meee, SEONTI 5 er Met wits ee wie CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY THE WORDSWORTH COLLECTION Te ehan ease ea i ae oe THE AUTOBIOGRAHY AND MEMOIRS OF BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON VOLUME II one he : es PLATE Vit. | From the original in the National Portratt Gallery. | pwatl : IMA PL é gost nos ie - THA 1 les IiB¢ ad os > ali nite ie .oO yf Me AHON , Mil PLATE VII BENJAMIN Ropert Haypon. By G. M. Zorn.in. From the original painting in the National Portrait Gallery. The AUTOBIOGRAPHY and MEMOIRS of BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON (1 786-1846) Edited from his Journals by Tom TaYy.Lor A NEW EDITION with an Introduction by MRLDOUS TEUSLEY hb VOLUME II ILLUSTRATED Harcourt BrRAcE and COMPANY NEW YORK Printed in Great Britain by Nett & Co., Lrp., EDINBURGH. CONTENTS OF VOLUME II 1828 PAGE Depression—An inopportune Visit—Chairing the Member— Lough’s Musidora—Depression and Difficulty—The King buys the Mock Election—A Visit from Sir Walter Scott— Criticisms—Progress of the Mock Election—Stratford-on- Avon—Chairing the Member finished—The Subject of Eucles—Correspondence with the Duke f . Gl 431 1829 Conversations with Wilkie—Commencement of Punch—Lawrence and the Duke—The Old and New in Portrait-painting— West’s Pictures—Punch—Wilkie’s Change of Style—Lives of the Painters—Electioneering—M. D’Embden—Maxims for his Son going to Sea : 2) ; ; ; ; . ass 1830 Sir Thomas Lawrence—Election of President of the Academy— The Royal Crown—Court Anecdotes of George IV.—At Work on Xenophon—Statement of Affairs—Arrested again—Bench Experiences—Another Petition to the Commons—A Sunday in the Bench—A Fellow-prisoner—French Revolution of July—The French—Correspondence with the Duke—Warning Wellington—Relief from the British Institution—A Com- mission from Sir Robert Peel . ; , ; ‘ wh 473 1831 Opening of the Year—Picture of Napoleon at St Helena—Political Excitement—Frank goes to School—Wordsworth’s Letter and Sonnet—A Visit to his Stepson at Oxford—At the Seaside— Retrospect—-Depression—Byron’s Memoirs—Christ’s Entry into Jerusalem bought—Political Lucubrations—The Reform Bill Excitement—Sir Walter’s last Visit—Political Excitement —Loss of a Daughter—Letter from Goethe ‘ ; . 504 v vi MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON 1832 The Reform Banquet—His Exhibition—A Bench Character—Vote for building National Gallery—A determined Effort at Portrait—Lawrence’s empty House—Picture of the Newhall Hill Meeting—The Birmingham Trades-Unionists—The Reform Banquet—A hard Creditor—A Trip to Broadstairs— A Breakfast with Lord Nugent—-Lord Melbourne—Lord Althorp—Duke of Richmond—Lord Goderich—Efforts with Public Men—Lord Althorp on Art and the aS Grey musing—Duke of Sussex ‘ ; ; 1833 Opening of the Year—In Straits—Jeffrey—Althorp after Resigna- tion—Burdett—Lord Jeffrey—Duke of Sussex—Lord Plunkett —Death of his Son Alfred—Mr Coke—The Picture progress- ing—The Lord Mayor’s Dinner ‘ . : ‘ 1834 Lord Grey’s Amiability—O’Connell at Home—O’Connell— Death of a Child—At Work on Cassandra—Increased Difficul- ties—A Call on Lord Melbourne—With Lord Melbourne, on Art—Close of the Year 1834 ‘ , 5 i 1835 Application to the Duke for a Sitting—A Difficulty about the Duke’s Clothes—Correspondence with the Duke—The Duke obliterated—Another Petition to the Commons—Petition to the House of Commons—Achilles : Lord Abercorn—Death of a Daughter: R. Colborne—Achilles finished : Necessity— Meeting of Creditors—Decorating the House of Lords— Review of 1835 ; 1836 Sickness and Struggle: Lecturing—A Commission from Lord Audley—Working up for the Poictiers Picture—Death of a Child—Mr Ewart’s Fine Arts Committee—Formation of the Royal Academy—In Straits—In the Bench—A learned Head Turnkey—Scenes in the Bench—Another Statement to his Creditors—A Letter to his Landlord—A kind Landlord: Wilkie—My Landlord 1837 The School of Design—At the Mechanics’—Successful Lecturing— The Maid of Saragossa—Letter-writing in the Spectator—His Liverpool Commission : Lecturing—Death of Lord Egremont PAGE 525 551 563 578 595 619 CONTENTS Vil I 838 PAGE At Manchester—A Visit to Drayton—Difficulties—Death of a Stepson—The Picture progressing—Sir Joshua’s Memo- randum Book—An ignoble Ride—Anecdotes of the Duke— Wilkie’s General Baird and Cellini—The Liverpool Picture finished—Lecturing at Liverpool—Painting the Picture of the Duke, ,;ij: { . . ‘ ’ ; ; ‘ » 630 1839 Picture of Milton—Lecturing at Newcastle: Chartists—Corre- spondence with the Duke—The Duke’s Clothes and Accoutre- ments—The Nelson Monument—The Duke’s Clothes again —A Visit from D’Orsay—A Run to Waterloo—Artists’ Difficulties with the Duke—At Walmer with the Duke—The Duke in Walmer Church—Death of the Duke of Bedford —Picture of the Duke finished . j ; . ; - 646 1840 Opening of the Year—Haydon’s Political Lucubrations—Lecturing at Oxford—A Letter to Wordsworth : the Reply—At Oxford —Hamilton: Bronstedt: Wilkie—Mary Queen of Scots— Benjamin West—The Prophets of Michel Angelo—Sibyl : his School—Break up of the School—Anti-Slavery Convention— Abolitionists—The Anti-Slavery Convention Picture—Sonnet on the Picture of the Duke—On the Anti-Slavery Picture— Solomon after twenty-seven Years—Review of 1840 . . 668 1841 Sketching O’Connell—With Thomas Clarkson at Playford—The Inspiration to great Deeds—Note from Beaumont—Death of Wilkie—Feelings at Wilkie’s Death—On Wilkie—Prospects in the New Houses—Comparisons: English Art and Foreign —First Lesson in Fresco—First Attempt in Fresco—Recon- ciliation with Mr Harman—Retrospect of 1841. ‘ . 092 1842 His Hopes and Fears in 1842—Barry’s Pictures and Character— Discouragement of British Art—Vindictiveness of the Critics —Alexander and the Lion begun—Working under Difficulties —Good Landlords : Rumohr’s Letters—Rumohr on Modern Art—Rumohr on German Art—At Work at Saragossa— Sketches for Saragossa—Wordsworth—Wordsworth’s Know- ledge of Art—Rumohr on Modern Art—-Details as to Wilkie’s Death—Beginning his Cartoon—Cartoon-drawing: Neces- sities—Rumohr on Cartoons—At his Cartoons—Miss Barrett’s Sonnet on Wordsworth—Rumohr on German Art ; - Bas Vill MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON 1843 A New Year—Obtains Armour from the Tower—Letter to Eastlake —Finishes Cartoons—Misery and Relief—The Cartoon Ex- hibition—Not successful—The Struggle with Disappointment —Still struggles with Disappointment—Sir George Cockburn on Napoleon—On his Ill-success—Letter to the Duke of Sutherland—Turning out Napoleons—British Institution 1844 Letter from Sir Joshua’s Niece—At Work—More Napoleons musing—Lectures at the Royal Institution—A Féte with the Buonarroti—Large and small Pictures—The Duke in a Passion—Frescos in the Royal Exchange—Decoration of Houses of Parliament—lIllness of his Son Frank—Picture- cleaning—Sketches Aristides—Review of 1844 1845 At Fifty-nine: the Blind Fiddler—Prayer for Success—Painting the Devil—Plan in Substitution of the Academy—Praise from the Times—Wordsworth in a Court Dress—Harass—Saved from an Execution—A new Pupil—A Visit to Sir Joshua’s Niece—An Application to Sir R. Peel—At Work on Nero —Prayer at the End of the Year ‘ ; : ; 1846 Dining in the Wellington Statue—Advertising his Exhibition— Letter from Wordsworth—The Touchers and the Polishers— Beginning his Third Picture—In Edinburgh—Preparing for Exhibition—Failure of the Exhibition—At Bay—The End— His Will—His Character—His Times in Relation to Art— —KEstimate of him as an Artist . ADDENDA APPENDIX I, . yiioes @: sy aes potl¥? INDEX . PAGE 743 762 779 799 838 843 847 850 861 867 ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOLUME U A G PLATE "PAGE VII. BENJAMIN RoBERT Haypon. By Georgiana Margaretta Zornlin (his pupil) . ; ; : Frontispiece From the original in the National Portrait Gallery. VIII. Puncu, or May-Day. By B. R. Haydon ; ; . 476 From the original painting in the National Gallery, Millbank. IX. Curist’s ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM. By B. R. Haydon . 524 From the original painting in the Cincinnati Museum. X. THE MEMBERS OF THE ANTI-SLAVERY CONVENTION. By B. R. Haydon ‘ ‘ ‘ ; ; ; s - 684 From the original painting in the National Portrait Gallery. XI. Portrait oF WILLIAM WorpsworTH. By B. R. Haydon. 732 From the original painting in the National Portrait Gallery. XII. Benjamin ROBERT Haypon. By himself ¥ ; «- yee From the original painting in the National Portrait Gallery. ix * i Pat : Ae i me, &. Barge ‘ Baye 4 eo : : oa eMOITASTAU. Ll ete § met men att mor oA orb. ahgninin Banisino oft mon MEMOIRS OF BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON FROM HIS JOURNALS (CONTINUED) VOL. II.—28 ro PR y MEMOIRS (Continued) 1828 ‘“Fanuary 1st.—I began this new year and ended the last in apathy and indifference. No prayer, no thanksgiving, no re- flection, no thought. I was ill, and fretful, and callous. My Frank was seized with an attack of the lungs. He recovered. My Mock Election opened and succeeded moderately, but it has not sold; and though I have to thank God for the last five months with all my heart and all my soul, I am beginning again to apprehend necessity.”’ He was now at work on Eucles, when a new subject suggested itself as adapted to that Hogarthian faculty which he flattered himself might have been developed in the Mock Election. He thus describes the subject and the circumstances under which it occurred to his mind: ‘“ February 1st-——For this last week I thought I should have gone mad at the prospect of losing dearest Frank—a fellow-string of the same instrument as myself. O Frank—dear little intel- lectual, keen, poetic soul! One night I was sitting by the fire in his room—his still room—sobbing quietly, in bitter grief, and resolving, if he died, to glory in letting my faculties rot over my blasted hopes, when—will it be believed ?—Punch, as the subject for a picture, darted into my thoughts, and I composed it, quite lost to everything else, till dear little Frank’s feeble voice recalled me. “This involuntary power it is which has always saved me. To God I offer my gratitude for its possession.” “© March 1st!—I begin my new volume, not with the en- thusiasm of my former ones. I have ceased to make great attempts, and have gradually sunk to fit my efforts to the taste of those on whom I depend: that noble elevation of soul I feel no longer. The necessities of a large family, imprisonment and sorrow have startled me for the time out of that glorious dream. I can’t pray now to the great God to aid and help and foster me 1'The fifteenth volume of the Journals opens at this date with the motto : ‘“‘ For I have eaten ashes like bread and mingled my drink with weeping,”’—Psalm cii. 431 in 432 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1828 in my attempts for the honour of my great country, for I am making no attempt at all. I am doing that only which will procure me subsistence, and gratify the love of novelty, or pander to the prejudices of my countrymen. Even that does not succeed. I have not sold the Mock Election. I have no orders—no com- missions. After all the public sympathy of last year, I am still without employment. ‘The exhibition of the picture gets me a bare subsistence, and that is all. ““* Non sum qualis eram.’ “What to do I am at a loss. Brougham is chilled, and the state of the finances renders any expectation of a Government vote for the higher walk of Art a vain delusion. My admission into the Academy is out of the question. It has turned out as I predicted to Lord Egremont it would. I begin at last to long to go abroad, family and all. Had I been single, after leaving prison for the first time, I would have gone back to my stripped house and finished the Crucifixion; but here my wife shrank, and I loved her too well to pain her. “To have finished the Crucifixion without a bed to lie on, or a chair to sit on, without casts or prints, because the world thought it impossible, was to my mind a cause of fiery excitement. I would have gloried in doing it, and would have done it. But by painting lately only paltry things I have ceased to excite the enthusiasm I once lived in, because I have ceased to feel it myself. How all this will turn out God knows—for though I do not pray to Him as I used, I trust in His mercy, as I ever shall. I dread blindness in my old age, but I hope my God will spare me this calamity. His will, not mine, be done. ‘* 2nd.—I got up melancholy in the extreme, and sallied forth to call on Brougham, in order to come to some conclusion. I saw him in the passage. His carriage was at the door; a gentleman was eagerly talking; Brougham had his foot on the stairs, and could not get up for the importunity of this man. Brougham’s hand was full of papers, and his whole appearance was restless, harassed, eager, spare, keen, sarcastic and nervous. The servant did not hear me ring, and the coachman called from his box in a state of irritable fidget, “ Why, George, don’t you see a gentleman here? He has been here these five minutes.’ Up came George, half dressed, and showed me right in. The moment Brougham saw me, he seemed to look, ‘ Here’s Haydon—at such a moment— to bore me.’ Brougham never shakes hands, but he held out his two fingers. “Mr Haydon, how d’ye do?’ I have no appoint- ment with you. Call on Wednesday at half-past five. I can’t spare you two minutes now.’ I never saw such a set out. The horses 1828] AN INOPPORTUNE VISIT 433 horses were not groomed. ‘The coachman not clean. The blinds of the coach were not down, and gave me the idea as if inside the air was hot, damp, foul and dusty. There the horses were waiting, half dozy; the harness not cleaned or polished; their coats rough as Exmoor ponies; and inside and outside the house the whole appearance told of hurry-scurry, harass, fag, late hours, long speeches and vast occupation. Since I saw him last he seems grown ten years older—looks more nervous and harassed a great deal. He tried to smile, by way of saying, ‘ Don’t be hurt’; but I never am hurt by such things. When a man calls on another in that way, he must expect the consequences of breaking in. I wish anybody was as considerate for me.” Haydon now proceeded to turn to further account his King’s Bench experiences. The tragi-comedy of which he had de- lineated the first act in his Mock Election, furnished him with a second, under the title of Chairing the Member. I append the painter’s own account of the picture at this point, as it will render intelligible many subsequent entries in his journal between the commencement of the work and its conclusion towards the end of August: “The scene now painted and represented to the public is The Mock Chairing, which was acted on a water-butt one evening, but was to have been again performed in more magnificent costume the next day; just, however, as all the actors in this eccentric masquerade—High Sheriff, Lord Mayor, Head Constable, Assessor, Poll-clerks and Members—were ready dressed and pre- paring to start, the Marshal interfered and stopped the pro- cession! Such are human hopes ! “The Marshal sent word he wished to speak with those he named; they went directly, anticipating admonishment if their innocent frolic was irregular, and resolving to submit to Mr Jones’s wishes; but, after a few words, the whole who had obeyed his desire were ordered to be closely confined in a room, to which the Black Hole at Calcutta was a palace. “Those who were thus treated were gentlemen, one of whom had been member of the House of Commons for two years. They had been guilty of nothing but an innocent and harmless frolic, that relieved their own anxieties, and contributed very materially to assuage the anxieties of others; they had trespassed on no privilege of authority, they had shown no disrespect to their superiors, there had been no wilful violence, no riot, no drunken- ness : in fact, during the continuance of this extraordinary scene, there had been less of what was improper or abandoned ; for the minds of the unhappy had for a time been excited, and they forgot their troubles and their usual methods of burying the recol- lection of them. “The Marshal now sent for some others, whom he had for- gotten A34 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1828 gotten in the first instance ; but, dreading a similar fate to their companions, they refused to go; speeches, expostulations and messages took place, and the Marshal was advised to send for the Guards ! ““ About the middle of a sunny day, when all was quiet save the occasional cracking of a racket-ball, while some were reading, some smoking, some lounging, some talking, some occupied with their own sorrows and some with the sorrows of their friends, in rushed six fine grenadiers with a noble fellow of a sergeant at their head, with bayonets fixed, and several round of ball in their cartouches, expecting (by their looks) to meet the most desperate resistance ! ‘““ However, those are questions out of my province: I merely state what I saw, and that I, as an Englishman, felt bitterly wounded that the most heroic troops on earth, the Guards of the Sovereign, should have been sent for to outflank Harry Holt and cut off the retreat of four gentlemen in dressing-gowns ! “‘ The materials thus afforded me by the entrance of the Guards I have combined in one moment, as I did those in the last picture. Jn that picture, the dandy in yellow and the dandy in rags, the characters in one corner and the characters in the other, were not all assembled at the same moment at the same place. Some of the materials existed, others I invented. So, in this picture of the Chairing, I have combined in one moment what happened at different moments. The characters and soldiers are all portraits. I have only used the poet’s and painter’s licence, ‘quidlibet audendi,’ to make out the second part of the story—a part that happens in all elections, viz. the chairing the successful candidates. ““In the corner on the left of the spectator are three of the Guards, drawn up across the door, standing at ease, with all the self-command of soldiers in such situations, hardly suppressing a laugh at the ridiculous attempts made to oppose them ; in front of the Guards is the commander of the enemy’s forces, viz. a little boy with a tin sword, on regular guard position, ready to receive and oppose, with a banner of ‘Freedom of Election’ hanging on his sabre; behind him stands the Lord High Sheriff, affecting to charge the soldiers with his mopstick and pottle, but not quite easy at the glitter of a bayonet. He is dressed in a magnificent suit of decayed splendour, with an old court sword, loose silk stockings, white shoes and unbuckled knee-bands ; his shoulders are adorned with white bows, and his curtain-rings, for a chain, hung by a blue ribbon from his neck. Next to him, adorned with a blanket, is a character of voluptuous gaiety, helmeted by a saucepan, holding up the cover for a shield and a bottle for a weapon. Then comes the fool, making grimaces with his painted cheeks, and bending his fists at the military; while the Lord: Mayor, with his white wand, is placing his hand on his heart with mock gravity and wounded indignation at this viola- tion of Magna Charta and civil rights. Behind him are different characters, 1828 ] CHAIRING THE MEMBER 435 characters, with a porter-pot for a standard, and a watchman’s rattle ; while in the extreme distance, behind the rattle, and under the wall, is a ragged orator addressing the burgesses on this abominable violation of the privileges of election. “ Right over the character with a saucepan is a turnkey holding up a key and pulling down the celebrated Meredith, who, quite serious, and believing he will really sit in the House, is endeavour- ing to strike the turnkey with a champagne glass. The gallant member is on the shoulders of two men, who are peeping out and quizzing. ‘““Close to Meredith is his fellow-member, dressed in Spanish hat and feather, addressing the sergeant opposite him, with an arch look, on the illegality of his entrance at elections, while a turnkey has got hold of the member’s robe, and is pulling him off the water-butt with violence. “ The sergeant, a fine soldier, one of the heroes of Hougoumont, is smiling and amused, while a grenadier, one of the other three under arms, is looking at his sergeant for orders. “Two of the three soldiers are only seen ; the third is supposed to be behind the member. ‘““In the corner, directly under the sergeant, is a dissipated young man and his distressed family, addicted to hunting and sports, without adequate means for the enjoyment. He, half intoxicated, his only refuge left his bottle, has just drawn a cork, and is addressing his only comfort, while his daughter is delicately putting the bottle aside and looking with entreaty at her father. “The harassed wife is putting back the daughter, unwilling to deprive the man she loves of what, though a baneful consolation, is still one; while the little shoeless boy, with his hoop, is regarding his father with that strange wonder with which children look at the unaccountable alteration in features and expression which takes place under the effects of intoxication. “Three pawnbrokers’ duplicates, one for the child’s shoes, 1s. 6d., one for the wedding-ring, 5s., and one for the wife’s necklace, £7, lie at the feet of the father, with the Sporting Maga- zime ; for drunkards generally part with the little necessaries of their wives and children before they trespass on their own. “‘ At the opposite corner lies curled up the Head Constable, hid away under his bed-curtain, which he had for a robe, and slily looking, as if he hoped nobody would betray him! By his side is placed a table, with the relics of luxurious enjoyment, while a washing-tub as a wine-cooler contains, under the table, a pine, hock, champagne and Burgundy. “Directly over the sergeant, on the wall, are written, ‘ The Majesti of the Peepel for ever—huzza!’ ‘No Military at Elec- tions!’ and ‘No Marshal!’ On the standards to the left are “Confusion to Credit, and no fraudulent Creditors!’ In the win- dow are a party with a lady smoking a hookah; on the ledge of the window, ‘ Success to the detaining Creditor!’ At the opposite window 436 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1828 window is a portrait of the painter, looking down on the extra- ordinary scene with great interest; underneath him, ‘ Sperat infestis.’ “On a board under the lady smoking is written the order of the Lord Mayor, enjoining Peace, as follows : ““ Banco Regis “* Court House, July 16, “Tn the Sixth year of the “* Reign of GEORGE IV. ““* Peremptorily ordered : ““* That the special constables and headboroughs of this ancient bailwick do take into custody all persons found in any way committing a breach of the peace during the procession of chairing the members returned to represent this borough. “Sir RoBERT Brircu (Collegian), Lord Mayor.’ “““A New Way to pay old Debts’ is written over the first turnkey ; and below it, ‘N.B.—A very old way, discovered 3394 years B.c.’; and in the extreme distance, over a shop, is, ‘ Dealer in everything genuine.’ ‘While the man beating the long drum, at the opposite end, another the cymbals, and the third blowing a trumpet, with the windows all crowded with spectators, complete the composition, with the exception of the melancholy victim behind the High Sheriff. “IT recommend the contemplation of this miserable creature, once a gentleman, to all advocates of imprisonment for debt. First rendered reckless by imprisonment—then hopeless—then sottish, and, last of all, from utter despair of freedom, insane ! Round his withered temples is a blue ribbon, with ‘ Dulce est pro patria mort’ (‘It is sweet to die for one’s country’); for he is baring his breast to rush on the bayonets of the Guards, a willing sacrifice, as he believes, poor fellow, to a great public principle ! In his pocket he has three pamphlets, On Water Drinking, On the Blessings of Imprisonment for Debt, and Adam Smith’s Moral Essay. Ruffles hang from his wrists, the relics of former days; rags cover his feeble legs; one foot is naked, and his appearance is that of a being decaying, mind and body.”’ “* March 16th—Lough’s private day to-day. He had a brilliant one, but no orders, though the Musidora is the most beautiful of his productions. “* Lough is delicate, sensitive and will be short-lived: but what a mighty genius. He dined with me to-day. What a gaunt, fiery eagle he looks. He complained of palpitations. “‘ His having no orders affected him, though I told him it was the consequence of fashion. I propped him up, and restored his 1828] LOUGH’S MUSIDORA 437 his spirits; but he is still depressed. If he goes through one- quarter of what I have gone through, he will die. “God grant him life, for the sake of the art. What a pure, virginal, shrinking, chaste, delightful creature is Musidora. ‘‘ 24th.—I am in a very precarious state of mind—in apathy. I cannot begin on anything, do what I will. I feel a lassitude of mind and being; I hope it is not the symptom of some disease. I finished the Election at the beginning of December; then wrote the catalogue, and fell ill. By the time I was well Frank was ill; and now he is well dearest Mary is ill, so that I have continual anxiety. But one must make the most of one’s situation, let the difficulties be what they may. “ 25th.—Lough has not had one order for the Musidora. My God! to hear on the private day people saying, ‘ Very promising young man ’—at works before which Michel Angelo would have bowed. ‘Why does he not do busts?’ Why does not the State give him sufficient employment to prevent the necessity ? ““26th.—My greatest weakness, I am sorry to say, is the expectation I form of every picture. I am then disappointed— grow angry and foreboding—wander about, and do not return to my pursuits till drawn by conscience. Shee (to whom I strolled for comfort, and who made me worse) said yesterday “that an artist was always miserable in reality or in imagination— in reality if he fancies he is perfect ; in imagination if he have a perfect idea he can never realise.’ (This was the day Shee said to me, on my saying to him the Academy was founded for historical purposes, ‘That never entered their heads. It was most likely founded on intrigue.’) ” Haydon ought now to have been employed on the Eucles for the purchase of which his friends had subscribed at the time of his imprisonment. But he hung back from beginning it for some reason he could not explain to himself. The cause was probably that depression which is apparent in the preceding extracts from the Journal, the result of disappointment and ever-recurring difficulty from which he at this moment despaired of being able to extricate himself, and which drove him to apply to his friends, high and low, for money—a practice which he frequently laments that he ever had recourse to, and from which earlier ‘“ con- descension ” to portrait-painting and pictures of the cabinet size might have saved him. Now that he was willing to do anything for money, patrons were, naturally, less eager to employ one who in the heyday of his reputation had refused to undertake such commissions as they were ready to give. On the 8th of March he writes, ‘‘ Sent in a study of a child’s head to the Academy, and worked hard at copying an old head from 438 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1828 from a miniature. What an employment! After painting the head of Lazarus, to think that at forty-two years of age I am com- pelled to do this for bread—pursuing my art as I have pursued it, with all my heart and all my soul, for the honour of my country. The fact is England is strictly and decidedly commercial; and the highest gifts of genius are considered more in the light of curses than blessings if a man puts forth his powers on any principle incompatible with the commercial basis of sale and returns. “ roth.—In the city on business. Met my old fellow-student L last night at Buckingham’s conversazione. He had been in Rome thirteen years. Went out in enthusiasm, and of course in Rome and Italy had increased it by coming in contact with the works of the departed great. He has brought his large picture to exhibit, and is full of all sorts of hopes and quite inexperienced in the apathy of the great. I felt for him, but did not repress his feelings.” There is much probability (admitting his claims to the title of a man of high genius) in the reasons he gives in the following extract, for the sympathy shown for him in his misfortunes and the apathy which followed: “ 16th.—The nobility were touched by my sorrows last year, not because I was a man of genius in sorrow, but because I was a husband shut up from my wife at a time of approaching con- finement, and they felt for my dreadful situation as men and human beings. If it was from sympathy for talent, why am I not employed? Why? Because they do not care about my talents, and would rather, conscientiously, if put to the test, not be cursed with any who have powers in a style of Art they do not comprehend, and wish not to encourage because they do not comprehend it. In short, a man of high genius is an incumbrance on the patrons of this country, a nuisance to the portrait painters and an object of sympathy to the public. “The above is a bitter truth, but it is a truth.” But a stroke of great and unexpected good fortune was at hand which swept away the gloom from his path and quickened into new life the sanguine anticipations of a nature which no experience of adversity ever really schooled into either prudence or submis- sion to circumstances. This piece of unlooked-for happiness occurred on the 18th of this month and is thus recorded. “This morning, to my surprise, the King, George IV. (whom God preserve!), sent Seguier to say he would wish to see the Mock Election. For my part I am so used to be one day in a prison, and the other in a palace, that it scarcely moved me. God only have mercy on the art, and make me a great instrument in advancing 1828] THE KING SEES THE MOCK ELECTION 439 advancing it by any means, suffering or happiness. O have mercy, and grant this lot of fortune, under Thy mercy, may turn out profitable to my creditors. ‘“19th.—This morning I moved the Mock Election to St James’s Palace. I rang the bell, and out came a respectable- looking man, dressed in black silk stockings. I was shown into a back room, and the picture moved in. In a short time livery servants, valets and the devil knows who crowded around it. At eleven Seguier came: the picture was moved up into the state apartments. I went into the city to my old friend Kearsey, one of those who had supported me during the struggle. He was gone to a funeral. ‘ Man groweth up and is cut down like a flower.’ ‘ Dust to dust, and ashes to ashes,’ was a very proper rap to me in my superhuman elevation. “When I came back Seguier called me aside. The room was in a bustle. ‘ Well,’ said he, ‘ the King is delighted with your picture. When it was brought in he looked at it and said, ‘‘ This is a very fine thing.” ‘To the figures on the left hand he said, “This is our friend Wilkie out-and-out.” He then turned to Campbell in the corner. ‘‘ That’s a fine head; it’s like Buona- parte.” “‘ Your Majesty, Mr Haydon thinks it’s like Buonaparte and Byron.” ‘ Can I have it left to-day?’ “‘ Mr Haydon will leave it with your Majesty as long as you desire.” ’ ““ Seguier declared the King was highly delighted, and said, “Come to me to-morrow.’ Seguier said he reaily was astonished at the tact of the King. He told some stories about his father so capitally, and laughed so heartily, that the pages were obliged to go out of the room. (Exquisite flattery of the pages.) “ Seguier said, ‘ Can the King have it directly?’ ‘ Directly,’ said I. ‘ Meet me at the British Gallery at twelve on Monday.’ * That I will, my hero,’ said I. What destinies hang on twelve on Monday! “* Lackington (my landlord) said, ‘ D n it, I hope he will let you have it again, as you will pay your creditors ros. in the pound!’ vrai Jean Bull! As I went down I dreaded all sorts of disappointments. ‘ Might not the King be ill? Might not the palace catch fire? Might not Seguier have overstated his expectations? ’ ‘Thus it is; when we are young, from our ignorance of evil, we dash on expecting flowers to bloom at every step; at maturity, from our dread of evil in consequence of suffering, no pleasure is felt unmingled with apprehension. “ 20th.—I thought in the morning, Shall I go to church and pour forth my gratitude? Will it not be cant? Will it not be more in hopes for what is coming, than in gratitude for what is past? 440 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1828 past? Yes. But my Creator is merciful. He knows the weak- nesses of human nature. To give up trying to do our duty because we cannot do it perfectly is more criminal than trying to do it sincerely, however imperfectly. I went. I laboured in prayer to vanquish vain aspirations. I poured forth my gratitude, and felt the sweet assurance which prayer only brings. “* 21st.—To-day has been a bright day in the annals of my life. The King has purchased my picture, and paid me my money. I went to the British Gallery at half-past eleven; at twelve Seguier came, with a face bursting, and coming up to me said, “Get a seven and sixpenny stamp.’ ‘ My dear fellow, I have only got 5s. in my pocket!’ Seguier looked mischievously arch as he took out 2s.6d. Away I darted forastamp. ‘ Threepence more,’ said the girl. I ran back again, got the 3d., took the stamp, signed it, and received the money. ““ Seguier was really rejoiced, and verily I believe to him I owe this honour.” Elated by his good fortune, it required all the cool good sense of his friend Seguier to restrain Haydon from writing to the King a letter of gratitude, in which, we may be sure, he would not have missed the opportunity of inculcating that duty of encouraging Art by public patronage which he so perseveringly forced upon ministers. But though occasional suspicions of his friend’s motives in imploring him to be quiet crossed his mind, his better judgment bowed to the force of the advice and he abstained. The purchase of his Mock Election by the King sent him with fresh spirit to the companion picture of The Chairing. On the 28th I find in his Journal: “‘ On Friday week at the palace of my Sovereign: to-day in his prison. I called on C ‘ and found him much improved. His face had lost that desperate look. He expected to be restored to the world. Such was the effect of hope. “ After sketching heads worthy of Shakespeare, I had a desire to throw the possessors off their guard. I sent out for lunch and wine, and ate and drank with them. What a scene! What expressions! What fiery, flashing vigour of diabolism! It was eight months since I had seen them; and the weather-beaten sailor who boasted he drank twenty-six glasses from sunrise to sunset was completely altered—flabby—nervous—gouty. The young bearded Canadian was feeble—hesitating—tired—weak. Meredith’s death seemed to have touched them. ““ IT now, I hope, take my leave of the King’s Bench for ever. ““ I completed all my studies, and am ready. ‘To-morrow the High Sheriff sits. I met him as I was coming home, loitering about the detestable neighbourhood as if enchanted. “The 1828] A VISIT FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 44! “The Bench is the temple of idleness, debauchery and vice.” Sir Walter Scott was now in town and visited Haydon. ‘ 30th.—Began the High Sheriff’s head, and succeeded. Sir Walter Scott called. I introduced him to the High Sheriff. Sir Walter kissed dear Frank’s forehead and blessed him, and hoped he would be a clever man. It was highly interesting to see Sir Walter, with his fine head, kissing little Frank, who watched and scrutinised him. He promised to let me have a sketch of his head before he went. Sir Walter laughed heartily at the subject of Chairing the Member. ‘'The Marshal should have let the poor fellows finish it,’ said he. “* May 5th.—Sir Walter came to breakfast according to promise. Talfourd, Eastlake, and a young surgeon met him, and we had a very pleasant morning. He sat to me afterwards for an hour and a half, and a delightful sitting it was. I hit his expression exactly. Sir Walter Scott seems depressed. He came up to be happy with his family, to be among them; and, said he, ‘ They are all scattered like sheep. My daughter expected a fine season at the Caledonian Ball and Almack’s; packed up her best gown, and she found her sister so anxious, she has given it all up! ’ I myself was touched. I had not seen him so long, and when I saw him last Lazarus towered behind us. I had been imprisoned, he had lost £42,000; he was getting older, I could not be younger. In short, the recollections of life crowded on my mind. ‘““He told some admirable stories, but still was quieter than before. He is such a native creature. I told him of an Irishman in St Giles’s, who, coming by where there was a great row, seized his stick, looked up to heaven, and saying ‘'The Lord grant I may take the right side!’ plunged in, and began to thump away. ‘ Ah,’ said Sir Walter, ‘ he showed more discretion than the rest of his countrymen’; and then he began to look up with an arch look, and pretending to spit in his hands and seize a club, like Paddy, told us of an adventure he met with in Ireland himself; but directly after relapsed into a musing, heavy sadness. “I started ghosts, quoting Johnson’s assertion in Rasselas. He told us some curious things, affecting to consider them natural ; but I am convinced he half thought them supernatural. Sir Walter Scott has certainly the most penetrating look I ever saw, except in Shakespeare’s portraits. ‘C. H. Townshend, the author of The Reigning Vice, being in an agony of desire to see Sir Walter, I called with him. Sir Walter came out with his usual simplicity of manner and chatted. Townshend came away quite happy, and triumphant over a maiden aunt, who laughed at him for having such a desire. 1 See note, p. 838. ME 442 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1828 “** Mr Townshend,’ said I, ‘ is a great admirer of your genius, Sir Walter.’ ‘Ah, Mr Haydon, we won’t say a word about that. At any rate, I have amused the public, and that is something.’ We talked of all sorts of things. In speaking of the Thames Tunnel, he said, ‘Mr Brunel should take care of the river, for he has proved he is capable of bursting in.’ “* But there was a heaviness about him of which I never saw a symptom before.”’ Time has done something to correct Haydon’s judgment of more than one of his contemporaries in Art; and his criticism of one at least of the two painters referred to in the following entry will scarcely be accepted now: ** gth.—Worked till two, and then went out to the private days of Martin and Lane. How completely my private days and exhibitions have bit them all. ‘Martin and Danby are men of extraordinary imaginations, but infants in painting. ‘These pictures always seem to artists as if a child of extraordinary fancy had taken up a brush to express its inventions. ‘The public, who are no judges of the art as an art, overpraise their inventions, and the artists, who are always professional, see only the errors of the brush. “ 19th.—My portrait day. By devoting a day to portraits without interruption, I find my dislike waning. I then make it a study, and find it useful and delightful, and go to my pictures the day after, improved by it. “ 20th.—Hard at work on High Sheriff’s hands; finished them. How every part in nature is in harmony. These hands, bony, venous, long and Irish, would suit no other head. Returned to my picture with delight.” There is truth, which has now a chance of being admitted, in this criticism of Sir Thomas Lawrence’s portraits: “* 22nd.—Spent a whole morning at the Exhibition. Lawrence’s flesh has certainly no blood: Jackson’s is flesh and blood. *“‘ Lawrence sacrifices all for the head; and what an absence of all purity of tint in comparison with Vandyke or Reynolds! His excellence is expression, but it is conscious expression: whereas the expression of Reynolds, Vandyke, Titian, Tintoretto and Raffaele is unconscious nature. “* Lawrence is not a great man: indeed posterity will think so. Lady Lyndhurst’s hands are really a disgrace in drawing, colour and everything. He affects to be careless in subordinate parts, but it is not the carelessness of conscious power; it is the careless- ness of intention. ““ Since he went to Italy his general hue is greatly improved, but his flesh is as detestably opaque as ever. oe T e 1828] CRITICISMS 443 “The whole Exhibition was lamentably deficient. Constable and Jackson are the only colourists left. “Why are there no historical pictures? Hilton has had no commissions, Etty has had no commissions, I have had no com- missions. Why are there so many portraits? Lawrence has had commissions, Jackson has had commissions, Shee has had com- missions, and a hundred others have had commissions, and that is the reason there are so many portraits. “If Lawrence dies, there is nobody to give an air of fashion and taste to the room. In fact, I regret I went. ‘There was no one single thing I learnt anything from, but many thousand things I deeply regret remembering. “TI afterwards went to L ’s and Martin’s. The group of joseph and Mary is very fine, and there is really nothing like Martin’s picture (Nineveh) in the world. “22nd and 23vd.—Hard at work. making pen sketches of the heads in the Mock Election, and writing a great many anecdotes in a catalogue handsomely bound, which I mean to request his Majesty’s acceptance of. Left it with Lord Mountcharles. “a7th.—Portrait day; a day of coats, waistcoats, cheeks, lips and eyes—for themselves alone. ‘The moment the last sitter went, I turned his head to the wall, pulled out my historical easel, placed the Chairing on it and soon forgot the turn-up nose. “ Fune 8th.—Hard at work. ‘The young man who sat for the sportsman in the Mock Election had spent two handsome for- tunes; and (as a specimen of the benefit derived by a creditor from imprisoning a debtor) swore his creditor should never get a sixpence, and in a reckless feeling of defiance and disgust gave seventy guineas for a case of pipes a short time after he was in. I ordered up a bottle of wine, which excited him, and his face got that keen relish and fiery flush which is visible in a debauchee when temptation is near. He drank it all, as if the devil was at his elbow. He had served in Spain, and was up to everything. He had once, for fun, joined a strolling company. The actors all boarded with the manager, and one day, at dinner, he addressed them thus: ‘ Gentlemen, them as can act Thelly or Argo must eat taties!’ “I could not help thinking what a pity it was that those qualities which were so engaging and disinterested generally led to ruin, whilst the meanest vices realised fortunes. “24th.—Worked hard at the wife, and succeeded; but how superior was Nature! Left off depressed at my own ineffective attempt, when in came some one and admired my effort at imita- tion, because he had not seen, as I had, superior Nature. “26th.—Hard at work on the fool’s head, and succeeded. Walked 444 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1828 Walked in the evening in my old haunts in the Kilburn meadows, where I have walked so often with Keats; went on to Hampstead to Well-Walk, and home in a state of musing quiet. The grass, and hay, and setting sun, and singing birds and humming bees entered into my soul, and I lay dozing in luxurious remembrances till the evening star began to glitter dimly in the distance.”’ Wilkie had now returned to England, after his three years’ quest of health, and the old friends met again and renewed acquaintance, but with little, I fear, of the cordiality of their student days. ‘Their natures, in fact, were antagonistic, and each secretly distrusted the other for the qualities in which they differed respectively. “* a7th.—Worked till two, and then went to Lord Grosvenor’s, where I met Wilkie after an absence of three years. He was thinner, and seemed more nervous than ever. His keen and bushy brow looked irritable, eager, nervous and full of genius. How in- teresting it was to meet him at Lord Grosvenor’s, where we have all assembled these twenty years under every variety of fortune! Poor Sir George is gone, who used to form one of the group. Wilkie, Seguier, Jackson and I are left. Lord Mulgrave is ill. ‘As usual, Wilkie started a new theory—about the pictures in Spain not being varnished. He says he saw a Titian in a con- vent that had evidently not been touched since it was painted. We saw one together at Malmaison belonging to Josephine which was evidently pure—the blues in harmony. Wilkie said it was now in Russia. ‘“‘ | was deeply interested at seeing my old fellow-student and friend; but Wilkie chills everybody; it is his unfortunate nature. He told me he never ate animal food till he came to Edinboro’— his father was too poor. Perhaps this laid the foundation of his unhappy debility of constitution. Whether the energy of England will recover him I do not know. I hope so. He looks radically shaken. ‘ 29th.—Called on Wilkie; found him better. He said New- ton’s Vicar of Wakefield looked like Goldsmith in a dress of Moliére’s. It had not got the simplicity of Goldsmith. He was afraid to talk much; but he will recover. He seemed more impressed with Spain than either Italy or Germany. ‘The whole world has had such a rattle, that the highest as well as the lowest have abated of their pretensions. ‘* 30th.—Completed the group. L dined with me yesterday: already, poor fellow, cut up, as I predicted three months ago. He has resolved to relinquish historical painting, and turn to portraits. ¢ July 1828] PROGRESS OF CHAIRING THE MEMBER 445 ‘* July gth.—The moment I quit my canvas I get into all sorts of messes. ‘Whether it is the activity of my mind, or that trifles press more heavily on me when not occupied, I can’t tell: but the children seem to cry more than usual; the postman knocks harder than his wont; the dustman’s bell makes more noise; and I get restless, yawn, gape at the clock, stroll into the fields, get weary of my existence. What a life an idle man of fortune’s must be. ‘ yath, 13th—Better. Worked faintly at the fool. Everybody who called exclaimed, ‘ What a melancholy sot, with a touch of insanity.’ ‘This was the very thing. 13 days gone. Six ill—idle—business. “7 at work. Eighteen days left. Let us see whether, if I work with prudence and attention to my health, I can keep up the whole eighteen. The misfortune with me is, I do too much at particular times. But it can’t be helped: impulses must be attended to. My delight in my art is so interwoven with my nature, that I envy the very fellow who grinds my colours. I could be always in my painting-room when once there. I always leave my work with difficulty, dwell on it till I return, and recommence in pleasure. I would not let pupils set my palette, or grind my colours, or aid my designs. I love it all too much. Business, anxieties and sickness take their turns of retardation; but my heart is anchored, and it is only a slackening of the cable for a time. It is never loose; and when the sea is calm and the winds are high I haul taut up, and ride fearless, in delight and triumph. “ 14th.—At work successfully, but not long. Rather melan- choly from my state of personal health. “15th.—At the moment I opened my window a magnificent white cloud was passing. I rushed in for my palette and dashed it into my picture before it had passed. It does exactly. “ Instead of getting better I got worse, and dear Mary advised me to go out of town for a few days. I flew off directly, and instead of forming one of the vulgar idlers at a watering-place determined to make a pilgrimage to Stratford-on-Avon. Happy, indeed, am I that I did so. A more delightful jaunt I never had in all my life. It will be a bright spot in my imagination for years and years. “ The first day I went to Oxford. I got in late and peeped into some of the colleges. After the bustle, anxieties, fatigues VOL. 11.—29 and 446 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1828 and harass of a London life, the peace and quiet of those secluded, Gothic-windowed, holy chambers of study came over one’s feelings with a cooling sensation, as if one had mounted from hell to heaven, and been admitted on reprieve from the tortures and fierce passions of the enraged, the malignant, the ignorant and the lying, to the beautiful simplicity of angelic feelings, where all was good, and holy, and pious and majestic. “‘ I need not say it was vacation, or very likely my feelings in peeping in would not have been so very holy. ‘“‘T left Oxford next morning outside, and got to Stratford at two. I ordered dinner, and hurried away to Henley Street. The first thing I saw was a regular sign, projecting from a low house: ‘ The immortal Shakespeare was born in this house.’ I darted across, and cursed the door for keeping me out a moment, when a very decent and neat widow-looking woman came from a door that entered from the other house and let me in. I marched through, mounted an ancient staircase and in a moment was in the immortal room where Shakespeare gave the first puling cry, which announced he was living and healthy. “It is low and long, and has every appearance of having been in existence long before Shakespeare’s time. ‘The large old chimney has a cross-beamed front. ‘There is a document to the effect that his father bought the house when Shakespeare was ten years old, and a tradition he occupied it before: so that there is perhaps little doubt he was born in it, and as people generally are born in bedrooms, why this upstairs room probably gave birth to the poet. “The present possessor complains bitterly of the previous tenant, who after promising not to injure the names of all the illustrious visitors for the last eighty years, in mere spite because she was obliged to leave, whitewashed the whole room. His Majesty’s name, as Prince of Wales, can’t be found; Garrick’s, and the whole host of the famous of the last century, are for ever obliterated; and hundreds on hundreds of immortal obscure who hoped to cut out a little freehold of fame are again and for ever sunk to their natural oblivion. ‘The name of this old beldame is Hornby, and let her be damned to eternal fame with her worthy predecessor, Mr Gastrell. Illustrious pair, hail and be cursed! When she thought she was dying she confessed she had imposed on the visitors with her absurd relics and begged they might be burnt. Now she is well again she swears by them as much as ever. Those who sat up by her told the present occupant this. ‘“* A squinting Cockney came in while I was there; so I left and walked to the sequestered and beautiful spot where the dust of 1828] STRATFORD-ON-AVON 447 of this great genius lies at rest. A more delightful place could not have been found. It is Shakespeare in every leaf. It must have been chosen by himself as he stood in the chancel musing on the fate of the dead about him, and listening to the humming murmur and breezy rustle of the river and trees by which it stands. ‘Ihe most poetical imagination could not have imagined a burial-place more worthy, more suitable, more English, more native for a poet than this—above all, for Shakespeare. As I stood over his grave and read his pathetic entreaty and blessing on the reader who revered his remains, and curses on him who dared to touch; as I looked up at his simple unaffected bust, executed while his favourite daughter was living and put up by her husband; as I listened to the waving trees and murmuring Avon, saw the dim light of the large windows and thought I was hearing what Shakespeare had often heard, and was standing where he had stood many times, I was deeply touched. The church alone, from the seclusion of its situation, with the river and trees, and sky and tombs, was enough to call out one’s feelings; but add to this, that the remains of Shakespeare were near me, prostrate, decaying and silent in the grave he had himself pointed out, in a church where he had often prayed, and with an epitaph he had himself written while living, and it is impossible to say where on the face of the earth an Englishman should be more affected, or feel deeper, more poetical or more exquisite emotions. I would not barter that simple, sequestered tomb in Stratford for the Troad, the Acropolis or the field of Marathon. “The venerable clerk, whose face looked as if not one vicious thought had ever crossed his mind, seeing me abstracted, left me alone after unlocking the door that leads to the churchyard, as much as to say, ‘ Walk there, if you please.’ ‘I did so, and lounging close to the Avon turned back to look at the sacred enclosure. The sun was setting behind me, and a golden light and shadow chequered the ancient Gothic windows, as the trees moved by the evening wind alternately obscured or admitted the sun. I was so close that the tower and steeple shot up into the sky, like some mighty vessel out at sea, which you pass under for a moment and which with its gigantic masts seem to reach the vault of heaven. “ T stood and drank in to enthusiasm all a human being could feel—all that the most ardent and devoted lover of a great genius could have a sensation of—all that the most tender scenery of river, trees and sunset-sky together could excite. I was lost, quite lost, and in such a moment should wish my soul to take its flight (if it please God) when my time is finished. As soon as I recovered from my trance I was sorry to walk back to the town, to 448 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1828 to talk to waiters and chambermaids of tea and bread and butter, To feel they were requisite, to think of eating and drinking at all, was a bore and a disgust. ‘“* However, gratified I had lived to enjoy such feelings, I left this delightful seclusion. I dozed all night ina dream; I returned to bed but could not sleep, and early the next morning got up to set off for Charlecote. “To Charlecote I walked on foot as fast as my legs could carry me, and crossing a meadow entered the immortalised park by a back pathway. ‘Trees, giganticand umbrageous, at once announce the growth of centuries: while I was strolling on I caught a distant view of the old red-bricked house, in the same style and condition as when Shakespeare lived, and going close to the river- side came at once on two enormous old willows, with a large branch aslant the stream, such as Ophelia hung to. Every blade of grass, every daisy and cowslip, every hedge-flower and tuft of tawny earth, every rustling, ancient and enormous tree which curtains the sunny park with its cool shadows, between which the sheep glittered on the emerald green in long lines of light, every ripple of the river with its placid tinkle, ““* Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge It overtaketh in its pilgrimage,’ announced the place where Shakespeare imbibed his early, deep and native taste for landscape and forest scenery. Oh, it was delightful indeed! Shakespeare seemed to hover and bless all I saw, thought of or trod on. ‘“‘ Those great roots of the lime and oak, bursting, as it were, above the ground, bent up by the depth they had struck into it, Shakespeare had seen—Shakespeare had sat on. ‘“‘ Wondering I had seen no deer, I looked about, and saw a rascal, a lineal descendant, may be, of the very buck Shakespeare shot, lounging on his speckled haunches and staring at me. This completed the delightful delusion, and crossing a little old bridge over a branch of the Avon, of the same age as the hall, I came at once on the green before the house, and turning to the right under an arched doorway reached the front entrance of another archway with a tower at each angle. In the tower facing my left was a clock. Here was an iron gate, and inside a regular garden, the old front of the house showing at the end of it. ‘“‘ A young lady and an old one were talking to a parrot, and a gardener was shaving the grass plot with a scythe. He referred me to the housekeeper; so fearing I had intruded I returned to the back entrance, and meeting a servant asked to see the house. By 1828] CHARLECOTE 449 By this time chambermaid, cook, butler and all the evidences of a full establishment peeped at me by turns. I sent the respects of a gentleman from London and begged to see the house. The butler shortly after showed me to’ the hall, and afterwards the housekeeper came in. “The housekeeper of Washington Irving’s time was married. I saw the same pictures as he saw, and am convinced the hall is nearly the same as when Shakespeare was brought to it. I saw the old staircase and a collection of pictures with a good one or two amongst them—one a genuine Teniers of his marriage; a fine Hondekoeter, and heads of Sebastian del Piombo and Hobbema, all genuine. “The Lucy family appeared to me shy. They may not be ambitious of showing themselves as the descendants of the ‘lousy’ Lucy. ‘That satire sticks to them, and ever must as long as the earth is undestroyed. They sent for my card but nothing came of it. Perhaps they never heard of my name. “* This is the hall,’ said the amiable, good-humoured house- keeper, ‘where Sir Thomas tried Shakespeare.’ This is evi- dently the way the family pride alludes to the fact, and I dare say servants and all think Shakespeare a profligate, dissolute fellow, who ought to have been transported. “In the great hall window were the Lucy arms, three luces. I left the ill-bred, inhospitable house, my respect for the Lucies by no means much higher than Shakespeare’s; but the park amply compensated me, for a nobler, more ancient and more poetical forest I never saw. “ Fulbrook I could not stay to see; but if I live I will spend a week at Stratford, and ransack every hole and stream, and no doubt shall find the very place where Jaques soliloquised upon the wounded deer. “Just as I came again amongst the venerable trees it began to rain with a jubilee vigour, but the invulnerable foliage com- pletely secured me. I sat down on the roots of an ancient lime and mused on the house before me. A misshapen moss-grown statue of Diana, on a pedestal, as old as the house, was at the end of the large trees; and as I sat in thought a beautiful speckled doe and her young one, after regarding me for a moment, bounded off with a light spring as if their feet were feathered. Again they stopped, and again stared, and again they were off, and dashed behind some enclosure. Weary of the rain I sallied forth, and after crossing the meadow came into the road; but disdaining the beaten track I plunged into a bye-path, which brought me to the river, of which I caught a long, placid and willowed stretch, lucid as a mirror, reflecting earth and sky in sleepy splendour. I mounted 450 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1828 I mounted the bank again, and scrambling through a damp, soaking path came out on the road, drenched. “IT could not help remarking how short a road is when in pursuit of any object and how tedious after the object is gained. “‘ Wet to the knees, I passed, as I approached the old bridge, a humble sign of the Plough and Harrow. In I walked, and found an old dame blowing a wood fire; the room and chimney of the same age as Shakespeare; on a form with a back sat a countryman smoking, and by the window a decent girl making a gown; on the table by the door was a bundle of pipes, enclosed in three rings, the two end rings resting on two feet; a clock made by Sharp (who bought Shakespeare’s mulberry tree), a chest of drawers on three legs. The old furniture and the whole room looked clean, humble and honest. I ordered ale, which was excellent, and giving the smoker a pint asked him if he ever heard of Shakespeare. ‘'T’o be sure,’ said he, ‘but he was not born in Henley Street.’ ‘Where was he born?’ ‘ By the water-side, to be sure.’ ‘Why,’ said I, ‘how do you know that?’ ‘Why, John Cooper, in the almshouses.’ *‘Who’s he?’ said I. ‘ What does he know about it?’ said the old hostess. ‘Nonsense!’ said the young girl. My pot companion, giving a furious smoke at being thus floored at his first attempt to put forth a new theory of Shakespeare’s birthplace, looked at me very grave and prepared to overwhelm me at once. He puffed away, and after taking a sip said, ‘Ah, sir, there’s another wonderful fellow.’ ‘Who?’ said I, imagining some genius of Stratford who might contest the palm. ‘Why,’ said he, with more gravity than ever, ‘why, John Cooper.’ ‘John Cooper!’ said 1: ‘Why, what has he done?’ ‘Why, zur, I'll tell ’ee’; and then laying his pipe down, and leaning on his elbow, and looking right into my eyes under his old weather-beaten, embrowned hat, ‘I'll tell ’ee. He’s lived ninety years in this here town, man and boy, and has never had the toothache, and never lost wan.’ He then took up his pipe, letting the smoke ooze from the sides of his mouth instead of puffing it out horizontally, till it ascended in curls of conscious victory to the ceiling of the apartment, while my companion leaned back his head and crossed his legs with an air of superior intelligence as if this conversation must now conclude. We were no longer on a level. ‘‘ T spoke not another word: retired to my inn, the Red Horse; took another sequestered sigh at the grave, another peep at the house; got into the garden where the mulberry tree grew; heard the clock strike which Shakespeare had often heard, and getting into a Shrewsbury stage at nine the next morning was buried in London smoke and London anxieties before nine at night. “* Hail 1828] WILKIE’S ITALIAN PICTURES 451 ‘‘ Hail and farewell! Not the Loggie of Raffaele, or the Chapel of Michel Angelo, will ever give me such native, unadulterated rapture as thy silver stream, embosomed church and enchanting meadow, O immortal Stratford! ”’ Soon after his return to town Haydon again saw Wilkie. “ July 24th.—Called on Wilkie, and saw his Italian pictures, and was much pleased. Wilkie is getting better, and as he finds I am rising again he was not so cold. Parts of Washing the Pilgrim’s Feet were beautiful. His two studies of the Sybils from Michel Angelo were beautiful, but of course his want of knowledge made the drawing deficient. “Every feeling and theory of Wilkie centres in self. His theory now is no detail, because he finds detail too great an effort for his health. He said: ‘When you and I began the art we found everything splash and dash. We set about reforming it, and we did reform it.’ I was astonished at the liberality of this acknowledgment. “The King, with his usual benevolence, has bought two of his pictures. I was glad to see Wilkie recovering. We both talked of our excessive misfortunes, of Sir Walter’s misfortunes, and remarked if we all got through, how useful they will have been to the whole of us. “ 27th.—Wilkie called. He said I had no idea of Fra Barto- lomeo. He said some good things, and some weak things, as usual. He said he always stopped when he found a difficulty, and never painted anything but what was perfectly easy. This was entirely on account of his health; and because his health was weak, he laid down as an axiom in Art, that when you come to a difficulty you should stop. A pretty doctrine to teach a pupil! He said (which was good) ‘ that behind any object of interest there should be repose, and a flat shadow.’ I gave him a catalogue, and he said he must get it read to him, for he had not strength to read it. He looked gaunt and feeble. God knows what to make of Wilkie’s health. ? “But I was happy to see him. The many early and pleasant associations I have connected with Wilkie always must make him interesting to me. His selfishness and Scotch individuality have chilled, without destroying, my regard.” By close and hard work Haydon, by the end of July, had finished his picture of Chairing the Member. “ 30th.—Hard at work and finished the soldiers. It is done, and God be praised that I have accomplished this work in precisely the same time as the last, and that I have been blessed with health and competence and happiness. ““31st.—The Duke of Bedford called; he was infirm. He said, ‘ I suppose 452 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1828 ‘ I suppose the King will have this to complete the suite.’ I wish he may. He admired it exceedingly; but it is a satire touching so nearly on depravity that nobody but a king could sanction it. I passed the day before my picture contemplating improvements, and with my dear friend Miss Mitford. I prayed gratefully and sincerely; and have been quiet, serene and contented.” The point was now the exhibition of the picture. Where was the money to be found for a frame and for advertising? ‘‘ I wrote to two or three friends,” he says, ‘‘I hope successfully. Till I am out of debt, I shall be still obliged to pester my friends occasionally.”” His application, in one quarter at least, was successful. Joseph Strutt, of Derby, was ready again in this emergency. It is but one instance of assistance so given by this benevolent man, out of many of which records are preserved in the Journals of Haydon, and in all the manner of conferring the aid is as noble as the aid itself is munificent. The exhibition opened (at the Western Bazaar in Bond Street) and was moderately successful. Besides the new picture, it included Solomon, Christ’s Entry into Jerusalem and the draw- ings for the two prison pictures. The Mock Election was not there, as it had before this been removed to Windsor. From many letters of congratulation I select this from Charles Lamb. The half-profane, half-reverent allusion towards the end of it seems intended as a hint that it was questionable taste to introduce into the same exhibition of a single painter’s works subjects of broad humour and of religious solemnity; and the motive of this hint, to my mind, excuses the manner of it: “ Dear Haydon, ‘““T have been tardy in telling you that your Chairing the Member gave me great pleasure ; ’tis true broad Hogarthian fun, the High Sheriff capital. Considering, too, that you had the materials imposed upon you, and that you did not select them from the rude world as H. did, I hope to see many more such from your hand. If the former picture went beyond this I have had a loss, and the King a bargain. I longed to rub the back of my hand across the hearty canvas that two senses might be gratified. Perhaps the subject is a little discordantly placed opposite to another act of Chairing, where the huzzas were Hosannahs—but I was pleased to see so many of my old acquaintances brought together notwithstanding. ‘“‘ Believe me, yours truly,“ “C. LAMB.” The Chairing of the Member being at length off the easel, Eucles was fairly begun. Here is the painter’s own description of that picture (which was exhibited next year in an unfinished state) 1828] THE SUBJECT OF EUCLES 453 state) introduced here to render more intelligible subsequent . references to it while in progress: ‘* Eucles was a Greek soldier, who ran from Marathon to Athens, as soon as the victory over the Persians was decided, and died from fatigue and wounds just as he entered the city. “It is supposed (in the manner of treating the subject) that after Eucles had announced the victory to the primates he ran bleeding and exhausted to his own home, and dropped just as he reached it. “His wife and children are rushing out to welcome him, not knowing his condition: a man is springing from a step to catch him as he drops, a woman is hiding her face, and her daughter clinging to her, while a man on horseback is huzzaing to those behind. “In the background is the Acropolis; with the Propyleum, the Parthenon, and the statue of Minerva Promachus. “It is wished to express in the figure of Eucles the condition of a hero, fresh from a great battle—his crest torn—his helmet cleft in—one greave lost—and the other loose—all military array disorganised, and the whole figure announcing struggle, triumph and approaching death ! ““ Every caution, criticism and remark are courted. The inten- tion, expression, composition and action are as they are meant to be; the colour alone is unfinished, and not a subject for criti- cism. To show a picture in this state is an experiment, but it is to let the subscribers see it is advancing, and that it will soon be done. “As remarks have been made in consequence of this picture not being finished before the Mock Election, Mr Haydon begs to say he had leave of the principal subscribers to paint the Election first.”’ During the later months of 1828 Haydon was actively engaged in writing on the old subject—public patronage for Art—to influential members both of the Lords and Commons. The Duke of Wellington being now at the head of affairs, Haydon addressed himself to him, as he had done to Mr Robinson, Mr Vansittart and Mr Canning, but with no better effect. “ December 13th—I wrote the Duke, begging his leave to dedicate a pamphlet to him, on the causes which have obstructed the advance of High Art in England for the last seventy years. “ Here is his answer in his own immortal hand: ““* London, 12th December, 1828. ““The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Haydon, and has to acknowledge the receipt of his letter. “The Duke has long found himself under the necessity of declining 454 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1828 declining to give his formal permission that any work whatever should be dedicated to him. *** The Duke regrets much, therefore, that he cannot comply with Mr Haydon’s desire.’ ”’ Nothing daunted, Haydon returns to the charge. “* December 21st.—Wrote the Duke and stated the leading points of a system of public encouragement. God in heaven grant I may interest him. Ah, if I do!” On the 23rd came the prompt and decisive answer: “The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Haydon, and will readily peruse and attend to his work, but he is much concerned again to repeat that he must decline to give permission that any work should be dedicated to him.”’ On the 25th Haydon again wrote, and thus recapitulates the points of his letter: ‘* According to the Duke’s permission I sent him the leading points. I pointed out how a practical plan could be immediately put in force by adorning the Admiralty, Chelsea Hospital, House of Lords, etc. I said I have been asked by members of both Houses what practical plan I could propose. Encouraged by such a question I have replied, Let the great room at the Admiralty and Chelsea Hospital be adorned with the leading points of naval and military glory, and the House of Lords with four subjects to illustrate the best government, the first showing Horror of Demo- cracy (Banishment of Aristides), the second, Horror of Despotism (Burning of Rome by Nero), the third, Blessings of Law (Alfred establishing Trial by Jury), and the fourth, Limited Monarchy settled (the King returns crowned to Westminster Hall, welcomed by the shouts of beauty and rank). ‘‘ What finer accompaniment to the graceful magnificence of His Majesty ? ‘‘ Between each, portraits of the great—Alfred, Bacon, Nelson, Wellington, etc., and all those who established our greatness.”’ ‘“* IT concluded a strong letter by pointing out all the causes of the failure of historical painting, in the preponderance portrait got at the Reformation; and the remedy, the patronage of the State and the Sovereign. I finished by saying, ‘ Encumbered by laurel as the Duke is, there is yet a wreath that would not be the least illustrious of his crown.’ ‘* As this was an extract and not addressed to him, I apologised for the allusion. ‘“* But I suspect the Duke is innately modest: he was not pleased, and sent the following cold official reply, so different from his other letters: 7 ‘The 1828-29] CORRESPONDENCE WITH WELLINGTON 455 ““The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Haydon, and begs leave to acknowledge the receipt of his letter of the 25th instant. ““* London, Dec. 26th, 1828.’ “I know his character. I questioned the policy of saying it; but still, after my explanation, I trusted he would have understood the nature of my mind and my eager enthusiasm. ** At any rate the truth has gone unto him, and though he may be angry with my obliging him to see it, he can’t forget it. I have put him in possession of the ground. ‘Time will develop all.” On the last day of the year a purchaser | was found for the Chairing at £300, “‘ £225 less than its worth,” says Haydon; but the offer was accepted from sheer necessity. The net receipts from these two pictures, including the produce of the exhibition and the sale of drawings, amounted to £1396, a sum, as he observes, which in better circumstances and with less expense would have been a comfortable independence for the year. 1829 The first month of this year ushered into the world a pamphlet, in which Haydon set out for the public the same reasons which he had so long been vainly urging on ministers, in favour of the public employment of artists. ‘The best disposed of his friendly critics agreed that, admitting the truth of his reasoning, it was hopeless to expect any realisation of what he asked for. The Duke of Wellington, with his usual punctuality, acknowledged, with his own hand, the receipt of the pamphlet, immersed as he was at the moment in the growing difficulties of the Catholic question, which now agitated the country and engrossed the Cabinet. Haydon remarks on this striking proof of disciplined attention at such a time: “‘ What an extraordinary man Wellington is! The day I sent my letter his head must have been full, morning, noon and night. Parliament opens on Thursday. The Catholic question was coming on. The Spitalfields weavers came in procession with a petition. There was a Council till six. The day before he was at Windsor. In addition to all this, consider the hundreds of letters, and petitions and immediate duties, and yet he found time to answer himself my request, with as much caution and presence of mind as if lounging in his drawing-room with nothing else to do.” On the 30th he wrote the Duke “‘ to ask with all the respect due to his illustrious character,’ whether if his plan for the * Mr Francis, a country gentleman, living near Exeter. encouragement 456 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1829 encouragement of historical painting by a grant of a moderate sum of money were brought forward in the House of Commons, it would meet with any obstacle on the part of His Grace, or whether, if His Grace should be favourably disposed towards his prostrate style of Art, he would rather that any plan of that nature should emanate entirely from himself? His Grace’s opinion (Haydon assured him) would be held sacred by him, and he concluded with every apology for his presumption. The Duke replied: ‘The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Haydon, and has had the honour of receiving his letters. ‘“‘ The Duke begs leave to reserve his opinion upon the encourage- ment proposed to be given to historical painting, until he will see the practical plan for such encouragement.”’ On this Haydon at once submitted his practical plan: “ oth February, 1829. ““ May it please your Grace, ‘“‘T beg respectfully to express my deep sensibility of the high honour conferred by your Grace’s reply, viz. that you reserved your opinion till you saw the practical plan to be proposed. May it please your Grace, it must be admitted that historical painting has never flourished in England as in Italy or France, solely because it has never been patronised by the State in this country. “ It will therefore be proposed (not without the sanction of your Grace), that £4000 be granted every two years for six years for the employment of historical painters ; and if, at the end of that period, the works produced justify the liberality of the grant, ‘That the £4000 shall be continued annually for ten years more, to be renewed every ten years, or abolished at the end of the first ten years, according to the success or failure of the system pursued. ‘“‘ It will be proposed that a Committee of the House, as in the case of the Elgin Marbles, be selected to examine the most eminent artists as to the best method of disposing of the money to be dis- tributed, the plan to be regulated according to the report made. ““ May it please your Grace, ** The above is the plan to be proposed, provided your Grace approves of it being brought into the House; but if your Grace should say £4000 shall be laid aside to try the effect of commissions from the State as in France, and should condescend to ask me, as an individual, for my opinion as to an immediate practical plan, I should presume, encouraged by such a distinction, to say the best and most effectual plan would be at once to give four commissions to four of the most established artists to paint four pictures on an important scale, size of life, viz. : One 1829] CORRESPONDENCE WITH THE DUKE 457 One military. i . for Chelsea Hospital. One naval . x ; . for great room Admiralty. One sacred . ‘ . . for an altar-piece. One civil. . for hall of justice. ‘““ May it please your Grace, ‘““T have received a letter from a distinguished member of the House of Commons within this week, saying historical painting will never flourish in England but from grants of public money as in France, where the effect of such a system is visible, a large school of history being solely supported by such means. “T humbly and respectfully hope that the sum proposed will be considered by your Grace as so moderate as not (if permitted) to interfere with the system of rigid economy determined on by His Majesty’s Government, and that, as the condition of historical painting is prostrate, and will decay and be extinct without the system pursued in other countries where it has flourished be adopted, your Grace will be pleased to add to the other glories of your ministry the glory of establishing a system of national aid to the arts in the highest style. ‘“ Anxiously awaiting your Grace’s reply as my sole guide, ““ Ever your Grace’s humble servant and ‘* Ardent admirer, “ B. R. Haypon.,”’ Which eager appeal was met by this brief and conclusive answer: “The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Haydon, and has had the honour of receiving his letter. “The Duke must again beg leave to decline to give an answer until the plan shall be brought regularly before him. “The Duke must, however, in the first instance, object to the grant of any public money for the object.” This left no opening for further correspondence, even to Haydon’s pertinacity, and he applied for advice to Mr George Agar Ellis. “ February 14th.—Saw Mr Agar Ellis by appointment, and told him all that had passed between the Duke and myself. Asked him if I had any chance by laying the plan regularly before him through the secretaries. He said, ‘ Not in the least: that last year the Directors of the Gallery applied to Government for £3000, offering £3000 of their own money, for a piece of ground to extend the National Gallery. Lord Wellington would not listen to it. And when he granted the Museum some money he told the trustees that next year they must go without.’ ““Mr Agar Ellis said he would be on the alert, and put in a word occasionally whenever an opportunity occurred, but he gave me no hope whatever at present. He begged me to continue my 458 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1829 my pamphlets every year, and whenever he saw a prospect he would make the motion requisite; but unless sanctioned by Government it would be impossible to carry it, because there is a strong party in the House against it, which if backed by Govern- ment would be quite irresistible. Well. ‘The King is my only hope now; and perhaps he is afraid of the Duke, as everybody appears to be. I cannot help expressing my astonishment at the masterly manner in which the Duke has managed Peel. If he had let him resign, he would have been head of the opposition to Emancipation, and safe to have been minister. By persuading him to stay he has ruined the only chance Peel ever had of being formidable. All my predictions about Wellington are daily coming true. He will rescue the country, double its power and leave it with its revenue flourishing, feared, respected and wondered at.” July 22nd—This matter settled, Haydon now renewed his intercourse with Wilkie. ‘‘ Hada very pleasant two hours indeed with Wilkie looking over his Spanish pictures, and had one of our usual discussions about Art. ‘The worst of it is one never can find out Wilkie’s genuine opinion upon Art. He is always influenced by his immediate interests, or convenience, whatever that may be. Now it is all Spanish and Italian Art. He thinks nothing of his early and beautiful efforts—his Rent Day, his Fiddler, his Politicians. ‘ ‘They are not carried far enough ’—as if anything on earth, in point of expression and story, was ever carried further. “We then, of course, got on the old subject—my writing. Wilkie said, ‘ It is not the most conducive to a man’s interests to be too right.’ (I thought this a good touch.) ‘ It is rather better,’ said he, ‘to let others imagine they are right and you wrong, if you want to get on in the world.’ “When an opinion of Wilkie’s cannot be traced to any personal consideration, it may be listened to with safety. In composition he is perfectly infallible. “Italian Art is to him quite new, and he comes out to his own astonishment with notions and principles which, to those who began, as I did, with Italian Art, are quite a settled and old story. At the same time there is great liberality in Wilkie, for he keeps nothing to himself, and, right or wrong, always communicates his thoughts to others. * 25th.—Wilkie called, and we had again a long and enter- taining conversation. He said when he came to Madrid, of course English Art had never been heard of. He had a character to make. He began his Council of War, which the King had bought. ‘The artists called and could make nothing of his system of 1829] CONVERSATIONS WITH WILKIE 459 of Art. At last, as it began to be completed, they began to be interested, and old Gomez (Ferdinand’s painter) said to a friend of Wilkie’s, ‘ Depend on it, the English don’t know who they have got in Signior Vix.’ He never could pronounce Wilkie’s name. “‘ Wilkie strenuously advised me to get to Italy, family and all. One can’t depend on his sincerity. I have got a character, and made a hit in satire; got ground in a style which he finds he cannot touch without being considered an imitator. God knows; he may be sincere. Would to God men had lanterns in their breasts as Socrates said. By staying so long abroad he has lost ground, I am convinced; and I am also convinced if I went now I should break up an interest I could never effectually recover. “By dunning all classes about my misfortunes I have got all classes to lament that my style of Art is not more supported; this is a step. If I go away and break off, the sympathy will be dissipated. “March 1st.—Spent an hour with Wilkie very delightfully. Since his return from Italy he seems tending to me very much. We got mutually kind to-day, and mutually explained. The only quarrel we ever had was about that arrest.!_ I was too severe and he too timid. We ought to have made allowance for our respective peculiarities. He had been my old friend. He had dined with me the night before. We had drunk success to my marriage. We parted mutually friendly. ‘The next morning I was arrested by a printer, to whom I had paid £120 that year, for the balance of £60. It was the second time in my life. The bailiff said, ‘ Have you no friend, sir?’ ‘ Certainly,’ said I, and at once drove to Wilkie’s. Where ought I to have driven? Whom ought I to have thought of? ‘I thought it would come to this,’ said Wilkie; and after a great deal of very bad behaviour he became my bail. When roused I am like a furious bard of ancient days. I poured forth such a dreadful torrent of sarcasm and truth that I shook him to death. Wilkie told me to-day it sank deep into his mind, and never left him for months. His journey to Italy has opened his mind to the value and importance of my views of Art. I see he thinks higher of me than ever. We agreed to-day never to allude to our unfortunate quarrel, with a mutual desire of continuing our friendship, and I hope it is buried for ever. I should hope it is. ‘“ His temperament is different; but my sister told me she was convinced he had more regard for me than any other person. He was affected to-day, and so was I. I hope we shall end our lives as we began them. 1 See note on p. 838. Z oe We 460 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1829 ‘We both talked of Sir George, and of the happy days we had passed with him, and bitterly lamented him. ‘“““ Real Art is that which savages feel as well as the refined,’ said Wilkie. ‘ Of course,’ said I; ‘ and the greatest artists are those whose fame does not depend on technicalities, but on intellect and expression. ‘These form a universal language.’ ““ He speaks very highly of Fra Bartolomeo, Michel Angelo and Titian. I do not think Raffaele impressed him so much. He is quite altered in his views of Art, and has got a large canvas up, to my infinite delight. ** When I remember the rows we used to have about my painting large, and to hear him now say, ‘ Ah—dear—dear—I wish my pictures were larger,’ it is impossible to help laughing. That is all I fear. ** Wilkie’s mind is a mind of extreme simplicity. For eight years I battled him about his painting to please the Academicians. He now says they nearly ruined him. In fact, he finds I am right in attacking the whole system of British Art. What I did publicly, he is now doing privately. He argued with me that there was not a man who can colour in the art except Jackson, and he only occasionally. ** Wilkie said if Lawrence did not paint portraits he would not get a subsistence. I agreed with him. What a thing the King’s portrait was! We both agreed. Good God! what drawing—perspective—composition! What will foreign artists think? Was there ever such a thing painted? The head is the only part my eye can bear. “I never saw any man so ignorant of perspective and com- position as Lawrence. He never puts his feet at the right angle. ‘* Wilkie wished me to try subjects of more simplicity. I think he is right. He said, ‘ Why paint subjects of humour?’ ‘ Ah, my friend, these I have started up in since you were abroad!’ I may say to him, ‘ Why paint subjects of history?’ He said, ‘ You belong to a certain class of Art, and you ought to keep there.’ No!—no!—I will carry the principles of a higher class into satire, and, as Lord Gower said, ‘ [’ll found a new one.’ ** Master David, I think I scent the old human nature. But with all thy faults I like thee still, and can nowhere find thy equal. ‘* T believe you think so of me, and the best way is to forget, and make the remainder of our lives as happy as possible; for twenty years will make such a vast advance towards the grave, and then there will be no time to forget grievances. ‘* We have known each other twenty-four years—since 1805— the finest time of our lives. Now comes the mature part, and then the decaying. God grant we may yet add to our reputation. “* More 1829] COMMENCEMENT OF PUNCH 46 I “More want of prints. I have little continental reputation; but I will have. And if they cried per Bacco for Wilkie in Rome, they shall cry per Giove for me, they may depend on it, when I come.” On the 6th of March Haydon had another child born to him— a daughter—brought into the world amidst the excitement of Catholic emancipation and the distresses of her struggling and combative father, who could not be brought to comprehend the indifference with which the great bulk of the Cabinet, the Legis- lature and the public viewed the whole subject of Art. ‘““* When the country is quiet,’” he writes (March 2oth), ““* something will be done for Art.’ When the country is quiet! When will that be? Was Florence ever quiet? Was Rome, or Pisa, or Venice or Athens? No. Nothing but turbulence and struggle in them, and yet the arts advanced and flourished.” With all his devotion to his pencil Haydon took a keen interest in the politics of the day, and wrote many letters to the news- papers in favour of Catholic emancipation, strenuously urging trust in Wellington. Nay, he even wrote to the Duke a letter of sympathy and respectful encouragement, which the Duke acknow- ledges with his usual promptness. But besides the distraction of public events, Haydon was harassed at this time by the conduct of the purchaser of his last picture—a young man, who after buying it became alarmed at his rash act, and it was not till'the painter was on the brink of arrest (from which indeed he was only saved by his friend Dr Darling) that he got the price of the picture, £300, half in money and half in bills. This saved him from a prison, and he began his picture of Punch. “ April 15th.—Finished one cursed portrait; have only one more to touch, and then I shall be free. I have an exquisite gratification in painting portraits wretchedly. I love to see the sitters look as if they thought, Can this be Haydon’s—the great Haydon’s—painting? I chuckle. I am rascal enough to take their money, and chuckle more. When a man says, ‘ Paint me a historical picture,’ my heart swells towards him. All my powers tush forth. He seems at once to have turned the key to my cabinet of invention, for I teem instantly with thoughts. Yester- day when I rubbed in Punch, my thoughts crowded with delight. My children’s noise hurt my brain. At such moments no silence Is great enough, but I am never let alone. Good God! what I should have produced had I been let loose in a great palace, and saved from distracting embarrassments. “ 16th.—Rubbed in Punch. It should rather be called Life. “ May 2nd.—Began to-day; worked and completed all my portraits. Now to imagination with all my heart and all my soul. VOL. II.—30 Sir 462 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1829 Sir George Phillips called, and on looking at my portraits and small Eucles said, ‘ Ah, you are in the right way now!’ ze. I have come down to what artists and connoisseurs think so. God help them! Give me the dome of St Paul’s, and they should see which I think the right one. “* 3rd.—Called on Wilkie, who was at the levee on Friday. On the whole he seemed pleased with the effect of his pictures at the Academy. Wilkie’s face expressed great feeling when I wished him good morning. ** 4th —At the Exhibition Wilkie’s portrait of Lord Kellie looked dark in flesh, but broad and wonderfully fine in effect. I agree with Seguier. He spoilt it by the caution he put it in with. His other Italian and Spanish pictures have not made the impression he imagined. Indeed they are in so altered a style the public cannot make them out. ‘The woman in the Saragossa is not beautiful. I am not pleased they do not look better. “It is no use to affect what I do not feel. I have little or no sympathy with the moderns. ‘The communion I feel is with Titian, with Rubens, with Veronese for execution and colour, with Raffaele and Michel Angelo, and the Elgin Marbles for form and expression, and with Nature for all these, with the addition of humour, and fun and satire. I see nothing in modern exhibi- tions from which I can learn, and which I can look at with that delight and confidence I feel before an ancient work. It is not from conceit, for I reverence my superiors; but there is in English Art an inherent ignorance of the frame and structure—a vulgar ruddiness of colour—an ignorance of harmony of action as well as its contrasts—a lack of repose that leaves the mind in a state of excitement and fatigue, till one hurries away to a Titian or a Claude for relief and consolation, as one looks out of a heated ball-room at daybreak and listens to the lark, and scents the cool freshness of the dewy grass, and forgets the passions, disgusts, heats, fatigues and frivolities within, in the peace and heavenly repose of renewing Nature. And yet what vast, mistaken, illiterate power is in an English exhibition, struggling like an untaught giant to give vent to his ideas in a language he does not scientifically know. ** But why say all this? Why not keep my mind fixed, and in blessed quiet do my best without interfering with others? This is the best way, and the only way. Paint—paint—paint! “* 6th and 7th.—Went early to the Exhibition, and fell in acci- dentally with Lady Beaumont and Mrs Phipps. Wilkie’s portrait does not preponderate, as I thought it would; and except the Cigar picture, the Spanish pictures do not support his reputation. The Cigar picture is a beautiful thing, and the best. ** Called 1829] LAWRENCE AND THE DUKE 463 ** Called on W——, who was half-distant, half-disturbed. He told me Lawrence addressed the Duke at the dinner, and appealed to him for aid to build an academy. The Duke rubbed his face with his hand. “Here was Lawrence owing the Duke £2000 nearly, which he had advanced him for a large picture of all his general officers in Spain, and which he had never touched, to the Duke’s great anger, who expresses himself everywhere very strongly; here was Lawrence addressing the Duke, both he and the Duke feeling conscious of their private relation, and Lawrence the merest tool of the Academicians, who had set him on. It is pitiable! I never saw any man who has so subdued a look as Lawrence, as if he was worried out of his senses. “ 8th.—Spent the day at the British Museum in ecstasy. How the Elgin Marbles looked after along time! I bowed bareheaded as I entered, as I always do. “Sketched from the Capitoline, Clementine and Florentine Museums. How thoroughly the ancients understood form and motion and grace! Nothing they ever did was ungraceful. “‘ toth.—Read prayers at home, felt bitter remorse of conscience at my late neglect. It is extraordinary infatuation. I go on, day after day, like Johnson, in hypochondria, looking for hours at my picture, without the power to do one single thing. With my family it is dreadful. I am so often thrown off my balance by pecuniary difficulty, that it is a perpetual struggle to get on the road again. And yet the only chance I have of getting out of difficulty is by hard work; and now my health is so much recovered I ought not thus to dissipate the fine maturity of my life. Ten days are gone in May; all April and all January I did nothing: oh, it is disgraceful! O God, assist me to vanquish this bitter delinquency of infatuation. If I had read, if I had increased my knowledge, it would be well. But to have done nothing but sit and muse and build castles, till I awoke and mused again! I can hardly read without sleeping. Nothing keeps me alive but painting, and that I think of at this moment with disgust. Strange creature, man! ““11th.—Went first to the National Gallery, and studied well the Gevartius, the Titian, the Sebastiano. Then walked to the Royal Academy on purpose to compare modern with ancient Art. Wilkie’s portrait of Lord Kellie looked blackish and broad. Clint’s Lord Spencer made the flesh suffer. This portrait has raised my opinion of Clint very much indeed; the head is exceed- ingly fine. Wilkie’s portrait looks like a common person in a lord’s dress; Clint’s like a nobleman of literature and taste, dressed as he ought to be. There is something in the eminent portrait 464 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1829 portrait painters, from their daily and perpetual intercourse with Nature, that painters of history can always look at with advantage and learn from. I am astonished at this portrait of Clint’s, for whom I had once a great contempt. Pickersgill and Clint are instances of what hard work and diligence will accomplish with- out one atom of invention or genius. “* :2th._—Partly breakfasted with Wilkie, and spent two hours pleasantly. The King sitting to him, his being at the levee, and altogether his intercourse at Court have affected him, though not much. I dare say he will be Sir David if he succeed with the King. He advised me to be patient. God knows Ineedit. The more one reflects on Christianity, the more one is convinced Christ’s advice is the best guide. ‘‘ y4th—Worked hardish, and all my depression vanished. I have lost hope for history, and this a great hindrance. ‘‘ 17th.—Worked deliciously hard; felt light, happy and in- vincible. Walked in the evening with Talfourd. Read prayers with dear Frank, and slept tranquilly, as if angels were fanning me with their wings. Ah, could I always feel so! ‘“* Succeeded in the head of the mother of Eucles. Talfourd said, before I asked, ‘ What a distracted and anxious beauty! ’— the very thing I tried for. “ 18th.—Made a drawing, but felt feeble in mind, and lazy in body. Called at the Admiralty and saw Mr Riley, who gave me hopes of placing my boy1ina ship. I hope he will distinguish himself. One of the critics on Pharaoh ? said, ‘ the Queen and all the family were too much dressed for the time of night.’ I hada great mind to write, and say “I had authority for stating that Pharaoh and the royal family were too anxious that night to take off their clothes; and that there is every reason to infer from a passage in Sanconiathon, Lib. Mccccccxix. chap. MMMII., that the ladies of the family came out of their apartments in their tunics only, the elder sister with only one sandal and one ear- ring, and that Pharaoh had his night-cap on when he first got up; but being reminded by the eunuch-in-waiting, took it off, and put on his crown.’ ‘“‘ What criticism! If there was time to send for Moses and Aaron, surely there was time to dress at least decently. ““ 5ond.—At West’s sale. I took Frank, and asked him how he liked the Christ in Christ Rejected, and he said it was common. He is six years old, and this is a capital evidence of feeling and taste. Nothing on earth could be truer. ‘‘ When first I came to town, West was in the vigour of his life 1 His second stepson, Simon Hyman.—EDbD. 2 Then exhibiting. i —ta 1829] WEST’S PICTURES 465 —tall and upright. He then sunk down, lost his teeth, and died. His works, and house, and all are selling; and shortly not a vestige of his house and gallery will be left. “‘ Sketched in a print-shop. Saw a print of Correggio, which enchanted me. Beauty should predominate in everything—in form, expression, colour, light and shadow, drawing and drapery. Beauty in means and pleasure in effect should be the principle. Did not paint. “ 23rd.—Exceedingly hard at work, but after working eight hours was obliged to undress my lay-figure and take her out to raise three pounds for my family. Something might be done to prevent this disgrace. ‘ 25th.