some experience with the Board of Ordnance before his 1747 appointment "as Assistant Quarter-Master" to Watson.97 R .A. Skelton, in his book on the Survey, mentions Roy's abilities in "instrumental observation, eye sketching, map construction and topographical drawing".98

.qnyvevinCT in the Eighteenth Century

The status of surveyors in mid-eighteenth century is difficult to assess accurately, although in his history of the Ordnance Survey W.A. Seymour comments on its "gradual improvement from Tudor to Georgian times" and the "greatly enhanced professional status" of the land surveyor in the eighteenth century.99 Some idea of the required level of education can be obtained by examining a selection of the numerous practical works on the subject, which range from highly technical textbooks to quite simple manuals.100 The most important and popular seem to have been those by Aaron Rathbone The Surveyor (1616) ,■ William Leybourn The Comnleat Surveyor (five editions 1650-1722) ; Samuel Wylde The Practical Surveyor (seven editions 1725-80) ; Henry Wilson Geodesia Catenea (six editions 1736-69) ; and Henry Coggeshall The Art of Practical Measuring (seven editions 1732- 67). Leybourn, author of the first book on astromony in English,

94. Arrowsmith p. 7; Hodson 1992 p. 2. 95. Hodson 1977 p. 3; Gardiner p. 439. 96. Gardiner ibid. p. 439. 9 7 . Roy p. 386; Gardiner op. cit. p. 440. 98. 1967 p. 2. 99. 1980 p. 1. 100. See Bennett and Brown 1983 p. l on this subject. This catalogue is a valuable source of information on early surveyors, surveying techniques and instruments. 84 was a mathematician, teacher and professional surveyor.101 His treatise (1722 edition) is very detailed and technical with a section devoted to trigonometrical tables and their application and twenty pages on the function and operation of surveying instruments, probably very similar to the rather primitive ones used on the Highland Survey.102 Sketchbooks are not mentioned but instructions are given for the ruling and use of field books103 and he describes at length the function of a plain table made to his own design (Fig. 29). Wilson and Coggeshall seem to have catered for those with little or no mathematics, since they advocated use of the chain alone. Wylde's book is less technical than Leybourn's, but includes directions for using a plain table and theodolite as well as two chapters for beginners which include instructions for measuring with the chain. The majority of surveying books available at this time appear to fall into the last two categories.

From these works we can surmise that surveying was either a gentlemanly occupation often related to navigation and astronomy (concerns of natural philosophy) for those with practical knowledge of mathematical instruments and calculations, or a straight-forward, often small-scale operation confined to the measurement of fields and boundaries.104 The chain was an essential part of surveying equipment but if measurement was limited to its use, mathematics was virtually unnecessary.105 Roy's early mapping abilities and the society in which he and Sandby moved in Edinburgh suggest that he was in the former category, which is confirmed by his later prestigious activities in triangulation; his Ordnance Survey work was acclaimed as "the

101. Richeson p. 113. 102. Roy 1785 pp. 386-387. 103. 1650 pp. 54-55. 104. Bennett and Brown op. cit. p. 1. 105. I am grateful to Stephen Johnston for discussing this question with me. See also Bennett and Brown op. cit. p. 9. Roy's General Instructions for the officers of Engineers employed in Surveying c. 1785 includes references to "trigonometrical computation" as well as to the use of telescope and compass (see also the draft version) (PRO MSS). 85 model of scientific accuracy".106 Surveying and cartography had much in common with other field activities directed to obtaining knowledge of the earth. Roy was a practical man but his mathematical prowess and interests in natural philosophy, archaeology107 and antiquarianism, which no doubt began while he was working on the Survey, show that he had much in common with other field naturalists such as Pococke, Banks and Pennant.

Roy and Sandby would have worked closely together at this important stage of their careers, not only in Edinburgh on the Original Protraction prepared from the field notes, and on the Fair Copy of the map, but also in the field, especially at the start when only one surveying team was employed.108 What might an artist be expected to contribute to such a project? Nicholas Alfrey, in his essay 'Landscape and the Ordnance Survey 1795- 1820' asserts that the whole enterprise conducted by the Ordnance Survey together with the rise of landscape painting in the same period must be understood as part of a larger phenomenon: the desire to come to a fuller understanding of the physical world. Representations of various kinds had a vital part to play in this larger project of description, documentation and accumulation.109 Of course, Alfrey's concern is with a later period - although I argue for an earlier date than is generally accepted for the "rise" he mentions - but this comment assists in situating landscape painting firmly within the context of investigation of the natural world. Alfrey also suggests some differences between landscape painting and cartography. Military draughtsmen, he says, "operated within a self-contained world" and were concerned with terrain not scenery. For them the landscape must be rendered spatially, as a dense network of related features, not experienced from selected vantage points or in terms of linear routes marked out in scenic stations. Furthermore their drawings have no horizon, no aerial perspective and no distance.110

106. Widmalm 1990 p. 203. See Widmalm on Roy's membership of "the Banksian Learned Empire" (pp. 184-186), and Feldman 1985 on Roy's experiments in measuring heights with the barometer. 107. With the publication of his Antiquities in 1793 Roy became the "acknowledged authority on Roman Scotland" and was regarded as the "founder of modern field archaeology" (Gardiner p. 444). 108. Skelton p. 2; Gardiner p. 440. 109. 1990 p. 24. See also Daniels 1993. 110. Ibid. pp. 24 and 23. 86

Sandby's landscapes of the Survey period are exceptions to this rule, since they usually combine crucial information on the terrain with the qualities mentioned by Alfrey as lacking in military drawings; their interest therefore extends beyond their original purpose (see Figs. 30-35, 43) .

It is interesting that Robert Dawson (1776-1860), Draftsman to the Board of Ordnance 1791-1836 and "major shaping influence on the British National Style of military drawing",111 in his brief 2^8 03 bourse of Instruction, includes nothing at all on taking views.112 His idea of landscape or "hill sketching" was not scenic but, as Alfrey says, "an eagle's eye view straight down on the peaks".113 The "Great Map" of the Highlands presents such a view as the norm, as might be expected, although a mountain or cliff face occasionally appears from a human standpoint. On Sheet 24 of the Fair Copy (Fig. 28), to take one example, 'Ben Tigh' (north of Loch Lochy) stands out, since Sandby has shown it as it might appear in a painting. Was this artist's licence, a lapse, or was it intentional? The mountain is higher than others nearby and steep on all sides, particularly the east face, which is depicted, in customary manner, with the blackest paint.114 This suggests its insurmountability (it might otherwise be assumed to indicate an excellent vantage point of the whole area). On the other hand, Ben Nevis on Sheet 23 of the Fair Copy is shown from an eagle's eye view, although it could perhaps be climbed from the west (the eastern side is again pitch black). On the same Sheet the horizontal ridges of the strata are conspicuous on 'Ben Alligan' and some of the other Torridon mountains, often another indication of steepness. It seems likely, therefore, that an occasional human viewpoint was strategically important, and presumably Sandby would have been directed in this by Roy.

111. Ibid. p. 25. See also Hodson 1974 p p . 3-8 on Dawson and his son R.K. Dawson and their teaching techniques. . A Course of Instruction in Military Surveying and Plan Drawing Proposed given to the Assistant Engineers under the Tuition of R Dawson PRO MSS. 113. Op. cit. p. 25. 114. Christian says the perspective view was "brought in to stress especially dominant landscape features" (op. cit. p. 10). 87 instructions in relief drawing and taking views

The complete Fair Copy of the Highlands area is hugely impressive and gives a daunting sense of height and distance. It has been called "a notable landmark in the history of British cartography" and contrasts with the "unfinished appearance" of the map of southern Scotland, on which Sandby did not work.115 The colours used apparently conform to the conventions of all contemporary military maps as does the technique of aligning the brush strokes with the direction of slope, with progressive gradations of tone to indicate steepness.116 Such experience in the use of chiaroscuro would have been of great significance for Sandby's later practice. His highly painterly interpretation of this technique was first noted by Christian;117 Dawson's mapping style is far more restrained but a similar method is employed. James Holloway's remark that Sandby adopted mapping colours for his landscapes of that period,118 is in line with Thomas Paul Sandby's comment that "for many years no colours were in general use except such as were peculiarly adapted for the staining of maps and plans".119 Faint pencil marks are visible under some areas of relief. On the Original Protraction (for instance Sheet 46), north-south lines are ruled at 1/2 inch intervals in faint pen or dark pencil; the west-east lines are also lightly pencilled in at 2 inch intervals; the intersections of these lines are marked with small pencilled circles, the scale being 2 in. to 2000 yards. Fields and trees are shown in stylised form on both the Fair Copy and the Original Protraction - no room for artist's licence or realism here - although those on the former are given trunks, lacking on the earlier version. On the Fair Copy, tree-covered hillsides gradually peter out into dark cliffs rising above the tree line (see area along the shore of Loch Lochy on Sheet 24 (Fig. 28)) . Presumably knowledge of the extent of trees was important, for purposes of cover and fuel.

115. Hodson 1977 p. 4. 116. Christian 1990 p. 20. 117. Ibid. p. 20. 118. Holloway p. 34. 119. T.P. Sandby 1811 p. 440. 88

Roy's plans in his Antiquities (1793) retain a similar mapping style and stylisation of fields, trees and relief, although in one print by Basire (an elevation of a Roman Fort) firs and round-headed trees are distinguishable from each other and cast shadows. Roy, following the antiquarian tradition, includes several views such as 'View of Duntocher Bridge' by Farington (1792), and 'View of the Eldon Hills', perhaps his own work.120

Dawson's Course of Instruction indicates that "Sketching (or Expressing) Ground", which might in the earlier period have included views, refers almost entirely to the drawing of relief, for which he also advocates working from models, such as stones.121 However he also taught by example122 and his later cadets, according to Alfrey, were given instruction in drawing "panoramic views and perspective sketches" from nature.123 Dawson advocated the "natural history principle of drawing", which would "require the physical substance and geological structure and formation of the land to be understood".124 It seems unlikely that Sandby, or Roy for that matter, would have understood stratification, although he depicted it on the Fair Copy and, as in the Clyde drawing (Fig. 17), at close quarters. Certain aspects, such as changes in rock formations between different areas, or the horizontality or otherwise of ridges, could hardly be ignored. One wonders whether Clerk (whose collaboration with Hutton has been mentioned) saw the Great Map, or perhaps Sandby's sketches, and related these to his own observations of strata in mines. He also owned about thirty drawings and watercolours by Sandby,125 some of which may have included rock faces.

There appears to have been a tendency in Ordnance Survey practices in the nineteenth century to stick more closely than

120. Plates XVI, XXXVI and XXI. 121. 1803 p. 5. Original drawings by Dawson of stones, and hills taken from them, are in the PRO. 122. Ibid. p. 4. 123. Alfrey op. cit. p.26. 124. Quoted Seymour 1980 p. 52. 125. Clerk 1855 p. xii; Craig 1978 p. 16. 89 previously to methods designed to reproduce features of the landscape as they would appear on the map itself - to which improvements in instruments and methods for calculating heights and angles must have contributed. Surviving records show, however, that the drawing of views from nature continued to be taught to military draughtsmen, which indicates their perceived value. Landscapes, according to Hodson, were "consistently advocated as an explanatory aid to map reading throughout the nineteenth century".126

Maps alone found insufficient

Seymour points out that "lands, depots and forts for the defence of the realm" (especially around the coast) were the primary responsibility of the Board of Ordnance in its early days, with cartography playing only a minor role.127 He quotes from a document dating from the reorganisation of the Board of Ordnance in 1685,128 which stipulates these qualifications for Chief Engineer: To take Distances, Heights, Depths, Surveys of Land, Measures of Solid Bodies, and to cut any part of ground to a proportion given... and to be perfect in Architecture, civil and military... to draw and design the situation of any place, in their due Prospects, Uprights and Perspective... to keep perfect draughts of the Fortifications, Forts and Fortresses of Our Kingdoms, their situations, figure, profile....129

That detailed information regarding the exact position and impregnability or otherwise of castles and other fortresses continued to be required, is shown by a sheet of plans and views of castles in Argyllshire (Fig. 32),130 drawn by Sandby in 1748 when he accompanied Watson and twenty soldiers - they may have been expecting some trouble in this remote area - to report on

126. 1974 p. 2. 127. Op. cit. p. 2. 128. Also mentioned by Clode 1869 I p p . 456-457. 129. 1869 Vol. I p. 3. No date given. 130. NLS Map Library. The original of this is recorded in Register of Draughts ■i n the Drawing Room p. 16 (PRO MSS) . 90 fortifications.131 One view of Castle Duart in Mull on this sheet also features in a wash drawing of the same date (Fig. 31) ,132 An undated ink sketch of another aspect of this castle (Fig. 30)133 appears to have been made from a boat quite close to the castle, whereas the finished view is more distant. We know from Sandby's application to the Board that he could already draw buildings and on this occasion his work, if not actually supervised by Watson, must have received his approval. Sandby's ability to execute such sketches, as well as to work them up into finished drawings, would have been of value to both Watson and Roy. Comparison of these with his application sketch reveals the improvement in Sandby's skills at this type of drawing. These views and one of Dumbarton Castle (Fig. 33)134 suggest that a plan or map was insufficiently accurate, for military purposes, at indicating the relative height or exact steepness of hills. Such information might be vital in the event that a cliff or hill needed to be scaled - for instance to take a fortress - but, as we have seen, the recording of relief on maps was a very inexact science until the introduction of contours in the nineteenth century. It is safe to assume, therefore, that these views were essential to the Survey.

Apart from information about various fortifications, it seems likely that Sandby's watercolour views and etchings would have furnished, in an easily assimilated form, important additional information and explanatory material to that recorded in the field notebooks - showing distances, scale and practicality of access to mountain areas. In the delightful small watercolour by Sandby (Fig. 34) a surveying team can be seen at work near Loch Rannoch in 1749 (see also the slightly larger sketch (Fig. 35)). In the foreground, a surveyor - confirmed by the date to be Roy - uses a circumferentor (a form of surveying compass) attached

131. Holloway pp. 33-34. 132. NGS Print Room. 133. NLW; see Joyner 1983 p. 12 (Cat. No 9). 134. Probably also dates from 1747 (Christian p. 20); other views in Dunbartonshire, presumably on their route to the Western Isles, are dated 1747 . 91 to a plane table, while in mid-distance two assistants may be seen measuring with a chain. Flags were carried to mark the "fore and back stations".135 Further observations of the terrain and vegetation, while not necessarily of military interest, are presented by Sandby in this drawing. The tree on the right, although a typical framing device of topographical art, Sandby has attempted to depict as a rowan (Sorbus aucuparia), indigenous to the area; the rock face in the distance, however, has been more closely observed and may explain how Sandby came to be able to draw the rocks in the Snowdon watercolour so well (Fig. 23), never, perhaps, having seen them.136 In addition to showing relative heights and possible routes over or around this group of hills, the weathering and layered erosion of the steepest section can be clearly seen. On the Fair Copy there are one or two areas where this drawing might have been made, although the configuration does not conform exactly to Sandby1s. On the map such areas are depicted in ink and darkish-grey wash, indicating the relative steepness of the rock face.137

Military drawing at Woolwich

Two documents survive which show exactly what cadets were taught on their drawing courses at the Royal Military Academy during Sandby's tenure of the post of Chief Drawing Master from 1768 (in which year he also became a Royal Academician) until 1797. According to Fleming-Williams, Sandby and those landscape painters who followed him were chosen because they were "best

135. Arrowsmith p. 7. Another drawing of a young man sketching, in Sandby's sketchbook of the period (NMS) may also represent Roy (Fig. 36). Herrmann thought this a self portrait (1965 p p . 46-47) but this is very unlikely as Sandy was not left-handed (see Fig. 37) and all contemporary drawings show him to have been more slender. 136. Geologists tell me that, in terms of their appearnce, weathering is the most important factor; both areas would have been affected by the same extreme heat and glaciation and the movement of the ice would have caused similar striations on the surface of the rock faces. 137. For instance, on Sheet 16, near "Kenloch" at the east end of the lake. See also Sheet 10, Original Protraction. 92 qualified to teach topographical configuration".138 Sandby was at the height of his powers while at Woolwich, his considerable influence leading to officers proficient in drawing being employed and a perceptible improvement in the illustrations which were included with reports.139 It seems likely that he would have had some say in writing the syllabus in view of his experience with the Survey and his status as a landscape painter; certainly that experience would have affected his teaching methods. Rules and Orders for Roval Military Academy of 1776140 show that the Chief Drawing Master was expected to teach, among other things: the best Method of describing the various kinds of Ground with its Inequalities, as necessary for the drawing of Plans; the taking of views from Nature, the Drawing of civil and military Architecture and the Practice of Perspective while "the first Rudiments of Drawing in Black Lead and Indian Ink, copying Landscapes" formed part of his deputy's duties.141

The other document, dating from 1792, is a prospectus for the course of studies for cadets. On the Drawing Course they were taught to put perspective in practice, which qualifies them for drawing from Nature; teaches them the effect of light and shade; and makes them acquainted also with Aerial Perspective... then to take views about Woolwich and other places; which teaches them at the same time to break ground and forms the eye to the knowledge of it.142 The emphasis on chiaroscuro and aerial perspective strongly suggests Sandby's involvement. The term "to break ground" is clearly explained in Robert Kearsley Dawson's manuscript Essays t-nward the Expression of Ground in Topographical Plans (1815-16) which he submitted for his candidacy for the Corps of Royal Engineers.143 It can be taken to represent his method of

138. 'Drawing Masters' (Hardie 1968 Vol. Ill Appendix II p. 252). Among these were William Alexander, Sawrey Gilpin, John Callow and Thales Fielding. Drawing was taught in the Mathematical School at Christ's Hospital and included the copying of fortifications, coastlines, etc. (ibid. pp. 213-215) . Most RMA records were destroyed by fire in 1873 (Herrmann 1986 p p . 25-26) . 139. Fleming-Williams op. cit. p. 216. Some of Sandby's pupils are listed in Hardie Vol. II P P • 250-251. 140. PRO M S . 141. Ibid. p. 20. 142. Quoted Herrmann 1986 p. 26. 143. BL Map Library. He was the son of Robert Dawson. 93

teaching this subject and suggests possible ways in which Sandby might have refined, for his own military teaching, the methods he learned in preparing the Fair Copy.

There is no text, the drawings stand alone, although one or two have captions; the progressive method is very clearly and simply, but fully, expressed, in spite of the relative complexity of the subject. The first section - 'Essays in Shading and Breaking Level Surfaces' contains six pages (each 28 x 46 cm.) of drawings in ink and watercolour of different types of flat terrain, beginning in each case with a simple pale wash to which various features are added. The final drawing shows two wooded and two rocky areas. The first drawing (of five) in 'Essays in Shading and Breaking Declivities' (Section Two) (Fig. 38) presents the stages of shading of flat vertical surfaces (such as cliffs), of curved surfaces and of convex and concave areas. In the former case, a grey wash is covered with slightly darker brush strokes, very precisely and quite closely applied, both vertically and horizontally (not cross-hatched), giving a slightly rough appearance. Curved surfaces are depicted with numerous short strokes following the direction of the slope, the greater its angle, the darker the brush strokes (as on the Fair Copy). Other drawings present these different declivities in various types of landscape and in views - of actual places in Wales and at the Giant's Causeway, for instance. Finally, Dawson shows how mathematical forms are applied to drawing single hills (Fig. 39) and to chains of hills and includes a "Plan and Geometrical View of the Mountain of Snowdon in North Wales".

Fieldwork on the Survey: learning by doing

Sandby's duties in the field can only be surmised but they are likely to have been connected with the principal winter job of transforming the sketches, measurements and other field data into the sections of the Original Protraction from which the 94

Fair Copy was then prepared. Maps, as Alfrey says, are "interpretations of landscape... their quality depends on the skills of individual draughtsmen".144 The delineation of relief is Sandby's most obvious contribution to the enterprise. Before the introduction of contours in the nineteenth century, as we know from all contemporary military publications, relief was the most problematic area. On many early maps hills are represented by mole-hill like humps, all exactly the same size and shape, with perhaps some shading on one side,145 but their value in military terms depended on their ability to portray mountains as solid masses and to indicate relative height.146 Sandby would not necessarily have needed to interpret the surveyors' measurements of distance, relative height and angles himself (although he probably acquired some ability at this); it can be assumed that Roy would have advised or helped him transform the facts and figures into a cartographic representation.

Understanding the role played by sketching during fieldwork may also give us an idea of Sandby's duties, which no doubt evolved as he grew more confident and knowledgeable. An account of the methods used on the Survey was compiled by Aaron Arrowsmith in 1806 from discussions with surviving members of the survey teams. Each surveyor, in addition to his field book for recording relevant measurements, cross bearings and so on, carried a sketchbook of "sufficient size" in which he "delineated his stations and the face of the Country".147 Leybourn's instructions for field books in 1722 include the provision of a "last broad column... to take notice of Objects as you pass along, that you may express them in your Plot in their due Places";148 such objects could, of course, be recorded by sketches instead of or in addition to verbal notes. Since landscapes were considered of value and surveyors were taught to

144. 1990 p. 23. 145. See, for example, William Edgar's map of Stirlingshire of 1745-46 (BL Map Room, K. Top). 146. Christian op. cit. p. 20. 147. 1809 p. 7. 148. Op. cit. pp. 54-55. 95

"take views", it is probably safe to assume that those with drawing ability would include a swift sketch of any unusual or puzzling feature, if only as an aide mémoire.149

Roy's Instructions of the 1780s, mentioned above, contains similar guidelines for quarto-sized field books: columns of measurements fill the left-hand page while the page opposite is devoted to "the corresponding sketch or Eye Draught".150 A brief undated manuscript Orders and Instructions to be Observed bv rnlonel Watson's Assistants in Reconnoitring. Examining. Describing, Representing and Reporting any Country District or particular Spot of Ground they may at any time be ordered to Reconnoitre and Report states: In Reconnoitring to avoid ever trusting anything to the memory, but constantly to sketch and make memorandums... to enlarge and vary these memoranda and sketches before quitting the Ground.... General Sketches of the Country may be laid down to a scale of two inches to a mile.151 Although undated, this must be close to the Highland Survey (Watson died in 1761) and may even relate to it.152 These documents appear to cover what Arrowsmith called "delineating the face of the country" but it is not clear whether such "eye draughts" and sketches were perspective views as seen from the surveyors' current "stations", or bird's-eye views as they might appear on the map itself, although the former seems more likely. Dawson's later instructions appear to be concerned solely with bird's-eye views; more sophisticated mapping techniques in the nineteenth century seem to have allowed the interpretation and transformation of field data directly into a mapping style in the right-hand column of the field book.

149. Compare Catcott's sketches of strata in cliffs and quarries, and his comments on "taking a view" in his field notebooks. 150. p. 5 and appendix containing practical observations on surveying: 'Example of Field Book' dated 2nd February 1785 (PRO MSS). 151. Roy papers (PRO MSS). 152. It could refer to the surveying of annexed Scottish estates; Watson's instructions c. 1755 to surveyors on this project is a highly important document in the history of Scottish surveying (Annette Smith 1982 p p . 39-42). 96

Rye sketching and measuring

The drawing course at Woolwich during Sandby's incumbency includes the teaching of "the best Method of describing the various kinds of Ground with its Inequalities, as necessary for the drawing of Plans". Sandby's relief painting on the Fair Copy includes, as we have seen, some perspective drawings as well as bird's-eye views, suggesting a special role for him in the field: the taking of views - quite rough perhaps - in which relative heights and steepness could be seen at a glance, providing excellent additional material to the calculations.153 In fact, Sandby's presence with the survey team seems only justifiable if he were expected to produce such sketches. The technique of eye sketching, or "eye draughts", may have been employed here; it appears to have been an essential surveying skill (mentioned in most textbooks) which Sandby would certainly have learnt from Roy.

A good explanation of this procedure is contained in a short treatise written in 1779 by Lt. Colonel Charles Vallencey, Director of Engineers. In it he attempts to persuade the military authorities of the vital importance of employing surveyors on the battlefield trained in the "military coup d'oeil", or "art of judging at first sight the nature and situation of a country". The purpose was to "determine the advantage to be gained from the features of the landscape" as well as to depict them "at first glimpse". Such attributes, Vallencey says, "can be acquired only by the practice of sketching and reconnoitering".154 This suggests a rapid sketch done almost at a glance which nevertheless encapsulates all and only the relevant aspects.155 In this type of sketch relevance

153. See Hodson 1974 pp. 4-5 on the importance of relative as opposed to precise height in the early days of the Ordnance Survey. Her remarks appear equally applicable to the Highland Survey. 154. pp. 3-4. 155. Anson (Voyage Round the World 1748) states that an engineer required similar skills to those of a draughtsman "who acquires the habit of observing much more at one view and retains what he sees with more correctness than he could ever have done, without his practice and proficiency in drawing" (quoted Fleming-Williams 1968 Vol. Ill p. 250). 97

is crucial, since a relief map must be even more selective than a landscape painting. Skelton points out that such generalisation occurs in the fieldwork itself, "especially in those parts of it due to eye sketching uncontrolled by instrumental observation or measurements".156

As I have said, some sheets of the Original Protraction are covered with vertical and horizontal lines, aligned true north and south, forming two-inch squares. The Fair Copy is on the same scale, so the lines were presumably introduced to facilitate and ensure accuracy in the copying,157 which was obviously crucial. There is a parallel here with some of John Cleveley's drawings of Staffa done for Banks on the voyage to the Hebrides and Iceland in 1772, which are also squared up at each stage, from the rough sketch to the final version.158 It will be remembered that Cleveley was taught by Sandby and he may have learned this as standard military practice; John Frederick Miller's drawings, executed at the same time, are not squared. In Cleveley's first pencil sketch of the Bending Pillars at Bou- sha-la the grid lines over the important central section have been subdivided for even greater accuracy in the finished drawing (Figs. 40 and 41). Cleveley's finished watercolour at Shaggs Cove (Fig. 42) was also completed from two squared sketches (the first in pencil, the second in pencil and ink). From Banks's Staffa journal we know that "from first light" on 13 August he supervised twelve hours of observations and measurements on the island, taking detailed measurements himself of five (specified) columns in the cave.159 He would have

156. Op. cit. p. 8 . 157. Unless they were added when Sandby returned to Edinburgh to make a reduction (Scale 1/4 inch to 1000 yards) (Arrowsmith op. cit. p. 13). 158. BL Banksian MSS. 159. First published in full on 1 March 1772 in Pennant's A Tour in Scotland and Vovaaes to the Hebrides (pp. 260-267) with six engravings). Later that year it appeared, with Pennant's comments in the Annual Register Vol. XX p p . 88-93. Dr. Lind, who would have had experience of such matters from the Endeavour voyage, and had already drawn a map and carried out barometric observations on Islay (Carter 1984 p. 106), probably took charge of most of the measuring. In Iceland he measured the height of geysers with a quadrant (Carter 1984 p. 110). 98

expected his artists' drawings to reflect that care; he had his reputation to consider and must have known that the accuracy of the images could be verified.160

In his description Banks first uses the qualitative language typically employed by eighteenth-century travel writers and naturalists when describing incredible natural productions, comparing the pillars and Fingal's Cave to Greek architecture and Gothic cathedrals. However, he then declares his intention to take a more "philosophical" approach, giving very detailed descriptions and measurements of the pillars, including their differing thicknesses, colour, texture, infill material (i.e. yellow spar) and so on.161 The pillars and the strata above and below them are likened to lava and the "coarse kind of basaltes" familiar from specimens from the Giant's Causeway.162 Banks's comparison of Staffa with the Causeway would have provided an important reference point for other naturalists such as Pennant (who had been there) or those familiar with the engravings by Vivares of Susanna Drury's drawings, published with descriptions and a few measurements in 1743-44, or with Pococke's detailed reports and measurements of 1748 and 1753.163 Pococke's work, whose significance in the development of "the fully volcanist interest in these phenomena in the 1760s", was noted by Porter,164 must have been known to Banks. Although he neglects to speculate on causes, his reference to the pillars and the stratum below as "basaltes" and "like lava" suggests an understanding of their origin.

160. Banks had been present during coastal surveying, which included sketching, on the 1768 E n d e a v o u r voyage. 161. Annual Register op. cit. pp. 91-92. 162. Ibid. pp. 91-93. 163. Philosophical Transactions Vols. XLV p p . 124-127 and XLVIII pp. 226-237. Anglesea 1980 discusses Drury's depictions in detail. See also Hutton's discussion of the whinstone and basaltes (columnar whinstone) of Staffa and the Giant's Causeway (1795 Vol. I p p . 150; Vol. II p p . 276 and 283). Since he does not appear to have been there himself, he must have studied others' accounts, as he did with de Saussure's alpine work. He and Dr. Black examined "specimens of the petrifactions" Banks brought from Giezer [Geysir] (Vol. I p 546) . 164. 1974 p. 138 and pp. 4.0-41. 99

In 1774 G.E. Griffiths, reviewing Pennant's Tour, quotes from Banks's diary and measurements and praises the prints of Staffa, without which - and Drury's depictions of the Giant's Causeway - it would be "difficult to convey any tolerable idea of such astonishing productions". That these were "formed by volcanoes," he declares, "seems to be in no doubt".165 This suggests, as I said earlier, that whatever their shortcomings, such natural history landscapes often made valuable contributions to various debates concerning puzzling phenomena. In particular they facilitated comparison and encouraged further investigations.166

The Staffa drawings were cited by Rudwick as further instances of the inadequacy of eighteenth-century natural history landscapes. He contrasted an early nineteenth-century aquatint of the whole of Staffa by William Daniell (figure 16 in his 1976 paper) with two of Fingal's Cave (his figures 14 and 15) and judged it "more attractive... more accurate... far more informative geologically".167 The first of these, by Banks's artist John Frederick Miller, whose main occupation was drawing plants, shows his inexperience with landscape. A comparison between Daniell's view and a very similar one by Cleveley (Fig. 42) would not, I think, have produced this reaction. Although less aesthetically pleasing (he was also relatively inexperienced), this seems comparable to Daniell's in terms of accuracy and the information it conveys (see also the drawing of the bending pillars (Fig. 41)).168

The processes of measuring and sketching conducted on Staffa are not so different to those undertaken by Roy and Sandby on the

165. Monthly Review 1774 Vol. LI p p . 454-458. Griffith was editor. 166. See, for instance, Abraham Mills's drawings 'Some Strata and Volcanic Appearances in the North of Ireland and the Western Isles of Scotland' philosophical Transactions 1790 Vol. LXXX p. 100; he compares them with the Staffa drawings in Pennant's Tour (p. 87). Faujas de Saint-Fond requested Banks to send him a copy of this Tour, particularly to see the engravings (letter 4 March 1783, BM MS). 167. Op. cit. p. 174. See also Klonk 1992 Ch. 3. 168. It is significant that Banks took only Cleveley on the expedition to M t . Hekla in Iceland (Carter 1984 p. 110; print reproduced p. 113). At home, Miller continued to draw plants while Cleveley finally left Banks's employment to specialise in marine and coastal scenery (PNB) . 100

Highland Survey. The appropriation of surveying techniques by naturalists indicates that the boundaries between different groups studying nature in the field were not fixed. Mineralogists used surveying instruments; Clerk of Eldin made distant checks with a telescope,169 suggesting the influence of astronomy (perhaps through either Dr. Lind or James Playfair). Mathematics, surveying and drawing skills continued to form part of military training and several eminent nineteenth-century geologists, such as Henry de la Beche, John MacCulloch and Roderick Murchison, found these of great benefit.170

Kuching on the spot

While in Edinburgh Sandby learned engraving and etching, both of great importance to the development of his naturalism. Just as Herrmann sees a Netherlandish influence in the Sandby brothers' early style, Joyner considers Paul's etching to be in the Dutch manner.171 Rembrandt's etchings were well known and frequently copied in the eighteenth century and Sandby would almost certainly have seen some. This likely Dutch influence is important because knowledge of chiaroscuro, in which many excelled, would have been a highly appropriate model for his technique of relief drawing; its use certainly increases the naturalism of his etchings (Fig. 43).

Learning to engrave indicates a desire to have full control over his own productions rather than handing them over to someone else. As we saw in the preceding chapter, this ensured far greater accuracy and fidelity to the original. Engravings, however, are made from completed drawings even if they are done by the artist himself, whereas in etching the execution of the original drawing and the printing of it are both part of one process. The finished work would therefore retain whatever

169. Craig 1978 p. 18. 170. Secord 1986 p p . 61-63. 171. 1983 Note 38 p. 16. 101 qualities - such as subtlety of line and tonal gradations - that were possessed by the drawing made on the prepared plate. Tonal gradations, which greatly enhance the three-dimensional effect, are achieved through various processes during printing, and accents increased by using a drypoint on the plate without the need to relay the ground.172

Sandby signed several works of this Scottish period "etched on the spot".173 The ability to do this would have been of some importance while in the field since drawing direct on to the copper plate with a fine pen can produce the same spontaneity as drawing with pencil on paper. Such plates can be - and obviously were by Sandby at this stage - treated like a sketchbook (the ground having been applied to the plates in advance). The etching of a surveying party (Fig. 43), signed and dated 1750,174 is only 14.3 x 10.5 cm. and the plate would have fitted comfortably into a pocket. Sandby's experience of working in a remote area of the Highlands is communicated well in this etching by the characteristic immediacy and freedom of the medium.175 The possibilities of tonal gradations are fully exploited to indicate the roughness of the terrain and the variations in perspective between the foreground, middle and far distance. We are reminded of John Murdoch's remark about the value of such sketches being in their primary contact with the obj ect.

Sandby published three sets of etched views while in Edinburgh176 which indicates that he considered the technique

172. On engraving techniques, see Hind 1963 pp. 5-10. 173. For example, two dated 1750 of a collection in BL (62.1.17). 174. Copies are in the NGS and BM Print Room. This etching and the Rannoch drawings (Figs 34 and 35) provide a unique record of the surveyors at work. 175. See Gilpin's comments on the freedom characteristic of etching and its suitability for sketches (1768 p p . 49 and 55). Also Martin Hardie: "An etcher's line can be as personal, as expressive, as diverse as handwriting.... the fine etching must have something unpremeditated, must sing itself like a lyric" (1921 p p . 8-9). 176. Holloway p. 37. A 'View of Leith' published in 1751 and 'sold by William Sandby, Bookseller... in Edinburgh' is in the NGS (Sandby Etchings). Johnson Ball, however, says Williams Sandby, an uncle of Thomas and Paul, was a London bookseller. 102 suited him well. It also means that other artists in Edinburgh would have seen them and become aware of the possibilities of the medium. There is some evidence, for instance, that Clerk of Eldin learned the method from Sandby177 and the stratigraphical work he later produced for Hutton shows that he recognised the potential of etching for representing geological features.

The legacy of the collaborations

Different areas of investigation of the earth overlapped extensively in the eighteenth century and it is therefore appropriate to include here the collaboration between Sandby and the surveyor William Roy. All groups made use of maps, plans, measurements and landscapes. The importance of sketching to surveying practice and the teaching of drawing to military surveyors has suggested Sandby's contribution to the fieldwork. His apprenticeship with the Survey was crucial in forming his natural vision and to his later practice as a landscape painter. The necessity of engaging with the landscape, of learning accuracy in observation and recording, developed in him an attentive, rapid and selective response to natural features. Sandby clearly absorbed the lessons of his training and was always able to draw on them for later work.

Associating with Banks and other naturalists reinforced the habit of close attention Sandby learned in Scotland. Many of his later landscapes possess a deeply convincing naturalism, born of understanding of their subject-matter acquired in the active process of drawing from nature. Their value for naturalists lay partly in this conviction, in their undoubted aesthetic quality, and to some extent (perhaps even to a great extent) in their emphasis on particular localities of significance to the fieldwork. As for his legacy to other painters, in addition to important contributions to the development of watercolour and

177. Bertram 1978 p. 8. 103 aquatint, Sandby's natural vision attested to the validity of representing nature through direct study.

All the artists discussed in Part I worked with naturalists undertaking specific field investigations. With such models of the scientific gaze constantly before them they learned to select and express essential characteristics and were encouraged to persist in close observation and accuracy of recording. We have seen that their landscapes were significant in many areas of investigation of the natural world; they were the result of study and not guesswork or invention. The British genre of naturalistic landscape painting achieved great heights in the early nineteenth century. The practice of drawing direct from nature became so commonplace that the intensive study required, and the models on which it was based, have been overlooked. 104

PART II The Knowledge and Representation of Trees

It is pleasant to look upon a tree in summer covered with green leaves, decked with blossoms, or laden with fruit, and casting a pleasant shade; but to consider how this tree sprang from a little seed, how nature shaped and fed it till it came to this greatness, is a more rational pleasure. - Thomas Burnet1

We have seen how, in the eighteenth century, landscape painters collaborated in a variety of ways in the fieldwork of naturalists. Sketching direct from nature in such circumstances encouraged them towards a naturalistic treatment of the elements of landscape. The discussion in Part I also furnishes the background for the remainder of this thesis, which is devoted to a detailed exposition of the unique role of late eighteenth and early nineteenth-century landscape painters in one specific area: the knowledge and representation of trees. part II is concerned with attitudes to trees and their depiction. Treatises on the subject, from mid-seventeenth to mid-nineteenth century, are examined in Chapter Three to establish the extent and type of interest in trees and in tree drawing from nature.2 Of course, for most country dwellers trees were always part of the fabric of daily existence but for many others they were often more 'real' in the myths of antiquity, religious allegory, and in local legends, folklore, superstition.3 However, changing attitudes to nature, increase in travel and focus on the landscape, discussed in Part I, also helped to improve and widen awareness of living trees. Encouragement of planting is the main motive for the treatises but propagation and preservation also emerge as prominent early

1 . Quoted Johnson's Dictionary 1755 Vol. II (entry under 'Tree'). 2. Although many of the treatises include fruit trees, discussion is confined to forest trees which feature in most depictions. 3 . See Thomas 1971; Wilks 1972; Harrison 1992; Schama 1995 (chapters 3 and 4 are devoted to trees). There were Trees of Knowledge, Life, and later, Liberty; genealogical trees were first mentioned by Walpole (OED) and Charles Darwin used these as powerful metaphors (Jordanova 1986 p. 209). For excellent historical accounts see Rackham 1976, 1986. 105 themes; classification is an important concern of later works. Throughout the period their authors invoke the authority of the ancients in literary and natural history sources,4 while English poets are subsequently quoted; mild interest in folklore and superstition regarding trees continues. No account is taken of the social effects of major planting schemes in these works but the issue affected theories of picturesque design.

Trees and tree depictions were of interest to a very wide range of people, for whom their value - whether economic, aesthetic or scientific - reflected their own particular, but often overlapping, concerns. Politicians, landowners, men of science, naturalists and botanists, as well as practical men actively engaged in agriculture, horticulture, forestry, landscape gardening, were all involved. The appearance of trees became increasingly important in virtually all these areas and also affected other groups: antiquarians, aestheticians, travel writers and tourists, as well as artists and print sellers.

Exploitation of trees' economic and aesthetic potential in forestry, landscape gardening and horticulture brought a wide spectrum of people into direct contact with them. As a result, the early literary emphasis in these works gives way to practical issues, but concern with the different appearances of trees remained constant and the demand for drawings from nature increased. We will see that tree portraits became fashionable - and attention is increasingly paid to particular ancient trees, both as historical and natural phenomena. Prints in the early works were produced by topographers with a hard, precise outline characteristic of the genre in the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, with little, if any, attempt at realism. From the 1770s, however, drawings from nature by landscape

4 . This reflects the classical education of the upper classes. Gilpin pointed out that the oak was Jupiter's tree (1791 p. 26). The ancients' perception of the strength and uprightness of oaks as analogies for the human character in its noblest form was often used rhetorically to serve various political ends; ancient trees, especially oaks, represented the dignity of the British nation (see Daniels 1988 p. 48; Colley 1992; Ruddick 1993). 106 painters began to reveal a greater awareness of trees as living plants of distinct types.

The connection between the aesthetics of the picturesque and the study and depiction of trees, from the publication of Gilpin's pemarks on Forest Scenery in 1791, is considered in Chapter Four. Illustrated books on trees by landscape painters in the 1820s demonstrate that naturalism could co-exist with the picturesque mode. The drawings in these works were significant in stimulating further investigation of trees by the scientific community and in encouraging a wider interest in a naturalistic approach within the genre of landscape painting. The final works discussed are by naturalists and botanists who used drawings of whole trees by landscape painters to communicate their particular concerns.

Attitudes to trees within botany are investigated in Chapter Five. As the largest and longest lived members of the plant kingdom, trees might be expected to feature prominently in botanical works, yet until around 1830 whole trees were virtually ignored by British botanists and their artists, for whom the Linnaean sexual system dictated a concentration on the reproductive parts. Why did trees, relatively suddenly, become of special interest to botanists? I will endeavour to show that this was due to two interrelated factors: the wider adoption of the natural system of classification in Britain, and the application, by those attempting to make British botany more theoretically based, of the ideas of "philosophical botany", orginally adapted in France by Augustin-Pyramus de Candolle from Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire's philosophical anatomy. Philosophical botany has received very little attention from historians5 but it will only be relevant to indicate briefly its main concepts and their practical application, with particular reference to trees.

5. Toby Appel (1987) and Peter Stevens (1994) both mention it briefly in its French context. 107

The classification and description of plants according to the natural system depended on criteria pertaining to the entire living plant, its life-cycle and its habitat. Its adoption had a very positive impact on the field activities of naturalists and practical botanists which were also fostered by the holistic approach of philosophical botany. Although philosophical botanists investigated internal organs to establish the laws of plant life, those of nutrition (the root, stem and leaf) were considered as fundamental as those of reproduction. As in philosophical anatomy, knowledge of the organs helped to explain external form and its transformations, so that the outward appearance of plants was still relevant.

These changes placed trees for the first time on an equal footing with other plants in botanical studies. For some botanists, as I will show, trees were of paramount concern, and drawings of them from nature were both consulted and commissioned to improve botanical knowledge and facilitate explanation. Since botanical artists were not trained in the special requirements of drawing living trees, landscape painters continued to fulfil this role. Their important contribution to the knowledge of trees extended the range of landscape painting and field natural history. 108

CHAPTER THREE

Attitudes to trees and to their representation: Evelyn to Loudon

This chapter is concerned with attitudes to trees from the publication of John Evelyn's Svlva in 1664 to John Claudius Loudon's Arboretum et Fruticetum Britannicum (1835-38). The aim of all the works discussed is to encourage planting but the emphasis shifts from political expediency, and the exploitation of the economic value and properties of trees, to their visual qualities and distinguishing characters. This is reflected in the tree drawings they contain. At first these are confined to stiff topographical prints of ancient trees, of antiquarian interest only, but with greater awareness of trees as living plants of particular types, encouraged by the emphasis on a more natural style of landscape design, demand increased for naturalistic, even botanically correct, drawings. Some of the political connotations of planting and the patronage for tree drawings will be touched on, as well as the multiple meanings of portraits of ancient trees.

The economics of tree planting

Although we know from literary sources that forests and groves in Britain were appreciated, it is probably no exaggeration to say that until the seventeenth century timber for building and fuel was treated as an unlimited resource. It then became clear that something drastic had to be done to conserve dwindling forests and to encourage tree planting - in particular oaks, which were desperately needed for ship-building.6 Through the Navy, the help of the Royal Society was enlisted and in 1664 every possible argument was brought to bear on the subject in a

6 . See Albion 1926; Daniels 1988 p. 47. But Rackham says there was no major shortage until late eighteenth century (1995 edition p p . 90-93). 109 treatise published by John Evelyn FRS (1620-1706) . Svlva or a Discourse of Forest Trees was the first treatise on the subject to appear in Britain7 and proved so popular that nine further editions were printed, the last in 1825. The work was politically motivated and acted as a catalyst in rousing patriotic fervour, but landowners also responded to its powerful economic argument in favour of planting.8

Svlva is dedicated to Charles II (who thanked Evelyn publicly for it)9 and Evelyn called it one of "those Pieces of every day produced by the Royal Society... to the production of real and useful Theories, the Propagation of Natural Science and the honour of their Institution", altering this in the second edition to "the propagation and improvement of Natural Science" (Prefaces). Within the broad area of interest then embraced by natural science this work would no doubt have constituted a type of Baconian 'natural history' - an attempt to provide as complete a body of knowledge of trees as possible. The second and subsequent editions contain a section entitled 'Dendrologia' and the involvement of the Royal Society was to prove important in promoting trees as suitable subjects for study.

As was usual at the time, the book included a mixture of description, practical instruction on culture and uses, history, legend, folklore, poetry and appeals to the authority of the ancients (to Virgil and Lucretius, and especially to Pliny's Natural History). Taxonomic information is omitted10 and - in the first edition - pictorial content. Urging the planting of

7 . Francis Bacon's brief remarks on trees in a short chapter on plants in svlva Svlvarum (pp. 131-152), published posthumously in 1627 by William Rawley, probably formed the basis for Evelyn's work. Sub-titled "a Natural History", it covers most areas of natural philosophy as well. 8 . In the next century, medals were presented by the Royal Society; the Dukes of Devonshire and Bedford were awarded gold and silver medals respectively (Estate Records) (see also Shama 1995 p. 168). the Society of Arts premiums, awarded for planting oaks, chestnuts and elms (1757) and firs (1758) (Colley 1992 p. 90), would have involved smaller landowners. 9 . Evelyn's Diary 4 March 1664. 10. Basic family classification according to Ray could have been given; the Linnaean system and nomenclature were not used before 1760. 110 forest trees,11 Evelyn extols both their value to landowners as timber, and in the case of individual trees or groves, their more subtle merit of providing shade and ornament. He describes the sizes, shapes and colours of various kinds, how to plant and transplant, the most appropriate position, soil and climate, and the best type of timber for different purposes. The oak receives prior attention in each category. Evelyn's approach set the tone for most subsequent works on trees until the 1820s.

Evelyn claimed that 1000 copies of the first edition were sold and "more than two million Timber trees and infinite others" were planted as a result of its publication.12 The planting done on all the great estates he visited, many of which had suffered depredation of timber trees by Cromwellian forces, is recorded by Evelyn, including that by Charles II at Windsor.13 Large areas were turned over to hardwood, to softwood plantations and to coppicing; just as intended, the planting of oaks was considered a patriotic endeavour, an investment which would safeguard the nation while also benefitting landowners. Evelyn undertook much planting himself (especially of elms) at Sayes Court, which became a showpiece,-14 he also frequently advised on garden design.

A further four "expanded" editions of Svlva were published between 1669 and 1729. The second (1670) contains a new chapter on "the history and use of standing groves" (p. 242) in which the poetry of Virgil and other classical writers adds weight to Evelyn's arguments for conservation of remaining woods and forests and ancient trees, as well as for planting for posterity. Latin poetry is translated into English in this edition, while a contemporary poem by Abram Cowley - 'The Garden', on cultivating a garden and studying nature - is

11. A separate treatise on fruit trees is also included. 12. Dedication to the second edition. 13. Diary For instance, 4 March 1664, 10 September and 12 October 1677, 22 October 1685. 14. Bowie 1983 p p . xii-xiii. Ill included in the third edition (1680). The fourth and fifth editions (1706 and 1729) are greatly extended to incorporate, in particular, details of the great houses15 graced by parks, plantations, avenues, forests, groves, woods and coppices, but Evelyn exhorts their owners to care for existing trees and to replant where necessary. He also comments on the greater salubrity of the air in wooded places, the variety of prospects they afford, and the possibilities they present for walking, riding, shooting and for the enjoyment of songbirds. The book's continuing appeal throughout the eighteenth century - the great age of landscape gardening and park construction - is not surprising. The information it contained was as applicable to the new aesthetic aspirations of 'improving' landowners', in terms of park development and enhancement, as to investment possibilities. No doubt profits from the sale of timber enabled many to commence or extend their decorative planting.

Tdeoloaies of landscape design

Landscape gardening in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries is a huge topic with an extensive literature. It will be touched on here only briefly to indicate some ways in which it helped to extend knowledge of trees and made use of tree drawings from nature. The power that property conferred on the landed aristocracy and gentry, and the ideologies embodied in theories of landscape gardening and painting, have been attracting scholarly attention since the 1980s.16 Trees frequently feature in this discourse and the logic of this extends beyond their existence in gardens and paintings. Stephen Daniels draws on a helpful insight of Roland Barthes: "the ideological power of trees as symbols resides in their

15. Evelyn called Leonard Knyff's (1650-1721) drawings of these seats (etched by Johannes Kip), published together in Britannia Illustrata in 1708, "a most laudable undertaking" (1706 p p . 268-307). 16. See, in particular, Barren 1986; Bermingham 1986 and 1994; Daniels 1982, 1988 and 1993a; Everett 1994. 112 particular compound of the natural and the political"; while the political may be obscured or "purified by the discourse of the natural", it can be readily reconstituted and used to serve various purposes.17

The creation and securing of plantations, parks and gardens caused hardship for country dwellers. Public access to commons and woodland - previously open to all - was denied, and timber trees and coppices were protected in law; occasionally whole villages were destroyed. Daniels says that customary uses and meanings of woodland were obscured and trees "confirmed the power of property". He also revealed how trees were politicized in rival theories of garden design in the early nineteenth century. William Kent planted trees in the gardens he designed but from 1751 Lancelot 'Capability' Brown made extensive use of them - in clumps and encircling belts.18 The Brownian park, earlier hailed by the Whig Joseph Addison as "an Image of Liberty"19 was attacked by the chief advocates of the picturesque style, Uvedale Price and Richard Payne Knight, for destroying trees and natural configurations of the land to create prospects which emphasised the extent of estates and the superiority and power of their owners. The picturesque, on the other hand, respected communities and proposed more discreet changes, especially to woodland, which left properties closer in appearance to the surrounding natural landscape.20 They expressed their views in tones ranging from the mild to the ultra radical.21 Deciduous trees symbolised (as they had for Evelyn and the ancients) traditional values, but now Liberty joined these; the highly profitable conifer, at first

17. 1988 p. 73 note 2. 18. Henrey 1975. pp. 503 & 506. See also Loudon 1840b on "Kent's School" p. vii; Edwards 1962 on the use of trees by Langley, Kent and Brown, p p . 12-26. 19. Quoted Bermingham 1994 p. 84. 20. 1988 p. 45 and p p . 59-62. Murdoch points out that picturesque theories promoted by "the middling gentry and minor aristocrats" were generally more suited to their modest situation (1984b p p . 44-45) . 21. Price An Essay on the Picturesque 1794; Knight The Landscape 1794. Daniels 1988 gives a full account of the various shades of Whig opinion reflected in this debate. 113

prestigious, came to signify the lack of taste and mercenary character of the nouveaux riches, whose pretensions also found fulfillment in the reviled Brownian style.22

These differing ideologies are reflected in the tradition of estate portraiture. Prospect views of the great houses in their Brownian parks conformed to the prevailing conventions of ideal landscape and were no doubt believed to promote public virtue by emphasing the refined taste and great possessions which conferred on the nobility its right to govern.23 By commissioning such works, which became very fashionable and circulated as prints, landowners further confirmed and enhanced their position. Prospects, which distanced the viewer, were joined by more intimate short-focus views appropriate to smaller properties.24 This was in line with the picturesque garden aesthetic,25 (including its more natural use of trees). However, Part I of this thesis demonstrated that a short-focus approach to landscape required study by painters, and we will see that picturesque concerns had the effect of encouraging naturalistic tree drawing.

