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Scenes from an Artist's Life
Chapter 24
" Short-sighted man, wha scarcely sees an inch before his nose."
MY FIRST LOOK AT GLASGOW-FRIENDS AND ADVISERS-A SECOND TRIAL OF THE
CITY-JOHN RODGER-JAMES COOK OF PAISLEY-TWO HAPPY HUNTERS-A KlNDLY
CARVER-DR. BOWRING AT PAISLEY- PROVOST BISSET-SKETCHING AT
DUNTOCHER-FAREWELL TO KILMARNOCK.
MY ideas of seclusion were condemned, first, by the voice of nature, and next, by the power of
friendship. I received a letter from Dr. Pender, Duntocher, saying, "Arise, go to Glasgow, there in
Jamaica Street paint the portraits of Mr John Lindsay, calenderer, his wife, and son." I started under
new inspiration, arrived, and was welcomed to a home in their house. I finished the portraits to the
great satisfaction of the subjects and their friends. Mr Lindsay declared that it was lost time
staying in Kilmarnock. " Come at once to the head of the house: Glasgow is an inexhaustible field
for any occupation, and if you will work at the shoes, people have feet here as well as in
Kilmarnock, and far more heads to pick and wale on." I now called on my friend, Mr William
Mutter, then a young man, who had his office in Miller Street. I had concluded that like most young
men, he would have forgot all about his promise of patronising me when I came to Glasgow; but in
this I was mistaken. He invited me to dine with him that day; and at his house I was introduced to
his brother James. After dinner, William said, " Now, James, this is Hunter, of whom you have
heard me often speak: will you sit for your portrait ?" James took a hearty laugh and said, "
William, man, I wadna gie a bawbee for my likeness." " Neither wad I, for my ain looking at, but
James, to be serious, wad you gie a bawbee for mine." "Ah, William,that's a different story; I wad like
to have yours." " Then sit for me, and I'll sit for you." " Done." William said, "Now, Hunter, there's
twa instead of one for you. We canna gie you a bed, but look out for that to yourself. Our breakfast is
at nine, dinner at four, tea at six. Be at home here for your meat as long as you please. Take as many
jobs as you can get, and we'll do what we can for you."
William spoke like Mr Lindsay as to Glasgow being a proper field. I also saw it to be large enough ,
but the removing of a family was a subject that required some serious forethought. I wished to know
something of the field experimentally before bringing the family. I had strange fears regarding the big
town. I got a few portraits ; but the coasting season coming on, a blank took place, and I had to go
home again to Kilmarnock. Old Mr Lindsay spoke like a man who knew the world, and he said, "
You have to learn what Glasgow is, and if once you were as well acquaint with the ways of Glasgow
as you are with Kilmarnock, you would never think of going back. You will observe that about six
weeks before the May term people begin to look serious. There are so many real wants, that
superfluous things, such as portraits, must be laid aside for a time, as the most of the people in
Glasgow are living at the outstreteh of their tether. There is a great deal of outside show, and you
wad think that they vie with each other in a' sorts o' nonsense. But, when the rent time comes in
sight, and servants' wages, and preparation to go down the water, you wad really think that fires
broke out in places where, if stock had been taken in the proper way of business, it would have
saved such a rapid and roasting wind-up. Now, your chance would be to take as muckle as you
could get out of the time of prosperity, and when the folks go to the coast, you could either follow
them or go to the country. You have better outlets from Glasgow than you have from Kilmarnock."
This is a fair sample of Mr Lindsay's experience, who said, " Mind you, I have had a while's
experience of the town, both in raising a business and knocking down the fragments of many a
spoiled one to the highest bidder, for you must know that I was an auctioneer for some time. Take all
the good you can get as you go along, and pay attention to whatever you commence to in
Glasgow, and there is not a better or safer place for a man to rear a family."
This was a sensible, solid, and what I have lived to find a pretty fair portrait of the place.
Mr Mutter, while insisting that I should bring the family to Glasgow, said, " Don't be afraid; if you
keep your health you can work at the shoes here as well as in Kilmarnock; and as for what money
you want to keep you moving, I'll supply you. And, recollect, when you are from home don't allow
the wife and family to be ill off; come to me when you need any thing.,'
I went home during summer, and returned to the city in the winter; for, with all the advice and offers
of friendship, I was determined to be fully satisfied within myself that I was justified in removing the
family. I had a turn of portraits; but the dark days came on in November, and the rent day made its
appearance, and where the rent was to come from was a mystery. Snow came and whitened the
earth. Frost came, and put a crust on it. The atmosphere grew closer and darker: so did my hopes.