—Hardish at work; four hours. Went to the last day of West’s sale. Studied his work. Titian took eight years to paint the Peter Martyr. West would have painted eight hundred in the time. ““ In drawing and form his style was beggarly, skinny and mean. His light and shadow was scattered, his colour brick dust, his impression unsympathetical, and his women without beauty or heart. “There was not one single picture of a quality to delight the taste, the imagination, or the heart. “The block-machine at Portsmouth could be taught to paint as well. ““ His Venuses looked as if they never had been naked before, and were too cold to be impassioned; his Adonises dolts; his Cupids blocks—unamorous. As I left the room, I went into the dining-parlour, and saw two delicious sketches of Rubens. My heart jumped.” In July Haydon set heartily to work on his picture of Punch, and was occupied with it continuously (with the interval of a visit to Plymouth, to vote for his friend, Captain Lockyer) till its completion in November. The picture is now in the pos- session of his old and tried friend, Dr Darling. Its character is Hogarthian—a humorous satire on life. The scene is near Marylebone Church. In the left-hand corner of the picture is Mr Punch’s theatre, with the performance in progress; in front of it, a simple old farmer, hat in hand and dog at heel, is gazing with delight at that admirable tragi-comedy, unconscious that a »pickpocket’s hand is upon his pocket-book, while a flashily dressed confederate holds the victim in talk; near the farmer, a soldier and sailor, a nursemaid with a child, and a street-sweeper are looking on in delight; a revel of May-day sweeps, with Jack-in- the-green and his lady, is in full caper in the right-hand corner of the composition, while behind the knot of spectators, a Bow Street officer, 466 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1829 officer, truncheon in hand, is stealing ferret-like upon the pick- pocket. ‘The extreme left of the composition is occupied by a charming figure—an apple-girl sleeping by her stall. A carriage, with a newly married pair, and a black servant in full grin behind, is driving past the show; in the middle distance a hearse issues out of a cross-street. Just beyond Mr Punch’s theatre, two horsemen, in the fashionable dress of the day, are riding along, and in the background is an Italian image-boy, with casts of the Theseus and Ilissus on his board, neglected for the more potent attractions of Punch. The picture is remarkable for the force and truth of expression in the heads throughout; and the execution of much of it, particularly the old farmer and his dog, and the sleeping girl, leaves nothing to be desired. ‘The canvas is about 8 feet by 6, and the figures, of course, less than life-size. Wilkie esteemed the picture very highly. Dr Darling mentions, in a letter now before me, that he saw Sir David, “‘no mean judge and not overmuch given to praise,” when this picture was exhibited, pass his hand over the left-hand portion, exclaiming, ““How fine, how very fine, that part is!’ adding, “If that picture were in Italy, you would see it surrounded by students from all parts of Europe engaged in copying it.” ‘The picture altogether impresses me with a high opinion of the painter’s power of conceiving and delineating character. The old farmer, especially, in dress, attitude, and character at all points,’ would do credit to either Hogarth or Wilkie himself, though it may be doubted if either could have equalled it on the same scale. The fault of the picture is a little overcrowding, and a con- sequent confusion in the lines of the composition. While this picture was in progress, Haydon saw Wilkie from time to time—with something, indeed, like a renewal of their old intimacy. July 30th, I find, “‘ Called on Wilkie, who was finishing Holy- rood House picture for the King. This will be a very curious picture. He began it before he went to Italy, when detail and finish were all in all to him. He is finishing it now, when he has entirely changed his style. ‘The Duke of Argyle, the King’s head, the man on horseback with the crown, are in his first style: the trumpeters, the dress of the Duke of Hamilton, the woman, etc., in his last; and the mixture is like oil and water. He was pale and rather depressed. He has not made the hit this season he imagined he should make. Isat with him and his sister while they dined, and he had evidently sunk down into an emaciated 1 Though even in him there is a defect in proportion, the arms being of unnatural length. old 1829] WILKIE’'S CHANGE OF STYLE 467 old bachelor. There sat I, rosy, plump, and full of difficulties, harass, and trouble, with a large family, and a dear wife. I could not help thinking in early life of our occasional conversations on marriage. ‘When I marry,’ Wilkie used to say, ‘it will be a matter of interest.’ ‘When I marry,’ I always said, ‘ it will be for love, and for nothing else.’ See the result. He has no household anxieties, no domestic harass, no large family to bring up. But he has no sweet affections, no tender sympathies. Would I exchange my situation for David Wilkie’s? No, no; not if I had ten times the trouble, the anxiety, the harass, the torture. ‘August 1st—Moderately at work. Wilkie called and we had a long confab. We both lamented the death of Sir George and Lady Beaumont. She has left the Michel Angelo to the Academy. “Wilkie liked the Eucles very much indeed. Now he is glazing mad, he was advising me what to do, and I told him to take the palette and do it. He then glazed and muddled a head, just in the style he is doing now, which looked rich and filthy, and I rubbed it out. I cautioned him as to his disposition to manner and excess from any new idea in his head, which he acknowledged. His pictures are actually becoming black and white patches, like Raeburn’s. Wilkie laughed at Punch. We thought it odd he should tumble into history, and I into burlesque. ‘* 2nd.—Hard at work and finished the sailor, and then advanced the whole picture. “* 3rd.—Moderately at work and advanced the effect and light and shadow. Wilkie was full of wax, and Lord knows what; restless thing the human mind. His first picture will stand for ever, and so will mine, and now he has almost tempted me to quack as well as himself, with his wax and magylp. Solomon, Jerusalem, Lazarus, Macbeth and Dentatus, are painted in pure oil; so are the Fiddler, Politicians, Card-players, Chelsea Pen- sioners, Village Wake; in fact, all his early works. When I first began to paint I executed a head, glazing over pure colour. Wilkie was pleased, and borrowed it. He had then painted nearly all the Blind Fiddler, except the right hand of the fiddler, which he immediately began, leaving out yellow, and painting in white, red, and blue purely, and glazing it into tone. Any painter will see the difference of colour and texture in the right hand of the fiddler from all the other flesh in the picture. “ 6th.—Harassed: fagged about in the heat and filth of the town to arrange money matters, and came home exhausted: after some refreshment, my horseguardsman being ready, I set to work heartily and finished him before four, and a capital fellow he is in the picture. eth. 468 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1829 ‘* 7th_—Harassed still. A severe pain in the pit of my stomach from sheer anxiety. Flew about the town like an eagle. Got things settled. Talked to this man, promised t’other, took a cab, and dashed home, and after a lunch, which I devoured like a hungry tiger, set to work at my Punch, and vastly advanced it. Thus so far I have not missed a day. J’ll try to go through the month so if possible. I saw E[dwin] L[andseer] as I came home, lounging through Bond Street on a blood-horse, with a white hat, and all the airs of a man of fashion. There was I, his instructor and master, trudging on with seven children at my back, and no money. “ 8th—Worked hard till one o’clock: then sallied forth to stop lawyers, and battle with creditors. The week is over, and I have to thank God that in the mixture of good and evil good has preponderated largely. ““T look for thorough rest to-morrow, but I fear I must not take it. “* gth.—I took rest and retired to the windmill beyond Kilburn, where I lounged on the grass and read the first volume of Allan Cunningham’s Lives of the Painters. J am sorry to see a cant rising which I will not demolish till it is more ripe, viz. a disdain for all education in Art; an indifference to the great who are gone; and a disposition to trust all to the ‘ wild Academy of Nature.’ Hogarth is a specimen of the one: Reynolds, Rubens, Titian, Raffaele and Michel Angelo of the other. Reynolds has long settled the question, but Allan Cunningham, a disciple of Chantrey’s, who believes himself to be Nature’s own high-priest, has laboured hard to revive this exploded trash. “‘ His review in the Quarterly, and his Lives, shall undergo an investigation as soon as I have time. “‘ 12th.—Finished the shepherd’s dog (the farmer’s). Met him by accident. I am remarkably fortunate in models. I went out yesterday in a pet because a model disappointed me. Just as I came into the New Road down rushed a flock of sheep, and a most thoroughbred sheep-dog. I hailed the drover, en- gaged the dog instanter, and to-day completed him. All my dissections of the lion came into play immediately, the con- struction being the same. ““ 22nd.—Ill and fatigued, harassed, exhausted. Nature will be paid back in repose what she has paid in labour. Napoleon’s plan was a good one, to counteract excessive labour by excessive repose.” Much of the following criticism still applies to the Painted Hall at Greenwich: “ 24th—Went to Greenwich, and spent the day with my friend, 1829] THE PAINTED HALL AT GREENWICH 469 friend, one of the purchasers of Solomon. Saw the gallery they are making. The plan originated with me. Lord Farnborough had the meanness to decline my plan for the Admiralty, and adopt it, without reference to me, at Greenwich. ‘“ Never was the ignorance of the power—the public power— of the art shown so completely as in the arrangement of the gallery. Instead of making history the leading feature, adorned and assisted by leading portraits of the great and illustrious only, it is a family collection of portraits with names one never heard of—men who got commands through borough-mongeries, and did nothing to deserve distinction, then or now. Ranged along at the bottom are a few paltry attempts at incidents of naval history, cabinet size, as if to bring the higher walks of Art into actual contempt. No figure in such a gallery ought to be less than life at least, and as to subjects, let them be chosen to illustrate the actors, and not the actors to be buried in the scenes and shipping. ‘Lord Farnborough and Mr Croker have got unlimited power to adorn this hall, and now they have the opportunity we see the extent of their notions of the capability of painting. All they have done is to unlock the garrets of ‘old families who have had a Dick or Jack in the navy, who once in their lifetime burnt a Terror bomb or drove off a pirate from a convoy. “Instead of arranging the whole hall with reference to one general idea, the glory of the British Navy, their principal object has been to oblige my lord by hanging up some fusty old portrait of my lord’s great grandfather. In fact, they have reversed the order of the art, and if they had wished to degrade history, they cud not have done it more successfully than by their present plans.” The old hankering after the pen instead of the pencil still occasionally crossed Haydon’s mind; but experience had taught a lesson even to him. ‘“ September 1oth_—I saw a pompous announcement in the Times which excited me dreadfully to be at it. I got up; set my palette, my imagination teeming with thoughts of sarcasm and humour. I took up my pen; laid down my brush, stopped, thought, and inwardly said, ‘ The wit, though irresistible, will be temporary; the injury lasting; paint—paint.’ After a struggle I conquered my evil genius, and finished the best hand I ever painted, except the Christ’s in the Lazarus. “ r11th.—The safest principle through life, instead of reforming others, is to set about perfecting yourself. I triumphed yesterday over my evil passions, and this thought was the result.” In September Haydon was at Plymouth, as_ passionately absorbed 4770 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1829 absorbed (he confesses with shame) in the bustle and strife of a borough election, as if electioneering had been his business instead of painting. ‘This interval of varied activity, however, improved his health (which during the whole of this year had been suffering from the harass of perpetual money difficulties), but threw him back in his work. “* October 12th —This day month I left town for Devonshire, and have not touched a brush till to-day. Borough squabbles I have nothing to do with, and it will hardly be believed how deeply this jaunt has cut into my habits. Instead of getting quiet (to which I was entitled after work), I got down among old friends who worried and distracted me: gossip, chatter, scandal, idleness, dining, toasting and speechifying interrupted the chain of my conceptions, and instead of finishing my picture, which I should have accomplished, I came back and have all to begin again, just as I was getting into thick-coming fancies and delightful thoughts. Curse these interruptions: they may do one’s health good, but they destroy one’s thinking. “* 30th.—One should keep all the traits and all the stories one can collect of the times of Napoleon. Monsieur D’Embden, an old officer of the Chasseurs de la Garde, dined with me, and in moments of expansion, by a good fire, and over a glass of wine, described the deeds of vice, violence and iniquity which the soldiers of Napoleon had done over Europe. No wonder the world arose as if by instinct against his despotism. Wherever the army came convents were opened! In Bohemia the men under D’Embden’s command escaladed a convent. The first victim was a poor young creature who had been from twelve years of ageanun. The old abbess fell on her knees, and begged for mercy. The soldiers kicked her away, said D’Embden, pre- tending to believe (with true French refinement of vice) that she was praying for an embrace. On a march once they were quartered on a gentleman, who said, ‘ Officiers Francais, here is my wife; I trust her to your honour.’ His two daughters he concealed. ‘The soldiers violated the servant girl, and found out there were daughters. At dinner the next day D’Embden said, ‘I don’t dine without your daughters.’ The master of the house brought them, blushing and confused. D’Embden said, ‘ You have deceived me; I place you under arrest three days.’ The officers then proceeded to violate wife and daughters, which they accomplished, while they were drinking this man’s wine, and living in his house. ‘ Mon ami Chauvin,’ said D’Embden, ‘ got into agood thing. In passing through a town we entered a church as a young bridegroom and bride just married were coming out. The bridegroom pushed a French soldier. It was taken as an insult. 1829] MONSIEUR D’EMBDEN 471 insult. Chauvin put him instantly under arrest, and made a conquest of the bride.’ ““ Of the Cossacks he seemed to have great horror. He said they had a way of swinging their spears, and thumping the soldiers between the ribs, which took away their breath. D’Embden had twelve wounds, and lost four or five toes in the Moscow retreat, though he did not go higher than Smolensko. After losing many men, he came to Davoust with a report of his loss. ‘ Ne me parlez pas des hommes,’ said Davoust. ‘ Combien de chevaux avez vous perdu?’”’ On the completion of Punch, the subject of the first sight of the sea on the retreat of the Ten Thousand occurred to him and was sketched in. About this time, too, I find the first sketch of a subject which he afterwards repeatedly painted, and with which the name of Haydon is more identified than with any other of his works—I mean Napoleon at St Helena contemplating the setting sun. This first sketch is marred by an allegorical Britannia with her lion, in the clouds, which luckily he did not carry into the picture he afterwards painted of the subject for Sir R. Peel. He now painted, also, a small subject of Lady Macbeth listening on the stairs while the murder of Duncan is being perpetrated. “ December 6ih—It is astonshing how unexcited I am without an important composition. I shall go on with Xenophon to- morrow, or my mind will rot. Pecuniary difficulties bring a train of harassing interruptions which have been fatal to peace and study this week.”’ During the last month of 1829 Haydon succeeded in getting his stepson, Simon Hyman, entered as a midshipman. Here are the maxims for his guidance pasted by his stepfather inside the lid of the youngster’s sea-chest. It is worth noticing how he presses on his observance the rule never to borrow. He had felt in his own case the humiliating and fatal consequences of neglect- ing it. Almost the last words he wrote, before his death, were in solemn reiteration to his children of the same warning. Maxims for Simon Hyman which I pasted on the cover of his trunk. “Remember God is ever present and witness of your actions. ae tes y Therefore always act as if in His presence. “Hold your word as sacred as your oath. He who is ever ready to promise seldom keeps his promise. * The Quarterly Reviewer points out that Haydon had painted the subject before executing the picture for Sir Robert Peel, and that the sight of a small engraving from the picture led to the commission. “* Never 472 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1829 ““Never purchase any enjoyment if it cannot be procured without borrowing of others. “Never borrow money. It is degrading. Remember Lord St Vincent. “I do not say never lend, but never lend if by lending you render yourself unable to pay what you owe; but under any circumstances never borrow. ““ Make no man your friend who is regardless of his word. “Nelson said you must hate a Frenchman. There is no occasion to hate any man; but never treat with a Frenchman till you have beaten him, and then with caution. ““ Consider your life as a trifle, where its sacrifice would honour your King or keep up the character of the navy. ‘“‘ Be obedient to your superiors, and kind to those below you. ‘‘ Aley apioreverv, Always excel. Be this your motto. ‘““Honour, truth, dependence on God, diligence and docility, will carry you through all danger and difficulties. ““Never be ashamed of being ignorant, if you wish to gain knowledge. ““ Piety is not cowardice, nor boasting courage. ““ Vice is not heroism, nor drunkenness virtue. ‘“ Remember a British officer under all circumstances must be a gentleman. This comprises all. Remember this. “Remember also that your father would welcome your dead body if you died in honour, and spit on you living, if you returned in disgrace. “‘ Lay these things to thy heart, and God protect thee. ‘“ London, December, 1829.”’ He closes his Journal for the year with a summary as usual. “January and February I worked little. From March to November I finished Eucles and Punch, and since I have three small pictures nearly ready, though I have not seized all moments of study; this has often proceeded from harass, which has thrown me off my balance. My children are in health. My dearest Mary 1829-30] CRITICISM OF LAWRENCE 473 Mary as lovely and as tender as ever. One of my boys has begun life. God protect him, and make him an honour to the navy. I have reason to hope for the same mercies for the year to come, provided I still struggle (as under God’s blessing) to render myself equally deserving. ‘““O God, on my knees I bless Thee for the mercies of the year past. Still bless me through the ensuing year.”’ 1830 In January of this year Sir Thomas Lawrence died. On the gth I find this criticism of the painter and his works, much of which has already been sanctioned by the soundest judgments in Art: ‘“‘ Lawrence is dead; to portrait-painting a great loss. Cer- tainly there is no man left who thinks it worth while, if he were able, to devote his powers to the elevation of commonplace faces. ‘““ He was suited to the age, and the age to him. He flattered its vanities, pampered its weaknesses, and met its meretricious taste. ““ His men were all gentlemen, with an air of fashion, and the dandyism of high life; his women were delicate, but not modest; beautiful, but not natural. They appear to look that they may be looked at, and to languish for the sake of sympathy. They have not that air of virtue and breeding which ever sat upon the women of Reynolds. ‘““ Reynolds’ women seem as unconscious of their beauty as innocent in thought and pure in expression, as if they shrank even from being painted. ‘They are beings to be met with reverence, and addressed with timidity. To Lawrence’s women, on the contrary, you feel disposed to march up like a dandy, and offer your services, with a cock of your hat, anda ‘ D e, will that- do?’ Whatever characteristics of the lovely sex Lawrence per- petuated, modesty was certainly one he entirely missed. ‘As an artist he will not rank high in the opinion of posterity. He was not ignorant of the figure, but he drew with great in- correctness, because he drew to suit the fashion of the season. If necks were to be long, breasts full, waists small, and toes pointed, Sir Thomas was too well-bred to hesitate. His necks are therefore often hideously long, his waists small, his chests puffed, and his ancles tapered. He had no eye for colour. His tint was opaque, not livid, his cheeks were rouged, his lips like the lips of a lay-figure. There was nothing of the red and white which Nature’s own sweet and cunning hand laid on. His bloom was the bloom of the perfumer. Of composition he knew scarcely 474 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 scarcely anything; and perhaps in the whole circle of Art there never was a more lamentable proof of these deficiencies than in his last portrait of the King. ‘“‘ Twenty years ago his pictures (as Fuseli used to say) were like the scrapings of a tin-shop, full of little sparkling bits of light which destroyed all repose.. But after his visit to Italy the improvement which took place was an honour to his talents. His latter pictures are by far his best. His great excellence was neither colour, drawing, composition, light and shade, nor per- spective, for he was hardly ever above mediocrity in any of these, but expression, both in figure and feature. Perhaps no man that ever lived contrived to catch the fleeting beauties of a face to the exact point, though a little affected, better than Lawrence. The head of Miss Croker is the finest example in the world. He did not keep his sitters unanimated and lifeless, but, by interesting their feelings, he brought out the expression which was excited by the pleasure they felt. ‘* As aman Sir Thomas Lawrence was amiable, kind, generous and forgiving. His manner was elegant, but not high-bred. He had too much the air of always submitting. He had smiled so often and so long, that at last his smile had the appearance of being set in enamel. He indulged the hope of painting history in his day, but, as Romney did, and Chantrey will, he died before he began; and he is another proof, if proof were wanting, that creative genius is not a passive quality that can be laid aside or taken up as it suits the convenience of the possessor. ‘“* How would Raffaele or Michel Angelo have laughed to hear C., L. and R. talk of doing great things, but not till they were rich! ‘* He was not educated, and once gave me a long lecture about the head of Olympias, the mother of Alexander, calling her Olympia. ** The election of Sir Thomas to the chair of the Royal Academy was a blow to High Art it has never recovered, and never will, unless, indeed, this opportunity be seized by the members of the Academy; unless the historical painter, the sculptor, the architect, the low life, or landscape artist make a stand, and bring in, as they ought, some man of genius in some one of these walks, to the exclusion of any portrait painter, whoever he may be. If they do not, they will sign the death-warrant of the Arts in England. ‘* But, alas! in public bodies the majority are too lazy to take an active share; and any chattering, talking person, who can make a plausible speech, however impotent in his art, will in all proba- bility get their suffrages. “ce To 1830] ELECTION OF PRESIDENT OF THE ACADEMY 475 “To think of Shee occupying the throne of Reynolds! ” The election of Sir M. A. Shee as President of the Academy was certain to elicit a burst of bitterness from Haydon. During the preceding year a correspondence had passed between them in which, if Haydon was coarse and offensive, Shee retorted in terms of such contempt as no man can ever forget or forgive. I give Haydon’s remarks on the election, which contain much truth—conveyed, it is true, in the harsh and irritated tone which invests truth with some of the worst features of falsehood—not for the sake of showing the feeling with which he regarded the Academy, which is already evident enough, but rather as an illustration of the way in which prejudice will colour a man’s in- ferences from fact, and an example of how little dependence can be placed on predictions influenced by dislike. How astonished would Haydon have been could it have been foreshown to him that the successor of this obnoxious portrait painter would be that friend and pupil of his own (as he delighted to call him) who now fills the President’s chair in the Royal Academy! How he would have stormed against anyone who had maintained that the tendency of English Art, even at this inauspicious moment, was from portraiture towards subjects, if not historical in Haydon’s sense of the word, still partaking more of the character of history than of portraiture. I extract the following passage because its most acrimonious expressions will, I believe, be read even by the Academicians of the present day without irritation, largely altered as the composition of the Academy has been since the time the entry was written, while there is still much in it which may profitably be laid to heart by artists. It cannot be doubted that if artistic claims be those on which alone should rest the choice of a President of the Academy, Wilkie was the man rather than Shee; but the theory that seemed to Haydon so entirely beyond dispute may, no doubt, be disputed, and on very strong grounds too. A president has ceremonial duties to perform; and erudition, eloquence and personal acceptableness may be quite as important qualifications for the post as skill and success in Art. I offer no opinion of my own on the point, but I cannot help seeing that Haydon’s view is far from incontestable. Nor should it be forgotten, in estimating his opinions, that the public encouragement of Art, which he urged so importunately and so long, had at length been conceded by the Legislature, and that we cannot measure the fruits of that encouragement by the limits within which it has hitherto been confined. With this preface I think there is no reason for withholding Haydon’s comments on the election of a successor to Sir Thomas Lawrence: ¢ F anuary 476 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 ** Fanuary 29th.—In the private history of the Art of the country the last three weeks have been interesting beyond all calculation. Lawrence’s sudden death threw the Academy into the most bitter puzzle; the intrigue, the bustle, the vanity, the nervousness, the fidget and the fear evident among the whole, were beyond expression or description. ‘““T called immediately on Wilkie, and found him quiescently at breakfast. His affected grief for Lawrence, and his sorrow for the loss the art had sustained, were doled forth under an air of conscious power that was amusing. ““In the midst of other conversation I dashed out at once, ‘I hope they will elect you.’ He became agitated, and affected not to hear me; but I saw in the expression of his face enough to convince me that he had no distant hopes. On going upstairs to look at the picture of the King at Holyrood House, I repeated it. He put his hand on my shoulder, as much as to say, ‘ Be quiet.’ ‘Very well,’ said 1; ‘not a word more.’ ‘“‘ All sorts of reports, all sorts of surmises, every species of ‘Hum,’ and ‘ Ha,’ and, ‘ Who d’ye think? ’ went on in the gossip of the art till Lawrence was buried, and the awful time approached. “* On Monday the election took place, and on Monday morning out came in the Gazette, from the Lord Chamberlain’s office, the King’s appointment of Wilkie as his sergeant painter. The moment I read it I said, ‘ This will destroy Wilkie’s chance of success ’; and in the evening the Academicians rushed in as the time approached, with a heat, and fury, and violence and passion, quite a disgrace to the feelings of gentlemen, or even of the lowest members of the lowest clubs. So fearful were they of some message from the King that it would be pleasing to his feelings if Wilkie were elected, that without regular balloting they made every member write down the name of the man he wished; and at each successive knock they ran down, and hurried their friend above stairs, without allowing him to take off his greatcoat. Wilkie had one or two votes—some tell me one, some the other— and Shee eighteen, the announcement of which was received with a hurra! “‘ Wilkie is a man of the greatest genius, and a hatred of superiority had no small share in adding to the apprehension of the Academicians. Wilkie had just that day been appointed the first painter to the King, and this spark was only wanting to explode the magazine. ‘Shee is an Irishman of great plausibility, a speechifying, colloquial, well-informed, pleasant fellow, conscious of no high power in Art, and very envious of those who have. ‘“* Such a man is sure to be popular, and he will be, the most popular PLATE VIII PUNCH, OR May-Day. By B. R. Haypon. From the original painting in the National Gallery, Millbank. MEMOIRG ord oe - 7 a im eae Eh a dy ab Ho aM ie ap eae ele esi “i ad ai eit niigtis _ _ bare 2 . & i. : ilies eal ea ASUS RD six [| yuvqzjtpy ‘haazjvy JoU0IZwAT ayy ut Sutguivd 79U28240 ay7 10444 | TTA ALVTd 1830] ELECTION OF PRESIDENT OF THE ACADEMY 477 popular president that the artists have ever had; but the pre- cedent established, viz. that high talent is not necessary to the highest rank in the art, is one of the most fatal blows ever inflicted on the dignity of the Academy since it has been established, and will lower it in English and continental estimation. Here was David Wilkie, the greatest genius in his walk that ever lived, the only living artist who has a picture in our National Gallery, the only painter who has a great European reputation, honoured by his Sovereign, respected by the nobility, modest, discreet, upright, diligent and highly gifted, from whose existence an epoch in British Art must be dated, to whose works our present high rank is owing in the opinion of Europe—David Wilkie had two votes! And Martin Archer Shee, the most impotent painter in the solar system, a man who for forty years has never painted any human creature without making him stand on his tiptoes from sheer ignorance—in short, the great founder of the tiptoe school—had eighteen! “The present unhappy mistake in the art was predicted forty years ago. Reynolds said a party was gaining ground which would ruin the institution, and he was obliged to resign, finding himself thwarted in everything. West, Opie and Fuseli said the same thing. “* Ah! but Wilkie is a Scotchman, and we shall have nothing but Scotch.’ ‘“‘ Here’s an acknowledgment! What would the world say if Sir Walter Scott had contended for the presidency of literature, and had been denied because he was a Scotchman? “The cause is very simple. Portrait painters have all their wealth and employment from the domestic sympathies of one of the most domestic nations on earth. Against the influence of this important body historical painters have to struggle without employment, without patronage, and in face of prejudices which portrait painters with great art keep up. “There is only one remedy, viz. a moderate annual vote from Parliament, distributed by a committee of the House, which, by placing historical painters on a level with portrait painters, will enable them to hold their ground, and save the art.”’ The concluding passage expresses in brief the doctrine which Haydon was preaching all his life from 1810. It may contain some truth, but it certainly does not explain what it professes to do. Whether portrait painters on the whole earn larger incomes than their fellows in the painters’ calling is matter of dispute. And whatever may have been the case when this was written, it is not true now that portrait painters are dominant in the Academy, or the most highly remunerated class among artists. VOL. II.—31 The 478 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 The painters of landscape and what are called genre pictures stand on a level with them, at least, on these points. But if Haydon’s remark be limited to the painting of large pictures, it is undoubtedly true that for these private galleries in England afford no room, and that public employment alone can provide for High Art on a large scale. Wilkie was now working on his picture of the King at Holyrood, and Haydon thus records a visit to the picture in company with an old courtier and personal friend of the King in the “ salad days ”’ of the Regency. “ February 22nd.—Went in the morning with Sir Thomas Hammond to see Wilkie’s portrait of the King. Sir Thomas Hammond, who had been one of the King’s most intimate friends, found fault, and justly, with the legs and feet, which are really wretched and a disgrace to the picture. He liked the head very much, and it is fine. After we came out Sir Thomas Hammond said to me, ‘'There is no getting on with a Scotchman—there really is not!’ I afterwards dined with him, and spent a very delightful evening: we got into most familiar and confidential conversation about the Court. ‘“* T never knew till last night that the crown at the Coronation was not bought, but borrowed. Rundell’s price was £70,000, and Lord Liverpool told the King he could not sanction such an expenditure. Rundell charged {7000 for the loan, and as some time elapsed before it was decided whether the crown should be bought or not, Rundell charged £3000 or £4000 more for the interval. “Sir Thomas Hammond said, that once after a long absence, when the King, who had sent for him, received him before a brilliant assembly, he put his hand to his mouth sideways, and whispered, ‘Well, damn ye; how are ye?’ and then looked grave before the company. Sir Thomas Hammond complained that the manner of young men and women of fashion was altered. Everything now was slang and impudence, and not elegance and grace, as it was when the Prince was in his prime.’ Young Lord C came in, a fine fellow. What fine, high-minded, brave creatures there are amongst the young nobility! ” Eucles and Punch were now exhibited, and to the painter’s delight an order came to send the latter down to Windsor for the King’s inspection. ‘The picture was dispatched in a flutter of expectation. Much depended on its sale. Haydon’s diffi- culties had accumulated afresh, till the shadow of the King’s Bench was again darkening upon him. On the 6th the picture was sent off. On the 8th it came back unbought. 1’Take the above anecdote as an example !—Ep. ** March 1830] COURT ANECDOTES 479 ** March 8th-—The Punch came back to-day. I called on Seguier in the morning, but I saw by the girl’s face at the door the King had not bought the picture. ‘Few men have courage to say they believe in dreams; last night I dreamt the King told Seguier he did not like the picture, and would not have it. “IT got up this morning greatly distressed in mind about it, and said, ‘ If this prove true, is there not something in dreams? ’ “It has proved true. The King thought there was too much in Punch. He admired the apple-girl excessively, but thought the capering chimney-sweeper too much like an opera dancer! ”’ Now that the publication of confidential memoirs and letters has been sanctioned by so many high examples, I do not feel that the following passage of private history need be withheld: ““ 15th.—Spent the evening with Hammond; a delightful one. He opens his cabinet of past times to me with great confidence. ‘* He said when it was quite uncertain whether Napoleon would or would not make peace at Chatillon, he dined with the Prince of Condé (who was getting quite childish) and the Duchess D’Angouléme. Their anxiety was lest peace should be made. Every horn that blew, the Prince of Condé sent out for the Gazette. Frightened out of his life, he kept saying, ‘Ah, Monsieur le général, la paix est faite—la paix est faite!’ Hammond said he tried to keep their spirits up, but the Duchess kept declaring, ‘Non, non, nous sommes des pauvres misérables—c’en est fait de nous.’ “The next morning he was with the King privately, and they were talking about Napoleon, when Sir Thomas Hammond said, ‘If the fellow does not sign the treaty, it would be no bad time to shove in the Bourbons.’ ‘ Ah,’ said the Prince, ‘ you like them better than I do. Little, I fear, can be done.’ The next day he saw the Prince again, and the Prince said, ‘ ’Gad, Hammond, I have been thinking of what you said, and I’ll see if something can’t be done for them. Say not a word.’ Ham- mond then went down to M‘Mahon, who was writing in his (Hammond’s) room. M‘Mahon went up to the Prince, and shortly after came down, and (as he told Hammond all the state secrets) said, ‘ What do you think? There is the devil to pay upstairs; Lord Liverpool will resign. ‘The Prince says he will restore the Bourbons; Lord Liverpool won’t hear of it.’ At this instant Lord Liverpool crossed the yard in the dumps, and went away. Hammond’s window looked into the yard, and up St Alban’s Street, opposite (before Regent Street was built). Sir Thomas declared solemnly to me this was the beginning of the return of the Bourbons, and the Prince always said ‘ Ham- mond was their best friend.’ ”’ Despite 480 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 Despite of desperate difficulties Haydon had now once more got to work on a historical picture. . “* 20th.—I shall now date my Xenophon, for to-day—God be praised !—I begin, having got a breathing day. I dashed in the effect. My mind teemed with expressions: the enthusiasm of Xenophon cheering on his men, with his helmet towering against a sea-sky; a beautiful woman in her husband’s arms exhausted, hearing the shout of ‘ The sea, the sea!’ languidly smiling and opening her lovely eyes—(good God! What I could do if I were encouraged !)—-a wounded and sick soldier raising his pale head, and waving his thin arm and hand in answer to the cheer of his commander—horses snorting and galloping—soldiers cheering and huzzaing, all struggling to see the welcome sight. [ll read all the retreats; Napoleon’s, Charles XII.’s, Moore’s, Antony’s, etc. etc. God spare my life and eyes; I fear the intrigues of have destroyed all prospects with my King. Id inspire him if I was near him. ‘They all know this, and from him they will keep me. In my Protector I trust. ‘* 26th.—Took down a large canvas, and looked with longing eyes. At last I thought it no harm to draw in Xenophon with chalk. Then a little Vandyke brown would be such a pretty tone, and while I was deliciously abstracted in walked my love and said, ‘Why do you not do it that size?’ ‘Shall I?’ ‘ Yes,’ said she; ‘ I know you are longing.’ I only wanted this hint; so I will risk it at any rate. God bless it—beginning, progression, conclusion. “* o4th.—Worked hard these three days: but for what purpose? To die and leave my children starving, for that will be the end. ** 28th.—Went into my painting-room, and felt my heart swell at the look of Xenophon. An overwhelming whisper of the muse urged me again and again to goon. I set my palette, put on my jacket and after reading prayers to my children completed the rubbing in. Oh! I was happy, deliciously happy. I am just come down from poring over the picture (nine o’clock), with all my old feelings of glory. I have been impelled to do this. God knows how. In Him I trust, as Job trusted, for ever. ‘‘ 29th—I am this moment (half-past eight) come into my painting-room, and the effect of Xenophon is absolutely irre- sistible. Go on I will. “*O God, on my knees I humbly, humbly, humbly pray Thee to enable me to go through it. Let no difficulties obstruct me, no ill-health impede me, and let no sin displease Thee from its commencement to its conclusion. Oh save me from prison, on the confines of which I am hovering. I have no employment, no resources, a large family and no hope. In Thee alone I always trust. Oh, let me not now trust in vain. Grant O God, that 1830] AT WORK ON XENOPHON 481 that the education of my children, my duties to my love and to society, may not be sacrificed in proceeding with this great work (it will be my greatest). Bless its commencement, its progression, its conclusion and its effect, for the sake of the intellectual elevation of my great and glorious country. ““31st—I looked over my picture with longing eyes. Hada half-hour, which I devoted before going to a lawyer for £10, and {£6 expenses. I had £3 and wantedtime. I left my dear picture and saw him. He gave me time, and away I ran with all the freshness of youth to my painting-room. Iam now returned, and after two letters to defer, still 1 hope to complete the rubbing in before dinner. ‘“ Rubbed in the whole picture. “April 4th—Made drawings for Xenophon, but I actually tremble at the thought of concluding it, with my family, and no encouragement. God guide me; for I hesitate; let me recollect Xenophon after the death of Cyrus, and Cortez in South America. “ 6th.—Eucles was raffled for this day. ‘The three highest numbers were 28; Duke of Bedford, Mr Strutt of Derby and Mr Smith of Dulwich. They all three threw again, when Smith threw 28, the Duke 25 and Mr Strutt 17. “ Before the meeting Lord F. L. Gower promised to take the chair, but as the time approached he apologised. “All the people of fashion seemed ashamed to sanction this raffle, as if the necessity reflected on their patronage. A great deal of pretty coquetting passed between us.” Xenophon was now progressing, under the usual difficulties, which I sometimes fear will prove as fatiguing to read of as sadden- ing to record.! The advertisement in the note,’ published about this time, ' At the date of April 13, opens the seventeenth volume of the Journals, with the motto, péya ppovéwy. 2 “* Mr Haydon’s Eucles. As the pledge given at the public meeting, 1827, with respect to Eucles, has been kept satisfactorily to all parties, Mr Haydon takes the liberty of laying before his creditors the correct amount of his receipts and expenses from July 1, 1827, to April 1, 1830, as a great many notions, erroneous and unjust, exist, to his injury, of what he has received and what he must now possess. ** Received from July 1, 1827, to Expenditure in the same time. July 1, 1828. Lo ina Ades s. d. | Restoring Mr Haydon Subscription for Eucles 338 17 0 to his family . : a7 FO Exhibition of Mock Expenses of Mock Election : es Ge 8 Bee © Election exhibition . 270 1 6 Acommission . . 100 0 o | Divds. and debts paid 400 0 o Three portraits . 78 o o | Living, profession, &c. 510 19 10 Sale of Mock Election 525 © o | Advertising Eucles’ BketGh.... % , Mt Ss4e subscription . 7 2i- e 372: 2° 9 iss0 42 refers 482 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 refers to these difficulties, and shows how anxious Haydon was that the public should know his exact position. This fashion of trumpeting his distresses did him infinite mischief, but he could not be persuaded to relinquish it. “ 13th.—Out in the morning on the old story; called on a lawyer, who had orders to proceed; he promised not to do so till he wrote: this was for £19—my coal merchant. Came home very tired; lunched; set to work. Dearest Mary sat, and before dinner I finished the female head in the Xenophon, and was fairly afloat. I first thought of making her languid and exhausted, looking up with feeble joy; afterwards it came into my head to ““ Received from July 1, 1828, to Expenditure in the same time. July 1, 1829. 0 eco@ f; s. d. | Expenses of exhibition Balance from last year 32 10 2 of Chairing . «> 363». yy he Subscription of Eucles 191 3 o | Ditto. of Pharaoh +a oe Exhib. of Chairing Paid Creditors . ~ 134 Oe Mem: . : . 167 8 o | Living, etc. ‘ s Foe leg Exhibition of Pharaoh 61 7 Oo Studies of Mock Election60 o o Sale of Chairing . aa Mee Sale of Sketches OR” Ord 89400 B oe 885 9 6 “Receipts from July 1, 1829, to April 1, 1830.—Sale of Sketch, £25; Napoleon and Uriel, £50; receipts of Eucles’ exhibition, £77, 7s.: total, £152, 7s. ** Expenditure—Eucles’ exhibition, £79, 2s.; law expenses alone, on paltry debts, £67, 1s., independently of maintenance. *“Mr Haydon now hopes that those who, placing their own debts against 500 guineas for Eucles, 500 guineas for Mock Election, £300 for Chairing, believe money still to be in his hands will see how the expenditure is accounted for, and instead of suspecting him of having saved money will perceive that, from mere want of employment, he is verging fast again to unavoidable embarrassment. In short, if his friends, and those who think he is entitled to protection, do not instantly support the scheme for the disposal of Punch before the first day of ‘Term (the 28th), he will be overwhelmed by law, without the possibility of helping it. He appeals to the nobility and to the public whether, if he deserved to be taken from a prison, he has or has not proved since he deserves to be kept from one. He has had his picture of Xenophon nearly a month in his painting-room, and has not been able to apply more than four days from sheer harass, day after day racing the town, assuaging irritability, begging mercy and praying for time. “Subscription to the Punch. ‘At Messrs. Coutts & Co.’s. Lord F. L. Gower . £21.00 J. Godings, Esq. . £10 10 o| Earl Darnley. si tek@ 30248 Hon. G. A. Ellis ogy ierho. | Js Ps Bell. Esa; scotBl ts Oem “His creditors may depend on it that law proceedings will only ruin him, and will obstruct all hope of his paying them.”’ make 1830] ARRESTED AGAIN 483 make her a spirited, fine creature, with eyes sparkling at the sound of the trumpet; in short, such a creature as would follow her lover through peril of land and water. I think I have succeeded. Now I have got both my lay-figures to take out of pawn before I can go on.” To relieve urgent necessity, for what in studio slang is called “pot-boiling,” portraits must occasionally be painted, with whatever loathing. “* 22nd.—Finished a rascally portrait, the last I have got, a poor, pale-faced, skinny creature, who was biting his lips to make them look red, rubbing up his hair and asking me if I did not think he had a goodeye. My picture of Xenophon was put out of the way for the time. I could not help looking at the nape of the heroic neck. I finished on Sunday with the background and trumpets and scenery. My breast swelled, my heart beat, and I nauseated this bit of miserable, feeble humanity! ” But Haydon was compelled to acknowledge, in an entry of this year, that this disgust proceeded as much from dissatisfaction with his own want of success in portraiture as from the nature of the work itself: ‘‘ In spite of my affecting to despise portraits, I am uneasy at my want of success. I went this morning to look at Pickersgill’s, who has more tenderness of execution than any. I was much gratified. He is an old fellow-student, and has a great deal of independence and noble feeling. I respect him excessively. My own portraits looked hard and stiff. ‘There is something in the art I know little of, but I am resolved to know it, and I think the knowledge will give double interest to my historical pictures. ‘The fault I find with his heads is the fault I find with all the English school. They have not the exquisite purity of taste of Vandyke, Reynolds or Titian, but still there is a great deal of knowledge to be gained by studying good English portrait. ; “* May toth.—Harassed out of my life. I want to go through this picture, if possible, without calling my creditors together, but it will be a desperate struggle. The background on Sunday was a vast addition. ‘““15¢h.—An execution put in for £10, 18s. 6d. I had paid £6, 15s. on this £10 before, and now at least £5 will be added. Since September I have paid (with my family expenses too) £93 law costs.” 3 At length comes the catastrophe; he is again arrested! “17th, 18th, 19th.—Harassed, and at last torn from my family _ for £15, 16s. in execution. Ah! what a sight. Mary tried for a long time to encourage me, but at last tears burst forth. ‘ Will you be taken from me?’ ‘Yes, my love.’ ‘ Can’t I influence the 484 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 the man?’ she went on, tears trickling down her cheeks; the man was touched, but could not yield. “‘ T went to a house which looked into a churchyard. What a power for one human being to have over another! ” On the next page (on the fly-leaf torn from a volume of Blair’s Sermons) is a sketch of a fellow-prisoner, a young Russian merchant, ruined, and sleeping, worn out with wretchedness. Amongst other demands on the unhappy painter were con- siderable ones for arrears of taxes, for recovery of which pro- ceedings had already been begun. In his extremity he wrote to Sir Robert Peel, praying his good offices to stay these proceedings. The reply was prompt as kind: ee ‘““ Immediately on the receipt of your letter of yesterday I wrote to Mr Dawson, transmitting that letter to him to be laid before the Lords of the Treasury, and expressing a hope that every indulgence consistent with the public interest might be shown to you under the unfortunate circumstances in which you are placed. ‘““J send you the letter I have just received, and I shall be glad if you are enabled to pursue your professional labours, and if your wife and children can be allowed to remain unmolested. I write in great haste, and “Tam, Sir, your obedient servant, “ROBERT PEEL. ‘““T beg you will send the enclosed note for ten pounds to your wife, as she may be in immediate difficulty.” ‘Whitehall, 29th May. On the letter itself are Haydon’s comments. “ Considering that he went to Windsor and had a long conference with the King, considering, too, the enormous quantity of public business, this hasty snatch of time to alleviate my family’s sorrows is good and feeling. Is this letter a proof of Peel’s frozen heart, as the Radicals call it? ”’ This relief brought a ray of hope. ‘“‘ 29th.