Topography and trees: "the meagre truth"

As recorders of architectural features, antiquities and views, topographers often included some sort of vegetation as an appropriate setting. At first trees were clearly not perceived as of interest in themselves - in fact scarcely perceived at all

2 2 .. Daniels ibid, p p . 48 and 65. See also Ruddick 1993 on the use of trees in counter-revolutionary poetry of the 1790s. 23. See Barrell 1986 (chapter 1, especially p p . 47-49 and 64-65). He considers the promotion of public virtue to have been the aim of the "republic of fine art", undermined by self-interest, based increasingly on commerce. By 1800 the 'public' for fine art had become "an undefined group of rich consumers of the arts" who ignored their civic responsibilities. The assessments of Barrell and Daniels indicate that the various theories of art and landscape were all believed by their authors to be in the public interest. 24. See Daniels 1990 p. 12. 25. See Murdoch 1984b pp. 44ff. 114

- so that the accuracy and attention to detail with which the main subject-matter was treated was not extended to their portrayal. Their gradual emergence from the background, in which Evelyn's treatise played no small part, was also assisted by increased travel and changing attitudes to nature (discussed in Part I). This is reflected in the new approach of artists, some of whom had begun, in the course of their fieldwork, to look at trees more closely. It is also apparent from the way they are depicted in tree treatises from Svlva into the nineteenth century. I do not mean to suggest a steady progression in this matter, even if as time went on models of naturalistic tree drawing became more numerous. Each individual artist had to learn to draw trees from nature, as we shall see, but first an awareness of the possibility - and desirability - of such a study was necessary, and this did not follow any strict chronological pattern.

The second, third and fourth editions produced by Evelyn himself contain two anonymous engravings: an isolated tree showing sap collecting (Fig. 44), and 'Charcoal Burners' (a forest scene).26 These engravings are typical of the depiction of buildings and antiquities in topographical drawings of this time. The trees are drawn in precise, stiff outline, although some attempt is made to add a three-dimensional effect by the use of shading. Evelyn no doubt accepted the topographical approach to drawing antiquities or architectural features as appropriate for imparting factual information concerning trees. His translation from the French of The Idea of the Perfection of Painting (1668) suggests, as might be expected at that time, an idealised perception of 'Art'.27 Although Evelyn appears to encourage the study of trees, the idea of an artist doing so in order to portray them with literal correctness would not have occurred to

2 6 . 1669 pp. 195 and 76. These demonstrate a non-destructive and destructive use of trees, but Evelyn does not make this point directly. 27. Evelyn also wrote on the history of engravings (Sculptura 1662) and architecture and is known to have done some etching himself (editor's note, Diary 1908 edition (ed) Dobson p. 480). 115 him. An appreciation of the visual qualities of trees is evident from Evelyn's descriptions in his writings and his diary. However, pictorial content of treatises on all subjects was often confined to a frontispiece since the cost of engraving and printing remained high.

Following the first editions of Svlva other writers began to tackle the subject and to use depictions. Robert Plot, for instance, includes information on particular ancient trees and their value as timber in The Natural History of Oxfordshire (1705) .28 His earlier work on Staffordshire (1686) contains some illustrations by 'M. Burghers' in which the trees, generally very stiff and unnatural in appearance, are seen merely as adjuncts to buildings. Different kinds are indicated roughly by shape or the density or otherwise of foliage but only in one case can a tree be identified with any certainty: an oak.28 29 Plot's works were also widely read and may have stimulated interest in historic trees among antiquaries, topographers and travel writers.30

Another genre of tree treatise appeared in the early eighteenth century as an indirect result of Evelyn's planting crusade: practical works on planting and rearing trees, produced, at this stage, by gardeners on the great estates. The earliest was probably by Moses Cook whose planning and planting for the Earl of Essex was praised by Evelyn.31 The Manner of Raising, nrHprina and Improving Trees (1676) was intended for the use of other landowners and/or their gardeners;32 it is also mentioned

28 Chapter 6. 29 p. 151. Burghers, who produced numerous prints of antiquities, was Dutch but lived chiefly in Oxford, working for Plot and the University Almanack (Bryan Vol. I P- 216). 30 John Morton's The Natural History of Northamptonshire (1712) contains no plates. He mentions a few old trees, for instance, the King's Oak, Moulton Park "cut down c. 1690" (p. 397), but omits the ancient oaks in Yardley Chase. His map shows all wooded areas in the customary stylised form (see earlier discussion of Sandby's approach), with no distinction made between deciduous and evergreen trees. 31 Diarv 18 April 1680. See also Henrey 1975 Vol. I p p . 116-118. 32 Several editions were printed. I have seen copies in the libraries at Woburn Abbey and Petworth House, both owned by noted tree planters. 116 by some subsequent writers on trees. The only illustration, in the 1717 edition, (Fig. 45) is an anonymous frontispiece showing woodcutters and gentlemen in a glade; the trees are not of recognisable types.

It will be seen that the plates so far discussed constitute little more than an extension of the "meagre truthfulness of the topographer".33 A few touches of the pen generally suffice for background trees and if dealt with in more detail their treatment is confined to careful, well-defined outlines. This mirrors the principal concerns of topography34 and shows little, if any, awareness of trees as living plants of recognisable kinds. Now that we have become so used to seeing naturalistically-drawn trees it is hard to remember that naturalism was not an option for early topographical artists who clearly had no perception that living trees could (or should) be treated differently to inanimate objects.

In general, trees drawn in the topographical mode are stiff and lifeless, artists lacking the skill and understanding to indicate tree types correctly, especially the character of foliage (except occasionally the oak, more distinctive than other deciduous trees). In any case, at this stage little, if anything, was known concerning characters and structure. It must also be remembered in considering early prints, that lack of skill could be compounded by problems connected with their reproduction.

a chance of focus

The five 'Hunter editions' of Silva35 which appeared between 1776 and 1825, were more liberally illustrated, in a manner reflecting the editor's specific concerns. Alexander Hunter

33. Redgrave 1866. p. 134. 34 . See discussion in Part I and Redgrave 1866 p. 147. 3 5 . The spelling was changed in 1706 for Evelyn's fourth edition. 117

(1729-1809) became a Fellow of the Royal Society in 1775 and in 1790 of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, his birthplace. He spent most of his life in York, however, and was a founder member of its Agricultural Society (1770).36 Many great landowners were among the 650 subscribers to the 1776 edition, and several naturalists, including some mentioned in the first chapter of this thesis: Joseph Banks (who owned other treatises on the subject),37 Charles Greville, John Lightfoot, Daniel Solander and Thomas Pennant (all Fellows of the Royal Society). Pennant mentions particular trees in his works as well as the extent of woods and forests, and depredations made on them over time. Another subscriber, Joseph Priestley, may have become interested in the ability of trees to purify the air and to create moisture38 through reading Evelyn's brief references to the healthy properties of trees, suggesting that such works had the potential to assist the wider arguments of natural philosophy. This subject, which Gilbert White also commented on as a result of his own observations, was gradually taken up by other natural philosophers and writers on trees.39 In the eighteenth-century country versus town debate, woods and groves contributed to the perception of the wholesomeness of the country. In the nineteenth, tree planting in towns to combat pollution was recommended and instituted; many of London's tree-lined squares were created as a result of arguments in favour of the properties of plane trees put forward by John Claudius Loudon.40

Hunter added notes and, in support of Evelyn's discussion of venerable and historic trees, includes two tree portraits. Another important development is the acknowledgement (in the Preface) of his debt to Linnaeus, and consequent inclusion of

36. Henrey 1975 Vol. II p. 110. 3 7 . Banks Catalogue of Prints and Books BL. 38. 1790 Vol III Section 7 p. 293ff. 3 9 . White 1789 (71st letter); Benjamin Franklin (see Priestley 1790 Vol. Ill p. 270); Daniel Ellis 1807. See also Knapp 1829 p p . 62-63; Phillips 1823 p. 116 . 40. See, for instance, 'Observations on laying out the Public Squares of London' Literary Journal 1803 Vol. II No. 12 cols. 739-742. 118 many beautiful drawings of the reproductive parts of the trees by the noted botanical draughtsman and engraver J.S. Mueller (1715-1792). These are all titled "... Tree" as if the parts constituted the whole, although Hunter says "a Tree is defined to be a perennial plant which rises to a very great height with a simple woody and durable stem or Trunk. By these characters Trees are distinguished from Herbs".41 Nevertheless, trunk and branches scarcely ever feature in botanical drawings (at least until the 1830s) ; the tree parts continue to be labelled "such- and-such tree".42 An exception is Christopher Jacob Trew's plantae Selectae (1750-1773) in which the Cedar of Lebanon is singled out for depiction in its entirety (Fig. 46), perhaps to encourage the planting of this species, since Trew was a gardener.43

It may be that Hunter included the two portraits through an awareness of the paradox of discussing forest trees and their appearances while only showing parts which had no bearing on the discussion. However, such portraits had antiquarian value and, significantly for this discussion, some naturalists collected them for their natural history cabinets. For instance, it was from the Duke of Portland that Hunter acquired one of these portraits; Pennant owned several drawings of great oaks in North Wales by Griffith and John Ingleby,44 and Banks collected prints

41. P- 3. Compare Johnson's Dictionary 1755: "A large vegetable, rising with one woody stem to a considerable height; Encyclopaedia Britannica 1771: "the first and largest of the vegetable kind, consisting of a single trunk, out of which spring forth branches and leaves"; Nicholson's Encyclopaedia 1809 directs the reader to "See Timber". Later encyclopaedias such as the Penny and Rees's Cyclopaedia contain fuller and more meaningful entries which included botanical information. 42. See, for instance, Philip Miller's The Gardener's Dictionary (1760 edition): "Acer. The Maple Tree" (Vol. I p. 5); Plate VIII displays the sprays of two species with a pair of leaves, flowers and seeds. "Quercus. The Oak" (Vol. II PP- 143-144); Plate CCXV (by Ehret) depicts a spray of leaves, some flowers and an acorn. 43. Plate LX (by Ehret) may represent one of a famous quartet in the Chelsea Physic Garden, later drawn by many artists (including Sir George Beaumont in 1785); the first known print of these is dated 1790 (information supplied by Ruth Stungo). Plate LXI (signed I.J. Haid) shows a very young specimen in the Duke of Portland's park at Bulstrode (pp. 30). 44. For example, Griffith's watercolour of an oak in Wynnstay Park (NLW PA 6455); see also print of the 'Fairy Oak' at Downing (1796 p. 7). 119 of various ancient trees dating from 1745 to 1844, including a very large one of the Golynos Oak "after an original sketch" by Peter de Wint (Fig. 47) ,45 Hunter's interest in Linnaeus probably encouraged later naturalists who were Fellows of the Royal and Linnean Societies to write specifically on trees.

These two portraits reveal some extension of the artists' powers of observation. The drawing of the Greendale Oak (acquired from the Duke of Portland, on whose property at Welbeck it stood) is by Samuel Grimm (1733-94) while the Cowthorpe Oak at Wetherby is by Dr. William Burgh, an Irish landowner and friend who also lived in York (Preface) (Figs. 48 and 49). Grimm was already known (and still is) for his topographical and antiquarian work;46 their engravers, Thomas Vivares and John Miller, were both in the top rank. Comparing these artists' different approaches is very informative. Grimm's style reveals his topographical and antiquarian background, but the intention to produce a portrait of a particular tree seems to have brought it into sharper focus than usual since he has attended to important aspects which were generally missed. The roundness and solidity of the upper trunk and branches, for instance, are suggested by slightly curved lines, and the characteristic shape of oak leaves is occasionally discernible against the sky. He has also attempted to express the depths and varied distances within the foliage area with the help of chiaroscuro, and to indicate branches growing directly away from his viewpoint. The branches taper incorrectly, however, (they should decrease only at the point of growth of a new branch rather than in a regular diminution from the trunk to the tip) and are insufficiently angular for this species, while the leaf clusters are somewhat inconsistent and rather too rounded. The drawing is dated 1775, the year before Grimm was employed by the naturalist Gilbert

45. 'Portraits of Famous Trees' (Banks Collection, NHM). Artists include, J.C. Nattes, W.H. Hanmer (Greendale, Salcey and Cowthorpe Oaks, the latter engraved by John Laporte). Not all are dated. 46. On Grimm see Clay 1941; Williams 1952 p p . 44-46. On Burgh see Henrey 1975 Vol. II P- 512. 120

White, who had heard of him as "a man of genius but does hardly seem to stick enough to nature; and that his trees are grotesque and strange".47 Grimm had also been drawing ancient, often deformed trees of historic interest (such as the Greendale Oak) in 1775 for Richard Kaye.48 White thought Grimm's trees "not so pleasing" as other aspects of the landscapes done for him.49 Although he had no influence on Grimm's observation of this particular tree, Grimm had been working in the field in Britain with Kaye and other antiquaries from 177350 and had also included trees in his Swiss topographical drawings.

Burgh's 'Cowthorpe Oak in Winter' (a double page spread) is perhaps more recognisably an oak, but absence of leaves would have eased the artist's task since foliage always presented huge difficulties. The tree's substantiality is well suggested, while the trunk emerges from the ground and the branches grow from it and taper with more verisimilitude than in Grimm's depiction. Insufficient angularity in the branching for this genus, and the common problem of drawing branches growing on the far side of the tree, are the main defects here. Burgh's style is somewhat freer than Grimm's and we will see that "freedom of handling" is considered of great importance by those who later taught tree drawing. These plates also assist the perception of scale,- from this time people or animals are generally used to indicate scale by most artists when depicting trees in landscape - they are not intended purely as picturesque touches. However, as we shall see, it is often difficult to separate practical and aesthetic intentions or considerations. The Cowthorpe was probably the largest extant oak; historical references and anecdotes would have appealed to the educated reader, but it was perhaps more

4 7 . Letter to Pennant quoted Joyner 1983 p. 5. 48. On Grimm's association with Sir Richard Kaye (1736-1809), friend and botanizing companion (Kent, 1765) of Joseph Banks, who later became Dean of Lincoln, see Clay (1941 p p . 90-99) . Grimm drew eight or nine oaks in 1775 for Kaye, who may have given the Greendale drawing to the Duke of Portland. 49. Ibid. p. 72. See the village scenes in Natural History of Selborne (1789) but the kincyjjtrees depicted is generally unclear. 50. Joyner op. cit. p. 4. They include Richard Gough author of British Topography 1780. 121 important in the context of this work to convey the vast dimensions of such trees to emphasise their potential value in terms of timber yield. Representations could indicate this - in addition to structural peculiarities - more vividly than measurements and written descriptions.

The uncommon historic interest aroused by some ancient trees suggested to the antiquarian Hayman Rooke of Nottingham (1723- 1806) the desirability of recording them for posterity and profit. His Descriptions and Sketches of Some Remarkable Oaks appeared in 1790, although the drawings are believed to date from 1779.51 It is noteworthy that the title confers a new and equal emphasis on the visual as on the verbal record, suggesting a selling-point. The stiffness of Rooke's drawing style is increased by the stipple mode of engraving. It is worth comparing his Greendale Oak (Fig. 48) with that by Grimm and Jacob George Strutt (Fig. 53).52 Rooke has observed the structure of oak leaves but the foliage is far too detailed for this more distant view, in which individual leaves would never be discernible. As for the surrounding trees, it is impossible to determine their kind. The dead branch at the top of the largish tree on the right suggests another oak (die-back is characteristic of some species), but the foliage sprays are too dense and rounded; the specimen on the left could represent almost any broad leaved species. Those in the background are an indistinguishable mass of tiny squiggles,53 making Grimm's appear quite credible by comparison. About five years separate these two depictions but it will be noticed that Rooke's (later) work is even less convincing, illustrating the point that each individual artist had to learn to draw trees for himself.

5 1 . Henrey 1975 Vol. II p. 568. Rooke also produced a similar book on remarkable trees at Welbeck, Nottinghamshire, a seat of the Duke of Portland, in the same year. 52. Five large engravings of it (36 x 21 cm.) dated 1727 (probably the earliest) may be by George Vertue as the letters "G.V. f" (G. V. fecit) appear on one (Nottingham University MSS Department). These are somewhat less stiff than Rooke's and show a grasp of chiaroscuro. 53. This word has been used derogatively about foliage since the early nineteenth century by critics of tree drawing. 122

Another feature of the portraits by Grimm, Burgh and Rooke, which became common practice in this genre, was of some consequence, I believe, for the movement towards greater naturalism in the depiction of trees generally: they are shown in landscape settings (see Figs. 52-55) rather than in isolation on the page. Admittedly, Burgh's is very slight, but the others, although leaving much to be desired, probably present the site of the Greendale Oak much as it was. As features of landscape, trees belong to the domain of the landscape painter and situating these venerable and curious specimens squarely in their actual settings in nature appears to have reminded some that trees are living plants, not inanimate objects, suggesting a different approach to their depiction than that dictated by current artistic conventions. It would be recognised later as providing some information concerning their habitat.54

Those just discussed are not idealised or decorative, as in contemporary landscape painting, and show that certain artists were beginning to be aware of the possibility of looking more closely at growing trees. The emphasis on outline remains but the correct overall shape has been sought - and sometimes achieved - and an attempt made to convey an idea of age and size. However basic, these prints still imparted some information about particular trees in an easily accessible form. Choosing specimens with historical associations, rather than any oak or beech or chestnut, minimized the need for specialised knowledge since they could be portrayed as objects with special peculiarities - a simpler task and one within the capabilities of any reasonable topographer. These portraits also had the important effect of providing a focal point within the mass of trees in nature. They encouraged some naturalists and painters to make comparisons, helped to increase awareness of trees' general appearances and complexity, and perhaps suggested the need for closer observation and more sketching.

54. See Blum on Buffon: "placing the animal in a landscape, even... a single clod of earth, connoted Buffonian description of the living animal in nature" (1993 p. 18). 123

It is significant that early interest in drawings of specific trees came principally from outside the art world - from those whose arguments for planting and preservation, in particular, could be assisted by depictions. It was from within these groups that patrons emerged who would expect landscape painters to look more directly at the trees : landowners who concerned themselves closely with their plantations, parks and gardens, aestheticians, men of science, naturalists and horticulturists.

Tree portraits

The engravings in Hunter's editions of Silva possibly suggested to landowners who read it the idea of having historic trees on their estates portrayed and so recorded for posterity; the most ancient, and often picturesque, trees were now perceived as prestigious assets, denoting the antiquity of the family. At any rate, in the last decades of the century there was a vogue for tree portraits (similar to those commissioned, from the 1770s, of favourite animals). Such paintings had the advantage over estate records and maps in that they could be displayed for the pleasure of their owners and their further aggrandisement in the eyes of others. Prints did this even more widely, and they were commissioned and occasionally produced speculatively by artists. In the latter case, permission to draw on private land or to dedicate the result, would have had to be obtained, but the name of a nobleman on a print would have enhanced its saleability.

Tree portraits postulated an attempt at a more realistic treatment, since the owner would expect the result to be recognisable, and this applied increasingly to views of pleasure gardens, parks and estate woods. Artists who could produce such work were far from numerous and, as I will show, it required a great deal of study (often years) to draw trees naturalistically. Although English art collectors at first wanted only idealised Italianate paintings, there were some 124 exceptions. We saw that Robert Price's interest in a natural style of landscape design and of landscape painting appeared to have developed concurrently. Gainsborough's small watercolour •Beech Trees at Foxley' (c. 1760) (Fig. 5) is an early example of tree portraiture; the trees are comparatively young but their position made them a feature of the estate. We saw an early example of Thomas Hearne's work from a sketching tour with Sir George Beaumont (Fig. 1) but Payne Knight's patronage in the 1780s and 1790s encouraged his naturalism to develop further. His depictions are evidence that he paid much closer attention to living trees than was common (see the oak on the left in 'The View Uptream' (1786) (Fig. 51), one of twelve large watercolours of Knight's estate, Downton, most featuring trees prominently/. Hearne was almost certainly in sympathy with Knight's radical ideas; he exhibited some views of Downton, which recorded Knight's improvements, at the Royal Academy in 1785 and 1786 and contributed two drawings to The Landscape (1794) ,55

Another great landowner who acquired an unusually early taste for Dutch and English landscapes, was the fourth Duke of Bedford (1710-1771), connoisseur and founder member in 1734 of the Society of Dilletanti. He purchased a Ruysdael in 1742 and in 1755 commissioned, in addition to portraits, two large decorative landscapes of rural scenes with figures by Gainsborough.56 It may be that his extensive tree planting and daily experience of the Woburn landscape kindled his interest in a more rural (and English) type of painting. His grandson the sixth Duke appears to have shared this interest, commissioning work in the 1820s and 1830s by the two best known tree painters of the time, Jacob George Strutt and Henry Burgess (Painter to the Crown) whose work will be discussed in Chapter Four. Two 1827 sketchbooks of tree drawings by Burgess are in the Woburn

55. Morris 1989 pp. 90-94. He writes extensively on Hearne's connection with Knight and considers him sympathetic to Goldsmith's criticism of the corrupt rich in The Vicar of Wakefield which he also illustrated. See also Wall 1994 p p . 49-65. 5 6 . 'Landscape with Woodcutters and Milkmaid' and 'Landscape with Farm Horses and Haymakers' (Hayes 1968 pp. 220-221). 125 library as well as his Drawings of the Evergreens at Woburn Abbey (1837). Strutt's very large oil painting 'Trees in Woburn Park' (c. 1820), of an old beech surrounded by ancient oaks in a sunlit glade, is still in the Abbey,-57 his Svlva Britannica (1822-26) is dedicated to the Duke and contains engravings of trees in the park, including the 'Abbot's Oak' (Fig. 61), the most famous of the old trees on the estate. The Ordnance Survey of 1880 appears to be the first map to designate this tree by name,-58 the map in Humphry Repton's Red Book of Woburn shows a single tree in roughly the right spot, but it is not named.59

Ancient trees, and depictions of them, embodied a variety of meanings for different people. Whatever those meanings, and intended use of the drawings (many people would only have known the trees in this form), we have seen that a naturalistic treatment was a common expectation. For landowners on whose estates they grew (who probably also owned the drawing and commissioned prints) there was pride of ownership,- the circulation of prints, which also recorded their role as patrons of art, would have further enhanced their status. Some landowners also had scientific concerns. For instance, the Duke of Portland, who collected prints of these extraordinary productions of nature for his natural history cabinet, also commissioned and lent prints and drawings of them in the interest of scientific enquiry. This suggests that self-interest was not always the major concern.60

5 7 . The Duke purchased a landscape by Strutt (possibly this one) in 1826 fT.-i tera-r-y gazette 1 April 1826, Royal Academy Records) . 5 8 . OS Sheet XXIV S.E. Thomas Evans's plan of Woburn park of 1817 (scale 13.3 inches to 1 mile) omits the Abbot's Oak although an ancient tree (possibly an oak, but with very un-oaklike foliage) forms an elaborate cartouche and bears the surveyor's name and the date on its roots (Bedford CRO Rl/23) . 59. Repton, like Sandby, uses conventional symbols for trees. Ancient trees are occasionally recorded on early maps, including OS (Rackham 1986 p. 230), but I have not made an exhaustive search. The Fairlop Oak (Fig. 109) appears on a map of Hainault Forest of 1772-74 (see Rackham p. 148); the great oaks 'Gog' and 'Magog' in Yardley Chase, Northamptonshire (Fig. 77) do not feature on OS maps. 60. Compare Weindling's view that Banks and Greville (at the Royal Society) placed an emphasis on practical research which went "far beyond personal profit" (1979 p. 257). 126

Prints of these trees, as we will see, later became important resources for botanists in the study of plant morphology. Used in this way, such drawings were repositories of knowledge, not unlike the natural history landscapes discussed earlier, standing in for the trees they represented. As Daniels said, "landscape imagery is not merely a reflection of, or distraction from, more pressing social, economic or political issues; it is often a powerful mode of knowledge and social engagement".61 In this process, natural history also played a crucial part.

Finally, for the artists, the drawings meant employment, a means of publicising their skills (with the implicit, or explicit, recommendation of powerful patrons). In terms of their naturalism, they also represented close study, and an extension of normal practice, promoting a naturalistic approach to the depiction of landscape. In the 1820s Strutt and Burgess became known for their tree drawings and had many important patrons, including two Kings and several Dukes; their work was seen in exhibitions and their books were bought. Although such drawings would not have been considered 'art', their picturesque and curious subject-matter gave them a wide appeal62 and brought people into contact with a naturalistic treatment of landscape, in view of the attitude to common nature prevalent in art circles, the widespread interest in ancient trees may have provided artists with a valid reason for attending to it. Two Royal Academy members, Joseph Farington and Paul Sandby, drew many ancient, or old trees; the former's drawings were published as prints, while Sandby exhibited paintings of Windsor Forest from 1806.63

Tree drawing and landscape design

Gardeners on the great estates had to become proficient in propagating, raising, transplanting and managing the various

61. 1993 p. 8. 62. See Shama 1995 p. 170. 63. Herrmann 1986 p. 72. See (Fig. 27) for an example (although not at Windsor). See Farington Diary 27.9.1794; 5.3.1795; 1.9.1801. 127 species of trees in the areas where they were to be used. An understanding of their appearance in each season - their size, overall shape, colour - and the effects to be achieved from planting singly or in groups, was also important. At first, knowledge of these areas was probably acquired by practical experience in a rather rough and ready manner since few books were available apart from Svlva and some titles in French specifically on trees were available from mid-century. Duhamel du Monceau's Traite des Arbres (1755) and La Phvsicrue des Arbres (1768) were popular in Britain and extensively quoted. During the century further treatises and practical works on trees appeared, often by head gardeners on the larger properties.

The nobility were stocking their libraries as well as increasing their art collections at this time and practical books on trees and on landscape gardening were included. At Petworth House, for instance, where the Earl of Egremont (1751-1837) replanted the park, the library contains Cook's work, Evelyn's Svlva and Hunter's first edition, as well as Payne Knight (1796) and Uvedale Price (1795, 1810) on the Picturesque, and Loudon's On nssful and ornamental plantation and landscape gardening (1804).64 The Earl's patronage of landscape painters is well known; many artists, and notably Turner, painted the park for him in the nineteenth century. The sixth Duke of Devonshire (1790-1858) was awarded a Gold Medal by the Royal Society for tree planting at Chatsworth and his vast library contains many botanical works and some on trees. As well as landscape gardeners (including Joseph Paxton, a Fellow of the Linnean and Horticultural Societies), the Duke employed botanists, of whom John Gibson is the best known.65

64. Information supplied by the Archivist, Sussex CRO. 65. I am grateful to Michael Pearman, Librarian and Archivist at Chatsworth, for this information. He suggests that the absence of practical books on trees may mean this area was considered the province of Paxton. The tree books with illustrations are: Duhamel 1755 (a later, undated edition), Hunter 1766, Strutt 1822, Burgess 1827, Lambert 1828-37, and a rare version of Loudon's arboretum with colour plates (Pearman 1987). 128

The fourth and sixth Dukes of Bedford collected virtually every contemporary work on trees, including all the most important British and French books on horticulture and forestry, and some on botany and natural history.66 The sixth Duke, John (1766- 1839), a patron of art and science, was responsible for the development of "horticultural science" at Woburn; Loudon called him a "scientific botanist".67 In addition to gardeners he employed horticulturists, botanists (including Forbes and David Don (1799-1840),68 landscape painters and landscape gardeners, one of whom was Humphry Repton (1752-1818) . In their various capacities these men were all concerned with living trees. The arboretum and pinetum were planted in the 1830s and the Duke commissioned several books on the Woburn trees, the most important being Salictum Woburnense (1829), Hortus Worburnensis (1833) and Pinetum Woburnense (c. 1839) by James Forbes, botanist and head gardener. No whole trees are shown except in the frontispieces which are by Burgess, (possibly) Strutt, and Lady Charles Russell respectively. The Duke wrote that the first was "from the spirited pencil of Mr. Burgess whose accurate delineation of trees in Eidodendron is too well known to need any encomium from me" (p. vi). Pinetum Woburnense contains drawings of tree parts but Forbes uses Loudon's Arboretum et Fruticeturn Britannicum to classify the pines and refers readers to its "representations of all species".69 More will be said about the botanists and painters in the next two chapters, but Repton's unusual ability to draw and paint trees from nature and

66. Philip Miller dedicated The Gardener's Dictionary (1760) to the fourth Duke. The fifth Duke does not appear to have taken such an interest and Loudon is critical of the Woburn planting in 1829 but commends the (sixth) Duke, who inherited the title in 1802, for his efforts (GM 1829 Vol. IV p p . 561-564). This article shows Loudon's views on gardening at Woburn, but he says little on the trees. 67. For a very full discussion of the Duke's patronage of science see Paul Smith's unpublished thesis The Landed Estate as Patron of Scientific innovation: Horticulture at Woburn Abbey 1802-1839 Open University 1983. See also Loudon: GM 1829 Vol. IV p. 562. 68. Son of George Don, curator of Edinburgh Botanic Garden. He was Linnean Society librarian from 1822 and Professor of Botany, King's College 1836-1840. 69. Smith 1983 p. 214. 129 his exploitation of that aptitude to promote his landscape designs will be touched on now.70

Repton opposed Price's view that "all improvement of scenery should be derived from the works of the great painters", although he "delighted to look at nature with a painter's eye".71 This approach is apparent in his designs, in comments throughout his works on the effects of light and shade and in the contrasts he achieves in his watercolours and engravings by combining trees of differing height, shape and colour. Loudon, in a short biographical notice of Repton in his 1840 edition of the latter's works, commented on his "early facility and love of drawing. He particularly admired Repton's later work72 and wrote that "Repton's School... may be considered as combining all that was excellent in the former schools, and in fact as consisting in an artistical knowledge of the subject with good taste and sense".73 Repton's original watercolours in Red Book of Woburn (1804) 74 (Fig. 57.), and others seen in reproduction, display an unusual ability with the medium for that time; Loudon would particularly have approved his close observation of the trees.

Repton appreciated and drew the landscape of East Anglia from an early age. After his marriage in 1773 he ran a small estate and pursued his interests in farming and gardening, including the planting and management of trees.75 Although biographers allude to Repton's connection with various botanists and to his study of plants, they appear to have missed the significance of this (which I consider to have been crucial) for his attitude to trees and for the naturalism he attained in his drawings. Loudon mentions Repton's continuing friendship and botanising with a

70. On Repton's life and work see Stroud 1962 (which contains many reproductions demonstrating Repton's skill at tree drawing); Carter 1982; Daniels 1993 Ch. 3, and 1982 on Repton's politics. 7 1 # Loudon 1840b p p . 226-228. 72. Hadfield 1960. p. 257. 7 3 . 1840b p. viii. On light and shade see p. 170. 7 4 . Repton's Red Books comprise the original designs presented to his prospective patrons. 75. Carter 1982 p p . 7-8. 130 schoolfriend, (Sir) James Edward Smith, and his acquaintance with William Windham of Fellbrigg, who introduced him to Banks and whose library (which included, notably, works by Buffon and Reaumur) he used. Windham's father, a well-known naturalist, had also built up an important collection of paintings and prints of landscapes from nature (see Part I) which .would have been available for Repton to study, in addition to natural history books. One of Repton's earliest patrons, in 1789, was the Duke of Portland,76 famous for his natural history cabinet; their introduction may have been effected by Banks. It is interesting that Repton's Trade Card of 1788, which he designed himself but did not engrave, emphasised a scientific aspect of garden design by showing him using a theodolite while directing operations (Fig. 58) .77

Repton's references to Gilpin and Evelyn indicate his awareness of earlier literature on trees, and his engagement with picturesque landscape theory is well known. He studied forest scenery in 1789 and sent sketches around to prospective employers,78 but his sketching in East Anglia commenced at least fifteen years earlier. His theory of natural planting derived from this study and one example, among many, makes this very- clear. Asserting that "no group of trees can be natural in which the plants are studiously placed at equal distances, however irregular in their forms", he advocates planting them close together, adding that "the perfection of a group consists in the combination of trees of different age, size and character".79 These points are illustrated in two drawings (Fig. 56) of which he says: "the single tree and every part of the upper sketch is evidently artificial... the lower one is natural and like the groups in a forest"; planting should form "that beautiful and irregular outline so much admired in the woods and thickets of a forest".80

76. Loudon 1840 p p . 2-16. See also Carter ibid, p p . 6-14.’ 77. Reproduced in Carter ibid. p. 13. 78. Ibid. pp. 11-12. 79. Compare Gilpin's discussion of this (1779 Vol. I p p . 175-179). 80. Quoted and reproduced in Loudon 1840 p p . 170-172 and 181. 131

The ability to draw a landscape including mature trees from his knowledge of the forms and colours of the various kinds, allowed Repton to show how a garden or park would eventually look. Some existing trees would be retained (probably many more than Kent or Brown would have kept), others would have to be planted as saplings. The delicate watercolours in the famous presentation Red Books were intended to make his concepts "visible or intelligible to others"81 and are evidence of his understanding of the growth of the different trees. They have the intimate and direct quality often characteristic of sketches and appear now entirely naturalistic, but are highly unusual for the 1790s and even at the beginning of the nineteenth century. Repton's use of slides in these books to demonstrate recommended changes to existing planting or paths to achieve a more 'natural' effect is well known. His drawings are akin to architects' perspective drawings prepared for clients from blueprints (the latter being difficult to read). The maps used by Brown would have been less easily understood than a view which showed changes but which presented certain features of the existing landscape to which clients could relate.

As I have said, Repton's naturalistic style of landscape design was admired by Loudon, generally considered the most important of Repton's successors.82 He did not follow Repton entirely but created a new style - the "Gardenesque" - which he defined as the display of the beauty of trees and other plants individually.... The present taste for botany and horticulture and the introduction from other countries of many new plants... have called for such a change in the manner of laying out and planting grounds as shall display these new plants to a greater advantage than hitherto.... This may now be seen in its most decided character as far as respects trees and shrubs wherever Arboretums have been properly planted.83

81. Carter op. cit. p. 19. 82. Hadfield 1960 p. 38. Simo 1988 gives a very full account of Loudon's garden designs. Another admirer of Repton, James Grigor, published The Eastern arboretum, a description of Norfolk trees (with fifty etchings by Henry Ninham), in 1840-41 (Ketton-Creamer 1944 p. 83-85). 83. 1840b p. viii-ix. Loudon appears particularly to have admired the arboretum at Chatsworth, planted by Paxton. See GM 1835 Vol. XI p p . 385-395. 132

John Claudius Loudon (1782-1843) began his career in Edinburgh as a draughtsman on estate and garden plans, and on moving to England worked as a garden designer and horticulturist. His first full-length publication (1804) was on ornamental plantations and the theory and practice of landscape gardening, subjects which remained important throughout his life. He visited and drew gardens in Russia, Germany, France and Italy84 and considered landscape gardening a fine art, like landscape painting.85 Landscape gardeners should attend to "what painters call general effect: breadth of light and shade... connection and grouping of parts" and understanding of this could not be acquired by "any person who has not practised sketching from nature".86 He continually recommended such sketching and encouraged landowners and gardeners to extend the range of their tree planting by choosing different species, especially of foreign origin, to achieve "pictorial" effects through the use of contrasting form (height, breadth and general shape) and colour.87 The inclusion of landscapes in the Arboretum demonstrates the effect of particular species of trees in scenery and assists the choice of trees by showing their "magnitude and character" at maturity.88 Although Loudon discussed contrasting effects - and repetition - of trees in landscape in terms of the theory of the sublime as expounded by Edmund Burke and Dugald Stewart,89 on a more practical level his many popular works on gardening were mainly addressed to young gardeners and horticulturists and emphasised the practical application of his theories. He supervised the execution of many of his plans, among which were the Botanical Garden at Edgbaston, Birmingham (1831), the overall planting design of which is gardenesque, and the Derby Arboretum, the first public

84. Jane Loudon 1845 p p . ix-xxi. See Simo 1988 and Gloag 1970 for further biographical material; the latter contains the memoir by Jane Loudon. 85. M S 1835-38 Vol. I p. 12. 86. GM 1826 Vol. I pp. 5-6. 87. Ibid. pp. 193 and 198. 8 8 . Vol. I P- clxiv and p. v i . 89. Ibid. Vol. Ill p. 1663. 133 park of its kind (1839-40) 90 and "the most influential of the taxonomically arranged British gardens", its paths "designed to follow, in sequence, the 'natural order' of the plant collections".91

Loudon's Encyclopaedia of Gardening (1822) had an "extraordinary sale" (seven editions in Loudon's lifetime, two posthumously and a German translation c. 1823) and "established his literary fame".92 Its object was the "dissemination of useful knowledge on horticulture and to raise the intellect and the character of those engaged in this art" (Preface). Loudon pressed for the establishment of gardening libraries, and the work contains an extensive bibliography. There are 600 wood engravings by Allen Robert Branston (1778-1827)93 (some from sketches made by Loudon on his visits to landscape and botanical gardens in Britain, France and Italy) and sections on the history of gardening and the introduction of foreign trees. Two lists, of treatises on trees before Evelyn's Svlva (1664) (p. 93), and of great tree planters of the eighteenth century in Britain and Ireland are also included (pp. 94-95) .

Plants are classified according to the artificial and natural systems of Linnaeus and Jussieu (p. I41ff.); trees are dealt with in a separate section rather than being considered with other plants, as was usual to that time (p. I072ff.). Loudon also edited two catalogues of plants and trees in the 1830s,94 and from 1826 to 1843 The Gardener's Magazine, which according to his widow "met the wants of a large class of readers" and was

90. Loudon 'The Derby Arboretum' GM 1840 Vol. XVI p p . 521-545, contains a list of trees planted in their families. See also Simo 1988 (pp. 178-9 and 191-205 deal with Birmingham and Derby respectively). The restoration of the arboretum was completed in 1994. 9 1 . Medbury Taxonomy and Arboretum Design 1993 p. 16. This article summarises the historical background to arboreta and reveals Derby as a model for many North American gardens. 92. Jane Loudon 1845 p. xxx. 93. Benezit Vol. II p. 277. 94. Hortus Britannicus (1830) Hortus Liqnosis Londiniensis (1838). See Desmond •Loudon and Nineteenth Century Horticultural Journalism' in MacDougall 1980 pp. 79-97. 134

"popular for nineteen years". It contained many engravings and advertisements for botanical and natural history books and reviews. He was always "exhorting gardeners to improve themselves" through reading, studying botany and drawing from nature, but the building of many gardeners' cottages following his suggestions,95 indicates a wider and more influential readership.

Books, horticultural journals and catalogues for the planter and gardener increasingly emphasised the practical necessity of learning about the growth and appearances of trees at different seasons and stages of life. One other work, Svlva Florifera: the shrubbery, historically and botanicallv treated with observations on the formation of Ornamental Plantations and picturesque Scenery (1823) is worth mentioning in this context, particularly in view of its early date, although it may not have been generally known. Its author was also a horticulturist and botanist: Henry Phillips (1779-1840), Fellow of the Linnean (1825) and Horticultural Societies, who owned a nursery at Brighton96 and was a friend of John Constable.97 A former teacher, Phillips produced several practical books which had much in common with Loudon's works. Detailed information on the trees' history and properties is given and they are arranged according to the natural order of de Jussieu with Linnaean nomenclature; he recommends the study of botany for a full enjoyment of the works of nature (pp. 72-3 and p. 271). Phillips continually stresses the visual qualities of various trees, but, perhaps unusually in the circumstances, includes no illustrations. This was possibly dictated by cost, but he may

9 5 . Jane Loudon 1845 p p . xxxii-xxxiii. 96. Stafleu and Cowan 1981 Vol. IV p. 241; Desmond 1994 p. 551. 9 7 . They met in Brighton in May 1824. Constable wrote to John Fisher: "I met with a most intelligent and elegant-minded man, Mr. Phillips. We became intimate and he contributes much to our pleasure here. He is a botanist and all his works on Natural History are instructive and entertaining, calculated for children of all ages. His history of trees is delightful, I shall buy them and I think you would if you saw them" (Beckett 1952 p. 183). See 'Constable's library' in Parris et al 1975 p. 45. have expected his clients to choose trees by looking at them growing in his nursery, as though at an arboretum.

The works discussed here show that their authors shared a common interest in tree planting and in extending the body of knowledge of trees. However, in the period they cover - nearly %00 years - the emphasis in relation to planting shifted from death to life: from trees as so much potential timber to their long-term visual qualities in the landscape and to a concern for their role in the plant kingdom. Hunter's interest in Linnaeus appears to have encouraged other Fellows of the Royal and Linnean Societies to publish works on trees. While ancient trees in their specific locations still attracted attention (and were later of special significance) knowledge of the growth and structure of trees, and especially of their appearances at different seasons (both as saplings and mature plants), became increasingly important to horticulturists and landscape gardeners.

All these factors encouraged patrons and artists to take a more naturalistic approach to tree drawing and to landscape painting in general, paralleling the new emphasis on a natural style of garden design. Published tree drawings indicate a presumption among those actively engaged in practical garden design and planting that representations should focus more sharply on the particular characters of the different types of tree. 136

CHAPTER FOUR

Tree drawing: picturesque theory and natural history practice

The treatises discussed above reveal how attitudes to trees and their depiction changed following the publication of Sylva. Their possibilities as financial investments first roused interest but their aesthetic qualities - whether as historic objects, in wild nature or in gardens and parks - soon drew the attention of artists and landscape gardeners, whose concerns were mainly visual. Although some individual landscape painters were drawing trees from nature towards the end of the century, and the growing interest in trees was creating a climate to encourage this, a treatise was published in 1791 which took the discussion of trees more fundamentally into the world of art. This was Remarks on Forest Scenery by William Gilpin, leading authority on the picturesque aesthetic following publication of his highly successful Essays and Tours of the 1780s. Gilpin's appointment as Vicar of Boldre in the New Forest in 1777 stimulated his interest in forest scenery and he began to make observations and take notes. Christopher Hussey remarked that this book "differs from his other publications in being, not the worked-up journal of a hurried tour, but the mature product of many years spent in the New Forest".1 A reviewer complained in 1791 of the lack of originality in the illustrations and that "his characteristic trees remind us of Colman's masquerade of characters out of character - the fir-trees appear like Dyers, with wet leather breeches exposed to the Sun"2 (Fig. 59) . Nevertheless, the work ran to five editions over the next century and, like his others, circulated in manuscript form during the decade prior to publication (Vol. I pp. ii-v).

1 . 1927 p. 122. 2 . Courtauld Institute 'Newspap’er Cuttings 1731-1811' (ZO CABS VOL I p. 96). Dated but newspaper not named. 137

Its contribution to a deeper understanding of trees, both artistically and in terms of natural history, was significant. The subtitle, "relative chiefly to picturesque beauty", indicates Gilpin's intention of extending his picturesque theory to cover trees, the "foundation of all scenery" (Vol. I p. iii), allowing artists to consider rural scenes as fit subjects for landscape painting along with the grander aspects of nature. This is certainly the main theme of the book but it is far more than that. It is also a treatise in the mode of Svlva. drawing on writings on trees from Pliny and Virgil to Evelyn and Plot; Gilpin's sad comments on forest depredations echo Evelyn and suggest that these areas had received little benefit from the latter's efforts.3 In exhibiting and encouraging direct and close observation - in other words, the study of trees - it may be considered a work of natural history. Finally, it provides practical advice for landscape painters, and this will be discussed in Part III.

Quotations, from Remarks on Forest Scenery, often of great length, are liberally sprinkled throughout early nineteenth- century publications on trees and landscape painting, indicating its wide readership among naturalists and artists (at a crucial time in the development of naturalism). Discussion of local history and detailed observations (unique at the time) of the structure and growth of trees give it the character of a 'Natural History of the New Forest', falling somewhere between Gilbert White's and Plot's publications.4 Many people would subsequently have regarded Gilpin as an authority on living trees and so as a naturalist - indeed, Gilbert Burnett, Professor of Botany at Kings College, referred to him as such in 1827.5

3 . See especially I Section VI and II Section XII. 4 . Gilpin mentions Plot's works but not White's. 5. 1827 p. 4. Henrey says John Lightfoot sent Gilpin his comments on the first edition (1975 Vol. II p. 533) but the 1794 text is little altered. Banks may also have known the work since the second edition includes a comment that wood from a great fir in Botany Bay is "in the possession of Sir Joseph Banks" (I p. 95). 138

Country clergy were hugely important to eighteenth-century natural history.6 Gilbert White is popularly (and perhaps rightly) considered the epitome of these naturalist-clerics and Natural History of Selborne (1789) is still in print after 200 years. Although not widely read until the 1820s, it became immensely popular and was a favourite of Constable's.7 In terms of his observations, however, White adds little to this discussion since he concentrates mainly on birds and small wildlife. However, his reference to the beech as "the most lovely of all forest trees.... its smooth bark, its glossy foliage and graceful pendulous boughs" (Letter 1), indicates his awareness of their aesthetic qualities. Otherwise his remarks are mainly limited to the felling of specific trees, including their size and timber yield, and to transpiration. In the village scenes by Grimm, although the trees are obviously of different types, it is not clear what these are, except in Plate VI which includes an ancient yew (recognisable by its distinctive trunk).

Gilpin's text indicates just how closely he observed nature, but the seventeen landscapes reproduced do not reflect his observational ability to any great extent. In spite of frequent use of the words "in Nature" and "natural", he transforms the works of nature into works of art in the picturesque mode. A reviewer in 1791 complained that "there is not the smallest originality, or novelty to be observed in them....", while congratulating Gilpin's brother (Sawrey) on the drawings of forest animals (added to some of the landscapes), saying that they increased his reputation "as a faithful delineator of the brute creation".8 This comment signifies an expectation that

6 . Allen 1978 pp. 22-23. 7. Allen 1976 pp. 50-52. The book consists of letters to Thomas Pennant and Daines Barrington and begins as Pennant was bringing out a new edition of British Zoology (White 1875 edition p. xvi). John Fisher recommended it to Constable as "in your own way of close natural observation" and Constable replied that it left a "lasting impression" on his mind (March and April 1821) (Beckett 1952 p p . 68 and 70). 8 . The cutting is dated 1791 but the paper's name is not stated (Courtauld Institute op. cit. Vol. I p. 96). 139 landscape painters should represent nature "faithfully" - in other words that their depictions should derive from observation and not imagination. An entry in Farington's Diary for 9 November 1795 reveals that this would, in fact, have been a problem for Gilpin: Sir George [Beaumont] passed three days with the Revd. Mr Gilpin at Boldre in the new forest in August along with Sawrey Gilpin.... In his drawings he aims to produce striking general effects but has no power of imitating particular objects and was surprised to see Sir G making a sketch of part of the Isle of Wight with accuracy, as it appeared to him a matter of great difficulty.

Gilpin's theory of picturesque beauty, as we saw in Part I, necessitated improving on nature, particularly in terms of composition. Gilpin contrasts the styles of earlier painters, for instance, those who "observed and copied with exact attention" and whose works were "characterised with truth", such as Herman Swanewelt and Antoine Waterloo,9 with the exemplars of 'classic' landscape, Claude, Gaspard Poussin and Salvator Rosa who "depended more on composition and general effect than on the exact resemblance of particular objects" (Vol. I p p . 214-215). The broad aims of classical landscape - improving on nature and »general effect" - are also those of Gilpin's picturesque; in "picturesque selection" the parts must be always subordinate to the whole (Vol. I pp. 250-251). On this subject he quotes Samuel Johnson (as many later landscape painters would do) on the business of the poet: to examine, not the individual, but the species; to remark general properties and large appearances. He does not number the streaks of the tulip, or describe the different shades of the verdure of the forest. He is to exhibit in his portraits of nature such prominent and striking features as recall the original to every mind and must neglect the minuter discriminations....10 Gilpin's descriptions, however, suggest the desirability of close observation to allow transition from the particular to the general (as Johnson was well aware). "I have endeavoured,"

9 . Swanewelt (1620-c.1659), "a disciple of Claude Lorain" (Williamson 1964 Vol. V p. 147). Waterloo (c.1610-1690); see Bachrach 1971 on his fondness for tree studies (Cat. Nos. 104-106). 10. Baaselas 1759 Ch 10. This is the correct wording; Gilpin quotes from memory with slight inaccuracies (Vol. I p. 222). 140

Gilpin says, "to investigate their general picturesque qualities in their several kinds and in the specific character of each" (Dedication p. iii). What he does not say is that "specific character" does not readily present itself to view but has to be sought by patient observation - the business of a naturalist in other words.

By emphasising "general effect" Gilpin gave the picturesque mode respectability and encouraged landscape painters to depict rural scenery which had not before been acceptable as fine art. Although critical of Dutch painters' attention to minutiae, his mention of the "truth" of their observance of forest scenery was of great importance in drawing attention to such works. Constable's letters and Farington's Diary for the early years of the nineteenth century, for instance, reveal increasing interest among landscape painters and connoisseurs in seventeenth-century Dutch landscapes, which often featured forest scenes.11 As we will see, "truth to nature" would become the maxim of those advocating naturalism from the 1790s - long before Ruskin upheld this approach.

Gilpin's own depictions in Remarks on Forest Scenery are generalised to the point of losing all particularity and one can scarcely think of them as representing real places (Figs. 59 and 60); a sepia tint also spreads a warm, unifying - and unnatural - glow. The trees may be broadly accurate in outline and mode of growth but they usually frame the scene as in ideal landscape. As for the foliage masses, although he adds some depth by the use of chiaroscuro, the leaves are barely indicated, probably because Gilpin was not skilled at depicting the characters of the foliage in order to show the generalised image necessary in a painting. On the other hand, his sketches of sprays and "ramifications" show his ability to draw naturalistically when he wished (Fig. 99). These explain his text and stress the importance of the accurate delineation of the spray which "fixes

1 1 . On seventeenth-century Dutch landscape see Stechow 1966; Bachrach 1971. the character of the tree", although too much accuracy can be "pedantic" (Vol. I p. 101).12 His understanding of the direct link between appearance and "mode of growth", which we will consider more fully in Part III, was an important insight derived from his observations.

