A Silent Observer in Westminster
The year is 1720. In a London courtroom, a man named Benjamin Ferrers stands to settle a legal matter. He cannot hear the proceedings, nor can he speak to the judge. Instead, he relies on the movement of fingers—a language of signs used by Mr. Ralph Russell to bridge the gap between the silent artist and the law. Ferrers, deaf from birth, navigates a world of visual cues. He can write his name with ease and identify counties on a map, yet the written word remains a difficult terrain for him. He lives in Westminster, a man defined by a profound silence that does not hinder his ability to perceive the world around him.
His perception is not merely functional; it is acute. While others rely on the spoken word to understand character, Ferrers observes the subtle shifts in a subject's face and the specific geometry of their posture. This heightened visual literacy allows him to capture the essence of those who sit for him, translating silent observations into permanent pigment.
The Weight of the Gaze
Ferrers’s career is marked by moments where the subject is no longer able to sit for him. One such moment involves William Beveridge, the Bishop of St. Asaph. The Bishop had famously declined to sit for a portrait during his life, but death provided the opportunity. Following the Bishop's passing in 1706–7, Ferrers painted him from his corpse. This work, now held in the Bodleian Library at Oxford, remains a significant piece of his legacy, later reproduced through engravings by William Sherwin, Michael van der Gucht, and Trotter.
His commissions extend into the halls of power and the private estates of the English elite. His portfolio includes:
- The Court of Chancery under Lord Chancellor Macclesfield, featuring portraits of Macclesfield, Sir Philip Yorke, and Sir Thomas Pengelly.
- Three Ladies of the Leman Family and their Dogs on a Terrace (1728), currently held in the Tate Gallery.
- Portraits of Thomas Cockman, Master of University College, Oxford, and his brother John Cockman.
- A series of portraits of five Fellows of University College, Oxford.
Legacy in Pigment
The precision of his work earned him respect in a competitive era of English portraiture. He was not merely a painter of faces but a recorder of status and lineage. His ability to command a fee of five Guineas for a single portrait of the Secretary of the Admiralty, Mr. Burchet, speaks to the value placed on his specific vision. Even as he navigated the complexities of a society built on verbal social contracts, his brushwork spoke with clarity.
By the time of his death in 1732, Ferrers had left behind a body of work that transitioned from the private hands of families like the Cockmans to the permanent collections of national institutions. His life, marked by the silence of his birth, found its voice through the enduring presence of his portraits in the Bodleian Library, the Tate, and University College.