—Sir Robert Peel’s kindness has relieved my mind greatly. My miseries have been great indeed, but I feel a light- ness of heart I cannot get rid of, a sort of breaking in of light on my brain, like the influence of a superior spirit. | trust in God, who has supported me so wonderfully, with all my heart. ““O Lord, keep us all in health, and let me be restored to my dear children before their dear mother is confined. Oh, grant me power to accumulate the means of educating my dear children as I have educated my sons-in-law, and grant all these afflictions may tend to the purifying of our natures, and make us worthy Thy protection and reward. Grant that I may live to see the great object of my life—public support to Art—accomplished. I care not 1830] BENCH EXPERIENCES 485 not for living to taste its fruits. I want no reward, no worldly honours. I want to live to establish a principle; grant all my sufferings may tend to its success.” , Haydon by this time had acquired a sort of home-feeling in the King’s Bench. He had old friends, as it were, among the inmates, and took such interest in studying their ways that after changing his quarters from a ground-floor room to one higher up he came down again, that he might be better situated for observation. Here are some of his prison scenes and characters: “ Fune 3rd.—Col. L and Major B (afterwards dis- tinguished in Portugal), both Waterloo heroes, and men of fortune and family, are here. While I was sitting with Col. L. a thorough- bred old soldier came in, every inch of whose head seemed drilled. His nose could belong to no other than an adjutant. We talked of his major, with whom he had served in the roth. ‘ He is in great distress, and to be sure how he used to throw money away! The whole regiment lived on him, and he has spent {150 in a day. When I called the other day, Colonel, he was washing his own handkerchiefs because he could not afford to pay for them.’ Here the old weather-beaten veteran stopped, and seemed choking: tears filled his eyes. Col. L was affected, and so was I. I thought instantly of going and giving a sovereign, though, God knows, I was poor enough. I told Col. L I dreaded B.’s getting into Bench habits. He seemed fast sinking into despair. On the racket-ground at night he, Col. L and I walked and talked. I excited them about Waterloo, and I never passed pleasanter evenings. ‘ D me,’ said Major B , the other night, ‘1 should like to have another shy at them.’ Waterloo heroes absolutely abound here, but L and his friend B are high-bred and accomplished men; the latter became security for his brother, who went to India, and, as a curious bit of retributive justice, Davis, the officer, to whose house I was carried, came to Hounslow to arrest a private. The soldiers enticed him into a room, tossed him in a blanket and afterwards threw him into a pool of filth from the mess kitchen. Who should arrest Major B but this very man, who hurried him at once to the county gaol, and told the keeper he had attempted to run away, and must be handcuffed ! “ Here is still G , the man with a kettle on his head in the Chairing. In all his attitudes of ease and jollity he is a perfect study for Falstaff. I have watched him through the blinds for days. “ Alas, how are the jovial of the once-famous Mock Election fallen! The Lord Mayor is dead, the High Sheriff turned attorney’s clerk, the smuggler, who carried the union jack, has got the gout and C is dying. “Y called 486 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 “TI called on C , and knocked at his door. Nobody answering, I walked in. ‘There he lay on his bed, sound asleep, his grand Satanic head grander than ever; his black matted hair tumbled about his white pillow; his cheeks hollow; his mouth firm, as if half dreaming, while his teeth grated a little. How altered! I stood for a moment too much affected to speak. I folded my arms, and gazed at this grand heroic fellow fast sinking to the grave, this victim of passion and pride. “Would anyone believe that in consequence of the Mock Election the King sent to him by Sir Edward Barnes, and begged him to state his services, and his wishes, and they should be gratified? ‘Too conscious of his fallen state, he never replied. This is just like him. His wounds have opened afresh, and he is bent, crippled and reduced. ‘To-day he dressed himself neatly, put on white gloves, and came over to my side, but did not come in. As I was walking he joined me, with an evident fear in his eye that it was a liberty. I did not like it, I acknowledge, but, poor fellow, who knows his own strength? ‘““'This man was first imprisoned for contempt of court, then ran into debt, then got exasperated; and having no principle of a regulated mind gave way to every passion, as a species of revenge. Alas! like Satan he has brought on his own head double damnation. “TI have not half done justice to this tremendous scene; the pencil alone can do it. ‘“‘ My friends wish me to go into the Rules, but here is a per- petual fund of character that will break into my mind at after periods of life. “This man G is quite enough to prepare me for Falstaff. All the positions, all the actions, of this fat man are one perpetual balancing of one part of his ponderous body against the other, that the whole may stand upright. “A fine subject would be the inside of the Bench, entitled ‘ Profitable Labourers. Adam Smith. ”’ As usual, Haydon found no want of friends in his incarceration. He complains that they were only ready to relieve him when in prison, but that they would not give him ermployment when out. To one who asked him (June 18th) why he did not leave the country, he answers, ‘‘ Why, because I love it. I glory in its beef, its bottom and its boxing. It is the duty of every Englishman of talent to stay and reform, to combat or destroy the prejudices of his obstinate countrymen. ‘Their very virtues become their vices. The same invincible bottom which beat the French at Waterloo induces them to prepare to receive cavalry at every approaching innovation. ‘They look at reform as at a cuirassier. ‘There 1830] ANOTHER PETITION TO THE COMMONS 487 There they stand and bayonet a genius who ventures to tell them they may stand with more grace; and when they have killed him and he shouts to the last, they begin to admire his bottom, bet upon his life and then adopt his plans and reformation. “Thus it is, and thus it ever will be. Mr Fox said it was a long time before truth could sink into the thick skull of John Bull. It may be; but this is no reason we should not keep it there soaking, till it does find its way at last. ‘The English have the finest arms and the broadest chests of any nation in the world, and though by far the least-looking men in Paris of all the Allies, took up more ground than even the gigantic Russian guards. This was entirely owing to the breadth of their shoulders.”’ Meanwhile he prepared another petition to the House of Commons. It was presented by Mr Agar Ellis, who immedi- ately afterwards presented one from St Martin’s-in-the-Fields against the Bill for removing Vagrants, which struck Haydon as “a beautiful combination.” ‘This petition runs: “ That it is now fourteen years since your Honourable House, in the Report on the Elgin Marbles, recommended to the attention of the Government the great distinction to which so small a state as Attica had risen, principally by the public encouragement bestowed by the authorities on painting, sculpture and architecture. That in every country where the arts have risen to eminence, the private patronage of the opulent, and the public patronage of the Government have gone hand in hand. That in England the arts have risen to their present excellence by private patronage alone. That in every branch of Art which depends solely on private support, the greatest excellence has been the result; and the British artist at present, in those branches, stands unrivalled in the world: but that, in that important department, historical painting (to advance which effectually a monarch or a government alone are able), there is still the same want of support or established system of reward, though the Royal Academy has been founded sixty-two years, and the British Gallery twenty-five. That though your Honourable House has most generously afforded the student the most distinguished examples for the improvement of his taste, in the purchase of the Elgin Marbles and Angerstein pictures, yet the attempt of any British artist to approach, however humbly, the great works amongst those splendid pro- ductions, is as much an effort of uncertain speculation and probable ruin as before they were purchased—for no other reason, but from a want of a system of public encouragement, by an annual vote of money, as in France, Germany, Netherlands, Prussia, Russia, Sweden, Denmark and Spain. That, in the late foundation of two Universities in this metropolis, no provision was made for cultivating the taste in Art of the student ; while in France, on the 488 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 the very first plan for establishing a Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, in imitation of one founded in London, the Fine Arts were at once placed with literature and philosophy ; thus affording a most remarkable evidence of the relative estima- tion of Art in the two greatest nations of the world. That your petitioner presumes to think this proceeded not from superiority of taste, but from the superior importance given to the arts in consequence of an annual sum bestowed by the Government for their cultivation, thereby raising their dignity in the opinion of all classes. That, from his own personal experience, your petitioner is entitled to say, that no moderate vote of money would be more popular, with the educated middle classes, than such a vote for such purposes. That your petitioner is even ready with a plan or plans for such a system of reward; and respectfully and humbly begs to assure your Honourable House, that, till the English historical painter is placed on a level with the portrait painter—till he is saved from the struggles of poverty, and degradation and imprisonment are not permitted to be the conclusion of a life of arduous labour and indefatigable anxiety— till, in fact, the Honourable the House of Commons, or the Govern- ment, cease to think his wants not worthy of national considera- tion—the arts of Britain, however high and however perfect may be the productions of a domestic nature, will never rank with those of Italy or Greece, and this glorious country never by foreign nations be estimated as capable of producing painters who will take their station by the side of the poets, the philosophers, the statesmen or the heroes whom she has so prolifically produced. And your petitioner humbly trusts your Honourable House will, at no very distant period, take this beautiful department of Art under your protection ; and, in your wisdom, devise such means for its reward as to your Honourable House may seem fit. And your petitioner will ever pray. “B. R. HAypDon. ‘““ King’s Bench Prison, June 2, 1830.” In presenting the petition Mr Ellis remarked that he believed the petitioner to be a person of great merit in his profession; but anxious as he felt to encourage the Fine Arts, he couid not recommend a grant of money for the purpose. ‘** Anxious as he felt!”’ says Haydon. “ Divine! This is something like Pitt’s anxiety when Lord Elgin applied to him for public aid to make busts and drawings in Athens. Pitt said, anxious as he felt to advance the arts, he could not authorise such a use of the public money; and directly after that spent £300,000 in catamarans to blow up the flotilla at Boulogne. Oh, our public men! our public men! A couple of tutors of painting and sculpture at Oxford and Cambridge would send them into Parliament with juster notions of what was due to the arts and the country.” June 1830] A SUNDAY IN THE BENCH 489 Fune 19th.—Now came the result of his application to Peel: eis “ From a communication I have had from the Treasury I am induced to hope that your wife and family will not be troubled on account of the arrears. of taxes due, and that time would be given you to liquidate those arrears by your own exertions. “Tam, Sir, your obedient servant, “ROBERT PEEL.”’ ‘Kind and good—God bless him. Nothing could be kinder but a good commission, which would put it in my power to pay my arrears.” Here is a Sunday in prison. ‘“‘ 20th.—Passed the day in all the buzz, blasphemy, hum, noise and confusion of a prison. Thoughtless creatures! My room was close to theirs. Such language! Such jokes! Good heavens! I had read prayers to myself in the morning, and prayed with the utmost sincerity for my dearest Mary and children, and to hear those poor fellows, utterly indifferent as it were, was really distressing to one’s feelings. One of them had mixed up an enormous tumbler of mulled wine, crusted with nutmeg, and as it passed round someone hallooed out, ‘Sacrament Sunday, gentlemen!’ Some roared with laughter, some affected to laugh, and he who was drinking pre- tended to sneer; but he was awfully annoyed. And then there was a dead silence, as if the blasphemy had recalled them to their senses. After an occasional joke or so, one, with real feeling, began to hum the tooth Psalm, not in joke, but to expiate his previous conduct, for neither he nor anyone laughed then, but seemed to think it too serious a subject. ““26th—The King died this morning at fifteen minutes past three. “Thus died as thoroughbred an Englishman as ever existed in the country. He admired her sports, gloried in her prejudices, had confidence in her bottom and spirit, and to him, and him alone, is the destruction of Napoleon owing. I have lost in him my sincere admirer; and had not his wishes been per- petually thwarted he would have given me ample and adequate employment. “The people the King liked had all a spice of vice in their nature. This is true. ‘There was a relishing sort of abandon- ment about them which marked them as a peculiar class; and one could judge of the King’s nature by the companions he seemed to like. Hammond is an exception. “Certainly there is an interest about vice, when joined to beauty and grace. ‘The devil makes his instruments interesting. “The account of his death is peculiarly touching. ‘There must 490 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 must be something terrifically awful in the moment, physically considered. His lips grew livid, and he dropped his head on the page’s shoulder, and saying, ‘ T’his 1s death!’ died. Fuly 2nd.—M the gunmaker is in prison too. I met him. He has all the slang of fashion, without the excuse. He said to me, ‘ My schedule was the most beautiful schedule you ever saw, d me.’ Good God, what a state of mind! A gentleman said to me, ‘ When you are in this place, you must get rid of all the finer feelings.’ ‘Pardon me,’ said I; ‘ you must struggle hard to keep them. ‘This is your only salvation.’ “* sth—Dear Frank came. His little face seemed toned by misfortune, as if he had been prematurely thinking about some- thing he could not make out. Sweet fellow! God protect him, and grant him virtue and genius. ““ Orlando, for whose schooling I have been imprisoned twice and arrested once, has won a scholarship at Wadham College, Oxford, at sixteen. ‘There is some pleasure in suffering for a boy like this. He was born April 14th, 1814. ‘* 7th—There was a report last night that Prince Leopold had shot Wellington. It was extraordinary how all were affected. It was as if our shield was taken from us. I awoke in the morning, and felt inclined to curse Leopold. I never saw anything like the general feeling. Notwithstanding all the abuse of Wellington, we could soon see how people would take his sudden death. ** roth.—B dined with me. A fine fellow—a Waterloo hero in the roth—the picture of a fine, open, generous soldier. ‘“‘ 12th.—In a state of torpor, but hoping and trusting in my protector; Lord de Dunstanville sent me assistance. ‘* These young soldiers are fine animals—nothing more. ‘They talk, act and think like colts suddenly gifted with the power of expressing their thoughts. * 16th.—B married a daughter of Lord O ’s, the Ianthe of Byron. Last night I spent an hour with her. Here’s justice! ‘There sat a Waterloo hero covered with wounds, who had been arrested by a rascally tradesman, and had every debt he owed nearly doubled by law expenses, after having paid {1000 to that tradesman. ‘There sat his accomplished and interesting wife. Poor B has the noblest and most amiable heart. Many prisoners he has paid out. They ail come to him when they are in want; some to pay their gate-fees—some for this, and some for that; and here he is, neglected by friends to whom he has lent, and by whom he is now owed thousands, harassed by lawyers, and each creditor and his solicitor (because B has friends) pushing their expenses to the utmost, for the sake of profiting by his troubles. * 19th. 1830] OUT OF PRISON 4gI “* 19th.—Again put on my trial, and again honourably acquitted. At the conclusion the Chief Commissioner said, ‘ There has nothing passed this day which can reflect in the slightest degree on your character.’ “Throughout the whole of this affliction God has indeed been merciful. “ 20th.—Returned to my family, and found all the children with their dear mother quite well, and happy to see me. I fell on my knees and thanked God with all my heart and all my soul. Now to work like a lion after a fast as soon as I am settled. “ 21st.—Passed the day in a dull stupor, as if recovering from a blow. Studied the Xenophon, but quite abroad. The same number of the Times contains a powerful attack on the Academy —Kean’s farewell—my insolvency, and the King’s funeral. “A true picture of life. If the Times takes up the art the thing will be done. “ 22nd.—Saw the King review the Lancers in the Green Park. He looked well. Called on Sir Robert Peel and Lord Stafford. After coming from prison the splendour of their residences amazingly impressed my imagination. The regiment of Lancers was the same of which was major. He saw Napoleon at St Helena, and had previously known Gourgaud. Gourgaud wrote his name in ’s pocket-book. When at St Helena he showed it to Bertrand, who understood the hint. Letters were directly got ready. Lowe suspected it—invited him to dine, and searched his trunks. said his shirts had all been tumbled about. gave the letters to a lady, who sewed them in her stays. ‘They succeeded in bringing them over, and went to Paris and delivered them. ‘They were of the greatest con- sequence. When Lord B , from parliamentary influence, was promoted to the colonelcy of the Lancers, called on the Duke, told him he was covered with wounds, and had served in the Peninsular War. ‘The Duke said, ‘ Well, sir, you did no more than your duty, I suppose.’ ‘ Perhaps not,’ said ; ‘and I’ll take d d good care not to do that again,’ and the next morning sent in his resignation, which was refused. “It affected me to see this gallant regiment to-day, which he had disciplined, while he himself was in prison, disgraced—at the mercy of tailors and lawyers, villains without heart, who make use of the law of arrest as a means of profit. “ 27th—My worthy landlord, Newton, gave me a commission to finish Mercury and Argus for twenty guineas. So I am set off. Darling gave me a commission to paint a head for ten guineas. Qh, if I can keep out of debt and carry my great object! “ 31st.—Occupied in various ways, but recovered my spirits and 492 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 and health. My grocer gave me a commission to paint his por- trait. I could be very moralising at the end of this month, but I am overstrained.”’ This was the time of the glorious Three Days in Paris. Haydon was certainly not open to the reproach often urged against artists of indifference to public events. Many pages of his Journal are filled with reflections on what was passing across the Channel, of which the following may serve as an example: ** August 3rd.—The great thing will be to take care that fellow Metternich does not render nugatory this glorious popular burst, by tampering, by negotiation or by artifice; and let the French depend on it, he will attempt it. “With respect to any apprehensions the people of Europe may entertain that the monarchs will assemble to put the French people down, it is futile. They can’t do it if they would. The very same reason which enabled the monarchs to put down Napoleon, because the people were roused to back the monarchs, will enable the French now to resist the monarchs of Europe; and if the monarchs of Europe are led astray by the supposition that the French people were conquered in 1815, and that they can be conquered again, they will find their mistake. “The French people were not conquered. It was Napoleon and the army who were conquered. ‘The people never moved. Had they done so, the Allies would have had a very different result of their efforts. The people were utterly indifferent to the fate of the army or of Napoleon. ‘They had suffered so much from both; and they submitted with a wary patience to the dictation of the Allies. “The only thing to apprehend is, that their inherent national vanity will lead them astray, and induce them to attempt to disturb Europe again for the mere purpose of recovering their tarnished military glory. “If they are too much puffed with the result of this attempt they should recollect that both the guards and the line did not exert themselves to the full extent of their power. There was something indecisive—something of feeling for the people they were killing—something of that doubt which always attends a bad cause. ** Politics are not my profession; but still, in such days, when there is evidently a struggle bursting forth for human rights, no man can be indifferent; and I conclude as I began, by affirming, without fear of refutation, that no nation will ever secure their liberty who do not begin, as we began, by first shaking off the overwhelming pressure of superstition. ‘Till they do, the en- lightened may lay down schemes of right and law and justice, but 1830] FRENCH REVOLUTION OF JULY 493 but they will never be permanent—never—and the battle will ever be to fight, when it will appear to have been long won. “ 8th.—Walked to Hampstead with dear Frank, and enjoyed the air and sweet-scented meadows. Thought of the poor prisoners in the Bench, B and others, who would have relished this sweet smell. The thought of what I have seen, and what I have suffered, always gives a touch of melancholy to my enjoyments. “The recollection of these three days haunts me like Waterloo. The same enthusiasts who would have made us succumb to Napoleon are beginning again with their admonitions. ““ 1oth.—Thank God, the French have settled their govern- ment and the Duke of Orleans is king. What a great point for liberty over the whole earth! ““ How discreet, how active, how judicious are the French become! How useful is adversity. At their first revolution they acted like a set of monsters just escaped from a long slavery, who had got hold of razors, and were exasperated at seeing the marks of chains on their limbs. Now they have acted like just men, enraged at the prospect of losing their rights, and mag- nanimously merciful as soon as they have obtained them. Still I fear their character. Nous verrons. ““ r1th.—I hope the fools here won’t overdo their joy. They should remember we can obtain our wished-for reforms by law; and though we may be longer, it is better to be so. The firmness of the English character is such that if soldiers and people get to loggerheads, no matter for what cause, they will fight till both are exterminated. “T hope Mr Hobhouse will allow that if his darling Napoleon had been victorious at Waterloo the present happy prospects of France would never have been realised. Wellington, therefore, contributed, by the destruction of Napoleon, to this desired event. I pity the Duchess d’Angouléme. Wilkie and I saw her in 1814 at chapel—the picture of crying sorrow, humbleness, absence of mind and meekness of appearance. ‘The Duke was the meanest of the mean. I wondered then how such a people as the French could bear such wretches as the Bourbons looked, with the exception of Louis, who had a keen black eye, and appeared intellectual. “* All the old officers with crosses of St Louis were a diminutive, mean race, in comparison with the produce of the Revolution. While Louis was praying I stood observing them, when an old bigot of an officer, on his knees, struck mine twice, and said, ‘A bas, a bas, Monsieur.’ ‘“ 12th.—Everything goes on in France as it ought to do, and VOL. II.—32 I hope 494 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 I hope willend so. But as to attributing it to the pure love of the French for liberty—nonsense! “‘ The principal feeling was mortification, increasing for fifteen years, at having the family forced on them. “I only hope the French will not exasperate the English by attributing the English subscriptions to the widows to our appre- hension of their power. God knows: such is their vanity. However, they have been well bled and blistered, and are certainly improved.” This month, too, brought another mouth to feed. “* t9th.—At half-past five in the morning was born a fine boy, whom I think I shall call Benjamin Robert Haydon. God protect him and his dear mother. “* As a proof of Shakespeare’s intense truth, while dearest Mary was lying in agony, Darling sitting quietly waiting, and I with my head in my hands listening to her moans, little Frank, who was soundly sleeping just by, laughed in a dream. “There was one did laugh in his sleep, and one cried murder ’; says Shakespeare in Macbeth. “This has been ridiculed as too violent a contrast; as if it was unnatural to bring in a dreamer laughing at the instant a murder was being committed, while here was a dreamer laughing at the very instant agonies of the bitterest description were going forward.” He had now on hand an engraving from his small picture, painted the year before, of Napoleon musing at St Helena. “* 28th.—Out the whole day on business connected with the print of Napoleon. I saw Beauvinet, the publisher, who had a tricoloured ribbon in his button-hole. ‘There is a look about the French which is insufferable. While I was talking I felt my blood boil up, I could not tell why. Wait a little—till they get settled—till they are acknowledged by Europe—and if the great nations be not forced to divide them before 100 years are over, I am no politician. They be at peace! Absurd. They can’t be quiet. ‘They never will; and soon we shall hear of the Rhine and Belgium being the natural boundaries of France. ** 30th.—Out all day about my print. What a bore business is. I wonder, too, men of business ever come to a conclusion. The chicanery, the selfishness, the petty, paltry meanness of their mutual attempts to overreach each other, is enough to drive a man out of his senses. ? “Think of coming from the sublime conception of my head of Lazarus to bargain about a print with a French dealer—100 ounces of civet! “* September 3rd.—I sentjthe Duke the first proof of Neve an 1830] A PORTRAIT-PAINTER’S BILL 495 and though occupied, as he must be, with the affairs of Europe at this moment, he returned an answer directly: ‘““ London, September 2, 1830. “The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Haydon. “The Duke begs leave to return his thanks to Mr Haydon for his letter, and for sending to the Duke a print.”’ His friend Dr Darling was now sitting to him for his portrait. “* 4th_—Hard at work, and made a complete study of Darling’s head, which is a very fine one. [am interested, and will struggle hard to succeed. “6th.—At work—painting one coat, one waistcoat, one cravat, etc. “‘ 7th—A portrait painter should make out his bill— “To two eyes at 10 guineas each. ; wnf2t a nose two lips (red, etc. ) two cheeks (fine complexion, etc. ) lobe of the ear. HO OWN Hon AN O ©0090 ©© «© So Bet OD To one cravat Pr po half a coat ti hie one finger . t.< J 0 To a white cloud, table ‘and back of chair and curtain . ‘ ’ : ’ : ‘ 5; 57 © 48 5 Oo To altering mouth to a smile, and browning Bry. hair : . : ; , ; T 15°70 £50 0 O “* toth.—Began again Xenophon on the saleable size of Eucles. I could not bear to look at the two. If they had not put me in prison I should nearly have done it the size of life. April, May, June, July, August, all fine months for working and light. I have now September, October, November, December, January, February, March. “16th.—At work on my portrait, but alas, I really lose all inspiration—I can’t tell why. A leaden demon seems to weigh on my pencil; and it is a pang to think my Xenophon was behind, and would any man believe, I often scrawled about my brush, and did nothing, while I was studying Xenophon through the openings of my easel. ** T shall 496 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 “‘T shall certainly be very eminent as a portrait painter, not a doubt of it! ““ I yesterday, after a long absence, came in contact with the Last Judgment of Michel Angelo; perhaps I was better qualified to judge than if I had had it constantly under my eye. “The swinging fierceness of action was astonishing, but I prefer the Theseus, and Ilissus, and fighting Metope. ‘The style is Florentine—grand, flowing, ponderous, imposing, sledge- hammering, blackguard. “* October 2nd.—Out the whole day on business. Heard from Lady Stafford, who kindly interested herself in getting Lord Stafford to assist me with {50 to get my eldest stepson matricu- lated at Oxford, for which I am to paint a picture. It is very good and kind of Lord Stafford. “* 2th.—I wrote the Duke, calling his attention to the report of Guizot, who had recommended the King to employ the historical painters to commemorate the late events. I con- trasted the condition of the art here. I said that my Jerusalem, which his Grace had admired, was in a cellar; that Etty’s picture was in a shop; and that Hilton had had no employment two years. I asked his Grace if he would suffer England to be inferior to France. Isent my letter at nine in the morning to-day; at two came the following answer: *“ London, October r2th, 1830. oat, ‘* T have received your letter. “It is certainly true that the British public give but little encouragement to the art of historical painting. The reason is obvious. There are no funds at the disposal of the Crown or its ministers that are not voted by parliament upon estimates, and applied strictly to the purposes for which such funds are voted. ‘No minister could go to parliament with a proposition for a vote for a picture to be painted, and there can be therefore no such encouragement here as there is in other countries for this art. ‘““T am much concerned that I cannot point out the mode in which this want of encouragement can be remedied. ‘* T have the honour to be, ‘“‘ Sir, your most obedient humble servant, ““ WELLINGTON.” ‘I cannot say his Grace’s reasoning is conclusive. I shall answer it. Canning shirked the question. Wellington has grappled with it, but I think it will give him a squeeze.” Here is a sad letter: “ 14th.—This perpetual pauperism will in the end destroy my mind, I look round for help with a feeling of despair that is quite dreadful. 1830] CORRESPONDENCE WITH WELLINGTON 497 dreadful. At this moment I have a sick house without a shilling for the common necessaries of life. This is no exaggeration. Indulged by my landlord, indulged by the Lords of the Treasury for my taxes, my want of employment and want of means exhaust the patience of my dearest friends, and give me a feeling as if I were branded with a curse. For God’s sake, for the sake of my family, for the sake of the art I have struggled to save, permit me, my Lord Duke, tosay, employ me. I will honour your patronage with all my heart and all my soul ! ”’ (No answer.) And asad sequel. “‘15¢h.—The harassings of a family are really dreadful. ‘Two of my children are ill. Mary is nursing. All night she was attending the sick, and hushing the suckling, with a consciousness that our last shilling was then going. I got upin the morning bewildered—Xenophon hardly touched—no money— butcher impudent—tradesmen all insulting. I took up my book of private sketches, and two prints of Napoleon, and walked into the city. Moon and Boys had sold all. This was good news to begin with. Hughes, Kearsey’s partner, advanced me five guineas on the sketch-book. Isold my other prints, and returned home happy with £8, 4s. in my pocket. “How different a man feels with money in his pocket. I bought for sixpence a cast for the children. “I met a man of {40,000 at Kearsey’s. He talked of Virgil and Art. J was in no spirits to answer him. I thought of my dear Mary at home, harassed, surrounded by little children, some ill, all worretting.” In the meantime he had again written to the Duke in the old strain, on the old subject, urging the proposal of a grant of public money for the encouragement of Art. The answer came, prompt and decisive as ever: “The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Haydon, and has received his letter of the 14th. “The Duke is convinced that Mr Haydon’s own good sense will point out to him the impossibility of doing what he suggests.”’ “ Conclusion for the season! “Impossibility, from Wellington’s mouth, must be impossi- bility indeed. He can’t answer my letter. It is evident, he is worried about finance. At any rate it is a high honour to hear from him in this way. And his letters this time show more thinking on the subject than the last. At it again at a future time. “ 25th.—Out, selling my prints. Sold enough for maintenance for the week. Several people looked hard at me with my roll of prints, 498 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 prints, but I feel more ashamed in borrowing money than in honestly thus selling my labours. It is a pity the nobility drive me to this by their neglect. “* 26th.—Hard at work; rubbed in Lord Stafford’s picture— Venus and Anchises quarrelling. “ 27th.—Hard at work. Gave instructions to a young writing- master in painting at ros. 6d. a lesson. I painted in a head in black and white for him. Showed him how to mass his lights and shadows, and then put in his extreme dark and lights, at which he was enraptured; said ‘ scales had fallen from his eyes.’ He lamented his incapacity to pay more than ros. 6d. “* 29th.—Provided shoes for my dear Mary, and a dinner for my family. What an extraordinary, invisible sort of stirring is the impulse of genius. You first feel uneasy, you cannot tell why. You look at your picture, and think it will not do. You walk for air—your picture haunts you. You cannot sleep; up you get in a fever, when all of a sudden a great flash comes inside your head, as if a powder-magazine had exploded without any noise. ‘Then come ideas by millions; the difficulty is to choose. Xenophon cheering on the point of a rock came flashing into my head. It is a hit. Everybody says it will do. I am sure of it. The world will echo it. It is the finest conception I ever saw. I speak as my own critic. I know it is wrong to say so. I care not. O God! grant me life and health to complete this grand work! ““ How mysteriously I was impelled to begin it—by an urging when on the brink of ruin. Am I then reserved for something? I know it—I feel it. O God! my Creator, Thou knowest it. Thou knowest I shall not die till 1 have accomplished that for which I was born! ‘““ November 1st—Out selling prints. Brought home £4,'838: 0d. ““ 2nd.—Out selling prints. Brought home £3. The whole of the first impression is gone. “We still have justice here. Everything for which I used to despise mankind I have been obliged to do. I used to despise Wilkie for taking about his prints, as if it was not honester and infinitely more respectable than borrowing money without a certainty of paying it again. ‘* Alas! I was imperfectly brought up.” All readers will remember the anxiety that prevailed this year about the Sovereign’s visit to the city, and the speculations that were rife as to the wisdom or unwisdom of its being put off. The following extract may throw some light upon the sort of fears that influence ministers. ‘The information referred to was given on the 8th: “TOU, 1830] WARNING WELLINGTON 499 ‘‘ toth—The following is a curious letter. My servant said her father knew the ringleader of a gang who were determined to attack the Duke. I wrote the Duke immediately and received an instant answer. I was not going to turn informer until I had more positive evidence, or involve a poor man in trouble on mere tpse dixit. J examined the girl, and she denied it, but this would not do. I sent for her father, and he promised to come, but he never came, and it turned out her mother had scolded her for saying anything about it. I have no doubt of it myself. My object was to set his Grace on his guard, and if anything more palpable had come out I would have remitted the name and address. I am perfectly convinced that had the King gone to the city most dreadful scenes would have happened, and then what an outcry against ministers for not preventing His Majesty. ‘““ A Whig said to me, ‘ Grey is coming in.’ ‘ Is he?’ said I. ‘When I see Wellington out, I’ll believe it.’ Ah, little do they think what is hid beneath that simple face! “«The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Haydon and has received his note of this morning, for which he is very much obliged to him. “The Duke requests that Mr Haydon will be so kind as to call upon Mr Phillips, the Under-Secretary of State at the Home Office, and state to him in detail the circumstances to which he adverts in his note to the Duke, the names of the persons who are determined to attack him, etc. etc. “© London, November 8th, 1830.’ ”’ On the 3rd Haydon had written to the Directors of the British Gallery. It must have been pressing necessity indeed which wrung this letter from a high-spirited man: ‘“Mr Haydon presents his respects to the noblemen and gentle- men who compose the Committee at the British Gallery, and begs to appeal to them in his present struggling condition, with eight children, and nothing on earth left him in property but what he is clothed with, after twenty-six years of intense and ardent devotion to painting, after leaving a capital property and hand- some income from pure devotion to historical Art. ‘““Mr Haydon is well aware that more discretion in his early life would probably have placed him in a very different condition, and had he borne what he conceived injustice on the part of the Royal Academy with more temper such bitter ruin as he has been afflicted with would certainly never have happened, but still he was never actuated by any mean motive: his love of Art more than a just regard for his own personal interest he can con- scientiously affirm was his great inducement. ‘Perhaps the Directors of the British Gallery will not think too 500 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 too severely of his endeavouring by an appeal to their feelings to avert further calamities from his family. “The kindness of Lord Stafford in lately giving him a small commission has saved them from wanting the commonest necessaries ; and if the Committee would aid him by a moderate, though not unimportant, sum to finish his Xenophon, it would perhaps enable him to keep out of debt for the rest of his life. Should the Committee feel sufficient interest to receive any pleasure from seeing the picture, Mr Haydon need not say how honoured he should be to show it them before they decide whether, for the purpose of considering it, they should think him entitled to assistance. Out of the £14,000 given by the Gallery Mr Haydon has never had but £200, and out of the £75,000 spent in sales only £60. Mr Haydon is quite aware this is no one’s fault but his own ; yet he cannot help asking in conclusion, whether the Committee think, should they even honour him by a commission, he is likely now to fail, when through life he has ever exerted himself to the utmost when such a distinction has been conferred. ‘““Mr Haydon anxiously apologises for this intrusion, and hopes he may be so happy as to receive an answer which may reanimate his labours.”’ On the r1th came the answer—such an answer as such a letter was likeliest to produce: ‘‘ British Institution, November 11, 1830. * Sir, ‘‘T am desired by the Directors of the British Institution to inform you that your letter of the 3rd instant has been this day laid before them, and further to add that the only way in which they can entertain the subject of it is by requesting your accept- ance of £50, a draft for which I have now the honour to enclose. ‘“‘T beg you to believe me, Sir, “ Most faithfully your obedient servant, ““ CHARLES BELOE, ““ Secretary.” The days were gone by in which he would have spurned this alms, and the {£50 was accepted with thanks for the kindness of the Directors. “* 13th.—I called on Lord Farnborough. He was grown old. The interview was interesting. He seemed ashamed of the £50. He talked of Lawrence. He said his family would have nothing but the £3000, the result of his exhibition. He wondered how it was. I told him the moment I got into trouble I met Lawrence in all quarters, at which he drew his hand across his face, as if shocked at my frankness in talking so of a President. But I was determined to let him know I was aware of Sir Thomas’s con- dition, and would not be considered the only embarrassed gentleman in the art.” Now 1830] FALL OF TORY MINISTRY 501 Now came what but ten days before seemed so improbable— the downfall of the Wellington administration, and the advent of Lord Grey to power. Haydon remarks on these great changes: “18th.—Wellington is out! Thus ends that immortal Tory ministry, whose energy and true English feeling carried them through the most tremendous contest that ever nation was engaged in. The military vigour, the despotic feeling, en- gendered by twenty-five years of furious war, rendered them unfit, perhaps, to guide the domestic policy of the country; and though the Whigs would have sacrificed the honour and grandeur of Old England, for the sake of advancing the abstract principles of the French Revolution, and consequently were very unfit for the war with Napoleon, now that the danger is over, they are perhaps more adapted to carry the country through its present crisis. God grant they may. ““22nd.—The Whigs have come in at a tremendous crisis. God grant they may be equal to the opportunity. If they rise in proportion to the tide they will prove a blessing to the world. I dread their inexperience in office. “‘ 24th.—But after all inexperience is soon got rid of. The mighty principle is the thing. The Holy Alliance is dashed to atoms for ever—that incubus on independent impulse. “ 25th.—Called to congratulate Lord Brougham. ““T sent in my card and begged one minute. The servant came out and said, ‘My Lord’s compliments; he can’t.’ As the door opened I heard the buzz of a secretary. ‘The servant, who knew me, looked arch as he said ‘ My Lord.’ “And now Brougham has the power we shall see if the Whigs do anything for Art!” In December of this year happened an event which caused Haydon both pride and satisfaction. Sir Robert Peel gave him a commission for a picture of Napoleon at St Helena (the subject he had already painted in cabinet size the year before), nay more, called on Haydon and received a lecture on Art. ‘ 8th.—Sir Robert Peel called, and gave me a commission to paint Napoleon musing, the size of life. “ He liked the Xenophon much. He seemed greatly interested. I asked him to walk into my plaster-room. He mistook the Ilissus for the Theseus, and asked if the fragment of the Neptune’s breast was the Torso. ‘““ Now had I been lecturer on Art at Oxford when he was a student, he, Sir Robert, as a minister of England, should not have mistaken a fragment of the Elgin Marbles for the Torso of Apollonius. ‘““He seemed very desirous of information, and asked it candidly, 502 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830 candidly, but the state of his information was evidence how Lawrence must have laughed in his sleeve, and flattered his ignorance, to get at his money. I will not do this. “It is a great point his giving me such a commission, and his calling. He said, ‘There is a great opening for a portrait painter.’ ‘ Yes,’ I replied; ‘but I fear Lawrence’s power of seizing and transferring the most beautiful expressions of people’s faces is likely to be unrivalled.’ He replied, ‘ What do you mean?’ I explained, and added, that Lady Peel and Miss Croker were the finest instances of female expression in different ways in Art. “‘T hope this visit will lead to good. So great a friend as he is of the Academy would hardiy take such a step without some ultimate desire to do me good, or to ascertain whether I merit the obloquy I have met with. My keeping my word to him to pay up my taxes has had no bad effect. ‘This commission will be an interruption. Sir Robert Peel asked me what I had for whole lengths: I said what was true, 100 guineas. I ought to have said 200, but roo was the truth. (It was wrong! of him to take advantage of this, and pay me 100 guineas only, as if Napoleon was a common whole length. Thirty he sent afterwards.) ! ‘‘gth.—The interview yesterday only convinces me of the necessity of lectures at Oxford, and that such a system is the only chance for the art and manufactures of the country. At the same time Peel showed fine natural taste. He said, ‘Do the Elgin Marbles deserve all that has been said of them?’ ‘ More if possible.’ ‘Why?’ ‘I will tell you. These two legs and thighs illustrate all. The foot of No. 1 is turned out, that of No. 2 is turned in. "These two actions of the foot make all the difference of marking in the respective legs and thighs.’ ‘IT showed him another foot. ‘ You can see at once,’ said he, ‘the decided superiority. What beauty!’ “This was genuine, because on showing him the Venus he thought the instep fat. I showed him the roll of skin under Neptune’s armpit, and proved to him that the union of the accidents of nature with ideal beauty was the great principle of Phidias, which all subsequent ages lost sight of in search of a higher ideal beauty, and made life no longer visible. ‘‘ He saw this at once, and I will venture to say I did him more good in ten minutes than ever Lawrence did in ten years. 1 Haydon was ill-judging enough to make subsequent allusions to this in letters to Sir Robert Peel, and even to make a demand of a higher price. Sir Robert Peel was naturally annoyed at this after the inquiry and answer given here. And Haydon himself, when the sting of necessity was not goading him, admitted the folly of his conduct in this particular. —Eb. “< “gui, 1830] SIR ROBERT PEEL’S COMMISSION 503 “* r1th._—Out the whole day making studies for Napoleon’s hat, with as much care as I would for the anatomical construction of alimb. I know it now as well. ‘The hat fitted me exactly, and my skull is, like Napoleon’s, twenty-two inches in circumference. There was something terrific about its look, and it excited associa- tions as powerful as the helmet of Alexander! “* 16th.—Began Napoleon for Sir Robert Peel. God bless its commencement, progression and conclusion. ““ 17th—Called on Sir Robert Peel, who introduced me to Lady Peel, and treated me with the greatest kindness. I do not wonder at Sir George saying to me once, ‘ What a day we passed yesterday at Peel’s! Such a wife, such children, such a dinner and such pictures!’ Egad, I agree with him. His collection is quite exquisite—the rarest specimens of Dutch and Flemish power. He is a fine creature. His conduct on the Catholic question was a Roman sacrifice of feeling. “ 18th.—Moderately at work. Wrote Sir Robert Peel, stating my wish to devote myself to Napoleon, and saying it was im- possible unless he aided me by some portion in advance. God knows if this may offend him or not. I hope not; but the sure way to get on with people of fashion is never to ask them for money. However, as Sir Robert sent to me in prison, he will not be angry at my request. “* Whitehall, Dec. 18th. va Sir; “*T enclose, in pursuance with your request, a draft for thirty guineas on account of the picture which you are painting forme. JI meant to have offered it to you, and, therefore, need not assure you that I cannot be in the least degree displeased by the application. ““T am, sir, your faithful servant, “* ROBERT PEEL.’ “‘ T wrote the Duke for leave to sketch some part of Napoleon’s dress from one of his pictures. Here is his answer: ““The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Haydon, and has received his note. ‘“ “The Duke has four pictures of Napoleon in different costumes. On his return to town he will desire that they may be brought together, and prepared for Mr Haydon’s inspection. ““* Winchester, Dec. 23rd, 1830.’ “Read Moore’s second volume! with such intensity I forgot the last day of the year, a thing I never did before in my life. “The year is ended, but it is too late now to philosophise. 1 Of Byron’s Life and Journals. “Tam 504 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1830-31 ‘““ I am convinced Byron’s Italian excesses were not from love of vice, but experiments for a new sensation, on which to speculate. After debauchery he hurried away in his gondola, and spent the night on the waters. ““On board a Greek ship, when touching a yataghan, he was overheard to say, ‘I should like to know the feelings of a murderer.’ “This contains the essence of his moral character; and his assertion that he relished nothing in poetry not founded on fact, that of his poetical. ‘“‘ For the great mercies of the year past, O Lord, accept my deep gratitude; for the corrections, deep submission to Thy sacred will. Amen.” And so ends the Journal for 1830. 1831 Haydon opened this year in diligent application to the large picture of Napoleon for Sir Robert Peel, though with some despondency at first. ** Fanuary 29th.—All passed since the 11th in a fit of ennui and self-reproach, which my misfortunes and the remembrance of them sometimes generate. I struggle and vanquish my despond- ency, but in spite of all, these fits hold dominion now and then for the time. By God’s help I will get out, the cloud will pass and a successful day’s hit will soon restore my faculties. “ February 5th.—\ am like Wellington’s soldiers, who, after a hard campaign, got ill the moment they moved into winter- quarters. The moment that from any cause I leave off hard work my fibres seem to relax, and I get ill malgré mot. “Thomas Hope is dead, my early patron, and the purchaser of my first picture; a good but capricious man. He objected to my painting Solomon the size of life, though he had given a French painter 800 guineas just before for Damocles, full size. He got offended, yet when I was ill he sent me £200 in the noblest manner, and insisted I should not consider it as a debt. ‘ 6th.—I dreamt Napoleon appeared to me and presented me with a golden key. ‘This was about a month since. It is curious. I have lately had singular dreams: as Achilles says, the shades of our friends must be permitted to visit us. ““ Miss Edgeworth called with Mrs Lockhart. There was great simplicity and sense in Miss Edgeworth. Mrs Lockhart is a Miranda in nature. ** 8th.—Succeeded at last in getting Napoleon firm on his legs. Strange I did it at once in the small sketch, and missed it when meaning 1831] DREAMS 505 meaning to be very grand in the large picture. Dreamt Michel Angelo came to me last night in my painting-room. I talked to him, and he shook hands with me. I took him to the small medallion over my chimney-piece, and said, ‘ It’s very like, but I do not think your nose so much broken as I had imagined.’ I thought it strange in my dream. I could not make it out how he came there. He had a brown coat and complexion. I cer- tainly think something grand in my destiny is coming on, for all the spirits of the illustrious dead are hovering about me. ‘““ I dreamt the other night I crept through a window into the Capella Sistina, and thought the power in the Prophets terrific. I saw a hand of Jeremiah modelled with touches which I shall never forget. No man, I thought, has been worse en- graved. ‘““ My eyes and health are recovered. I burn in my feelings with some undefined anxiousness of expectation, ‘some unborn greatness in the womb of time,’ which I can’t describe, but I seem as if I was seized with supernatural communication, and start up in solitude. I expect a ‘diva facies’ or a smiling angel beckoning and pointing. ‘““gth.—In my painting-room from a quarter-past eight till four incessantly glazing; it is the most nervous operation in the art. ‘The sky is not what I imagine it ought to be. ‘Titian would have gone solidly through it as I did first; no modern scrambling and tricks, but a manly, fair, masterly, solid painting, and then skilful, flat, concealed glazing. ‘* roth.—Strained exceedingly in my feelings. Wound up the sky and sea. The sea I am proud of, not the sky yet. “Sir Robert was to have called, but did not. One hundred guineas is all I asked, but it is too little. I meant that was my price for a whole length. ““ West told me he never knew what it was to have a head or stomach. I should think so from his colour and expression. They were all by a man who had neither head, stomach nor heart. ‘ t4th.—Out all day about money and rooms. I called on Sir Robert Peel. I found him sitting in his magnificent library reading, and very pale. He seemed harassed. He promised to call to see his picture. In the afternoon he called, and was much pleased. I showed him all my studies from the Elgin Marbles. I explained their principles, and what gave them their superiority. He listened with great attention. I hope I have done his mind good. But he had a cowed air. Why I know not. Politically he is, I dare say, harassed about this Reform Bill, and his party perhaps wanting him to take the lead, and he is really unwilling 506 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1831 unwilling to leave the sweets of private life for the turbulence and harass of a public situation. “What would I not give for such a library! Sir Robert Peel is a most amiable man, very sincere, diffident and nervous.” Haydon, as usual, furnished a description of the picture when exhibited, from which I extract the passage which follows: ““ Napoleon was peculiarly alive to poetical association as pro- duced by scenery or sound ; village bells with their echoing ding, dong, dang, now bursting full on the ear, now dying in the wind, affected him as they affect everybody alive to natural impressions, and on the eve of all his great battles you find him stealing away in the dead of the night, between the two hosts, and indulging in every species of poetical reverie. ‘“‘ It was impossible to think of such a genius in captivity, with- out mysterious associations of the sky, the sea, the rock and the solitude with which he was enveloped : I never imagined him but as if musing at dawn, or melancholy at sunset, listening at mid- night to the beating and roaring of the Atlantic, or meditating as the stars gazed and the moon shone on him : in short, Napoleon never appeared to me but at those seasons of silence and twilight when nature seems to sympathise with the fallen, and when if there be moments in this turbulent earth fit for celestial inter- course, one must imagine these would be the times immortal spirits might select to descend within the sphere of mortality, to soothe and comfort, to inspire and support the afflicted. ‘Under such impressions the present picture was produced. I imagined him standing on the brow of an impending cliff and musing on his past fortunes—sea-birds screaming at his feet— the sun just down—the sails of his guardship glittering on the horizon, and the Atlantic calm, silent, awfully deep and endlessly extensive. ‘“T tried it in a small sketch, and it was instantly purchased : I published a print, and the demand is now and has been incessant ; a commission for a picture the full size of life, from one well known as the friend of artists and patron of Art followed, and thus I have ventured to think a conception so unexpectedly popular might, on this enlarged scale, not be uninteresting to the public. ‘*“ No trouble has been spared to render the picture a resemblance: its height is Napoleon’s exact stature, according to Constant, his valet, viz. five feet two inches and three-quarters French, or five feet five inches and a half English ; the uniform is that of one of the regiments of Chasseurs; every detail has been dictated by an old officer of the regiment ; and his celebrated hat has been faithfully copied from one of Napoleon’s own hats now in England. ‘““ The best description I ever saw of Napoleon’s appearance was in the letter of an Irish gentleman, named North, published in the Dublin Evening Post, and as it is so very characteristic it may amuse the visitor. He saw him at Elba in 1814, and thus paints him: g¢¢ He 1831] DESCRIPTION OF NAPOLEON 507 ‘““* He but little resembles the notion I had of him, or any other manleversaw. He is the squarest figure I think I ever remember to have seen, and exceedingly corpulent. His face is a perfect square, from the effects of fat, and, as he has no whiskers, his jaw is thrown more into relief ; this description, joined to his odd little three-cornered cocked hat and very plain clothes, would certainly give him the appearance of a vulgar person, if the impression was not counteracted by his soldierly carriage, and the peculiar manner of his walking, which is confident, theatrical and a little ruffian-like, for he stamps the ground at every step, and at the same time twists his body a little. He was dressed that day in a green coat, turned up with a dirty white, etc., etc., etc. His neck is short, his shoulders very broad and his chest open, . . . His features are remarkably masculine, regular and well formed. His skin is coarse, unwrinkled and weather-beaten ; his eyes possess a natural and unaffected fierceness, the most extra- ordinary I ever beheld: they are full, bright and of a brassy colour. He looked directly at me, and his stare is by far the most intense I ever beheld. This time, however, curiosity made me a match, for I vanquished him. It is when he regards you, that you mark the singular expression of his eyes—no frown—no ill- humour—no affectation of appearing terrible; but the genuine expression of an iron, inexorable temper.’ ”’ The exhibition of the picture was opened in April, but the dissolution of Parliament and the agitation of the Reform question were fatal to its success. ‘The failure left the painter once more in embarrassment, which had now, indeed, become normal with him. His own powers of application to his art were diminished by the political excitement of the times, in which he shared to the full, writing letters on Reform to the ZJimes of which he declares himself very proud, and filling his Journals with political reflections and speculations instead of sketches and criticism of books or pictures. Haydon’s mind was certainly not limited to the range of his art. I have already pointed out that each successive picture served him as an introduction to some distinct branch of know- ledge or information which was keenly and searchingly followed up. This picture of Napoleon suggests to him long and elaborate reflections on the conduct and character of the Emperor, with which it does not appear necessary to trouble the reader. In April Wordsworth was in town. “ April 12th.—Wordsworth called after an absence of several years. I was glad to see him. He spoke of my Napoleon with his usual straightforward intensity of diction. We shook hands heartily. He spoke of Napoleon so highly that I wrote and asked him to give me a sonnet. If he would or could, he’d make the fortune of the picture. “ 20th 508 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1831 “ 20th to 26th.—All lost in politics, heat, fury, discussion and battling. Never was such a scene seen as in the House of Lords last Friday. The Marquis of Londonderry bent his fist at the Duke of Richmond, and if it had not been for the table would certainly have struck him. | “ 27th, 28th.—There was an illumination last night. ‘The mob broke all windows which had no lights. ‘They began breaking the Duke’s; but when the butler came out and told them the Duchess was lying dead in the house, they stopped. There is something affecting in the conqueror of Napoleon appealing for pity to a people he had saved. ‘* May 1st.—Since the roth of March I have done little. The exhibition in consequence of the dissolution fell to nothing. I closed it last night, though there never was a picture so admired, or that made so complete a hit with the connoisseurs. ““ Worked to-day at the Xenophon. I have two commissions for Napoleon, and only wait for a remittance. God bless my efforts again. ‘* 21st.—To-day, after an absence of some years, I visited Lord Stafford’s gallery, now belonging to Lord Francis... There I met Wilkie and Collins, with whom I associated for twenty years in this very place. Since we last met here, since we last studied here the beautiful pictures from which I originally gained all I know in colour, we had lost Sir George, who gave a double relish to everything. “* Wilkie seemed duller. ‘The pictures did not appear to be so fine as I used to think them. I strolled about, devoid of all enthusiasm, and when Wilkie began to think about the com- position of a bit of Raffaele’s drapery, I thought how unworthy a subject to occupy any man while the Poles were fighting for existence. ‘The times are too full of impulse for Art. “* 22nd.—Took dear Frank to school. ‘The pang of separation from a dear child born in trouble, and nurtured in convulsion, who had shared our sorrows, and reflected our joys in his beauti- ful face, was painful. Mary cried bitterly. ‘The children were grave, and all night I kept dreaming he was ill-used by the servants. I pray God most sincerely he may be able to stand it. This dear boy’s birth is recorded in my Journal for 1823. He was our first child, and I overwhelmed him with an eager interest which broke him down. “* Fune 1st—Oh dear—this is sad work! Nothing but one day’s painting, and the rest sketching—sucking in fresh air— basking in sunsets—rolling with my children on the grass, and observing nature. But the last summer was spent in prison; 1 The Earl of Ellesmere. and 1831] LETTER FROM WORDSWORTH 509 and there is something to be said when I find myself with a guinea in my pocket and no duns before me. However, to work I must go; and to-morrow, as an earnest, I am to select my horse at the Guards for Xenophon. It must be a mottled sienna horse, which will set off the light on the fair one. “Since I last wrote, poor Jackson is gone. A more amiable, inoffensive man never lived. He had a fine eye for colour, but not vast power, and could not paint women. He is the first of the three to go. God protect him. It is curious what a set came in together under Fuseli—Wilkie, Mulready, Collins, Pickersgill, Jackson, Etty, Hilton and myself. I have produced Landseer, Eastlake, Lance and Harvey; Wilkie, the whole domestic school. “ Fune gth—Mrs Siddons died this morning—the greatest, grandest genius that ever was born! Peace to her immortal shade! She was good, and pious, and an affectionate mother. Posterity can never properly estimate her power, any more than we can estimate Garrick’s. Hail and farewell! What a splendid Pythoness she seemed when reading Macbeth! And when acting Lady Macbeth—what a sight!” The 12th of June brought Wordsworth’s promised sonnet: “My dear Haydon, ““T send you the sonnet, and let me have your ‘ Kingdom’ for it. What I send you is not warm, but piping-hot from the brain, whence it came in the wood adjoining my garden not ten minutes ago, and was scarcely more than twice as long in coming. You know how much I admired your picture both for the execution and the conception. The latter is first-rate, and I could dwell upon it for a long time in prose, without disparagement to the former, which I admired also, having to it no objection but the regimentals. They are too spruce, and remind one of the parade, which the wearer seems to have just left. “One of the best caricatures I have lately seen is that of Brougham, a single figure upon one knee, stretching out his arms by the seashore towards the rising sun (William the Fourth), which, as in duty bound, he is worshipping. Do not think your excellent picture degraded if I remark that the force of the same principle, simplicity, is seen in the burlesque composition, as in your work, with infinitely less effect, no doubt, from the inferiority of style and subject, yet still it is pleasing to note the under- currents of affinity in opposite styles of Art. I think of Napoleon pretty much as you do, but with more dislike, probably because my thoughts have turned less upon the flesh and blood man than yours, and therefore have been more at liberty to dwell with unqualified scorn upon his various liberticide projects, and the miserable selfishness of his spirit. Few men of any time have been at the head of greater events, yet they seem to have had no power to create in him the least tendency towards magnanimity. VOL. 11.—33 How, 510 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1831 How, then, with this impression, can I help despising him? So much for the idol of thousands. As to the Reformers, the folly of the ministerial leaders is only to be surpassed by the wickedness of those who will speedily supplant them. God of Mercy have mercy upon poor England! To think of this glorious country lacqueying the heels of France in religion (that is vo religion), in morals, government and social order! It cannot come to good, at least for the present generation. They have begun it in shame, and it will lead them to misery. God bless you. ‘“ Yours, “Wn. WORDSWORTH. “You are at liberty to print the sonnet with my name, when and where you think proper. If it does you the least service the end for which it is written will be answered. Call at Moxon’s, Bond Street, and let him give you from me, for your children, a copy of the selections he has just published from my poems. “Would it not be taken as a compliment to Sir Robert Peel, who you told me has purchased your picture, if you were to send him a copy of the sonnet before you publish it ?”’ Sonnet to B. R. Haydon, Esq., composed on seeing his Picture of Buonaparte on the Island of St Helena. “Haydon ! let worthier judges praise the skill Here by thy pencil shown in truth of lines, And charm of colours ; J applaud those signs Of thought, that give the true poetic thrill,— That unincumber’d whole of blank and still— Sky without cloud—ocean without a wave— And the one Man, that labour’d to enslave The world, sole standing high on the bare hill, Back turn’d—arms folded, the unapparent face Ting’d (we may fancy) in this dreary place With light reflected from the invisible sun, Set—like his fortunes ! but not set for aye Like them—the unguilty Power pursues his way And before Him doth dawn perpetual run.”’ “* Fune 12th.—I received to-day the news of my son’s being rated, and another great pleasure, Wordsworth’s sonnet, and I fancied myself the greatest of men when I was returning from my walk after indulging in anticipation of a certain posthumous fame. As I entered my hall I found a man sitting and waiting. He told me what he wanted, and because I refused to consent he abused me excessively, and called me ‘a shabby fellow, a d d shabby fellow.’ “This is life: a sonnet in the morning, and damned as a shabby fellow in the evening. *“ One 1831] VISIT TO HIS STEPSON AT OXFORD 511 “One does not like to be called shabby, and it made me uneasy all the evening. “* A mingled yarn—a mingled yarn ! ’ “* Yune 18th.—Went to Oxford about my son, who had suffered great privations, and lived on bread and water for breakfast, when not invited out. This astonished the opulent warden and proctors. Perhaps there never before was a scholar who did this. All my boys are brought up to think knowledge, virtue and fame can only be got by privations. I called on the warden, who gave him the highest character. ‘The very porter at the gate looked mild when he spoke of him, and while I was talking, in he walked, looking good, pure and intellectual. “ Hyman will be distinguished, 1 am convinced. College life, properly taken advantage of, is a delightful life. Wadham is the most scholastic-looking place of all the colleges. “The warden looked horror- struck when he said, ‘I fear he does not always eat meat,’ as if not eating meat was the ne plus ultra of college privations. I never saw a ‘place that has so much the air of opulence and ease as Oxford. “Orlando has behaved like a hero. I told him he must go as the son of a poor man—to make knowledge and virtue his great objects, and to consider ali privations as the price. He has done so. He will be an example to all the rest of the children. No boy of mine can go to college but such as earn the means, as Orlando has done, by getting a scholarship at sixteen. “His brother is rated on board the Prince Regent for his good behaviour, and Frank, my own dear son, has begun his career at school. I have now his sister, seven years old, to think about starting. Frederic is a fine boy, and swears he wil! be a soldier. Alfred, in bad health, handsome, peevish and fretful, says he will bea painter. (He is qualified now for an R.A.) Harry i is a baby; and Fanny ill. God spare my life to see all educated, refined and honourable. For happiness in life they must not follow my example. I am of the Napoleon species. Wilkie is the man I shall ever hold up in point of caution and integrity, though not of heart: but heart is not incompatible with prudence. God spare my life and health! I have plenty to occupy it—a large family and a large picture. ““T told the warden I was for a fortnight without eating meat in concluding Solomon. “ But for these scholarships, no poor man would have a chance for Oxford. ‘ 21st—Thus ends half the year. Finished one Napoleon— half finished another—four sketches—and advanced Xenophon. I have 512 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1831 I have kept no regular account of how I have passed my time. I must begin again, or my mind will be injured. Saturday, Sunday, Monday and to-day, worked hard and advanced. Horse nearly done. Instead of that detestable cart-horse breed of Raffaele and others I have tried the blood Arab. It seems to give great satisfaction. ‘“‘ a7th._—I have, God be thanked! advanced Xenophon this week by a mighty stride. Worked hard and late, and had what I used to call the glorious faint feel. I remember once in 1812 making a jorum of tea, putting it all into a washhand basin, and dipping it out in tea-cups full—drinking in ecstasy. Nothing like your tea to studious men. Nectar is nothing to it. This was after painting the wicked mother in Solomon. “July 20thA quarter to nine. ‘This moment I have con- ceived my background stronger than ever. I strode about the room imitating the blast of a trumpet—my cheeks full of blood, and my heart beating with a glorious heat. Oh, who would exchange these moments for a throne? “* Here is my throne—let kings bow down to it !’ *““ Now, for my palette—and then canvas look sharp. ** August 28th—Out of town to Margate and Ramsgate the whole week. Never did human creatures suck in sea air with such rapture as I and my dear Mary and children. The beach at Ramsgate is superb. ‘The steady blue sea, the glittering sail, the expansive and canopied sky, were treats that literally over- powered one’s eyes and faculties, after being pent up in brick walls. “* It is five years since we were at the sea; some of the children never saw it. ‘['wice I have been imprisoned; and I thought it was a little at the expense of principle to go without settling all my bills; yet as my income is current, and all depends on my talents, and the developing of them in health, it may be excused. ““ What a scene a steamboat is! My next comic picture shall be A Margate Steamer after a Gale—Land—Land! I engaged all the musicians to sit, and go next week to sketch the locale of the vessel. ““ 31st—Thus ends August, and thus end the eight months —as unsatisfactorily passed as any eight since I began the art. Peel’s picture, from anxiety to do better than well, was a dead loss; and though he gave me 130 guineas, 200 would hardly have paid me. Iam melancholy: can I be otherwise? After twenty- eight years’ work, and sincere devotion, not to have saved one guinea, or to know where to go for one in case of sudden illness, broken limbs or fever. Not only not to have any property left, but 1831] RETROSPECT 513 but to have lost all that I had ever saved—ail the school books of my youth, all the accumulations of boyhood, youth and manhood —to lose impressions of language, for want of means of reference, to forget poets, to have Tasso slide from my mind, and almost dear Shakespeare fade on my memory. When I contrast my present unhappy condition, and remember myself in my father’s shop devouring all the new books, surrounded with all great works—my father’s shop was a distinguished library—when I recollect it was at my service, and the happy, happy hours I have spent poring over astronomy, geography, and acquiring knowledge in every way, and then bring to my mind the penury of my present condition, it forces tears to my eyes. I have nothing left on earth I can call my own, but my brains. “Yet my landlord is benevolent and good; my wife loving; my children beautiful. My two eldest boys are doing well; my own health, though not unshaken, yet good; my fame increasing ; but alas! debt and ruin have touched the honour of my name. Yet J am not unhappy. I never lose the mysterious whisper, ‘Go on,’ and I feel that in spite of calamity and present appear- ances, if | am virtuous and good, I shall, before I die, carry my great object. “Washington Irving says, ‘Columbus imagined the voice of the Deity spoke to him, to comfort him in his troubles at Hispaniola.” No—he did not imagine it—he did hear it, and it did speak. Irving calls him a visionary. Oh, no! Irving has no such object, he has no such communications. | “Well, adieu August. I never concluded any month more calmly melancholy, or more prepared when it pleases God. ** Sept. 15th.—Owing to the plague of exhibition, to the worrit of a subscription, the harass of a large family, my interruptions have been terrific. It is impossible to go on. “Two hundred and fifty-eight days have passed, and I have only worked legitimately sixty-one, leaving 197 days, valuable days, unprofitable and useless. This is so dreadful my brain almost maddens. A picture might have been done, but necessity is half the cause, and the treatment of Peel, which, to tell the truth, has sunk deep into me; but it was my own fault, though he might have behaved more nobly. Only 130 guineas for such a picture as Napoleon! I expected from his fortune an ample reward. It is no use to despair. Oh that I should ever speak the word!—but my feelings are very acute. He did not behave as became him; and I conducted myself with folly. These 197 days will rise up to my mind at my last hour. It is a serious crime. Never since I began the art have I been so guilty. It would be better policy to say nothing; but this is a Journal of oy ye MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1831 my mind and habits, and in conscience I can’t conceal it. ‘The state I have lately been in is shocking. My mind fatuous, im- potently drawling over Petrarch, dawdling over Pausanias, dipping into Plutarch. Voyages and travels no longer exciting; all dull, dreary, flat and disgusting. I seem as if I never should paint again. I look at my own Xenophon, and wonder how I did it, read the Bible, gloat over Job, doubt religion to rouse my faculties, and wonder if the wind be east or S.S.W., look out of window and gape at the streets, shut up the shutters, and lean my cheek on my hand—get irritable for dinner, two hours before it can be ready, eat too much, drink too much, and go to bed at nine to forget existence. I dream horrors, start up, lie down again, and toss and tumble and listen to the caterwauling of cats, and just doze away as light is dawning in. “ Delightful life—fit attendants on idleness! With my ambition! my talents! my energy! Shameful. “* 18th—Worked hard. Called on Leslie in the morning. Talked of Byron. Rogers said Moore had scarcely read his (Byron’s) manuscripts, that he was occupied, and lent it about; that the women read the worst parts, and told them with exaggera- tion; that Moore got frightened at hearing it abused, and burnt it without ever having read it through. Irving told Leslie he had read a part, and there was exquisite humour, though it could not all have been published. ‘ Belgrave Hopner told me that he had read it, and it ought to have been burnt. “‘ But it would have been but justice to have heard what Byron could say about his marriage, and now my Lady has it all her own way. “‘ Leslie said, Coleridge and Madame de Staél met—both furious talkers; Coleridge would talk. The next day she was asked how she liked Coleridge. ‘For a monologue,’ said she, ‘excellent, but as to a dialogue—good heavens!’ “‘ She would have been better pleased if Coleridge could have said this of her. For that evening never were two people so likely to hate each other.” The feelings of depression which at this time beset Haydon translate themselves in the pages of uneasy questioning about “fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute,” which fill the Journals of these months. Besides pecuniary difficulties, the political agitation of the time had probably much to do with this mood, as it distracted the painter from his work, and as with him interruption in his painting was always a source of discomfort and dissatisfaction with himself and things about him. In this month the picture of Christ’s Entry into Jerusalem was sold by its 1831] CHRIST’S ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM SOLD 515 its possessor, for Messrs Childs and Inman, of Philadelphia. Its departure from England was a heavy blow to the painter. “* September 23rd.—My Jerusalem is purchased, and is going to America. Went to see it before it was embarked. In the room was a very fine head of a Pope, by Velasquez. As this opportunity for a lesson was not to be lost, I placed it immediately in the centre of my picture, and compared them closely. The head by Velasquez was fresher, and there was evidently no yellow in it. In many of my heads the yellow predominates a little; but the penitent girl, and the centurion and the Samaritan woman, kept their ground triumphantly. After this I will fear no com- petition with any other work. “It was melancholy thus to look, for the last time, at a work which had excited so great a sensation in England and Scotland; the progress of which had been watched by all the nobility, foreign ministers and people of fashion, and on the success of which all prospect for the historical Art of the country at that time appeared to hang. It was now leaving my native country for ever, where I had hoped to have seen it placed triumphantly in some public building. ‘““ However, I trust in God it will be preserved from fire and ruin, and as it was a work painted with the most fervent prayers to Him, the author of all things, for health and strength to go through it, that He will be pleased to grant that it may cross the seas in safety, and do that good in America it has failed to do here. “Out the whole day about this picture. Its condition is admirable. It was painted in pure linseed oil, and not a single atom of gum in it, or on it since. God bless it, and the result of its mission. What a disgrace to the aristocracy ! ““24th.—Out the whole day on money matters. I should have returned without a guinea, but for the kindness of my dear friend, Talfourd, who lent me five sovereigns. I wrote the Dukes of Bedford and Devonshire to take another share—to no purpose yet. I am nearly through Xenophon, but with not a shilling for the winter, and my children literally in want of stockings for the cold. Triumph I shall. It is the dowry of Englishmen to contest and vanquish impossibilities. If this Reform Bill passes, whose breast will not broaden, and heart swell, who will not go down on his knees and thank God he was born in England? , “ 28th.—Out trying to arrange and defer the payment of my taxes and rates till Xenophon was done, and to endeavour to get the next month entirely clear for work. Succeeded; but what time is lost! “ October 3rd.—Hard at work on the First Child for my friend, Kearsey, one of the most infernal self-willed devils (except myself) 516 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1831 myself) that ever lived. ‘This engagement is of long standing. It was my duty, but I could not get over a certain disgust. This morning, Xenophon being comparatively off my mind, the whole of this last subject darted into my mind. | flew at it like a Turk, and to-night (the 4th) have got through it, except a trifle or two. “* 4th.—Worked from eight till four, with only ten minutes’ interval, and got through the First Child. I never painted a picture so quick in all my life. “* 5th.—Out to get money to pay the governess of my children. Succeeded by the kindness of my friend, Clarke, one of my trustees. I did not get home till past twelve. One called and the other called, and I then worked till half-past four, three hours and a half, and wound up my small picture of the First Child, though I painted it all yesterday. I shall paint some more small pictures. “* 6th.—After working with intense anxiety to keep my engage- ment with Kearsey, and having succeeded, to my conviction, in producing a rapid and finished sketch with character, colour, handling, and chiaroscuro, I took it down, expecting praise. When he saw it, with that air of insolence money gives city people, he said, ‘ | suppose this was done in three-quarters of an hour?’ What was that to the purpose? Were there not all the requisites of Art, and all the experience of my life? There were. “I took my leave, and went to see Jerusalem packed up, which was carefully and exceilenily done. I sighed at the thoughts of its leaving old England, but it is better in America than in a cellar in London. God grant it may have a safe passage. ““ As I was near the Bench I walked over, and called on poor D——., the victim of the commissioners for ten years. He was altered, and spoke in a voice sinking from exhaustion. He said he was starving. He said he had nothing all day yesterday. All his clothes were gone. I gave him a trifle, all I could afford, for really | had not 10s. I felt it a duty, and small as the sum was it gave me a glow of confidence in God. (The widow’s mite.) Well, 1 thought, my prospects of getting on are uncertain, but I'll trust where I have never trusted in vain. In coming home I took shelter from rain, where I found a poor Irish match-woman, and a sick boy under her cloak, crouching. I gave her a penny. It was contemptible, but it caused me pleasure. I came home in very low spirits. MKearsey had behaved like an ignorant brute about the sketch of the First Child. D had made me low, and I did not know where to get a guinea myself, when on the chimney-piece I found a letter from the Duke of Bedford enclosing ten guineas, and begging another share. It may be said, Whether you had been charitable or not the ten guineas would have been there. 1831] POLITICAL LUCUBRATIONS Sey there. Perhaps not. I like to consider it more than a happy coincidence! ” Here is an example of the painter’s political utterances in the shape of a letter to the Times, on the rejection of the Reform Bill by the Lords in this month. “ To the Editor of the ‘ Times.’ “ “Let not England forget her precedence of teaching nations how to live.’—MILTON. oul, “The Bill is rejected; but let the nation remember it has been legally rejected. The Lords are a component part of the legislature, and have as great a right to decide as they please as any other body of Britons. “ Patience, sound sense, and, above all, perseverance, have ever been considered by the world as the great leading points in the character of Englishmen. -Earnestly do I hope it may now be proved. The Bill is lost, but only for the time. From the habits of the Lords, from their separated society, their ignorance of the power of the press, and their affectation of despising it, no man who knew them expected at first another conclusion. But yet, Sir, let us hope that all classes will remember, that riot, confusion, fire, murder, robbery and exasperation will not advance reform, but impede it—embarrass the Government, and confirm the assertion of the Lords that people are not fit for greater influence. Let them not give their enemies such a handle. “As an Englishman who glories in his country, who would rather die on a dunghill in it than be possessed of affluence in any other, I earnestly appeal to the people to do nothing illegal; not to hamper the King or the ministers by distracting their attention, but to be quite certain that Lords Grey and Brougham and His Majesty will do all that can be done to obtain the nation’s great determination by another regular, legal attempt. “Let every man, therefore, attend to his duties, family or pro- fessional. Let every man in his sphere exert himself to influence it, by advising peace, patience and firmness, for nothing would afford such pleasure to the enemies of reform at home, or the enemies of England abroad, as to see the country sinking in political and domestic influence, a prey to civil broils and fierce and senseless bloody struggles. “In a country so regulated by the habit of a long establishment of law and government, there is no sense in proving our love of liberty by cutting the throats of our neighbours; or because a noble Lord may have differed with the advanced notions of the people on moral right, there is no evidence of superior knowledge in destroying his house, burning his library and pictures; in short, giving way to all the feelings more fit for a savage than a rational being. “* Reform 518 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1831 “ Reform must pass, but what a triumph it will be for England if it pass, as it will, by law and reason and constitutional means. “Thus will England prove the assertion of Milton; thus will she give a lesson to the world, and not forget, Sir, the precedence of teaching nations how to live. ‘““ If reform be passed by any other means we may rejoice ; but our joy would have been purer, and England would have stood higher, if it had passed, as I trust in God it will yet pass, and as it must, if the people conduct themselves with temperance and firmness. ‘* A REFORMER.”’ “ October 8th.—Very moderately at work. Never so excited since Waterloo as now about politics. I hope the people will be sensible. ‘ gth.—-At work and improved the Xenophon still, but much excited about reform.”’ It was while under the influence of this political fever that Haydon painted his picture of Waiting for the Times, which, with its bearing on the feeling of the times, had a great success, as might have been expected. The original picture was painted for Lord Stafford, to whose timely aid Haydon owed the means of matriculating his stepson Orlando at Oxford, but he produced more than one repetition of the subject, which is well known from the engraving. “* t1th.—Rubbed in Reading the Times, a capital subject. ‘‘ 12th.—Completed the rubbing in of Reading the Times. About the middle of the day became very uneasy from the state of the town, and went to Pall Mall. Ina bookseller’s shop I met Watson Taylor. He undervalued the exasperation of the people, and said it would be over in a week. I beg his pardon. Itisa much deeper feeling than he or any other of the borough-mongers imagine. How the borough-mongering has corrupted the country. ‘There is a chuckling sneer, a supercilious air, a knowing blinking of eye in a real borough-monger quite extraordinary; at the same time a manner of fashion, and as if he knew more than meets the eye, as if he was a criminal by right, and did wrong by superior education. ‘If we had not got the means of renovating ourselves, we should sink into slavery and corruption; but what I fear is, that the people have been so trifled with that mere reform will not satisfy them, that they look beyond. ‘The success of American independence has been the torch which has lighted the world for the last fifty years. It will now never cease blazing till cheap governments are established. The Coronation of George IV. may be considered the setting-sun of that splendid imposition— monarchy. “* I wrote 1831] A LAST VISIT TO SIR WALTER 519 “IT wrote Lord Londonderry, and begged him to take care of his Correggios. God knows what the mob might do. “Now Xenophon is done, I feel the want of a great work to keep my mind excited. A number of small things does not do so; it is not enough. “t4th.—I think I shall begin the Crucifixion. I called on Lord Londonderry, who was cut in the face by three pickpockets. He was more shaken than hurt, the porter said. “Sir Hussey Vivian last night reproached Lord John Russell with corresponding with the Birmingham Association, and said it ought to be put down, as in 1793. It requires a very different capacity to discover resemblances and to detect differences. 'The minister who guides himself by the example of Mr Pitt in 1793 has passed forty years in his own country to very litile purpose. “The state of public knowledge now and then is quite different. The knowledge of the result of violent revolutionary proceedings was not then acquired. And it was right and proper to take stern measures that a constitution of 100 years should not be over- turned by the adoption of thoughtless maxims of theoretic per- fection. But now the people cry out, not for revolution, but for restoration. ‘hey wish for their rights, and their rights they will have.” Sir Walter Scott was in London this month, previous to his sailing for Italy. Haydon paid him a last visit. * 16th.—Called on dear Sir Walter yesterday, and was affected at the alteration in him. Though he was much heartier than I expected to find him, his mind seemed shaken. He said he feared he had occasionally done too much at a time, as we all do. We talked of politics, of course. Though grateful to the King, he was ‘ too old a dog,’ he said, ‘to forget George IV.’ His son was on duty at Sheffield. I lamented that a poor fellow perfectly innocent had been shot on duty. ‘ Ah,’ said Sir Walter, ‘ soldiers should be careful how they fire, because bullets are gentlemen not much given to reflection.’ Here was a touch of the old humour. We chatted about Shee having the presidency. ‘An accom- plished gentleman,’ said Sir Walter, ‘ whom naebody ever haird on,’ affecting more Scotch accent then he has. This was d d fine. “We then talked of the late King. Sir Walter said he never saw anybody so pleased with a picture as he was with the Mock Election. After a quarter of an hour I took my leave, and as I arose he got up, took his stick, with that sideling look of his, and then burst forth that beautiful smile of heart and feeling, geniality of soul, manly courage and tenderness of mien, which neither painter nor sculptor has ever touched. It was the smile of 520 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1831 of a superior creature who would have gathered humanity under the shelter of its wings, and while he was amused at its follies would have saved it from sorrow and sheltered it from pain. Perhaps it may be the last time I am ever to see him, as he sails in a day or two; and if it be, I shall rejoice that this was the last impression. “* 22nd.—I must this day conclude this Journal, and a curious record it is of my mind and sufferings. Strange and extraordinary events are recorded of the fate of nations, and many singular sufferings of myself as an individual. But I have got through the Xenophon as I prayed at the commencement; and for this great mercy I offer my deepest gratitude to the Almighty Disposer of events. Something extraordinary will happen with relation to Xenophon. I began it in the midst of anxieties and afflictions, under the most extraordinary impulses of such a nature that I felt as if some influence was in the room. ‘God bless my family, and grant that I may live to see the reform of Art I have ever prayed for.”’ “ Oct. 22nd.\—This day I begin a new Journal. My Xenophon is done, except a trifle. The prospects of Art at this time are precarious; but if the Bill passes I think corporate bodies (the great nuisance) will be shaken, and native Art will then have a better chance. I saw Wilkie to-day. He was almost as much horrified at reform as when Ottley, poor Scott and I made him drink success to it in my large painting-room in Lisson Grove. ‘“‘ He was looking old and complained of his head. He will never again be what he was. ‘* 26th.—I called at the palace to-day; but what a difference in the attendants! All George IV.’s servants were gentlemen, to the very porters—well fed, gorgeous, gold-laced rascals. Monarchy is setting. In 100 years more I don’t think there will be a king in Europe. It isa pity. I like the splendid delusion ; but why make it so expensive? Voting now £100,000 a year for the Queen; as if £5000 was not enough for any woman’s splendour! ‘These things won’t be borne much longer. “ 28th.—A glorious day. King William IV. has consented to place his name at the head of my list for Xenophon. Huzza! God bless him. ‘“‘ Upon reflection I shall certainly vote for Her Majesty having £100,000 a year after this. What can a queen do with less? It is impossible. How shortsighted we are. I thought I felt peculiarly dull all day yesterday. ‘This comes of grinding colours. ‘Drank His Majesty’s health in a bumper, and success to 1 The eighteenth volume of the Journals commences at this date, with the motto, ‘“‘ Continuo culpam ferro compesce.”’ reform: 1831] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT 521 reform: I think kings ought not to set. They will keep in the meridian yet. ‘ 29th.—Kearsey bought my Waiting for the 'Times, a bless- ing. Exchanged several of H. B.’s admirable caricatures for my Napoleons. Whoever H. B. is, he is a man of great genius. He has an instinct for expression, and power of drawing, without academical cant, { never saw before ; but evidently an amateur from the delicacy of his touch, or timidity rather. “ 31st.—I wrote Lord Grey I thought it would be honourable to genius if those who had their freedoms voted to them either for their talent or bravery should be still allowed to retain their rights, notwithstanding they were non-resident. He is of opinion it cannot be done. [I still retain my opinion. It would be a tribute to genius a Greek or Roman would not have hesitated to ay: no November 1st.—Worked hard, and half did Waiting for the Times. Horrid news from Bristol. In the midst of a mass of people roaring vengeance Sir Charles Wetherell threatened to commit. Think of a man threatening to commit the sea at the deluge! ‘These people, accustomed to authority, are like poor George II1., who continued to make peers and baronets long after his senses had gone from him. “12th.—As time approaches for the meeting of Parliament people apprehend the decision of the Whigs. The Bill will be thrown out I have no doubt. God knows what will be the conse- quence. I will bet five to one the Duke comes in after all and carries the measure. If he do I shall laugh. I have never taken his bust away, but keep it on my chimney-piece, in spite of the devil, and will do so. Though a reformer, { am yet a John Bull to the marrow. I am not going to forget | him who raised the nation from disgrace. “What I complain of is the inflammation of mind this Reform Bill has generated. I can fix on no reading but reform meetings. I am sick of it, and wish for any conclusion that will be a con- clusion; but the fact is it will never conclude. “t4th—I dreamt last night of dear Keats. I thought he appeared to me, and said, ‘Haydon, you promised to make a drawing of my head before I died, and you did not do it. Paint me now.’ I awoke and saw him as distinctly as if it was his spirit. {am convinced such an impression on common minds would have been mistaken for a ghost. I lay awake for hours dwelling on the remembrance of him. Dear Keats, I will paint thee, worthily, poetically! “18th.—This day my dear little child Fanny died, at half-past one in the forenoon, aged two years, nine months, and twelve days. 522 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1831 days. The life of this child has been one continued torture: she was weaned at three months from her mother’s weakness and attempted to be brought up by hand. This failed, and she was reduced to a perfect skeleton; one day when I was kissing her she sucked my cheek violently. I said, ‘ ‘This child wants the bosom even now.’ Our medical friend said it was an experi- ment, but we might try it. I got a wet nurse instantly, and she seized the bosom like a tigress; in a few rmonths she recovered, but the woman who came to suckle her weaned her own child. ‘* T called on the nurse before she came, and found a fine baby, her husband and herself in great poverty. I said, ‘ What do you do with this child?’ She replied, ‘ Wean it, sir. We must do so: we are poor.’ I went away. “Is this just,’ thought I, ‘ to risk the life of another child to save my own?’ I went home tortured about what I should do, but a desire to save my own predominated. ‘“‘ The nurse came, Fanny was saved, but the fine baby of the poor nurse paid the penalty. I was never easy. ‘ Fanny never can, and never will prosper,’ thought I. What right had I to take advantage of the poverty of this poor woman to save my own child, when I found out she had an infant of her own? When the nurse’s time was up, Fanny withered, the bosom was again offered, and refused. From that moment she daily sank in spite of all medical advice, and to-day, after two convulsive fits, expired without a gasp. “‘ 23rd.