The picturesque qualities of single trees, groves and forests are discussed, particularly the visual impact of their varied colours, shapes and sizes (Vol. I p. 172 ff.). Gilpin comments on the consequences of "peculiar situations" on the growth of trunks and roots, not as a botanical curiosity but because they are frequently picturesque. The pleasing effects of light and shade and of the motion of trees are also noted, with a comment on the difficulty of depicting these aspects in paintings (Vol. I p. 21). His declared object is to "teach the eye to admire justly; and to apply to artificial landscape those observations which occur in natural: for the source of beauty is the same in both" (Vol. I p. 227). ppmarks on Forest Scenery differs from Gilpin's other works in its uneasy dichotomy between his observation and description of nature and his picturesque theory and practice. Gilpin's picturesque mode eschews delineation of recognisable types of tree in order to achieve the essential overall "effect", but his discussion of trees is based on the sort of close attention normally the province of natural history. He was surely aware of this but felt either unable or unwilling to make radical changes to this aesthetic. The 'picturesque view' remained to a large extent the subject matter of landscape painting well into the nineteenth century and, in terms of the selection of specific objects in nature, such as trees, picturesque criteria continued to play a part. However, the seeds of change in ideas surrounding picturesque landscape are to be found in this work. Gilpin's descriptions of living trees brought them into focus for other artists (at a time when the nature poets were also

12. The didactic aspects of this work will be discussed in detail in Part III. 142 extolling rural scenery); they also provided a starting point for learning more about them and showed that study could be the basis for landscape painting. This will become apparent when we look more closely at Gilpin's advice on tree drawing and the way this book was used by later teachers of the subject.

Nineteenth century: truth to nature

Gilpin's contribution involved artists more specifically by conferring respectability on the depiction of trees within the framework of picturesque landscape. He also opened the way, through his observations as a naturalist, to an alternative approach to depicting them: through study. Works on the subject continued to be published in the nineteenth century and these indicate further changes in attitude and a vastly increased awareness of living trees, with dendrology forming an aspect of botany, in which tree depictions played an important role. The works will be looked at roughly chronologically because they generally build on previous publications, or react against them, revealing the authors' own preoccupations.

In 1802 John Aitkin (1747-1822) published The Woodland Companion- It is ironic that although this is a pocket volume, designed presumably to facilitate the recognition of the trees "which compose our woods and decorate our parks and pleasure grounds", all the plates are of tree parts, designed for their classification. These are reproduced from the botanical drawings in Hunter's edition of Silva, from which most of the text also seems to be taken without being credited. The following year A npfirription of the Genus Pinus by the botanist Aylmer Bourne Lambert FRS, FLS (1761-1842) moved away from the themes of Silva to a more strictly botanical approach. Dedicated to Sir Joseph Banks, it contains forty-three plates (of parts only) by well- known botanical artists (the Bauer brothers, James Sowerby and some others) with Latin nomenclature. Interestingly, the 1832 edition, dedicated to William IV, includes some illustrations of 143 whole trees in landscape settings, which appear to be by Lambert himself (he was also a Fellow of the Society of Artists). This no doubt reflects the King's interest in forest trees; Henry William Burgess - 'Painter to the Crown' - had only recently dedicated a complete folio set of drawings of such trees to him. Both these works suggest a certain unease regarding the requirements, in terms of depictions, of field naturalists and practical men working with trees on the one hand and those of botanists on the other. However, for some authors, and particularly those who were Fellows of the Royal or Linnean Societies, taxonomic information is now clearly seen as essential.

The 1820s brought a very great change in attitude to the representation of trees. This is epitomised by the tree drawings of Jacob George Strutt (1790-1864) which were recognised as landmarks of naturalistic depiction by members of the scientific and artistic community in Britain. Strutt himself appears to have been taken aback by "public approbation far exceeding any that my hopes had anticipated".13 They were published mainly in gylva Britannica, in folio parts from 1822 to 1826 with a complete edition in 1826, and Deliciae Silvarum (1828). These works unite the old tradition of treatise (the title suggests this), emphasising the history, literary associations and folklore around particular ancient trees and the uses and culture of each type, with new values related to the close study of nature and the "faithful" representation of trees. Although originally a portrait painter, Strutt turned to landscapes and exhibited his forest scenes at the British Institution and the Royal Academy between 1820 and 1850. The subtitle of Svlva Rritannica - "Portraits of Forest Trees, distinguished for their Antiquity, Magnitude or Beauty. Drawn from Nature and Etched by Jacob George Strutt" - indicates the precedence of the forty-six depictions over the text, and Strutt's own involvement in the whole process of their production.

13. Dedication Svlva Britannica 1826. 144

In the introduction to Sylva Britannica Strutt states his aim: "to preserve the characteristics and perpetuate the remembrance" of the noblest trees, including "every circumstance of local connection or traditional interest" and to represent them "with as much of the spirit of Nature" as possible and "with all the truth which minute remark and faithful imitation may lay claim to". The etchings in the large folio editions are particularly impressive. The reference to truth echoes Gilpin (whose Remarks nn Forest: Scenery is frequently cited by Strutt) although their style of depiction is totally different. The former worked according to conventions of art (his own), the latter according to those of natural history fieldwork, completely integrating his observations with his practice. His approach to tree drawing is based on the conviction that each species in nature can and should be faithfully represented. Nevertheless, Gilpin's own close observation surely provided the model for Strutt1s approach. Strutt's landscapes, especially the later ones, are picturesque within the meaning of the term as it evolved in the nineteenth century, but the great trees featured centrally in each scene have the appearance of living plants.

Strutt avoids the unnatural stiffness of earlier topographical artists' attempts, as well as their emphasis on outline. We will see, however, that some later landscape painters achieved a much greater freedom of handling in their tree drawing. All these etchings testify to Strutt's close observation and prolonged drawing practice from nature. Each type is easily recognisable from the mode of growth of the trunk and larger branches, the texture of the bark, and usually from the foliage (especially in the later etchings), the specific character of which is shown in sufficient detail, as appropriate for its position on the tree and distance from the eye. They also display the contrast between the solidity and strength of the trunks and the flexibility of the smaller branches and 'sprays'.

The sixth Duke of Bedford, whose interest in trees extended beyond the improvement of his property, gave Strutt his support. The dedication to the Duke in Svlva Britannica - "in pride and 145 gratitude" - suggests that he assisted Strutt in some material way, perhaps with the printing, or in helping him to obtain numerous titled landowners as subscribers (including George IV) and in gaining access to private estates to draw many well-known trees. We have seen how landowners who wished to have their properties painted were important patrons for landscape painters. Two early etchings in Sylva Britannica, dated 1822 and 1823, are of Woburn trees; the text to the first of these, 'The Abbot's Oak at Woburn' (Fig. 61.), is fairly typical. Strutt relates the history of the tree and the origin of its name (from the Abbot who in 1527 was hanged from its branches), its age, height and girth, and comments that the comparative smallness of its size in view of its considerable age no doubt resulted from unfavourable soil.14 In the etching scale is indicated by the surrounding fence and the deer in the foreground (which add picturesque appeal); the park setting, with other trees - probably elms - in the middle distance, was almost certainly also drawn on the spot. Most earlier portraits of ancient trees, such as those reproduced in the various editions of Evelyn's work, tended to treat other trees in a distinctly arbitrary manner, as we have seen.

A comparison of Strutt's early and later etchings shows that his knowledge of the growth and structure of trees and ability to represent them improved with further study from nature. While he did not at first notice the effect of distance from the eye between the top and lower branches of the tree (see Fig. 61); by 1825 he recognised that the topmost sprays need to appear smaller in a drawing. He is also better able to portray the smaller branches (see 'The Wallace Oak' (Fig. 62)).15 Strutt eventually observed that branches - and most trunks - do not taper gradually and regularly, but in stages, losing girth at

1 4 . This oak, and several other trees drawn by Strutt, still survive (Woburn estate records). 1 5 . Aviva Scotia (dated 1825), published with Svlva Britannica 1826. Compare the version of this tree by Alexander Nasmyth who has enhanced its picturesque setting (Fig. 63). 146 the point of growth of a smaller branch or twig. One loose print, 'The Bees Oak at Beauvale, Co. Warwick,116 which is signed but not dated, is clearly an early attempt since Strutt had not yet understood this important structural feature. In the same drawing the branches are insufficiently angular, and the character of the foliage and sprays is not well marked; Strutt was later able to show these features correctly, in 'Yew at Ankerwyke' (1822) (Fig. 64) the spiky character of the needles is well represented. On this plate several kinds of trees are shown growing close together, demonstrating Strutt's ability to reproduce the different textures of their respective barks. Beside the yew is a cedar of Lebanon and between them but more distant a tall fir with drooping branches is partially visible; on the right, in the middle distance, are some groups of elms or limes and, further off (behind a building) appears the top of a tall poplar. In this work the size of the yew can be assessed from the height of the man standing beneath it.

A reviewer of the second edition of Svlva Britannica and the full large folio edition of Deliciae Silvarum (1828-29) remarked on the artist's "improvement in terms of finish, more light and shade and more pictorial effect" and of the "very superior order" of his plates, which "possess the freshness, spirit and freedom of original sketches". He goes on, They have the merit...of depicting, and in most cases with great precision, the true characteristic features of each species intended to be represented. The trees proclaim their own kind: they are oak trees, ash, beach, yew, etc., and not only so, but faithful portraits of individual species of each.16 17 It is noticeable that the words "true" and "faithful" are used with complete assurance of the values of naturalistic depiction and of Strutt's intention; also that the beholder is now expected to be able to identify tree species in landscape paintings. If the drawings "proclaim their own kind" because they represent the "true characteristic features of each species" they should be recognisable by those already possessing

16. BM Print Room (C6*). 1 7 . "ARY" MNH 1829-30 Vol. Ill p p . 380-382. 147 such knowledge and have the potential to be understood by- others . The reviewer explains Strutt's ability by reference to his practice: If we mistake not, Mr Strutt is more of an out-of-door artist than some of his fraternity; we mean that he is in the habit of sketching much, and even painting, in the open air.... We apprehend that he studies Nature above and before all other models, and looks upon her as a surer guide to excellence than even the best of old masters.18 Comparison of several elms, such as the 'Tutbury Wych Elm' (c. 1822) (Fig. 65), the 'Wych Elm at Bagot's Mill' (1825) (Fig. 66), and 'Wych Elm at Polloc' (Svlva Scotia 1825) (Fig. 67) confirms further refinement of Strutt's vision and practice. In the later drawings the distinct characters of the foliage are more evident, the rounded appearance of the larger sprays is improved, and the branches taper correctly. Increased confidence seems to have allowed Strutt's hand to move somewhat more freely, while greater control of light and shade has increased naturalism and improved pictorial effect. It is also noticeable that his ability to represent clouds has progressed enormously.

Strutt's drawings invite comparison with the trees in nature since they possess an authority deriving from a detailed knowledge of his subject matter, acquired through close and prolonged study,19 and the skill and confidence with which he communicates that knowledge. Landscape painters and others with an interest in trees would have recognised that Strutt was working according to different criteria to those generally accepted for the landscape genre and would have learned far more from his drawings than those of any previous artist. The plates in fiylva Britannica and Deliciae Silvarum radically changed attitudes to the depiction of trees and were reproduced in virtually every subsequent work on the subject. Strutt was undoubtedly considered an expert, although, as he says in the Introduction, the "minutiae of botanical definitions", Latin names and other classificatory information, are omitted. Strutt

18. Ibid. p. 380. 19. Emphasised in his article on tree drawing (MNH 1828 Vol. I p. 39), (See Part III below). 148 was another whom Burnett called a "natural historian". His drawings provide evidence of a move to a new era in which naturalism in landscape painting is a viable alternative to other modes of depiction. He showed unequivocably that the quest for "truth" in the study of nature could enhance landscape painting and that the practice of drawing trees from nature allowed artists many insights regarding structure and growth. The influence of Strutt's knowledge of the various trees and his manner of portraying them is reflected in the practice and teaching of other landscape painters, as well as in articles and books by botanists and arboriculturists. His rather stiff style may have acted as an incentive to other painters to experiment with different mediums and methods of reproduction.

T-rtqe drawing after Strutt: naturalism becomes the norm

Reaction to Strutt's work indicates that his naturalistic approach to tree drawing was, with a few exceptions, hailed as paradigmatic. It had two very important effects: it set a standard of excellence for other landscape painters and it enabled tree drawings to be used within a more broadly based botany which emerged in the 1830s.

The botanical information included by Hunter in his editions of Silva reflected his admiration for Linnaeus, and some subsequent writers on trees followed his lead; others were attracted to Gilpin or Strutt. In 1834 the writer, naturalist and artist, Sir Thomas Dick Lauder (1784-1848) brought out an edition of Gilpin's Forest Scenery containing his own detailed comments, notes and anecdotes.20 He is critical of many landscape painters' "uncommon ignorance, or indolence or slovenliness" which causes them to cover the foreground with "unmeaningful daubings".21 The most obvious and significant change is his

20. In the preface Lauder quotes extensively from Archibald Alison's On the wafiire and Principles of Taste (1799), of which he edited an edition. 21. Vol. I p. 320. 149 replacement of all Gilpin's own picturesque scenes with trees drawn from nature, including some copies after Strutt, whom he quotes frequently in the text; the others are engraved by "Mr Kidd", who may also have done the drawings (Fig. 68). This edition did not find favour with a later writer on trees and ferns, Francis George Heath, who published his own edition of rH Inin's Forest Scenery in 1897 based on the author's "extensively revised" text of 1794.22 Heath criticises Lauder for ignoring these revisions and for swamping the work with his own comments. He also complains bitterly of the "singularly ineffective and clumsy drawings of individual trees" which Lauder substituted for Gilpin's own "charmingly suggestive landscapes" (an expression of Victorian nostalgia). If Gilpin's book is taken to be solely concerned with picturesque beauty, this might be a fair criticism, but Lauder no doubt felt justified in attempting to relate the illustrations more closely to the natural history aspects of the work, indeed the seeds for such a shift were sown by Gilpin himself. At a time of renewed interest in natural history, on which Lauder also wrote,23 the inclusion of Strutt's closely observed drawings must have appeared not only appropriate but desirable (and may have extended their audience); Kidd's work, however, leaves much to be desired. Lauder's anecdotes, while constantly interrupting the original text, add weight to Gilpin's arguments against the depredation of forest areas.

Further encouragement for artists to study trees was given by the publication between 1826 and 1831 of Eidodendron24 by Henry William Burgess (fl. 1809-1844), prolific exhibitor and 'Painter to the Crown' from 1826. The subtitle, "Views of the General Character and Appearance of Trees, foreign25 and indigenous,

22. In fact, Gilpin's changes are relatively minor and do not alter the overall emphasis of the work. 23- He published a two-volume work on the subject in 1833-34. 24. Eidodendron translates roughly as "the study of the form or shape of trees" (from 'eidos', that which is seen, form, shape; and 'dendrology', the study of trees). 25. i.e. trees introduced into Britain; Burgess did not work abroad. 150 connected with picturesque scenery", indicates that Burgess intended to reinforce the compatibility of the study of nature with picturesque composition in the production of landscape scenes, first given validity by Strutt. Unlike Strutt's works, these views of forest scenery were not accompanied by letterpress but only by a brief preface. In the dedication to William IV,26 Burgess declares that he trusts to the "fidelity and accuracy" of the delineations to show that "truth rather than fiction is the concern of those engaged in the profession of landscape painting" (p. 2). He points out the importance and inseparability of trees to landscape, quoting Gilpin on the subject; his desire to "stay the desolating axe" indicates that things have not greatly improved in this respect. His drawings "mark the distinctive and peculiar characters of each, not only in its own form and foliage but also in those essential accompaniments of soil and water and of the vegetable or animal world, without which the isolated character of the tree would scarcely be complete" (Preface p. ii). This view of the relationship of trees with other aspects of the natural world - also expressed by Gilpin and Strutt - shows that landscape painters were becoming aware of the important effects of habitat on growth and appearance and that these could at least be indicated in a drawing.

The most obvious difference between Burgess and Strutt is in their style; the former exhibits a far greater freedom of handling. This is partly because reproduction of the softer, broader pencil marks was possible with the lithographic process whereas the etching pen favoured by Strutt, while enabling him to give more detailed, precise information, curtailed his freedom. The disparity is most evident in foliage. It was recognised as notoriously difficult to achieve the characters of foliage and even those who excelled at tree drawing generally took many years to acquire the necessary understanding and skills. Comparing, for instance. Strutt's 'Abbot's Oak at

26. The early parts were dedicated to George IV. 151

Woburn' (Fig. 61) with Burgess's 'Oak Trees in Windsor Forest' (Fig. 69), picturesque effect in the latter is more striking, while little information seems to have been sacrificed. The trees clearly are oaks from their manner of growth, the angular structure of their branches, the openness of the foliage masses and the shape of the leaves where visible against the sky or dark areas. Nevertheless, a close look at Strutt's drawing reveals that his foliage sprays, even in the masses, always retain the characteristic shape of oak leaves, whereas Burgess often employs a type of 'shorthand'27 to give the impression of many leaves clustered together (see also 'Beech Trees at Knowle' (Fig. 70)). It will be remembered that the Duke of Bedford commissioned work by these painters and no doubt their different approaches appealed to him and to others: Burgess observed nature but emphasises picturesque effect in his forest scenes; Strutt, concentrating on portraits of ancient trees, communicates a deep understanding of each sort.28

They are both adept with the play of light and shade but Burgess's views often display outstanding atmospheric effects. His omission of any mention of Strutt implies rivalry or criticism and it is not difficult to discern a conviction that concentration on particulars brings a consequent loss of general effect. He takes an obvious pride in his own ability "to be exact as to definition of character, but not minute to the destitution of effect", and reinforces this by quoting (echoing Gilpin) Dr Johnson's dictum on generalising (Preface p. ii) . Although drawing on Gilpin's theories, his trees, unlike those of his mentor, are undoubtedly living plants. A reviewer of ■pi Hnriftndron asserts that all but three of Burgess's drawings

27. A word used by another landscape painter to express his disgust at this common habit among landscape painters (see below). 28. "Kind" is generally used to denote different genera by botanists such as Burnett and Loudon. The former sometimes writes "class...", "family..." or "genera of trees". The word "species" is used very loosely by most writers on trees, often where one of the above would be more appropriate; even Loudon does this occasionally: "the touch of more species of trees than the oak, the ash, the weeping willow..." (AFB Vol. I p. 14) when he means genera or class). 152

(including the oaks and beeches shown here) are "cognizable as expressive types of the respective kinds they are intended to represent".29 The question of differing styles in naturalistic depiction will be discussed further in Part III but it is important to understand why Strutt was considered the exemplar in these matters rather than Burgess, since both asserted their truth to nature.

Although Burgess's drawings were popular, Eidodendron became equally known for the essay on oaks it contained.30 Amoenitates nnerneae (oaken delights) was written by the botanist Gilbert Burnett (1800-1835), who four years later was appointed Professor of Botany at King's College, London. This long essay is evidence of important developments in the study of growing trees and of a continued interest in tree drawings within this investigation; as we will see, this was not an isolated phenomenon but took place in the context of new trends in botany. Burnett shows his concern for a more comprehensive attitude to the study of plants, involving a broadening of the criteria to be taken into consideration to include such things as distribution, the effect of different habitats and the "general habits and influence of trees, in their association with other parts of nature". He is critical of naturalists for neglecting trees and of botanists for confining their study of them to isolated parts and for creating confusion in the naming and identification of different species (pp. 3-4) .

Burnett deals with the properties and uses of oaks but his main discussion is of particular ancient specimens whose "immemorial age" renders them objects of celebrity and reverence. He is clearly familiar with earlier treatises on trees and draws on an extensive knowledge of poetry from Homer to Thompson (his

29. "J.M. Chelsea" MNH 1829 Vol. II p. 52. 30. James Britten dismissed the plates as of "no botanical importance", but considered the essay "a very complete account" in which Burnett proposed three new names for oak species (1919 p p . 223-224). Compare Stafleu 1981 Vol. I p. 412 . 153 familiarity with Greek and Latin is evidence of a classical education) in the manner of Evelyn. He discusses the "three great characters of this noblest tree... strength, magnitude and longevity". The immense size and age of particular oaks becomes important to Burnett later within the study of plant physiology and morphology but here he considers the oak's great stability and mode of growth of the trunk (on which the rebuilt Eddystone Lighthouse was modelled) as part of "vegetable mechanics" (p. 4). As might be expected, Burnett discusses the genera and species, as established by "the progress of botanical science", and in particular the four British species (pp. 2-3), with the types of soil they favour (p. 3). An anecdote concerning some initials carved into an oak in 1785, which "were nine inches within the tree" when it was felled years later, is used to explain its manner of growing from the outside (p. 9). A slip page in some editions contains a notice of Burnett's intention "to deal with all the families of Forest trees in turn". He requests people to continue to send information to him at the Royal Institution (to which he was elected in May 1828) "as to the growth and culture of forest trees, their size, historical associations, traditions, etc.".31

Burnett considered drawings an important element in the study of trees. In his later lectures and publications he used drawings by his sister to explain particular points since whole trees cannot be stored in herbaria like other plant specimens. Burnett may have seen exhibited paintings of trees by Burgess; at any rate the appearance of his essay in Eidodendron is an endorsement of Burgess's capacity to convey certain important information. On the whole he is critical of artists' ability and understanding, saying that they "too often dwell on trifling or unimportant details; few are gifted so to seize the essential character as to put the stamp of nature on the work of art". For instance, Gilpin in Remarks on Forest Scenery "had not the graphic power to convey to others that which himself so truly

31> p-i Hnfiendron (Issue No. 5). 154 felt." and "trusted to his own hand for those sketches which none but an accomplished pencil can pourtray" (p. 4). Gilpin was not, of course, intending to convey the characters of trees in his paintings, but for Burnett this was clearly the first requirement of tree depiction. Burnett clearly expected naturalists to be aware of, and artists to convey, the strength, size and age of oaks as well as the "perspective character of Each in its peculiar honours clad That publish even to the distant eye Its family and its tribe" (p. 4). This will be seen to go far beyond the requirements of taxonomy. I will show in Part III that "seizing the essential character" was the foundation of the teaching of tree drawing and the aim of naturalistic landscape painters.

Dendrology and the beauty of truth

The comprehensive range of the final work on trees to be discussed has never been surpassed; it combines all the elements of the treatises with full botanical information. Loudon's arboretum at Fruticetum Britannicum was published in eight volumes between 1835 and 1838.32 Sir William Hooker wrote that "there is not a naturalist in Europe who could have executed the task with anything like the talent and accuracy displayed by Mr. Loudon";33 the Quarterly Review congratulated him on completing his "Herculaean task", declaring it worthy of a place in the library of every landed gentleman... every student of botanical, arboricultural and horticultural science.... a standard book of reference on all subjects connected with trees.34 This comment suggests its likely readership, but the cost of

32. Second edition 1844 (almost identical). A very few sets were issued with colour plates (Stafleu and Cowan 1981 Vol. Ill p. 171). The only one I have tracked down (but not seen) is at Chatsworth; the four volumes are hand coloured by James Ridgway and Sons and are finely bound in full green morocco, a e.g., and with the Sixth Duke's crest, but the plate numbers are "scattered awry" (Michael Pearman, personal communication). 33. Quoted Green 1914 p. 380. 3 4 . (October 1838). See also Westminster Review 1841 Vol. XXXV p p . 441-442 in which W.E. Hickson echoes this comment. 155 production was enormous and put Loudon in debt to the tune of £10,000 which he was still paying off at his death.35 The .Tmirnal of Horticulture of 1902 referred to it as "an indispensable work to all botanists even at the present day and the best illustrated work of its kind".36

Mention has already been made of Loudon as a landscape gardener and designer with a special interest in trees. He is variously described as a writer on horticulture, agriculture and architecture, an arboriculturist, landscape gardener, naturalist and botanist.37 With his life-long study of trees - his knowledge of all aspects of trees was probably greater than that of any of his contemporaries - he would probably have appreciated the title dendrologist, but the term "practical botanist" appears frequently in the Arboretum and this seems most appropriate, particularly in view of his work on botanical gardens and arboreta. In 1803 (aged twenty-one) he first met Joseph Banks, and through him other naturalists, and became a Fellow of the Linnean Society in 1806, proposed by the Vice- president William George Maton, Thomas Marsham and Alexander McLeay. This Fellowship was clearly important to him since 'FLS1 appears after his name in advertisements for two botanical books he edited - Hortus Britannicus (1830) and Encyclopaedia of plants (1840) - the latter described as "the most useful and popular botanical work that has ever appeared in the English language".38 The Linnean was the senior society in natural history, catering for the 'gentleman naturalist' with various areas of interest, including botany. The description 'botanist' seems to indicate a more specialised interest in plant taxonomy at the least, whereas 'naturalist' has broader connotations, often associated with zoology.

35. Jane Loudon 1845 p. xxxix. 36. P- 238. 3 7 . Stafleu and Cowan refer to him as a botanist (1981 Vol. Ill p. 168); Desmond as "horticultural writer and editor" (1994 p. 438). 38. Cabinet Cyclopaedia: W. Swainson Taxidermy 1840, Advertisement p p . 13 and 16 (including the review, taken from Jameson's Philosophical Journal). 156

On several trips in Europe (he knew French, Italian and German), Loudon visited landscape and botanical gardens to collect material and to make sketches for his various publications. With an introductory letter from Banks he met "the scientific men of the day",39 including Augustin-Pyramus de Candolle, on whose system of arrangement of plants he modelled the Arboretum. He was a prolific writer on all his many areas of interest, publishing important work on architecture, popular encyclopaedias such as the Encyclopaedia of Gardening and editing influential periodicals, the most important of which were The Gardener's Magazine (editor 1826-1843) and The Magazine nf Natural History (editor 1828-1836).40

As well as advice on planting, many aspects of the earlier treatises are reiterated or brought up-to-date in the Arboretum, especially the history of different trees, their properties, and the uses of various types of timber. New features reflect Loudon's own preoccupations and values, in particular those of landscape gardening and dendrology - the "science of the study of trees" - in which he incorporates tree drawing from nature, and the provision of practical advice. The trees are arranged according to the natural system, allowing information of great relevance to living trees to be included - for instance their entire appearance, external structure and growth patterns and habitat. He urges the planting of arboreta according to this system (again a stress on the whole tree, arranged botanically, reflected in the use of 'arboretum' in the title) and exhorts all those working with trees to extend their botanical knowledge. Like Gilpin he extols the great variety of trees and their beauty in landscape but particularly their value as contrasting features in garden design. Gilpin and Strutt had already shifted the discussion of trees towards the visual; Loudon continues and extends this aesthetic discourse by

3 9 . Jane Loudon 1845 p. xiii. Biographical details are taken mainly from this Memoir (pp. ix-li) which is reprinted in MacDougall 1980 pp. 6-46. 40. See Ray Desmond 1980 p p . 79-97; also Loudon's obituary in The Gentleman's Magazine 1844 Vol. XXI pp. 206-207. 157 integrating it into a scientific study through a systematic use of tree drawings, and an emphasis on learning through the practice of drawing.41

The Arboretum's 600 portraits of "entire trees" done from nature are contained in four complete volumes and are scattered throughout the text.42 They are intended "to give a palpable representation of their forms and magnitudes, and character to make a stronger impression on the mind of the reader" (APB Vol. I p. vi)43 (Figs. 77-79 and 81-83). Various views also display the effect of contrasts of size and shape in landscape and botanical specimens (of the flowers and seeds) and specimens of leaves are included. The volumes of plates (one to each page) are also grouped according to the natural system and comprise young and full-grown trees drawn at specific times of year and to an exact scale. The impact of the scale drawings in the n-rhoretum and their grouping would have been considerable, especially in facilitating comparison, of immense importance in the recognition and classification of whole trees. Strutt recognised the different characters of saplings and mature trees but generally worked from the latter; he did not discuss taking measurements. Loudon referred to Strutt as "unquestionably the best delineator of trees in this or any other country" (AFB Vol. Ill p. 1790). His drawings feature throughout the Arboretum and function as models for Loudon's views on tree depiction and for the practice of the landscape painters he employed and supervised, against whose work the skill and authority of Strutt's depictions stands as exceptional. Wherever they appeared his drawings provided eloquent examples for artists working from nature. Apart from Strutt, Constable, Alexander Nasmyth and George Robson, Loudon had been strongly critical of

41. Practical and experimental aspects of tree drawing form the subject matter of Part III of this thesis. Botanical issues are considered further in the next chapter. 42. Vols. V-VIII contain 412 tree portraits; 190 smaller portraits and fifty- one landscapes appear in the text in Vols. I-IV (AFB Vol. I cliv-clxiv). 4 3 . "Form" includes mode of growth, shape, magnitude, outline against the sky or other objects, and colour (Vol. I p. 193). 158 the representation of trees by landscape painters since 1828, when he published an article by Strutt on tree drawing.44 In the arboretum he continues to demand that they study trees properly and to encourage this devotes a complete section to the practice of tree drawing from nature (Vol. I pp. 13-14 and pp. 2 02-

211) .45

The Arboretum contains much discussion of trees as pictorial components of scenery (in a section 'Of the Science of the Study of Trees', which also includes a botanical chapter) and of their "expression and character" (Vol. I pp. 193-211). Engravings of whole specimens, however, form a vital part of the botanical description of the trees (Vol. I pp. 222-223).46 In spite of the significance Loudon attaches to their appearance, he is at pains to emphasise that "a faithful portrait of the species" must exhibit natural beauty and expression, with reference to the kind of tree drawn; and not beauty and character with reference to any description of graphic art. It is, in short, the beauty of truth, not local or peculiar truth, or truth with reference to any mode of depicting it (AFB Vol. I p. 202). To avoid "local or peculiar truth", picturesque or "gardenesque" trees (single specimens chosen for special display) must be avoided. Loudon deplores "a portrait taken to show the picturesque effect of broken lights and shadows, breadth of masses, deep tone of colours, the sharpness of lines printed from copper or steel, or the softness of touches printed from zinc or stone" or other aspects pertaining solely to "the individual rather than the species under circumstances which have nothing to do with its character or expression" (AFB Vol. I p. 202). It is perhaps becoming clear why Loudon chose Strutt's depictions as exemplars rather than those of Burgess.

4 4 . MNH 1828 Vol. X p. 37. Knowledge of these artists' work indicates that Loudon attended exhibitions. Alexander Nasmyth (1758-1840) taught in Edinburgh, taking his students outside to draw from nature in the 1790s (Harrison 1990). George Fennel Robson's (1788-1833) tours in the Lake District and Scotland were spent "studying nature" in all its various aspects (Redgrave 1866 pp. 403-404). 45. Reprinted with slight alterations in GM 1835 Vol. XI p p . 395-412. 46. The engravings are discussed in Chapter Five. 159

Tree books which appeared after 1838 tended either to follow Loudon or to ignore his work completely in favour of Gilpin. I will only mention three of the most popular, in each of which depictions are handled differently. George Childs' Woodland .qyp»tches: A Series of Character Portraits of Trees (1839) is in the latter category. Childs quotes Evelyn a great deal but the book is really concerned with picturesque beauty and draws heavily on Gilpin. In terms of generalised picturesque effect his drawings work quite well; in terms of study, although the trunks (while tapering too regularly) show some evidence of this, all foliage is ill-observed and depicted, creating uncertainty regarding type. Most landscape painters were usually able to grasp the essentials of drawing trunks by analogy with drawing cylindrical objects and the various textures form a type of patterning which could also be learned reasonably easily.

On the other hand, Prideaux John Selby's (1788-1867) popular work a History of British Forest Trees (1842), considered by a modern writer as "one of the most important contributions to the subject",47 is in the Loudon mould. A Fellow of the Linnean Society, of the Royal Society of Edinburgh and a member of the Natural History Society of Newcastle, Selby's special interests were ornithology and forestry.48 This is a concise volume for the general reader and "a sort of manual to the planter and those interested in arboriculture", Loudon's work being long and costly.49 However, he follows Loudon's approach almost entirely, quotes him frequently and recommends his readers to refer to the ar-bnretum for further information. A drawing of the whole tree, usually in a landscape, heads the discussion of each type and Selby makes clear his perception that drawings assist in communicating general characters (pp. vi-xi). Latin and common

4 7 . Freeman 1980 p. 403. The others are Evelyn's Svlva and the Arboretum. 48. DNB■ 4 9 . In 1841 Loudon had published his own "abridgement" of the Arboretum, the cinnvclppaedia of Trees and Shrubs, in ten monthly instalments, presumably for the same reason. This had fewer illustrations but contained "all that is essential for the nurseryman, gardener and forester" (Preface). It also cost him £1200, putting him further into debt. 160 names are given as well as the natural order, genus and species (with references to earlier nomenclature by Linnaeus, Loudon, Smith, Martyn, etc.) and each species' distinguishing characters are described fully. Selby considers the drawings better suited to the intentions of the work than the selection of portraits of remarkable trees which, though they might have added to the beauty, would have failed in conveying the impress of truth and fidelity which it was the object of the Author to stamp upon the delineations....(p. xi). This is generally achieved, particularly in suggesting the overall shape of each sort of tree, and differing growth patterns of branches and foliage. The artist, who may be the engraver 'S.H. Williams' (also used by Loudon) since no other name appears, has conveyed a sense of the trees as living plants and has clearly studied the foliage, but the drawings, or the engravings from them, are too blurred to show the characters of the leaves sufficiently clearly (Fig. 71).

Thp Forest Trees of Britain (1847) was written by Charles Alexander Johns FLS (1811-1847) for the general reader "desirous of exploring the wonders of Nature... to satisfy his curiosity and stimulate fresh research",- the innumerable parks of England make it, he says, "very favourable for the study of trees" (p. ix). Johns was founder and President of the Winchester Literary and Philosophical Society and author of many popular scientific and educational books.50 He briefly discusses the usefulness of the Linnaean system but generally avoids technical terms, giving only a simple definition of natural orders and differentiating between genera, species and varieties. A "general but slight sketch of the anatomical structure" of each tree (p. ix) suffices but the reader is referred to other works, including the Arboretum, for further botanical information. Johns describes the "characters" of each genus, for instance elms: "...lofty trees, having a straight columnar trunk, with hard wood, a rugged bark, and zig-zag, slender branches, which, when young, are either downy or corky". In the accompanying 161 drawing by 'Whimper',51 (Fig. 72) these characters can be seen and he has also captured the main characteristic of the foliage, seen in mid-distance - the large rounded masses formed by the clusters; a figure strolling nearby suggests the scale.

Loudon's enthusiasm for people to learn more about trees was so great that it is likely he would have welcomed these two popular books with some reservations. Like him, both authors understood' the value of drawings of whole trees in communicating their characters. Although they are not always entirely successful in this respect, the combination of such drawings with the Latin and popular names and other taxonomic information would have been very helpful to the general reader. Both Selby and Johns were naturalists and Fellows of the Linnean Society yet their interest in trees extended beyond classification.

In the Arboretum Loudon sums up the extent and value of earlier literature on trees and his own reasons for publishing: The number of works which have been written, exclusively devoted to the description and uses of trees and shrubs shows, in a general point of view, the estimated importance of the subject by authors; and, when we consider the rapidity of the succession of these works within a comparatively limited period, it shows the accumulation of knowledge which is continually being acquired respecting ligneous plants.... the first books on dendrology were merely local catalogues, enumerating the medical, or such other properties as, in the age in which these books were produced, excited most attention, while the last are scientific descriptions, with the geography, history and uses in civilised society, of all the species and varieties enumerated. The conclusion which we draw with reference to the literature of trees and shrubs is, that, though there are a great many excellent works on the subject already before the public in the English, French and German languages, yet none of these works embrace the whole subject and bring it down to the present time.... (AFB Vol.Ip. 192).

The eighteenth century saw a general increase in the appreciation of trees as aesthetic objects - both in the wild and in parks and gardens - alongside their value as investments. There was also a market for portraits of ancient trees, but

51. Perhaps Josiah Whymper (1813-1903) or his wife Emily, who were both landscape painters (Desmond 1994 p. 738). 162

landscape painters had to overcome strong academic disapproval of rural scenery. This was greatly helped by the publication of Gilpin's Remarks on Forest Scenery which drew attention to the importance of trees in the landscape. While emphasising picturesque beauty, Gilpin's observations as a naturalist, which in themselves extended the knowledge of trees and encouraged painters to study and draw trees direct from nature, opened the way for a deeper understanding of tree species and an emphasis on their "faithful" representation.

The tree drawings of Strutt and Burgess integrated the field practice of the naturalist with picturesque theory as Gilpin's own had not. Their extensive knowledge of the structure and growth of trees acquired through drawing them was probably far greater than that of most contemporary naturalists and botanists until Loudon and Burnett. Their contrasting styles were the result of different priorities. Burgess's drawing style is painterly and atmospheric and for that reason may have appealed more immediately to other painters. Strutt concentrates on the faithful representation of the characters of the trees he portrays and less on "effect". Other artists aimed, as we shall see from the teaching manuals, to achieve something between the two: "truth to nature" through a deep understanding of the trees, combined with a greater freedom of handling. Strutt's work set a standard for other landscape painters and helped to encourage a systematic study of trees since the ability of such drawings to communicate information and extend knowledge was recognised by botanists. Burnett, Loudon, and others brought tree drawing directly into the scientific domain by demonstrating its role in dendrology. 163

CHAPTER FIVE

Naming and Knowing: Botany and Trees

As I have suggested, depictions of whole trees were in demand, with an increasing emphasis on naturalism. The exception to this was botany which, until around 1830, virtually ignored whole trees. Arrangement according to the Linnaean system, in which trees were not distinguished from other plants even by differences in size and longevity, did not assist botanists, field naturalists and others to identify a named plant as a tree nor to recognise tree species and varieties in their growing state. Following the science it served, botanical art (and the teaching of it) concentrated on parts of plants - the flowers and fruit - which provided no methodological or practical models for drawing trees.

I argue that there were two main reasons for the increased interest in living trees and representations of them by British botanists in the late 1820s and 1830s. These were the more general adoption of the natural system and the theories and practice of 'philosophical botany' which spread to Britain from France and Germany and was referred to by one leading botanist as "the true science of plants". Philosophical botany supplied a theoretical element previously lacking in this area of natural history, its aim being to establish the causal connections and laws which govern the plant kingdom. Study of the physiology and morphology of the whole organism formed the basis of philosophical botany just as it did for philosophical anatomy; investigation of the internal structure of organs provided explanations of external form. I

I will show that in this context ancient trees, from being objects of antiquarian interest, became particularly important as examples of plants whose longevity appeared to defy the laws of living organisms. Their taxonomy, structure, habitat and history (in which prints and drawings were valuable) were 164 investigated to account for this phenomenon. But the major changes taking place in botany created a climate in which the study of all trees - and all aspects of them - was relevant. A fully illustrated botanical work on trees was now possible. The botanical arrangement and description of the trees, and the use and number of depictions of whole trees, set Loudon's Arboretum apart from all previous works. While still encompassing many of the concerns of earlier writers in planting, propagation and preservation, the broad botanical knowledge of trees it encompassed, assisted by the visual presentation of the characters of each species, rendered it of great and lasting value to all concerned with trees.

Taxonomy and trees1

Concentration by British botanists on the sexual system of Linnaeus meant that whole trees were virtually ignored. Before the Linnaean system became entrenched in Britain, John Ray had argued for a multi-criterial basis for classification or, since the parts of fructification are not permanent and enduring, for no single structure to be emphasised at the expense of the rest.1 2 Had Ray's primary plant divisions of Arbores, Frutices and Herbae persisted, trees might have been treated differently in botanical works. Ray believed that these divisions "are better made by consideration of the total aspect and condition or by some other notable property. Thus I allow woody substance to serve as an essential mark". He also placed great importance on 'habitus' (which Blumenbach later considered the key to the

1 . in finding my way through the taxonomic maze the following have been particularly helpful: Callot 1965; Foucault 1970; Stafleu 1971; Roger 1980; Mayr 1982; Knight 1981. 2. Sloan 1972 p p . 37 and 45. Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who disapproved of Linnaeus, when plant hunting in England in 1766, used Ray's Synopsis as a handbook (Allen 1976 p. 40). 165 natural system).3 After Bernard de Jussieu, Stafleu says "the characters derived from the vegetative parts were considered at the same level as those of the flower".4 Consideration of such parts, which pertain to growth and development, suggests that the descriptions of trees would include aspects which more obviously distinguish them from other plants. Although the work of Bernard and Antoine-Laurent de Jussieu ensured the firm establishment of the natural system in France, in Britain it became widely accepted only in the 1830s. This was largely due to the efforts of John Lindley, although the first botanical work using the system was Samuel Frederick Gray's (fl. 1780- 1836) A Natural Arrangement of British Plants according to their •relations to each other as pointed out bv Jussieu, de Candolle. Rrnwn. etc. (1821).5 Gray stressed that in the "scientific study" of plants' affinities "their whole organisation must be kept in view" (p. x).

In 1827 Loudon criticised the Linnaean system as defective... it presents a crowd of unconnected images and facts. According to the natural system, the vegetable kingdom is presented as a whole, every part of which, though different from every other, is yet related to the parts with which it comes in contact. The Linnaean system... merely a step to the other.6 Although the declared aim of his Arboretum was to extend the range of trees being planted (Preface, Vol. I p . v), more fundamental purposes were to change attitudes to their

3 . Quoted Sloan op. cit. p. 35. On the importance of "habitus" to Ray and Blumenbach see Sloan 1979 p p . 121 and 129. Some eighteenth-century field naturalists (for instance, Lightfoot and Stillingfleet) were concerned as individuals with plant distribution, as we have seen, but it only became of widespread importance much later, particularly in the work of Humboldt (who was also interested in the appearance of plants and the physiognomy of vegetation). 4. 1971 p. 277. 5. Gray acknowledged the use of Banks's herbarium and library (p. xiii). Although Banks was a great supporter of the Linnaean system, his encouragement of Gray and, of course, Robert Brown (see Gascoigne 1994 pp. 105-106), suggests an open attitude to the natural system. Gray's work was decried by Sir J.E. Smith and Dr. George Shaw and ignored by Lindley (obviously for different reasons) so that it "seldom received due credit". He wrote only the Preface and Introduction; his son J.E. Gray the synoptical part (DNB). 6. GM 1827 Vol. II p. 301. Compare Lindley 1830a p. xvi. Of course Linnaeus recognised this himself. 166 classification further and, in particular, to broaden the basis of botanical knowledge. A whole section of Volume I is devoted to dendrology. Loudon's summary of the mode of description to be followed shows that he considers depictions of whole trees vital in providing clarification and additional information; the three volumes of plates also testify to this. As a practical encyclopaedia for those working with living trees, a simple and reasonably accurate means for their identification was obviously of primary importance. The Arboretum, unlike the earlier TCnrrvclopaedia of Gardening, is arranged entirely according to the natural system, "now so generally preferred by botanists and scientific cultivators before all others", in which objects "most alike in their qualities" are grouped together and "everything that is known respecting the properties, uses or culture" is relevant.7 Thus, for trees and shrubs, "however much the names... may in future be changed, the descriptions... will always be found associated together in the same group, or in groups nearly adjoining", allowing analogies to be made from the known to the unknown. Loudon considers the natural system understandable "to a certain extent" by anyone with the "habit of seeing a great many trees, shrubs and plants" and of grouping them together in the mind - for instance as "broad leaved and fir leaved, deciduous and evergreen, fruit bearing and barren". The natural system of "the most learned botanist" differs from this only in being "founded on principles deduced from facts accumulated by his predecessors and not merely on personal experience". Some knowledge of it would therefore be "of far greater use to the cultivator, medical man, traveller and to the amateur than the most profound knowledge of the Linnaean System" (AFB Vol. I p. 211-212).

Loudon's practical experience as a landscape gardener and designer appears to have predisposed him to be a keen advocate of the natural system. In this respect and in terms of the

7 Compare Lindley's definition: "the affinities of plants may be determined by a consideration of all points of resemblance between their various parts, properties and qualities" (1830a p. xvi). 167

Arboretum's botanical arrangement, a very strong French influence is evident. Two works by Henri Louis Duhamel du Monceau (1700-1782), Traité des Arbres et Arbustes (1755) - the "standard work on French forestry for decades"8 - and La physique des Arbres (1758), were important models for the Arboretum. Duhamel was a member of the Académie Royale des Sciences and the Académie de Marine and of the Royal Societies of London and Edinburgh, an agronomist, naval technologist, forester and botanist. The Traité is reminiscent of Evelyn's Svlva in its concern for planting (including naval requirements) and the uses of timber. It is, however, arranged botanically, the name of each genus given in Latin and French according to Tournefort's nomenclature9 (with Linnaean synonyms).10 A vignette of the flowers and fruit of each genus - "qui en sort les parties vraiments caractéristiques" - accompanies the detailed descriptions and many woodcuts show how the leaves and flowers or fruit are borne on the branches; whole trees appear only once in the first edition, in a drawing of resin-collecting (Vol. I fig- IV). The massive, seven-volume edition of 1801- 1819, fully illustrated by Redouté and 'P. Bessa', contains representations of a few whole trees, for instance two palms (Vol. IV) of which that by Redouté is drawn from nature (a tree growing in St. Tropez), and an oak, Quercus fastigiata, by Bessa (vol. VII) .

Duhamel writes not only for botanists but to make the trees and shrubs known to landowners, gardeners and others,-11 he remarks on culture, size and characteristic shape, as well as uses, for each species (for example, The Oaks),12 He comments that while Linnaeus combined "les Sapins, les Méleses et les Pins" of M. de Tournefort in one genus (Pin) because of their resemblance in the parts of fructification, he has separated them to avoid

8. Stafleu 1971 p. 281. 9 . Used in the Jardin du Roi until 1774 when de Jussieu introduced Linnaean binomial nomenclature (Stafleu ibid. p. 281). 10. 1755 Preface Vol. I p p . i-vii. 11. Ibid. Vol. I p. ix. 12. Ibid. Vol. II pp. 201-209. 168 confusion for those with practical experience of their differences.13 As a practical botanist, Loudon would have appreciated the combination of the practical and the botanical, and he shared Duhamel1s concern for the over-proliferation of species and botanists' arbitrary distinctions between species and varieties.14 His own arrangement in the Arboretum should be approved by "all practical botanists who have had an opportunity of making similar observations" (Vol. I p. 217). The small symbols for each genus (Figs. 73 and 74), to aid recognition of whole trees, appear to be modelled on Duhamel's vignettes. The alphabetical arrangement chosen by Duhamel (and all earlier writers on trees) does not, however, find favour with Loudon who believes that "any work having pretensions to be scientific" should avoid this, an index being sufficient (Vol. I p. 211). In fact Duhamel was aware of the practical difficulties of using such an arrangement and for this reason had begun the Traité with "Tables Méthodiques" giving the most obvious characters to allow those lacking knowledge of names to identify a tree by looking at it.15

The word "practical" is used by Loudon and others to distinguish a field worker (for instance, a gardener, horticulturist or field botanist), for whom he (and Duhamel) provided assistance, from a closet botanist. The Linnaean system had, of course, also proved immensely 'practical' in allowing efficient classification and even naming of huge numbers of plants, but was less useful for the field worker. Although we have seen that many of those writing about trees were Fellows of the Linnean Society, members interested in fieldwork were probably in the minority. David Allen has pointed out that field studies were not part of its official activities on its foundation in 1788, although a Club for excursions (with an exclusive membership) was formed around 1798.16

1 3 . Ibid. Vol. I pp. vii-viii 1 4 . 1758. Vol. I pp. xxxvii-xxxix. 15. Ibid. p. xxxv. 16. 1986 p. 4. See also Barber 1980 on closet and field naturalists and the low status of field studies (pp. 40-43). 169

In the Arboretum Loudon attempts to broaden the botanical understanding of trees; the emphasis throughout is on living trees and on comprehensive knowledge of the whole plant. In 1828 he had declared: To know anything does not consist in having merely seen it, or in recollecting its name; no naturalist can be said to know a plant unless he knows its rank in the vegetable kingdom, its structure, habits of growth, the climate and countries in which it abounds, its history in its wild state and domestic history... its culture, properties and uses.17 His holistic perspective should not give the impression that he was a maverick, or, indeed, isolated among naturalists. In fact he was a major participant in the movement to change the modus operandi of botany in Britain - to influence botanists to abandon their concentration on taxonomy in favour of a more 'philosophic' approach.18 The leaders of this movement included two botanists mentioned frequently by Loudon, John Lindley and Gilbert Burnett, Professors of Botany at University College and King's College (appointed 1829 and 1831 respectively).19 All three were Fellows of the Linnean Society and Lindley and Burnett were both Secretaries of the Natural History Committee for the 1833 Cambridge meeting of the BAAS.20 Loudon employed Lindley as a young man (although his reputation as a botanist was already established)21 and followed Lindley's botanical arrangement (and that of de Candolle) in the Arboretum. Loudon's review of Burnett's book suggests they also were acquainted.22 I will endeavor to indicate how this movement, and the adoption of the natural system, affected the study of trees.

1 7 . MNH Vol. I 1828 p. 1. 18 see Stafleu 1971: "Practical need had temporarily drowned the voices of those who were more philosophical" (p. 292); and Knight (1981 p. 78). 19. David Allen comments on the "peculiarly lively teaching of botany" at the universities, but omits Lindley and Burnett (1986 pp. 5-6) . 20 British Association Report 1834. On the position of natural history within the BAAS see Morrell and Thackray 1981 p p . 269 and 451. 21 To write the descriptions for Loudon's popular Encyclopaedia of Gardening (1822) ; he later named a shrub after Loudon as a tribute to the "eminent services rendered to Horticultural Botany" (Gloag 1970 pp. 56-68). 22 He described Burnett as "a man of profound and general views; acute, philosophical, without partiality or prejudice; perfectly independent and a friend of human nature" (GM Vol. XI 1835 p. 592). 170

Philosophical botany; the true science of plants

Philip Rehbock identified 1830-1860 as the years of »philosophical natural history" in Britain, tracing its source to the effects of Kantian Idealism on the Naturphilosophen and Goethe in Germany, on Etienne Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire in France and on Coleridge and his followers in England. Rehbock says "the term 'philosophical' was nowhere explicitly defined" but "stood for an attitude, an approach to the study of natural history... its goal the establishment of the laws of the living world".23 Toby Appel, writing on the Cuvier-Geoffroy debate, argued that while the British drew on both French and German ideas, the genesis of Geoffroy's philosophical anatomy, particularly his concept of unity of plan, occurred independently of German influence; "the most direct and immediate stimulus to philosophical anatomy was... in the writings of Buffon, Daubenton and Vicq d'Azyr. . . . It was assumed that philosophical anatomy revealed a larger purpose by enabling the naturalist to grasp the laws of organisation, to uncover unity in diversity and to discern more accurately the unique natural system of creation.24

Adrian Desmond extended the discussion with his analysis of the two strands of philosophical natural history in Britain - the Kantian Idealist and the Geoffroyian - the latter being "far more influential in the 1830s than had previously been realised".25 These strands polarised around rival teaching institutions in London. The radical nonconformists at University College (University of London) adopted Geoffroy's controversial theories, while at King's College natural theology and Kantian idealism dictated a more traditional approach, and Cuvierian comparative anatomy, which did not challenge creationist views, was taught.