I had lodgings to pay. The grandeur of Glasgow was nowhere to be seen. I was walking in Glasgow
Green one day, and through the gloom saw the apparition of part of the town; and when looking the
airt where I knew Kilmarnock to lie, I thought of crossing the Clyde on the ice, and going a
steeple-chaise journey home, through parks and over hedges, for I could scarcely help thinking that
I was taking a similar way in art.
In this mood, I stood near the base of Nelson's Monument. There the thought struck me, before I
take such a step, I'll go and see Mr William Mutter, and thank him for his kindness, for it is not
likely that I will be in Glasgow again. I hurried to Miller Street. I opened his office door: he was in.
He held out his hand to me, and said, " Hunter, I'm glad to see you. I have a job for you. I was in
my uncle's last night, and contracted for five portraits-indeed, for the whole family. Are you
engaged at present ?" My utterance was almost choked when I said no. " Come away, then, and
I'll introduce you to my uncle; and after that you will be able to look after the rest of the work
yourself." We went to Clydeside, and there I was introduced to Bailie John MitchelI. Breakfast-time
next day, was set for a start. I finished the portraits, and on the last day of 1837 left Glasgow to
open a new year in Kilmarnock.
Being either slow of faith, or darkened in discernment, I had not yet seen my way to remove to
Glasgow. One particular friend, whom I had made while wearing the beard, advised me to give a
year's trial to the place; and, if the whole year would, by its good and bad, be as good as the shoes
at home, then I might expect it to grow better. I thought this a rational suggestion, and determined
to follow it; and did so.
This last-named acquaintanee was out at Kilmarnock during the time I wore the beard. As he
passed my door I got a glance of him, and thought it was my friend John Ingram from the Hangh. It
was a wet, dirty day. I hurriedly drew on my boots, on with hat and coat, and without a necktie, with
one of my trouser legs stuck up above the boot and the apron on, in a hurried, joyous excitement I
out and after the supposed friend. With the drizzly rain in front I did not see well. As we neared the
Ladies' Walk, on the Bonnyton Road, the stranger looked round, and seeing me coming in such
haste after him, he stepped off the road into the walk, and I at his heels. Here he looked round
rather alarmed like. I observed now that it was not Ingram. The stranger enquired, "Where does this
road lead to?', I answered, " Oh, sir, that road has no end; it is lost in a park there.', He turned,
saying, " Oh, then, I'm mistaken; I intended to have had a walk." I turned along with him, saying, " I
am mistaken also,' He still kept a watchful eye on me. I saw he was rather suspicious as to the
company he had. I said, " I thought that you were John Ingram, a particular friend of mine. Hence I
followed you so unceremoniously and hurriedly." He had heard of Mr Ingram, but said that he was
from Glasgow. " What place ?,' enquired I. " Dalmarnock Road." " Do you know a Mr George
Cummin, who lives there?" " Most intimately," said he, " and, if I am spared, I will see him to-night,
and take tea with him.,' " Will you be so kind as say that I intend to see him next week ?', "And
who will I say ?" enquired the stranger, looking more composed at me. " Say Hunter, the portrait
painter.' I thought someway that everybody should know me, and if they did not it was not my fault.
The stranger said, " Indeed. Do you know that I was to be introduced to you the first time you came
to Glasgow ? I hear George often talk of you, but, dear me, man, I never thought to see you in that
shape."
This new friend was John Rodger, whose portrait I painted the first time I came in, and who has
often since patronised me. There is still sunshine around John Rodger's name, and that of his
family, which gave my family a welcome to the big town.
I had formed a strong attachment to Paisley. I had been introduced there to Mr James Cook,
confectioner and artist. My friend Lawson the currier introduced me to him. He was one of those
rare constellations in the human family whose memory is dear to every one who had the pleasure of
his confidence. He was a man who could think, and dared to express his thoughts like a man. At
one time he had to take a pleasure trip to America for giving free expression to such advanced
opinions as those which in after years brought the Reform Bill to be the law of the land. He had
returned from America before I knew him. He had formed a brotherly friendship in the land of the
stranger with Willie Orr, frae Stewarton. They were brothers in sentiment, and when Cook found that
I was intimate with Lawson and Willie, he said that I required no other certificate. I had for a time a
home in Cook's house. He introduced me to some genuine men in Paisley. At that time Paisley
abounded in clubs, bearing different names and different characters. Cook was a member of a club
whch had grown out of a literary and artistic race of members, to whom I was introduced by him.
