62 SlJi EDWIN LANDSEER, R.A. 



land," and "Wild Cattle of Chillingham," were his other contributions of the year; 

 in both, the animals were of rather extraordinary size. The latter was stated in the 

 catalogue to be the property of the Earl of Tankerville, and was introduced with the 



following lines : — 



" Mightiest of all the beasts of chase 

 That roam in woody Caledon, 

 Crashing the forest in his race, 



The mountain-bull comes rushing on. 

 Fierce, on the hunter's quiver'd band, 

 He rolls his eye of swarthy glow, 

 Spurns, with black hoof and horn, the land, 

 And tosses high his mane of snow." — 



Sir Walter Scott. 



The annexed engraving, " The Stag at Bay," is from a picture exhibited at the 

 Academy in 1846, which was either painted for, or bought by. Lord Godolphin. It is 

 a large canvas, showing a Highland lake, on the border of which a stag has been 

 brought to bay by a couple of the famous breed of Scotch deerhounds. The stag is as 

 noble a specimen of the forest herd as Landseer ever delineated, or met with when 

 stalking in the Scottish Highlands; for even in this hour of its agony and peril there is 

 a grandeur of bearing worthy of the monarch of glen and mountain. One of its 

 opponents the gallant fellow has placed, at any rate for the present, hors de combat^, it 

 lies on its back howling, as if in the agony of death ; the other dog " gives tongue " 

 as loudly as it can. The menace of the stag and the excitement and barking of the 

 hound are described by the most natural action ; and, in the case of the latter, by the 

 erection of the hair on its back. With such truth and spirit is the whole painted, that 

 one can scarcely avoid entering into the interest of the scene, and with all our sympathy 

 centred in the animal which has so bravely defended itself against its assailants. The 

 picture forcibly recalls to mind some stanzas of an old song — it was old in my young 

 days, when I helped to swell the chorus of " On, on to the Chase : " — 



" On, on to the chase, for the bugle is sounding. 



The wild deer has started, and iiies like the wind ; 

 Over brushwood and brake with fleet foot he is bounding, 

 Mocking huntsman and hound, who toil panting behind. 



" He has clear'd the dark forest ; its branches still quiver, 

 Where his wide-spreading antlers have toss'd them aside ; 

 And the foam is yet white on the brink of the river. 

 Where, desperate and madden'd, he plunged in the tide. 



" But, alas ! noble victim, thy spirit is failing. 

 Thy struggle for life and for freedom is vain ; 

 Thy courage, thy swiftness, thy strength unavailing, 

 Thou never shalt bound through the forest again." 