23. 1983 pp. 6-7. 24 1987 p p . 90 and 223. On Geoffroy and Goethe see especially p. 159; on the effect of Geoffroy's ideas in Britain see p p . 222-232. 25. 1989 (especially p. 9). 171

Botany, however, is not discussed by either Rehbock or Desmond as part of philosophical natural history, and this is surprising particularly as the first Professors of Botany at these colleges were both actively importing the new ideas from France. While Appel mentions French botany only briefly, she makes the pertinent comment that the great Swiss botanist Augustin-Pyramus de Candolle (1788-1841), who studied and worked in Paris before being appointed to the Chair of Botany at Montpelier, founded a school of philosophical botany parallel to that of Geoffroy's philosophical anatomy.26 British botanical texts of the late 1820s and 1830s reveal that de Candolle's theories and their application in his published works were the most significant models for the changes occurring in British botany.27 Although (as in France) philosophical botany was less controversial than its anatomical counterpart,28 its effects were far-reaching.

According to Appel, French philosophical botany was subservient to the task of establishing the natural system, in which endeavour it came to be used as a tool.29 In 1813 de Candolle claimed that the long-existing separation between those occupying themselves with botany "proprement dit" and vegetable physics (or the study of organs) had contributed to holding back the progress of these two studies; while nomenclature is vital, the natural method "qui seule est la science", depends on the

26 1987 p. 93. See Pickstone 1994 on the interaction between different knowledge practices at the Museum d'Histoire Naturelle, and particularly the impact of Cuvier's comparative anatomy and Geoffroy's morphology on de Candolle (p. 128) . De Candolle collaborated with Lamarck on Flore Françoise (1779) (Jordanova 1984 p. 19); echoes of Lamarck's ideas, as discussed in Jordanova's biography, resonate in his work. 27 His principal works were Théorie Eléméntaire de la Botanique (1813), translated into German 1814-15 and into English from the German in 1821; pyndromua Svatematis Naturalis Reqni Vegetabilis (1824-39) 17 vols.; nrganoaranhie Végétale (1827), translated into German 1828 and into English 1939-40 (Stafleu and Cowan 1981 Vol. I p. 450). The latter sets out his theories in full. See Stevens 1984 on their importance to both botanists and zoologists (p. 51ff. ). See Rehbock on Lyell's indebtedness to de Candolle's 'Géographie Botanique' Dictionnaire des Sciences Naturelles (1820) (1983 p. 124) . 28. Appel op. cit. p. 96. 29. 1987 p. 96. See also p p . 204 and 219. 172 study of organs.30 Most British botanical texts around 1830 begin with a long section promoting the natural system, but philosophical botany began to provide the theoretical support which had previously been lacking, facilitating discussion of causes and generalisations. Physiology and morphology brought botany into the dissecting room, but the natural system also emphasised the study of living collections so that a closer link was forged between fieldwork amd dissection, particularly as knowledge of internal structure improved understanding of external form. In Britain the change to the natural system and the new philosophical approach appear to have gone hand-in-hand.

As a young man John Lindley FRS, FLS (1799-1865) "became an accomplished field botanist and learned much of practical horticulture".31 In 1819 he began working for Banks as assistant to Robert Brown (1773-1858) "the leading representative of botany in England".32 Brown's contribution to the adoption of the natural system was crucial. He was revered in Germany, especially by Goethe and Humboldt,33 and by de Candolle (who met him and Lindley in 1816)34 and others in France; he was appointed a Foreign Associate of the Académie des Sciences in 1831. His papers contain "profound observations on morphology, embryology and plant geography"35 and he was clearly perceived as a philosophical botanist.36 However it was Lindley who reached a wide audience,- there has been comparatively little analysis of Lindley's large oeuvre considering its importance in

30. 1813 PP- 24, 34, 58. See also 1827 Vol. II p. 240. He appears to exaggerate his case to make a point since the influence of Tournefort and the de Jussieus had persisted in France, enabling Duhamel, in the 1750s, to publish works on trees intended for both botanists and practical fieldworkers. De Candolle points out - as do Burnett and Lindley later - that the natural system had also been the goal for Linnaeus (1813 p. 60). 31 . Keeble 1913 p. 167. His father was a nurseryman. 32. Green 1914 p. 319. On Brown see Mabberley 1985. 33. Morton 1981 p. 344; Vallence 1990 p. 56. 24 Alphonse de Candolle 1862 p p . 226-272. 35. DSB Vol. IV p. 516. It is stated here that Brown had no contact with students and refused professorships. 36. See Mabberley op. cit. p p . 397-398. 173 popularising the natural system - and his status throughout Europe.37

Burnett is even less known. He is omitted from discussions of the rivalry between the two Colleges38 and biographical dictionaries give only scant information, suggesting that his early death cast him into oblivion. While Lindley's practice generally supports Desmond's views on the reasons for the rivalry between the teaching establishments,39 Burnett's does not. It is clear from his published writings (1829-1835) that he was aware of and embraced many of the new ideas emerging from the continent, and his attempt to construct a simplified version of William Sharp MacLeay's Quinary System (based on three circles) indicates that he was not a conventional thinker.40 In addition, his attitude to natural theology is distinctly half hearted. Although his two printed King's College lectures contain such phrases as "the progressive scale of creation" and a long sentence on God and the Creation,41 if we compare these with, for instance, the rhetoric in Peter Roget's Animal and vegetable Physiology Considered with Reference to Natural Theology (1834), they reveal no deep conviction; on the other hand, de Candolle's theories pervade his writings. Burnett's immediate successor, David Don, began his first course by discussing "organography... the foundation of science", and

37. Green op. cit. p. 345. Green says Lindley was an ardent advocate of the new reforms (p. 318). 38. Desmond 1989, Cardwell 1957 p p . 33-35. But he is mentioned by Hays 1983 pp. 100 and 106. 3 9 . Although Green (op. cit. p. 336) states that Lindley concentrated on physiology, this remark seems to be based on his early work. See Lindley 1830b and 1832 on morphology and metamorphosis; in the former he recommends de Candolle's Organographie Végétale (1830b pp. v-vii). 40. He suggests this would resolve confusions in classification among zoologists from Ray and Linnaeus to Blumenbach, Lamarck, Cuvier, Geoffroy and "those curious interalliances to be found in every grade of physical existence" (QJ 1830 p p . 355-361 and 368-373). Three circles were preferred by William Swainson in his version (1834). On MacLeay as a "major figure in systematics" and the links between his work and de Candolle's, see Stevens 1984 p. 73, and Winsor 1976 p p . 81-87. See also Knight 1981 on MacLeay, Swainson and the Quinary System pp. 93-106. 41. 1832a pp. 5-6; 1832b p. 2. 174

"morphology or the transmutation of organs",42 suggesting similar models. It seems that it was not until the Tory idealist, Edward Forbes, took over in 1842 that botany followed the general trend at King's described by Desmond. Burnett held his Chair for four years without any apparent problems43 - a further indication, perhaps, of the less controversial nature of philosophical botany.

It is worth noting here that Loudon, as editor of the Magazine of Natural History and Journal of Zoology. Botany. Mineralogy. Geology and Meteorology, to give it its full title, expected his readers to be interested in major new theories from abroad.44 The first volume (1828) included an article on the 'Cuvierian System of Zoology'; the reviewer of Geoffroy's Cours de 1 'Histoire Naturelle des Mammifères (1829 Vol. Ill) said that while his theory of uniform type "seems to have been not the offspring of observation but the child of fancy, " the book is "in the highest degree interesting... full of original views... and the subjects altogether are discussed in a manner which we regret to add, we have no example in the English language". Another work by Geoffroy, Histoire Générale et Particulière des Anomalies de l'Organisation chez l'Homme et les Animaux received strong approval in 1833: "it is not too much to say that this author has effected in teratology what Linnaeus did in other branches of natural history".45 Several volumes contain notices of foreign works (or translations of them) as well as those by British authors such as Grant, Lyell and Swainson and letters from Professors Henslow and Rennie (Professors of Botany, Cambridge and of Natural History, King's College).

42. 1836 pp. i and xxii. 43. Hearnshaw says that had Charles Lyell not terminated his appointment as Professor of Geology after two years he would probably have been asked to leave, as his views progressively diverged from natural theology (1929 p. 91). 44. It will be remembered that he knew French and German. 45. Cuvier: by "B" (Vol. I p p . 97-106 and 309-319, concluded Vol. II p p . 128- 133); Geoffroy by "N" (Vol. Ill p p . 420-423) and by "JJ" (Vol. VI p p . 430- 431). Appel says that problems caused by exceptions were really first dealt with satisfactorily by de Candolle (1987 p. 96). See also Burnett (1832 pp. 21 - 2 2 ) . 175

Desmond described the important role at University College of Scottish medical graduates who studied in Paris and brought the new ideas to London, particularly Robert Grant (1793-1874), appointed Professor of Comparative Anatomy in 1827, who "effectively introduced philosophical anatomy into London".46 He also pointed out that in Britain comparative anatomy was taught in the context of medicine rather than zoology as in France,-47 since general and medical botany were also taught in the medical schools, botanists could have become aware of the radical ideas affecting anatomy. This was clearly the case with Burnett, who trained as a surgeon as well as studying medical botany. He qualified as an apothecary in 1824 and became a member of the Royal College of Surgeons in 1825.48 He would have studied anatomy, and Cuvier's comparative approach also appears to have been an important influence on his practice.49

Becoming "one of the more marked younger men",50 Burnett commenced lecturing in medical and general botany at the private anatomy school in Great Windmill Street founded by William Hunter, and at St George's Hospital.51 He was made a Fellow of the Linnean Society in 1824.52 His lectures at the Royal Institution - between 1829 and 1833 he delivered four of the Friday evening conversazioni53 and three courses on botany - made him more widely known, and he was elected a member in

46. 1989 p. 24. Grant's Comparative Anatomy appeared in 1834 but Lindley had a^reacjy published books based on de Candolle's philosophical botany. 47. 1985 p. 155. 48 _ & List of Persons who have obtained certificates of their fitness and qualifications to practise as Apothecaries 1815-1840 (1840) ; List of Members 0 f t-he Roval College of Surgeons in London 1825 p. 18. 49. Mayr 1982 comments that the comparative approach "formed a bridge between the naturalists and the anatomist-physiologists" which was strengthened by Cuvier's emphasis on function (p. 112). 50. Green op. cit. pp. 362-364. 51. Burnett's obituary "from an authentic source" contains the fullest account of his life; he was a descendant of Thomas Burnet (ABO Vol. XX 1836 pp. 264- 273) . 52. 21 February 1832 (Records of the Linnean Society). 53_ gee Hays 1983 on the status of these conversazioni and the importance of visual display (pp. 104-106). 176

1829.54 Burnett held three chairs of botany: to the Medico- Botanical Society;55 to the newly founded King's College, where he delivered the inaugural lecture on 11 October 1831;56 and in 1835 to the Society of Apothecaries. He published various letters and articles in the Quarterly Journal of Science, T.i teratnre and the Arts. His Outlines of Botany Arranged According to the System of Natural Affinities, a "practical guide chiefly for the use of students" (p. iii), appeared in 1835 and was well received in England and France.57 He edited the Medical and Physical Journal and Stephenson's and Churchill's Medical Botany (1834), whose sources include de Candolle, Duhamel, Geoffroy, Humboldt, Lamarck, Latreille, Linnaeus and Tournefort,58 His long essay on oaks, Amoenitates Querneae (1827), and his articles, demonstrate an unusual interest in trees by a classificatory botanist, although understandable in the context of philosophical botany.

The inaugural lectures of these two professors, delivered in 1829 and 1831, stress causes and generalisations, indicating that natural history was adopting the principles of the senior branches of science.59 Lindley declares his aim "to found a

54. Proposed by Michael Faraday, among others (Minutes of the Managers 1828- 1929). Frank James has pointed out to me that this is not necessarily significant; however, both Faraday and Burnett conducted experiments to ascertain the properties and age of wood. 55. Elected 17 January 1831 (Minutes 1831 p. 499). On the founding and role of this society see Hill 19S2 p p . 262-266. 56. Hearnshaw, in his history of the College, says he had a reputation as an enthusiastic teacher but that Charles Lyell was the most popular lecturer; they each received £100 p.a. (p. 92). The professors were heavily overworked - as part of the medical course Burnett lectured at 8 a.m. every day except Sunday for six weeks (1929 p p . 100-107). 5 7 . ABO op. cit. p. 270 It was recommended by Loudon "not only to cultivate the intellect, but to be of practical use to the botanist, the gardener, the medical man and the naturalist generally... although the arrangement is in a manner peculiar to himself and not likely to be adopted in practice" (GM Vol. XI Aug. 1835. p. 592). 58. 'List of books referred to' (six pages at the end of Vol. III). 5 9 . Rehbock comments on the breakdown of the distinction between natural philosophy and natural history (1983 p. 7). See also Mayr: "Eventually the question was asked: 'does such purely descriptive activity qualify as science when it does not include a search for laws nor any endeavour to reach generalisations?'" (1982 p. 142). 177

School of Botany in London worthy of being associated with those of Medicine, Zoology and Natural Philosophy... taught upon philosophical principles not merely empirical", the objects of botany being to determine the structure, both external and internal, of vegetable bodies and the laws under which they live and grow and propagate; to acquire the power of distinguishing with precision one from another.®0 In spite of the Linnaean system having eclipsed Tournefort's on which the "modern arrangement according to natural orders" was founded, Linnaeus took the first step in establishing botany on »sound philosophical principles"; the second was taken by Antoine-Laurent de Jussieu (referred to by Agnes Ibbetson in 1811 as "one of the first of philosophic botanists").60 61 62 De Jussieu was improved upon by others, including in particular Richard, de Candolle and Brown. However, Lindley accuses the Linnaean system of having rendered botany "a mere science of names" and of "paralysing the labours of those who have adopted it„_62 ( m 1788 Gilbert White had recognised this danger - and its remedy - when he wrote that botany "shouldn't be content with names... should study plants philosophically... should investigate the laws of vegetation".)63 The French, Lindley said, "understood that a system of classification was not the great end of science... physiological considerations should not be excluded from the basis of arrangement of plants".64

Burnett is also critical of the "exclusive dedication of the mind" to one branch of botany and welcomes the present "more liberal and expanded sphere of exertion". Since philosophy is "abstract as well as experimental, intellectual as well as physical", his endeavour will be to make botany a part of general philosophy and shew that this science does not consist in the mere knowledge of names and systems,

60. 30 April 1829. p p . 14 and 4. 61> Micholson's Journal 1811. Vol. XXVIII p. 100. I am grateful to Ann Shteir for this information. 62. 1829 pp. 10 and 15. 63. Natural History of Selborne Letter 82 (2 June 1778) White frequently quotes Ray and Linnaeus. 64. 1829 pp. 8-15. See also Burnett 1832a p. 36. 178

in the bare ability of deciding on the identity of a species, but also in the equally if not more important study of the general laws which regulate the evolution of their organs and determine their properties and powers; as well as the more general connexions of all the sciences with each other.65 In his 'Introductory Lecture to the Second Course' Burnett is more specific: philosophic botany, or the true science of plants, consists not merely either of an account of their structure and their functions or in a detail of their names, their character and their arrangement, or in a history of their habitudes and uses, but comprises all. When the anatomy, physiology, chemistry, geography, geology, arrangements, habits, uses, etc., of plants are conjunctively studied, they will become the several objects of universal botany and the various pursuits of the philosophic botanist.66

Apart from strong recommendations in favour of the natural system, two further priorities are discernible in these quotations, which are also significant for the study of trees: an emphasis on plants as living organisms, and an insistence that generalisations must be derived from an understanding of the growth and the internal and external structure of the whole plant and not just one part. In France, interest in living animals and their life histories was roused by the publication of Buffon's Histoire Naturelle (1749-1805) which "was read by practically every educated European" and "had a tremendous impact on natural history studies....".67 Buffon was Lamarck's patron and Lamarck worked briefly with de Candolle and influenced Geoffroy,68 who also studied living animals. Antoine- Laurent de Jussieu worked from living plants in public collections, private gardens and arboreta for his Genera

p i antarum (1789),69 In Britain, however, only field naturalists

65. 11 October 1831 (1832a p p . 36-37). 66. 14 March 1832 p p . 6-8. 67. Mayr op. cit. p. 101. See also Stafleu on life as a phenomenon in time and space and the influence of Buffon and Diderot (op. cit. p p . 302-303). 68. Jordanova op. cit. pp. 4 and 19. 69. Stafleu op. cit. p. 325. Cuvier was an exception. Although his Preface to the nictionnaire des Sciences Naturelles (1816-1829) warns of the danger of naturalists retiring into their cabinets (p. vi), Outram says he abandoned field natural history after 1795 and was criticised for never having "seen alive, or young, most of the animals he examined" (1984 p. 182) . 179 and medical botanists had shown any real concern for living plants. David Allen says that the Society of Apothecaries' Demonstrators at the Chelsea Physic Garden were expected to "take out the apprentices and make them familiar with herbs in the wild".70 Burnett was a Demonstrator before becoming the Society's Professor but his botanising commenced much earlier and probably led to his interest in trees; his King's course included "herborizing excursions and demonstrations" to provide "practical application of the special and general principles, the theories or philosophic views".71

At Great Windmill Street Burnett had taught: "philosophy of organisation, with the comparative anatomy and physiology of vegetables", their classification and "their properties and productions, both medicinal and economical".72 Duhamel, who described himself as a disciple of Bernard de Jussieu, had in the 1750s considered trees "comme les corps organisés", emphasising the need to study the anatomy of all their parts and to understand the relationship between their physiology, culture and uses.73 Richard Burkhardt says that from the late eighteenth century organisation distinguished living from inanimate things; the difference between organic and inorganic was considered more fundamental than the animal/vegetable distinction. It was the key to the natural order of classification for [A-L] de Jussieu, Cuvier and Lamarck, while for de Candolle it held things together and "corresponded to a morphological type concept".74 De Candolle and Lindley also gave priority to this opposition,

70. 1993 P- 338. See also Allen 1986 pp. 7-9. 71. 1832a p. 35. Burnett's immediate successors at King's also conducted excursions (see Don 1836 p. i). Don's father ran the Edinburgh Botanic Garden and his start in horticulture is reminiscent of Lindley's early career (Gage and Stearn 1988 p. 29). Forbes was educated in Edinburgh, where this practical approach was followed; he also published important work on plant distribution (Bennett 1855 p. 10; Balfour 1913 especially pp. 292-294; Browne 1978 p. 22). On field studies in the universities see Allen 1986 pp. 107-109. 72. ABO 1836 pp. 265-6 (no date is given). 73. 1758 pp. xliv and xiii-xv. 7 4 . 1981 p. 310; see also Roger 1980 p. 270. On Cuvier and Lamarck see Outram 1976 pp. 101-137), Jordanova 1986 p p . 40-41; Wardlaw 1965 especially p. 1. On de Candolle see Stevens 1984 p. 72. 180 stressing anatomical differences and the superiority of the internal organisation of plants over external characters (the traditional focus of natural history) for their classification.75 vipldwork: the species problem

Field experience appears to have been a factor - perhaps a crucial one - in influencing botanists to adopt the natural system. Comparison of external characters was a very important aspect of demonstrations and all fieldwork and this is evident in, for instance, Brown's comparative work on Australian plants,76 Burnett's herborizing, the early practical horticultural pursuits of Lindley, Don and Loudon.77 Lindley's long association with the Horticultural Society included laying out their garden at Chiswick, which, with the fields and rivers around London, he urged his students to use, since the University lacked a botanical garden; he also stressed the inseparability of botany and horticulture and its relevance to agriculture, both requiring knowledge of species and plant physiology.78 On his appointment as Professor of Botany to the Society of Apothecaries in 1835, he reorganised their Physic Garden, fully establishing the natural system by 1846.79

75. Lindley 1829 p p . 3-4, 1830a p p . xii-xvii; Burnett 1832a p p . 6-12. Compare de Candolle 1813 pp. 3 and 11 ff. 76. Although Brown's 'General Remarks, Geographical and Systematical on the Botany of Terra Australis' (1866 Vol. I p p . 3-89) emphasises the number of species collected on the 1805 voyage, his own observations of specific sites, especially for trees, are clearly very important for the inferences he draws. His comment that native inhabitants can more readily distinguish between the various species of eucalyptus than botanists "from the colour, texture and scaling of the bark and in the ramification and general appearance" (p. 18) highlights the difficulty of classifying trees if such external characters of the living plants are ignored. 7 7 . S.F. Gray's work as a pharmaceutical chemist and his lectures on de Jussieu'3 system (with his son J.E. Gray) at the Sloane Street Botanical Garden and at various medical schools (DNB) suggests that he could be included in this group. 78. 1829 p. 25; p p . 21-22. 79. Green op. cit. p. 362. 181

Field naturalists and practical botanists were mainly concerned with species80 and as Lindley states, classifying species according to affinities is "the foundation of the Natural System... only botanists have deviated from this in recent times of all branches of natural history" (1830a p. xi). In fact the proliferation of species had reached unmanageable proportions, as Loudon's comment on "the present state of confusion and uncertainty in the names and characters of trees and shrubs" indicates (AFB Vol. I p. 219). He points out that references and descriptions by travellers are useless to botanists if it is impossible to tell which plant is being discussed; nurseries also apply different names to the same trees and disagree between species and varieties. He aims to remedy this "evil" (Vol. I pp- 211 and 213).

Loudon quotes Lindley on the differences between "aboriginal" (or "natural") species, understood "by experience", and "botanical" species, "depending only upon the external characters of the plant". Whereas few of the former are known, "nearly the whole of systematic botany", deals with the latter, defined by Lindley as a union of individuals agreeing with each other in all essential characters of vegetation and fructification, capable of reproducing by seed without change, breeding freely together and producing perfect seed, from which a fertile progeny can be reared.81 Lindley's definition, it will be noted, does not rely solely on the reproductive parts; Loudon, however, considers the phrase "capable of reproducing by seed without change... requires some modification". He argues, for instance, that "in an oakwood no two individuals are exactly alike, either in foliage, flower, fruit or mode of growth, or even in the earliness or lateness of budding, flowering, ripening the fruit or dropping the leaves" (AFB Vol. I p. 213). Such details would generally have been

80. Mayr: "the species gradually became the unit of observation of the local naturalist" in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries (1982. p. 286). Knight says for Lindley there were really in nature no groupings higher than a species (1981 p. 119). See Stevens 1992 on the species problem. 81. 1832 p. 365 (Quoted AFB Vol. I p. 214). 182 noticed by field naturalists and practical botanists. Loudon also draws extensively on Burnett's observations of oak species (including ancient oaks) in Amoenitates Ouerneae which he considered "not so well known as it deserves to be".82 The crux of the species problem, which, since Locke83 and Linnaeus had proved so intractable, is expressed by Lindley: The whole question lies with the word essential. What is an essential character of a species? This will generally depend upon a proneness to vary or to be constant in particular characters, so that one class of characters may be essential in one genus, another class in another genus; and these points can only be determined by experience.... The determination of species is, therefore, in all respects, arbitrary, and must depend upon the discretion or experience of the botanist. Decided differences in the forms of leaves, in the figure of the stem, in the surface of the different parts, in the inflorescence, in the proportion of the parts, or in the form of the sepals and petals, usually constitute good specific differences.84 It is presumably the arbitrary element which led to what Loudon calls the "disposition of botanists... to multiply species rather than diminish their number" (AFB Vol. I p. 212) and he urges their reduction in order to concentrate on "aboriginal" species (AFB Vol. I pp. 216-217).85 Loudon considers de Candolle to be clearer than Lindley in this matter. De Candolle defines aboriginal species as individuals which bear a sufficient degree of resemblance to each other... to induce us to believe that they might have originated from one being or pair of beings. The degree of resemblance which authorises us to unite individuals under the denomination of species varies much in different families.86 These resemblances can be understood, Loudon believes, from long periods of observing trees but "may not be easy to define... in such a manner as to render it observable to any one who had not seen a great number of varieties". Thus, "all the elms of Europe... may be reduced to only three species; and we much

82. AFB Vol• Ill p. 1722. 83. Locke argued in An Essay on Human Understanding 1689 that the essences of things are wholly unknown (Fontana edition 1964 p. 270). On Locke's influence on Ray and Buffon see also Sloan 1972. 84. 1832 pp. 366-367. Quoted p . 214. 85. This places Loudon among the "lumpers" rather than the "splitters" (for whom "no differences should be neglected" when identifying species) (Knight 1981 p. 65). See also Hankins 1985. p p . 145-151. 86. 1832 Vol. II p. 689 (quoted AFB Vol. I p. 215). 183 question if, on de Candolle's principle of determining what a species is, there would be more than a tithe of the names which are ranked as such under Salix, Quercus, etc". Following de Candolle rather than Lindley "and other British botanists", therefore, he will endeavour "to show that many of our botanical species are only varieties". This will aid "judicial selection" and prevent beginners "from puzzling themselves unnecessarily to make out the minute differences" distinguishing botanical species. Specific characters, except in aboriginal species, are insufficiently distinct and it requires "lengthened descriptions" to identify them. This problem has "deterred numbers from the study of practical botany" and from forming collections (AFB Vol. I p p . 215-218).

"Little faith is to be placed in botanical descriptions drawn up from dried specimens of any kind," Loudon declares, but the problem is compounded with trees and shrubs, which "from the long period... they require to attain maturity, naturally assume very different appearances under different circumstances" and therefore "require to be studied, not only in the same locality but in different localities for a number of years, before any decided opinion can be pronounced respecting which are species and which are varieties". Since changes occur in cultivation the "aboriginal nature of trees and shrubs can only be ascertained in their wild state". If we had not.had an opportunity of observing, for several years past, the collections of trees and shrubs in the neighbourhood of London, and of studying them at every season of the year, with a view to the production of this work, we should never have been able to arrive at these principles, or to adopt them from others, with any degree of satisfaction to our own minds. We are, however, perfectly satisfied that we are in the right path; and we feel convinced that all practical botanists who have had an opportunity of making similar observations, and who have made them, will approve of our arrangement (AFB Vol. I pp. 217-218) .

Throughout the Arboretum Loudon urges the use of botanical gardens and the establishment of more arboretums, stressing the importance of the observation and comparison of living trees in the various stages of their life cycles. 184

Physiology and morphology

Lindley asserts that for the higher taxa, there are "no uncertainties or difficulties as some botanists claim. The characters of the classes and orders of the Natural System are not more subject to exceptions than those of Linnaeus".87 The laws of plant structure and growth, as originally discussed by de Candolle, are considered at length by Burnett and Lindley in their lectures and publications. The latter took longer to adopt de Candolle's morphology, but this model, and perhaps Goethe's, is apparent in the syllabus for Burnett's "usual hospital course"88 which comprised 'Organic Botany, or Vegetable Physics' (internal and external anatomy, phytochymics, physiology and natural history), 'Systematic Botany'; and 'Economic Botany'. Each heading is elaborated, for instance: physiology dealt with "the organs of nutrition, extension and reproduction; phenomena of growth and increase; metamorphosis regular and irregular, transitional and vicarious"; natural history comprised "habitats, migrations; fossil botany; effects of soil, climate, culture, disease, decay and death, physical importance of these changes, their results". Economic botany included medical botany, uses and culture "as affecting the perfect evolution of the vegetable body and the full development of its peculiar powers".89 Several of these headings are particularly important for the study of living trees.

Although Lindley refers readers of An Outline of the First principles of Botany (183 0) to de Candolle's Organographie végétale, his most obviously philosophical work is An Tntroduction to Botany (1832)90 which followed the method of de Candolle, "than whom no man is entitled to more deference". "Descriptive botany," Lindley declares, "can have no logical

87. 1830a p. xiii. 88. ABO PP. 267-269. 89. Burnett spoke at the Royal Institution on "Vegetable Metamorphosis" on 30 January 1830. 90. See also his report to the 1833 Cambridge meeting of the BAAS (published 1834) . 185 precision without the principles of organography being first exactly settled" (pp. vii-viii). He likens plant morphology to comparative anatomy, calling it by far the most important branch of study after elementary anatomy and vegetable physiology. Organography is in all respects an exposition of the doctrines of morphology. Unknown before the time of Linnaeus and first placed in its true light by the poet Goethe, it lay neglected for nearly thirty years... until revived by Dupetit Thouars, de Candolle, Brown and others, it has come to be considered the basis of all scientific knowledge of vegetable structure (pp. xx-xi). He also discusses metamorphosis, and quotes from Goethe's versuch über die Metamorphose der Pflanzen (1790), in terms very similar to those used by Burnett. "Irregular metamorphosis", for instance, results in "endless varieties of form in garden plants due to alterations in the structure of the plant which manifest by external characters" (1832 pp. 505-526) . In the Arboretum Loudon also includes metamorphosis as a heading under "General Descriptions" in the "particulars to be taken into consideration.... in giving the specific character, description, history and uses of trees and shrubs"; he appears to have read both Goethe and de Candolle on the subject (Vol. I pp. 222- 225) .91 Lindley's comment is particularly interesting because it clearly results from his field experience. It indicates the extent to which field study and organography were interrelated in philosophical botany, the latter providing explanations for external forms and their modifications.92

It will be evident that the emphasis in the natural system on the whole, living plant created a situation in which the type of dendrology which took account of whole trees could flourish. In amnenitates Ouerneae Burnett criticised "the mere botanist" for

91. On Goethe's influence on botanists see Morton 1981 p p . 343-346. 92. Foucault comments: "From de Jussieu... the transformation of structure into character, was to be based upon a principle alien to the domain of the visible - an internal principle... the principle of organic structure.... The most important characters may be the most hidden... to classify therefore means relating the visible to the invisible, to its deeper cause. Character resumes its former role as a visible sign directing us towards a buried depth; it indicates... the coherent totality of an organic structure" (1970 p p . 226- 229) . 186 concentrating on a specimen torn from a tree and "neglecting the higher and more philosophic task of contemplating the stupendous grandeur of the whole".93 Focus on the whole plant also rendered drawings from nature valuable because dried specimens of whole trees could not be gathered as with other plants. Lindley stated in 1830 that consideration of affinities constitutes the basis of the natural system, that "the properties or structure of an imperfectly known plant can be determined by those of another which is well-known" but that "natural combinations of orders must be founded upon internal anatomical differences" (1830a p. xvii). He points out two visible distinctions - "the two most obvious peculiarities of the vegetable kingdom" - that flower bearing plants have spiral vessels (Vasculares) while those without flowers do not (Cellulares), also that the number of cotyledons is "a most important means of distinguishing great natural divisions... in line with anatomical structure" (pp. xiii and xx); other important divisions based on anatomical difference are Exogens and Endogens (external or internal seat of growth) and Gymnosperms and Angiosperms (having exposed and covered seeds) (p. xvii). Lindley's descriptions of the Oak and Fir Tribes indicate that the former are dicotyledonous and belong to the division Angiosperms, while the latter are Gymnosperms.94

T h e study of ancient trees

De Candolle's Organographie Vegetale contains a long analysis (with drawn sections) of the stem, "one of the fundamental organs" because, with the root and leaves, it nourishes the plant (1827 Vol. I pp. 142-235). Various experiments by Duhamel and others on the growth of annual rings in trees are considered

93. 1827 p. 4. 94. Green comments that although Lindley's "mode of grouping the orders together on the grounds of affinity was faulty, his descriptions of the orders were complete, even exhaustive, and his discussion of their relationships and his grouping of them into alliances was distinctly valuable" (1914 p. 351). 187

(p. 146) . De Candolle also mentions "the extraordinary age" which the Baobabs (Adansonia digitata) can attain, "this longevity... surpasses by far the duration that one would suppose possible for any organised being" (p. 193). Lamarck had earlier commented on the contrast between the leaves of trees, which live for a year, and the trunk which "persisted and did not age in the way most other living things did".95 The growth of Endogens and Exogens receive Lindley's particular attention in another book published in 1830 during consideration of the stem and the function of its various parts (1830b pp. 12-27). He notes that there are "no assignable limits to the life of an exogenous plant", whereas in Endogens the diameter of the stem is "determined by the power of its tissue to distend and on its hardness" (pp. 20-21).

These brief summaries provide clues to botanists' new interest in trees, particularly ancient ones. Trees differ from other plants most obviously in their size and longevity, and in the size, woody quality and strength of their stems. Their age and dimensions, structure and growth patterns, and most aspects of their life cycle, were irrelevant to Linnaean taxonomists. However, the significance of these matters, and particularly the history, growth and structure of ancient trees, to the new breed of botanists such as Burnett and Loudon is reflected in their writings. Burnett's 1827 essay indicated his special concern with the natural history of trees which has "excited much less the attention of naturalists than their interest and importance confessedly demand" (p. 4), but the study of organography enabled him to understand them in greater depth. He conducted experiments on wood from different oak species to determine their age (1832b p. 11) and durability (to ascertain the species of oak with the hardest, least porous and most durable wood for use in shipbuilding, identifying this as Q. pendunculata),96

95. He also discussed hibernation in plants (quoted in Jordanova 1984. pp. 24- 27) . 96. Conversazione 5 February 1830 (Royal Institution Minutes) and £J 1830 (Jan-June) pp. 73-86. For other experiments see QJ Oct 1830-May 1831 p p . 83- 101 . 188

Ray first made the "crucial distinction" between monocotyledons and dicotyledons which, with acotyledons, came to be recognised as fundamental natural divisions.97 C.F.B. de Mirbel's essay on trees in the Dictionnaire des Sciences Naturelles (1816-1829) indicates another distinction, that cylindrical trunks are a characteristic of the monocotyledons (e.g. palms), while dicotyledonous trees have tapering trunks (e.g. oaks, firs) and "the head is divided and sub-divided into ramifications". A drawing by P.J.F. Turpin of an oriental plane and a fir (Abies picea) is included, with other Dicotyledons, although it is not very naturalistic or to scale98 (Fig. 75). Trunks, of course, were not relevant to botanical drawings pertaining to the sexual system99 but whole palms occasionally feature in other botanical works, usually shown in an appropriate landscape. The most interesting is probably the "Cocoa-Nut tree" by an unknown artist in Curtis's Botanical Magazine of 1827; its habitat, tremendous height, and cylindrical trunk are well expressed100 (Fig. 76).

In his inaugural lecture at King's College Burnett concentrates on these groupings, as defined by de Jussieu and de Candolle (pp. 14-34) ,101 He contrasts the "simple structure" of the acotyledons (including the fast growing and increasing fungi) and the "extreme size and age" of trees found among the dicotyledons, which, as Loudon points out, includes almost all the hardy British trees and shrubs, "comprised in a very few

97. Knight 1981 p. 56. Compare de Candolle who first stated that as all Monocotyledons are also Endogens and all Dicotyledons are Exogens, "therefore the division is natural" (1813 pp. 211-212) . 98. Essay on 'Arbres' Vol. XVIII p. 366; entry on 'Botany' Vol. Ill p. 574. Turpin (1775-1840) was the author of Essai d'une iconographie élémentaire et philosophique des végétaux and illustrator of Duhamel's treatise on fruit trees. 99. The 1805 edition of Rousseau's Lettres élémentaire sur la Botanique (1781) which "did much to popularize botany" (Stafleu and Cowan 1981 Vol. IV p. 939) was illustrated by the eminent botanical artist P.J. Redouté and includes - to represent the stems of plants - a very naturalistic and informative drawing of a complete oak (No. 48) (English edition 1785, ed. T. Martyn). 100. Vol. 54 p. 2734. 101. See de Candolle 1813 p p . 211-212; 1827 pp. 136-138. 189 orders" (AFB Vol. I p. 231). Burnett discusses the internal structure of palms and pines and devotes seven pages to the structure - both internal and external - of oaks (and variations due to differing habitats) in an attempt to understand their growth, stature and their "almost indefinite duration". "Historical records" of particular ancient oaks and chestnuts are referred to, and while Burnett says that not enough is known of their natural history to "allow any positive deductions to be made from their size alone", it is apparent that he perceives a causal connection between their comparatively low stature and their longevity (1832a pp. 22-34).102

By 1835 Burnett had carried out various "anatomical investigations" on endogens and exogens and he asserts that a "law of evolution" (development) can be deduced regarding the former (which include palms, of which a drawing appears on page 47) as to a limit to their duration "fixed in early life... beyond which they cannot pass" (Outlines of Botany 1835 pp. 47- 49). On the other hand, the externally increasing exogens, being not so restricted, could live to vast ages (he mentions several famous ancient oaks, for instance, the Salcey and the Cowthorpe (Figs. 49 and 55), believed to be 1500 and 1600 years old respectively, while the Tortsworth Chestnut "was called the Great Chestnut in 1135" (pp. 54-61). Drawings of the Golynos Oak (Fig. 47), a Baobab - "a species whose life span is incalculable" - and a famous ancient chestnut on Mount Etna also feature. Although Lindley pointed out that "the same laws govern lofty trees and tender plants" (1829 pp. 17-18), ancient trees appear to defy the laws of change of living organisms, and it will be apparent why they were of great fascination to these botanists. Whereas Evelyn - and the ancients before him - had been aware of the strength of oak timber and the tree's longevity, now explanations were sought through new ways of analysing plant growth and structure. Having ascertained a law

102 We saw earlier his request to naturalists, editors, etc. to collect information on forest trees for a complete natural history of each species. 190 relating to exogens - that their girth can increase externally without splitting - which accounts for the extraordinary age of some, such plants could not be considered aberations (or monsters, to use de Candolle's term); for instance, all oaks seem to have this potential.

In a lengthy letter on the antiquity of trees,103 a long standing preoccupation (p. 573), de Candolle says that trees can be considered as aggregates of individuals104 and that the general aggregate resulting therefrom has no necessary limit. One comes to the conclusion that trees do not die from old age... that they have no fixed period of existence; and consequently, that some may be found that have arrived at an extraordinary age (p. 572) . The age of endogens is difficult to calculate; the height must be compared to the number of rings on the bark (pp. 580-581). The number of concentric circles indicates the age of exogens; their rate of growth is established by measuring the periods of increase in the diameter (pp. 574-575). Adanson reckoned some Baobabs to be 5150 years old (p. 573) but the longest-lived trees in Europe are probably yews (p. 579) (see Fig. 64) of the oaks he believes Q. sessiflora to outlast Q. pendunculata, because it grows more slowly and "becomes harder and more tortuous" (p. 579). (Note that what he says disagrees with the experiments carried out by Burnett). De Candolle appeals for the preservation of all ancient trees and the fixing of the dimensions and dates of those over 100 years old, to determine the laws of growth (pp. 575 and 583). Research on the ages of ancient trees could "assist us in our inquiries into the history of the globe" and "a very exact appreciation of the growth of trees... may throw light on many parts of vegetable physiology" (p. 573).

Burnett and Loudon also identify ancient British oaks as either Q. sessiflora or Q. pendunculata. But why were only a few

103. The Gentleman's Magazine 1836 Vol. V p p . 571-583; sent to the editor by Edward Jesse. 104. As all plants; this was recognised by Goethe and [Erasmus] Darwin (1827 Vol. II P- 250). Compare Lindley (1830a p. 1). 191 members of these species so old, and not others? This question is not answered directly, but certain factors, taken together, might enable particular oaks to withstand the ravages of time. De Candolle suggests hardness, incorruptibility and resistance to intemperate climates (1836 Vol. V p. 576). Lindley and Burnett also considered the hardness of the wood of exogens important; Burnett established the hardness and strength of oak, presuming it therefore less subject to disease. He also pointed out the oak's comparatively low stature in relation to its breadth and girth, and that differing habitats cause variations in growth. The latter would include soil and climate and accidential circumstances - such as growing where they were protected in some way (on private estates, for instance, although ancient trees were generally venerated by local communities).105

Strutt's drawings of oaks, with which Burnett was familiar, suggest further reasons for their longevity: the new shoots (which on de Candolle's view mirror the characteristics of the whole tree) are short, angular and rigid. This abrupt angularity and emphasis on side shoots, causes the branches to grow more slowly and by zig-zags, instead of increasing their length continuously in one direction. Other forest trees - ash, elm or beech, for instance - produce longer, comparatively straight, flexible shoots, and are generally looser and less stable, as well as faster growing.106

Although he considered "few artists are gifted so to seize the essential characters as to put the stamp of nature on the work of art" (1827 p. 4), Burnett approved of Strutt's drawings and endorsed Burgess's by publishing his essay with them. Loudon's

105. But see de Candolle on this diminishing (1836 Vol. V p. 582). 106. On the age of trees see Rackham (1976 pp. 23-29) . "The power of a tree to prolong its old age depends on its capacity for retrenchment and recovery from damage and on the resistance of its heartwood to decay." In oaks, die-back (producing a stag-head) is a type of retrenchment which avoids production of annual rings; sometimes "ridges on its trunk (genetically determined)... enable it to form new branches late in life" (pp. 24-25) . 192 admiration for Strutt's abilities is obvious but he also complained that most painters had insufficient botanical knowledge (AFB Vol. I p . 14). Nevertheless, his own sketching abilities and visual orientation predisposed him to recognise the value of drawings in dendrology. The Arboretum enables us to see how changes taking place in botany affected the classification and botanical description of trees, and the role of drawings from nature.

Botanical illustration and drawing books

Loudon's Arboretum contains the first systematic use of drawings of entire trees in a botanical work. In the long tradition of botanical illustration, especially following Linnaeus, whole trees, as might be expected from the above discussion, had received virtually no attention. Linnaeus wrote that illustrations "must be of natural size and show the natural position of the parts";107 the reproductive parts were, of course, his main concern. Botanical artists generally worked with fresh or dried specimens, often the flowers and seeds alone, but sometimes the leaves; occasionally the whole plant is represented including the roots.108 This highlights one major difficulty with regard to whole trees; size. In any case, drawing trees from nature, whether in the wild, in arboretums, botanical gardens or private parks, required different knowledge and skills, with which botanical artists were not equipped.

I have mentioned Hunter's somwhat incongruous use of botanical drawings in a treatise on forest trees, which would normally be recognized by such things as overall shape, branching, and rough configuration and colour of foliage. It reflects the growing obsession with taxonomy, however, and would have broadened the appeal of the book. Hunter refers in the Preface to his debt to Linnaeus and clearly considered it important to provide the

107. Philosophia Botaniea 1750, quoted Stafleu 1971 pp. 37 and 77. 108. See Arber 1953 p. 189 on the root's disappearance in later herbals. 193 taxonomic information lacking in Evelyn's editions; in this he set a precedent in Britain.109 The skill and aesthetic qualities of the botanical drawings make the three drawings of whole trees by topographers, discussed in Chapter Three, appear extremely crude, emphasising the long history of botanical art compared to the naturalistic genre of landscape painting. Drawings of parts of trees, as I have pointed out, are entitled "Pine" or "Fir" or "Ash" and so on, as though they constitute the whole.110 In botanical works genus and species are generally in Latin which meant that the binomial nomenclature had to be understood in order to identify the parts depicted as belonging to a tree. The general description sometimes indicates this, but not the more important botanical definition (or diagnosis).

Linnaeus described the drawings in Miller's Illustratis ciyRtema^is Sexualis Linnaei (1770-1777) as "more beautiful and more accurate than any that had been seen since the world began",111 thus stressing two basic criteria of botanical drawing. A painter, an engraver and a botanist are all equally necessary to produce a good illustration; if one of them goes wrong, the illustration will be wrong in some respect. Hence botanists who have practiced the arts of painting and engraving along with botany have left us the most outstanding illustrations.112 Linnaeus expresses here a concern reiterated by all naturalists who used illustrations, as we saw in Part I; his last comment places the onus on the botanist to add painting and engraving to his skills. It is not clear to whom Linnaeus was referring but in 1736 he met Johann Jacob Dillenius FRS (1687-1747), first Sherardian Professor of Botany at Oxford, whose full-size drawings from life (engraved by himself to ensure accuracy) were much admired and used by other botanists including Linnaeus.113 He also corresponded with the ornithologist and artist George

109. But see Duhamel 1755. 110. See Philip Miller's Catalogue Plantarum 1730 (Banks Collection NHM) which contains several very beautiful watercolours of tree parts (twigs with leaves and cones or seeds) by van Huysum. 111. Quoted Blunt 1950 p. 150. 112. Quoted Stafleu 1971 p. 78. 113. Blunt op. cit. p. 136. He calls Dillenius "an unusually gifted amateur". 194

Edwards FRS (1694-1773) ,114 Some other naturalists who developed drawing skills of a very high standard were the zoologist William Swainson FRS, FLS (1789-1855) who also set out rules for zoological painting and emphasised the study of living animals,115 and the self-taught botanist James Bolton (d. 1799) who wrote and illustrated the first British monograph on ferns (c. 1785) and corresponded with eminent naturalists.116 Lindley produced several illustrated works with botanical explanations in the 1820s and recommended that all artists should study botany (1829 p. 23).

In the Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences William Whewell, discussing botany, asserts that "recognition of the kinds of plants must depend upon the exact comprehension of their resemblances and differences; and to become a part of permanent science, this comprehension must be recorded in words".117 This represents the dominant contemporary perception of the supremacy of language in relation to scientific knowledge118 but ignores the explanatory power of exceptionally good drawings which can render them superior to description. Cuvier, himself an excellent artist, "regarded an authentic visual representation of the subject as the device least likely to mislead the student".119 Burnett made use in his lectures of specimens and drawings to "bring the plant as it were into review before us" (1832 p. 10), in other words to 'stand in' for the complete plant, facilitating explanation and comparison. Other

114. Allen 1976 p p . 35-36. See above, Chapter One. 115- Taxidermy 1840 pp. 64ff. See also Knight op. cit. pp. 97-106; Larson 1993 Ch. 1. On zoological illustration see Blum 1993. 116. Desmond 1994. p. 81; Henrey 1975 Vol. II p. 138. See Blunt op. cit. p. 224 for a fuller list. 117. 1847 Vol. I p. 519. Compare Linnaeus, who, while accepting the importance of illustrations, finally put more trust in words: "From a figure alone who could ever argue with any certainty? but most easily from written words". (1737) (1787 edition p. lxix para. 13b). 118. Schaffer considers Whewell's search for a proper scientific language to avoid erroneous or partial views (1991 pp. 201-232) and says "the underlying binding principle of the sciences was linguistic" (p. 225). See also Blum 1993 p. 8 ; and Foucault on the "reciprocal kinship between knowledge and language" (1970 p. 89) . 119. Coleman 1984 p. 55. See also Outram 1984 p. 181). 195 naturalists besides Burnett (and Loudon of course) recognised this power; William Jackson Hooker (who drew over 640 plates for Curtis's Botanical Magazine from 1827)120 used drawings to explain the variations in structure of various parts.121 Swainson wrote: The importance of illustrated works to the advancement of right understanding of science cannot be questioned. Words, however many, or however well selected, cannot picture to the eye the real form of things.... next to examination of the object, its correct representation is the most to be desired.... a rough outline, a small woodcut, will accomplish this object better than a whole page of the most elaborate description. In proportion to the complication of the object... so is the necessity increased for calling on the aid of graphic art.122

Although many naturalists taught themselves to draw, it was often through the actual process of drawing from nature that expertise in areas of natural history developed, as we will see more clearly in Part III.123 The eighteenth century artist- naturalists - Georg Dionysius Ehret,124 Benjamin Wilkes, Moses Harris and Eleazar Albin - were all practising artists before they became naturalists. Each was attracted to the study of natural history through drawing and painting the plants and insects which he found so appealing (especially in their colouring).125 Ehret's overly detailed and lifeless drawing 'Cedar of Lebanon' (Fig. 46) suggests some of the difficulties faced by botanical artists who attempted to depict whole trees;

120. Desmond 1994 p. 353. 121. Hooker had conducted field classes for medical students in Glasgow from 1821 (Allen 1976 p. 107). 122. 1834 p. 401. 123. See Goethe Italian Journey 1787: "The few lines I draw on the paper... help me to a better comprehension of physical objects. The more closely and precisely one observes particulars, the sooner one arrives at a perception of the whole" (1982 edition p. 173). 124. Ehret worked with Linnaeus in Holland in 1735-36 and contributed the famous illustration of the latter's sexual system to Species Plantarum (1736) (Henrey 1975 Vol. II p. 63). 125. See Blunt op. cit. p p . 135-149; Calmann 'The development of the artist as natural historian' (1983) . Wilkes, Harris and Albin were entomologists; Harris produced the first colour circle for artists - the "Scheme of Colours" published in English Insects (1766 Vol. II). James Sowerby called himself "naturalist and artist" and was a Fellow of the Linnean Society, but the text for English Botany was written by Sir James Edward Smith. 196 the accompanying drawings of parts would have been the significant factor for the botanist.

Botanical drawing books, containing beautiful, often exotic, flowering species, were plentiful in the eighteenth century and were intended for copying by amateurs, especially ladies. Loose plates - for instance those of Ehret who was a popular and fashionable teacher for forty years - were also copied.126 James Sowerby (1757-1822), unhappy with this state of affairs, gives as the motive for his little Botanical Drawing Book or Easy Tntroduct-.ion to Drawing Flowers According to Nature (1788) : the want of a drawing book... to distinguish the different Parts absolutely necessary to characterise each Plant... to facilitate Botanical studies and blend Amusement with Improvement (Introduction). This is probably the first work of its kind by an established botanical artist. Five colour plates present, in minute detail and natural size, the various parts of different flowers and seeds; the sixth shows the entire flower head of Tradescantia, with stalk and leaves. His intention is not to supply yet more copying material for purely decorative pictures, but to establish a firmer botanical underpinning for flower drawing through a brief elucidation of each plate. On Plate VI he stresses the importance of knowledge of the "Parts, Situation and Structure of the Flowers" and recommends the use of outlines - "the first grand principle of all Drawing" - to delineate form.

Note the phrase "according to Nature" in the title. Like many other practitioners, perhaps most, in the empirically-based occupations of natural history and sketching from nature, Sowerby is untroubled by Locke's strictures concerning human knowledge; he is certain that nature yields its secrets, if only

126. See Henrey op. cit. Vol. II p p . 585-598; Blunt op. cit. p. 217. The drawings of lady amateurs often became very well known and sought after. Gilbert Burnett used tree drawings by his sister in his lectures; Loudon trained "Miss M.L." to strict standards for the Arboretum and his wife Jane appears to have been his amanuensis, although there is no evidence that she drew. Important research on women botanists and amateurs has been done by Ann Shteir, for instance 1984, 1987, 1993. 197 by careful and unremitting observation, and therefore that accurate (or truthful) representations are possible. Blunt mentions a Miss Lawrance's Sketches of Flowers from Nature (1801) "to help the tyro acquire that Ultimatum of the Art... a natural Appearance".127 Linnaeus's insistence on "natural" size and position in botanical drawing is just another way of saying "according to nature", or as Loudon put it, a "true idea of nature". Other botanical drawing books, being governed by long- established conventions, evince the same concerns. They reflect in varying degrees the criteria for 'professional' botanical illustration, and it is likely that some artists who later achieved success used them. Accurate flower drawings have always been valuable botanical resources; while such work can inspire and act as models, and good manuals can assist the student by stating (and illustrating) essential criteria, by pointing out pitfalls, and by providing detailed explanations of techniques, in the end each individual must learn for him or herself how to draw from nature. In 1829 Lindley was still criticising artists for lacking botanical knowledge: "flowers stuck upon parts where they could no more grow than a man's head beneath his arm" (1829 p. 23) .

