Born "in or near London" in 1798, Robert Seymour indicated at a very early age a decided taste for drawing, whereupon his father, Henry Seymour, a Somerset gentleman, apprenticed him to a skilful pattern-draughtsman named Vaughan, of Duke Street, Smithfield.[7] Although this occupation was most uncongenial to young Seymour, it caused him to adopt a neat style of drawing which ultimately proved of much utility. He aspired to a higher branch of Art than that involved in the delineation of patterns for calico-printers; but for a time he remained with Vaughan, pleasantly varying the monotony of his daily routine by producing miniature portraits of friends who consented to sit to him, receiving in return a modest though welcome remuneration. Still cherishing an inclination towards "High Art," he and a colleague named Work (significant patronymic!) deserted Vaughan, and, renting a room at the top of the old tower at Canonbury, they purchased a number of plaster-casts, lay-figures, &c., from which the two juvenile enthusiasts began to study with great assiduity. In Seymour's case tangible results were speedily forthcoming, for he presently painted a picture of unusually large dimensions, quaintly described by his fellow-student as containing representations of "the Giant of the Brocken, the Skeleton Hunt, the Casting of Bullets, and a full meal of all the German horrors eagerly swallowed by the public of that day." This remarkable canvas was, it seems, a really creditable work, and found a place on the walls of a gallery in Baker Street Baazar. Seymour, like many other ambitious young artists possessing more talent than pence, quickly realised the sad fact that, though the pursuit was in itself a very agreeable one, it meant penury to the painter unless he owned a private fortune or commanded the purse-strings of rich patrons. The artist's widow afterwards declared that he invariably sold his pictures direct from the easel; but there is no doubt that with him "High Art" proved a financial failure, and he reluctantly turned his attention to the more lucrative (if less attractive) occupation of designing on wood, for which he was peculiarly fitted by his previous practice in clean, precise draughtsmanship during that probationary period in Vaughan's workshop. Footnote 7: In another account (written by a contemporary of the artist) it is stated that Seymour was the natural son of Vaughan himself, and that the child bore the name of the mother, under whose care he remained until his father acknowledged the paternity, when he took the boy into his workshop.