—Dearest Fanny was buried to-day, close to Mrs Siddons, in a most retired and sweet spot, where I hope to have a vault for all of us. ‘Two trees weep over the grave. No place could have been more romantic and secluded.? “Peace to her little soul—born weakly, but her weakness aggravated by improper treatment; always ill, in a large family, wanting repose and rest and never getting it. What a weakly child suffers from the healthy children! Good God! the teasing, the quizzing, the tyranny, the injustice! “ 24th—Began my family picture with dear Alfred’s head, who is dying too. J went on painting and crying. There he sat, drooping like a surcharged fiower; as I looked at him, I thought what an exquisite subject a dying child would make. There he dozed, beautiful and sickly, his feet, his dear hands, his head, all drooping and dying. ‘* 25th.—Rubbed in the dying boy to-day. It will make a most piercing subject. ‘ 26th.—Hard at work on my family picture. They shall see if I can paint portraits, now my heart is in it. 1 In Paddington new churchyard. ‘S308B. 1831] LETTER FROM GOETHE 523 ‘ 30th.—A month of occupation, but not such occupation as equals my intentions. When shall I ever do that? ““ My sweet Fanny died this month. There is now such an intimate connection with me and the grave that I shall never break the chain. I pierce through the earth, the coffin and the lid, and see her lying still and awful. At breakfast, at dinner, at tea, I see her. I look forward to my own death with placid resignation, and only hope God, in His mercy, will not let me suffer much. ““T should like to finish my life, clear up my own character and leave my name free from the spots misfortune has implanted there. Bless my intentions, O Lord! “December 2nd.—To-day I have done nothing on earth but muse, ponder, wonder, blunder and mope. I want £50: how to get it, where to get it and when to get it, God knows. In Him I trust, and shall not trust in vain. ““3rd.—After a harassing day, calling on the commissioners of taxes, and trying to defer the payment of a cognovit, I came home fagged to death. I found a letter from Francis of Exeter, a proof of his good heart, offering me {50. If I get this blessing next week it will save me. Dves sine lined. Not a touch yet. ‘‘ 29th.—There is in the English people a fierce resolution to make every man live according to the means he possesses. ‘The principle is fine, but they do not sufficiently draw the line between the actual possession and the justifiable hope of possessing. “31st—The following letter of Goethe’s is an immortal honour. Think of this great man saying his soul is elevated by the contemplation of the drawings of my pupils from the Elgin Marbles—drawings which were the ridicule and quiz of the whole body of Academicians: “* My dear Sir, “ picture. “* oth—Worked deliciously, as I was resolved to paint, let what would happen. ‘This ruined me in 1823. ‘* Painted the mother’s head. “* roth. 1835] DECORATING THE HOUSE OF LORDS 593 “ toth—My wedding day. Worked hard and finished the mother. ‘This week ended so far well; nearly all my creditors have agreed to my terms, but still there are some who harass. Last Saturday I did not expect to get through this week; but I trusted, and have done it. “* 13th.—Hard at work, and put in a beautiful head of dearest Mary. “Called on Lord Melbourne, and had an hour’s interview. “Is there any prospect, my Lord, of the House of Lords being ornamented by painting?’ ‘ No,’ he thundered out, and began to laugh. ‘ What is the use of painting a room of deliberation? ’ ‘ Ah,’ said I, ‘if I had been your tutor at college you would not have said that.’ He rubbed his hands again, looking the picture of mischief, and laughed heartily. I then said, ‘ Let me honour your reign.’ He swaggered about the room in his grey dressing- gown, his ministerial boxes on the table, his neck bare—and a fine antique one it was—looking the picture of handsome, good- natured mischief. ‘Suppose,’ said he, ‘we employ Calcott.’ *Calcott, my Lord, a landscape painter!’ said I. ‘ Come, my Lord, this is too bad.’ He then sat down, opened his boxes and began to write. Isat dead quiet, and waited till his majesty spoke. ‘What would you choose?’ ‘ Maintain me for the time, and settle a small pension to keep me from the workhouse.’ He looked up with real feeling. ‘ Let me,’ said I, ‘in a week bring you one side as I would do it.’ He consented, and we parted -most amicably. God knows what will come of it. “* 16th —Worked very hard, and delightfully. Made a sketch of one side of the House of Lords, as I propose to adorn it, with a series of subjects to illustrate the principle of the best govern- ment to regulate without cramping the liberty of man: Anarchy , . Banditti. Democracy . ; . Banishment of Aristides. Despotism ; ; . Burning of Rome. Revolution. . . La derniere charette. Moral Right . ; . Establishment of Jury. Limited Monarchy . . King, Lords and Commons. ““ God grant this victory at last. “* 20th—Out again, was so miserable at not being able to paint I came home and set to work, come what would, and left my dear landlord to attend to it. “ 21st.—Worked hard and delightfully at Christ’s head. God only knows if successfully. What a condition mine is! No prints—no books—all gone as security for loans to support my family. Yet ‘ Go on’ I ever hear, as I have ever heard for thirty years. 594 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1835 years. God bless me with health and vigour of mind to my last asp. “* 28th.—On Sunday I sent down by Lord Melbourne’s desire the sketch of one side of the House of Lords, containing pictures to illustrate the best government for man. He saw it, and seemed more nettled than pleased I had proved its feasibility. He objected to the picture of Revolution being taken from the French. He said the French Government would think it an insult; and said the subjects ought all to refer to the House of Lords and English history. I replied it should be an abstract idea, illus- trated from the history of the world. After musing some time he said, ‘ It certainly does express what you mean, but I will have nothing to do with it. He then went on bantering me, and | replying in the same strain; it was an amusing duel. “* 30th.—God protect us—Amen. Sold some prints, which relieved our actual wants, and nearly finished the figure, though being so dark it may want supervision. I think I may say I am beginning to reap at last, in execution, those delights I looked forward to when dissecting. ““God in heaven grant me twenty years more of meridian powers.” At this time Lord Brougham’s Discourse of Natural Theology appearing engrossed Haydon; and, as is usually the case, when any book deeply interested him, he has filled many pages of his Journal with arguments and reflections suggested by it, at the end of which he acknowledges he should have been painting instead of writing them. ‘* Nov. 4th——Lord Brougham’s book threw my mind entirely off its balance for painting, and I have not touched my brush till to-day, and then very feebly. Such speculations always act thus on me. “ 6th.—Up to this moment I have not actually painted. Why? Harass, anxiety, want of money, loss of time in being obliged to trudge about and sell my own prints, at fifty years old nearly, and after thirty-one years’ intense devotion to the art. It is hard; but God’s will be done. ** Dec. 5th.—Hard at work, and advanced well. An Academician said the sun of Art had set in this country. The silly creature! It has never risen. ‘The first streak of the dawn has but just appeared. ‘Ihe morning star is still glittering. The comets —Reynolds, Hogarth, Wilson, Gainsborough—were blazing but irregular lights. We have never had the steady effulgence of the sun. ‘* 31st.—The last day of 1835. Another last day. On review- ing the year, though I have suffered bitter anxieties, I have cause for 1835-36] REVIEW OF 1835 595 for the deepest gratitude to my great Creator in raising me up such a friend as my dear landlord, who has helped me when the nobility forsook me, as usual; and employed me to paint the Widow’s Son and Achilles, paying me five guineas weekly, to the amount of 100 guineas, and then striking off 400 guineas for each from the gross debt. During the whole of that time I have not had a single inquiry as to what I was doing, or if I wanted any- thing to do, though they all know my necessities, my large family and my misfortunes. “I close this year, 1835, apprehending an execution; but I despair not. A star is always shining in my brain, which has ever led me on, and ever will. “Though the Melbourne Ministry, in imitation of their head, have no feeling for Art, a feeling is dawning among the mechanics and the middle classes. Day has broke, however far off may be the meridian sunshine.” Through all the sore struggle of this year Haydon had seen more of fashionable society than at any period since that of his early successes. I find constant mention of dinners, and routs and charade-parties. Entered péle méle with notes of invitation to such gay and pleasant assemblies are urgent appeals for com- missions to great patrons, lawyers’ letters, many notes refusing assistance, not a few giving it. No wonder that the constant battling with necessity had already begun to tell as well on Haydon’s mode of working as on his powers. He was now painting pictures for bread, repeating himself, dispatching a work in a few days over which in better times he would have spent months, ready to paint smail things, as great ones would not sell, fighting misery at the point of his brush, and with all his efforts obliged to eke out a livelihood by begging and borrowing, in default of worse expedients, such as bills and cognovits. In short, the net of embarrassment was now drawn closely about him, never more to be struggled quite clear of while he lived, though the proceeds of lecturing relieved him at times, and enabled him to pay his way for considerable periods together. A less elastic temperament and a less vigorous constitution would have broken down in one year of such a fight. Haydon kept it up for ten. One justice must be done him: if he pleaded hard for himself in his necessities, he pleaded as passionately for Art. 1836 ‘* Fanuary 1st-—Prayed God to bless us through the year, and went into the city to beg mercy from a lawyer till Monday, though I have no more chance of paying then than now. ‘To-day I had another 596 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1836 another sum due. I must beg money to-morrow for that. I came home to attend to my sick children, relying on the lawyer’s honour. So has passed the first day of 1836. “* 2nd.—Harass, harass, harass. Fred ill. ** 5th.—Dashed in Adoration of Magi. “ 7th—Not fairly begun yet. ‘The canvas came home to-day. God bless it, and what I put on it. *“* 8th.—Rubbed in the Magi. God bless me through it. Sketched from naked model the figures for the picture. “* gth—Completed the rubbing in of the picture, and made two sketches of lion and man, and had a kind letter from the Duke of Bedford, with £5, a real blessing. I took my dress-coat out of pawn with it to lecture at the Mechanics’ Institution. “* roth.—My house in great anxiety, from so much sickness. I hope the dear baby will not suffer. Marriage entails great interruption, but I think it prevents a man’s mind eating him up, which is the case in too much solitude. “* r1th.—‘ Italy is the place for a painter,’ said my friend. I say ‘No.’ In Italy everything has been done. England is the place for enterprise, where everything is to be done. “* 13th_—Read my second lecture at the Mechanics’ Institution on the bones, with great applause, and introduced the naked figure. “I told them all if they did not get rid of every feeling of indelicacy in seeing the naked form, and did not relish its abstract beauty, taste for Grand Art would never be rooted amongst them. This was received with applause, and I broke the ice for ever. I always said the middle classes were sound, and I am sure of it. I was obliged to take my black coat out of pawn to lecture in; and this morning, when all my friends are congratulating me, in walks an execution for £50. I wrote to Lord Melbourne, Peel and Duke of Bedford. Lord Melbourne sent me directly a cheque for £70. ‘This was kind-hearted. He told me I must not think him hard, but decidedly he could not repeat it. J concluded my grateful reply by telling him that I should think nothing hard but his building the House of Lords without pictures—at which he laughed heartily I will be bound. “* 24th—What a grand style the artists had got into their heads in the last century! Nothing natural was the ; . grand style. Bad colour. : . grand style. No light and shadow . . grand style. Clothing a king and beggar alike . grand style. Dislocated knees, hip, wrists and neck grandest style. “ 25th.—My birthday—fifty years old. Settled the subject for 1836] PROGRESS OF CASSANDRA 597 for Newton—Samson and Delilah. God bless me through it! Amen. “* 26th.—Another execution for £22. Wrote Lord Lansdowne. No.answer yet. Ishallstand it out; but the expenses are horrible. This is always the way after any publicity. “* 30th.—Rubbed in Cassandra. (Released from execution, after a week’s agony.) “* 31s¢—Passed the day in divine peace after the torments of the week. Read prayers to the children, and wrote my fourth lecture. How will the academic authorities of Art in Europe stare to hear these rebellious doctrines promulgated by a simple Englishman in a Mechanics’ Institute, No 37 Southampton Buildings, Holborn. Why the cocked hats of all the presidents will rise up like Mahomet’s coffin, and be suspended in horror between earth and heaven, uncertain which to fly to for refuge and protection. “* Hail immortal cocked hats !—the last of an illustrious race— hail! but carry with you this consolation in adversity—nothing human is stable. Babylon, in all her glory, fell. Why should cocked hats escape the sentence of all things human? “ February 3rd—toth.—Being a little clear, I began to glaze the Widow’s Son: drying oil and mastic, half and half. “ 16th.—The R.A.’s complain I do not go on in ‘a quiet gentlemanly way.’ Exactlyso. When I got into a prison nothing would have pleased them more than if I had died in a ‘ quiet gentlemanly way.’ “* 19th.—Glazed and completed, but I can look back with little satisfaction on the passing of the last two months. So much harass and thinking for lectures, though they were triumphantly received. So much necessity and pecuniary want are sad occupiers of time. However, I trust in God, as I have ever done, and hope humbly He will have the mercy to permit my two last pictures to be sold for my sake, and for the encouragement of my worthy landlord to go on helping me to finish other works. “Called at the Duke’s to see Cassandra; was not pleased. Her head is too small, and that is the fault of all the heads: and the foreground kneeling man is too large. One gets flattered so in one’s own painting-room, and thinks so highly of one’s immediate efforts; I was abashed at seeing so many faults. They shall not occur again. “‘ 24th.—I dined with Lord Audley last night.1 He gave me two handsome commissions. I trust in God they will turn out satisfactorily; and that He will bless their commencement, pro- gression and conclusion. 1 Lord Audley was undoubtedly at this time insane. ** March 598 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1836 “* March 2nd.—Hard at work. Lord Audley has given me a handsome commission—the Black Prince thanking Lord James Audley for his valour after the battle of Poictiers This subject will bring me into English history, which I have long wished for. “ ath.—In the City, for what the City is only fit for—cash— and disappointed. “* 5th.—In the City for cash, and the best of the joke is, got it. Lord Audley called and sat while I finished his second son. Settled the size and everything. All now afloat, thanks to God! What I have gone through these pages testify! Let any man of feeling reflect that on the loss of a beautiful infant we were obliged to pawn our winter things to bury her; that when my dear Mary was screaming in labour I rushed into my parlour, took down the drawings of my children and raised £2 on them, after my landlord had advanced me £3; that on the night of my most brilliant success I took my coat out of pawn, and had the torture of being obliged to return it the next day, with the thunder of public applause ringing in my ears. ‘““ Lord Audley seems quite aware of all, and says he hopes his example will be followed by the nobility in recording the deeds of their ancestors. “‘ 7th.—Lord Audley dined with us, an old George IV.’s man -——the lineal descendant of the Lord James Audley who fought at Poictiers. He told us all about his poverty; of Lord Grey’s getting him £300 from the King’s privy purse, and his losing it in a coffee-house; of his going to Lord Dudley at twelve at night, and stating his misfortunes, and that Lord Dudley went into the next room, and wrote a cheque for {1500 for him. “He said George IV., one day when he dined with the King in company with Sir E. Horne, said: ‘ Audley, I must kiss your forehead,’ and did so in honour of Poictiers. ““He drank freely and fell asleep. I could not help being deeply interested at seeing the descendant of Lord James Audley dozing by my fireside. ““ He said, since he gave me that commission, he had been advised not to do so, for fear his picture should be seized. He told us ‘ he despised the scoundrel.’ “Lord Audley said: ‘Money is at your command.’ He talked of making my daughter presents, but this I shall not allow, and if he does anything out of the way in point of liberality for me I will write to his eldest son, for I do think he is eccentric. He made me tell him how much I owed, and said: ‘ Would you not like to be cleared?’ But it is a large sum. ‘“‘ He praised my daughter (who is beautiful), and said: ‘If Bill 1836] LORD AUDLEY 599 Bill likes her, and she will marry him, I will give him £50,000.! He told stories capitally well, and laughed heartily, and then stopped, and laughed, and looked serious. His manners were peculiar and made me melancholy. What seemed to dwell on his mind was his former poverty. He told me our meeting was providential, and that I should never want. He got excessively tipsy with little wine. I went for a coach and sent him to the New Hummums. I feared after I ought to have seen him home. “Poor Lord Audley, he means to do us a service if not per- suaded out of it. ““ He was very witty, and concluded always his stories of the nobility assisting him, by saying: ‘ You know I always brought in Poictiers.’ ““roth.—Lord Audley called; was highly pleased, and left me £85. He talked no more of Bill and £50,000. He saw my little dear, who said: ‘ Lord Audley is different to-day.’ I did not tell her, but the fact was he was sober—all the difference. “ r1th.—Spent the day at the Museum, and read Hollinshed, Stowe, and Froissart. Stowe’s is the best account. Looked into Stothard’s beautiful Monumental Effigies, and into Meyrick. ‘“ r9th.—The private day at Suffolk Street. Sir Robert Peel was there in the morning and admired the Achilles. He went to the Falstaff, and said to a member: ‘I don’t know if this is not his forte.’ Now this was very mischievous. It is not more my forte than Napoleon, or the head of Lazarus. “ 20th.—Read late last night in Stowe’s Chronicles and hurt my eyes. Sent the children to church, and read prayers to myself with the greatest delight. There is nothing like piety. “ Sir Joshua said no man would be a great painter who looked to Sunday as a relief. I say he will never be a great painter, the development of whose powers will be injured by one day in seven devoted to religion. “‘ Rubens arose at four, prayed, and entered his painting-room. Here was the most daring spirit in the art—-a man who had only to use his brush as authors use their pens, and do little else but write his conceptions on canvas—not venturing to begin for the day till he had prayed for blessing on his efforts. “ T always used to remark that the idlest students worked hardest ona Sunday. Call on them in the week, they were never at their studies; call on a Sunday, and you were sure to find them buried in all the grubbiness of dressing-gown and dirty slippers. “‘ 21st—Hard at work and advanced rapidly. Pictures that used to take me years I do now in months. ‘Those which now take me months, I hope soon will only take me days. 1 My simplicity in believing the vagabond !—B.R. H. 1845. h * 20th. 600 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1836 “ 30th.—Lectured at the Mechanics’ on Composition; tried them on the Academy, and succeeded. The committee were in a funk. “In the committee afterwards they said: ‘ Your enthusiasm carried them on, or they would not have borne it.’ No. It was their understandings carried them on. They have an instinct against oppression. ‘hey know I am the victim. “ April 6th—Lectured at the Mechanics’ with great applause. Hamilton (‘ce cher William Hamilton,’ as Canova called him) went, and seemed highly gratified. He took his son, Captain Hamilton, a fine sailor-like, manly fellow. They seemed astonished at my hearty reception from the audience. They are of a different race to the audiences at the Royal Institution. ‘“‘ 12th.-In the city and succeeded. Curse the crowded, stinking, smoky, golden city, with its iron, money-getting, beastly, underbred snobs! *“* May 3rd.—Finished my lecture. ** 4th.—Delivered it, and concluded the series triumphantly. Frank and dear Mary were there, and when she came in with her beautiful face, they gave her a round of applause. Ah, would my dear Harry had been present. How his magnificent young soul would have expanded! ”’ The picture of Xenophon was rafHled for on the gth of this month and won by the Duke of Bedford. The amount of sub- scriptions was £840, and the noble winner presented the picture to the Russell Institution, Great Coram Street, Russell Square, where it now hangs. There is great vigour in the work through- out, and parts of it, such as the head of the horse in the centre, the back of the rider who is carrying his wife, the wounded soldier and the female figure, are admirable. But it represents rather an episode in the march up Mount Theches than the discovery of the sea from its summit; and the distribution of the picture is not pleasing; the foreground figures look too large, owing to the want of a group in the middle distance to connect them with Xenophon and his soldiers on the hill-top in the background. On the 16th of the same month death took Haydon’s youngest child, Newton. Passionately attached to his children as Haydon was, this blow fell heavily, and left him for many days in a melancholy apathy. “That dear, innocent, quiet angel of a baby haunts my imagination,” he writes on the 25th. And it should not be forgotten that the sorrow came at a time of grievous straits, when everything on which money could be raised was often pawned for necessaries. ‘The success of the lectures, it is true, was some set-off against want and family griefs. Haydon was a most effective lecturer. His confident, energetic, and earnest 1836] HAYDON LECTURING 601 earnest manner carried his audience cheerfully along with him. His delivery was distinct and animated, and his style better adapted for hearing than reading. The two published volumes of lectures will be found to contain much the germ of which is to be found in the Autobiography and Journals, and their publi- cation renders unnecessary more detailed notice of the lectures themselves in this book. The lecturer’s power of rapid and vigorous drawing also stood him in good stead, and the masterly effect with which he dashed down on his blackboard a figure or a limb, or illustrated the leverage of a bone, or the action and mechanics of a muscle, always commanded interest and applause. ‘Then he was never afraid of his audience; he ruled them, sternly enough sometimes, and never shrunk from a reprimand when he thought they deserved it. A friend who attended his lectures at Liverpool has described to me how once, when he had got up two wrestlers on the platform to demonstrate the laws of muscular action in the living subject, the audience having laughed at some con- tortion of the pair, Haydon fiercely addressing the laughers as “You fools! ’’ checked the merriment, and ordered his hearers to observe and admire, with more respect for God Almighty’s handiwork. Lecturing, which Haydon had now fairly begun, became before long one of his main resources, and it must be added to the other means he took of inculcating his views of Art, and its relations to government and education. ‘““Fune 21st—Out on business. Came home. Dashed in the composition of the Heroine of Sarragossa. Did little to Poictiers. I have had a great deal of money; have paid a great deal away; have none left, and am harassed out of my life.” Mr Ewart’s Committee! commenced its sittings in June, 1 The Committee consisted of Mr Ewart (chairman), Mr Morrison, the Lord Advocate, Mr Pusey, Mr John Parker, Mr Wyse, Mr H. T. Hope, Dr Bowring, Mr Heathcoate, Mr Strutt, Mr Hutt, Mr Brotherton, Mr Scholefield, Mr David Lewis, Mr Davenport. It examined manufacturers, connoisseurs, picture-cleaners and dealers, Royal Academicians and artists. Its report adverted to the little encouragement hitherto given to the arts in this country, to the close connection between arts and manufactures, and the want of means for instruction in design in our principal seats of manufacturing industry : and suggested, in addition to the Normal School of Design, which Government had now taken a vote for establishing, local schools to be assisted by grants; the formation of museums and galleries of art, and further, the formation of a cheap and accessible tribunal for the protection of invention in design. With respect to Academies, the Committee inclined to the belief that the principle of free competition in Art will ultimately triumph over all artificial institutions, and pointed out strongly the — and, 602 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1836 and, as may be supposed, Haydon followed the progress of the inquiry with interest. What particularly pleased him was to see the Academicians brought to public examination. His personal grudge and his views of art, education, and patronage had now become too completely intertwined in his mind for him to separate, or for us to unravel them His own examination took place on the 28th, and the result, he says, was glorious. In entering this fact in his Journals he adds: “‘ When I think that in 1804 I went into the new church in the Strand, and on my knees prayed I might be a reformer of the Art; that often and often I have had those extraordinary inspirations of ‘go on’ supernaturally whispered; and that now I am permitted to see the beginning of the end of this imposture, I must believe myself destined for a great purpose. I feel it; I ever felt it; I know it.” “The result seems to be”’ (he says a little later) “ that the artists are disposed to compromise and save the Academy. ‘* If they do, they deserve all that may and will happen to them again. After thirty years’ fighting, the Government have done all they wished; they have granted a Committee; if the artists have neither talent, skill or disinterestedness enough to make full use of so vast an advantage, then let them no more complain, but bend their necks to the chain and the padlock, and submit for another seventy years to the kicks they have so valorously grumbled under for seventy years past.” half-public, half-private character of the Academy, without directly recom- mending any modification of its constitution. With respect to the National Collections, the Committee recommended the compiling of a catalogue for the use of visitors, the fixing on the frames of the pictures the names of the school, the master, the date of his birth and death—the purchase of the works of living British artists, after they have stood the test of time and criticism—the deposit in the National Gallery of the Cartoons from Hampton Court—the admission of practical and professional critics among the persons entrusted with the duty of purchasing works for the National Gallery, and an improvement in the constitution of commissions for deciding on plans of public works, by subjecting them first to the test of public criticism and afterwards to a tribunal consisting of artists in general, assisted by persons pro- fessionally acquainted with the subject of the work. In conclusion they submitted, that in the completion of great public buildings, the arts of sculpture and painting might be called in for the embellishment of architecture, and expressed their opinion that the contemplation of noble works in fresco and sculpture is worthy of the intelligence of a great and civilised nation. It will be obvious to all readers of these Memoirs, that many of the most important of these recommendations were the very things which Haydon had most vehemently urged on Ministers and the public. Haydon in his evidence suggested a constituency of artists who had exhibited three years, to elect annually twenty-four directors for a central school of Art in London, in connection with branch schools in . the country. ; His 1836] EWART’S FINE ARTS COMMITTEE 603 His learned and genial friend, Mr Gwilt, whom Haydon often applied to for information on the History and Antiquities of Art (on which he could hardly find a better informed or more accessible authority), furnished him with matter for this examination. Haydon was not satisfied with the results of this inquiry, nor the conduct of the artists examined. He complains that they showed no comprehension of a general principle, but kept driving away at individual grievances till the patience of the Committee was exhausted. He was angry, too, that the anti-academic party among his brethren did not formally apply to him to be their leader and champion. ‘Thus he complains: ‘The meanness of the behaviour of the artists to me is extra- ordinary. When I attacked the Academy in 1812, they all rushed to the Academy as to a father for protection from this madman, predicting my death, my ruin, my destruction, etc., but finding I have kept my ground, that I proposed and have got a committee, 1 Here is Mr Gwilt’s useful summary of facts in the history of Academies of the Fine Arts. The Academy of St Luke was founded by Girolamo Muziano, a native of Aquafredda, in the territory of Brescia, who was born in 1528, and died in 1590. Gregory XIII. made him superintendent of works to his chapel. Muziano endowed it during his life, and at his death left all his property to it. Muziano was of Titian’s school. Louis XIV. having, in 1665, established a French Academy at Rome, with a pension for twelve scholars of the three arts, induced the Academy of St Luke to let it be hung on to the original foundation. The Royal Academy of Architecture at Paris was, through the inter- cession of M. Colbert, founded by Louis XIV. in 1671, and confirmed by Louis XV. in 1717. It was the practice for lectures to be delivered constantly by the members, who were twenty-six in number. The Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture at Paris was founded in 1648, and confirmed through the interest of Mazarin in 1653. Colbert procured it an endowment. It consisted of a director, chancellor, four rectors, a treasurer, twelve professors, etc., by whom daily lectures were given, and the model set. Prizes were given every three months. It sent the most promising students to Rome. The Academy of St Luke at Venice was the earliest regular association for the study of the arts, and was established about 1345, but did not take the name of Academy till 1350. The Academy “‘ delle belle arti”’ at Florence, was founded by the Grand Duke Peter Leopold in 1784. Premiums twice a year, and a grand competition every third year. The Institute at Bologna was originally founded by Eustachio Manfredi in 1690, but did not bear its present name till 1714, when it was joined by a sort of College bearing that name. The Royal Academy of Sciences at Turin was founded about the middle of the eighteenth century. Its memoirs first published in 1759. The Academy of Padua, end of the eighteenth century. The Academy of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture at Vienna, in 1705. Royal Academy, London, 1768. they 604 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1836 they now hold their meetings secretly and privately; never give me notice, fearful of my taking the lead, as I should instantly do, which they know. They are absolutely intriguing to do all without me, and so get the honour which I have so successfully fought for. It is despicable, and just like them. They have been so cowed by the despotism that has ruled them, that they are like the Portuguese, not fit for the liberty we want to give them. ““ In consequence of disappointment from Lord Audley, I am without a guinea; and now, this day, have not a coat in my drawer. Shocking ! ‘“ 15th.—This day Thou knowest what is to happen. O God, I ask only for justice and truth to triumph. Amen. ‘* 16th.—Justice, indeed, triumphed. Shee, the President, was examined. “IT came down at one and found Ewart in the chair, the room full, Shee sitting in the bitterest agitation. I placed myself right opposite Shee, which seemed to disturb him. He arose, bowing, and affecting the strongest respect for the Committee, begged to know by what authority he was summoned, as he considered it was only by permission of the King he could be there. The chairman ordered the committee clerk to read the authority, which being conclusive, poor Sir Martin was obliged to bow. He then entered on a rambling defence, and was repeatedly called to order by Ewart, and told to stick to the point. He accused the evidence of being personal and partial. Rennie jumped up and denied it, and was called to order. Shee shaking his hand at me across the table, in the most extraordinary manner, said, ‘’That’s the re- spectable man,’ alluding, of course, to my misfortunes. Honour- able Sir Martin! First to drive me into distresses, and then grossly to allude to them before a committee called for the purpose of inquiring into the effects of institutions. Mr Pusey proposed the Court should be cleared. Shee begged the gentle- men round him might stay. The absurdity was so great, that leave was granted for all to stay, on the understanding that no altercation or personalities took place. Shee then dwelt on a mere incorrectness of diction in my evidence which gave a wrong sense, as if it was an intentional or gross ignorance of mine. ** T said the esprit du corps of portrait-painting became embodied by the Royal Academy, and killed Hussey, and embarrassed Hogarth, This reads as if the Royal Academy killed Hussey, who died long before it was founded, whereas I meant the esprit du corps killed him. “It was too gross to suppose I am so ignorant of Hussey’s period; but Shee chuckled over this, and Phillips, Wilkins, Hilton, 1836] EWART’S FINE ARTS COMMITTEE 605 Hilton, and Howard laughed inwardly with a delight at having caught Haydon napping which was pitiable to see. ‘“* Conscious I had all three of the Committee of 1809 in the vice, I smiled, and was dead silent. It was quite a scene. Shee went on, reading the diploma, and verbiaging away; Ewart repeatedly begging him to be concise. At last began his examina- tion. ‘ Do you think Academies beneficial or no?’ ‘ Extremely beneficial.” ‘Do you think the Academy is conducted with a feeling for justice?’ ‘ Certainly.’ ‘ Do you think it justice that 600 artists should be kept out on varnishing days?’ ‘ Certainly. This is one of the privileges of the Academy.’ ‘So may say Mahomet Ali when he bowstrings a minister. ““Do you think forty enough?’ ‘Certainly. I know no man of great genius out of the Academy.’ ‘ Do you not think Mr Martin,’ etc. ‘ Certainly, Mr Martin is most respectable,’ etc. And so it went on; blind to all genuine principle—seeing only the Academy and its bounded circle and including all that was great, illustrious, or immortal within its walls. He seemed like a man who was asleep amidst the stirring activity of mind abroad in the people. All he saw was the Academy and its members. He then again abused me for saying the Academy was founded on the basest intrigue, and mentioned Reynolds, Chambers, West, and Paul Sandby, as men whose characters were a security, when four more intriguing old rascals never lived. Why, the Academy obliged Reynolds to resign because he intrigued, they said, to get in Bonomi to please Lord Aylesford. Farringdon was a thoroughbred intriguer. “* Shee said the Academy as a body had appealed to the King about High Art, and no answer was returned. Mr Ewart asked him if he knew Waagen’s opinion of Academies. Shee im- prudently said he did not, and he must have higher authority than Mr Ewart’s for his having an opinion against the Academy. This was gross. Mr Ewart ordered the committee clerk to give in Waagen’s evidence, wherein he read to Shee, with gusto, Waagen’s opinion:—that he considered Academies destructive; that Academicians became portion of the State; that it had been known that men of medium talent had obtained employment and dis- tinction who were Academicians, while men who had not, though of the greatest genius, had struggled on in poverty and without employment. ‘There was I, a living instance, and was not the whole scene a scene of retribution? ‘The very men, the very hangers—Shee, Phillips, and Howard—who twenty-nine years ago used me so infamously in hanging Dentatus in the dark,— by which all my prospects were blasted for ever,—at which Lord Mulgrave so complained,—were now at the bar before me like VOL. I1.—39 culprits 606 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1836 culprits under examination. How Sir George would have relished this! *“ Ah, little did they think in the despotism of their power that I, a poor student at their mercy, would ever have the power to do this—to bring them face to face—to have them examined— ransacked—questioned—tracked. “* Ah, they are deservedly punished ! “ Fuly 18th—Idle, and lectured at the Milton, a delightful theatre—cool. I felt like a lion and read like one. “* r9th.—Attended the Committee; the impression Shee had made was decidedly unfavourable to his cause. Sir John Paul was examined, and gave very interesting evidence as to the state of design in manufacture. ** Sir John alluded to the fact that he had casts of some ancient tombs, and that he had given them to stone masons; and that the people preferred them, and chose them for the tombs of their friends. Here Mr Hope, with his peculiar delicate and dry manner, asked Sir John Paul if the shares in the Cemetery Company were not high. He said they were. Sir John was a director. “Old Landseer was examined; but he was prolix and flowery. He quoted Shee against himself as to Academies, and made some good hits. “The Committee will do immense good. Would any man believe that Hussey was living in 177421! And Shee is the man to accuse me of ignorance of dates! ** 20th.—Went to the British Museum, and found two interest- ing pamphlets connected with the Royal Academy, by which it appears decidedly that the directors who were expelled from the chartered body of artists became Academicians, and that not being able to carry their exclusive intentions in the constituent body, they resorted to the scheme of an Academy of forty, securing a majority of their own way of thinking, that they might enact their exclusive laws. This is indisputable from Strong’s pamphlet, 1775, and another in the Museum, 1771, entitled ‘ Considerations of the Behaviour of the Academicians who were expelled the Chartered Body for 1760-69.’ ‘““ Reynolds promised the chartered body, of which he was member, not to exhibit with the expelled directors; but finding the King protecting them, he broke his word—did exhibit—and was expelled the incorporated body. This is not known, nor did I know it till to-day. ‘Tickled by a knighthood, he joined the directors, and this was the origin of the Royal Academy— founded in intrigue, based on injustice, treachery and meanness. 1 The Royal Academy having been founded in 1768. * Dalton 1836] FORMATION OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY 607 ‘“‘ Dalton seems to have been a great scoundrel, and he was a prime instrument. ‘“* Reynolds was properly and very severely punished after, but the art has suffered ever since. ‘* 21st.—Shee objects to a constituency on the grounds that it would produce all the evils that it did before. Whatevils? What were the evils? These were the evils: ‘Twenty-four directors got in and kept in. The constituency complained, and passed a bye-law to make eight go out. The Attorney-General, Grey, gave it as his opinion that the bye-law was consistent with the charter. ‘The directors had promised to abide by the opinion of the Attorney-General, and then refused. Sixteen of these worthies were voted out, and became Academicians, and eight more joined them, and these formed the bulk of the Academy; so that the evils complained of were not evils proceeding from a constituency, but because the laws of that constituency had been violated. ‘Therefore, if the people who were conducting were improper people, these people founded the Academy, and brought all their improprieties into the Academy, and are the origin of the evils which we complain of and which Sir Martin fears would be revived by a constituency, though these very evils were produced in spite of a constituency and not in conse- quence of it. So much for Sir Martin. “Sir Martin knows well that he and all of his colleagues are benefiting by the very evils he affects to apprehend, for if they were improper people who took the lead, he is the produce and offspring. “* 25th.—Finished the fair copy of my first lecture and im- proved it much, but idle from exceeding harass about trifles. Lord Audley has completely deceived me about his resources; after telling me he was the richest peer, it turns out he is the poorest. I fear his honour and his character. ‘* 29th.—The artists do not know the origin of this Committee. All are claiming the honour. They all deserve to share it—Foggo, Rennie, and all. But the morning Lord Melbourne was sitting to me, he had just sent out his circular letters about municipal corporations. I said: ‘ Why not give us a committee for the Academy?’ He replied: ‘ You may have one if you like’; and this is the real origin. “* 30th.—Out the whole day on bitter pecuniary harass, and yet all trifles, £4, 10s., £8, 10s., £13, 4s., £10, £3, 1os., £4, 8s., and suffered all my old agonies of torture as to probable ruin, inter- ruption of the education of my dear children, loss of my property. If I could stick at my pictures I would not care, but Lord Audley has played me so shabby a trick that I fear, unless protected by ae 608 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1836 my Great Creator, in whom I trust, the consequence may be ruin. “These Journals testify that whenever I have been. free, I have flown to my canvas as a relief and a blessing. The Mock Election was the fruits of the peace I enjoyed in 1827. The Chairing the result of George IV.’s purchase. In fact, if I had £500 a year regularly, never would I cease painting, morning, noon, or night, and never have a debt. “ August 30th——Awoke at four with a terrific conception of Quintus Curtius, after a sublime dream. I dreamt I was with the Duke of Wellington near the sea. I stripped. It was a grand storm. I plunged in, and swam as I used in my youth. I saw an enormous wave rising, curling and black. Suddenly I found my Mary close to me. We were both looking at the sublime wave as it rolled towards us; at last it came quite close. I told her to hold tight. She smiled, rosy red. At the instant it was overwhelming us, a terrific flash of lightning broke from its top, and it roared in by us to the left without even wetting us. We saw it stretch in its gurgling sweeping glory on the beach, and break harmless. I awoke, and the moment consciousness came over me, Quintus Curtius darted into my head. This is a true description—exactly as I dreamt it—not added to, nor taken from. “‘ I know a storm is approaching, but I feel I shall weather it, under God. Success! Amen. “* September 5th—Worked, but in an agony; at two I had a promise to keep for £8 without a farthing; at four for {£5 without ahalfpenny. I paid away £8 on Saturday. ‘““ T worked on tillone. Lunched. Drove away in an omnibus, and got till Saturday for the £8, and put off the £5 till Wednesday. I rushed home and worked. “* 6th.—Hard at work, and:-succeeded in the foreshortened figure. At one time of the day my anxieties were hideous. I had not a farthing, and taking down some valuable Italian books worth five guineas, I sent them by my ‘ fidus Achates ’ and got 7s. In the interval I worked away in great torture, and succeeded. ‘There is a period in working, when the result is not secure, that is excruciating. No wealth or honour would relieve or ease you. If it turns out successfully in the end no torture is felt, but if you miss it no happiness is remembered. * gth—At breakfast with the dear children a timid tingle of the bell made us all look anxiously. A whisper in the hall, and then the servant entered with: ‘ Mr Smith, sir, wishes to see you.’ I went, and was taken in execution. After lingering two days at Davis’s lock-up house, Red Lion Square, on the 12th I was moved again to that blessed refuge of the miserable—the Bench. ** Newton 1836] IN THE BENCH AGAIN 60g ‘‘ Newton, my landlord, offered to pay me out. I refused, and proceeded to prepare for the Court directly. Rather than go out to endure the horror this Journal gives evidence of, I’d stay here for ever. ‘““My landlord took possession and moved away my brushes and grinding-stone. ‘Took the things at £133, 10s., paid the difference and took the rest for his rent. ‘What a fight it is! It is wonderful how my health is pre- served, and my dear Mary’s too. But trusting in God and doing our utmost to please Him, I have not the least doubt of carrying my great object—a vote for money for Art, and perhaps I shall then sink without tasting its fruits. “From 14th to 30th in prison. ‘“ Read Wraxall’s two works with very great interest. Relieved my mind much after the harass of lawyers, insults of turnkeys, and torture of suspense. My mind in a state of blank apathy. Oh, God, in Thee I trust. “‘ October 1st—I heard from Ewart yesterday, and I fear the report. ‘The fact is the Whigs arrest the keen edge of the scalping- knife of reform which the people have put into their heads. ‘They will hesitate, and be content with pricking the corruption which ought to be probed, and the humours let out. ‘ toth—The last time I was here I fell in with Dr Mackay, who negotiated the commercial treaty with South America for Canning, and as we used to walk about by night in the racket- ground, he detailed to me the interesting particulars. ‘* Now I have got acquainted with , a species the Continent alone produces, dissolute and impious, unprincipled and reckless, full of talent and full of diplomacy, speaking seven languages— just such a man as Napoleon would have seized, and turned to every purpose on earth. ‘“ He says he was chef d’escadron in the Garde du Corps, and private secretary to the Duc d’Angouléme. “He is evidently possessed of State papers of great importance —how, he told me in a moment of drunkenness. He is evidently connected with, if not first mover of, the Portfolio. ‘““He showed me documents which prove he was acquainted with Fieschi’s attempt. He has shown me a deed signed most sacredly by three, two Spaniards and one Englishman, Richard Sheridan,whereby £5000 sterling is guaranteed to the Spaniards for the invention of a shell and machine which was to destroy Don Carlos. He has also shown me a letter from the Carlton Club, offering £3000 for some letters he has. “I believe it. And does not this prove how cautious Ministers should be! I believe him to have got by the means he told me the 610 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1836 the whole State papers already published in the Porifolio, and what he showed me (affidavits about Fieschi) is coming out in the next number. We shall see. “* 24th.—The faces here are horrid; last night, all of a sudden, just after midnight, a roar as of fiends burst out from the racket- ground, and awakened me. Good God, on a Sunday !