It will be apparent that even the most accurate and beautiful botanical illustrations could not have provided much practical assistance for tree drawing from nature - nor, seemingly, could the teaching of botanical drawing, since landscape painters began to produce their own tree drawing manuals.

Tree drawing as botanical art

Loudon's dissatisfaction with the treatment of trees in botanical works must have been a strong motivation for his years of labour on the Arboretum. We have seen that he is especially critical of the proliferation of species identified by botanists and the confusion over nomenclature, often the result of work

127. Op. cit. p. 22 . 198 done from dried specimens rather than growing trees. Knowledge of the whole tree in its growing state is of great concern to him, not only in tackling the taxonomic chaos and assisting horticulturists and others working with trees, but also because dendrology should "embrace the whole subject" (Vol. I pp. 192- 193). Lindley pointed out the inseparability of botany and horticulture128 of which Loudon would of course have been aware.

I have mentioned the four volumes of plates of whole trees in the Arboretum (see Figs. 79; 81-83).129 In the botanical particulars these engravings are mentioned fourth, immediately after 'Distinctive Characters' of the species and races and before the fuller 'Descriptive Details', indicating the importance Loudon attaches to their ability to aid identification and convey information. He probably considered them iconotypes, exhibiting the most obvious similarities and differences between genera (oaks and willow, for instance) and species (oak and oak), as well as some specific characters, of each type. Their purpose is to give a "palpable idea of the general magnitudes, forms and character which different species and varieties assume when growing in the same soil and climate" (Vol. I p. vi). They are grouped according to the natural system in three divisions: "general figure" of the entire tree at ten years old (scale 1/4 inch to 1 foot); "botanical specimens" by j.D.C. Sowerby (1787-1871) (Vol. I p. xiii)130 (2 inches to l foot) (or their natural size if less than 1 inch across); and full grown trees" (1/12 inch to 1 foot) with "specimens of leaves" (2 inches to 1 foot) (Vol. I p. 223) . Correct scale is clearly very important. In addition, a number of symbols introduce each genus, identifying it as a tree or shrub, whether deciduous or evergreen, and so on, and giving a rough idea of its size and height at maturity (Vol. I p. 223) (Fig. 73).

128. 1829 p. 22. This connection is reflected in the surveys of Britten and Boulger (1893), Henrey (1975), and Desmond (1994). 129. Loudon stresses this to arouse interest in the work: "we shall give figures of all the principal genera" (MNH 1828 Vol. I p. 37). 130. Actually J. de C . Sowerby FLS, eldest son of James Sowerby whom Loudon had met on arriving in London in 1803 (1845 p. xi) . 199

The "Descriptive Details" (Vol. I pp. 223-224) comprise all the usual information relating to the flowers and the seeds but the "stem" and the leaves receive greater attention than is customary for trees under the Linnaean system, since they are now considered essential organs.131 This is also true of the inclusion - under "General Descriptions" - of such things as "habit, bulk, figure and duration" and "rate of growth", which incidentally are all related to the growing tree either directly or indirectly. External structure of the trunk and branches (often popularly referred to as the 'anatomy' or 'skeleton'), and the manner of growth of the leaves on the branches, as well as habitat, are clearly of crucial importance to the appearance of trees and to their identification. Loudon aims to convey "a correct idea of the figure of the plant to one who has never seen it, so as to enable him to recognise it" (Vol. I pp. 224- 225). Again, nearly all these requirements could be accessible from drawings based on a direct study of particular species, while something of the effects of soil and climate on size, growth and age can often be inferred from landscape paintings - aspects included under "Geography" (Vol. I p. 229).

In order to see how this works in practice let us look at the chapter devoted to Coxylaceae (or Cupuliferae), the Oak Tribe (Vol. Ill p p • 1715-2030). The genera are divided into deciduous and evergreen, and according to their native habitats. Genus I is "Quercus L. The Oak (Linn. Syst. Monoecia polyandria)",132 The identifying symbols for this genus follow (Fig. 74) and then its "Distinctive characteristics". Those of the flowers, fruit and leaves are as expected but the inclusion of "Trees, chiefly

131. "The stem... its figure, direction, duration, articulation, surface, bark, ramification, branches, branchlets, twigs, height relatively to age, native habitat, and artificial locality.... The leaves... their vernation, internal structure, figure, articulation insertion, circumscription (that is outline, base and apex) surface, subface, venation, direction, colour, texture and duration" (AFB Vol. I p. 223). 132. Its naming by Linnaeus is acknowledged by Loudon as is usual. The term Quercus robur is retained for convenience "to designate a group of closely allied species, or perhaps only varieties" (AFB Vol. Ill p. 1742). 200

large and deciduous" is unusual since, as I have said, the fact that a plant is a tree normally only appears much later in the general description of each species. A two-page summary follows which is qualitative in tone and reminiscent of the broad concerns of the treatises in containing such remarks as "the most majestic of forest trees" and "king of the forest" and comments on the oak's size and longevity and the superiority of its timber for buildings and ships. A description of its overall appearance as a growing tree is also included with much information on height and magnitude in varying soils and situations, and on age; geography and history, properties and uses appear under separate headings (Vol. Ill pp. 1715-1718).

The first section (deciduous oaks) is grouped as "Q. Robur" (British Oaks) and the characters of leaves, bark, fructification and height, which define it are first stated very briefly. The two species ("Q. pendunculata" and "Q. sessiflora") are then dealt with separately but similarly. In the former case, the tiny symbol representing a large deciduous tree is followed by the "Specific Characters" of "the leaves, stalks and nuts", but the appearance of the growing tree is also stated: "A tree from 50-100 feet high with spreading tortuous branches and spray, and when standing singly, with a head broader than it is high". After the synonyms and derivation is a list of related engravings (of "botanical specimens" only) in the works of Sowerby, Martyn, Duhamel, and in Hunter's Silva. Grimm's drawing of the Greendale Oak - and the plate numbers in the relevant volume of the Arboretum). Varieties are also discussed (Vol. Ill p. 1731). On the species' history (pp. 1746-78), Loudon refers to several works already mentioned, and he later quotes Gilpin on the oak's picturesque qualities (p. 1789).

All aspects of the description of Q. pendunculata could be depicted by a landscape painter practised in drawing growing trees; these are what the engravings in the Arboretum are designed to display. Engravings of oaks used in the text are usually taken from Strutt's published drawings, mainly of 201 particular historic oaks, the species of which is given if known - for instance, the famous 'Gog' and 'Magog' of Yardley Chase, Northamptonshire, are identified as Q. pendunculata (Vol. Ill p. 1765) (Fig. 77); some are shown growing in their natural habitat. It is clearly important to Loudon that drawings of particular trees which might be known are identified and their situation stated. As we have seen, the 'situatedness' of sketches from nature is always considered vital by naturalists and documentation of ancient extant specimens was now especially important to botanists. Several drawings by Strutt are included in the text.

Loudon uses a drawing of a full-grown oak by Strutt (Fig. 78) (and four by Jukes: two Q. pendunculata and two Q, sessiflora, growing in Studley Park) to assist in settling an argument between various botanists ("Wildenow, Smith, Martyn and Burnett). The long-standing disagreement concerned whether or not there was any difference in magnitude or general appearance between full-grown trees of Q. pendunculata and Q. sessiflora which would allow one or other to be positively identified as the old species Q. robur (applied by Linnaeus, following Pliny). Strutt's drawing is given as "characteristic of the general form of both species" and Loudon is "strongly inclined to believe that there is no important and constant difference between the mode of growth of the two species" (Vol. Ill pp. 1740-1745). It is interesting that Strutt and Loudon, from their observations in the field, choose characters of growth and structure to aid identification; Mirbel, commenting earlier on the difficulty of distinguishing between oak species, had considered "the shape of leaves at maturity closer in the end".133 Loudon includes a few drawings of oak leaves in the text, but only one or two are life size.

This pattern is followed for each order. For instance, for the Aceraceae, the "Generic Characteristics" of flowers and seed are given and the plants are identified as "trees or shrubs, almost

133. 1816-28 Vol. VIII p. 396. Thirty pages are devoted to the oak. 202

all deciduous, with opposite leaves, without stipules". The species comprises "chiefly low and medium-sized deciduous trees, generally with lobed but occasionally with entire or pinnated leaves". Other information is concerned with habitat and size, and its "highly ornamental" appearance, valuable timber, sugar extraction; some particular trees are mentioned. In addition twenty-seven pages of engravings of the leaves, all of "natural size", are displayed, two being identified as from an old tree at Syon and a sapling at the Horticultural Society. This huge number of engravings (compared to the oak, for instance) and the fact that they are life size, allowing easy comparison with the originals, indicates a special difficulty of identification; the "Specific Characters" also begin with the leaf, rather than the flowers and fruit (Vol. I pp. 404-462).

The emphasis throughout is on direct observation but Loudon considers drawings of entire trees from nature to be of great value in showing the characteristic external structure and growth of tree species at various ages, as well as their overall appearance, with and without foliage. The 600 full plates in the Arboretum were mostly specially commissioned by the author and drawn from nature by landscape painters, supervised (and in one case, trained) by Loudon himself.134 None is well-known now, but "that accurate and able artist" Henry Jukes was employed by Mrs. Lawrence of Studley Royal (Vol. Ill p. 1742), while George r . Lewis (Fig. 79) worked for the Duke of Northumberland.135 The others were William A. Nesfield (Fig. 81), Henry le Jeune (Fig. 82), R. Varden, about whom no particulars are given, and an amateur, "Miss M. L." (Figs. 83 and 133-135), who appears to

134. 1845 p. xxxix. Jane Loudon says he employed seven artists but this may include Strutt, who would not have been supervised; his drawings are reproduced or "copied" from his own etchings. 135. The Duke paid for 100 drawings by Lewis, and for their engraving (AFB Vol. I p. viii). Loudon acknowledges portraits, specimens and information received from Continental correspondents (including de Candolle); he thanks various botanists for looking at drafts and the Dukes of Bedford, Richmond and Portland, and the Earl of Wicklow, for information (pp. viii-ix). 203 have been instructed by Loudon (Vol. I p. viii) ,136 The "List of Trees" indicates the artist responsible for each drawing (Vol. I p. cliv) and some plates are signed; those not specially commissioned are almost all by Strutt. The study of trees by these artists, guided by Loudon, corresponds to the field collaborations discussed at the start of this thesis.

Although not shown in landscapes (presumably to avoid distracting from their specific characters), the trees all grew in the vicinity of London. If of any unusual interest or growing in a well-known locality, this is indicated, for example, 'Walnut-leaved American Ash, Pope's Villa' by le Jeune (Fig. 82). In addition to facilitating recognition by showing the trees' overall appearance, they could aid understanding of structure and patterns of growth and, in particular, facilitate comparison between species and varieties. The usual "botanical specimens" (the reproductive parts) are still given, and while these are important for complete knowledge, it is the whole tree of which the naturalist, or any one else working or observing outside the study or herbarium, is first aware.

It may be that some - even most - botanists were suspicious of illustrations not strictly botanical. Having visited South Carolina in 1752, Alexander Garden apparently found many inaccuracies in Mark Catesby's illustrations in A Natural History of Carolina (1731-43), and wrote that whereas "any ingenious system would be based on some essential character... an illustration, giving merely an external appearance, could be thoroughly misleading".137 If that appearance were based on sound knowledge, however, it could be very informative. Loudon understood the value of visual material for communicating knowledge but he was also aware of the problems connected with ensuring its accuracy.138 I have already mentioned the lesson on

136. This was probably the "M. Lejeune" (perhaps related to H. le Jeune) Loudon mentions as being "in our employment" (AFB Vol. I p. 208). 137. Knight 1981. p p . 60-61. Catesby's Carolina drawings (NHM) contain no trees apart from a few palms. 138. See Knight on this subject (1981 p. 47). 204 tree drawing, included in the Arboretum, to be considered in detail in Part III, and Loudon's close supervision of his own artists was clearly intended to avoid the type of criticism levelled by Garden. It must be said, however, that the drawings vary in quality (especially in their ability to impart information about the configuration of the foliage) and in one case, at least, the drawing is so unlike the species as to suggest that the wrong caption has been applied. This is George Lewis's 'Cedar of Lebanon' (Fig. 79) (even less successful than that by Ehret (Fig. 46)); we have only to look at another drawing by him (Fig. 80) to see that he was quite capable of a good likeness.

These engravings were not intended to be decorative like the flower paintings discussed earlier in this chapter - in fact Loudon appears to have gone to some trouble to confine artists to essentials, although he recognised that ideally truth should be combined with beauty. While many lack aesthetic appeal, in general they display - like the best flower drawings - the essential characters of each species. In spite of some shortcomings, the drawings were a new departure in a botanical work and helped to fill a gap in the knowledge and recording of trees.

Burnett was also aware of the ability of drawings to facilitate comparison and explanation.139 His use of drawings, "enlarged diagrams" and specimens in his lectures "to bring the plants as it were into review before us"140 indicates a strong visual orientation (no doubt fostered by the theatrical element of medical lectures as well as his herborizing activities and demonstrations in the field). Outlines of Botany (1835) contains several woodcuts of whole trees, probably by his sister who

139. On Cuvier's use of drawings in his lectures and Leçons d'Anatomée Comparée see Coleman 1964 p p . 55-60. 140. 1832a p. 10; QJ 1830 p. 181. The drawings used - "superior to anything of the kind hitherto exhibited on such occasions" were by his sister (ABO 1836 p. 273) an amateur landscape painter who appears to have been trained in the necessary botanical knowledge by Burnett in much the same way as Loudon trained "Miss M.L.". 205 illustrated and edited the posthumously published Plantae TTtiliores.

Approximate age and size at any stage of a tree's life cycle can be indicated in a drawing, as can much valuable information concerning external structure, growth patterns, habitat and relationships to other plants. An understanding of the external structure of the whole tree is crucial to a naturalistic representation,- only thus can the artist be certain of having selected the essential characters of a species. For Loudon the principal value of the commissioned scale drawings in the Arboretum lay in their ability to communicate generalisations about the growth and structure of the various species. However, they also constitute historical records of specific trees at known stages in their life cycle which in the future might provide valuable information enabling further studies on age and size to be conducted, including comparison between species and genera.

This examination of attitudes to trees and tree drawing from the seventeenth to the nineteenth century has established some of the meanings of trees for various groups. Trees gradually emerged from the background of people's consciousness to become appreciated for their visual qualities, exploited for economic and social reasons, cultivated, studied and drawn. Certain treatises were influential in bringing this about, and depictions played an increasingly important role, with all groups demanding greater naturalism. This meant that artists had to ignore theories of art and study the living trees, learning to observe them closely and draw them accurately. The mingling of the concerns of naturalists and artists in Remarks on Forest scenery were probably influential in suggesting to other landscape painters, such as Strutt and Burgess, an alternative treatment for trees, and for landscape in general. Picturesque theories and practical aspects of garden design also drew attention to trees' visual qualities and affected artists' perception.

Fundamental changes in botanical practice altered the role of the botanist, the classification of dried specimens in herbariums becoming subsidiary to fieldwork with living plants and the investigation of structure in the laboratory (although these practices were complementary). Field experience appears to have been significant in predisposing some botanists to the natural system since they were used to discerning affinities. All areas were brought to bear on the discovery of causes and the establishment of the laws of plant life. We have seen that once taxonomic criteria were extended by the adoption of the natural system, and the more holistic practices of philosophical anatomy were applied to plants, the investigation of entire trees also became relevant to botanists.

Tree drawings from nature were part of this broader conception of botany, especially as knowledge of internal structure could help to explain external form. Since botanical artists lacked experience in this practice, botanists requiring such drawings chose landscape painters who already had extensive knowledge of trees and were able to provide drawings which emphasised general patterns of structure and growth rather than individual peculiarities. Loudon appears to have considered the scale drawings in the Arboretum as iconotypes,- his supervision of the artists who provided them continues the tradition of collaboration discussed in Part I. 207

PART III The Living Academies of Nature: experimental practices and communication of techniques in tree drawing

Seeing nature is very far from furnishing the means of imitation. - Edward Kennion1

We have seen that tree drawings from nature by landscape painters contributed significantly to knowledge of trees. To produce faithful representations of each genus or species, artists had to observe and draw them in their growing state, and in so doing they were operating within the context of natural history field practice.

The treatises and other works on trees showed how to plant, appreciate, classify and study them - and that depictions were important to each endeavour. However, little reference has so far been made to how it was done - to the processes, and particularly the skills, of tree drawing from nature. The methods used cannot be fully understood by looking at paintings or drawings of trees. In order to appreciate the problems faced and the visual and manual skills which had to be developed and devised, we must look elsewhere. Part III is devoted to a comprehensive analysis of manuals on tree drawing produced by landscape painters between 1770 and 1860 which reveal the processes involved and confirm that naturalistic tree drawing was based on systematic study and experimentation.2

In eighteenth-century copybooks trees received scant attention, although figures and animals were often dealt with as separate sections, with the advent of the sketching tour it became common to "take a view" for finishing at home or in the studio, which

1 . An Essav on Trees in Landscape 1815 p. 17. 2. The term 'manual' covers various instructional works; two have no text and were intended for copying, the usual method of teaching in the eighteenth- century. The following works were particularly helpful for background material: Fleming-Williams (in Hardie 196G-68 Vol. Ill Appendix I pp. 212- 244); Bicknell and Munro 1988; Fothergill 1985. 208 no doubt stimulated an interest in trees and created a demand for instruction. The numbers of manuals devoted entirely to trees increased substantially after about 18133 and this special treatment indicates the difficulty they presented. We have seen something of the history of botanical drawing books and the reasons whole trees were excluded; the advent of tree manuals emphasises the infancy of naturalistic landscape painting. Flower drawing books were produced for lady amateurs learning at home but the texts of the tree manuals reveal that they were intended for wider use.

All the manuals (or relevant parts) and articles on tree drawing discussed here have been examined in detail.4 They will be considered roughly chronologically but where an artist produced several these will be mentioned together to facilitate judgment of any personal development in terms of skills. Some background to the artists' practice will be given to set their study of trees in context. Many express acute dissatisfaction with the prevailing manner of landscape painting and especially of representing trees. It will be noticed that there is little painting instruction. Although some tree manuals are by watercolourists, except in one case drawing is always taught first; the pencil is considered superior for representing the characters of trees and for learning how to do it. In order to show the manuals in the context of the wider world of landscape painting I have traced some of the links between their authors and other landscape painters which might have encouraged tree drawing.

Chapters Six and Seven examine and explain three phases of tree drawing from nature - innovation, consolidation and consensus -

3 . See Bridson and White Plant. Animal and Anatomical Illustration in Art and science 1990 p p . 35-100. 4 . I have taken c. 1860 as a cut-off point for reasons which will become clear. Checking against Bridson and White, there are very few of which I have found absolutely no trace; m some cases not all editions have come to light. Three (an autograph manuscript, a part-manual and an important article) do not appear in Bridson and White. 209 which I have identified by considering the manuals collectively. Although these phases can be roughly dated, and later authors often built on predecessors' work, each artist had to learn for himself. The early manuals are particularly innovative since, as I have indicated, drawing trees from nature was uncommon. A deeper understanding of the characters of trees acquired through intensive study is discernible in subsequent works; teaching methods are consolidated and improved by a more systematic approach and refinement of techniques. Consensus in the later manuals is demonstrated by a change in rhetoric which confirms acceptance of the naturalistic mode and its foundation in study.

It quickly becomes apparent that these artists had to teach themselves before they could communicate their knowledge of tree growth and structure, and the techniques to depict these, to others. Analysing the manuals enables us to separate these two stages. The final chapter attempts to reconstruct the learning process, revealing the experimental aspects of tree drawing. Effort was directed, in a process of learning by doing, to the problem of making pencil marks convey a truthful impression of the forms of nature. The creation and communication of the "touch", a device designed to assist with the representation of various types of foliage, constitutes an exploratory type of experiment, involving interaction between eye, hand and mind to refine the vision and guide and improve the operation of the hand. These processes, and the craft and tacit skills embedded in them, are shown to have much in common with recent studies of laboratory experimentation. 210

CHAPTER SIX

Nature as guide: innovations in tree drawing

The manuals discussed in this chapter were almost all produced in the late eighteenth century and were by influential teachers. They provide further evidence that some landscape painters were attending directly to nature and were becoming aware of trees as highly complex natural productions requiring close study in order to represent them faithfully. On this view, idealising trees or copying them from great classical landscapes embodying different values and perceptions, or even 'guessing at' them in the studio or imagining them, was unacceptable. They also demonstrate that the artists' own observations yielded new knowledge of growth and structure and show how each tackled the problems of communicating those insights and the means of representing them.

The manuals by Alexander Cozens and John Laporte have no text but the drawings are very different from other contemporary copying material - for instance Richard Earlom's engravings after Claude's drawings - and would have encouraged students to look at trees for themselves.5 Gilpin's Remarks on Forest Scenery contained a very important analysis (with drawings) of the growth of the "sprays" of deciduous trees and the relationship of these to the trees' structure, and therefore to their character. Gilpin was the first to comment on general patterns of tree growth and to infer causal connections.

Since the innovations in the manuals were devised without benefit of artistic conventions, they also improve our understanding of naturalism and its close relationship to aspects of natural history. Those by Gilpin, Cozens and John

5. Teaching by copying continued into the next century. Burgess produced tree drawings for this purpose in 1828. 211

Baptist Malchair are especially important. Cozens1s reveals his extensive knowledge of tree structure before sketching from nature was common and his distinctive approach to communicating it; Malchair's, although unpublished, suggests how he inspired his students to continue their sketching from nature and illuminates his own practice. Instructions for tree drawing form part of the attack by William Marshall Craig on landscape painters for failing to attend closely to nature. His other important contribution to the discourse of tree depiction was his analysis of tree parts, or "elements", which provided the basis for subsequent teaching of foliage.6 Laporte and Louis Francia followed Craig's example and their manuals also reveal some of the problems faced by painters using watercolour.

An alternative mode of depiction

In his substantial discussion of the eighteenth- and nineteenth- century drawing masters, Fleming-Williams says that the influential practices of Alexander Cozens (1715-1786) and the Oxford teacher, John Baptist Malchair (1729-1812) "differed radically from those adopted by the general run".7 Their early plein-air sketching was probably the most important factor in the formation of these artists' attitude to nature and to their teaching of tree drawing.

The Shane. Skeleton and Foliage of Thirty-Two Species of Trees fnr Use in Drawing Practice (1771) by Cozens appears to be the earliest published manual of tree drawing.8 It has no text but its purpose, as the title indicates, was to assist students of landscape painting in the recognition and accurate depiction of different species of trees. Cozens's expectations for his pupils

6 . Compare Sowerby: "very much depends on the Parts" 1788 (Plate VI). 7 . Hardie 1968 Vol. Ill p. 226. 8 . Some 'Studies of Trees' by William de la Cour, possibly dating from the 1750s, are referred to by Le Blanc (Bridson and White 1990 p. 54) but I have been unable to trace these. 212 suggest assumptions about the appropriate manner of looking at and depicting nature far removed from those generally held.

Trees in landscape painting were usually idealised and of indistinguishable type, shown more or less indiscriminately in different landscape settings, in an artificial or decorative manner to frame a view or act as a repoussoir. It is immediately apparent from Cozens's etchings,9 which are not idealized or topographical in the manner of Rooke or Grimm, that Cozens has approached the depiction of trees from a standpoint based not on imposed artistic theories and values but on looking directly at the trees themselves. The incipient naturalism of some is quite remarkable for this time and they stand out even in his unusual oeuvre.10 Cozens's paintings rarely exhibit the level of knowledge of trees seen here since the "blot" treatment he devised for landscape precluded attention to particular characters. However, since he re-issued the tree work in 1786, he must have considered it still relevant. In view of Cozens's influence as a teacher and writer, and the innovations in tree drawing in this manual, it merits a fuller analysis than it has so far received. The dismissal of the etchings as "silhouettes" by his biographer A.P. Oppe may have caused them to be overlooked, but I hope to show that this does them less than justice.11

Cozens's originality as a landscape painter and a teacher may have developed because he was removed from the mainstream of

9 . Those shown here are from a set in the Botany Library, NHM. The date on the title page is 1771 although the prints are dated January 1786. The edition of 1787, the year after Cozens1 death, referred to in Bridson and White, suggests a re-issue by his son J.R. Cozens (whose 1814 soft-ground etchings of forest trees are also mentioned). They cite an entry in The Universal Catalogue of Rnnks on Art 1877 giving 1786 as the date of publication of nineteen plates: Delineations of the general character, ramification and foliage of forest trees (1990 p. 62). 10. There are a few exceptions, for instance, he is unlikely to have seen a palm (No. 23) except in another drawing. 1 1 . Henrey describes them, but inadequately (1975 Vol. I p p . 591-593), although their early date should make them of interest to botanists. 213

English landscape theory and practice at a formative period.12 Apart from one visit he did not live in England until 1746; his youth was spent in Russia but little is known about his early studies. In 1746 Cozens - one of the first British artists to study in Italy13 - was in Rome, where dated sketches, his notes and timetable show that he was sketching regularly out of doors and probably studying with Claude-Joseph Vernet (1714-1789), who also drew from nature. Oppe comments that his notes on sketching from nature are not concerned with ideal composition but provide systematic schemes, with numbered steps. Accuracy and an insistence on study are stressed, and sketching alternates with work at home, but light and shade and colouring are always to be corrected "from life".14

The Rome sketches may have helped Cozens to obtain the post of drawing master at Christ's Hospital, where from 1749-54 he taught basic drawing skills to able seamen and young officers for the recording of "coastlines, harbours, fortifications and topographical details"; strict accuracy was the main criterion.15 While teaching at Eton College in the 1760s and 70s, Cozens also built up a fashionable private practice, and published several influential 'systems' of painting. It is not certain that he taught his students to draw from nature, even with easy access to suitable sites; this would have been unusual before the second or third decade of the nineteenth century.16 However, his own work at this time includes views as well as imaginary landscapes. The tree drawings suggest copying to have been a preliminary exercise in the process of learning to draw from nature.

12. For accounts of his life and work (and J.R. Cozens) see Opp4 1952; Sloan 1986. 13. Opp£ thought Cozens probably the first (1952 p. 16) although, as we saw, the amateur Robert Price drew from nature in Rome c. 1739-40. 14. Oppe 1927 p. 89. Cozens used a smallish sketchbook (18.4 x 12.7cm.); some sketches are squared for enlarging (ibid. pp. 81-83). See also Sloan op. cit. p p . 9-14 and p . 18. 15. Sloan 1986 p p . 21-22; Fleming-Williams (Hardie op. cit. Vol. Ill p . 215) . 1 6 . Fleming-Williams (ibid. p. 227). See my comments on Sandby and Williams Wynne in Chapter Two above. 214

Cozens's use of the word "species" in the title of his manual emphasises his perception that the drawings accurately present what he considered necessary for "drawing practice".17 Four trees are shown on each page, presented alphabetically as was common in the eighteenth century. This does not aid comparison between easily confused trees, although three species of fir (Nos. 14-16) (Fig. 84) and three willows (Nos. 29-31) (Fig. 86) are grouped together. Comparison obviously played an important part in Cozens's own study. In terms of the expectations expressed in the later manuals and of what Loudon, for instance, required of drawings of different species by the 1830s, Cozens's trees have limitations. Growing trees are usually first recognised by their overall shape - their relative height and spread, division of the main branches, smaller branching habits and the density or lightness of the foliage - all of which can be depicted, given sufficient knowledge and skill. Cozens's drawings are somewhat stylised; the trunks are all treated exactly the same and the branches tend to grow too abruptly from them; finally, the uniform scale is more relevant to their presentation than to the trees themselves. However, Cozens's sectional portrayal of the deciduous trees cleverly reveals in one image both their skeletal appearance in winter and their full summer foliage (Fig. 85).

With no botanical guidelines for the study and depiction of whole trees, "skeleton" in the title suggests his model to have been anatomy,18 the province of both art and science. Reynolds commented that "a landscape painter certainly ought to study anatomically... all the objects which he paints".19 Representing any natural object involves observation and comparison, similar

17. The word "species" occurs frequently in all these works, often implying the existence of only one species of oak, or ash, etc., whereas in general "genus" would be more appropriate. Loudon uses "species" in the Arboretum when referring to the plates (which present all species), and when discussing landscape painting (for example, Vol. Ill p. 1745). 18. Compare Oppe 1952 p. 47. 1 9 . Discourse XI (1905 p. 304). 215 to that required in life-drawing between the drawing and the figure; it is a continuous and inseparable aspect of the process and one with which most art students would have been familiar. Cozens's approach (adopted by later teachers) would have helped the student to make the transition from the body to the "skeleton" of a tree, and suggested (by analogy with human limbs) the roundness and solidity of trunk and branches, as well as the 'head'. As we saw in the topographical drawings, these are difficult to portray but essential for a naturalistic representation. In spite of his sectional approach, Cozens's etchings avoid flatness and some branches are drawn growing on the far side of the trunk with their masses of foliage receding from the eye; this is particularly apparent where the foliage is comparatively sparse as in, for instance, the Willows (Nos. 29-31) (Fig. 86). The depiction of such aspects renders OppS's description of these drawings as "silhouettes"20 inaccurate as well as inadequate, although they are shown against the sky. Oppe also refers to them as "diagrammatic", but this too is an over-simplification. In fact most display a naturalism reduced to the bare essentials - of overall shape and structural contour - with a slight but reasonably correct indication of foliage.

The external structure of a tree is more than the "skeleton", of course, but overall shape and mode of growth are largely accurate. The trunk, main branches, "ramifications" and sprays (as the progressive division of the branches into smaller units was generally known) exhibit their disposition to grow vertically (for instance, Cypress, Poplar), horizontally (Oak, Cedar of Lebanon) or to hang down (Weeping Willow), or to combine horizontal branching with pendant ramifications (Elm, Beech). As the deciduous leaves are shed, Cozens perhaps thought of foliage in terms of skin. Each tree being depicted at a distance where the whole is visible, the exact character of the sprays is difficult to discern, especially in the deciduous trees and often there is inadequate differentiation between the

20. Op. cit. p. 47. 216

size (actual or relative) at the bottom and the top (Figs. 84 and 85). (Not allowing for the greater distance of the top from the eye is a common error, criticised by later teachers.) However, sufficient information is given to indicate the type of tree from the overall shape, the relative density of the foliage and its character where clearly silhouetted against the sky. Very fine wavy horizontal lines laid close together, creating an appearance of filigree, are used for the foliage of most of the deciduous trees (Fig. 85), and fine vertical or slightly diagonal lines for the three firs and the willows (Figs. 84 and 86). At a very slight distance these lines merge delicately together, producing a realistic appearance.

Cozens's work is in the tradition of eighteenth-century copybooks but the method of display seems to invite critical appraisal - for instance comparisons are possible among the drawn specimens, and of the drawings with actual trees. They would therefore have been identifiable by anyone familiar with trees and would have assisted the landscape painter to distinguish between different types by increasing awareness of some of the principal features of each. The middle-distance approach probably also helped since shown any closer the foliage masses would have confused those without the necessary selective skills. As it is they enabled the student to learn much about the ramifications and something of the foliage - and would possibly have encouraged further observation and study.

The great difficulty experienced by earlier topographical artists and landscape painters in representing trees - and especially foliage - indicates that Cozens's drawings could not have been made without quite close study. The manual presents the results of his investigations only (facts learned about the I trees) anii omits the stages of his own learning process, although some aspects of these can be surmised. His approach only suggests the new skills which he would have had to acquire to communicate his understanding of characters, for instance, to express the characteristic shape of the foliage masses of each tree when in silhouette and, especially, in devising their 217 representation within the body of the tree; cross hatching or random strokes would have reduced their natural appearance.

Oppd stresses the non-scientific nature of these drawings: "the process is not scientific in any sense. A species is separate in his eyes because it has a different appearance and that is all that concerns the artist". However, he remarks on Cozens's "considerable powers of observation" and ability to record the distinctive visible character of each species: The structure of each tree is presented with the manner in which its trunk and branches grow, its general external appearance with its masses of foliage and something of the detailed contours formed by the clusters of its leaves....21 He argues that in order for Cozens's work to be scientific it would have to exhibit a deeper botanical knowledge which would reveal insights regarding growth and establish various causal connections.22 With a greater understanding of contemporary botany and natural history, however, I believe that he would not have been so insistent on this point.

In the above quotation, Oppe highlights important information discernible from Cozens's drawings, representing potential insights for those who saw them. Cozens's observation and recording of growth and structure can be seen to correspond to the field practice already discussed. As for causal connections - botany at this period, as we have seen, took little account of such things. Close observation and accurate recording was the modus operandi of natural history; that Cozens attempted to represent thirty-two "species" surely indicates a particular view of the significance of trees in the natural world and in landscape painting. It also showed the possibilities for depictions produced by direct reference to the trees themselves. The level of knowledge of the structure of trees and the ability to represent them shown here was almost unique among landscape painters and certainly surpassed that of most naturalists and

21. 1952 pp. 46-47. 22. Ibid p . 47. 218 botanists. In distinguishing trees from one another in this manner Cozens extended the possible scope of landscape painting. His own study of the trees was scientific in contemporary terms and his method of teaching by copying, a beginning rather than an end in itself. Even without a text it is quite clear that Cozens thought landscape painters ought to know and be able to portray the main characters.

Although the extent of the manual's influence is impossible to gauge exactly, others interested in tree drawing in the 1770s besides Cozens's own students (who were numerous) must have used it. Cozens's influence on Beaumont was apparently very great23 and as Beaumont was at Eton until 1769, not long before the drawings were published, he may have seen the originals.24 He subscribed to Principles of Beauty Relative to the Human Head (1778)25 but landscape was his preferred pursuit as an amateur painter and he owned Cozens1s notes and the published section of various Species of Landscape etc, in Nature (1770s) . These were copied, probably in 1823, by Constable and George Gregory (who also pasted Cozens's 1771 Thirtv-two Species in his album).26 Constable is believed to have copied Cozens's cloud studies at this time27 but no tree copies are known.

Cozens must have found the tree manual useful in his own teaching and worthy of a wider audience since he reissued it in 1786 when A New Method of Assisting the Invention in Drawing original Composition of Landscape, his system of landscape painting derived from "blots", was published.28 The detail in the tree drawings would be lost in this method and would not, therefore, be of great assistance to the beginner in learning the characters and skeleton of the trees - another reason,

23. Owen 1988 p p . 7-8. 24. In the Hermitage Museum in St Petersburg (Wilton 1980 p. 7). 25. Said to have had 300 subscribers, including Beaumont, Edmund Burke and William Beckford (Whitley 1928 p. 321). 26. On a visit to Beaumont (Sloan 1986 p. 49). 27. Ibid. pp. 49-53. The cloud Btudies appeared in 1786 in A New Method. 28. OppS op. cit. p. 28. 219 perhaps, for reissuing it. The text of A New Method yields insights into Cozens's assumptions about landscape painting, his own drawing practice and his teaching, thus helping to illuminate the tree manual. At first sight he appears less concerned with direct observation, the emphasis being on "invention". Many landscape painters fail, he says, owing to "the want of nature and originality" but he is critical of those who spend too much time copying the work of others or "the landscape of nature herself".29 The blot system is designed to assist with "original composition", with "increasing the stock of picturesque ideas" and with "the art of seeing properly" (pp. 3 and 13); ideas stored in the memory can be recalled later by using blots (pp. 15-16). "Artificial representation of the landscape" must be based on "the general principles of nature" (p. 2). An added "purpose" of this system is the "taking of views from nature... whoever has been used to compose landscape by blotting, can also draw from nature with practice" (p. 14). "A habit of taking notice, or observing all the parts of nature," Cozens says, "is strengthened by experience" (pp. 13- 1 4 ) . Blotting avoids lines and "this is conformable to nature for in nature forms are not distinguished by lines but by shade and colour" (pp. 8-9). This is an insight of great importance to tree drawing and to naturalism generally; once understood it greatly assisted the move away from a topographical approach. It is interesting to recall James Sowerby's comment in 1788 that outlines are "the first grand principle of all drawing", although his remark was no doubt directed to beginners. Cozens recommends the practice of observing and of drawing single parts or objects such as "trees, thickets, water, rocks, etc. from drawings and prints, but especially from nature... in order to acquire the knowledge of parts" (p. 27). From this we can see that although Cozens believed the composition of a painting to be the province of the imagination, this system could be practiced prior to sketching direct from nature, particularly to assist the development of a student's observational ability. It

29. 1786 (Reprint 1977 p. 3). 220 could therefore be useful to the painter of both ideal and naturalistic landscape.

Cozens's tree manual reveals that drawing trees from nature requires close observation in order to recognise and select the essentials of external structure and growth of each individual type. We will see that the "art of seeing" is assumed or emphasised as the starting point by all subsequent authors of tree manuals. Once this has been grasped, the way is open for the discovery of other facts - some general, some more specific - and of course for learning how best to communicate them. Acquiring a habit of observing nature closely brought the landscape painter's practice nearer to that of the naturalist. Cozens presents only a condensed version of his discoveries here, although to achieve this level of understanding and skill would have entailed lengthy periods of observation and sketching practice. In later manuals, in which each stage of the process is set out (more clearly in some than in others), the connection between knowledge of the trees and drawing them is more obvious. Showing the trees in their natural settings would have provided more information but by being completely abstracted from nature, except in so far as they may be thought of as being depicted against the sky, the tree drawings perhaps had a greater didactic impact at the time, especially as Cozens was attempting to communicate something entirely new.

rjn outlines in nature

The manual on landscape painting by John Baptist Malchair observations on Landskipp Drawing, with Many and Various nvamples Intended for the Use of Beginners (c. 1790),30 although unpublished, was clearly based on his own experiences of drawing

30. I am very grateful to Ian Fleming-Williams for allowing me to study this autograph manuscript and a draft copy of his unpublished book on Malchair. These, and his 'Drawing Masters', have been my main sources of information on Malchair. 221 from nature and his influential teaching practice at Oxford over the previous thirty years. It allows us some understanding of his approach to the practice and teaching of tree drawing. Malchair's contribution to British landscape painting is far less recognised than Cozens's. He only exhibited once - at the Royal Academy in 1773 - although some etchings of the environs of Oxford were issued in 1763.31 He was well known in artistic circles, however, and in a diary entry for 8 June 1795 Farington remarked on the great respect in which he was held.32 He was also highly original in his approach as a painter and teacher and largely unaffected by the prevailing attitudes to landscape painting in Britain. Fleming-Williams comments on this and on the significance to his practice of his having "learnt his art in the open fields.33

Malchair first taught music and drawing in Germany where he was born. He arrived in England in 1754 and began to draw from nature in earnest around 1757, encouraged by his patron, Robert price. His Bristol sketches of 1757-59 show that he was already paying close attention to features of the landscape in a manner neither strictly topographical nor in the grand style; Fleming- Williams refers to his early work as "picturesque topography".34 There is a definite attempt to distinguish between different types of tree, for instance in a pair of sketches of 1758 (Fig. 87).35 These exhibit very little understanding of growth patterns or the character of foliage, although the pollard willow in the lower drawing is recognizable. The scribbles on the left of the top sketch are attempts at various methods of depicting different foliage.

In 1759, Malchair was appointed Leader of the Music Room Orchestra at Oxford and also taught drawing. Several respected

31. BM Department of Prints & Drawings C5*. 32. Farington visited Malchair in 1800, recorded his remarks and saw some sketchbooks but made no comment on them (Diary 1 August 1800). 3 3 . Fleming-Williams (Hardie op. cit. Vol. Ill p. 232). 3 4 . John Baptist Malchair Ch. 3. p p . 13-25. 3 5 . On verso: "Aug. 15 1758 at Bristol" (Ashmolean Museum. Album III No. 1215) . 222 amateur painters were his students while at the University, including Beaumont, the Earl of Aylesford, Oldfield Bowles and William Crotch. He inherited at least two other old Etonians besides Beaumont from Cozens36 - and it is more than likely that the two teachers knew each other.37 He maintained an unusual friendship with his students which continued after they left the iversity; letters and visits were often exchanged and an annuity was purchased for him in 1793.38

Malchair appears to have taught himself to draw from nature (with advice from Price) and sketching outside was the hallmark of his teaching. Some preliminary instruction and copying practice - mainly from his own drawings or from prints after Claude and Caracci - preceded regular excursions into the countryside around Oxford. As the Observations (and hundreds of demonstration drawings) reveal, Malchair put himself in the place of the beginner and drew at first "as a child" to engender confidence. His main concern was to teach the student to see for himself and to train his hand to express his observations - whether of features of the landscape or effects of light and shade. Various examples (from simple to quite complex) are provided for copying practice, to encourage familiarity with the use of "the blunt point of the lead pencil" (p. 1) and to learn the "touch". This word occurs frequently and, roughly, it denotes the manner in which pencil lines, while bearing no relation to natural objects can be made to express the great variety of appearances in nature. As Malchair says,

36. Peter Rashleigh and Thomas Frankland (Fleming-Williams op. cit. Ch. 6 p. 15) . 37 . Oppe 1952 p. 23. Some of Gilpin's pupils at Cheam School may also have gone on to Malchair. 38. Farington Diary 8 June 1795. Fleming-Williams suggests that Malchair was very unbusiness-like as a drawing master: "As he painted and drew for pleasure, his pupils and friends, understandably, never considered him otherwise than as an amateur like themselves.... it won him friendships with many who would have felt differently about him as a professional artist" (op. cit. Ch. 6 p. 29). Joseph Banks contributed to this annuity (ibid. p. 44) which raises interesting questions about his connection with Malchair. Banks was at Oxford from 1760-64 (Carter 1984 pp. 25-27) but there is no record of any drawing lessons. Perhaps they met while working in the field - Banks at his natural history pursuits and Malchair at his sketching. 223

An able artist... every touch he putts being true according to the Nature of the object he represents, all tells, and nothing is superfluous, he immediately lays hold of that on which the character of the object most principally depends.... Observations (p. 70).

This is perhaps the first recorded connection of the touch with the depiction of the character of objects; notice also his emphasis on truth. This insight illuminates Malchair's approach to drawing from nature. In terms of a mode of tree drawing which aims to exhibit the particular characters of each species, what later authors of tree manuals refer to as the "correct touch" for each tree becomes absolutely vital.

That tree drawing is the most difficult aspect of landscape painting is, Malchair says, "very evident from the many bad representations of them so frequently observed in the works of artists" (pp. 58-59) .39 However, discussion of his alphabet of touches is general and the extremely simplified drawings on the first page do not alone provide much practical help. There are several pages of small sketches of trees in the Observations, however, and Malchair recommends the beginner to "loosely coppy some" to "give him a flowing freedom of hande and a pure knowledge of the barke, roots and timber of them" before drawing from nature (p. 61). This expresses two further basic principles of naturalistic tree drawing, constantly reiterated by later teachers: a thorough understanding of individual parts and a high degree of freedom in using the pencil to express them. The first step to "flowing freedom" is to turn mechanical movements into rhythmical ones by constant practice. Without an understanding of the place and function of the parts in the whole, knowledge would be incomplete, but Malchair presumably expected this to be rectified when the student began to draw direct from nature.

39. Some well-known teachers, such as Edward Dayes and David Cox, virtually ignore trees in their manuals; they may have found trees difficult since their paintings exhibit no great skill in this area. 224

Small drawings of eight different trees40 appear together (p. 31) and would have been particularly helpful in aiding recognition and encouraging comparison of their overall shape and foliation. In this and in their presentation they are reminiscent of those by Cozens, and are also shown in middle- distance (approximately one-third the size), but they contain less information about the structure of the branches, since the 'skeleton' is not so obvious. However another page (p. 29) contains four (extremely simplified) deciduous trees (oak, elm, ash and beech) in full summer foliage with something of the branching visible through the masses. Malchair's economical use of a blunt pencil is quite unlike the other's finely etched lines and beginners would probably have found his simplified approach easier to copy. I do not have reproductions of these but a loose sheet of pencil drawings of several different species together (Fig. 88)41 will serve as a substitute since roughly the same comments apply. They may have been used by Malchair's students, or were perhaps a draft for the book; most are very similar to the drawings in the manual although the trunk and growth of the willow is not nearly so well observed and its foliage is very sketchy. Copying any of these drawings would have assisted the eye to distinguish differences between species and the hand in manipulating the pencil to express them; they would, even without much explanation, have been reasonable preparation for sketching trees growing at a similar distance. Their main deficiency would have been insufficient information concerning the special characters of different foliage to assist in drawing nearer trees. Of the other instructional drawings, there are two 'views' of a variety of trees with contrasting foliage and habits of growth (p. 33), while a pair of ancient (and picturesque) tree trunks and two slightly sketched rocky outcrops feature in short focus in another (p. 35).

40. Oak, cedar of Lebanon, birch, poplar, spruce, stone pine, weeping willow, pollard willow. 4 1 . 'Oak, Elme, Ash, Beach, Birch, Wilow' (undated) Ashmolean Museum Album II 1208 . 225

Three full-page drawings of a stone pine, a spruce and a cedar are also included and these could have been compared with the small, simplified drawings. 'Stone Pine' (Fig. 89), in a slight landscape setting, admirably illustrates Malchair's understanding, earlier recognised by Cozens, that "natural objects have, strictly speaking, no outline...." (p. 1). Fleming-Williams suggests this might have been a copy of one of Richard Wilson's Roman sketches but stone pines were introduced into this country in the seventeenth century and Malchair drew one (with a young cedar) in the Botanical (Physic) Garden in Oxford in 1778.42 The drawing is executed in (soft) lead pencil and Malchair has achieved a convincingly naturalistic account of the tree's overall shape and the manner of growth of the trunk, principal branches and their ramifications (with their upward-tilting character). The uneven texture of the bark, the avoidance of a hard edge to the trunk by undulating (his own word) pencil strokes, and judicious shading creates a sense of solidity and roundness. This was beyond the awareness or capability of most contemporary landscape painters, and flatness is still frequently complained of in later manuals. The foliage, especially its erect character at the extremities of the branches, confirms the species. (Incidentally, it makes Cozens's drawing of the same species (Fig. 90) look distinctly bizarre - a strange failure since he had drawn them in Rome.)43

The simplified small drawings tend to make the representation of foliage appear easy. Here, Malchair attempts - unsuccessfully - to indicate areas receiving direct sunlight by the use of smudging (an important part of his practice, which was intended, like Cozens's blots, to avoid outlines). Full sunlight striking the foliage, causing it almost to disappear (later called the 'lights'), is probably the most challenging effect to achieve convincingly, especially in the area closest to the eye. It may

42. The Malehair drawing: "April 11 1778. Phisic Garden. Oxford" grey wash over pencil 20.2 x 15.7 cm. (Ashmolean Museum Album X 1016) . Perhaps the one Gilpin mentioned (1791 Vol. I p. 81). 43. Opp£ 1952 facing p. 68. 226 be helpful to look at three drawings by Constable of 1799, 1817 and 1820. The earliest, of a copse (Fig. 91), indicates the problem he had with this (and the very summary treatment he gave to the foliage generally), while the detailed study of firs and the large drawing of elms (Figs. 92 and 93) show that he overcame it with practice. Malchair's stone pine, being more complex than his small drawings, demonstrates his ability to observe and to select the necessary information to present to the student in simplified drawings.

How did this study translate into Malchair's own work? In many of his views in and around Oxford between 1759 and 1799 trees are given at least equal prominence with buildings. A few examples picked at random show his continued interest in observing them and his actual skills in comparison with his teaching models. A pencil drawing 'Mungwell Wednesday 17 of August 1774' shows several different trees near a pond, of which the elm and ash in mid-distance are immediately recognisable; 'Kirtlington October 10 1783' (grey wash over pencil) contains a group of trees which show evidence of study, for instance the oak's chief characteristics are clearly visible - its angular branching, the light covering of leaves through which the sky and branches appear, and the overall shape of the foliage masses. Of the tree portraits, 'a sappling elme. Magdalen Grove 19 June 1785' is well observed, including the upward tilt of the extremities of the sprays.44 Malchair's students would have seen these and others like them (Fig. 94) and probably watched him at work.45

Malchair's study was not confined to trees; often his skies are very well observed.46 His interest in depicting fleeting atmospheric effects and in the play of light and shade on the

44. Ashmolean Museum: Album I No. 1005; Nos. 947 and 953 (Box). 45. A common method of teaching in the nineteenth century too (Fleming- Williams 1990 p. 35). 4 6 . See, for example, the rain storm in 'A distant view of the Severn....' (Ashmolean Museum No 978). 227 landscape was assisted by the tonal treatment he adopted to avoid outlines. He preferred pencil and wash to colour but his tonal style is more painterly than the linear approach of most of his contemporaries. Such "tonal naturalism", as Fleming- Williams refers to it, could clearly unify and enhance a tree drawing or natural history landscape.