There were poets in and out of the club, who gave a spirit to Paisley above every other town I have
known. They seemed well acquaint with each other's frailties, and had them set in measured style.
When Mr Hunter, tobacconist, High Street, sent for me to go to Duntocher, I had to borrow five
shillings frae Black Kennedy's wife to take me on what I called a foreign mission. Mr Hunter said,
before I started to cross the Clyde and enter Dumbartonshire, that he would feel uneasy till I came
back, as he had not thoroughly concluded the bargain for me. When I came back next day and told
him that I had arranged for four portraits in one house, he looked in my face and said, " Man, Hunter,
I'm glad." I looked him as full in the face, and said, "Would you like to see two happy Hunters in one
house?" "Yes, I would," he answered. " Then," said I, "lend me five and twenty shillings." It was
down on the counter in a twinkling, with the remark, " If you want more just say, or if at any time
you wish money, call and get it."
I have often heard that there were just two kinds of Hunters -a bitter bad, and a real good kind. I
had set down William Hunter for one of the best, and, as yet, when I meet him there is health in his
look; and when I pass the door of his auld shop I look with respect on the very gap in the wall for
the sake of him who in other days made Paisley feel a home and caused hope to dwell there.
Still moderate in my charges, though I got a job it was soon eaten up. I had now fairly resolved to
remove my family from Kilmarnock either to Glasgow or Paisley. Mr James Martin, carver and
gilder, was at that time in Paisley. I went to him with the money I had got from Mr Hunter in my
pocket, quite brisk, fit for a cash transaction in purchasing material for the portraits in Duntocher. I
got my parcel, and threw down the money. Mr Martin pushed it back, saying, " No, sir, you are
from home, and have not as yet pocketed anything. Keep your money till you have earned more."
The look with which Mr Martin pushed back that money was as genuine as the one with which I had
got it from Mr Hunter. " And, moreover," said Mr Martin, "when you are in town you are welcome to
a home in my house."
These genuine, spontaneous feelings of friendship have never faded from my memory, and I hope
never will.
I was by Mr Martin introduced to Mr Wighton, artist. We were often bed-fellows in his house.
Wighton was kindly in his manner, gentle in his nature, and full of humanity. When I would arrive at
Mr Martin's, if Wighton was at home, tea was ordered directly. Every conceivable comfort was
ordered by him; as if I had been his son or brother having a full claim on his home comforts as my
own.
I was one day walking the street in Paisley when my eye caught sight of a large bill, announcing a
meeting that night in the auld Laigh Kirk, to present a vote of sympathy to Dr Bowring on his defeat
at the parliamentary election in Kilmarnock and her sister burghs. The Paisley Radicals were in
great force at the meeting. The virtues of Dr Bowring were weighed against the want of principle in
the voters who had let a good man go for a shadow. Kilmarnock was painted as a place where no
man who wished to retain his manhood and keep good company would stay if he could help it. I
listened to the speeches, and felt a peculiar sympathy with Dr Bowring. Towards the end, it was
announced that an adjourned meeting would be held in the Town's House- alias Peter Frazer's
hotel-at the Cross. I, like the unco guide in some kirks, slippet awa' at the close, and reached "
Peter's room " when it was empty, the gas being ready for lighting up. The place had just as much
light as showed its gloom. I felt haunted by the sound of my own footfall. I began to enquire within
myself what business I had here. I have a wife and family in Kilmarnock, and how can they be
benefitted by my wandering alone in an empty hall in Paisley ? In a little, another dull-looking man
entered. He also paced the hall to and fro. As we passed at one time, he looked in my face and
enquired, " Do you know the Doctor ?" I said no but that I had seen him at Kilmarnock when he was
elected their member. He seemed to think that Kilmarnock deserved to be treated like the cities of
the Plain.
In a little the hall began to fill, and I kept my eye on my early companion. He took his stand near
the door, and I saw that he was determined to keep it. When the hall was pretty well filled, Dr
Bowring entered, accompanied by the Provost, Magistrates, Town Councillors, and other
gentlemen; and along with the Doctor was Ibrahim Bey, an illustrious stranger from Egypt. As the
Doctor entered the hall, my dull companion seized him by the hand, and seemingly gave him a cordial
welcome. I did not hear whether he spoke or not, but I seized the Doctor by the hand next, and said, "
Doctor, a non-elector from Kilmarnock offers you his hand." As Jock and the whalp's wife wad say, it
had the desired effect. He seized my hand with both of his, and looking in my face said, " I could trust
my heart with them ! I could trust my heart with them !" It was from the heart he said it. He held, and
I held-the crowd pressed on, and we moved on. I was thus led by the hand on to the platform, and
seated by the side of the Egyptian stranger. I sat there as the representative of the non-electors of
Kilmarnock.