—swearing, fighting, cursing, drinking, gambling, and strumpeting! What an offering to the Almighty for the blessings of life! “ King’s Bench, Oct. 26, 1836. “ Ah, Sir Robert Peel, I told you I was convinced my absurd } conduct about the Napoleon had staggered me, and would be the seed of future embarrassment, and here I am again, less in debt than ever I was in my life, yet, being unable to meet in time the balance due, a victim to that cursed law of imprisonment. “When a man touches my property it is just, and I always exert my resources to pay the claim, but when he seizes my person, I let the law take its course, and ever will. ““T shall begin the world again with no more property left after thirty-two years’ struggle than the clothes on my back. ‘““T appeal to you if I have been idle since my last troubles. I have never incurred in all my life a debt of vice, debauchery, or extravagance, and I have been brought to earth by a combination of circumstances. I assure you I calculated on receiving more from you. I could not keep my engagements, and then came, as usual, law costs. “Since 1830 I have paid, because I could not keep my word, £303, 8s. 6d. in pure cash, or rather impure. On one debt of £7, 1os., I paid £8, 10s. costs—the son being the lawyer, who acknowledges the father shared all costs. So that, first, there was the father’s just profit, and then he received £4, 5s. as his share of the legal spoliation. ‘While I was in confinement in Red Lion Square I saw them go by in their carriages. J was the dishonourable, they the respectable. “In the never-closing and inexorable eye of our Maker, who was the veal dishonourable here ? “IT am, Sir Robert Peel, “ Your grateful servant, “ B. R. Haypon. “The Right Hon. Sir Robert Peel, etc. etc.”’ ‘‘ 27th—An accomplished Frenchman came to my rooms to see my works. ‘I have none.’ ‘Where are they?’ ‘My 1 After naming {100 as his price for the whole length in answer to Sir Robert Peel’s inquiry, he felt discontented that more was not paid him, and wrote to ask for an additional sum. Sir Robert paid him £30, but naturally was annoyed. Solomon 1836] A LEARNED HEAD TURNKEY 611 Solomon is rotting in a carpenter’s shop, my Lazarus in a kitchen.’ ‘When I found you were here, I thought it was for your pleasure. It is extraordinary. Why does not Palmerston do something? ’ “ He has done something.’ *“““Tt is wonderful you are here.’ ‘ Not at all. May I ask to whom I have the honour of speaking?’ ‘ Neavare mind: Edmund Burke introduced me to Reynolds.’ ‘ Will you call again?’ ‘Iwill. Have youno work toshow me?’ ‘ Xenophon, at the Russell Institution; and read the report on Art.’ ‘My friend,’ said he, ‘ you will neavare make this trading nation love high Art.’ ‘ My friend,’ said I, ‘Tl try. ‘ You will run your head against a wall.’ ‘Perhaps I may knock the wall down.’ He lifted up his hands and eyes, and looked at me as if looking through the devil. “* 29th.—One evening while I was sitting by myself came a knock. I opened the door, and the head turnkey (who is a worthy man, for I have found him feeding the poor prisoners from his own table), after making sundry apologies, begged a few minutes’ conversation. He sidled in and sat down, big with something. ‘Perhaps, sir,’ said he, taking out and putting across his knee a blue cotton handkerchief, ‘ you would scarcely suppose that from seven years old divinity and medicine have been my passions.’ ‘Certainly not, Mr Colwell.’ ‘ Ah, sir, tis true, and I know, I assure you, much more than most of the doctors or parsons. Why, sir, you would little think I always cured the cholera. You may wonder, but it is a fact. I never lost a case, and in twenty-four hours they were as well as ever. I do it all by Aarbs, Mr Haydon, by harbs. You are a public man—a man of genius, as they say, and perhaps you will laugh at a man like me knowing anything. But, sir,’ said he, looking peculiarly sagacious and half knowing, yet trembling lest I should quiz, ‘ I gather my plants under the planets—aye, and it is wonder- ful the cures I perform. Why there is Lord Wynford, he is as bent as an old oak, and if he’d listen to me I’d make him as straight as a poplar.’ ‘ No, Mr Colwell!’ ‘I would though,’ he said in a loud voice, reassured on finding I did not laugh. ‘““ By this time he had got courage. He assured me that he was blessed in a wife who believed in him, and that he had cured her often and often, and here his weather-beaten face quivered. ‘Ah, Mr Colwell,’ said I, ‘ your wife is a good, motherly woman. It’s a comfort to me to see her face among the others here.’ Colwell got solemn; assured me he had out-argued Taylor, the atheist, before the people; that he had undoubted evidence Joseph of Arimathea landed at Glastonbury, for at that time the sea came all up to the abbey, and what was to hinder him? seed sal 612 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1336 said he, ‘ Mr Haydon, would you believe it? —drawing his chair closer, and wiping his mouth with his blue handkerchief, which he spread over his short thighs, that poked out, as it were, from under his belly—‘ would you believe it, I can prove Abraham was circumcised the very day before Sodom and Gomorrah were burnt!’ “Will you take a glass of wine, Mr Colwell?’ I replied. Colwell had no objection, and smacking his lips as he rose, said he would look in again, and bring me some books which would tell me all; but now he must go to 14 in Io to give the gentleman his chum-ticket. I attended my guest to my little entrance, and he wished me good-night, looking an inch taller, perfectly con- vinced he had made an impression and would certainly have a convert. ‘“‘ When he came in he seemed labouring with deep thoughts, and he left me as if relieved, as if he had done his duty. He was the first man I saw in 1823 when I paid my fees. ‘The hideous look of his dark globular eyes, one of them awry like Irving’s, gave me a horror. He looked a periect Schidone; but I have caught him in perpetual acts of benevolence, where he little thought any eye would find him out. “There is not a worthier heart, and never was a rougher case for it. Strange to find such sensibilities in a gaol. ‘ 30th. —My dearest love came in nervous dejection, and left me to-day affected like herself. ‘his is one of those occasional variations in the feelings of those who love with all their hearts. “* November 2nd.—Did not do much, but thought deeply. The quiet I have enjoyed here has done my brain great good. ‘“* November 11th.—A poor gentleman, called Phillips, a writer to the signet, a prisoner in consequence of Lord ——’s irregularity, as much as I am from Lord Audley’s, dropped dead in his room last night. He had a mild, benevolent countenance, and was detained by a rich man from mere vindictiveness. “It might have been thought that such an awful event would have stopped the levity of the vicious and thoughtless: not it. Gambling, swearing, and drinking went on as usual, and last night, when I was musing (like Byron after the assassination of the Austrian commander) on life and death, the bloods and black- guards of the place were singing duets outside my doors at midnight. ‘“‘ A prison is a perfect world compressed into a narrow space. “** In the midst of life we are in death.’ ““ 12th—Read Byron’s Life by Moore. ‘To-day was the last day for opposition, and when the books closed at four there was none. God be thanked; and God of His mercy restore me to my 1836] | SCENES IN THE BENCH : DISCHARGED 613 my glorious pursuit, and my dearest Mary and children before the week is out; with deep gratitude for the unexpected mercies to my dear family and myself during my imprisonment. “ 14th—Lord came in prisoner, and brought a beautiful boy with him. ‘There he was in the coffee-house, sinless and innocent, watching his papa smoking and sipping brandy and water, up at eleven o’clock, when the dear ought to have been sleeping in bed. I watched him with the feelings of a father. That child will have his horror of a gaol weakened for ever. Yet there was something interesting in seeing a fine young man keep- ing his dear boy close to him. He would have him sleep by his side. ‘There was something peculiarly innocent in the look of the boy with his white collar. ‘““On Saturday, an old man dies and is opened; on Monday comes in the son of a noble Lord with his innocent boy. “ 16¢2.—The English are base-minded, where money is wanted or rank concerned. ‘They reverence rank from the belief that wealth is the consequence of it. But when they have evidence wealth is wanting, away goes at once all respect for my Lord. ‘ Last night, Lord ——— set all the prisoners agape. One must go out of his room, for my Lord wanted three beds; another was applied to for one thing, a third for another. This morning the bill was presented as usual, for all bills are paid here daily. His Lordship looked astonished, said a bill was a nuisance, and as soon as his friend came again he would leave {£5 with the landlord, and when it was out he must tell him. “The evidence that my Lord had’no money was palpable, and immediately my Lord fell 50 per cent. ‘““ 17th.—I went up to Court to-day, and was treated with the greatest humanity. Commissioner Law seemed by his face to have the greatest sympathy. He looked feeling all over. He never asked me a single question, and the whole Court hastened my discharge with the rapidity of lightning. “I trust in God this will be the last time I shall ever need such protection again. “* 18th.—Returned once more to my dear home. I opened the Bible, which I found on the chimney-piece, and at once came to that wonderful blessing and cursing in the 28th chapter of Deuteronomy. ‘20th Went to church, and returned thanks with all my heart and all my soul for the great mercies of God to me and my family during my imprisonment. ‘* 21st.—Routed out all my plaster figures, to have the room cleaned, which has not been done for two years. Hope to be ready by to-morrow night. Wrote Law, and thanked him for his sympathy and firmness. Gone. 614 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1836 ‘““ 22nd.—Got all ready in the plaster-room. Now for the painting-room. ‘* 23rd.—Cleared out and rearranged my desert-room. ‘* 24th.—My landlord returned my brushes and grinding-stone. Picked up a second-hand carpet to cover the room. Ordered a canvas, sent half the money for it to Brown, a worthy fellow, who abused me to my man for not settling £4, 15s. (the last balance). Fitz quieted him, and he promised canvas Saturday night. Poor Brown, he shall have his money as soon as I begin to get on. Brown and I have been connected for thirty years, and have had about forty regular quarrels. He is sulky and coarse, I am violent and unflinching. It ends by his trying to smile through the sulkiness of his honest face. “* 28th.1—Did a great deal of preparatory business. Paid off a scoundrel of a lawyer. 1 The following advertisement refers to his affairs at the time of this imprisonment. ‘* Mr Haydon begs leave to inform his creditors, that, out of the £1220, 6s. 6d. correctly stated as the amount of debt incurred since 1830, £550 must be deducted as renewed liabilities from before 1830, and, again, £84, 14s. 6d. must be further deducted for the fictitious debt of law cost: the real balance is thus brought to £586, 14s. 6d., all of which could have been cleared off in another year, as Mr Haydon had paid off more than that sum during the previous year. It has been a matter of astonishment to Mr Haydon why he should never have been persecuted with law from eighteen years of age to thirty-four, a period of greater struggle than any since, and he attributes it to a suspicion among London tradesmen that he saved and secured a large sum of money from the great receipts of his Entry into Jerusalem. There never was a more absurd belief—the receipts were nearly £3000, the expenses of the exhibition were £1100; the picture had taken six years, and the painter was supported through it entirely by loans ; the balance of receipts was paid away, and did not liquidate one-half of them. Mr Haydon has been told this idea got abroad ; there is certainly no other way of accounting for the immediate rush of law cost which has brought him four times to the earth, for the first proceeding took place at this time. Mr Haydon incurred From 1820 to 1823 lawcosts . ; iar 6 eS From 1823 to 1830, ditto. ; : 1450 Oo From 1830 to 1836, ditto. : : 11g 6as BS Altogether LANG: Oyo (An actual independence.) “London tradesmen are generous men if they think they are not imposed on. Mr Haydon appeals to them if they consider it was a reasonable way of enabling him to earn the means of paying his debts to suddenly lock him up, and keep him useless to himself and family for ten weeks, and all for a debt of £30, 15s. 6d.? after, too, he had paid all of £947 received this year, but 4s. 6d., the actual sum he possessed in the world when arrested. Mr Haydon is now beginning the world again after thirty-two years of struggle, but he does not despair of doing all he ought, if treated in future with more common sense and common discretion.” “ oth. 1836] A LETTER TO HIS LANDLORD 615 ““ 29th—Set my palette to-day, the first time these eleven weeks and three days. I relished the oil; could have tasted the colour; rubbed my cheeks with the brushes, and kissed the palette. Ah! could I be let loose in the House of Lords! “I hope to return to my pursuits under the blessing of my Creator. My conscience will never be clear till I have paid all I owe, for though the law protects me, the debts are still debts of honour.” During the beginning of December he was working at the heroine of Saragossa and Falstaff reproving Prince Hal, for Mr Hope. I insert the following letter, because I think it really throws light on the writer’s character. It should be remembered, in reading it, that it was addressed by Haydon to his landlord, W. Newton, from whom he was in the constant receipt of singular kindnesses, who forbore to press him for heavy arrears of rent, who was always ready to advance him money in his worst emer- gencies, and who was not to be provoked into harshness even by this letter. Nay, he did not even jump at this notice to quit! The letter appears to me to be one which could not have come from a man with the views usually prevalent about money obliga- tions. Such a tone taken by a debtor to his creditor indicates altogether peculiar notions of these relations, and explains to me many passages in Haydon’s life into which money transactions entered. ““ London, 21st December, 1836. ““My dear Newton, “Mary came home last night with the usual quantity of gossip and scandal, of which you possess so abundant a fund. “It seems it is who has told you that falsehood of my having given six lectures at the Milton and received 20 guineas, whereas I only gave three lectures and received Io guineas, {10 of which I brought you next day, explaining I had only received half, though given to understand it would be all—which f1o I borrowed of you again, £5 at a time. ‘‘ And this is the way to excuse your own abominable cruelty in doing your best to add to the weight of degradation and misery I have suffered by insinuating to my wife these abominable lies. ‘‘T am ashamed to use so gross a word, but your forgetfulness, your confusion of memory, your jumbling one thing with another, your making me write notes when harassed with want, which I forgot to reclaim, and then your bringing them forward again when it suits your convenience, provoke me to it. ‘* Don’t talk to me of your affection. Pooh! To let a friend come out of prison after ten weeks locking up—degraded in character—calumniated and tortured in mind—to let him come to what had hitherto been the solace of all his distresses (his painting- room) 616 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1836 room) stripped of all that rendered it delightful, and stripped, too, under the smiling pretences of friendship, and under the most solemn assurances that everything would be returned, and then, on the very morning I came home, when one would have thought all beastly feelings of interest would have been buried in the pleasure of welcoming me back, at such a moment to break your word, and to add to my forlorn wretchedness, by refusing to keep it, is a disgrace to your heart and understanding, and will be even after you are dead, as well as while you are living. Had I known the extent of what you had been guilty of, I would have scorned to receive the balance of Sampson. It was only when I came home I saw what you had done. ‘““ However, Mrs Haydon says, if I will only say you shall not be a loser, the pictures and sketches shall come back directly. I told you so in prison, and still tell you so now. You know that : but your delight is the delight of the tiger over his prey, not to kill at once, but to play with your victim. I tell you again you shall not be a loser. Now keep your word with Mrs Haydon and send back the things. I did not intend to say a word more, but as this proposition to Mrs Haydon is not unreasonable, to oblige her I say you shall not be a loser. “Put this among your collection and bind them up. Now you have made a step and I have made a step. I’ll be frank; a threat is always the last refuge of a coward. I do not threaten— but if the things (pictures and sketches) are not all in my painting- room by Friday night (I allude only to those you took away with the last books you returned), without any asperity, or any un- grateful impertinence, or any wish to wound a kind-hearted (at bottom) old friend, but solely on the principle of justice to myself and family, with a wish still to retain our affection, on Saturday I shall be guilty of the violence to my own heart of giving you notice to quit, according to the terms of our lease, at Midsummer next, but as soon as possible before. ‘““T am, dear Newton, “Yours truly and affectionately, ‘Mr Newton.”’ “B. R. Haypbon. The kind Newton (though he made show of sending a notice on his part) did not accept this notice to quit. He sends two notes in answer, written not with ink but with very milk of human kindness. Was ever reminder more gently conveyed, passion more effectually disarmed, or undeserved reproach more completely turned back upon the reproacher, than by these short replies? “© Dear Haydon, “*T shall send the pictures and sketches to you to-day, if possible. ““Mrs Haydon spoke of the sketch of the Widow’s Son as though it had been received with the last things brought away. I referred 1836] A KIND LANDLORD : WILKIE 617 I referred to your note that came with it, and others, to assure Mrs Haydon how it came into my possession, and the only convenience your note can be of to me is to bring them forward to rectify any misunderstanding. This, and your promissory notes (stamped and unstamped) being unpleasant truths, I suppose you call scandal: of them I have an abundant fund. “«T will write you about the lease. “* Yours truly, ““W. F. NEWTON. ‘22d December, 1836.’ ““* Dear Haydon, «The old fashion compliments of the season. A merry Christmas and a happy new year and many of them is my sincere wish to you and yours, and I hope you are as free from ill-will to anyone as I am. “*T have yet to learn what act of mine is considered an insult to yourself, but as I am certain I am incapable of offering one, I give myself little trouble about it. _ “© Thanks for your good wishes, and the ticket for the lectures, of which I have omitted to acknowledge the receipt. “* Yours truly, bis WY iv bet UE EEOM a, ‘* December 22nd.—Called on Wilkie after a long absence. He seemed much annoyed at my saying in my evidence, that he had been frightened at being seen with me in the streets after my attack on the Academy. I told him it was true, which he did not deny, because it was. We had breakfasted on a Sunday with Seguier after the attack, and on coming out he said, ‘It will not be right to be seen with you,’ and he went away. | explained to him, that I mentioned the fact to illustrate the con- dition of abjectness to which English art had been reduced by such a man as he being terrified by my attack. “The fact is, he is sore, for since the appearance of my evidence he has been quizzed, “* He was occupied with several interesting subjects—Sir David Baird finding Tippoo, Mary Queen of Scots’ escape, Cottar’s Saturday Night, and an English Bridal Morning—all of which he is as fit for as his footman. What a pity it is he has left the style for which he is eminently qualified. He seemed bitterly to lament my attacks on the Academy. He said, ‘ Ah, you would have been an old Academician years ago, had all your pictures well hung, and there would have been no disputes.’ Poor dear Wilkie! ok asked him about his knighthood. He said the King said to him, ‘Is your name David?’ ‘Yes, your Majesty.’ ‘Are you sure it is not Saul?’ said the King. This was very well. ** Wilkie 618 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1836 “Wilkie described his feelings after like a child. We had a very interesting conversation. In the middle of all sorts of groans at my rebel apostasy suddenly he would say, of something in his picture, in the exact tone of former days, ‘Haydon, I think that ought to be dark.’ I then would put up my finger, as we used to do, and say, ‘ Certainly, it wants deepening.’ ‘Then at it we would go again, and I would say, ‘ You want blue—as a bit of relief.” ‘Ah, but wouldn’t that destroy candle-light?’ ‘ No, it would add.’ I then told him I was painting Saragossa, and wanted Spanish dresses. He rang the bell, and got me all I wanted. To show the villany of printsellers—he had never seen the heroine of Saragossa, though she was advertised as having sat to him for his picture of the same subject. “* T reproached Wilkie with his utter neglect of me in my mis- fortunes, his never calling to see me in prison, or to chat with or console my wife. ‘These are unpardonable things, but a result of the same timidity of character. I said, in allusion to some- thing, ‘Would you bear this?’ ‘Of course,’ said he. ‘Why,’ said I, ‘ what a deal you must bear.’ ‘ To be sure,’ said Wilkie. He then lamented I had not consulted him before attacking the Academy—bitterly—as if he would have stopped me. ‘““ We parted good friends as ever, and I was much interested. In his art he has certainly gone back; in colour he is yellow and heavy, and Frenchy in his life works. ‘““ He seemed croaking as to the little prospect of public en- couragement. But as I know the King approved of designs in the House of Lords, I shrewdly suspect master David has an eye that way. “ 23rd, 24th—Lectured last night with the greatest applause. Was heartily welcomed. My dear landlord and I will separate, I fear. Nettled at my perseverance in resenting his insult, he has given me notice to quit,! which I shall do; for I had become a slave to his caprice, from suffering myself to become too de- pendent on his assistance. I shall feel his want, and he is the last man I shall ever allow myself to be attached to. “Poor Newton! I shall miss your kind heart and honest face. He never would have acted so if his friends had not become jealous. “* 318t.—The last day of 1836. A year of bitter sorrow—great promise—great mercy—shocking disappointment—but a glorious victory. “I have lost more time in this year than in any before during my life from eighteen years old. I began several pictures, and 1 This was mere “brutum fulmen,’? and never enforced. Haydon died in the house in 1846. h ave 1836-37] LECTURING 619 have finished none. I have never had so many unfinished pictures at once in all my life. ‘In all my troubles I have had reason to be deeply grateful. My children are improved and good. My eldest boy has un- doubted and high genius, and my dear Mary is spared to me in health and happiness. In fact I can’t be low-spirited. I can’t complain. I have a tendency to feel my heart warm towards my good Creator under all circumstances, and think life a blessing even in a prison.” 1837 There was little in this year of Haydon’s history to call for particular remark, if it be not the unusual absence of money cares and embarrassments. This was owing to his lectures, the delivery of which in London, Liverpool, Manchester, Birming- ham, Leeds, Hull, and other of our large towns, brought him in the means of supporting his family, while it gratified his strong craving for personal display, and for assertion of his views about Art. As I have said before, these lectures have been published; and any elaborate account of them therefore would be out of place here. The published ones are twelve in number—on the state and prospects of British Art; on the skeleton; on the muscles; on the standard figure of the Greeks; on composition; on colour; on invention in Art; on Fuseli; on Wilkie; on the effect of societies of literature and Art on public taste; on a competent tribunal in Art; on fresco-painting; on the Elgin marbles; on the theory of the beautiful. In the course of his lecturings Haydon gained many acquaint- ances and friends. His strong enthusiasms and his passionate and picturesque expression of them had commanded attention at all times of his life, and now drew about him many of the more ardent natures in each town. It was thus that he obtained this year at Liverpool, through the recommendation of his friend Lowndes, a commission to paint a picture of Christ blessing little Children, for the church of the Blind Asylum. “Fanuary 2nd.—Spent yesterday at Hamilton’s. Read a lecture to-night to some society at 16 Tower Street—to my infinite amusement at the intense attention paid to me by a set of dirty-faced journeymen and two servant girls. I had promised a young attorney to do so, and kept my word. It is extraordinary to think of. “When I really made a good hit, I saw all the room nodding. It was an eating-house till six, when the master (a member) cleared 620 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1837 cleared out for a lecture, and lent it for nothing. The company filled the boxes, and I was placed at the head on two or three boards. ‘“* IT was shown up into a library where was a likeness of ‘Tom Paine. I saw I was in a scrape. If that had been the room, I would have insisted that the fiend should be taken down, or I would have left the room. This comes of promising young attornies, to soften costs, without inquiring character. ** 3rd, 4th, and 5th.—Finished my tenth lecture. ‘To-morrow I read it. ** 6th.—Delivered it with great applause. ‘““ Met Ewart yesterday in the streets. He told me all was going wrong with the School of Design. Poulett Thomson had made the Council exclusively academical. Chantrey took the lead, and had utterly ruined it. ‘To-day I called on Rennie and had all the particulars. “The Council has resolved, first, that the figure shall not be the basis of the education; secondly, that every student who enters the School of Design shall be obliged to sign a declaration not to practise either as historical painter, portrait painter, or landscape painter! “‘ toth.—In very great irritation about this perversion of the School of Design, and was going to give Chantrey a thorough dressing. But now comes the question. Shall Ido good? Will it be right for me to stop, or ought I to go on? If a blow be struck, their proceedings will be checked at the beginning. If not checked they’ll take root. Burke said to Barry, ‘ You will find the same contests in London and in Paris, and if they have the same effect on your temper, they will have the same effect on your interest.’ “It keeps one in such continual hot water. I complain that writing my lectures hurts my pictorial mind, and I really would give the world never to be disturbed again, but to keep myself in tranquillity and peace, pursuing my delightful art. “* y1th—Worked slightly, but advanced. Wrote Lord Mel- bourne, telling him the whole conduct of Poulett Thomson. ‘* y4th.—Saw Poulett Thomson to-day. I told him that I had heard that a resolution had been passed that no student of the School of Design would be admitted unless he signed a declara- tion that he would not practise history, portrait, or landscape. He denied it, and said, ‘ Who has been telling you these stories?’ “But has it been passed?’ No reply. I told him I had heard it was resolved that the study of the figure was not necessary. ‘ And is it,’ he said, ‘ to fellows who design screens?’ My God! what would Aristotle have said to this, after declaring the study of 1837] THE SCHOOL OF DESIGN 621 of design increases the perceptions of beauty? I did not say ‘You ought to know it is,’ as he ought. “T then burst out and told him the figure was the basis of all design, of which he seemed totally incredulous. He said he would consult Eastlake and Cockerell. I told him Eastlake and Cockerell were good men and true, but timid. I told him he had selected Chantrey, the greatest bust-maker on earth, but the most incompetent person to judge of principles of Art. He had no invention, no knowledge of principles; and I understood that when Mr Bellenden Ker said, ‘ We must first settle the principle of the thing,’ he said, ‘ As to principle, I have been thirty years in the art, and have never got hold of a principle yet.’ ““* It is very improper,’ said Thomson, ‘for gentlemen to talk thus to you of the Council.’ ‘I tell you,’ said I, ‘ no gentleman has talked to me: I have seen none.’ “I said, ‘Is it consistent with the principles of Lord Mel- bourne’s Government to make a Council wholly academical? ’ ‘ I selected the best artists; Calcott is the best landscape painter, and Chantrey, surely, at the head of his profession.’ ‘No; he is not,’ I replied. ‘ Who is higher?’ ‘ Surely Westmacott has done more poetical things than Chantrey, and so has Bailey; and why are not Martin and Rennie on the Council?’ ‘ What pre- tensions has Rennie?’ ‘ He does the naked, and is a judge of what is necessary for a school of design.’ ‘ Why is he against the Academy?’ ‘On principle.’ ‘ But he has no subject of complaint.’ ‘’That is the very reason his opinion is valuable, because his objections are on the broad principles of things.’ “** Depend on it, if the figure be not the basis of instruction, it will all end in smoke. The Government will be disgusted, and it will be given up.’ I said, ‘ I have no ultimate object: I have no wish. There are delicacies connected with my misfortunes that make me shy of intruding; but I do think that if you put only Academicians on the Council you will become their tool.’ We then parted. ** T startled, worrited and plagued him. He flattered me, but it would not do; I stuck to my point. ‘* He, like all Whigs, seemed inclined to soften and oil, in order that they might keep their places. “ 17th.—I made a clear statement to Poulett ‘Thomson, proving that the figure was the basis; that the same principle regulated the milk-jug and the heroic limb; that the ellipsis was the basis of Greek Art, and the circle of the Roman; that if the figure was not the basis, the Government money would be thrown away, and the public disappointed. He returned my statements with his compliments. I'll state the same thing on Saturday to the VOL. II.—40 Mechanics, 622 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1837 Mechanics, and we shall see. I offered Thomson my Lecture ‘On a Competent Tribunal and the Taste of the Upper Classes,’ but he did not take the hint. “* 18th—Went to the Bench to-day, and saw -—-—-’s brother, who is a complete character, affecting the diplomatist: he has always ‘a letter to write,’ and ‘ Palmerston is a man that must not be hurried.’ The facts are, he is in debt; can’t pay it; asserts the Government owes him a great deal, and pretends it will pay him. I said to him, ‘ I hope you’ll soon be at work and with your family.’ ‘ Yes,’ said he, with an air of supreme mystery; ‘I dare say it will be settled this session.’ I had a great mind to say, ‘ Does it precede the reform of the Lords?’ I was amazingly struck at the squalidness of the place after being at home and at work in comfort. It was shocking, yet I did not think so when there. After being long there they seem to suffer bitter necessity; after a certain time prisoners are forgotten; poor fellows, they looked like moulting birds. ‘*Poor Lord Audley is dead. He was more the dupe of villains than a villain himself. He died of apoplexy on the 14th inst. I should think the late exposure must have shaken him much. “* 20th.—Lectured at the Mechanics’-—extempore, and with complete success. The audience seemed amazingly impressed with the description of the eagle in Prometheus. “ 25th.—This is my birthday—born 1786—fifty-one years old to-day. At eighteen I surveyed my state of mind for the first time in my life, and have never ceased doing so every year since. ‘““T find now my judgment matured. A conviction at last has arrived that the Deity cannot eradicate evil, and that the mortal can only make a compromise with it. But this is no reason it should not be opposed or checked, resisted or turned aside, if possible. “I find after thirty-three years’ struggle the state of Art certainly with a better prospect; the Academy completely ex- posed; the people getting more enlightened; a School of Design begun; and I more than hope the House of Lords will be adorned with pictures. ““O God! spare my intellect, my eyes, my health, my life to see that accomplished; to see my devotion, my sincerity, my per- severance rewarded and acknowledged; to see my honour proved by the payment of my debts, and my dear family established in virtue and credit, and I will yield my breath with cheering. Amen, with all my soul. <“ February 15th—Worked hard. At the Mechanics’ Institute last night to instruct a class. I thought they would have smothered 1837] AT THE MECHANICS’ INSTITUTE 623 smothered me, they crowded round so with their drawings; the horrors I have suffered come across my mind, when a blaze of anticipated glory swells my soul, just as it did when I began Solomon at twenty-six years old without a guinea. ** Dear Hamilton called, and seemed much pleased.” In April this year Haydon visited Edinburgh, where he lectured with great success, and received from the directors of the Edinburgh Philosophical Association the honour of a public dinner on the 22nd of that month. The following entries in the Journal refer to this visit: “ April 6th.—I left town in the Clarence steamer. Had a furious gale off Flamborough Head; saw many a dandy’s dignity prostrated by sickness; was sick myself, but contrived to keep it secret, and was amazingly impressed by the black and foaming wave, the watery and lowering sky, the screaming gulls, and creaking rigging; while the persevering energy of the steam- paddles, which nothing stopped, gave me a tremendous idea of the power of science contending, as it were, with defying con- tempt against the elements of God. “The gale lulled about noon, and by sunset we were clear, and making way in style. The old piper came on deck, ready to strike up at the first sight of Scotland. We just got a view of the Cheviot Hillis as the sun gleamed out, and up screeched the piper, as if ali the devils of Hades were trying to sing through their noses, while squeezing them with their fingers and thumbs —and yet the sound was original and poetical. ** | had not been in Edinburgh for seventeen years. ‘The town was much altered and improved; Sir Walter and many friends were dead—all grown older—some scattered by disease, and others distressed by poverty. Such is life, or, rather, such is the road that leads to death. ‘““[ began my lectures on the 20th, and was very successful. I brought forward a naked model, and was received with enthusiasm. I have got more hold of the upper classes, because they are con- centrated here; and I think I have had a very great effect. “* 13th.—Went to Holyrood, and bargained with the house- keeper to let me come back by candle-light, and see and walk up the very staircase which Ruthven and Darnley stole up on the night of the murder of Rizzio. It is extraordinary this desire to feel a grand and new sensation. ‘* 15th.—Lectured, and the audience endorsed with applause my attack on the Academy, which was severe. I brought them to this last assault by degrees. ** 16th.—Breakfasted with Mr and Mrs Ireland, a friend of Campbell’s (the poet), who knew him in his boyhood—spoke highly 624 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1837 highly of him, and said he supported two sisters. He feared he (Campbell) had driven his only son mad by too eager desire to advance him—very likely. Men of genius are bad teachers— too quick, too eager, and too violent, if not comprehended.” From Scotland Haydon proceeded by sea to Liverpool, and thence to Leicester, where he lectured to crowded and enthusi- astic audiences. On these occasions Haydon rushed about with his usual im- petuosity. The characters he met, the objects of antiquity or historical interest he saw, the manufactories he visited, are always referred to in the Journals, and he never quitted a place without leaving a strong impression behind him. His lectures seem to have been uniformly successful, though the fierceness of his attacks on the Academy, as might be expected, was not always approved, and the tone of his criticism upon contemporary painters was often complained of as unduly depreciatory. After lecturing at Leicester he returned to town, and thence, on the 16th of May, proceeded to Manchester, of which he says on the 26th: ‘I find Manchester in a dreadful condition as to Art. No School of Design. The young men drawing without instruction. A fine anatomical figure shut up in a box; the housekeeper obliged to hunt for the key. Ili give it to them before I go. “‘ Before I came up I was threatened with vengeance if I alluded to the Academy. I began the first lecture. No hisses. I proceeded last night and got applause.”’ In Manchester he not only lectured, but agitated for the estab- lishment of a School of Design, which was founded the year after. “* Fune 1st-5th —Lecturing till I am sick. I am not happy in Manchester. The associations of these hideous mill-prisons for children destroy my enjoyment in society. ‘The people are quite insensible to it; but how they can go on as they do in all their luxurious enjoyments with those huge factories overhanging them, is most extraordinary. “rth, 18th.—This was imagination. I have since examined large factories—z2000 in one room, and found the children hea!thy and strong, and the room well aired and wholesome.”’ The month of July he spent quietly at Broadstairs with his family, principally for the benefit of his wife’s health, which was now much shaken. ‘* Fuly 6th.—Not being able to pay up my rates in the approach- ing struggle, and keep my love here too, I wrote the Duke of Sutherland, and stated the case. Directly, like a fine fellow as he is, he took two more shares in my Saragossa, which will enable me to doit. Huzza!”’ This 1837] THE MAID OF SARAGOSSA 625 This year her present Majesty came to the throne. Haydon applied, unsuccessfully, as might have been expected, for the appointment of her historical painter. It is amusing to see his affected struggles and doubts, after he had taken this step: ‘* gth—Felt degraded in my own estimation in condescending to ask the Duchess of Sutherland to interfere with the Queen to appoint me her historical painter, with an income like West. If I succeeded, what will become of my liberty? I do it for dear Mary’s sake, as her health is feeble, and any more shocks would endanger her life. “ If the Queen were to say, ‘ Will he promise to cease assaulting the Academy?’ I would reply, ‘If Her Majesty would offer me the alternative of the block, or to cease assaulting, I would choose the block.’ Nous verrons. Nothing will come of it, and secretly I hope nothing may. I have not played my cards well with the Duchess and the Queen. I had a fine moment which I did not press. ‘““ Went up at one—Sunday—with 800 people. Paid my rates and taxes before nine on Monday, and was at Broadstairs at seven the same evening. “The utter recklessness of the Sabbath by the people on board was dreadful—betting, drinking, smoking. ““T was known on board, and addressed; when they knew who I was they began to be profound, which was interesting, considering they were half drunk.” On his return to town at the end of July Haydon got a large canvas on his easel, and began a picture on the subject of the Maid of Saragossa cheering on the besieged in an attack. Wilkie lent him his Spanish costumes for the picture (the subject of which he had himself painted before this), but he could not set to work very cheerfully, for his resources were wellnigh exhausted. Lecturing furnished just enough to keep the wolf from the door, and, as we have seen, it was only by the kindness of his staunch friend the Duke of Sutherland in taking two shares in this picture that he had been enabled to pay his rates and taxes the month before. “ August 6th—Called on Hamilton. He seems desirous I should leave London if I can get advantageous offers. Never. I say, as Johnson says, ‘Give me the full tide of human life at Charing Cross.’ ““~7th—Made an oil-study for my heroine. She must be a Spanish beauty. After all my success this year I have returned to my winter studies with only three sovereigns left. One my wife got to-day for the house, and thus I started the heroine’s head with £2, 1s. 6d. capital. “This is always the way. If the Queen would but grant me a pension 626 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1837 a pension—something to rest upon—I should feel a security of escaping the workhouse. Now I donot. I am nearly fifty-two. I can hardly last eighteen years more, with all I have gone through. “‘ In composition, telling a story, form and expression, I know myself equal to the great men. But in individual painting of heads I am vastly inferior. “This I have yet to accomplish, and accomplish it I will by God’s blessing. “* gth.—Never disregard what your enemies say. ‘They may be severe; they may be prejudiced; they may be determined to see only in one direction, but still in that direction they see clearly. They do not speak all the truth, but they generally speak the truth from one point of view, as far as that goes; attend to them. “* They sneer at my success in lecturing, and say, ‘It is a pity he does not paint more.’ Of course, it is a great pity, considering my deficiencies. That is a sneer [ can and will profit by. ““ toth.—Mr Meek, former secretary to Lord Keith, passed the evening with us, and amused us. He went to Napoleon with Lord Keith when it was announced to him he was to go to St Helena. He said Napoleon kept them standing. His face had a dead, marble look, but became interesting when speaking. He said it was true a man came from London to summon Napoleon to a trial, and chased Lord Keith all day. ““He said, when Napoleon came on board he kept asking everybody whether they were going to St Helena. “‘ 77th. —Studied the whole morning at the British Gallery; Guercino hung between Titian and Tintoretto. It was curious and interesting to study why Guercino was not so high as Titian or Tintoretto. Guercino was of the second crop of Italian genius. He is intrusive, hard, vulgar and gross. Nothing could exceed Titian’s Philip II. It was perfect in drawing, colour and execu- tion; just real enough, without being hard; just execution enough to save it from high finish, and colour enough to prevent its being dull. Nature—nature itself. The ground on which he stands might have been a little lighter to advantage, but if it have not got darker ‘Titian thought otherwise. “ 30th.—In the city to raise money to pay my dear Frank’s schooling. I succeeded, returned fagged, and to work on Mr Hope’s Falstaff and Prince Hal. “Thus ends August. Seventeen and a half days I have worked. Saragossa settled. Now what shall I proceed to finish? Poictiers or Saragossa? ”’ During this month Haydon was writing letters in the Spectator, addressed to Lord John Russell, commenting on the evidence given before Mr Ewart’s Committee, with especial reference to that 1837] LETTER-WRITING IN THE “‘ SPECTATOR’ 627 that of the President of the Academy. It appears to me un- necessary to refer more particularly to these letters, for they contain little but amplifications of topics of attack with which the readers of these Memoirs must be already familiar, and much of the reasoning, even if sound then, has ceased to be applicable to the Academy now. Besides there intrudes in all Haydon’s attacks a personality so bitter as almost to neutralise the truths they contain, and his quarrel with Sir Martin A. Shee has now lost such interest as it may have had at the time. In September Haydon had the great gratification of receiving from the committee of the Asylum for the Blind at Liverpool a commission for a picture on the subject of Christ blessing little Children, for 400 guineas, as a companion to Hilton’s picture already in the church of the Asylum. ‘The offer came in a letter from Mr Lowndes, a munificent patron of the arts in Liverpool, and it was mainly owing, no doubt, to his exertions and those of Mr Winstanley that the commission was offered. “* September 12th, 13th——Let me survey. I came home with my family from Broadstairs, July 31st. In August I got £10, ros. from the Duke of Devonshire for a share in Saragossa, and that is all professional receipts for six weeks! Since then I have received a commission for 400 guineas, but the above is all I have actually received to this time. ‘““ The interval between my employments—as I have a family that must be fed and educated—generally produces debts, and that produces embarrassment. “TI had to pay £12, 10s. for my boy, and borrowed it at 2s. in the pound for two months. I borrowed £5 more to that £10; so that I have incurred a debt of £32, 10s. before I begin my commission, and this again is a nucleus formed for future embar- rassment. Half the month is gone. Falstaffis done. ‘The sketch for Liverpool done. Saragossa quite ready to do, and Poictiers nearly done. J am waiting for another reply, and then I fly to my canvas.” On the 23rd the Liverpool picture was begun (with the usual prayer for a blessing on it), and on the 5th of October he visited Liverpool to determine the place it should occupy in the church, and to see Hilton’s work, to which it was to serve as companion. He says of Hilton’s picture that it is “ broad, though chilly in colour, but a good picture and creditable to his talent.”’ Before the end of October the composition of the picture was settled.+ 1 [ regret that in a recent visit to Liverpool (in 1852) I was unsuccessful in my attempt to see the pictures, as they were, for the time, rolied up and put away in consequence of the damp of the new church, where they should be hung.—Eb. Haydon 628 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1837 Haydon was now busy with his Liverpool commission, and preparing for a fresh round of the great northern manufacturing towns, where he never failed to find warm friends and applauding audiences. He took occasion in these tours, wherever he could, to urge the formation of Schools of Design; and such a school was founded at Manchester in this year. Probably no previous attempts of Haydon’s to disseminate an interest in Art were so useful or successful as these lectures, and what connected itself with them, or followed from them. Most of his efforts in this way, hitherto, had flowed too directly from his feud with the Academy, or were too much mixed up with his own quarrels, distresses and disasters for the truths of Art which they asserted ever to have full effect. But in several of his lectures he got rid of such disturbing elements, and when he did his views were sound and ennobling. But “‘ self’ with him always so distorted judgments and estimates as to provoke in many readers and hearers opposition or indifference to the best and truest things he could say or write about his art. “October 29th.1—Began this day this new Journal. What after so many years are the prospects of Art and the country? The art has decidedly advanced in public opinion. Amongst the upper classes the feeling for it has decreased. The Court and the nobility are just in the same state of infantine passion for portrait, and by portrait, and by portrait alone, will any man make his way to high places here. “ 20th.—Worked hard, and at the head of Christ, which is the best I have done, in promise. When I remember the anxiety about the head of Christ in Jerusalem in the art and in fashionable life, and reflect on the utter apathy now, it is shocking. ‘‘ 21st,—Last day, and a very bustling, idle month I have passed. I have lectured with great success, and to overwhelming audiences; especially on Friday, when I had two of the Blues— wonderful men—the one a Theseus, the other a Gladiator, and they were received con furore. ‘““ November 4th—Met Rogers in the park. People are beginning to peep about, and heave in sight for the season. I told him I had just been to the Duke of Sutherland’s to see Delaroche’s picture of Strafford. I said it was a fine work, but still a French work. In looking round at the Murillos, the difference of what was and what is raises interesting questions. There is no life in French pictures. The basis of all French Art 1 The twenty-second volume of the Journals opens at this date with the motto, from Ecclesiastes xxiii. 24: ‘‘ Fear not to be strong in the Lord that He may confirm you: cleave unto Him, for the Lord Almighty is God alone, and beside Him there is no other Saviour.” 1S 1837] DEATH OF LORD EGREMONT 629 is the theatre and the lay-figure. The flesh is smooth and bloodless. Rogers touched me in the side, and said, ‘ Give us something better of the same sort; you could.’ I went to the Velasquez afterwards. It was a ripe peach after curriers’ leather. The Duke has given a high price. It is large, and yet such is the perversity that, like Thomas Hope, he objects to my painting large. ‘Thomas Hope objected to my doing Solomon the size of life, and yet gave a French painter at the very same time 800 guineas for Damocles, full size. “IT ask any impartial person if my Solomon, Jerusalem and Lazarus are not greater works than Delaroche has ever done. Yet where are they all? Solomon in a hayloft, Lazarus in a bazaar, and Jerusalem out of the country. “* 5th.