Malchair's tonalism was adopted by his close friend William Crotch (1775-1847).47 A musical prodigy and Professor of Music at Oxford aged twenty-two, Crotch was never exactly a student of Malchair's but learned from their hours together and from regularly seeing Malchair's drawings (many of which he inherited); they sometimes sketched together, enabling Crotch to observe and copy Malchair's method.48 He began sketching from nature - with James Roberts and William Delamotte (Oxford Drawing Master after Malchair's retirement) - following his meeting with Malchair. Although he left Oxford in 1806 he still visited his old friend, and formed the 'Great School' of which Malchair and he were First and Second Presidents; membership was confined to friends who drew and were sympathetic to the principles of Malchair's teaching and included Beaumont, Delamotte, Roberts and Constable (who never actually knew Malchair).49 After they met in 1806 Constable adopted Crotch's habit (acquired from Malchair) of inscribing his drawings with time and place, and occasionally with weather notes, and Crotch's early Oxford style appears to have influenced him briefly at this formative period.50 However, Fleming-Williams considers the effect of Malchair's tonalism (which Constable would have known from the many drawings owned by Crotch) was probably considerable.51

47. Fleming-Williams 1994 pp. 62-63. 48. Crotch wrote on a 1799 sketch of Malchair's: "I was with Malchair when he drew an ash... he drew a dead branch with a rapidity like lightning" (Fleming- Williams op. cit. Ch. 7 p. 55) . 49. Ibid. Ch. 6 pp. 72-73. 50. Ibid. pp. 62-63 and Fleming-Williams (Hardie op. oit. Vol. Ill p. 233). 51. Compare the similarities in style between Malchair's Welsh views of 1795 and Constable's in the Lake District in 1806 (Fleming-Williams 1994 p p . 64- 65) . 228

Crotch's own manual The Road to Learning, begun in 1795, shows that he taught by means of reducing everything, including trees, to geometrical figures.52 This method reappears in a notebook of 1803 on a page entitled 'Anatomy of a Tree' (Pig. 96); the 'skeleton' consists of the trunk, limbs, etc., while the foliage is formed from overlapping circles, elongated ovals or triangles, depending on the shape of the original. Two trees, one spreading, the other upright, feature in another drawing (Fig. 95). The latter demonstrates how "a tree of a particular species, presumably an elm, can emerge from a grouping of rounded shapes in a sort of spatial whirl".53

Sketching regularly out of doors appears to have become habitual with other students of Malchair's; for Aylesford and Beaumont it was obviously pleasurable as they both undertook regular sketching tours. From the 1770s Beaumont was frequently in the Lake District and Wales, often accompanied by Hearne, whose drawings from nature for Richard Payne Knight in the 1780s have been mentioned (Fig. 51), and occasionally by Farington (Fig. 1).54 For an amateur's, Beaumont's work is outstanding. The idealized vision of his oils, in the manner of Claude or Wilson, both of whom he greatly admired, contrasts with the spontaneity of his sketches. These are sometimes rather slight but the overall effect is often impressive - mainly due to his compositional sense and handling of light and shade (perhaps learned from Malchair), which imparts depth and life. The movement of water is usually excellently represented (Fig. 98), and this is sometimes achieved also in his oils.55

Beaumont generally had problems with portraying the characters of tree foliage (compare his sketchbook of 1802-1808)56 but

52. Compare R.K. Dawson's military drawing manual (Pigs. 38 and 39). 53. Fleming-Williams 1990 p. 60. 54. Owen 1988 is a valuable source of information on Beaumont. 55. For example, 'Jacques and the Wounded Stag' (Tate Gallery). 56. Whitworth Art Gallery, Manchester. 229 their overall shapes are often well observed. In a drawing dated 1790 (Fig. 97) the trees are far removed from Malchair's copying models, the individual foliage masses having volume and flexibility. The large tree appears to be an ash from its branching and ramifications and the looseness of the foliage. Details of this are quite well handled on the left side because Beaumont has followed the growth of the sprays with light pencil outlines and shading, but those on the right are portrayed without the correct droop in the direction of growth, and the rough shading from right to left increases their unnatural appearance. In the group of trees, however, he has managed the cascade of leaves on the right very well and the "lights" are excellently expressed - in spite of the rough shading - which nevertheless effectively indicates recession. For a right-handed person, representing foliage on the right side requires great dexterity and practice and it was not taught really well, judging by the manuals, until James Duffield Harding's Elementary Art of 1834. Beaumont's powers of observation were quite acute and his skill at selection and expression of essentials more than competent. It would seem that what he learned from Malchair, and his perseverance with drawing from nature, enabled him to depict trees reasonably naturalistically - certainly with far greater attention to their growth and characters than most other amateurs or professionals in 1790. Constable would have seen many of Beaumont's sketches and drawings, indeed, he copied some in 1823.57

Thomas Hearne58 is another example of an artist who, like Constable and Sandby, appears to have learned to draw and paint trees from nature through years of observation and practice, having recognised for himself their importance to the English

57. Besley 1991 p. 86. See also Fleming-Williams 1990 p p . 78-80. In 1801 Farington commented on the likeness of Constable's trees to Beaumont's (Diary 3 September 1801). 58. Hearne features in most catalogues of exhibitions of British landscape. See also Morris 1989 and Bermingham 1994. The many watercolours by Hearne in the V&A are impressive for the naturalistic effects, especially of light and shade, that he achieved in this medium. 230 scene. His topographical landscapes and antiquarian works, which he exhibited regularly at the Society of Artists and Royal Academy between 1765 and 1806, seem to have drawn him to the study of trees. Some closely observed ancient specimens can be found among his drawings and these may have prompted Payne Knight to invite him to Downton. Several years of drawing and painting the oaks and beeches there enabled him to depict them with increasing naturalism (Fig. 51), enhanced by his skill with colour and light and shade. After this, oaks often featured in his work. His foliage generally demonstrates his ability to strike the important balance between the general and the particular. Beaumont's choice of Hearne as a sketching companion suggests that he appreciated someone with a similar attitude to drawing from nature.

Through their observations and drawing from nature, Cozens and Malchair were aware of trees as living plants and this enabled them to teach their students that growth and structure could be understood and depicted. The effect of their pioneering work in opening up new possibilities for landscape painting is hard to assess. However, their students came from an educated élite, which included connoisseurs, collectors and patrons, whose influence was considerable. Some continued to draw from nature, exhibited their work, and were among the first to undertake sketching tours; they also had many contacts among professional artists.

fipnpral patterns and causal connections

Cozens and Malchair taught their students to observe trees but Gilpin's closer scrutiny of structure and growth showed other teachers that a more analytical approach could increase understanding of the whole. The reputation of Gilpin's theories of art probably means that Remarks on Forest Scenery had an immediate impact on the art world on its publication in 1791. We have already seen its importance in drawing the attention of landscape painters to the picturesque qualities of forest trees 231 and I have argued that his observations pointed the way for artists to study them in the context of natural history. Since virtually all subsequent authors of tree manuals, who were all professional landscape painters and teachers, refer to and quote from it, a few comments on the practical guidance it afforded the tree drawer will be relevant here.

Gilpin's only experience of teaching drawing appears to have been during his headmastership of Cheam School in the 1750s59 but all his books were didactic - full of rules and advice addressed to the landscape painter - and this is no exception. His field studies made Gilpin aware that the more common trees, so similar to the uninitiated, possess "nice peculiarities and distinctions" which are connected with their varying growth patterns. In order to understand these, the smaller parts - the "ramification in winter" and "the mass of foliage which they exhibit in summer" - should be examined with more precision (Vol. I p. 101). To assist with this Gilpin includes drawings of "the little tender sprays" (p. 101) of the oak, ash, elm and beech, both separately and connected to form the ramification (Fig. 99) • The spray, he says, fixes "the character of each species" since "nature seems to observe one simple principle... that the mode of growth in the spray corresponds exactly with that of the larger branches...." (pp. 105-106). This "sylvan anatomy... is very necessary for those to understand who wish either to be acquainted with the particular character of each tree or to represent its general effect with any degree of exactness" (pp. 101-102). On the other hand, the painter must be accurate in "a certain degree" only; "endeavour at precision would be stiff and pedantic" (p. 105).

The drawings immediately communicate the differences in the patterns of growth of each type, but further elucidation is provided in the text: Thus the oak divides his boughs from the stem more horizontally, than most other deciduous trees. The spray makes exactly in

59. Sloan 1982 p. 222. 232

miniature the same appearance. It breaks out in right angles, or in angles that are nearly so; forming its shoots commonly in short lines; the second year's shoot usually taking some direction contrary to that of the first. Thus the rudiments are laid of that abrupt mode of ramification, for which the oak is so remarkable. When two shoots spring from the same knot, they are commonly of unequal length; and one with large strides generally takes the lead. Very often also three shoots, and sometimes four, spring from the same knot. Hence the spray of this tree becomes thick, close and interwoven; so that, at a little distance, it has a full, rich appearance and more of the picturesque roughness than we observe in any other tree. The spray of the oak generally springs from the upper, or the lateral parts of the bough: and it is this, which gives its branches that horizontal appearance, which they generally assume (pp. 106-107) . Gilpin discusses and compares all the sprays to impress on the reader their differences and that the special qualities of their appearance are directly related to their particular "mode of growth". While oak shoots grow from the extremities of the branches, causing the abrupt mode of ramification just mentioned, he explains that the elegance of the pendant boughs of the ash arises because of its "natural regularity of growth" in which the main stem "holds its course" while the pairs of shoots (of which only one usually develops) spring alternately from its sides and at a slightly more acute angle than those of the oak. Elm shoots alternate like the ash, but singly, and their growth from the parent branch is even more acute. Beech shoots also alternate but grow still more acutely and as the distance between them is greater the spray "forms a sort of zig-zag in its course"; lacking the strength of the oak, the ramifications become pendant rather than horizontal (pp. 107- 109). Gilpin may have been the first to make such causal connections about the growth of trees but other painters, particularly Strutt, drew similar conclusions from their observations and drawing.

The drawings and the descriptions together will successfully have communicated Gilpin's knowledge. It is easy to see that his observations have informed the drawings, enabling him to show general patterns rather than individual peculiarities - exactly Loudon's aim in his Arboretum drawings. Gilpin says that while nature (mainly as a result of variations in soil and climate) 233

does not "act always in conformity to the appearances, which I have here marked.... in the general mode of growth, which each species observes, no doubt, she is uniform" (p. 112). From knowledge of the spray the artist would have learned important facts about the whole tree (such as the angle of growth of branches from the trunk, the distance and position of divisions and the causes of rigidity or pliability). Gilpin fails, however, to carry out his expressed intention to discuss foliage and this limits practical help in establishing the special characters of each tree. Four narrow watercolour strips of distant trees in full foliage (between pp. 228 and 229) (Fig. 100) indicating their "general form... as they recede in the landscape" (p. 178) provided examples for copying but little exact information. Apart from any personal difficulty he may have experienced in expressing the "nice peculiarities and distinctions" of the foliage of these four trees, I have already pointed out the conflict between his knowledge and his paintings (Figs. 59 and 60). In terms of the foliage, we can see (even with only Cozens's and Malchair's simplified examples for comparison) that close study has not been involved,60 and this is confirmed by the roughly contemporary drawings of Hearne and Beaumont.

Detailed descriptions of the great variety of appearances of trees fill many pages, as do discussions of their colour and the effects produced by seasonal and atmospheric changes. These no doubt provided inspiration for landscape painters but Gilpin's close-up drawings of the sprays and his analysis of their growth, based on his observations, could have alerted them to differences between these common trees. Some, already in the habit of drawing from nature, may have realised the significance of the direct link between appearance and "mode of growth". Gilpin's study of trees, and the conclusions he draws, allow us further insights into the relationship between natural history and landscape painting.

60. Compare Gilpin: "The oak, the ash and the elm, which bear a distinct resemblance to each other may all be characterised alike" (1792 p. 78) . 234

Nothing so beautiful... nothing so difficult

Gilpin was attacked by another landscape painter, William Marshall Craig (c. 1765-1828) for his method of composition and for encouraging the artist to "represent only general nature and not her individual features", believing, on the contrary, that »to imitate Nature exactly is the only sure way to arrive at any tolerable degree of exactness".61 Gilpin's riposte was to call Craig, and others who took this view, "literalists"62 (which was probably as damning at the time as labelling them "mere topographers"). While the model provided by Gilpin's paintings (particularly of foliage) is often so generalised as to be obscure, Craig failed to acknowledge what he must have known - that generalisation is necessary in any landscape painting, however closely nature is adhered to, since everything cannot be shown. Later teachers of tree drawing insist that such generalisation must be based on knowledge - of characters and growth - so that these truths are not totally obscured with increasing distance. Craig presumably ignored this because he was attacking Gilpin's influential theory of the picturesque.

Craig, another able drawing master63 who exhibited between 1788 and 1827, produced his instructions on tree drawing in the context of his critique of Gilpin's attitude to landscape painting. Neither An Essay on the Study of Nature in Landscape (1793) nor The Comnlete Instructor in Drawing (1806) (which I will discuss together) are exclusively on trees but they feature prominently in both. The inclusion of the word "study" in the title of the earlier work immediately sets the agenda for Craig's approach to landscape painting. This concept had not

61. 1793 PP- 10 an<* 24. Bermingham uses the opposing attitudes of Craig and Gilpin in the context of her discussion of the politics of landscape in this period, arguing that "instructions as to how to delineate certain objects in a landscape... actively inscribed or became the sites of specific ideological attitudes and ambivalences" (1994 p. 78). 62. Quoted Bermingham ibid. p. 92. 63. Painter in Watercolour to Queen Charlotte. Farington recommended him as a teacher (Diary 13 March 1798). 235 been expressed directly before (although it is implicit in the earlier manuals) and "the necessity of adhering closely to nature" (p. 5) is regularly reaffirmed in the text.

Four of the eight etchings in the Essay are of trees. Craig recommends much copying practice to "impress objects forcibly on the mind" and give them the "same energy and truth of character as if derived immediately from nature" (p. 17). He is highly critical of the artist who "sketches merely the forms of things and fills up the interior with a twirl, a flourish or a zig-zag of his pencil... a short-hand kind of representation... which few can understand" (pp. 19-20). He echoes Malchair: "Every different kind of material should be expressed by a different kind of line or touch which Nature will always point out if attended to" (p. 22). Craig's criticisms and suggestions are forcefully expressed, and those who read the Essay would have been left in no doubt of the alternatives afforded landscape painters by studying nature. However, while some major pitfalls are indicated, little practical advice is provided.

Craig's tree drawings, while obviously the result of some study, reflect topographical conventions by emphasising outline and minute precision; his treatment of the two pollard willows recall antiquarian prints (Fig. 101). This indicates that a changed attitude to drawing from nature is not alone sufficient to produce a naturalistic depiction. In Plate I the texture of the bark has received scant attention while a mass of unimportant detail is included; the overall impression created by the hard line is rather stiff and two-dimensional. Close scrutiny has rewarded him, however, with the knowledge that willow leaves alternate on the stems.64 Plate IV is a distinct improvement in terms of shading, producing greater solidity in the trunk and recession in the foliage. It is possible that he intended these drawings as two stages in the process of learning-by-copying. Craig's drawings reveal a first step in

64. In virtually all species. 236 ascertaining "truth of character" (p. 17) and avoiding "one certain kind of execution for all objects indiscriminately" (p. 22) by finding the correct touch, but his hard line is less naturalistic than, for instance, Malchair's combination of soft pencil and rubbing.

The numerous plates in Part Three of The Complete Instructor in Drawing (the section devoted to trees) show the effect of several further years of study on Craig's understanding of the trees and his ability to communicate his knowledge and skills. In spite of his comment that "nothing in Pictured Landscape is so difficult" (Part Three p. 1), his confidence and dexterity have both improved and most of the trees are immediately recognisable from their overall shape and branching. Emphasis on outline has also been reduced and excessive detail omitted - the latter suggesting enhanced selective ability; greater understanding of the importance of shading has increased the appearance of depth, while a freer handling imparts a sense of life and vigour.

in Part Two Craig asserts that "proper study" will lead to "exactness of vision in judging magnitude and distances"; Part Three will show "how the superficial properties of objects are to be expressed and characterised by lines and touches of the pencil". His intention to provide examples of the "ramification and foliage of different trees and their precise character at various distances" (Part Two p. 1) is not entirely accomplished, particularly in terms of the foliage. The willows and firs (Figs. 102 and 103) are quite naturalistic, and retain their character with increasing distance, but for most trees the character is still not expressed clearly enough to meet Craig's own stipulation of precision. In fact his earlier criticism of "shorthand" styles is rather ironic, since much of his foliage is treated in this way - suggesting that his "touch" is not sufficiently based on observation of growth patterns.

The first plate of the seven in Craig's Part Three, "Elements" (Fig. 104), is the most important since it represents an attempt 237 to provide a system to assist the student to learn to draw foliage. Leaf sprays are broken down into smaller and smaller parts, the shapes of which become increasingly simple until the simplest form is reached. This endeavour to solve the problem of foliage drawing by breaking it down into parts, recalls Euclid's Elements,65 or Craig may have seen it in terms of chemical analysis. In either case, the analogy is apt since these elements (known as the "touch") are the fundamental building blocks of foliage drawing. Craig says the simple outline in his Figure 1 must be "copied slowly and carefully even till it can be repeated by the memory", making sure that "the inner points are directly towards the centre". This "element is first varied and then broken into masses" in Figures 2-8.

The first examples represent the method to be followed for all rounded leaves, then for pointed ones. His Figures 16-20, however, give the "elements of foliage for the oak" and Figures 14-15 those for the willow, Figures 21-22 for firs. These "elements" must be used in conjunction with the larger plates (Figs. 102 and 103) , in. order to see the "distinct character that arises from the manner in which their masses lie, some being upward, some horizontal and others pendant..." (p. 2). The "kind of line or touch" which Craig had said in 1793 "nature will point out if attended to" is not referred to here and if the "elements" are intended to demonstrate this or assist with learning it, he does not explain or make it sufficiently clear in the drawings how touch relates to character. Nevertheless, this method of teaching - breaking down and learning the parts - was an important innovation and one which was adopted and improved on by most other teachers.

In 1821 Craig published A Course of Lectures on Drawing. Paintincr and Engraving Delivered at the Roval Institution.66

65. See Pickstone 1994. 66. Delivered at the request of one of the Managers (p. viii) in six series between 1805-1818 (Manager's Minutes). 238 in a lengthy section on trees he reiterates the necessity of attending to "the particular touch which characterises the foliage and bark of each", "the knowledge therefore of character... is indispensible" (Lecture V pp. 283-284) . While "truth of imitation" has lately been decried as "beneath the dignity of a great artist... each tree, each little flower, demands its appropriate touch of the pencil" (p. 253). His audience is reminded of the value of accurate drawings to the naturalist "in any department", who must shut up his discoveries in his own bosom or trust them to the vague and indefinite conveyance of words, were it not for the pencil and the graver; but aided by these means he conveys with undiminished accuracy the result of his most abstruse investigations to thousands of millions.... the collector of such engravings can hence form a complete cabinet of natural history" (Lecture Ip. 58). The similarities in the practice of the naturalist and the landscape painter had apparently not escaped Craig, and naturalists did collect such drawings for their cabinets.

The drawing manuals of John George Wood and Nathaniel Whittock, published in 1816 and 1825 respectively, rely heavily on Craig's instructions for the sections on tree drawing. Wood also uses a system of "elements" to teach the touch, while Whittock's text and drawings (particularly his plate of "characters") are virtually plagiarised.67

Form versus colour

I will conclude this chapter by looking at the teaching of tree drawing by John Laporte (1761-1839) and Louis Francia (1772- 1839) who were both of French origin but worked in England. Their teaching being geared specifically to watercolours, their manuals differ from all the others. A later teacher, James

67. Nothing other than his authorship of The Principles and Practice of Sketching Scenery from Nature "systematically arranged and illustrated by numerous examples" is known of Wood, although he exhibited at the Royal Academy from 1793 to 1811. Whittock was the third Oxford Drawing Master and called his manual Oxford Drawing Book. 239

Duffield Harding, also a watercolourist, expressed the view that learning to draw trees before attempting to paint them was the best preparation for "carrying their study on to colour" (1834 p. 59) .68 Laporte was a founder member of the Association of Artists in Watercolour and exhibited at the Royal Academy most years between 1778 and 1832. In the 1780s and 1790s he toured extensively, often on horseback.69 Among his students was Dr Thomas Monro, through whom he met Hearne.

We know rather more about Francia than some of the other authors thanks to a recent book by Marcia Pointon.70 In 1792 he was teaching in London at Joseph Charles Barrow's drawing school, and running his own by 1805; in 1799 he became a founder member and secretary of the 'Sketching Society'71 which met regularly (indoors), taking its sources from literature. Pointon remarks that Francia "does not seem to have been much at home in the genre of the historical landscape" and that apart from one, "all his exhibited works appear to have been based on nature rather than literature and to have been picturesque rather than poetic".72 In 1792 and 1800 Francia exhibited landscapes from sketching tours in Yorkshire and Wales at the Royal Academy, so he was also working direct from nature. His later English and French plein-air landscapes, as Pointon notes, are characterised by a more naturalistic approach.73 Even in composed work, he focuses closely on individual objects - for instance the trees in 'Landscape with Angler' (1804) although of indeterminate species, are manifestly growing plants. Pointon says of them: the foliage is treated in immense detail with small flicks of paint and the loving observation of these tree forms reminds us that, as is made evident in a number of pencil drawings, Francia was a keen observer of nature.74

68 . Locke's views on primary and secondary qualities provoked frequent debates on colour versus form in the art world. Many artists recognised the transitory and subjective nature of colour and believed, as Loudon did, that the pencil was better able to show specific characters. 69. Walker's Quarterly July 1922 p p . 10-16. 70. 1985. 7 1 . Now known as 'Girtin's Sketching Society'. 72. 1985 p . 93. 73. Ibid, p p . 99-119. 74. Ibid. p. 102. 240

The pencil sketch 'L'Etang sous bois'75 which Pointon shows as an example of his observational powers, is not a 'study' in the sense in which we have been considering the term but was probably drawn as an aide mémoire. Francia seems more interested in recording the pattern of lines formed by the trunks of the various trees and the clump of reeds in the foreground, and in the play of light on the trunks, than in reproducing a fully- considered representation of the trees. The foliage is also too sketchy to denote the species, but watercolourists such as Francia and Laporte tended to add detail to the foliage during the various stages of the colouring process rather than painting over detailed under-drawing. In spite of this, Francia's sketch is quite naturalistic and is evidently the work of someone with a habit of drawing trees from nature.

In Laporte's large gouache entitled 'View at Shalfleet, Isle of Wight: Forest Scenery with Cattle' (1790) (Fig. 105), the grouping of the trees and the first hints of autumn colouring are quite naturalistic and the general effect is very good. Although almost certainly worked up from sketches, it gives the impression of having been painted on the spot. From their overall shape and branching the trees appear to be oaks, but the configuration of the leaves is indistinct and suggests that Laporte has not studied them closely. It was reported in 1807 that Laporte's Characters of Trees (1798-1801) were so popular that the plates had worn to "little more than the shadow of things that were".76 They were issued without a text and those I have seen are in pencil and grey wash with a delicate handling of light and shade. They all exhibit an interest in shape and mode of growth and several are immediately recognisable, for instance a silver birch and some young oaks (whose foliage show the result of observation - a great improvement on the 1790 gouache).77

75. Undated but drawn in France after 1817 (Pointon ibid. p. 104) . 76. Quoted Bicknell 1988 p p . 11. 7 7 . V&A Silver Birch E103; Young Oak E105. 241

While Laporte's Characters are presented without any explanation or assistance with the process of study, it is significant that in Francia's manual Progressive Lessons Tending to Elucidate the Character of Trees, with the Process of Sketching and Painting them in Watercolours (1813) the finished watercolours of whole trees in landscape (Fig. 106) are preceded by a full page of detailed pencil drawings of the foliage of nine common species of trees (Fig. 107). These are each broken down into "the general appearance of the leaf... its connection on the branch... its general characteristic appearance on the tree" (text to Plate 1). In other words, Francia intends his students' "progression" to begin with a close study of the parts which fix the character of each tree - "that distinctive stamp or mark which, however slightly hinted at, still conveys to the beholder a full representation of the object intended...." (Advertisement p. 1) .

His scheme of study, including comparison "at all times" between the drawing, his examples, and dried specimens where available (pp. 1-2), is set out in the text accompanying his first plate: "examine leaf... copy examples... make free copy keeping character... draw it from recollection to acquire facility of expressing the character". "Use the pencil clearly and freely," .Francia says, and "make constant reference to the whole tree". Further elucidation is given in the text with each plate, for instance: The oak: the arrangement of the leaves in clusters of five or six tend to "project horizontally or even upwards"; the "abruptness of the branches" which denotes strength, and contrasts with the "pliability and buoyancy of the ash and elm". The elm: the leaves "from their smallness and closeness and quantity, acquire, at a distance, a rotundity in the appearance of the clusters"; the pliable branches, which "incline every way". The beech: its "sharp pointedness at the top and sweeping branches all the way down, elegantly striving to point upwards"; its bark "unlike all other trees... horizontal markings and gathering of moss." The ash: The circular character of the clusters of its leaves.

This system, and particularly the idea behind it, bears a resemblance to Craig's "Elements" (Fig. 104) and each has 242 something to recommend it. Craig's breakdown is more complete and he makes some attempt to show the leaf masses but neglects the spray; his approach emphasises the difficulties and the need to practice. Francia shows clearly the formation of the different types of leaf, how each group is attached to its twig (extending the scope of Gilpin's depictions), and the formation of the sprays but not of the larger masses. The elements are for use with the other plates and neither teacher achieves an entirely satisfactory explanation of the relationship between them but the main distinctions between species are demonstrated. Francia states that "it is not necessary to become a perfect Botanist, it is only requisite that there be sufficient resemblance, or character, in every tree we paint, or draw, as to be known and named by the spectator" (Advertisement p. 2). His drawings display his own knowledge and ability but make the process look easy and the beginner, finding the opposite to be the case, could become discouraged.

Laporte may have realised from his experience of teaching students to draw trees over twenty years that they required rather more help than his Characters had provided. His Progressive Lessons in Landscape Coloured (1815) , although again without text, has an excellent first plate of parts (in watercolour) which would have been very helpful in making comparisons between trees78 (Fig. 108). From top to bottom are presented and identified, for each tree: a small cluster of the foliage showing its general shape; a larger spray with some branching; end of a branch or top of tree (bare), showing the characteristic manner of growth of the ramification; and finally the trunk. Laporte has achieved reasonable results with the brush, giving a fairly accurate idea of the general shape of the larger masses and how they grow upon the branch, and whether they are drooping or upright, densely packed or well-spaced. The colouring of the foliage is very varied and natural-looking (but

78. It seems likely that he may have known Francis1s book since they appear to have moved in the same circles. 243 somewhat arbitrarily chosen in view of seasonal changes). Pencil under-drawing is minimal, providing little help with the touch for individual leaves or their combination in the clusters. Whereas Francia includes a colour chart ('Table of Tints') and mixing instructions, with directions for each tree, Laporte provides no additional help.

In the landscapes in Laporte's work the overall shape of the trees is good but the foliage is often reduced to "shorthand" and this destroys their naturalism and makes it impossible - without the title - to be certain of their type. Exceptions are the two oaks in the foreground of 'Boxhill' (no. 2). Francia's watercolours are of particular trees drawn on the spot - for instance in Hyde Park, the New Forest, at Hainault (Figs. 109 and 110) - and exhibit the results of his study. He is very good at indicating the general shape and manner of growth of each tree and the solidity and roundness of the trunk and main branches. His understanding of perspective and judgment of such things as the distance from the eye to the top of the tree or the main projecting branches, is excellent and the recession among the branches and masses of foliage is well observed. It is likely that the student would be able to see in the paintings something of the characters which Francia and Laporte isolate from nature, because the process of selection is a simplifying one. Communication of such things obviously depends in the first instance on the degree of understanding achieved by the teacher in his own practice.

These manuals reveal dissatisfaction with current ways of depicting trees and a conviction that landscape painters should know how to portray them recognisably. Tree drawing from nature was in its infancy in the period covered by these early works, so that the ingenious ideas they contain are not always fully explored. Nevertheless they incorporate knowledge of trees new to natural history and provide evidence of a new attitude to the 244 representation of nature not previously the concern of landscape painters.

The perception that nature could, and should, be depicted truthfully necessarily brought changes in drawing practice. The drawings of whole trees show the extent to which each artist achieved this. They also testify to the power of close observation and a great deal can therefore be learned from them, particularly by comparing them with the trees they purport to represent - which was clearly intended. Most are of limited practical assistance on their own, since they present a generalised image of each tree without the particulars from which this has been derived or the route by which it has been achieved - the successive stages of observation and learning to draw each type - undergone by the authors themselves. In other words, we see the results rather than the process. Their chief value for the student, therefore, would have been in directing attention to the idea of studying trees by indicating some differences between types, and thereby suggesting the need for close observation.

The innovations in these manuals resulted from an awareness of the distinctions between different types of tree and of the need to devise ways of representing them. Cozens, for instance, studied the overall structure of the various species he portrayed, understood what he saw, and communicated it with some success; Gilpin observed and recorded important information on another aspect of structure - the sprays - and perceived that their "peculiarities and distinctions" fix the character of each tree. It was left to others to begin to tackle the foliage problem. Craig's system of analysing the elements proved of lasting value, being adopted and refined by later authors in developing the "touch" for each tree.79 His method, while

79. See Pickstone on chemistry becoming "the exemplar of a new way of doing things" (1993 p. 443); see also his comments on analytical understandings as intermediate between natural history and experimentalist practices (1994 pp. 111-113). 245 limited, is the only one which suggests something of the stages of investigation undergone in the course of his study of the trees. The significance of Gilpin's discerning of general patterns and causes was also recognized by later authors.

It will have been noticed that these teachers were not working in isolation. They all exhibited landscapes, had many links with other professionals, and taught amateurs of considerable influence. Cozens's and Gilpin's teaching of tree drawing also reached those who were interested in aesthetics and the picturesque. Several of the manuals were reprinted and the anecdote of the plates of Laporte's tree studies wearing out shows that amateurs also wanted to learn to draw trees. 246

CHAPTER SEVEN Putting the stamp of nature on the work of art

The views and techniques discernible in the early manuals are consolidated in the works to be considered in this chapter. We do not know the precise extent of each author's awareness of earlier teaching. Gilpin's book is frequently quoted and it seems likely that Cozens's trees would have been known as part of his popular book on the blot technique; Craig's attempt to devise a system is an obvious model, although no direct reference is made to it. In the later works the study of trees takes the form of a systematic enquiry into their characters and patterns of growth, yielding a deeper knowledge of each genus. A thorough analysis of the structure of the various parts enables the whole to be put together correctly and shown at different distances without losing its essential character. Particular emphasis is placed on the connection between accurate vision and the truthful representation of nature.

The problems faced by those drawing trees from nature can be more readily understood from the very detailed exposition of the progressive method of teaching in the manuals by Edward Kennion and James Duffield Harding. Strutt's lesson on drawing oaks and Loudon's teaching establish what naturalists came to require in terms of the accurate portrayal of species, enabling us to judge how well artists succeeded in this. The teaching of Harding and his pupils, John Ruskin and George Barnard, confirms that a consensus was reached among artists and their public with regard to tree drawing from nature.

The manuals of Kennion and Harding in particular provide insights into how they learned themselves and how, by constant study and practice they refined their knowledge of trees and drawing skills to the point at which they could be communicated to others. What emerges is an awareness of the active processes of this type of investigation and especially of the relation between knowledge of the trees and correct depiction of them. 247

^vt-ails. feathers- moos. brooms and caulif lowers. an Rssav nil Trees in Landscape (1815) by Edward Kennion (1743- 1809) provided the fullest account to date, in the text and drawings, of the processes involved in tree drawing from nature. Although the Essay appeared two years after Francia's, it was probably in preparation in the 1790s and therefore reveals changing attitudes to the depiction of nature at the end of the eighteenth century. The long text reiterates identified attitudes and expresses more fully and clearly the principles governing the naturalistic drawing of trees. It also affords many new insights of scientific interest and further practical innovations - in fact it provides the best practical assistance for the depiction of the different tree species before the mid 1830s, especially in its very detailed exposition and demonstration of the "touch" for the foliage of each tree, briefly mentioned by Malchair and Craig.

The work, which consists of fifty plates with "explanations" and a long text, was published posthumously by an anonymous editor,1 although it had apparently been completed by Kennion himself as part of a major treatise on landscape painting planned for publication in 1804 (p. iii) . Twenty years later Loudon mentioned it in the Arboretum, indicating that it reached a wider audience than was originally intended, but its impact on landscape painters might have been greater had its publication not been delayed. Loudon commended it, together with Gilpin's PomarVs on Forest Scenery, for a "scientific knowledge of the touch of trees", commenting that these were "almost the only works which have noticed the subject and gone beyond the mere surface". He nevertheless criticised most of Kennion's engravings for bearing "not the slightest resemblance to the

1 Possibly Kennion's son Charles or Hugh William Williams (1773-1829) some of whose plates are added at the end. Williams was elected to the Associated Artists in Watercolour in 1806 and exhibited in Edinburgh 1810-1816, having some success with his Highland views (Hardie 1966-68 Voi. Ill p. 176). 248 trees the names of which are written beneath them".2 This is somewhat harsh criticism since the whole trees are nearly all recognisable, although they do not stand up well in comparison to Strutt's, treated by Loudon as exemplars. Kennion, however, did not achieve the subtlety of execution he advocated, so that his undoubted knowledge of the trees failed to receive the expression it justified. Some of the engravings were done by his son Charles, possibly even without Kennion's guidance, and this will not have helped. Loudon, however, wished to emphasise the uniqueness of the plates in the Arbpretum.; in fact, he drew extensively on Kennion's work (without acknowledgement) in his own chapter on tree drawing.

Kennion declares trees to be "more difficult and less known than any other part of landscape" and to have qualified himself to teach the subject "by many years of close and unremitting study".3 m the Essay he is highly critical of their portrayal by painters, asking why trees, "more important in landscape than men or animals", instead of being given their "distinguishing characters" are depicted "under the same general scrawl called a tree" (p. 8); he deplores their "ignorant" handling by earlier artists, including Titian and Claude (p. 2). Copying such examples led to a "broad or lumpish style... with no likeness of anything existing" (p. 3) and "a manner that can easily be acquired without knowledge or abilities whatsoever", as in the use of "a multitude of dots" arising "from imagining nature rather than studying it" (p. 4). "Tree drawing," he complains, "is a study that has eluded every practitioner down to the present age" (p. 11)# a tree is generally thought to be an object so fully delivered over to the will of the Artist, and so little depending on any determinable character of lines or form that it may be represented in any manner, run out in any direction, or patched and mended in any way that may seem convenient, but of trees on the principles of nature it will be found that the reverse in every particular is the truth (p. 1)•

2 AFB 1835-38 Vol. I p p . 13-14. Gilpin did not in fact discuss the touch, but his demonstration that knowledge of the spray is the clue to understanding a tree's growth patterns might have stimulated ideas leading to its creation. 3 Prngcectus p p . iii-iv, published 1803 and quoted by the Editor. 249

Furthermore, frequently we find a stem, with some crooked waving poles stuck in it for branches, on which are placed the likenesses of foxtails, feathers, mops, brooms, cauliflowers.... (p. 7). He recalls a "much talked of landscape" exhibited in 1794, in which the trees were extolled as good representations of beech; the artist, however, was "much affronted" since he "intended them for elms". Kennion comments that the difference between these two species would be obvious to the "attentive observer of nature" (p. 34).4

The assumptions underlying the text reinforce the importance of close study apparent in the earlier manuals. Kennion's intensive observation of different "species" is set out in detail, revealing the stages of his study and his additional insights into the trees' growth and structure. His idea of "truthful" representation is fully expressed so that we can see how drawing trees from nature is connected with the wider issues of contemporary art and science. The "minute attention to parts by the botanists" and "the study of objects in the aggregate, which is that of the painter" are specifically contrasted by Kennion (p 40). It would seem, however, that the opposition suggested by this comment relates to the scaling down required in representations rather than to a distinction between the two approaches. The emphasis throughout is on first learning to draw different parts of trees in order to express the character of the whole accurately and with understanding - although, as he points out, in a landscape painting minuteness is almost always inappropriate. While the reproductive parts are ignored, all Kennion's drawings of parts are accurately depicted and he appears to have made a conscious effort to be scientific through close observation and accurate recording. Kennion occasionally uses botanical phraseology - "distinguishing characters" (p. 8), »pine tribe" (p. 22) - and at one point, when discussing the

4 Neither the Royal Academy catalogue nor reviews of the 1794 exhibition confirm to which painting he refers. The two landscapes which attracted most attention were by J.W. Abbott and Sir George Beaumont; the latter certainly had difficulties with foliage. 250 digitate leaf of the horse chestnut (p. 4 0) , he quotes from Rousseau's Letters on Botany.5 The word "structure" appears for the first time in a tree manual, in a reference to the "pinnated or compound leaf" of the ash (pp. 31-32), shown on his Plates XV and XVI (a more distant view) (Fig. 117).

Kennion acquired an interest in observing and sketching plants in the West Indies as a young man, where he "studied botany"6 and formed a lifelong habit of sketching from nature. On his return he undertook painting tours in the Lake District and elsewhere (1772-73) in the company of George Barret RA (the elder, c. 1728-1784). Barret had important patrons, including fellow irishman Edmund Burke, and his work sold well (in contrast to that of his contemporary Richard Wilson). Redgrave later called his pictures "memories of other men's works, rather than the outcome of the painter's own observation of Nature".7 8 The trees in those I have seen show little sign of study, but possibly this reflects a general taste for idealised nature rather than inability on his part. Although Barret encouraged Kennion, and his protégé considered him "the first artist who ever truly felt the character of trees", he also declared that Barret's "productions... do not afford that species of truth which offers a clear guide to the copier" (p. 9). This indicates Kennion's own intention, although, as we shall see, copying (from his drawings of parts) is only a stage of learning to draw trees "on the principles of nature". In the 1780s Kennion began preparing his treatise on painting and establishing himself in London as a teacher. He continued to sketch from nature, however, publishing some etchings of oaks in 1790 and several antiquarian and "perspective views" throughout the decade. Elected a Fellow of the Society of Artists in 1790, he exhibited at the Royal Academy between 1790 and 1807.®

5. First English edition 1785. 6. Editor's introduction p. iii. 7. 1866 p. 47. 8. Kennion provided the landscapes for some of the cloud sketches used by Luke Howard in lectures and publications in 1802-23 (Science Museum). 251

Tht? aesi-Vigtics of tree drawing

The text and the "explanations" of the drawings present the principles governing Kennion's practice and are intended to provide "a clear verbal description" which will assist the "power of imitation", since "the differences between the examples and what is usually performed for trees may perhaps not be immediately perceived by those who have not yet learned to see" (pp• 27-28).

Although learning to see is the first step in learning to draw trees from nature, for Kennion, understanding which will lead to the necessary knowledge of the various species requires more than observation since "seeing nature is very far from furnishing the means of imitation" (p. 7). Kennion writes of "feeling the habit [of growth] and character" of each species to assist in the acquisition of "the correct touch to produce truth" and of the "beauty which can arise if one possesses a picturesque fancy" (p. 14), indicates that feeling and aesthetic awareness are also desirable in addition to technical ability. Use of the term "fancy" is in keeping with Kennion's generally eighteenth-century attitude to aesthetics.9 A tension exists between these received ideas and his obvious feeling for nature. Although for Kennion feeling is synonymous with taste (p. 29), he also stresses its importance in producing aesthetically pleasing yet truthful representations; "every tree" he says, "must form and grow in the imagination before it can possibly grow from the pencil" (p. 9). This pre-romantic sensibility, and the importance given to originality brings to mind the poetry and theories of Wordsworth and Coleridge. Kennion believes that imitation of another's work, providing it is truthful, will assist execution, but that "all that is poetical in the art must be original, or it cannot fail of sinking into littleness of manner". However, he admits that originality is "so very rare as

9 . 'Fancy' was an eighteenth-century term for the imagination, linked to the mechanical association of ideas by David Hartley in Observations on Man 1749. Coleridge later distinguished between fancy and the imagination (Biographia T.iteraria 1817 (1975 p p . xii, 50, 167). 252

scarcely to be expected in any but those whose minds nature has peculiarly fitted for this kind of conception" (p. 21). He thus seems to believe that only those with special gifts - of imagination and feeling perhaps - can produce tree drawings which could be considered works of art.

For those landscape painters such as Kennion, concerned with depicting the truth of nature, expressive qualities, stemming from the imagination, are seen as enhancing the study of nature, not replacing it. We have only to look at the wide difference of styles in the tree drawing of two exemplars of naturalistic depiction, Strutt (Figs. 52-55) and Constable (Figs. 93 and 106), to be aware that individuality is not necessarily a stumbling-block. As Kennion says, If there be an excellence that is not natural, it must be entirely imaginary and altogether without use... since there is nothing to which it can be referred or by which it can be judged (p. 21).

The value of a landscape painting for Kennion, as we have seen, lies in the extent to which it represents the truth of nature,- paintings or drawings of trees which accurately express a species' characters, and can therefore be favourably compared with their source in nature, have a use beyond the aesthetic yet not distinct from it. The artist should aim for an "expressive unity or general intelligence, which at once can give value to representation" (p. 18). Proper observation can remedy inaccuracies based on misconceptions - such as making those parts seen against the sky faint and transparent and those in the centre dark and strong (giving the appearance of the parts having been taken from different trees) (p. 18), or a melting into the distance, "a notion... wholly contrary to the habits and appearance of nature" (p. 19). Practical problems - for instance a lack of proportion between the parts and the whole, an inability to indicate a tree's roundness (p. 29), or a "labouring after parts" (inexperienced artists "do too much") (p. 23) - can be cured by continual practice and refinement of the judgment (p. 18). On the other hand, "selection and display [of the parts] at once and unequivocally fixes the character of the artist, both in his capacity and his knowledge" (p. 27). 253

On the principles of nature

Perhaps Kennion's most important discussion, since it was - and often still is - considered the prerogative of science, is his attitude to "truth". For Kennion truth is not rooted in the Platonic Forms (as in landscape based on classic principles) nor is it a poetic emanation from the imagination, although the imagination is important.10 "The only circumstance which can render it [landscape painting] at all valuable as an art... is to exhibit the truth of nature... the foundation of all rational pleasure" must be "the truth observable" in the work (p. 21). Kennion's remarks on truth imply that a faithful representation of nature can be achieved. For Kennion, and later teachers, there are facts about the appearances of natural phenomena such as trees which can be known (observed and understood) and stated (represented in a drawing or painting) truthfully. Craig and Francia suggested this, without being so specific. However, total concentration on "facts" produces a "constant tendency to a stiff and dry execution" (p. 21) and also, clearly, only limited knowledge; truthful depiction requires full under standing of the relationships between facts.

Barret's tree drawing lacked sufficient "truth" to act as a model but Kennion never advocates copying nature. Although most theoreticians by this period interpreted the theory of representation - or mimesis - as 'imitation' rather than strict copying,11 the editor of the Essay falls into a common error in praising Kennion's ability to "copy" nature (p. ix). In fact, Kennion always speaks of "imitating" nature, asserting that "copying from nature is impossible... the infinity perplexes" (pp. 11-12) . What is represented in a painting can therefore only be "impressions", therefore it is vital to "cultivate the capacity to receive them" (p. 12). His stress on the effect of the first impression of a tree (p. 23), emphasises the

10. In Discourse VII Reynolds' equates truth with taste, although one aspect of its appeal is the "representation of any object with the thing represented" (1905 pp. 190-191). 11. But see Gombrich (1960 p. 121). 254 significance of the whole tree and of the relation of the parts to the whole; it is also an oblique reference to the importance of selection - since the eye is only able to take in so much in the first instance.

"Truth to nature" came later to be understood as advocating copying nature in minute detail and has sometimes been attacked for suggesting that two-dimensional paintings of the surface appearances of objects and events in nature could represent the whole truth concerning those things. Kennion, however, does not imply this when he asserts that knowledge of trees should be attained by studying them and that such knowledge can be represented in landscape painting. All representational art deals with appearance in some sense; landscape painting being concerned most particularly with surface appearances.12 Drawing from nature must also take account of changing effects of colour and of light and shade. For Kennion, exhibiting the "truth of nature" can only be achieved through close observation; he continually reiterates the need to refine the vision and to acquire a "cultivated eye which has surveyed nature with attention" (p. 28). This attitude shapes his whole method.

Such a shift in perception was bound to lead to a change in drawing practice. With nature as guide, the tree itself suggests the means - the appropriate touch - by which it is to be represented. A truthful depiction can only result from a full understanding of the characters and patterns of growth. This will become clearer as we look at his detailed discussion and drawings of each species. Study led Kennion to the realisation that a tree is a living plant, belonging to a particular species (p. 6), with its own specific characters (p. 5ff) and stages of growth (p. 6). He recognises that environmental factors affect the growth of individual trees or groups of one particular species, and may cause modifications in their characters (pp. 11-13) . However, like several earlier authors, he is

12. Although, in the case of trees, other things such as internal structure, age, effect or soil and climate, may be inferred from the outward appearance. 255

aware that Every species of tree has a character of its own, which is clearly prescribed through all the infinite variety of forms to which the individuals are subject... as different and as obvious as in animals and more important in landscape than men or animals (pp. 6 and 8).

Kennion's Essay encompasses two stages: the artist's own learning process, and the communication of practical procedures, based on the knowledge acquired. This is true of all the manuals, but the stages are more clearly defined here. Firstly, the text and drawings represent a refined version of Kennion's own investigations of trees, carried out over a period of years, and his insights into the different species. They also offer practical advice based on a comparative method of observation and a progressive system of drawing instruction.

Close observation of the trees and an explorative use of the pencil, which requires constant interaction between the hand the eye, allows Kennion to compare his acquired knowledge with that of his contemporaries, and to criticise his students constructively. His critique of current practice encourages awareness of faults in contemporary paintings and prints. Regular comparison of their own work with his drawings, as well as with growing trees - to ensure their "truthfulness" - should enable them to acquire a greater depth of understanding of distinctive characters. The manual is designed to teach aspiring landscape painters ultimately to see for themselves; "increasing knowledge will confirm and advance a practice which has its principles rightly founded" (p. 20). The essential principle to be grasped for the naturalistic depiction of trees, according to Kennion and later authors including Loudon, is that of the correct "touch" for the foliage of each species. This will be discussed fully in the final chapter but it is important to stress here that Kennion's "correct touch [which] will produce truth" (p. 14) must be derived from the character of the tree itself. 256

Since a representation of a tree cannot be a factual copy, the landscape painter must learn to execute by "general expression.... which alludes to rather than particularises the idea" (pp. 7 and 19). It follows that the smaller the drawing the more generalised the image must be (p. 18). This is the crux of the matter when depicting whole trees in middle or far distance. Richard Redgrave, writing in 1866, had this to say about it: Generalisation does not mean an attempt to fuse the specific character of any two or more objects into one, but the omission of those details the representation of which, small in themselves, becomes mean or absolutely impossible on the reduced scale of the picture. No one will doubt that he who has thoroughly studied the details of the form will give the general impression of it more truly from that study (p. 42).

Kennion's approach to generalisation is based, like Craig's, on analysing the parts, but his drawings and explanation are more explicit. The purpose of study, for both, is to inform the painter's work; on this view a generalised depiction derived from observation will be closer to the truth of nature than one which is not. Kennion attaches great importance to acquiring a knowledge of the "prevailing shape" of each species, which "can never be violated without offence to either taste or truth" (p. 23). While first impressions are important, at a distance, and particularly in certain light conditions, the kind of tree is distinguishable only by its shape. The ability to portray this generalisation with fidelity "discovers the genius of the artist" (p. 23).

Kennion's plates of oak foliage encapsulate the process he follows from the particular to the general. The nearest view of a spray of oak leaves on his Plate I (Fig. Ill) exhibits their "form", as though in a botanical drawing (see also the spray of elm on Plate VIII (Fig. 114)). On Plate II (Fig. 112), the leaves - "a degree further distant" - are "still apparent but exhibited more in aggregate" (p. 45); the same subject is repeated yet further away on the right of Plate III (Fig. 113). Complete oaks appear on several other plates, for example Plate VII (Fig. 115). This sequence demonstrates that although 257 individual features of the leaves are lost as the tufts merge with increasing distance, the "starry quality" (p. 29) characteristic of oak foliage is retained. (See also the landscape by Kennion, in which the main group of oaks is slightly further away (Fig. 116).) As Kennion says, "the smaller we make our drawing or picture, the more must the expression be thrown into general hints" which will require "the greatest judgment and experience" (p. 13).

The need to generalise was not only the business of the poet or the painter, it was also a major concern of the naturalist, since the more universal the generalisation the greater its value. The recognition and classification of species is based on knowledge of essential characters; according to the Linnaean sexual system, this concerned the reproductive parts only. The adoption of the natural system enabled other criteria to be taken into account, making trees more relevant to botanists,- a description of a species would generally include information on the growth and structure of the whole tree. Gilpin's stress on the character of the sprays and Kennion's on the character of the foliage, in fixing the overall character of a species, were therefore of great importance to the generalised image.

observation directs performance

Kennion, like the earlier teachers, recommends the student to begin by studying the "branching", since this is "generally unknown"; trunks are "often well executed in prints"13 but "the character of smaller branching is universally mistaken" (p. 15). The more prolific, the more care must be taken in their selection - by observing their characteristic growth patterns. Although Kennion does not discuss this subject at great length, the manner in which he draws the trunks and branches indicates the importance he attaches to the study of basic structure. Plates of trees with and without leaves are included, "to show

13. For an explanation of this, see discussion in Chapter Six above. 258 the student the different character of branching which each kind assumes" (p. 16) as well as its "prevailing shape" (p. 23) in summer and winter. Cozens combined both aspects in his "skeletons" (Fig. 85), but Kennion's approach is followed by Loudon. His serious attitude to study is confirmed by other observations: trunks and branches do not diminish as the carrot does by visibly tapering, but by parting or division, the size only being reduced very little before division takes place (p. 16) . Such things had not previously concerned landscape painters; they confirm a view of the necessary relationship between detailed knowledge of the trees and correct depiction of them. This was expressed earlier by Craig and demonstrates the difference in the approach of these painters to most of their contemporaries.

The Essay shows that Kennion observed the trees closely. His drawings and explanations of the ramifications improve on the earlier manuals in dealing with problems of selection, proportion and perspective. Regarding selection, the plates for oak and ash, for example, exhibit only those ramifications necessary "to serve to give the general idea of the species" (p. 14) (Figs. 113 and 117). "Agreement of the parts" is vital; the proportion of the branches to the trunk and to each other, and of the foliage to the branches which support it, must always be consistent with the tree as a whole, and also with the position of the artist (p. 21). Kennion complains that "even in the best engraved trees... every part of the leafing is equally finished" (p. 24), whereas depictions should indicate the difference in size of foliage near to the eye and that at the top of the tree (see Figs. 115 and 116) . He also explains that if the leaves of a full-grown oak are individually detailed in a drawing, that drawing cannot also contain the whole tree (p. 22). As I have pointed out, Kennion always includes examples of the leaves and tufts of the different trees at various distances to minimise such errors. Another common fault - the result of a failure of vision - is the portrayal of the "projecting parts of trees... as if beneath the eye", when in fact "trees whose 259 branches are not pendant, standing near the eye, show the undersides of all the bold projecting parts that are above the horizontal line" (p. 27) (see figure 24 on his Plate XVI and figure 19 on Plate IX (Figs. 117 and 118) . Knowledge of the relative density or otherwise of the foliage of each species, which can also be ascertained from these drawings, contributes to the effectiveness with which the shape is imparted.

In order to represent depth, branches must be shown growing on the far side of the tree and those extending towards the artist must be correctly foreshortened (the latter technique should be familiar from life drawing classes). Roundness and solidity of the trunk and branches, and depth and recession within the foliage masses, are achieved by shading and Kennion's drawings are helpful in this respect. The extent to which a tree drawing will appear natural will depend largely on the handling of light and shade, since it is this which confers "agreement of parts" (p. 22). Kennion discusses the importance of consistency in the stroke "to produce the masses of shadow with black lead pencil" (p. 45) (see figure 13, Plate IX for elm (Fig. 118)) . "Heavy extended shadows" opposed to lights destroy lightness; darks should only be recesses; the "expression of parts in the lights ought to be more particularly characteristic as they are more seen and if erroneous more offensive" (p. 24). We know that this problem required great skill to overcome and it will be referred to again in the discussion of the touch.

