George Morland: Sixteen examples in colour of the artist's work — Background and Themes

Independence and Method

Cuming describes how Morland, after his apprenticeship, rejected offers from both Sir Joshua Reynolds and Romney. Reynolds urged that the boy be brought up in 'the grand line' of art, but his father declined; Romney offered a salaried pupillage, which Morland himself refused. This pattern of independence extended to his working method: Morland 'never made studies, but developed the picture under his hand as he worked upon it.' Cuming attributes the 'straightforward simplicity' of Morland's art partly to this improvisational approach. The painter also avoided studying other artists' works, fearing he would become an imitator, and instead went 'direct to Nature for all he required.'

Colour and Composition

Cuming notes that Morland's colour schemes were 'subdued rather than brilliant,' yet he held a firm principle: 'a touch of pure red should appear in every picture.' This recurring detail is traceable across the plates. The composition, Cuming observes, is 'rarely otherwise than pleasing,' a notable achievement given Morland's lack of preparatory sketches. The author also points out that Morland was 'not conspicuously successful' when painting sheep, a specific limitation that contrasts with his general skill. The plates themselves—titles such as Idleness, Diligence, The Deserter's Farewell, and Justice; or, The Merciless Bailiff—suggest a moral or narrative dimension that Cuming touches on only lightly.

A French Connection

Cuming introduces a speculative comparison between Morland and the French painter Jean Baptiste Siméon Chardin (1699–1779), noting that the resemblance in their figure subjects is 'certainly striking.' He links this to Morland's maternal French nationality, suggesting 'hereditary talent from the maternal side.' However, Cuming acknowledges that no marriage record for Morland's parents has been found in parish registers. He also notes, perhaps pointedly, that Chardin's two daughters died in infancy—a detail that does not directly connect to Morland but hints at the biographer's wider research. This section exemplifies Cuming's willingness to offer informed conjecture while marking its limits.

Cuming's text, originally published in 1910, serves as a concise companion to the plates rather than a full biography. Readers may find it useful to examine the images alongside his remarks on colour, method, and subject matter. The introduction's brevity—under 6,000 words—leaves room for personal observation of the sixteen works, which range from rural scenes to moral allegories. Cuming's voice is that of a knowledgeable guide who respects the painter's singularity without overinterpreting it.

I found myself lingering over Cuming’s quiet praise of Morland’s refusal to copy others, trusting instead whatever the lane and hedgerow offered directly. That same unhurried patience seemed to follow me into If You're Going to Live in the Country — Reading Notes, where the knowing is just as modest, just as rooted in looking carefully rather than posing smartly. Two different worlds, one familiar tenderness.