An Exploration of Edwin Landseer’s “Man Proposes, God Disposes”

Many of his works are portraits of noblemen, their children, and pets– those of the Duchess of Kent, the Duke of Devonshire, Cambridge and 6th Duke of Bedford, and the Earl of Ellesmere, to name a few. Esteemed and coveted by the aristocracy, his reputation reached the highest level of all as he became a friend of Queen Victoria and King Albert. 

A man of many interests, Landseer was also a lover of the Scottish wilderness, spending much of his time hunting, fishing, and sketching. There, he created many anatomical studies on animals, always reaching for the highest level of accuracy in his art. His works commonly show not only animals, but also the relationship between animals and humans, often to communicate a moral or express social consideration.

Despite his professional and social successes, especially in the second half of his life, Landseer frequently suffered from nervous breakdowns, depression, and a myriad of phobias. Regardless of these health difficulties, Landseer continued to accept commissions. However, his patrons often found it challenging getting him to finish the works due to his tendency to procrastinate.

Among his many noble portraits, hunting scenes, and animal studies, one piece stands out, not only for its display of Landseer's talent, but for its connection to a tragedy that had been mired in mystery until very recently.

“Man Proposes, God Disposes” shows a grim arctic landscape, painted on a wide rectangular canvas.The piece is diagonally divided in two by the remains of a ship’s mast. On either side, two polar bears engage in an ominous play of sorts. To the right, one bear is munching on a rib, appearing wholly satisfied with its grotesque banquet. Just before the bear lays the remainder of a human rib cage, opened wide like a hideous flower. 

To the left, the second bear is fiercely tearing apart the ship’s sail, its body creating a line perpendicular to the mast. On its left, a telescope lays abandoned on the cold snow. The viewer’s gaze is drawn through the space by the two lines, and only upon a second glance does one notice the other eerie details.

The icy desolation surrounding the main scene appears cruel and cold, with giant icebergs composed of sharp edges and firm outlines, immersed in a faint light. The rest of the image is filled by the dreary palette of the arctic gloom that surrounds the grizzly scene of the polar bears' delight, partially hidden by ice and the remains of the shipwreck.

Landseer was inspired to create this scene by the tragic arctic expedition of Sir John Franklin who sailed from England in May of 1845 with two ships, the HMS Erebus and the HMS Terror, in search of the Northwest Passage. Unfortunately, in September 1846, the ships became completely icebound in the northernmost part of King William Island, a small, desolate piece of land located in the Arctic Archipelago, in Nunavut, Canada. 

It took two years for the first rescue party to be sent out, under request of Jane Griffin, Franklin’s wife. This and many other rescue attempts fell short, however, as the vessels and their crew seemed to have disappeared into thin air. The only evidence found were three lonely tombs in an abandoned camp at Beechy Island where the crew had settled before losing their ships.

Yet, in 1859, a document was located in a cairn at Victory Point on King William Island, just South of Cape Felix– where the ships were stuck in the ice– containing brief information about the crew’s fate. According to that document, dated April 25, 1848, 25 crew members were already dead, including Sir. John Franklin. The 109 survivors, led by the captain of the HMS Terror, Francis Rawdon Moira Crozier, deserted the ships with the intention to reach the mainland, a 250-mile journey at the mercy of frost and potential starvation.

For over 150 years, additional evidence including abandoned artifacts and human remains scattered along the route of this tragic journey continued to crop up, feeding the mystery of those men’s fates. Beginning in the 80s, various archaeological excavations and analyses conducted on artifacts, bones fragments, and human tissues found dispersed in about 35 different locations provided new clues and hypotheses about the lost expedition. 

The causes of death of crew members are assumed to have been nutrition deficiencies, starvation, pneumonia, scurvy, and other illnesses, all probably exacerbated by stress and physical exhaustion. For a long time, it was speculated that the lead soldering of their canned food would have caused lead poisoning, but modern analyses conducted on human remains have disproved this possibility and scaled back the potential impact on the sailors’ lives.

The two ships, however, remained elusive. That is, until 2014. Thanks to the efforts and dedication of Parks Canada– an agency of the Government of Canada that manages the country's National Parks– and its collaborators, the HMS Erebus wreck was finally found about 50 miles South of Cape Felix. Two years later, they also discovered the HMS Terror. As with all the discoveries relating to this tragedy, the help and knowledge of the local Inuit population was crucial.

Swallowed by the darkness and cold waters, the two vessels had lain undisturbed at the bottom of the ocean for over 160 years. Parks Canada’s Underwater Archaeology Team and their collaborators have been conducting ongoing scientific investigations, creating 3D models of the wrecks, taking photos and videos, and leading accurate archaeological excavations since the discoveries. Thanks to the frigid waters of ships' final resting places, many artifacts aboard are astonishingly well-preserved, frozen in time and prisoners of marine sediments.

Though arctic topics were no longer considered new by Landseer's time, "Man Proposes, God Disposes" aroused both admiration and awe. The act of two wild animals gleefully destroying symbols of modern civilization and desecrating human remains dredged up no shortage of emotions and responses. The failure of humanity against the forces of nature is always a reminder to keep close in mind, especially today. Nature, as beautiful and fragile as it is violent, is capable of breaking man's efforts just as the arctic ice mercilessly crushed Franklin's ships, taking those men's lives with the same ferocity with which the two bears ravaged those symbols of civilization.

The painting is now displayed at the Royal Holloway College (UK). It is tradition to cover it with a Union Jack whenever exams are held, as there is a longstanding rumor that the artwork drives people mad if they sit by it for too long.