Kennion's Plates VII, IX and XVI (Figs. 115, 118 and 117) may be compared with Strutt's (Fig. 54), Burgess's (Fig. 69) and with Constable's early and later attempts (Figs. 91-93). He makes it harder for himself by always drawing with the sun immediately behind him (Loudon and Harding would later both recommend that the sun's rays should fall over the left shoulder). Kennion explains that while, in drawings, the lights are achieved by leaving the paper blank, and only very striking distinctions of character can be depicted, in paintings, light is "laid on", allowing very slight differences to be shown, (p. 26) . 260

Capturing something of the movement and play of light and shade which constantly affect the appearance of trees, while retaining the character of the foliage of each species, is also very difficult. He points out that to produce the lightness and airy play of foliage according to the character to the tree, without dotting and flutter, and at the same time the masses of tufting without heaviness is what has never yet been taught in drawing and has seldom been performed by the pencil in any way (p. 6).

Unfortunately Kennion lacks the skills necessary to achieve this himself, in spite of his understanding of what is required. Later teachers' work is vastly superior to Kennion's in this respect, assisted by more sophisticated printing techniques, and some Constable drawings remind us what is possible (Figs. 93 and 136-137). Kennion explains the tuft as "a little bundle or aggregate of leaves growing together on one general stalk" which makes a "distinct part". We have seen how the aim in drawing trunks and branches is to give the impression of their solidity; here, in contrast, lightness and flexibility is what is required, yet the difficulty is indicated by the word "masses" which accurately expresses the sheer amount of leaves in the combined tufts of the full summer foliage. Students should observe the prevailing tendency of the leaves, particularly when they are gathered in large parcels or masses, when they will be found to favour some certain configuration in every tree according to its kind, from which it never departs (p. 16) .

The clue to understanding these configurations and the specific touch to portray them, including their lightness and flexibility, lies in attending first to the tufts as individual parts. Kennion's progressive method is most apparent here: observing, learning the touch, combining touches to form the tufts, extending these into masses, and finally, forming a unified whole - to be expressed at various distances. This is set out in the drawings for the oak, ash and elm respectively (Figs. 113 and 117-118), demonstrating both the derivation and execution of the touch. 261

At every stage comparison plays a vital role in the route to knowledge of trees. Young and mature trees of the same species are compared, revealing that lighter foliage is often characteristic of the latter, producing a more open appearance. Considerable variety also occurs "in figure and disposition as a whole, also in the size and quantity of leaves", where trees are "not flourishing" (p. 29). Species frequently confused with one another - such as the oak and the elm; the plane and alder; the beech, birch and lime; the spruce and larch - are depicted together in landscapes, as they might appear in nature. Kennion discusses in detail how to distinguish between them at a distance and points out the effects of variations in soil and situation; elms, for instance, are more affected by these circumstances than any other tree and with increasing age can come to resemble oaks (p. 30). Such things persuade Kennion that, with the exception of portraits of particular trees, the painter should "adhere to uniformity of character" since it would be self-defeating to "copy imperfections" (pp. 25 and 31). This suggests that the resulting depictions would not only be unattractive but could obscure essential aspects which the painter should attempt to communicate - the characters which distinguish them from one another. Deviation caused by variations in soil and "local causes" persuaded Kennion that painters should "adhere to uniformity of character" since it would be self-defeating to "copy imperfections" (p. 31). Loudon also advocated drawing the best possible specimens (Arboretum Vol. I p. 207).

Through his investigations Kennion made many significant discoveries which had not been noticed - or articulated - in previous manuals and were of potential interest to the naturalist. His long exposition of the theory and practice of tree depiction "on the principles of nature" is set against a critique of past and current practice which will have been very helpful to the student. Kennion's chief innovation was a detailed explanation of the touch but he also examined more fully the groupings of the leaves - the tufts. Breaking down the parts and recombining them into wholes demonstrated the 262 possibilities for the portrayal of the complete tree as a unity of accurate knowledge. Loudon's familiarity with the Essay, the use he made of it in his own discussions, and his commendation of Kennion's knowledge of the touch, suggest its importance to the production of the Arboretum, including the vast number of plates of whole trees. It also confirms the contribution of landscape painters to the study of trees.

11 Putting the stamp of nature on the work of art"14

The artist Loudon considered "unquestionably the best delineator of trees in this or any other country",15 Jacob George Strutt, wrote an article on drawing oaks which appeared in 1828 in Loudon's Magazine of Natural History.16 As far as we know Strutt did not take pupils and Svlva Britannica and Deliciae Silvarum, on which his reputation was built, contained no practical instruction. However, the drawings possess an authority derived from a thorough understanding of the trees, acquired through close and prolonged study, and from the skill and confidence with which he communicates that knowledge (Figs. 64-67) . Although Kennion's knowledge was probably as great, Strutt's technical skill was far superior. His drawings invite comparison with the trees in nature, especially as they all represent particular trees. They were not intended (and were far too complex) for copying, but they contain many lessons for those drawing from nature - at the very least they will have suggested that study could lead to an alternative way of depiction. Landscape painters and others with an interest in trees would have recognised (as we can now) that Strutt, like Kennion and Craig, was working according to different criteria to those traditionally accepted for the landscape genre.

14. Gilbert Burnett 1827 p. 4. It will be remembered that Burnett called Strutt a natural historian. 15. AFB Vol. Ill p. 1790. 16. Vol. I pp- 37-42 and p p . 242-248. Further articles were planned on other forest trees but never appeared. 263

In introducing Strutt to the reader, Loudon is highly critical of "the want of distinctive character" in most representations of trees. He complains that most artists are content to produce "variations of a few general and vague forms of masses of foliage, trunks, branches and spray and make no attempt to represent any particular species" (p. 37). It seems that, in spite of the increasing number of painters drawing from nature, many either neglected to pay sufficient attention to what they saw, or continued to think in terms of improving on nature in some way in their finished work. Loudon argues that "the spectator ought to be able to distinguish the sort of tree in the picture with the same facility with which he distinguishes it in the reality" and says, recalling Kennion, that "trees are not represented with the same truth and fidelity as animals, buildings or other objects", no doubt because most landscape painters live in cities and "pay very little attention to natural history as a science". "This study," he goes on, would "prevent the violation of truth and nature in the works of our first artists" not only in the kinds of trees "but in their situations in regard to soil, surface, water and other trees and plants". He places Strutt, however, with Constable, Alexander Nasmyth, George Fennell Robson and "a few others", whom he considers capable in this respect, recommending Strutt's work as though readers will already be familiar with it (pp. 37-38),17

John Constable subscribed to the complete version of Sylva n-ri tannica of 1826 and the work was still among his books at the time of his death.18 Constable and Strutt came from the same part of Essex and were also near neighbours for several years in London, in Charlotte Street and Percy Street respectively. They may have met earlier but between 1823-26 the Strutts are mentioned several times in Constable's correspondence with his wife and it appears they were friends since there are references

17 By this time a cheaper quarto edition of Svlva Britannica and Deliciae .q-i Tvarum, with simpler plates, had been published (1828) which had presumably reached a wider audience. 18. Parris et al 1975 p. 36. The year 1822 on the title page of this edition is the date of the first issue. 264 to a theatre visit and "taking tea" as well as to the two men calling on each other.19 Strutt is said to have "followed Constable's manner successfully"20 and it/been suggested that he may have been a pupil of Constable's,21 although there appears to be no concrete evidence for this. Nevertheless, they would have seen each other's exhibited work and possibly sketches and might have exchanged views on drawing trees from nature.22 On 26 November 1825 Constable wrote to his wife that "Strutt called to know how he should compose from his pen to his book of trees".23 Seeking advice on the text, Strutt must surely have been influenced by, or felt some affinity for, Constable's manner of tree depiction, while his own concentration on tree studies over the previous five years and his extensive knowledge may also have proved valuable to his friend. Constable's sense of isolation is well documented and he probably welcomed the chance to associate with a fellow landscape painter, and near neighbour, holding similar views.

Strutt's article on the oak, illustrated by drawings "acquired by diligent study in the living academies of nature - the groves and forests of our native country", aims to instruct readers in its "most striking peculiarities" and "the mode best adapted for their delineation" in landscape (p. 39). He comments on virtually all the areas identified by previous teachers of tree drawing as being vital for a truthful depiction: the "habit of accurate perception" necessary for "originality", the need to depict the general appearance of a species at different distances (whether singly or in groups), the "anatomy" of the trunk and ramifications, and the particular touch to express the character of the foliage.

19 . Beckett 1962-68 Vol. II P P . 304-429. 20. Williamson 1964 Vol. V p. 138. 21. Benezit 1976 Vol. IX p. 875. 22 Strutt exhibited at the British Institution and Royal Academy 1820-1850. Apart from landscapes, Constable exhibited studies of trees, for example, the drawing 'Elms in Old Hall Park' (Fig. 93) in 1818 and 'A Study of Trees from Nature' (an oil, now identified as 'Trees at Hampstead') in 1822 (Reynolds 1973 p p • 118 and 142)- Constable's letters reveal that he often showed his sketches to visitors to his studio (and occasionally lent them for copying). 23 Beckett op. cit. p. 414. The date confirms this as Sylva Britannica. 265

He divides trees into "classes" according to their general shape to facilitate recognition (in effect, what Cozens and Kennion had done earlier). "Round-topped" is characteristic of the oak, chestnut, elm, willow, ash, beech, etc. (whose contours in winter still conform to this); while "spiry-topped" characterises the fir tribe, shaggy-topped" the pines and "slender-formed" the Lombardy poplar and the cypress (p. 4 0) . The oak is discussed generally as a forest tree representing the first of the above classes - its "beauty united with strength", the contrast between the "abrupt and tortuous irregularity of its massive branches" with the "general richness and density of its clustered foliage", the "firmness and vigour" which are indicated even as a sapling, and finally its slow growth and propensity to attain a great age, unrivalled for "majestic and venerable decay" (p. 40). These observations of growth patterns would all suggest its picturesque qualities to the landscape painter. Strutt then indicates how these should be delineated at different distances, distinguishing the "round, boldish lines" necessary to express its "luxuriant and spreading character" and masses of foliage (p. 40) from the "greater variety of line" required for closer work to express the energy and strength of the trunk and the comparative shortness and crookedness of the branches. He also comments on, and illustrates, the tendency of oaks to horizontality and the great variations, often due to age, between the density of foliage and stature of individual oaks (p. 41) .24

"The more minute peculiarities and distinction of the oak, the character of its spray, the ramification of its branches and the peculiar and individual appearances of its foliage" are then dealt with. Strutt, too, finds an analogy with life drawing fruitful, urging the artist not to draw one "without a scientific regard to the anatomy of its form" - which would be like drawing Hercules without muscles (pp. 242-4) . His "diligent

24. He omits the effects of soil and climate (which, however, had been discussed by Loudon in his introduction). 266 study" enables him, with the assistance of sketches, to make comments on the spray, which provide further insights into its structure and growth. For instance, an understanding of the reason for the oak's horizontal tendency: The spray seldom shoots from the lower or underside of the branches, which, added to the roughness and strength of their component parts, enables the branches to stretch out and maintain their horizontal position, not unfrequently even to the very last twig; although sometimes from the great weight of the foliage, and perhaps from some difference in the species of the tree, an oak may be found with pendant boughs (pp. 243-4) .

This phenomenon had been mentioned by Kennion without explanation, although Gilpin had drawn attention to it. Strutt's drawing of the spray of the oak (Fig. 119) is very similar to Gilpin's own (Fig. 99) and we know that Remarks on Forest, Scenery was an important influence. He quotes Gilpin extensively on the detail of the smaller parts and especially his description of the colours of the oak at different seasons, showing that he endorses Gilpin's views. Once again we see an emphasis on the link between close observation and what is perceived as 'truthful' representation; Gilpin's knowledge is, he says, evidence of "the attention and minuteness with which a lover of nature will examine a favourite object, and the truth with which he will consequently be enabled to describe it". The artist, Strutt says, must have an instinctive feeling for colour since it cannot be taught, but without study no attempt will succeed (p. 245). Gilpin's insights, first published in 1791, were still valuable to those interested in trees well into the nineteenth century. It is very interesting that records - both verbal and visual - of close observation of natural history subjects, especially of the calibre of Gilpin's or Gilbert White's, remain of value long after their first appearance.25 For this to occur something beyond mere technical excellence is necessary - a quality of expression, perhaps.

25. See Neve and Porter 1977 on the value of eighteenth-century field observations to later geologists (pp. 37-38). 267

Loudon's use of Strutt's "touch of oak" (Fig. 120) in his own article on tree drawing indicates his approval of Strutt's derivation of the touch from his knowledge of the oak's foliation; it also suggests that Strutt's drawings and comments embody the essential knowledge of oaks. Most of Strutt's remarks on the oak's life cycle and changing characteristics at different ages are relevant to naturalists reading The Magazine nf Natural History, as well as to artists. Like Gilpin and Kennion, Strutt points out the altered appearance of trees when growing singly or close together and the need to take into account the relative distances from the eye when drawing. They both connect the outward appearance, or 'anatomy' of the species (the concern of the landscape painter) with its specific structure (the concern of the botanist). At the end of this article, a page of text (and botanical drawings "looked over" by George Don) entitled "The Botanical Characters of the Common Oak (i.e. the generic)" is appended by Loudon (p. 248) to initiate the "inexperienced botanist" into the "scientific part of botany" (p. 38). This reinforced Loudon's conviction that dendrology should "embrace the whole subject" and indicates a view that botanists would benefit from the wide knowledge of trees acquired by a painter like Strutt. Conversely, Loudon remarks that landscape painters should know some botany, as well as zoology and geology.

In spite of limitations imposed by space and the author's inexperience, Strutt's article and the accompanying illustrations contain sufficient knowledge of oaks to help the landscape painter with aspirations to working in a naturalistic mode to learn to observe. It contains some practical hints but perhaps the chief value of the text and the drawings is in Strutt's selection of the oak's distinguishing characters from the great mass of detail comprising the tree in nature. 268

The power of concentrated knowledge

Several further innovations in teaching practice were introduced by James Duffield Harding (1794-1863) in 1834, notably his demonstrations of right and wrong ways of drawing tree foliage. His knowledge of the trees is probably equivalent to Kennion's but the confidence with which he communicates very detailed instructions for using the pencil with the correct movement of the hand surpasses all his predecessors. It greatly increases our understanding of the skills involved in tree drawing from nature. The changed tone of his 1852 manual confirms that consensus regarding the study of nature has been reached.

Harding was a student of the topographer and watercolourist Samuel Prout (1783-1852) and his father had been taught by Paul Sandby,26 so drawing from nature would no doubt have been part of his training from an early age. He became a member of the Society of Painters in Watercolour in 1821, published numerous manuals and was a widely respected teacher, known for the delicacy and expressiveness of his tree drawings.27 Ruskin, Harding's pupil, greatly admired them for observing "with more truth than any other work of the kind, the great laws of growth and action in trees".28 His management of light and shade was particularly commended by another former pupil and influential teacher, George Barnard (d. 1890), whose manuals included instruction on tree drawing.29 In the section devoted to this subject in the Arboretum Loudon referred to Harding's pH pmentarv Art (1834) as both "artistical and philosophic" and recommends his readers to study its author's remarks on the use of the lead pencil as "the best manner that has hitherto been done".30

26. Ball 1985 p. 320. 27. See especially The Park and the Forest 1841. 28. 1904 Vol. XV p. 119; on the "great influence" of his works (p. 112). 2 9 . Drawing from Nature 1865 p. 183. Harding was acquainted with Michael Faraday, Barnard's brother-in-law (Jones 1870 Vol. I p. 419). Faraday and Barnard are known to have gone on sketching tours together. 30. AFB 1835-38 Vol. I p. 203. 269

Harding says that while no lines exist in nature (p. 14) and pencil strokes seem less appropriate to the delineation of Foliage than anything else... when well employed upon the perfect knowledge of it, the Pencil affords a most favourable means for gaining the details and general character, with great truth and freedom (p. 34).

The great difficulties connected with tree drawing, particularly the foliage - "a study... of the first consequence" (p. 33) - are emphasised. Trees cannot be copied and require different skills to those used in drawing other objects; "hence arises the necessity for studying... another application of the means of Art for their representation" (p. 33). Art must be "founded on sure principles of Nature", in particular of perspective and of light and shade (p. 15). By following these principles, each species' "natural properties and characters" can be displayed, to which end expression of feeling must be subservient (p. 26). The landscape painter does not engage in "botanical delineation", being "usually too far removed from Trees, even the nearest, to be aware of any delicate minutiae" (p. 34), but he must always "apply to the great book of Nature, the source of all knowledge" (p. 54), since, as we will see, correct depiction of the whole depends on understanding of the details.

Harding prefaces his progressive method by explaining "what belongs to foliage generally" so that "what constitutes the peculiarities of each Tree may be the more easily superadded" (p. 36). After pointing out (and illustrating at Examples 1-5 on Plate IX) (Fig. 121) that "it is not so much in the strokes put on, as in the paper confined by them, that the likeness to Nature is to be found" (p. 35), Harding, unusually, begins his teaching of the foliage with the shadow: Nature puts on the light, and leaves the shadow - the Pencil puts on the shadow and leaves the light (the white paper); and it is most essential to bear in mind the important truth, that it is the illuminated parts of objects which, in Nature, attract the attention (p. 35).

Harding's awareness of the full effect of the skillful handling of contrasts of light and shade enables him to stress the advantages for tree depiction of striving to employ a full tonal 270 range with the pencil. His Plate IX contains the first simple exercises (6-8), designed to teach shading by practicing short, horizontal lines, to achieve "evenness and transparency" (p. 37). The tone must be evenly graded from top to bottom, as it would appear in nature (p. 36) (see Ex. 9). Common errors in the stroke are explained and can be seen at Exercises 7, 8 and 10 on this plate. These exercises on shadow reappear on Plate X (Fig. 122) integrated into the drawings at Examples 4 ("incorrect") and 5 ("correct"). In presenting correct and incorrect drawings together, Harding adopts a unique method of teaching tree drawing, which must have proved exceedingly helpful to his students and this will be considered more fully in the final chapter. His explanations of typical errors are more detailed than Kennion's and the drawings allow the student to see exactly why a particular stroke is wrong and how to avoid it. From Harding's suggestion that the drawing should be held up to a mirror in order to see how it would look when printed,31 it seems that he did not employ the method of tracing the outline of the original and transferring the tracing to the stone so that the printed image would be as drawn and not reversed (as described by Hullmandel in 1824) ,32 He would therefore have had to draw the incorrect models of foliage in reverse so that when printed they would appear as required.

For Harding, the touch is still a device intended to overcome the problem of depicting the foliage masses, particularly where highlighted. As he says, "on... the attraction of all bright parts of objects hinges much of the difficulty in Art to be overcome; but, as it is an undeniable truth in Nature, overcome it must be, or Art is not Art" (p. 35). However the shadows play a greater role in Harding's explanation; he is more aware of their influence on the appearance of the masses of foliage, both in nature and on the page. Kennion and Strutt, as we have seen, adapt the touch for the shadows from that devised for the lights.

31. 1834 p. 79. 32. art of Drawing on Stone p p . 16-18. 271

Having mastered the strokes for the shadows the student must learn to draw "general forms with very light lines" by practicing the outline characteristic of the leaf (Ex. 11 on Plate XI) to obtain the "general roundness" with "individual character". Harding relates the "natural motion of the hand" to the "natural positions" of the leaves (pp. 38-39) and demonstrates it at Examples 1 and 8 (enlarged version) on Plate X. in the latter, dotted lines indicate the form each leaf would take if it could be seen through the others. It should be possible, he says, to infer from a drawing the relationship of the leaves to each other and their manner of growth upon the twig (p. 42) but the artist should not attempt to depict the leaves "minutely and precisely" (p. 39). Using an outline in the preliminary stages is designed to "guide the hand in obtaining the general roundness" (p. 39).

Incorrect strokes for drawing the outline of foliage masses are illustrated at Ex. 2, Plate X, with an enlarged cluster at Ex. 9 and shown on the tree at Ex. 4. He explains later that a small mistake, repeated a hundred times, becomes a glaring error (p. 55). For a right-handed person part of the difficulty consisted in making the required movement of the hand for the right side of the image.33 Although Ex. 5 appears to be an ash, Harding does not identify it as one at this stage (because he is still teaching the student general principles). However the foliage is almost identical to the ash in the right-hand drawing on Plate XII (Fig. 124) and Harding states later that he "prefers to begin with the Ash" (pp. 56-57). Since Ex. 5 is "correct" the character of the ash should be apparent. However, he explains that by attending to the shaded areas "additional resemblance of Nature" is possible and refers the student to the strokes for the shadow shown at Examples 3 and 4 on Plate XI, and to Examples 1 and 2 for their application (p. 43). Yet more likeness to the species can be achieved by learning how to

33. George Barnard referred to these difficult parts as "back-handed" and the easy (left) side "right-handed" (1865 p. 202). See Hayman Rooke's and Beaumont's difficulties (Figs. 50 and 97). 272 produce "the half-tone of colour that exists between the brightest light and deepest shade" (p. 53). Emphasis on the shaded areas prevents over-use of outlines, since, like Kennion and Malchair, Harding points out that these are only necessary where the character of the foliage is discernible in silhouette (p. 40). In tracing Harding's teaching for the ash, it will be seen that although the examples are scattered on different plates, together with the text they present a clear step-by-step method for tackling its foliage.

When first attempting to draw any particular tree from nature (as opposed to drawing practice to learn the touch for foliage), the student "must first look for, and study, the leading peculiarities of the leaf, the structure and growth of the branches, and of the bark (p. 56). Harding recommends treating trees like machines, taking the parts to pieces to learn how they are made in order to "know how to put the whole together". The shadow and outline must be practiced separately, then the trunk and the branches (p. 58). When drawing a beech, for instance the student must learn the "leading characteristics... which it possesses in addition to the leading properties common to all" (p. 58). Harding refers the student to his study of a beech in Knowle Park (Fig. 125) and explains that the leaf being rounder than in the ash, "the touch must be something like Ex. 4 Plate IX" but that since these general forms bear more resemblance to the elm, they must instead "be passed in long undulating lines, and be much detached, to give freedom to the leaves and to represent the way in which they grow on the Branches" (pp. 56-57); "the Outline should be very sparingly introduced, and by no means rigid and connected". The strokes for the shadow should be "long, undulating and continuous" (p. 57). Referring the student back to earlier exercises for all leaf masses on Plate IX to enable the differences between the expression of the various types of foliage to be more clearly understood, is characteristic of the manner in which Harding deals with each tree species. 273

Harding extends the system of critical appraisal followed in these manuals by recommending the student to keep and criticise all drawings step by step, beginning with the shadow, and to date his drawings to enable him to see his improvement and avoid becoming discouraged. Finally, Harding urges him to practice continually (p. 58); if practice is founded on correct knowledge, the student's productions will be "strongly stamped with the truth of Nature" (p. 59).

qi-udv achieves consensus it is illuminating to compare Harding's method of teaching in

B 1 pmentarv Art with Lessons on Trees which appeared in 1852. The tone of his introduction reveals that studying nature was by that time an accepted means of depiction.34 Harding says his lessons "accord exactly with the instructions contained in pmentarv Art" but this new work is much more concise because persuasive rhetoric is no longer necessary. The various "qualities" common to all trees, which need to be understood before drawing them from nature is attempted, are listed. He again chooses the ash as the basis for teaching the required movements of the hand but identifies it from the first (p. 5).

Having dealt with trunks and branches on Plate 1 (not shown here), Plate 2 (Fig. 126) presents the touch to express the characters of foliage of three very different trees - the ash, the willow and the oak. Harding says that "all outlines expressive of foliage are but modifications of these two lessons" (p. 5 ) . This plate is discussed at length by Ruskin in Biements nf Drawing. He derives two rules for foliage from it: "the law of radiation and enclosure" must be reconciled with the law of "perpetual individual caprice on the part of the separate leaves". "As Harding uses these touches," he says, "they express

34 . Consensus on this point can be judged from the increasing number of landscape paintings in a naturalistic mode, and from other manuals and writings on art - by George Barnard and Ruskin, for instance. 274 as much of tree character as any mere habit of touch can express". He warns, however, that the moment a touch becomes monotonous, "it must also be false, the liberty of the leaf individually being just as essential a truth as its unity of growth with its companions in the radiating group".35

Harding's students progress, as in Elementary Art, from the shaded areas to the lights, the stages being shown in numerous plates. The drawings are intended to make the student "capable of observing nature truly for himself" (p. 5). The method of drawing foliage, from the basic touch to the masses as part of the whole tree, appears easier to follow here since Harding presents the touch for each tree first, rather than discussing common characteristics. The student will thus have known immediately which tree he was attempting to draw rather than being confronted with a somewhat abstract notion. Instructions .are less detailed but Harding frequently refers the student to his earlier work.

Harding's drawings of whole trees in these manuals are both accurate and sensitive, the result of knowledge of their characters combined with great manual dexterity and exploitation of the pencil's full tonal range. They are superior to Kennion's in delicacy and freedom of handling, qualities which also give them more aesthetic appeal than Strutt's. Ruskin made the pertinent comment: "never aim at freedom. It is not required of your drawing that it should be free, but that it should be right; in time you will be able to do right easily, and then your work will be free in the best sense".36 Harding acknowledged his debt to the lithographic process,37 "the Art which alone could enable me to do this work" (1834 p. 79); it allowed greater scope for tonal treatment than line engraving or

35. 1904 Vol. XV pp. 113-114. 36. 1904 Vol. XV p . 15. 37. Compare Burgess (Figs. 69-70) and Barnard (Fig.127). Harding contributed to the development of lithography in Britain by assisting Charles Hullmandel, author of The Art of Drawing on Stone (1824) and other works (DNB). See also Blunt on the limitations placed on botanical artists by the technical means at their disposal (1950 p. 263). 275 etching. The refinements he brought to the teaching of tree drawing are also impressive - a view confirmed by the assessments of Ruskin, Barnard and Loudon.

The proliferation of manuals on tree drawing from the 1830s38 indicates a growing interest which also presented a continuing challenge to the student and the teacher. No one again attempted the detailed instruction to be found in either Kennion's (reissued in 1844) or Harding's works. The latter appears to have been the model for subsequent writers, who summarized and simplified or added a few refinements in accordance with their own preoccupations. Harding's students, Ruskin and Barnard, are among these. Barnard's first studies of trees were published in 1844 and his last in 18S8. Drawing From Nature (1865) shows his debt to Harding in the early exercises for the touch of ash and oak and explanations of the steps to be followed, also in his drawing style (Figs. 127-128). His insistence that "truth of drawing" depends on the careful study of the character of each tree is to be expected at this stage. The work differs from Harding's in being more than a manual. It is reminiscent of the treatises in including poetry and historical anecdotes but it is clearly also intended to interest Barnard's pupils in the delights of natural history generally - to integrate drawing and learning (Loudon would have appreciated this). Latin names of the trees are given, with notes on their size, age and situation, besides their appearances, and Barnard quotes Evelyn, Gilpin and Loudon on the oak (pp. 18-25). His 1868 Studies of Tr-pes from Nature still stresses the problems of drawing trees and includes a passage on the need to "study botany" to learn the trees' "manner of growth, height, breadth and comparative size and form" before considering those aspects which are important to the artist: "the greatest diversity and picturesqueness of outline" (Preface). Barnard sees no conflict between the demands of art and science in drawing from nature, a view also embraced by Ruskin.

38. New publications and new editions; sometimes tree drawing forms only part of the subject-matter. See Bridson and White 1990 pp. 35-100. 276

A large proportion of Ruskin's Elements of Drawing (1857) concerns trees, partly because they are used to illustrate (in the text and in woodcuts) specific points on drawing from nature; the emphasis, however, is on verbal explanation, written in his distinctive literary-didactic style. Ruskin quotes from Harding's works and both praises and criticises his drawings.39 It is evident that studying the various elements of nature in order to portray them faithfully is now taken for granted; his concern is purely with how this should be done. For instance, "observance of the ruling organic law" is the "first distinction" between good and bad artists. The former always "trace these laws of government" while the bad artist "puts his leaves on the trees as if they were moss tied to sticks; he cannot see the lines of action or growth" (p. 116) . In other words, a landscape painter's merit must be judged by the extent to which his knowledge of nature is evident in his work.

Examples are taken from past and present masters, their trees always being evaluated on their truth to nature. Ruskin's comments on the lack of truth in trees depicted by Wilson and Gainsborough remind us that they followed different criteria. He says, for instance, that Wilson "never conceives a tree as a round mass, but flat, as if it had been pressed and dried" and that his paintings exhibit "the careless habit of drawing boughs with successive sweeps of the pen or brush, one hanging to the other" (p- 93). The detail of Gainsborough's landscapes exhibit "nothing but meaningless touches; not even so much as the species of tree, much less the variety of its leafage, being discernible" (p. 116) . Ruskin agreed with Harding on the importance of the handling of light and shade and also showed right and wrong methods of drawing foliage, comparing a spray taken from an etching by Turner with two woodcuts by himself, one after Titian, and another representing the manner of Carracci and his followers (Fig. 129-131).40 The "irregular and

3 9 . Elements of Drawing 1904 Vol. XV pp. 25-228. See also Modern Painters I 1904 Vol. Ill PP- 200-201, 254. 40. But woodcuts cannot express refinements of shading (p. 14; p. 116). 277 broken lines" of Turner's spray, seen prior to adding light and shade, are "more true than the monotonous though graceful leaf- drawing" which preceded him; following the "development of the forms by chiaroscuro.... every touch falls into its place, and a perfect expression of grace and complexity results". In the 'Titian', Ruskin considers the leaves "too much of one shape, like bunches of fruit", while the final example shows the "scrawled work" of "derivative masters" (pp. 121-122) .41

The art of seeing nature

An appropriate finale to this discussion of tree manuals is provided by John Claudius Loudon's lesson on tree drawing. It owes much to both Kennion and Harding (without acknowledgment), as well as Strutt, thus endorsing their approach. It also contains one new and distinctive feature which renders the practice of tree drawing more systematic and exact.

While recommending Elementary Art for teaching the use of the pencil, Loudon refrains from mentioning Harding's whole trees, perhaps considering that such freedom would distract the student from the essentials. A critical attitude to most tree drawing and a conviction of the importance of accurate depiction for a complete study of trees seem to have been Loudon's motives for publication; he would also have expected to reach a different audience. The lesson appeared in 1835 in The Gardener's Magazine, of which he was the editor, and in the first volume of the Arboretum.42 Its inclusion in the latter emphasised the importance of the drawings of whole trees in that work. He remarks continually on the accuracy with which the characters of

41. In Ruskin's eyes Turner could do no wrong, but he was blind to Constable's abilities. 42 'Directions for Drawing Trees and Botanical Specimens from Nature' GM Vol. XI pp. 395-412; 'Of the Mode of drawing Trees from Nature, in such a Manner as to give the general pictorial Expression of the Species of Tree delineated' (AFB Vol. I pp. 202-211). The latter appeared a few months before the slightly longer version in GM, to which the reader is referred for further information. I will only cite the Arboretum where an important difference occurs. 278 each species are portrayed, referring to this as the "beauty of truth" (GM Vol. XI p. 405). For Loudon, holding a comprehensive view of dendrology, such drawings performed the same function for whole trees as the usual botanical drawings (i.e. of the reproductive parts) for other plants.

In the same chapter in the Arboretum which includes the drawing lesson Loudon says: Experience proves that a man may excel as a graphic artist with very little knowledge beyond his art; but, at the same time, it is also found from experience, that all the greatest artists have been, more or less, philosophers; and hence, though a knowledge of the natural and economical history of trees may not be essential for the artist who studies them pictorially, it will yet be found to render him material assistance (Vol. I p. 193). All his descriptions of the the different species in this chapter (pp. 193-202) will have been relevant to drawing them, but Loudon also says that knowledge of botany will greatly assist the painter (pp. 197-198) . It is important to depict a species at the time of greatest beauty, but striving for picturesque "effect" would go beyond what is appropriate, although Loudon admits that certain trees such as the oak and the thorn have inbuilt picturesque qualities (GM. Vol. XI p p . 406 and 403).

While The Gardener's Magazine had a wide readership, the Arboretum's would probably have been confined to those with a particular interest in trees. In the former, Loudon specifically addresses landscape gardeners and architects, "persons residing in the country who have leisure, and young gardeners", to whom he also directs a brief homily on self-improvement through learning to draw. To "see trees with the eyes of both an artist and a botanist", they should be drawn from nature, since "without having sketched a great many... it may with safety be said that it is scarcely possible to acquire the art of seeing trees" (GM pp. 410-412). The "art of seeing", as must by now be apparent, is really the crux of the whole matter. Constable acknowledged this when he wrote, "how much real delight have I 279 had with the study of landscape this summer. I am myself improved in the art of seeing nature... or nature has unveiled her beauties to me less fastidiously".43

As for practical advice, Loudon exhorts his readers to keep referring to the trees themselves and always to draw to scale (vital for accuracy of representation and comparison); many tree drawings sent to him as editor were unusable since this had been overlooked. (GM p. 395). To remedy this defect his article contains exact instructions on the subject. Some of the manuals also mention the need to reckon the scale of trees in relation to one another, and a rough idea of the size of the trees was usually indicated in any landscapes by the inclusion of men or animals, but none treat the subject in such depth as Loudon. He explains very precisely how to measure a tree's height and breadth and includes a chart displaying scaled-down measurements for both young and fully grown trees44 with clear instructions for its use (Fig. 132). Apart from aiding comparison, this method would increase understanding of changes in structure and growth of the trunk and ramifications, and of the appearance and density of foliage at different stages of the life cycle, all of which need to be attended to when drawing (GM p. 402). To assist reduction - or generalisation - of foliage with increasing distance, scale drawings of it are shown, related to the diagram of scales for the whole tree (GM p. 405).

While this is an important innovation for improving accuracy, Loudon's instructions on the use of the pencil to communicate the character of foliage are rather muddled and over-simplified. This is not surprising, considering that his own experience appears to have been confined to drawing views and he was attempting to encompass what it took Kennion and Harding a whole volume each to elucidate. For instance, Loudon says The artist should go up close to the tree, examine its leaves and make sketches of an individual leaf and of a cluster of leaves, both to a larger scale than that to which the tree is to be drawn, and

4 3 . Letter to Dr. Fisher, 22 July 1812, quoted Leslie 1951 p. 34. 4 4 . All commissioned drawings in the Arboretum were drawn to this scale. 280

then to the same scale.... These sketches are merely to be considered as studies made with a view of acquiring what artists call the touch, or ultimate character of form, with which the tree is to be clothed (GM Vol. XI p. 401). This encourages close study but seems to suggest that making a few sketches of leaf clusters and sprays of different species will suffice to understand their structure sufficiently well to delineate them correctly. The artist-teachers, on the other hand, emphasise that constant practice is imperative, and stress the time it had taken to learn. Loudon also fails to explain exactly how and why the foliage must be generalised.

Kennion's Essay was probably the main source of Loudon's understanding of the touch. The touch must be learned, Loudon says, since, "as every species of tree has a distinct character of leaf, so has every species also a distinct character of touch" (GM p. 401). However, he frequently refers to it as though it were a character of the tree itself, rather than a technique or device specially designed to allow marks made on the paper to express the particular character of the foliage. "These radiating leaves form the touch," he says, and, "there is a distinct character of touch even in young trees... while in old trees of a distinct species there is generally a very distinctive character in the general form, in the trunk, the ramifications and tufting and the touch" (GM pp. 401-402). Perhaps he was aware of some confusion here because he includes a quotation and a drawing from Strutt's article on the touch of oak (Fig. 120), from which its status as a technical device is clear (GM. pp. 403-404). Loudon gives the scale of these two drawings which was omitted from the original article.

In contrast to the touch of oak, Loudon includes four scale drawings (of a single leaf and a cluster of leaves shown at increasing distances) (Fig. 133) by his artist "M. Lejeune" to demonstrate the touch for a wild pear (Pyrus nivalis) (AFB Vol. VIII p. 405). The process of incorporation of the generalised image into the whole tree (Figs. 134-135) is very clearly expressed here, and Loudon's complete grasp of this concept is 281 related to his knowledge of scale and perspective. What is not explained is the exact means of achieving the touch, for which we have to look to Kennion or Harding. Loudon seems to have instructed this artist personally; referred to as "Miss M.L." in the Arboretum, she was the only non-professional employed. Applying Loudon's strict standards to her efforts, she appears to have grasped the concept of the touch but often failed to use it to assist in expressing the character of the foliage. (See, for instance, her Marsh Oak (Fig. 83) in which the unusual length and slenderness of the leaves, which should be visible at least against the sky, are quite lost.) Whether Loudon did not notice this - which is unlikely since his landscape painters were expected to distinguish between species, not just genera - or, owing to the great expense of the work, had to compromise with some of the drawings, we can only guess.

Loudon's contribution in this lesson to furthering the cause of naturalistic tree drawing - in terms of disseminating the idea of sketching from nature, in setting out scientific criteria and emphasising the need to work to scale - was probably quite important. His complaints of current practice among landscape painters alone will have helped to increase awareness of the benefits of studying nature. His drawing instruction, however, is often difficult to follow,- in attempting to summarise the practical innovations of Kennion and Harding he lost important detail. Nevertheless, he admirably succeeds in communicating the making of scale drawings - the result of a very full discussion of the subject and clear diagrams.

At the time of writing, Loudon was almost certainly correct in his assessment of the inability of most landscape painters to depict trees which "gave a true idea of their species". He wanted them to see trees with -fefee- a botanist's eyes as well - in other words to improve their knowledge of structure and growth by close observation, and his descriptions and illustrations of the different trees in the lesson reinforce this view. His criticisms, therefore, were directed at landscape painters who 282

neglected to study trees in order to improve their visual and practical skills, and instead allowed other criteria to guide them, such as rules governing picturesque landscape which emphasise "effect". An artist looking closely at a tree with the intention of producing a truthful impression of it, however, would be aware of its complexity and the need for systematic and detailed study.

These manuals demonstrate their authors' desire to effect changes to existing attitudes and practices and to encourage students to focus their attention directly on the trees in order to achieve "truthful" representations. They provided motivation, explanation and practical assistance in an area for which existing models were inappropriate. They also furnish further evidence that landscape painters were studying the trees by adopting the methods of field naturalists. It will have been noticed that the authors, even those who deduced causal connections, do not refer to themselves as naturalists (in the manner of the eighteenth-century "artist-naturalists") but they were aware of the source of their methodology. Burnett gave explicit, and Loudon implicit, assent to this connection and from the 1820s new students of tree drawing were urged to learn some botany.

Loudon's strict criteria of truth - the dominating theme of the manuals - provides a useful yardstick by which to measure the results of the intensive research they contain. In terms of the artists' growing understanding of tree species and development of the skills whereby this could be communicated, these manuals, especially Kennion's (probably written c. 1800), are impressive. However, the results - the drawings or paintings of whole trees in landscape - sometimes fall below the desired synthesis of truth and beauty, and therefore lack merit as art. In other words, knowing 'what' and 'how' was not always sufficient to meet their own declared standards. It is easy to see this now 283 because we can compare them with what have come to be regarded as great naturalistic tree depictions. While consensus was reached regarding the need to study trees, Barnard's comment on the problems artists experienced as late as 1868, merely confirms that individuals had to learn for themselves. Tree drawings of the calibre of Strutt's or Harding's (or Constable's) represent years of study and practice.

The manuals also reflect the aims, and the methodological approach if not the exact practice, of other landscape painters who were drawing trees from nature, and provide an explanation as to why and how attention came to be focussed on the characters of tree species. I have suggested the importance of the connections these authors had with other painters; in addition to teaching, they also exhibited landscapes at the British Institution and the Royal Academy. Harding commented on the "power of concentrated knowledge", and trees depicted with understanding could not have failed to impress. They would also have demonstrated that rural scenery did not necessarily require a Gilpinesque treatment. To avoid picturesque "effect" Loudon chose for the volumes of plates in the Arboretum specimens which best exhibited the characters of the species and had no distracting and individual features - although he allowed that some species possessed inherent picturesque qualities. However, Strutt's and Harding's drawings show that even trees with highly individual features should still be identifiable.

The practice embodied in the manuals indicates some of the problems these artists faced in attempting to study trees. Without models in art or botany they turned to natural history field practice for a new framework to assist their investigations, but they had to devise their own means of tackling specific problems of representation. They needed also to persuade other painters to look directly at the trees and to find ways of passing on their knowledge and skills. Intensive study of the trees and drawing practice went into the preparation of the manuals, which generally convey the impression of an increasing understanding of trees as living plants and an awareness that knowledge of distinguishing characters was the key to faithful representations.

These investigations yielded insights about the trees and innovations in teaching. The progressive systems devised, particularly the comparative analysis of parts which improved understanding of the whole, were evidently based on the authors' own learning experiences. While copying the exercises was designed to improve dexterity and instil the correct movements of the hand to delineate particular features, students were also taught what could and should be included in a painting and, in particular, how to retain the character of each tree at different distances. They were always ultimately referred to nature since they had to learn to see for themselves to transcend mechanical copying.

Tree drawing from nature required special visual and manual skills which needed to be developed and refined. Even Constable, now considered an exemplar in this sphere, had difficulties to overcome. In the final chapter, the activity of foliage drawing will be analysed in greater detail in order to reveal the experimental nature of aspects of these artists' practice. 285

CHAPTER EIGHT Scientific experiment in learning and communicating the skills of tree drawing

In his final lecture on landscape painting at the Royal Institution on 16 June 1836 Constable declared painting to be a science and asked why "landscape painting should not be considered as a branch of natural philosophy of which paintings are but experiments".1 This assertion, made after more than thirty years' experience of drawing and painting from nature, is surely a considered reflection on his own method and approach, as much as a comment on the work of others. Yet its full implications have generally either been ignored, dismissed or described as "metaphor".2 Gombrich, however, has commented on it at length and on the visual discoveries which resulted from Constable's experiments with light and colour.3 These were of course of great importance, but his "ceaseless experimentation"4 was not only related to optics. Constable's study of elements of the landscape connects his work - like that of other naturalistic painters of the time - to the natural history sciences; to all intents and purposes, their practice was virtually identical to that of field naturalists investigating similar subject-matter, with the addition of one important feature. Discussion of the manuals in the previous two chapters has revealed a substantial element of experimentation involved in attempts to overcome major problems connected with the drawing of trees from nature, particularly the foliage. It will be apparent that the acquisition, application and communication of special skills was an extension of the type of recording usually associated with natural history field practice. I argue here that in their systematic study of tree foliage, these

1 . Leslie 1843 (1951 p. 323). See also notes for a lecture (July 1836) to the Hampstead Literary and Scientific Institution (Parris et al 1975 p. 20) . Constable was elected a member of the Royal Institution, proposed by Michael Faraday, 4 April 1836 (Minutes 1828-42) . 2. For example, Goodman 1976 p. 33; Beckett: "Constable tried to persuade himself that landscape was a branch of science" (1962-68 Vol. IV p. 172). But see Bermingham 1987 p. 155. 3 . 1960 pp. 29ff; p. 41. 4 . Ibid. p. 29. 286

artists used the pencil as an exploratory tool, the eye, hand and mind working together in a process of learning by doing, and that these explorations connect their practice to experimental science.

Most art historians have appeared hostile to any suggestion that such landscape painters might be "doing science" - witness the reaction to Constable's cloud studies being described in these terms by Karl Badt.5 This is almost certainly due to a misunderstanding of the nature of science at the time and to a consequent lack of awareness of the extent to which painters attempting a naturalistic mode of landscape depended in the first instance on scientific conventions and methods in the absence of appropriate models in art for the close study of nature. I have tried to show that since landscape painters, seeking an understanding of nature which would inform their work, emulated the field practice of naturalists it is quite appropriate to consider their studies in the context of the natural history sciences. Whether or not in this endeavour they thought of themselves as naturalists, they undoubtedly attempted to be scientific in their attitude and method; we saw Gilbert Burnett's reference to Strutt as a "natural historian".

Recent developments in the history and philosophy of science relating to experimental practice have emphasised the importance of the active processes by which the experimenter engages with the world - the 'knowing how' as opposed to the 'knowing that' traditionally favoured by philosophers.6 Concern to recapture the steps by which discoveries are made has rekindled interest in craft and tacit skills first discussed by Gilbert Ryle in 1949 and Michael Polanyi in 1966. Such skills are common to the artist and the experimenter. I hope to show that analysis of the skills necessary to learn to draw trees from nature will not

5 . Badt 1950, and Thornes 1979. For reactions see, for example, Oppe 1952, Hawes 1969. 6 . See, for example, Gooding 1985, 1989, 1990a; Latour and Woolgar 1979; Lynch and Woolgar 1990. The discussion by ter Hark (1993, especially pp. 588-591) adds a useful dimension. 287 only increase our understanding of naturalistic depiction but will also suggest, by analogy, a further dimension for the consideration of scientific experimentation.

The drawings and texts in the manuals show that their authors followed systematic and comparative methods, making many discoveries which enabled them to portray the various species with understanding (and in the process rendering the results of value to science). These works also provide access to the special skills involved in studying trees, which are not readily accessible from paintings.7 Of the manuals discussed above I will draw on the four which best illuminate the learning and communication of these skills, concentrating in particular on the skills and experimental aspects of the development of the "touch", a device created to express the characters of foliage of different tree species. The manuals are: Kennion's (1815), Strutt's (1828b) and Harding's (1834 and 1852). I will also refer to Loudon's article on tree drawing to show the significance he placed on knowledge of the touch. It will be remembered that Loudon admired most of the tree drawings in these manuals and the trees in Strutt's paintings but was generally highly disparaging of the "violation of truth and nature in the works of our first artists", with the exception of Constable's and some others.8 Kennion and Harding were also critical and emphasised the importance of giving the trees their "distinguishing characters" (Kennion p. 8).

Truth is a keyword in the manuals and it could only be achieved by attending directly to nature,9 but this did not mean that aesthetic considerations were neglected. In fact, all the tree manuals show that the ultimate aim was a synthesis of beauty and truth. Harding does not discuss beauty directly, but the whole tenor of his manual is the pleasure generated by the

7 . See Baxmdall on the disappearance of the process (1985 p. 39). 8. 1828 Vol. Ip- 37 . 9 . Not a new idea in scientific illustration (see Blum, 1993 p. 11, on Hooke's claim for those in Microcrraphia (1665) to be taken as faithful records of his observations). 288

"power and feeling" of art "stamped with the truth of nature" (1834 p. 59) .10 Loudon echoes these painters in emphasising that a tree drawing requires "natural beauty, beauty with reference to the nature and characteristic distinction of each particular species of tree... in short the beauty of truth" (GM p. 405).

Landscape painting and the communication of knowledge

The manuals embody substantial knowledge of invariable characters, structure and patterns of growth and we have seen that the study of whole trees by landscape painters was appreciated and utilised by botanists such as Loudon and Burnett. Loudon believed that dendrology - the science of the study of trees - should "embrace the whole subject" (AFB pp. 192-193). Tree drawings from nature could 'stand in' for the living plants and had the potential to communicate knowledge. In his introductory lecture at King's College Burnett recommended, and displayed, specimens and drawings "to bring the plant as it were into review before us". Constable, too, used very large drawings of an ash when discussing tree depictions in a lecture (Fig. 136).11 The inclusion of 600 plates of whole trees drawn from nature by landscape painters in the Arboretum was an innovation in a botanical work. His awareness of the cognitive value of visual material was no doubt enhanced by his early work in landscape garden design and continuing interest in landscape painting.

The reader may object that landscape painting by its very nature cannot display sufficient detail to be "true" or to act as a repository of knowledge of use to botanists and others. Inevitably such painting presents a generalised image; the purpose of study, however, is to increase the power of that generalisation. This is recognised in all the manuals and by Loudon: the greater the understanding of the special characters

10. See also pp. 49-51. 1 1 . Hampstead 25 July 1836 (Beckett 1970 p. 69). 289 of a species) and the relations between them, the more value can be attached to any generalisation derived from them.

Process: the acquisition of new skills

Depicting trees from nature brought changes in drawing practice, since, as Harding pointed out, it requires different skills to drawing other objects (1834 p. 33). The aim being to represent each species' characters, the painter must "study the principles of nature and on them found the ingenious application of the means at our disposal so that we can learn to imitate her faithfully" (p. 15). This encapsulates the exploratory nature of the investigations of tree species and the means of depicting them embodied in the manuals. Harding's and Kennion's exceedingly detailed exposition and drawings allow us insights into the skills involved in these investigations. The visual and manual skills required for the depiction of tree species are analysed and simplified for the student in the drawings and texts in the published manuals. Nevertheless, they enable us to go some way towards reconstructing their authors' original explorations as they strove - like their contemporaries in science - for an understanding of the natural world. This is important since the skills connected with such a study are not immediately accessible from paintings, which represent the results of the artists' explorations, not the explorations themselves.12

In the manuals we see that, instead of the manner of depiction being dictated by existing traditions of art, or imagined, each tree was to be considered as a living plant, belonging to a particular species with special and identifiable characters - and represented appropriately. The student of tree drawing is constantly urged to "refer to Nature" as his authority. Loudon understood this too:

12. On the disappearance of the process see Baxandall 1985 p. 39. The section 'Angles on process: positing the intentional flux' is particularly relevant to this whole discussion (especially p p . 62-67) . 290

the correct touch of a tree can no more be acquired without studying the mode of foliation of that tree, than the correct mouldings of a Grecian or Gothic cornice can be understood or represented without the study of Grecian or Gothic architecture (AFB Vol. Ip. 13) .

The vision of an artist or scientist can be trained to a high degree of ability but must still be attuned to particular subject areas. Learning how to see (and what to look for) is a recurring theme in the manuals, for instance, Loudon states that "without having sketched trees a great deal from nature it is scarcely possible to acquire the art of seeing them" (GM p. 410) -13 This suggests that the drawing process itself plays an important part. When Constable, after a period of intensive sketching from nature, wrote of his improvement in the art of seeing,14 this was obviously linked to what his friend Archdeacon Fisher referred to as "your own way of close observation".15 Increasing confidence in drawing, and especially knowing what to omit,16 probably prompted Constable's remark. However, his improved vision cannot be separated from the action of sketching since it is in the interaction of eye, mind and hand that the vision is refined, manual skills improved and understanding increased. Constable may only have realised the full meaning of the art of seeing when, much later, he came to prepare his third lecture at the Royal Institution, in which he stated, "we see nothing until we truly understand it"17 (a comment since referred to as one of his "maxims").18

Observation is a highly selective and active process which involves systematic appraisal of the subject matter and the means of manipulating and/or representing it, which may then lead to modification or elaboration. Those engaged in such a critical performance - whether artists or scientists - will

13. Compare Sandby's teaching of "forming the eye to the knowledge of landscape" as part of the drawing course at Woolwich in Chapter Two above. 1 4 . 22 July 1812, quoted Leslie 1843 p. 34. 1 5 . 6 March 1821. Leslie 1843 p. 79. 16. See Petherbridge 1991 p. 25. 17. Quoted Beckett 1970 p. 64. 18. Parris et al 1975 p. 64. 291 continually need to define and solve problems. The study of trees posed two main problems, as we have seen: selection and generalisation - intimately linked, since the value of the generalised image depends on what is selected. It is not just, as Kennion asserted, that copying from nature is impossible, the artist must learn to select, for the greatly reduced space of a drawing or painting, what is invariable in each species from all the variations which occur in nature, and this must be done against a background of fluctuating effects which continually affect their appearance.