The sederunt of speech and song went on till near midnight; and when about to break up I heard
some of the members who sat on the lower seats propose that they should adjourn upstairs and
review the night's proceedings. I went up with them. I had a knowledge of the Provost being among
them. When we went upstairs it was a free and easy. I had taken my seat beside the Provost,
recollecting Peter M'Millan's theory that it was a great matter for an artist to be seen in decent
company. I looked round the group; there were twenty-nine in this select gathering, and I did not
recognise a known face but my friend James Cook. The night " drave on wi' sangs and clatter."
There seemed to be a fine appreciation of Dr Bowring's character, and a low estimate of the
Kilmarnock electors. I was talking freely to the Provost at intervals, and in due course he said there
was an individual sitting at his right hand; he did not know whether he could sing or not, but he was
sure that he had an easy gaun tongue, and could say something. Mr Cook then rose and said that
it was not right that the Provost of Paisley should sit in the company of either an unknown or
unworthy individual. He then went on to say that I was one of the right sort, and he was sure that if I
had been in possession of the power to keep the Doctor in office I would have used it; and he
finished by explaining my mission in the place, and hoped that I would find patronage among the
friends assembled. I made speeches, and received an invitation from the Provost to visit him and
take dinner with him the following day. It was a great night, and has left its mark without a stain.
I attended on the Provost next day in fine time, had dinner, and some friendly conversation. I should
have said that it was Provost Bisset with whom I was now in friendly chat; and on his asking about
my prospects in the place, I informed him that they were black. I asked his patronage, hoping that if
he granted that he might be followed by others. I named terms. He said that I had come so close
upon him that he did not see how he could get quit of me without consenting. He did consent. I
painted his portrait, and portraits also of his wife, son, and daughter, which was the whole family. I
was successful in all, and had the Provost as a friend ever after.
I painted a number of the members of the Club, and came down through various grades of society. I
have now painted one hundred and eighteen portraits in Paisley, among whom were three Provosts.
I was whiles planning to domicile in Paisley instead of Glasgow, and had even commenced to look
for a house.
After one raffle in Paisley, I got up another to come off in Duntocher. I had a view of Duntocher
among the prizes. I had painted a view for Mr James Templeton, and when taking the sketch it was
a cold day in March. I sat on a stone on the Golden Hill while sketching, and at intervals rose and
walked about, sitting down again to the task with new vigour. I was said to have a striking
resemblance to a Doctor in the place, and to prove the fact, while I was in the act of sketching I had
been watched by a servant girl, who came in great earnest to Mr Templeton and Bulloch the miller,
who were standing together at Mr Templeton's door. She said, " Oh, men, would you go up to the
Golden Hill and fetch down Dr. Railton, for he is terrible fou. He is sitting in the lea of the hedge on
a stane. He rises whiles and daunners about without kennin' whaur to gang, and he just sits down
again. If he was seen it would hurt his character. " The two came on the mission of mercy-only to
get a good laugh.
The raffle was a success. I had two guineas for the view of the place, and ten guineas at the raffle.
Then, at Yoker, on my way home, I painted in two days the portrait of John Adam, contractor, who
was cutting the canal which runs from the Forth and Clyde to the Clyde and to the Cart, opening a
traffic to Paisley and other places.
Thus I was strengthened to lift the family and the sticks from Kilmarnock to Glasgow, and am still
at the old corner where I sat down, running the twenty-ninth year. Looking back ower that sma'
space of time, queer changes have taken place.
Among my particular acquaintances in Kilmarnock, a few marked the sense of the loss the town
was about to suffer. Among those was auld Ringan Paisley. He came to see me on the evening
before I left, and made a short speech with the tear in his e'e. It was an honest tear, and it glistens
in my memory yet. " John, I'm sorry that we're to lose your fellowship; Kilmarnock can ill afford to
lose an honest man. However, you hae my best wishes wi' you, and I sincerely hope that the
change is for your good. Fareweel." The feeling touched my heart, and remains. Rare old Ringan,
adieu !