The manuals set out each stage of study: observation of the entire living plant is followed by a detailed analysis of the parts - or elements - (to establish invariable characters) and reconstruction of the whole based on firm knowledge. Analysis includes studying the changing appearance of the parts at increasing distances so that the generalised image will retain the species' characteristic features. Rudolph Arnheim wrote that visual structuring occurs in two ways: the first is intellectual (analytical), the second intuitive, "in which each element's place in the whole occurs to some extent below the level of consciousness.... The structure of the whole controls the parts and vice versa".19 This would seem to explain what occurs in the process as described in the manuals (and in other such investigations): an image or awareness of the whole remains in the mind and guides the analysis and reconstruction of the parts, without attention being consciously focussed on it. Depictions achieved with skill and understanding demonstrate the force of the old adage that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. They should also be easier to interpret than the originals in nature due to the simplification inherent in the process of selection. This apparent paradox explains Harding's claim that certain tree sketches possess "the power of concentrated knowledge" (1834 p. 50).

19. 1974 (1980 p. 17S). 292

Putting nature to the question

As I have argued, the study of trees transcends the traditional image of natural history as straight-forward observation and recording.20 It involves the type of experimental practice referred to by Rom Harre as "exploration... a kind of intervention in the natural world which yields knowledge but lacks the manipulative character of the true experiment", since it does not cause changes in the actual phenomena. Harr6 includes in this category anatomy and geology, in their investigation of structure.21 Loudon stated that "knowing a plant involves an understanding of structure and habits of growth",22 later stressing the need to understand trees as "organised beings" (GM p. 193). Drawing from nature includes the study of external structure but, as we shall see, the explorations which are inseparable from such a practice link it to laboratory experimentation, through aspects of craft practice and tacit skills which Polanyi and others have shown are part and parcel of scientific investigation. Understanding structure did not extend to dissection (the concern of the anatomist mentioned by Harre), of course, but analysis of the parts through drawing involved a type of 'taking apart' nevertheless, internal structure, as we saw, could also be inferred from knowledge of the external.

Truth and touch: exploration and innovation

It is the exploratory nature of the study of natural phenomena - such as trees and clouds and rock formations - however, which underlies Constable's remark on paintings as experiments and gives it the status of insight. The drawing process, as we shall see, is an integral part of this exploration, not distinct from

20. Although, of course, in art or science observation is an active process (see Gooding on this in relation to experimental practice 1990a, Chs. 2-4 and Ch 6. p. 139, and 1990b p p . 131-148). 21. 1981 p. 23. 22. 1828 Vol. I p. 1. 293 and subsequent to observation but materially aiding understanding.

To assist with representing a tree's over-all structure, or the roundness and solidity of trunks and branches, analogies with drawing the human figure or columns proved useful.23 Life drawing entails constant reference back to the subject and the manuals continually urge students to "refer to nature". Drawings of bare-branched specimens ("skeletons"), and the same tree in full foliage, teach structure, proportion and "the different character of branching which each kind assumes" (Kennion 1815 p. 16) Strutt earlier referred to learning to draw trees in "the living academies of nature",24 observing, As well might an artist attempt to delineate the figure of a Hercules, without expressing any of the muscles of his body, as to give the drawing of an oak tree without a scientific regard to the anatomy of its form---25 The method of tree drawing presented in the manuals requires the attention to be shifted continually back and forth between the image and the particular tree being drawn. Frequent comparison between various species is also urged to increase understanding.

No appropriate model existed for the depiction of foliage, the most difficult aspect of the whole operation. It posed the greatest conceptual and technical problems, requiring innovations in practice, such as the creation of the "touch". The devising of this basic principle or building block of foliage drawing exemplifies the exploratory type of experimental practice mentioned above. Loops or scallops, used indiscriminately for any tree, had previously been the norm.26 We saw that Craig complained of this "shorthand" treatment, declaring that nature always indicates "the kind of line or touch",27

23. Compare the traditional vocabulary for referring to trees: "head, limbs and trunk", which perhaps suggested the analogy. 24. 1828b p. 39. 25. Ibid. p. 244. 26. Compare Canaletto's formula for indicating waves. 27. 1793 P- 22- See also Ruskin 1904 Vol. XV p. 80. 294

In the context of art the term "touch" generally denotes the marking of a surface with a pencil or brush. In the manuals, however, it is applied specifically to a device designed during the innovatory stage of learning to draw trees to express the character of foliage of each tree. This device (really devices, since each species required a particular touch) became necessary, once it was expected that trees should be recognisable in paintings, to overcome the enormous problems of representing the foliage masses, especially in the generalised more distant image. Since copying nature is impossible, Kennion tells his students they must learn to execute by "general expression" which "alludes to rather than particularises the idea" (1815 pp. 7 and 19). Although this might appear to grant the artist licence beyond the "truth of nature", generalisation had to be accomplished through study, not guesswork or random choice; as Craig suggested, not every mark in the artist's repertoire would do. The touch was designed to give a "truthful impression" (Kennion 1815 p. 12) of the foliage, to bridge the gap between what is (the full mass of foliage) which is impossible to depict, and what can and should be represented. It is important to be clear that the touch is not itself a naturalistic representation of the foliage, and taken out of context is meaningless. The handling of the pencil in the creation and use of the touch is crucial. Freedom of handling,28 is the declared aim; reworking is fatal, since "labour destroys truth" (1815pp. 16-17).

Susanne Langer in Problems of Art discussed the "discovery of fundamental artistic devices", saying that "the use of any device, no matter how important, is a principle of creation in art" (not to be confused with the principles of art itself). The "most powerful" of these include metric composition in poetry and representation "as a picture-making device".29 The touch created by these artists, although not of the latter order, can

28. Sir Joshua Reynolds in 1771 referred to handling as "a lightness of the pencil that implies great practice and gives the appearance of being done with ease" ini acourses IV 1905 p. 99) . 29. 1957 P- 115> 295 surely be considered in these terms. Recognition of the need for a device to overcome this major representational problem presupposes both imagination and intuition (referred to by Langer as "the fundamental intellectual activity" (p. 66). Such devices are not confined to art; they also perform an important function in experimental science. For instance, Gooding speaks of Faraday's "exploration of phenomenal possibilities through the invention of devices" and of his "active construction of shareable ways of experiencing those phenomena". One such is his "introduction of the notion of circles [which] provided a heuristic for further construction". The circles did not exist in actuality but "the image [of circular motion] made the phenomena intelligible by making sense of the behaviour producing and relating aspects of the phenomena".30 Gooding's whole discussion of Faraday's "construals" is also relevant here.31

As I have said, the skills and knowledge acquired at the exploratory stage of each artist's own study of the trees were analysed and simplified into a step-by-step scheme of study. For instance, the touch for each species appears in the manuals fully developed, with detailed drawings and verbal explanation for its acquisition and application. However, as Gooding's many discussions of experimental practice have shown, the authors' original learning process is unlikely to have occurred in the clear, precise and linear manner of its reconstruction; sketching and progress in understanding would have been much more chaotic and random.

revising the touch: Kennion's innovations

Although the published works present a distillation of earlier explorations, an informed guess concerning the skills involved in devising the touch is possible by examining the way it is

30. 1990a pp. 116, 59, 117.. 31 . Ibid. pp. 87-88 and 115-127. 296 communicated. Kennion, Strutt and Harding were not painters of any great distinction although they all exhibited landscapes. They were best known for their tree drawing and the example which this provided, as well as their teaching practice, will certainly have affected the approach and methods of many other landscape painters drawing trees from nature.

Kennion's Essay, as we saw in Chapter Seven, contains many insights concerning the structure and characters of different trees and practical innovations to help the student of tree drawing. His exposition shows that he devised the touch from a lengthy and detailed study of the foliation of mature specimens32 of each type of tree in its growing state and that it was not guessed at or imposed by existing artistic conventions. Reference to the touch or "characteristic manner" required to express the "characters" of tree species (1815 p. 19) indicates the significance for Kennion of the relationship between the characters of a tree and the manner of depicting it. This view is confirmed by Loudon's praise of Kennion for his "scientific knowledge of the touch" (AFB Vol. I pp. 13-14) . I have pointed out that he draws extensively on Kennion's terminology and discussion of the touch (and to a lesser extent on Harding's), in particular relating the "distinct character of the leaf" to the "distinct character of touch" for each species (GM Vol. XI p. 401) as Kennion had done.

Kennion's study of foliation revealed the distinct configuration for each kind of tree and that there is a form of touch that will accord with each of them and express its character in a surprising degree, and no other will reach the intention (1815 p. 16). This statement could only have been made after considerable observation and drawing practice - learning by doing. His quoted comments are relevant to all species but I will concentrate on his touch of oak (with brief comparative references to others) since it is likely that the idea of the touch emerged during his

32. Studying the characters of mature trees is universally recommended. 297 early study of oaks prior to publication of the 1790 prints. In this way my discussion will emulate his own exploratory path. Kennion's teaching always begins with the touch. By presenting the results of every stage of his explorations of each tree's foliage on a separate plate, he clearly communicates the derivation of each touch and reveals how his eye and hand worked together in its creation. Kennion's Plate III (Fig. 113) shows at Figure 3 (bottom left) "the principle of the touch of oak" required to express the "starry character" of its foliage, defined as "radii leading to a common point or centre". This is derived from a close study of the configuration of the leaf clusters as shown on Plate I (Fig. Ill). It is significant for our appreciation of Kennion's own learning process to note that Figure 1 (top right) - which would normally be the first to attract the attention - does not depict the touch but shows instead the special and unchanging configuration of the leaf masses or tufts (quoted above) from which he says the touch is derived. An enlarged cluster taken from this area is shown at Figure 2 from which one element or "elliptic asterisk" is isolated at Figure 3 to form the touch. Figure 4 (bottom centre) illustrates the manner in which oak leaves form tufts "surrounding the termination of the stalk" (p. 30) and how touches are combined to express this particular character.

- c r< . v * ¡S'/' 4 i -

-7 « O

Figures 2 and 3, Plate Ills Touch of Oak (actual size)

Figure 3 must first be copied and practiced repeatedly until the hand is adept at reproducing the correct movement to express the character (p. 20). Several touches are then combined (see Figure 2) before attempting complete tufts or proceeding to the whole tree in nature. These copying exercises are designed to teach familiarity with the touch, and dexterity in producing it, 298 but the aim is always to teach the student to see for himself.33 All this indicates that Kennion, in his own years of study, devised the touch by first attending to the whole tree (he considered the first impression of the whole very important), followed by a systematic analysis of the appropriate parts and eventually their recombination in a selected and simplified form.

The method of combining light and shaded areas to indicate depth and recession, and the difficult technique of foreshortening, can be seen at Figures 1 and 4 on Plate III (Fig. 113). Detail is lost in the area nearest to the eye owing to the sheer mass of leaves or the effect of strong light, which both highlights (and therefore draws the attention) and obscures (through reflection). It is such areas - referred to as "the lights" - which particularly required some device to aid their depiction, as we saw with Constable's early attempts and Kennion's own, which he never really resolved. The touch must also be accommodated to cope with more distant views. Figure 5 (top left) is further from the eye than either Figure 4 or Figure 1 which is a more distant view of the same figure on Plate II (Fig. 112). This illustrates Kennion's point that the shape of individual leaves "is lost in appearance at very little distance, though the form of the tufting continues to be distinguishable", especially against the sky or other light or contrasting darker area (p. 17). It is this which, combined with the tree's characteristic overall shape, makes it recognisable at a distance - in nature or art.

We have seen that all the manuals follow a comparative method so that attention is drawn to similarities and differences in the structure and patterns of growth between young and mature trees of one type - which may require modification of the touch - and between different types. Kennion's treatment of the touch of ash

33. The method advocated here, which begins with close study of characters, appears inconsistent with Gombrich's discussion of "schema and correction" in primers on drawing trees or birds (1960 pp. 126-127) . 299

and elm illustrates this point well. The touch of ash on Plate XVI (Fig. 117) is derived from "the pinnated leaves at the extremities of the branches of a mature tree and is more difficult to describe and acquire than that of oak or elm (p. 32). Although the tufts are similarly formed to those of the oak, its leaves are "pinnated or composed of several small leaves, all standing on one midrib" (p. 31). The student who can follow Kennion's explanation (the drawings are much clearer than the text here) should produce "a figure consisting of five curved lines united at one point and having a resemblance to a spider's legs... an ugly form to express the character of the most graceful of trees" (p. 32). Several of these basic touches are combined on the plate and shown at various distances, also displaying the tufts' character: "loose and transparent but connected" (p. 32). This more pendulous quality is in contrast to the rigid and upright character of the oak's foliage and "allows not of shadows as strongly marked" as those of the oak and elm, assisting recognition at a distance (p. 22). The general touch of elm can be seen on Plate VIII (Figure 12) (Fig. 114).

Figure 12, Plate VIII: Touch of Elm (actual size)

Kennion notes that, unlike the oak, the leaves "alternate along the sprays, terminated by a single leaf" (p. 30) (Figure 7, bottom left). The touch is again derived from the mature tree and can be expressed "with great truth", he says, by a wavy line, which must be adapted for the more spiky character of young trees (p. 30). The extremities of the branches of a full grown elm have a characteristic tendency to tilt upwards but Kennion suggests that this should only be hinted at in the reduced size of a drawing (p. 3 0) . The "stroke to produce the masses of shadow", for which consistency of angle is vital (p. 45), is given on Plate IX (Figure 13 far left) (Fig. 118). Its management in the foliage of the complete tree can be seen at Figure 19 (centre) where it is combined with the lights. Consistency of angle of stroke is vital and it can be seen here that the pencil still follows the rounded, soft and slightly downward slope of the general touch.

Although Kennion recognises that no outlines exist in nature, trees are often seen silhouetted against the sky so for beginners he recommends a very lightly sketched outline of "the general form of the masses... on which the touch can be laid in afterwards" (p. 45) (see Figure 18, top right). Figure 16 (bottom right) illustrates the oval shape of these masses, "rather flattened at the top", to which the touch must be adapted and, of course, reduced in size where appropriate, with what cannot be shown "hinted at" (p. 30).

Kennion concedes that the touch "may be modified under the general direction of feeling and taste but it must never depart from the general character" (p. 28). There is also a stage beyond the touch: The mere touch of oak may be and often is mechanically obtained, but what to do with it afterwards is unteachable, depending solely on the intelligent perception of feeling, which only nature can give (p. 29) . Such sensibility he considers a "natural" attribute of individual artists, enabling them to transcend "mere touch" and achieve the "expressive unity [which] gives value to representation" (p. 18). In other words, variations in style or handling of a tree drawing need not detract from its representational "truth". This helps to explain how the term "naturalistic" can be applied to very different styles of drawing and painting; it also demonstrates that the demands of science and art are not necessarily incompatible.

Finding beauty in truth and understanding the trees scientifically is the aim of these artists. In the course of study, acquired knowledge of character and growth, combined with skills specifically adapted or newly developed, could be expected to give authority to representations. As Harding says, 301

"how little is to be gained by toiling without knowledge... in Art as in other things, knowledge is power" (1834 pp . 50-51).

Strutt's touch of oak

Strutt's references to the touch for oak foliage, and his depiction of it, appear in an article commissioned by Loudon.34 They were intended to instruct readers in "the most striking peculiarities" of the oak and "the mode best adapted for their delineation" at different distances (p. 39). He deals with general structure, distinguishing between the "round, boldish lines" necessary to represent the "luxuriant and spreading character" and masses of foliage and the "greater variety of line" required for closer work (p. 40). This indicates his perception of the close link between character and the means of expressing it. Strutt's observations and explorations with the pencil enable him to state confidently what is required - what the pencil marks must be made to do.

Strutt's "touch of oak" (actual size) in this drawing the touch is given at Figure b, "as it recedes from the eye" (i.e. in more distant views). The particular characters of oak foliage (described in the text), from which the touch is derived (p. 244), can be seen at Figure a. Strutt is concerned to point out how the representation of particular characteristics must be adapted as the distance from the eye increases.

34. (1828b I p . 245). 302

Strutt's drawing shows the "form of individual leaves" against the sky far more successfully than Kennion's but his touch for the generalised image is very similar. For instance, Kennion's "starry quality" is clearly visible here, as are the erectness and angularity of the sprays and the manner in which the leaves are grouped; the adaptation of the touch to the shaded areas is also apparent. Strutt does not emphasise the special importance of the touch in the text, but he was not a teacher and his strength would appear to lie in the direction of recording his observations rather than in communicating the details of drawing practice. Since Strutt's drawings, for instance in Svlva n-ri tannica (Figs. 64-67), are evidence of his complete assurance in handling the various types of foliage, this suggests that the touch for each tree, having become habitual to him was too difficult - or too internalised as tacit knowledge - to articulate.35

warding- further development of the touch

Harding's Plates IX and X (Figs. 121 and 122) present the general principles relating to the formation of the touch for all foliage, while Plates XI and XII (Figs. 123 and 124) deal specifically with oak and ash. Harding usually employs the expression "lines and touches of the pencil"36 rather than "the touch". The exceedingly detailed drawings and exposition in Bl pmentarv Art (1834) reveal the exploratory nature of his investigations of tree species and the means of depicting them, and provide further insights into the skills involved. Drawings of the masses of foliage and of small sections taken from them, bear a striking resemblance to Kennion's touch for the different species, which is not surprising if, as they claimed, the touch is derived direct from the trees. His style differs greatly from Kennion's and Strutt's. Using a soft pencil with great rapidity

35. See Collins 1974 p. 167. 36. This phrase was first used by Craig in 1806 (see Chapter Six above). and freedom37 (and exploiting its full tonal range) he avoids outlines as much as possible, while suggesting the solidity and contours of trunks and branches and the flexibility, roundness and semi-transparency of the foliage.

I have mentioned his distinctive, and probably unique, method of teaching by showing correct and incorrect drawings side by side. While adding another dimension to the comparative method, it also greatly assists communication of the necessary skills. For instance, by holding the pencil as instructed and repeatedly copying the correct exercises, the student could learn to perform accurate movements of the hand to produce strokes with the right emphasis and consistency of angle. As we have seen, such movements are not arbitrary but relate to the growth and structure of particular foliage. Harding also explains why particular strokes are wrong and others right. Awareness of common errors (possibly experienced by these authors in their own early investigations of the different species) and of the critical appraisal and continual practice required to succeed, further assists our understanding.

Unlike Kennion, Strutt and Loudon, Harding first illustrates and explains the general principles common to all trees (although it is doubtful if his own explorations began in this way). While recognising like Kennion, that the illuminated parts of objects attract the attention. He always works first with the shadows and the touch is incorporated in the shadows in a more fundamental way than it was for his predecessors. Progressive teaching of the drawing of shadows begins on Harding's Plate IX (Fig. 121) with a simple exercise (Ex. 6) in producing (using the pencil from left to right) small "crooked forms" from short

3 7 . Harding's "remarkable manipulative dexterity" is commented on in the Tr^pp-H al DNB (1869) and by Ruskin (1904 Vol. XV p. 170). 304 horizontal lines, equal in length and breadth and tone and in distance from each other. e*

Ex. 6, Plate IX Ex. 9, Plate IX (approx, one-third actual size)

These are then combined in Ex. 9 "to give the greatest variety to the form and size of the interstices" (spaces which represent the lights); the tone must be carefully graded from top to bottom as it appears in nature and care taken to "preserve the evenness" to give the appearance of "semi-transparency". If, however, "the lines are placed so close together as to be no longer visible... all appearance of leafing is lost; if too separated, they become too obvious and dissimilarity to Foliage becomes so apparent as to be unbearable" (pp. 36-37) .

F..W

Ex. 8, Plate IX Ex. 10, Plate IX (approx, one-quarter actual size)

On the same plate Harding shows "glaring errors" in the usual treatment of shadows: the strokes sloping from right to left and made darker at one end (Ex. 7) unequal in tone and at various distances (Ex. 8) and "seen to be following each other" (Ex. 10) (pp 36-37). Having learned the basic principles of the shadows, the student must "attain the required facility, freedom and flexibility in the characteristic outline" by practicing the »general form" of foliage (p. 38). 305

Ex. 11, Plate IX (approx, one-third actual size)

Obtaining the "general roundness" (shown at A, Ex. 11 on Plate IX (Fig. 121)), with "individual character" (as at B) is often found difficult, Harding says, "because of the two motions of the hand required at the same time" (p. 38) .

Ex. 1, Plate X Ex. 2, Plate X “correct" "incorrect" (approx, one-third actual size)

The method to achieve the "correct articulation... on the right- hand stroke" at the "extreme edge" by placing the emphasis "on the strokes outwards", is presented on Plate X (Fig. 122) at Ex. 1. This enables the leaves to be turned "in their natural positions" (as at A and B) and also "allows the hand its most natural motion" (pp. 38-39).38 In contrast, Ex. 2 demonstrates an incorrect manner of drawing these foliage masses, which

3 8 . If Harding employed the transfer process of lithography (although it is not certain that he did) it would have allowed him greater flexibility than drawing directly on the stone, and enabled him to be certain of the "correct" and "incorrect" images without continually holding the stone up to a mirror. 306

produces completely unnatural results. Harding points out the various faults: the flat appearance of the masses and the disconnection between the two sides, and the one-sidedness of the stroke and an unnatural emphasis of the upward stroke (pp. 39-40).

Ex. 8, Plate X Ex. 9, Plate X "correct" "incorrect" (approx, half actual size)

Ex. 8 is an enlarged portion from Ex. 1 with light lines indicating the actual form of each leaf in the group. (This represents the touch of ash, although the student is not told at this stage.) The complete form cannot be seen or shown, but "the imagination must not fail to receive a full impression of the whole truth by inference from the truth of what is done" (p. 42).

Drawings "should distinctly convey the notion whether there be few or many [leaves] and of what kind" (p. 45). These comments echo and explain more fully what Kennion had previously noted, and express the important function of the touch in filling the gap between what is understood of the foliation and what can actually be represented. The greater authority possessed by a drawing which is an impression based on knowledge and one which is merely impressionistic will be apparent. On the other hand. Ex. 9, an enlarged cluster from Ex. 2, demonstrates how its completed outlines would either "go on interminably or if meeting would make a form as dissimilar from Nature as possible" (p. 42) . 307

i. O

Ex. 3, Plate X “correct" (approx, one-third actual size)

In Ex. 3 Plate X (Fig. 122) the masses are indicated by outline only, slightly further away and more fully developed than in Ex. 1. They are formed by several touches grouped together, which reappear in Ex. 5 (see below) combined with appropriate shaded areas. Ex. 3 demonstrates how "the paper encompassed by the outline appears rounded" and the lines at A "connected with and... a counterpart of those at B", whereas in Ex. 2 (above) and Ex. 4 (below) the masses appear perfectly flat" (p. 40) .

Ex. 5, Plate X Ex. 4, Plate X “correct" “incorrect" (approx, one-third actual size)

Harding also criticises the inconsistency and confusion of strokes in Ex. 4 "contradicting each other and none perhaps agreeing with Nature", and the lack of "adaptation of means to an end", complaining that "in this way thousands attempt to draw 308

trees and are satisfied with caricaturing Nature" (p. 41). The student must not forget that his Drawing is composed of a number of lines of various forms; and however it may be supposed that the error of a single stroke is minute, yet if.... this small error is multiplied a hundred-fold it is then that it becomes a general defect and a glaring one (p. 55).

Comparing these two examples, Harding says that in Ex. 5 "much less of the means used can be seen" but that this does not mean less likeness to nature. In fact, "in proportion as the means used becomes evident, the likeness to Nature makes less impression" (p. 40). Ex. 5 illustrates how "the shadow is made to retire - a property naturally belonging to it"; the lights as a result appear "proportionately nearer and more brilliant" (p. 40). Since Ex. 5 - later identified as an ash (p. 56) - is technically "correct" it should express the character of the species. Up to a point it does but it is clear from later discussion of the shaded areas that further refinements are possible, as in Examples 3 and 4 on Plate XI (Fig. 123).

Ex. 3, Plate XI Ex. 4, Plate XI (approx, half actual size)

Harding says, If the student be sufficiently skilled to do what has already been put before him... by another adaptation of the strokes on the Shadows he may give an additional resemblance of Nature, and explain more powerfully the kind of Tree he would represent, and lose yet more the evidence of the means used. He must consider what kind of leaf the Tree has, whether broad or narrow, long or short, and choose the strokes accordingly (p. 43). By this means the character of the tree can be shown in "the extremities on the shadowed side" without employing an outline, giving "some additional likeness to Nature", and improving on Ex. 5 Plate X (p. 43) . Only in silhouette, where the character of foliage is seen distinctly, is an outline necessary (p. 40). The correct exercises are finally incorporated in the ash branches shown on Plate XII (Fig. 124). It is logical that Harding only identifies the early exercises as an ash once the touch is complete, and significant that he works from an actual species and not from imagination.

Summing up, Harding recommends the student to preserve and date all drawings and to criticise them step by step, beginning with the shadow, an analysis which will "excite his ingenuity". He asserts that refinement of the judgment and improved sensitivity will increase awareness of faults (pp. 55-56) and direct the efforts of the hand (p. 51). Although the first exercise may require "fifty trials", repetition "under certain modifications", will eventually allow the student "to do what he desires the first time he makes the effort" owing to the "extraordinary acquisition of power for future tasks in having done one well". He must have "a justifiable intention with regard to every line when about to put it on his paper; or when he leaves it there, a firm persuasion that its purpose is completely answered" (p. 58).39

In 1852, by which time naturalism was an established mode of landscape painting, Harding published Lessons on Trees. The tone reveals studying nature to have become an accepted starting point for its depiction. With less need to be persuasive on this count, this work is more concise. Having learned the basic touch, lessons progress as in Elementary Art - from the shaded areas to the lights. There is less information on pencil handling but Harding frequently refers the student to his earlier work. plate 2 (Fig. 126) shows the touch to express the characters of foliage of three very different trees - the ash, willow and oak, presented for comparison. Each lesson must be repeated "until the hand can produce the likeness of them with certainty and freedom" and to "direct the attention of the mind and the labour

3 9 . See Bax»ndall on "developing moments of intention" 1985 p. 63. 310 of the hand to what is essential" (p. 6), for instance, the "greater freedom" required by the hand in Lesson 6 is only possible once the previous lesson "has been thoroughly mastered" (p. 6). At the top (Lessons 5 and 6) can be seen the touch of ash (compare Ex. 3 Plate X Fig. 122)) and the means of generalising it with increasing distance. This can be compared with the touch for willow (Lesson 7, bottom left) and oak (Lesson 8, bottom right).

It will be apparent from the above discussion that Harding's teaching also emphasises the relationship between practical improvement and increasing understanding of the species being drawn. In addition, it demonstrates clearly how skills in tree drawing were acquired, developed, refined and communicated.

ppperto-i re of skills: learning bv doing

As I have said, the manuals present a tidied up version of the authors' original learning process; nevertheless the craft skills necessary to master and apply the touch can be learned if they are not already part of the artist's practice. Ravetz tells us that a "shared repertoire of skills and techniques is the basis for the communication of the novel, private experience into public knowledge",40 a comment particularly pertinent here. These artists appear to have developed the touch independently of each other (although it is possible that they may just not have acknowledged their indebtedness) but the attitude to the natural world, which provided the incentive for change, and the basic skills were common to all.

The creation of the touch involved various exploratory procedures and craft skills - the "knowing how" of understanding materials and techniques.41 This would have included a thorough

40. 1971 p. 76. 41. Ryle 1949 (Peregrine edition 1980 p p . 28ff) . 311 understanding of the capabilities of the instrument42 chosen for the task - the pencil - and growing confidence in using it. Let us consider this further. The pencil, although not an invented tool, had to be adapted to a particular purpose - the sustained exploration of tree species - and its capabilities thoroughly understood.

Like Kennion, Harding notes that there are no lines in nature, but in representing it pencil lines have somehow to be made to appear "natural". For instance, "curved surfaces require lines curved in the direction of the surface which show its precise undulation" and increase the appearance of rotundity; lines used to represent shaded areas can also be crossed in many directions "to neutralise them" (1834 p. 15). However, exhibiting "mechanical processes or the operation of the instrument" should be avoided (p. 14-15) . Strutt also distinguishes between the types of line required to represent various characters (1828b p. 40). Harding gives precise instructions on how to hold the pencil to allow the greatest freedom of movement of the hand, the aim being to produce firmness without hesitation and the ability to work rapidly to capture the movement in nature. It "should not be held stiffly like a pen but with the point 1 1/2"-2" from the ends of the fingers, which should all be somewhat bent, and the thumb nearly opposite them". He recommends practising the same movements many times to produce strokes with the right emphasis and consistency of angle so as to "give the Hand the most ready and skillful obedience to the Will" (1834 pp. 21-23). Although Harding tells his students that marks must be made with intention (p. 58), it is obvious that had he stuck to this rule too rigidly his own early explorations would almost certainly have been hampered. For teaching purposes, however, Harding and the others had to reconstruct their own explorations into an accessible progressive system. Faraday's similar exploratory freedom, which enabled many

42. See Harding 1834 p. 13. Ruskin called the pencil a "precious instrument" (1904 Vol. XV p. 106). For an excellent discussion of drawing see Petherbridge 1991. 312

"possibilities to be kept in play" is discussed by Gooding;43 Faraday had also to refashion his laboratory notes into a more suitable form before he could make them public.44 Expanding awareness, including improved visual powers and understanding - both of the subject matter and of the pencil's capabilities - would have resulted from manipulating the pencil, either to express the more obvious characters of a species, or just to see what would happen - how lines and marks, which are alien to nature, might be adapted to its representation and what the making of them might reveal about each species.45 Harré remarked on "the power of some techniques to provide answers to a number of different questions, sometimes not fully formulated when the equipment was first developed".46 Many specific questions would have arisen during the course of such explorations with the pencil; how best to express the truth of nature was always the fundamental problem to be tackled. Studies of the drawing practice of.such masters as Leonardo or Constable exphasise its dynamic nature; many transformations may occur within a single drawing.47

Tacit knowledge

These works show that manual dexterity combined with confidence born of understanding of the trees, are the necessary ingredients for acquiring the touch and giving it authority in use. The eye and the hand inform each other in a process of learning by doing; the mind is also actively involved, both consciously (as intellectual activity) and unconsciously in the form of tacit knowledge, which, as Polanyi might have said, has been interiorised and is no longer in the forefront of the mind

43. 1990a p. 117. 4 4 . See, for instance, the "disappearance of mental modelling" and the "fewer moves" apparent in Faraday's communication of his experiment (ibid, p p . 161 and 167). 4 5 . gee Petherbridge on drawing asserting its linearity (1990 p. 18). 46. Op. cit. p. 202. 4 7 . On Leonardo see Kemp 1981 (especially p p . 54-56) and 1990; Pinault 1991 p. 14. On Constable see Wilton 1977 p. xx. 313 affecting the conscious current activity.48 The touch, according to Kennion, would eventually become almost mechanical, to be performed "as determined by the mind" but without absorbing it (1816 p. 17). Ravetz called the unconscious aspect of this type of performance "the subtle interaction of the craftsman with his materials".49

Harding's discussion of the "natural motion" of the hand to characterise the "natural position" of the leaves (1834 p. 39) suggests that lines unnatural in nature are transformed by association. Such comments indicate the extent to which tacit skills operate in the performance of the touch. The idea of nature as being knowable and representable, and of truth as being what is natural, became so thoroughly interiorised during the artists' own learning process that it formed an unconscious power in their later drawing practice and teaching. Polyani offers a helpful explanation: in relying on a theory for understanding nature, he says, "we are attending from the theory to things seen in its light and are aware of the theory, while thus using it, in terms of the spectacle that it serves to explain".50 Here the theory is over-arching rather than specific.

Performing critically

Comparison forms a vital element of the experimental practice of drawing from nature; constant comparison with the originals in nature, as recommended in the manuals, would have required critical appraisal involving evaluation, reflection, modification, and so on. During this operation the artist would almost certainly have found - without consciously observing because that would inhibit his performance - the pencil eventually begin to trace the same type of mark on the paper

48. 1966 p. 71. 49. Op. cit. p. 75. 50. Op. cit. p. 17. 314 without the angle, length of stroke, and pressure requiring to be continually corrected or modified. These would have been, for example, short, stiff, angular marks for oak foliage or long, smooth, curved and flowing sweeps to denote the more pendulous growth and flexibility of species such as ash or elm. Once fixed as the touch for a species, they would eventually become almost mechanical and the skills internalised (as tacit knowledge), allowing greater freedom for the development of individual style and expressiveness.51 This process is both active and critical, a good example of what Gilbert Ryle, in his discussion of an "intelligent operation", referred to as "performing critically".52

This phrase appears to have greater explanatory power than Gombrich's discussion of representation as "making and matching".53 Although an element of making and matching is, of course, involved in drawing anything from nature, Gombrich's use of the term appears, in the first instance, not only too passive but too strongly Popperian to apply to the learning process which occurs in these manuals. Their authors believed that nature could be represented truthfully but there was no question of their taking a position of seeing is believing. Their study of trees was mediated by an awareness of the fallibility of sight and of extraneous circumstances governing appearances in nature (discussed by Gombrich, but separately from making and matching). They were also strong believers in the need for sensibility, intuition and imagination and, above all, they recognised the possibility of going beyond the touch; as Harding declared, "the artist at last draws without thinking of the rules which mechanically guided his early steps" (1834 p. 26).

5 1 . I have not so far discovered sketchbooks containing this type of work on trees but see my comment on the dynamism of Constable's sketches in Chapter Six. Such a master of tree drawing, able to go beyond the touch, might omit many stages; he might even hold an idea of the touch in his mind without having to produce xt on the page• 52. Op. cit. p p • 29ff. Baxftndall uses the phrase "purposeful activity (1985 p . 67) . 53. I960, for example p p . 22, 99, 148. 315

In this chapter I have tried to show how techniques of experimentation operated in an area of artistic endeavour closely related to the sciences of the early nineteenth century. Naturalism, unlike other modes of landscape painting, received its authority from the close study imposed on landscape painters by the conventions of science. The resulting images had - and have - potential for communication on a wider scale. Harding's assertion that "knowledge is power" seems to have added force here.

Detailed study of the manuals makes it possible to analyse the practice of these painters and to recover some, if not all, of the embedded skills. The type of exploratory practice which they embody yielded important insights for the artists resulting in a new mode of representation, in devices to overcome representational problems, and in knowledge new to science. Constable, for whom drawing and observation were inseparable, recognised that "a close observation of nature... discovers qualities existing in her which have never been portrayed before".54 Such discoveries might consist in individual facts or, perhaps more importantly, in an understanding of the permanent relationships between them. Experimental practice and painting possess another attribute in common: they make visible the previously invisible.

The early stages of an experiment may be derivative or haphazard, but refinement of practice through the interaction of eye, hand and mind enables the artist or experimenter to perform critically and frequently creatively. Recovering the craft and tacit skills embedded in experimental practice in art or science can increase our understanding of the results obtained. It is also important in illuminating the creative aspects of such processes which may be obscured, either by the performance appearing or becoming mechanical through repetition, or in the rationalisation and simplification necessary to communicate the experiment to others. If, as Ryle says, "efficient practice

5 4 . 1830, quoted Leslie op. oit. p. 179. 316 precedes the theory of it",55 a greater awareness of the meaning embodied in experimental procedures should deepen our understanding of scientific method as well as of artistic practice.

We have seen how, in tree drawing, the gap between what exists in nature and what can be represented was filled by the creation of the touch, and how truth and touch are linked because the touch is not arbitrarily chosen but derived from the character of the foliage of each species. Any difficulties connected with accepting the apparently disparate results of such experimentation can be dispelled if it is remembered that Loudon admired work of widely varying styles - from the precise delineation of Strutt to the painterly work of Constable. Kennion sums up the apparently universally held view on this: When the characters of nature are once known, all besides is derived from the mind of the artist. If he possess an elevated capacity, he will paint in a sublime style but still they will be nature (1815 p. 21).

55. Op. oit. p. 31. 317

CONCLUSION

The landscape painters discussed in this thesis, I have argued, should be considered within the context of contemporary science. I have highlighted the crucial role played by the conventions of natural history fieldwork in the genesis of naturalistic landscape painting in Britain, a subject that has received little or no attention. Field practice provided the context,, motivation and methodology for landscape painters working direct from nature from the middle of the eighteenth century. That it remained the model for the naturalism of the early nineteenth century has been demonstrated by the survey of attitudes to trees and the analysis of the process of tree drawing from nature; the latter showed that a naturalistic depiction is impossible without close study.1

We saw that the artists discussed in Part I all collaborated with working naturalists undertaking field investigations. Being plunged in medias res changed their perception of how nature should be portrayed; standing back and painting views according to various imposed theories of art was no longer appropriate. instead, they engaged with nature in the manner of their associates in an attempt to achieve a deeper understanding which would inform their depictions. The landscapes they produced were not idealised or imagined, but the result of study, and they reflect the rigour of the scientific gaze.

The effort expended by naturalists to obtain high quality visual material indicates its importance. Landscapes can be powerful modes of knowledge, a means of communicating complex ideas and information often in a more immediate way than description. Drawings made on the spot could be reproduced as prints to aid

1 . We saw that Gilpin kept his close observations of trees distinct from hie practice as an artist, but the possibilities for any landscape painter less steeped in the aesthetics of picturesque beauty, and prepared to strive for a closer relationship between observation and execution, are evident. 318 communication, comparison and interpretation by 'standing in' for objects or phenomena impossible to move from their natural settings. They could also help to recreate the circumstances, and particularly the exact location, of the original observations. They could contribute to cumulative evidence about the earth, for instance, the phenomena depicted by Price and Bourrit, Catcott, Griffith and Cleveley.

Although accuracy was the main requirement, artistic merit clearly increased the appeal of such landscapes to naturalists. Sandby's abilities enabled him to transcend topography. He absorbed what he learned from his early experiences of field practice and maintained and refined his natural vision in spite of the prevailing ethos. As a founder member of the Royal Academy, a popular teacher and regular exhibitor of "real views", Sandby's influence on other landscape painters must have been great, even without his considerable contribution to the development of watercolour, so important to the naturalistic genre. While the collaborations demonstrate that field practices were influential in the adoption of a naturalistic treatment, direct instruction by naturalists was not essential since the fieldwork model was available to assist any artist wishing to draw direct from nature. Tree drawing is a good example of this. Kennion, Strutt and others, having accepted the idea of naturalism, were able to teach themselves by close and prolonged study of living trees. In this they behaved as naturalists themselves. planting dominated the discourse around trees from the seventeenth century into the nineteenth. Political concerns motivated the successful planting and preservation campaign launched by the Royal Society through Evelyn's Svlva. the first of many treatises and works on trees by men of science, gardeners, horticulturists, naturalists, botanists and landscape painters. All helped to increase awareness and extend knowledge of living trees, which had not changed but had emerged from the background. Foucault's comment on animals appears equally apt 319

here: "what had changed was the space in which it was possible to see them and from which it was possible to describe them".2

while profit was the main inducement for landowners to plant, they also responded to Evelyn's advice for using trees to enhance their parks and gardens. The increasing practical element in the treatises indicates the necessity of improving understanding of the culture of trees in forestry, horticulture and garden design. Landscape design focussed attention on the appearance of trees; concern for their visual qualities was hugely important for landscape painting as well as gardening. However, the first tree drawings from nature resulted from an early antiquarian interest in ancient trees. Such trees became celebrated phenomena; pride of ownership prompted commissions for further portraits and prints reached a wide audience and were collected (and commissioned) by naturalists for their cabinets.

Patrons were motivated by diverse concerns and ideologies and a tree drawing could have multiple meanings and uses. Whatever these might be - and the treatises show that arguments for planting and preservation could be assisted by such depictions - patrons all expected drawings of specific trees to be recognisable. Artists therefore had a strong incentive to adopt a natural mode of depiction. A topographical treatment was inadequate and the post-Gilpin picturesque, although important in promoting a natural style of planting, and the preservation of exiting woodland, provided no specific guidance for drawing trees naturalistically. Works by landscape painters and naturalists show that, once again, the conventions of natural history fieldwork provided a 'grid' to assist artists to study trees. The picturesque qualities of ancient trees and woodland scenery were compatible with naturalism, but the methods of natural history, once adopted, displaced those aspects which were not, including a Gilpinesque treatment. Nevertheless,

2. 1970 p. 181. 320

Gilpin's Remarks on Forest Scenery is likely to have encouraged painters to study trees since it opened the way for a deeper understanding of species and an emphasis on their "faithful" representation. Painters like Strutt, Kennion and Harding, who studied living trees over many years, acquired a unique knowledge of their external structure and growth and broke new ground in terms of naturalistic depiction.

Works on forest trees entered the post-1760 Linnaean-dominated domain of botany with Hunter's addition of their reproductive characters (beautifully drawn by Mueller) and Latin nomenclature in his editions of Silva. This somewhat paradoxical emphasis on the reproductive parts in a work on forest trees merely highlights the attitude of Linnaean botany to whole trees until the late 1820s. However, Hunter's new approach appears to have stimulated interest among other Fellows of the Royal and Linnean Societies, resulting in further publications (smaller, cheaper and therefore more widely accessible). While not neglected, less emphasis is placed on the reproductive parts. For instance, while Hunter only included two drawings of forest trees (famous ancient specimens), now each genus is illustrated - once again by landscape painters. Finally, with Loudon's Arboretum, we find them providing scale drawings of every species.

Botanical interest in trees was increased by fundamental changes which took place in botany in the 1830s, occasioned by the more general adoption of the natural system and the influence of the radical ideas of continental philosophical botany. Attention was directed away from the classification of dried specimens in herbariums to a greater emphasis on the study of living plants in the field and to the investigation of internal structure. The entire plant now came under scrutiny. Field experience, ranging from horticulture to medical botany and early studies of plant distribution, appears to have been significant in predisposing many naturalists and botanists to favour the natural system. The species question was a major concern to taxonomists and field botanists owing to their proliferation under the Linnaean system. A more exact knowledge of species became imperative and 321 the natural system tended to reduce their numbers by allowing characters of the whole plant and other factors to be taken into consideration.

Trees featured in inquiries into plant physiology and morphology and ancient trees were prominent in the debate concerning the laws of plant life. Drawings stood proxy, in similar fashion to natural history landscapes, for these unusual productions of nature, facilitating discussion of their age, size, structure and species, while knowledge of plant organs was vital in explaining external form, this did not make tree drawings redundant, since outward appearance was deemed to be an indication of internal structure.

Goethe wrote that the advantage of making something visible lay in its abstraction from the mass of detail in the natural world and in its representation in a more accessible form.3 Loudon and Burnett understood visual communication. They expected tree drawings, whether of particular trees or drawn from memory, to bear the stamp of nature, always emphasising general patterns of structure and growth rather than individual peculiarities. In other words, to exhibit what Harding referred to as "the power of concentrated knowledge", akin to the explanatory power of a scientific theory. However, since drawing trees from nature demanded a different type of expertise to botanical art, botanists used work by Strutt or commissioned other landscape painters. Strutt's drawings were exemplars in their ability to communicate information regarding structure and growth patterns; their naturalism would have inspired other artists to draw from nature. Although the artist's skill may make this appear easy, the survey of tree manuals revealed the huge difficulties involved and the years of practice required. Dissatisfaction with the prevailing treatment of trees in landscape painting meant that the early artist-authors had first to change attitudes so that studying nature could be accepted as a viable basis for landscape painting.

3 . Letter to Luke Howard, quoted Badt 1950 pp. 8-11. 322

From the innovations of the earlier works to the later concentration on refinement of observational and practical skills, these manuals are significant chronicles of change. The principles governing tree drawing from nature which they embody help to clarify the meaning of naturalism - Constable's "natural painture". As Gooding pointed out, new meanings emerge from new practices.4 "Truth" was the guiding concept; the purpose of studying trees was to produce "truthful" representations of each type and in this endeavour the perceived concerns and values - and practices - of science and of art were inextricably linked. The manuals allow us access to some of the processes involved in naturalism which can only be surmised from looking at a painting or drawing. However, they still represent the public face of years of private study; complex insights and skills are communicated in an accessible, and simplified, form. To recover the skills and comprehend the initial processes of learning and discovery we must look behind this public face.

These teachers realised that knowledge of distinguishing characters was the key to faithful representation. These were learned by a thorough analysis of the various parts - through drawing - and this finally enabled them to be recombined with a full understanding of their relation to each other and to the whole. Pickstone's comment on the intermediate position of analytical understandings between natural history and experimentalist practices is relevant to the study of tree parts. He says that such understandings "involve deconstruction into elements, in order to make classifications, or to better understand (and regulate) technical processes".5 Since the study Qf trees was new, analogies with more familiar procedures were made. The idea of breaking down the trees into basic elements is most common, but Harding also uses a mechanical model; trees are »taken apart" like machines to learn how they are made and "how to put the whole together".6 This had dangers, since in the art

4 . 1989 p. 184. 5 . 1994 pp. 111-H3. 6 . 1834 p. 56. 323 world 'mechanical' denoted either an habitual manner or servile copying of nature.7 All the authors are at pains to stress that this stage can be transcended by students learning to see for themselves and by developing dexterity and freedom of handling.

The drawings of parts, although 'tidied up' for teaching purposes, form a bridge between the teaching material and the stages of the author's own original learning process. This allowed access to the skills involved in, for instance, the creation of the "touch" for the foliage of different trees. Loudon's commendation of Strutt's "scientific knowledge of the touch" indicated that the touch was derived from the character of the foliage and not arbitrarily chosen, and this is confirmed by comparing the various manuals. In considering the crucial importance of this device, Wittgenstein's definition of understanding as "now I can go on"8 is helpful, and no doubt relevant to all forms of experimentation. Once the link between truth and touch was understood, it enabled the artists to proceed. The touch filled the gap between what exists in nature and what can be represented - the selection and generalisation necessary within a picture space - allowing general patterns to emerge.

I have argued that the innovatory stages of tree drawing, and particularly the devising of the touch, represented an exploratory type of experiment involving craft and tacit skills which, as Gooding's reconstructions of Faraday's work have shown, are also common to laboratory experimenters. It was a purposeful activity, involving learning to see and learning to do; the drawing process itself was integral to the systematic enquiry being conducted. Emphasis in the manuals on the art of seeing shows the importance placed on visual skills. Lindley said that "truth as regards plants can only be really judged by the eye of intelligence'9 and we saw that refinement of

7 . Barrell 1986 p p . 15-16. 8. Remark 151 Philosophical Investigations 1958 (1986 edition p. 59e) . 9. 1854 p. 5. 324 the vision brought awareness of the differences between the characters of trees; it also improved selection and the performance of the hand.

In the early stages, by using the pencil as an exploratory tool, discoveries were made, problems overcome and modifications and refinements effected. The most challenging problem in the formation and use of the touch, was making pencil marks and lines appear natural when no lines exist in nature. Deconstruction into elements was the first step but these basic building blocks had to be reconstructed into the foliage masses. We saw the critical performance, involving interaction of mind, eye and hand, which met this challenge. Constant practice internalised skills as tacit knowledge, allowing greater freedom for the development of individual style and expressiveness; the touch could be transcended without violation of nature.

Understanding more exactly the visual and manual skills and exploratory processes of tree drawing illuminates the meaning of naturalism. It confirms the relationship of this mode of landscape painting to the practical activity of natural history and demonstrates the dual role of landscape painters as naturalists and experimenters. 325

BIBLIOGRAPHY

MANUSCRIPTS

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Norwich County Library William Crotch MSS: _ anat-omy of a Tree Notebook of 1803 (MS 11073) . _ Thp Road to Learning (MS 11277).

Nottingham University Manuscripts Department Hayman Rooke: Descriptions and Sketches of some Remarkable Trees ■in i-hft Park at Welbeck, in the Countv of Nottingham. a Seat of the Duke of Portland 1790.

Public Record Office Anon Pulps and Orders for Royal Military Academy 1776 (W030/120). Records of the Ordnance Drawing Room, Tower of London: _ Fogi st~.er of Draughts in the Drawing Room 1743 (W055/2281) . Robert Dawson: A Course of Instruction in Military Surveying and m a n Drawing Proposed to be given to the Assistant Fnffineers under the Tuition of R. Dawson 1803 (includes loose drawings of stones and mountains taken from them) (WO55/960). 328

William Roy: General Instructions for the Officers of Engineers employed in Surveying (draft and fair copies) (WO30/54 and W030/115). - orders and Instructions to be Observed by Colonel Watson's assistants in Reconnoitring, Examining.Describing. Pep-resenting and Reporting any Country District or particular Spot of Ground they may at any time be ordered to Reconnoitre and Report (WO30/115). - Practical observations on surveying (WO30/115) .

Royal Academy of Arts Catalogues and Press Cuttings 1790-1840.

Royal Institution of Great Britain Humphry Davy: Commonplace Book 1813-1815. Index to Lectures 1799-1929. Minutes of the General Monthly Meetings 1828-1842.

Science Museum Luke Howard: Cloud Studies (Picture Collection).

Sussex County Records Office Records of the Library of the Earls of Egremont.

Swiss Cottage Local History Library Records relating to the Hampstead Literary and Scientific Institution (f. 1833) and the Hampstead Public Library of General Literature and Elementary Science (f. 1833) .

Victoria and Albert Museum Prints and drawings by John Constable, Thomas Hearne, Edward Kennion, John Laporte, Francis Place and Paul Sandby.

Warwick Records Office Pennant Archive: - correspondence with Benjamin Stillingfleet (TP287/1, TP367/2) . - journals of Thomas Pennant's visit to Ireland in 1754 (TP19/1-2). - Letters from John Gideon Loten (TP289/2) and James Yorke (TP400/4). 329

- Miscellaneous natural history observations, plans, drawings, etc. sent to Pennant (TP339/17, TP339/25; TP290/8) . - Notebook containing queries for Joseph Banks on his Newfoundland voyage April 1766 (TP 44).

The Wellcome Institute for the History of Medicine Royal College of Surgeons: membership records. Society of Apothecaries: membership records.

Whitworth Museum, Manchester Sir George Beaumont: drawings and sketchbooks.

Woburn Abbey The Dukes of Bedford Archive: - Records relating to trees and to artists and botanists who worked at Woburn. - Humphry Repton Red Book of Woburn 1804. 330

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