—Sat for my portrait-bust to Park. Sent my children to church, but did not read prayers to myself, which is wicked and ungrateful. ‘The reason is, I am in no danger pecuniarily, feel no want of God’s protection, and forget His past mercies. This shows what human gratitude is. “‘ gth—This day the Queen (who will never forgive me for sending her a ticket of admission to the raffle of Xenophon) goes to dine in the city. The day has opened, as all such days do, in nubibus. When Napoleon appeared the day always brightened, and I sincerely hope her young feelings will not have the chill a bad day always gives. God bless her! As the Committee won’t let me into the hall, my dignity won’t let me stand in the streets; so I shall finish my drapery, which looks gloriously this morning. “God protect the dear little Queen through all the perils of fog and feasting, and bring her home safely, and make her reign over us long and lasting. ‘ 14th.—Lord Egremont is te a great loss to all, especially artists. He was an extraordinary man-—manly, straightforward, tender-hearted, a noble patron, an attached friend and an affec- tionate and indulgent parent. His great pleasure was in sharing with the highest and humblest the advantages and luxuries of his vast income. ‘The very animals at Petworth seemed happier than in any other spot on earth, better fed, and their dumbness and helpless dependence on man more humanely felt for. He was one of those left of the old school who considered a great artist as fit society for any man, however high his rank, and at his table, as at Sir George Beaumont’s, Lord Mulgrave’s, or Sir Robert Peel’s, painter and sculptor, poet and minister and soldier, all were as equals. “r9th—At Hamilton’s till four. He had been to Drayton and saw Napoleon in the dining-room. Sir Robert broached the subject about the charge after dinner; Lord de Grey and others 630 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1837-38 others present. He said I could not expect to keep my friends if I raised my charges in that way. ‘This was not fair, as Hamilton said; he got the picture for 100 guineas owing to a mistake. I told him it ought at least to have been £200, and after all, the fair price was £300.” With this explanation it has a very different air. “* 20th.—Saw the Queen pass the gallery to the Lords. Her appearance was singular. Her large eye, open nostril, closed mouth, small form, grave demeanour and intellectual look, surrounded by nobles, ministers, ambassadors, peeresses, states- men and guards, had something awful and peculiar. ‘“ 22nd.—At the British Museum all day, writing hard for my History of Art. “23rd.—-At the British Museum again. Copied materials for my history.” And then follow many pages of a summary History of Art, which need not detain us here, and which occupied him to the close of the month. In December of this year his pictures of the Black Prince and the Lord Audley at Poictiers, and of Falstaff and Prince Hal, were sent to the exhibition of the Edinburgh Society of Artists. 1838 ““ Ffanuary 25th—Manchester. Up to this very day I have neglected my Journal. I left town, and arrived here after a rapid journey by train from Birmingham, and was received with the same enthusiasm as before. ‘To-day is my birthday, when I complete my fifty-second year. A meeting took place in the committee-room of the Mechanics’, to consider the propriety of founding a School of Design. I read my proposition, which was received with cheers; Mr James Frazer in the chair. Mr Heywood was present. Someone wished an elementary school to be added before beginning the figure, but I urged the necessity of uniting the artist and the mechanic, as in Greece and Italy, and I think I impressed the audience. Finally an active com- mittee was formed to take the matter into consideration, pre- paratory to calling a public meeting. This I consider the first serious move. ‘Thanks were voted me, and inwardly I thank God I have lived to see this day.t ** 28th.—Dined out with a very fine fellow, Darbyshire, and Heywood (banker), Fairbairn (engineer), and others, with some 1 It is in favour of the soundness of Haydon’s views as to Schools of Design that this very Manchester school, after some years’ languishing under a system the opposite to that here indicated, has lately seen and acknowledged the necessity of coming to Haydon’s principle. nice 1838] AT MANCHESTER 631 nice women, one with a fine head, who sat opposite me at table. We talked of the School of Design. Heywood said, ‘ It was astonishing how it would get on if men had shares bearing interest; not but what,’ he added, ‘I prefer donations.’ This was a regular hint for starting a ‘ School of Design Company,’ and after all, perhaps, this must be the way in England. We shall see. Bankers are shrewd ones. Liked Fairbairn much; a good iron steam-engine head. ‘To see his expression when they talked of Ernest Maltravers made me inwardly rejoice. ‘I cannot get through novels,’ said he. It showed his good sense. He has risen from a foundry labourer to be master of as great a manu- factory as any in the world. “* 29th.—Got a Celsus, and was struck more strongly than ever with the evidence of the dissection of the Greeks. It was lent me by a young surgeon in the house. He refers to the Greeks about the diaphragm, which the Greeks call duddpaypa; ppdypa is ‘a fence. How came they to call it so, but from internal examination? ‘“‘ Lectured at Royal Institution and Mechanics’. Audiences stuffed. Laid the subject of a School of Design before them. Enthusiastically received. Committee met to-day. All goes right. Monied men must not be bullied. Great effort to keep the mechanics temperate. “ February 3rd—Dined at Fairbairn’s, after passing the morning at his vast engine works. Boilers for 400 horse-power engines; iron melting by fire that would have astonished the devils, roaring like thunder, dark with brightness, red with heat and liquid like lava. We had a pleasant party, but the conversa- tion in all country towns is on domestic politics. On any broad question they get spitish, and you see the aim is to rival another establishment, or mortify a political opponent. ‘Turner, the surgeon, Frazer, the connoisseur, and Darbyshire, the attorney, see things broadly. ‘ 5th.—Left Manchester yesterday (Sunday) and arrived here (Leeds) at five. After the spirit of London and Manchester, Leeds seems stupid. Nous verrons. ‘* 6th.—Lectured last night. They seem High Church and bigoted. I was asked after if I meant to attack the Church, because I said the Reformation had ruined High Art. Hamilton has given me a letter to Theodore Hook’s relative, Dr Hook. “ roth.—Dined with Mr Bankes, and had a very pleasant evening. Spent the morning with Miss Bankes in looking over her collection of shells, according to La Marque. I gained immense knowledge, as I went through every species from the earliest formation to the last. ‘The people here think her cracked. How 632 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1838 How evident is the cause of learned people being thought magi- clans in an earlier state of society! “ 18ti.—Left Leeds, where I have met a kind reception and great enthusiasm, for Manchester. Attended to-day the first considerable meeting for a School of Design. There was a decent muster, and everybody sincere. I seconded the last resolution, and the debate concluded. I then ran to the train, and was at Birmingham in four hours and a half. On Tuesday, 20th, | went to Tamworth, and thence to Drayton, having found Sir Robert Peel’s servant waiting to conduct me. My Napoleon looked admirably. Sir Robert had placed it in the centre of his drawing-room, in the place of honour. Lawrence’s Lady Peel looked really exquisite as far as head and neck. The Teniers and Vandyke were beautiful. The old masters ground their colours purer than modern men. All the modern pictures looked coarse and gritty. The house is splendidly comfortable, and a noble consequence of integrity and trade. “* 21st.—Set off for town, where I arrived after being thirteen hours outside, and after having accomplished all I left town to do—the establishment of a School of Design at Manchester, and the excitement of the people. If God spares my life I will raise such a commotion about the Court that shall make it ashamed of its miniature trash and patronage. It is quite disgraceful. “26th, 27th, 28ih.—Did business to get clear for devoting myself for finishing Christ blessing little Children. Called in at the School of Design, Somerset House. My Heavens—what a scene! Eight or nine poor boys drawing paltry patterns; no figures, no beautiful forms. ““ March 18th—Went to church; but prosperity, though it makes me grateful, does not cause me such perpetual religious musings as adversity. When on a precipice where nothing but God’s protection can save me, then I delight in religious hope, but I am sorry to say my ambition ever dwindles unless kept alive by risk of ruin. My piety is never so intense as when in a prison, and my gratitude never so much alive as when I have just escaped from one. “‘22nd.—Out the whole day. Lectured in the evening on the School of Design. Wyse and Ewart were present. Wyse made a capital speech, carrying out my principles, the principles of my early enthusiasm. It was a complete victory, and now it will get into the House effectually. They both said I stirred up the people in the country. It was curious to find Elmes, my old friend, the editor of the Annals, vice-president after so many years. God grant us victory. “ 25th.—My picture is well advanced, and I have been blessed throughout 1838] DESIGN FOR A NELSON MONUMENT 633 throughout so far. God bless me to the end. This last year a good deal of money has passed through my hands, out of which I cannot save, my boys are so expensive. If I think what is to become of me in my old age, something whispers me, ‘ Trust in God, as usual.’ ”’ An agitation was about this time started for a monument to Nelson. Haydon took a deep interest in the proposal, and con- tributed a design to the competition, which resulted in the selection of the Trafalgar Square column and statue. Haydon’s original design was a Greek temple with a simple statue of Nelson in the cella, and on the walls pictures of four of the most remarkable incidents in his career: 1. The receiving the sword of the Spanish officers on the quarter-deck of the San fosef. 2. The explosion of L’Orient at the battle of the Nile. 3. His signing of the letter to the Crown Prince at the bom- bardment of Copenhagen. 4. The death at Trafalgar. This design he communicated on the gth of April to Sir George Cockburn in a letter, but did not then apparently propose to enter regularly into the competition. ‘“ April 11th.—Out the whole day. Spent two hours at Sir Robert Peel’s. Studied the magnificent Silenus. Good God, what a scale! Studied the Chapeau de Paille—model of painting hands and head; bosom not beautiful; hat badly put on. Miss Peel was with her French governess, a beautiful, domestic and interesting girl. She came out into the gallery and received me most kindly, so that I hope Sir Robert and I will be reconciled. I pursued wrong under the impression of right, and he opposed me, convinced he was right.1_ When I found amongst my papers indisputable evidence of my feelings at the time, which preved I was wrong, I told him so at once. I could do no more, and he seems to think so. ““ Lady Peel’s portrait with her bonnet was very sweet, but bordering on manner. Yet it was tender, and suited the nature of Lawrence: whenever Lawrence painted the Duchess of Suther- land or Lady Peel, he seemed to forget all his coquettish expres- sions.” By an accident, the committee of his Liverpool employers delayed a remittance, and at once the old difficulties recommenced. “ 16th—Advanced by finishing last week, everything now being settled, but the Liverpool committee not keeping their engagement with me I begin to be harassed. ‘They promised + In allusion to the difference touching the price of the Napoleon picture, me 634 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1838 me my {£50 on the 8th. I promised landlord and collector of rates and taxes. I have broken my word with all of them. I feel lowered again, and after ten months of prosperity I begin to feel the usual blessings of devoting one’s self to a large picture on contingencies. I raised {5 on my prints. ‘To-day I have got gs. in my pocket, and out go my anatomical studies for the wants of the week. ‘* 18th.—Heard yesterday from Liverpool, but no cash. This is careless, and unlike men of business. The consequence was, I sent out my dinner suit to-day for £1, 10s. The Manchester men told me that the Liverpool people were all show, and at Leeds Dr Hook said: ‘ We give a Liverpool man ten years.’ Nous verrons. Hard at work, and finished the legs, but not satisfied. After lunch I got into an omnibus and drove down to the National Gallery, and studied Coreggio’s, Rubens’s and Reynolds’s children. Of the three Rubens’s were best, Coreggio’s beautiful too. I came back like a lion, kept down the off leg, softened both, and greatly improved them. The day has been one of real ecstasy. I had a beautiful baby in the morning. Studied glorious works, and succeeded. Laus Deo. Now, if the £50 comes, I defy mortality. “ Really, looking at Reynolds, I thought the head of the Infant Jesus as finely painted as anything in the world, but on coming to him again from Titian and Coreggio the material was too apparent. But for manly breadth nothing could be finer. ‘Those three ladies, too,! are exquisite. He was a great man, and I think Reynolds, Hogarth, Wilson, Gainsborough and Wilkie keep ground. ‘The English school will rise now they are fairly hung. “* 26th.—Lectured last night with great success, going into the whole Academy question. It was considered I had proved my position. ‘Took out my greatcoat to go to the lecture. I sent it back again by my old fidus Achates for 12s. this morning, to furnish us for the day. “ 28th —Aujourd’ hui pat recu cent guinées sterling ; hier au soir actuellement sans quatre schellings! Telle est ma vie: un jour au sommet, pendant le jour suivant au bout de besoin et misére ! _“ Grace a Dieu pour sa bonté de ce matin! (Half-past one.) Was there ever anything like it? This moment }’az recu de Liver- pool Pautre £50. Cent cinquante cing livres dans un jour, apres la plus grande necessité! Grace a Dieu encore. ** All this can be traced to human causes. ‘The treasurer was ill and forgot me. He returned and sent the money. It was inclosed by post. In the meanwhile a young lady wished to be 1 Reynolds’s Graces. a pupil. 1838] DEATH OF A STEPSON 635 a pupil. I dine there; the father makes me an offer. I propose another. He accepts and appoints. Because the treasurer was ill, because he came back, because he sent the money, because it was put in the post, because the train met with no accident, because the postman did not break his neck, was not a thief, because my servant went to the door when he knocked, and because I went into the city for similar progressive reasons, I got {100 first, and the £50 came after.” But now came a heavy blow—the death of his second stepson, Simon Hyman, by the bite of a serpent in Madras Roads, thus announced to him by the lad’s captain: ‘““ Her Majesty’s sloop Wolf, ‘“‘ My dear Sir, “Trincomalee, December 31st, 1837. “T regret much indeed the painful task I am about to take— the communication to you of the melancholy demise of your son 5S. Hyman, which took place in consequence of the bite of a reptile on board Her Majesty’s brig Algerine, at anchor in Madras Roads, when a sea-serpent came on board, having been hooked by amarine. The late Mr S. Hyman took it in his hand, and the animal, when irritated, seized hold of his hand over the metacarpal bone of the forefinger, and held the doubled-up skin firmly between his jaws until he was forced to let go his hold. This occurred at 7.30 a.m. Mr Hyman held the occurrence lightly, went down to his breakfast, and soon after felt some uneasiness in his throat, which quickly began to swell: the patient fell giddy, not long after insensible, and died exactly at 10.30 a.m., three hours after the accident. A few exceedingly small punctures were seen where the animal bit the hand. Soon after death the throat was dis- coloured, the body spotted, which in a few hours became offensive, and it was found necessary to bury it at 4 p.m. the same evening. There were two medical men, who did all they could and all that was possible on the occasion, but so very rapid and deadly was the poison that no good arose from any remedies, and the first hour was necessarily lost by the patient himself treating the thing lightly, and as of no material consequence. “ The snake was preserved, and examined by Mr Bland, surgeon of Her Majesty’s sloop Wolf, under my command, and found to be six feet six inches in length, general colour yellow, with forty- three black rings nearly equidistant. Its thickness about six inches near the vent, from which the tail projected vertically, flat or compressed. Upper jaw two rows of small teeth, the inner row indented in the intermaxillary bones like the common adder, but no fang teeth could be detected, nor could it be seen whether the snake had hollow or tubed teeth from want of a powerful lens. Under jaw had one row of teeth, many broken and worn from age. In the above account I have given you every information in my power (at present). And as for his effects (according to his verbal wish) they are strictly kept, and will be sent to you. His clothes (naval) 636 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1838 (naval) may come in for his brother, as my poor unfortunate shipwrecked brother’s did for me. “In concluding this melancholy detail, I beg, my dear Sir, to acquaint you that your late son-in-law was very much respected, and in fact beloved by all. He bid fair for a fine officer, and there exists no doubt, had he survived the melancholy catastrophe, he would have done honour to the British navy. We who knew him shall ever feel most deeply impressed at the loss, and his memory will ever be much respected by all. “Wishing you will be in time reconciled to the will of One who calls the best first to His presence, ‘“T remain, my dear Sir, ‘* Yours much concerned, “EDWARD STANLEY.”’ ‘* May 13th.—Read prayers, and passed the day in doing nothing but moving about, then looking at my pictures and studying effect. It is extraordinary the indisposition of children for church. Surely I had no such indisposition. I remember going to prayers, and listening to Gandy with absolute pleasure. I remember always listening to his sublime reading of the Litany with delight. Not one of my children has the least of it. They in reality hate going to public worship. Frank says he hates to pray with a parcel of fools who come to be looked at. Frederic says he likes it, all but the sermon, and my little girl says she goes to pleaseme. Thusitis. If I read prayers and a Blair’s sermon they all join, because they know they are released in an hour, but church is always matter of discontent. ‘ 20th.—My poor Hyman haunts us all. His death is afflicting, dreadfully so. To be hurried to the grave in full health and spirits in three hours. Poor fellow! He never lived to receive his mother’s and sister’s letters. ‘Thank God he got mine, and his last breath, as it were, was a blessing on me. I loved him like my own boy. “* 21st—Hard at work and finished the other hand. Now for the back figure, and then, huzza for the conclusion ! “I think I am less satisfied now than ever with my own efforts. Surely I must be on the eve of some grand attempt. J am dying for daring foreshortenings and desperate actions. ‘ 22nd.—Dreadfully anxious and hard at work. I rubbed out and rubbed in endlessly; but feeling the benefit of admitting all classes while the work is in progress, and all classes having pro- nounced judgment on the muscular beggar, I took him out, after engaging a horseguard, and sending for a female model put in a sweet girl looking over an infant. ‘This kept up the feeling, and this morning (23rd) I see it will do; so I shall finish it, and this is an immense anxiety eased. ‘ 24th, 1838] SIR JOSHUA’S MEMORANDUM BOOK 637 “ 24th.—Put in the head of a young girl. It is a great improve- ment. My dear Mary still continues very low about poor Hyman. “ 25th.—Studied the effect, and lectured. Ewart proposed a petition to bring up the Cartoons to be presented by Wyse. Success to it. ‘‘ 27th.—Walked and looked at the grand entrance to the railway. Itis extraordinary how decidedly the public has adopted Greek architecture. Its simplicity, I take it, is suitable to English decision. “* Fune 1st.—Called on Ewart, and told him strongly they were hurrying on the art too fast; that they were going to petition to have the Cartoons when they had no place to putthemin. ‘ Turn out the Academy,’ said Ewart. ‘ What is to become of the Cartoons in the mean time? You can’t turn them out.’ ‘ The Chancellor of the Exchequer said they would be ready to go if the public wished.’ This is a radical. All they want is move- ment. Here is a man who proposes to move the Cartoons, and before they can be lodged must get out an Academy which has just gotin. I told him false movements ruined battles. ‘“4th.—Went out early on business. Winstanley called from Liverpool. Called on Beechey, who was full of a new vehicle. He amused me excessively by reading extracts! from copies he had made from a memorandum book of Reynolds’s in the possession of Mr Gwatkin, who married his niece. It was most entertaining. At the end of a day’s work and a new portrait, he put down ‘ Sono stabilito in maniere di dipingere,’ and would paint the very next portrait in a totally different way. Inthesame work, wax, gum copaiva, oil, Venice turpentine, were all used in turn. Often first he put ‘ cerata’; that is, waxed the ground before he painted. Often prepared with black, white and blue, and glazed with yellow lake, and then painted warm and cooled with ultra- marine by glazes. I never saw a man so uncertain; and the beautiful delusion of fancying his manner of painting was fixed! —just like a man of great genius who has a peculiar weakness. ““~7th.—Lord and Lady Burghersh called yesterday and sug- gested removing the column, and the improvement is enormous. Too much cannot be said to them for their thought and taste. To-day I cleared the picture; threw the whole background into sky and landscape, and the flatness gave double value to the foreground. Every day one learns something from one’s self and others. ‘Duke of Sutherland called to-day, and said he was much pleased with the character and head of Christ. He thought the 1 See these extracts in the Appendix to this volume. VOL. II.—4I children 638 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1838 children not Jewish enough. This was a sound remark; so that if I get the child done to-morrow, this week will have been well passed. ““ If a foreground be flat, let a background be complicated; if a foreground be complicated, let a background be flat. “ 8th—Painted in a head. Is it equal to Titian or Reynolds, Vandyke or Rubens? No; disgrace that it is not. My mind is teeming with improvement, and something will come of it. ‘The first symptom is disgust at what I do. - “* gth—Much fatigued. Worked hard, and got the boy nearly done. This week advanced well, but not enough. “‘ roth_—Read prayers. Sent the children to church, and Frank and I walked after. My eyes irritable from having had no rest Friday or Saturday. I am convinced that on Friday and Saturday, what with reading, writing, painting and lecturing, thirty out of the forty-eight hours were constantly employed. Sometimes such is the extreme activity of my brain that I fall dead asleep like Napoleon, and from the same cause, wake refreshed and at it again. When I come to dinner my dear Mary says I have been a great deal alone. Such a sensation never enters my head. I never feel alone. With visions of ancient heroes, pictures of Christ, principles of ancient Art, humorous subjects, deductions, sarcasms against the Academy, piercing remembrance of my dear children all crowding upon me, I paint, write, conceive and fall asleep, start up refreshed, eat my lunch with the fierceness of Polyphemus, return to my room, go on till near dinner, walk, dine, read the paper, return to my study, complete what I have been doing, or muse till dusk, then to bed, lamenting my mortality at being fatigued. I never rest, I talk all night in my sleep, start up: I scarce know whether I did not even relish ruin, as a source of increased activity. ‘ Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!’ ‘* r5th—Got up so wretched in my eyes from overwork that I sallied forth to seek my fortunes, like Cain with his family, and got into the Great Western. The instant the engine moved I felt something was wrong. It laboured and jerked, and after going at a snail’s pace made a dead stop at four miles. After a great deal of time it proceeded, and arrived at West Drayton at one, thirteen miles an hour. This was the first hour of an in- tended day of pleasure. Weary of the idea of remaining at a station till four, I determined to walk to Hounslow, but rain set in; so I hailed a tax-cart, in fact a butcher’s, and asked him if he would take me to Hounslow. He said he would, and as it was all by bypaths I jumped in. He lent me a sack to cover my knees, and by wiping myself continually I kept the ae rom 1838] AN IGNOBLE RIDE 639 from soaking in. We got on very well. He told me the winter had been {10 out of his way. All his potatoes, turnips and cabbages had been ruined. He said he was married and had two children. He said: ‘ You have a queer coachman, sir, haven’t ye?” ‘Never mind, my hero, bring me to Hounslow.’ After a long trot he plunged into the open road—Hounslow two miles. I thought it would be rather awkward to meet the Duke of Sutherland. ‘Trusting in Providence I should escape, I did not get out; and while I was thinking if my noble friends should see me what a job it would be, suddenly the butcher bawled out: ‘The Queen! the Queen!’ I jerked off my spectacles, pressed my hat over my head, hid half my face and waited. First came the Lancers, then outriders, then the Queen, then a carriage with Prince George (I think), who looked at me. ‘The Queen’s eye I escaped, and he did not know me. ** At Hounslow I fell in with a stage, and got to town at five. ** 18th.—At the Gallery at night. Sir George, Lord Mulgrave, Duke of Sutherland, all gone! and the glory of the Gallery gone with them. There was not one beautiful head in the room. ““ Studied a Bassano till I smelt its colour, and to-day dashed into my sketch what I imbibed. Oh, what they lose who do not glory in the old painters! What an eye! What a nerve for colour! How I sucked it in, how I tasted it on the tip of my tongue! how fiery were the crimsons! how delicious the surface! how deep thetone! Delaroche made mesick. His dirty browns, his reds, his filthy leathery bricky flesh—Yah! ‘““T am the same man asever. Thirty years ago I had just the same feelings, the same delusions. ‘* Last night, as I was looking at Delaroche’s picture of Charles, which is not equal to the Duke’s Strafford, P. was standing by me. He said, ‘ The French are approaching us.’ I replied, “The French have decided merits we have not.’ He turned away in a rage. “IT could not help admiring the thoroughbred impertinence of R.A.’s. They are never at a loss to keep up their dignity. ‘Approaching us’—‘ Us!’ The immaculate exquisite! They are clever fellows. “ 19th.—What I find fault with is my tendency to intellectual deduction. I have as much pleasure in that as painting. It comes on in spite of Titian, Nature and the Elgin Marbles. “ t9th.—Hard at work, and did half the baby. ‘Titian’s flesh in children is exactly the milky tint—Rubens not so. In the Three Ages ! at Bridgewater House the three little children are perfection. ‘The flesh in my baby being near a red cap, the 1 By some attributed to Titian, by others to Giorgione. reflections 640 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1838 reflections are red. Mary came in, and said, ‘ Children who suck are not red, but milky.’ ‘This was the sound criticism of a mother. ‘* 24th.—Dined at Mackenzie’s (an old friend), and met Lord Paulet, O , Matthews (the brother of Lord Byron’s Matthews), Mr Coulton, and two others. A very delightful evening we had, because we got on the Spanish war. O (though one of the Duke’s croakers evidently) said capital things. He said magis- trates, priests, people and nobility were all with the Duke, and the French could not move without the Duke immediately knowing every movement. He said the French never fought much after Salamanca and Albuera. He said he knew that the Duke, before going to Waterloo, when ministers asked whom they should send out if any accident should happen to him, replied, ‘ Beresford’; but like many old officers, he ascribed more to circumstances than to Wellington’s genius. Absurd. “Lord Paulet told some interesting things. Among a parcel of aides-de-camp he heard one say, ‘ They ran away.’ ‘The Duke, who was near, turned round— Ran away! to be sure. I saw a whole regiment, officers and all, run like the devil in the Pyrenees till they were up to their shoulders in furze.’ Lord Paulet said it was one of the fifties. ‘The Duke said directly after he saw the same regiment distinguishing themselves highly. He was supposed not to have seen the first scene, but he saw the last, and noticed their gallantry in orders. ‘“‘ Lord Paulet said, one night in Paris, at the Variétés, he and the Duke found in their box a dirty-looking fellow marked with the smallpox. He was going to say the box was taken, when to his astonishment the Duke spoke freely to the stranger, and they got into a deep conversation. When the Duke came out he said, ‘Do you know who that is? That’s Rostopchin, a devilish good fellow.’ Mackenzie then said, in reply to some question, Rostopchin did not set fire to Moscow. That he heard him declare after dinner, upon his word of honour as a gentleman, that he had nothing to do with it. He burned his own villa before the city was burnt, thus setting the example, but he says it was set fire to by thieves, who hoped to plunder. Mackenzie said the question with Russians was, Moscow was the headquarters of the nobility, who were too powerful for Alexander’s inde- pendence. It was suspected the burning was not disagreeable to him. The nobles were very angry at the Tilsit scene, and remonstrated; in fact little less than ordered Alexander to have nothing to do again with the French army, or even to see Napoleon. ~Q then returned to the running away, and said, unless keeping the ground was an object, officers and all often took shelter. 1838] ANECDOTES OF THE DUKE 641 shelter. But if the orders were, ‘ Keep that ground while alive,’ every man would drop at his post. ‘““ Mackenzie said he was present when a French officer of artillery was taken and brought to Schwartzenburg. Among other questions he was asked what they were doing in the South. ‘Don’t you know? We have been fighting a man who if he had your army would have been in Paris a month ago.’ He told us he heard the Duke say Massena was equal to 120,000, Ney to 20,000, but that Soult combined the talents of both. ‘“‘He said the 11th volume of the Despatches was delayed till Soult was gone, lest it might have injured him with English people. “O thought nothing of Vittoria because there was no fighting. I asked him if taking 150 pieces of cannon and Lord Hill’s fank movement were nothing. He admitted, unwillingly, that was something. Vittoria was the greatest because there was no fighting. O said the army was sick of it before the battle. I dare say all the croakers were. i) was exactly the sort of man to hit shortsighted prejudices between wind and water; to attribute the success of a great genius to circumstances, to information and second-rate causes, instead of seeing that but for the innate power of mind to wield the circumstances nothing could have come. “What Wellington must have had to contend with! I came away with Matthews, to whom, as we came out, I complained of the disposition of old military characters to underrate the Duke. I told O that I heard from Colonel Aicheson of the Guards a saying of the Duke’s, ‘ No man who is not an ass fights a general battle unless he is sure of getting it.’ Fuly 27th —Had a long chat with Wilkie. He had a lady on canvas which was very fair, but his large work, the Discovery of 'Tippoo’s Body, is beneath notice. He has no notion of grace. He has put Baird with his head the wrong way for ease, just like his George IV. It is dreadful to see such a genius so encumbering himself. I suspect from his tone he is suffering from want of commissions. How can he expect otherwise when for ten years he has palmed off such trash as he has been painting? I asked him if he had read my treatise on painting. He said he had begun it, but it was very learned. ““T think he is going to get married. Just as I was going he showed me a small picture of the Pope and Benvenuto Cellini, as exquisite as anything he ever painted—superior, in fact. It had all the surface Sir George used to wish for in him. If he completes it as he has begun it, he will hit what he has been floundering after for years. Be 642 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1838 “* 31st.—I have got through all the figures; painted ten this month. Iam grateful I have accomplished it. ‘“Now for improvements and alterations. About seven D’Orsay called, whom I had not seen for long. He was much improved, and looking ‘ the glass of fashion and the mould of form ’—really a complete Adonis—not made up at all. He made some capital remarks, all of which must be attended to. They were first impressions and sound. He bounded into his cab, and drove off like a young Apollo with a fiery Pegasus. I looked after him. I like to see such specimens. ‘“ August 4th.—Wilkie called and is looking very old. His mind is certainly growing feeble. We had a regular discussion about effects, lights, etc., but he was weak and fat. He was annoyed at my saying that he refused to walk with me in the streets after my attack on the Academy. It was truth and he knows it. He said, ‘My object was to bring you right, as it is now. He actually said this to-day, as if he was sounding me. ‘You have kept yourself aloof from all societies,’ said he, * very properly.’ By heavens here is an advance! ”’ At this time the subject of a statue to the Duke of Wellington was under consideration, and a model of Wyatt’s equestrian figure was erected, without the artist’s knowledge, on the arch where the statue itself now stands. Struck with the ungraceful effect of the whole, Haydon wrote to the Duke, enclosing a sketch in which he showed the disproportion between statue and pedestal and the improvement that might be effected by adopting a figure of different size placed parallel with the roadway instead of athwart it. ‘The Duke acknowledged the note and sketch in his usual incisive style: “London, August 11th, 1838. “The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Haydon, and returns the drawing enclosed in his note of the roth. ‘The Duke is the man of all men in England who has the least to do with the affair which is the subject of Mr Haydon’s letter to him.”’ ‘‘ 17th.—The session has ended, and nothing has been done for High Art, or even thought of. But the law which enabled a reptile to enter your house without notice and drag you even from your bed is abolished. ‘This is only a step to the final abolishment of arrest even in execution. ‘‘ T have helped to this desired object. ‘“‘ Hume read my Catalogue on the Mock Election at the House, which was a feather in the scale. ‘* 29th.—Hard and anxiously at work. Nothing now left to finish but the feet and legs of an alteration, and to have three boy models 1838] THE LIVERPOOL PICTURE FINISHED 643 models together, so that | may make my own more separate and solid in light and shadow from nature. ‘“‘ Always group up your models. No ideal light and shadow is equal to the truth of life. “* 31st.—I have fairly got through my picture, for which mercy I offer God my grateful thanks. I began 8th October, went out of town in January, recommenced in April, and got through it in August. It has taken me six months’ fair hard work. I faddled two, was absent six weeks, altered and rubbed in in March and began to finish in April. For the health, for the happiness, for the supply of money, for all the blessings I have enjoyed, on my knees I bless God, the cause, the fountain, of all. ‘* September 6th.—When the vehicle which conveys the thought is such as not to detract from the full value of the thought by its imperfection of resemblance, but not such as to attract by its mere splendour of execution, but such as solely to convey the thought, so that the thought alone shall predominate—that is perfection of Art. Subsequent examination may bring fresh delight at finding out how this has been done. “Titian and Apelles, Claude and Vandervelde, Wilkie in his Blind Fiddler, and Landseer in his dogs—why are these men not the greatest in their art? Because invention requires a higher ower of mind than imitation. ‘* 16th.—I bless God with all my heart that I have paid my rent, rates, taxes, laid in my coals for winter, and have enjoyed health, happiness and freedom from debt ever since this commission. If, before I die, I can satisfy my old creditors (those who did not put me to law costs, though there is something of revenge in this I believe and fear) I shall die unloaded. “* October gth.—Worked hard and finished my sketch, and thus I conclude ‘my first Liverpool commission,’ as my friend Lowndes said. ““ t9th.—Left town in the train, and arrived at Liverpool at half-past seven—nine and a half hours—z210 miles. A young American sat with me in the coupé, and I was heartily amused. All the characteristics of his countrymen came out in perfection. He carelessly tumbled about bills to a considerable amount— boasted of the battle of Plattsburgh, which I had forgotten, till I was obliged to pull him down a little, tenderly, about the Chesapeake and the Capitol. His face altered instantly. ““ He said he could animal-magnetise. I defied him: he began with all his antics, but I looked him sternly in the face and shook him. He pretended he was ill, and finding me broad awake said: ‘ Mayhap, you are a strong mind.’ ‘So they say,’ said I. ** At lunch he went and found out who I was, when his altered tone 644 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1838 tone amused me. He drove up to the same hotel and announced my coming (which was a cursed liberty). After that I took care. “On Tuesday I met him and said: ‘ Well, you did not put me to sleep.’ ‘ Ah,’ said he, ‘I did not do it. I was too ill.’ I found the picture arrived. “* 21st.—Went to church at the Asylum. “* 22nd.—Put up the picture. “ 23rd.—It looked capitally. ** 24th —Worked at it. “* 25th.—Finished. ‘Thus it is one year and seventeen days since [ began the picture. Laus Deo. “ 27th, 28th and 29th.—Spent at Liverpool amongst a spirited set, but more idle than Manchester men. Dined on 27th with Lowndes, who seemed quite happy. I had in spite of calumny honoured his election. “* 30th.—Set off for Manchester, where I stayed for two days arranging with Fairbairn about my dear boy, Frank, who will be an engineer. “* November 1st.—Arrived safely at Leeds, where I was heartily and sincerely welcomed. ‘The Liverpool men are speculators and spirited; the Leeds men, steady and persevering; the Manchester men, industrious and wealthy. “ 19th.—Left dear old steady Leeds at eleven. Got to Man- chester and dined. Set off by train and came back iike mad in the hour to Liverpool. Had a letter from my darling Mary which charmed me. ‘“ 21st.—Went to the Mechanics’ and got all right. It is a magnificent establishment. “* 22nd.—Lectured last night to a large audience. The room is too large. You feel pained to fill it. ‘There are too many boys belonging to the schools, and the savage brutality behind is dreadful. No attention or common civility. I was astonished. ‘They are accustomed to so many teachers they look on a lecturer as on a porter. I'll teach them differently. I had hard work to get a glass of water. ‘* December 5th.—Lowndes came the other night and proposed to me to paint a grand historical picture of the Duke. ‘The very thing I have been thinking of for two years. How extraordinary! O God, grant me life and health to do this thing as the glorious town of Liverpool deserves it should be done! “4th, 5th, 6th, 7th and 8th—Sketched. ‘The scheme for the Duke goes on capitally. ““ Brought forward a boy at the Mechanics’ to-night who is a great genius—Huxley. He will, if ever properly assisted, be an 1838] CLOSE OF THE YEAR 645 an honour to English Art. I offered to educate him if they would maintain him. ““ He has sketched a Rape of Proserpine as fine as anything I ever saw—Ceres demanding her Daughter—Three Fates— Three Furies—not a figure more than wanted. He is full of invention and no manner. ““ He sees the principal figure at once. I cannot express my pleasure. “ His father is a cabinetmaker. “ 14th, 15th.—Dined out, and gave my last lecture to a crowded and elegant audience. On the Thursday I lectured on a fine living model called Hickman, six feet two and a half. When I put him like the Theseus and Ilissus the whole audience felt his superb look. He had been a horseguardsman. ‘The success of these lectures at Liverpool, and the success of the Asylum picture, and the victory of a public commission, are really so glorious that no gratitude to God can be great enough. I prayed sincerely for a successful end of this labour and it has ended successfully. Gratitude to Him, the protector of all his creatures. I now pray to Him to bless this new commission of the Duke, that Liverpool may possess the best historical picture and my grandest effort of the pencil in portrait. Inspired by history I fear not making it the grandest thing.” T’his commission for the picture of the Duke musing at Waterloo twenty years after the battle was a great triumph for Haydon, who, as has been mentioned, had conceived the subject in 1836, and had begun a picture for Messrs Boys, the publishers, which was not proceeded with in consequence of the difficulty already recorded about the Duke’s clothes. A commission from a body of gentlemen at Liverpool was a very different thing from a publisher’s speculation, and so the picture was rubbed in, with great exultation, before the close of the year, with a prayer (in allusion to the picture painted for Sir R. Peel) that the artist might beat Napoleon as much as ever the Duke did. “ 31st—The last day of 1838. A year of competence, work and prosperity comparatively. Blessings and gratitude to that benevolent Creator under whose merciful dispensation this has happened. It has not made me ungrateful or vicious; but I have less crime to answer for than any other previous year of my past life. ‘* Gratitude for ever and ever. Amen. ‘The people are more alive to Art than ever. Everywhere have I been received with enthusiasm, and the importance of High Art is no longer a matter of doubt with them. “Thus 646 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1838-39 “Thus ends 1838. Could I hope that every year would be equally blessed by employment and competence every wish would be gratified. May I deserve it. Amen.” 1839 This year presented but few vicissitudes. The artist was kept above embarrassment throughout, partly by his Liverpool com- mission for the Duke’s picture and partly by his lectures. The one great incident of the twelvemonth was the visit to Walmer, where he had at length his long-wished-for opportunity of sittings from the Duke. Now that Wellington has passed away, details which illustrate his character and habits possess an interest, however trivial apart from the man. I have therefore given the Journal of this visit in full. But before this there had been much correspondence between the Duke and the painter, characteristic on both sides, of which I have suppressed very little. Haydon’s admiration of the Duke was unbounded, and the pains he took with this commission were in proportion to his enthusiasm for the subject of it. The sketches in the Journal are evidence of the thought he gave to the arrangement of the picture, and I have had placed in my hands (while this book was in progress) a collection of elaborate chalk studies? for all the details, from the head and hands of the Duke, down to his spurs and the minutest parts of the trappings of Copenhagen, partly from Haydon’s own hand, and partly from that of his Liverpool pupil, Huxley. The picture seems to have been, in every sense of the word, a conscientious work. It is well known at this time, from the reappearance of the print on the death of the Duke last year. “* Fanuary 1st.—I arose at daylight, dressed, and going into the parlour as usual opened the Bible almost in the dark, turned it on its face, and waited for light. I then, getting impatient, lighted a candle, and read, ‘ Let thy mercy, O Lord, be upon us, according as we hope in Thee.’ ‘“‘ And now to set my palette, and to work. Half-past eight.” Wishing to consult existing portraits, he applied to Sir Robert Peel for access to that by Lawrence in his possession. (Sip ““ Drayton Manor, January gth. ‘I found your letter on my return home last night. ‘‘] shall have great pleasure in acceding to your wish to see Lawrence’s portrait of the Duke of Wellington, and enclose an order to my servant to admit you. 1 In the possession of Mr Spiers of Oxford: “Tam 1839] PICTURE OF MILTON 647 “Tam glad to hear from you that the main object which I had in giving you a commission for the Napoleon, and in placing it in a conspicuous and favourable light, viz. to serve you, by encourag- ing other patrons of the art to follow my example, has been answered. “ The little sketch of your general conception for your intended picture appears to me very good. The only remark I would make is upon the action of the horse. Neither the eye nor the thoughts of the spectator should be diverted from the main object of the picture by any vehemence in the action of the horse, or even any peculiarity in his position. dams: Spr; ““ Your obedient and humble servant, “ROBERT PEEL.” ‘* 11th.—Went to Sir Robert’s and saw Lawrence’s Wellington. Whilst Charles, the porter, was in attendance, he said: ‘ The Duke is getting old, sir, but he won’t allow it. The valet says he thinks he can do as well as ever, but he cannot. He says: “Not at all old!’ ‘This amused me. I hope he will sit before he gets too old.” In the intervals of work on the Duke Haydon painted small pictures—one of Milton at the Organ with his Daughters—and also made sketches for his design for a monument to Nelson. “* 12th.—Drew the whole day—filled in the Nelson series with slight water-colour sketches. How wretchedly imperfect is water- colour drawing ! “ 14th.—Put in Milton’s head successfully. ““ 15th.—Put in the daughters. Little pictures tire my eyes. Hang them! Milton’s daughter was not handsome; but I must make her so. “ 77th —Worked very hard at Nelson’s monument. “* 18th.—Worked hard, without breathing almost, and got on with the monument. “* t9th.—Worked gloriously hard, and finished the sketches. Oh, if my mind was always as easy I should always so apply myself. ‘““A pupil told me I said to him: ‘ In background heads the leading points and the leading details in the lights; but in the shadows, the leading points only,’ which is capital, but I had forgot it. “ 31st——Last day of January, 1839, in which I have exerted myself well, but not to perfection. **[ have rubbed in the Duke, advanced two other commissions and finished the Nelson design. “* Feb. 2nd—The Duchess of Sutherland is dead. In her I lose a very old and a very kind friend. To her energy and decision 648 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1839 decision I owe the matriculation of Hyman, my son-in-law, at Oxford, and my commission for Cassandra. Once after trouble she called when I was out. I told her if she called again to come in state almost. She drove up the next day with all the para- phernalia of servants and equipage, on purpose to have a dashing effect on the neighbourhood and be of service. “ 7th.—Worked hard, and got in the other Milton’s daughter. Wilkie called in the afternoon. I was glad to see his old wizened face. He looked old and wrinkled. I asked if what the present Sir Robert Sinclair told me was true—that the print of a High- lander first turned his thoughts to painting. Wilkie said the fact was the late Sir John Sinclair during the war was intending to raise a regiment. He sent a print of a Highlander, by Dighton, to several of the clergy, and amongst others to his father. Wilkie regarded it withawe. It was framed, and made a deep impression. It increased his love for his art, but did not turn his mind to it in the first instance.” This month Haydon iectured at Bath, of which place he remarks that it is amazingly behind the manufacturing towns in knowledge and intelligence. “Up to March 14th occupied in busy stuff about the Nelson memorial. Saw Sir George Cockburn. Had a long argument. He stuck to the column, but was open to conviction. I told him height alone would not do; breadth was essential. He is a fine fellow. I said: ‘I hope you won’t delay it beyond this session; if you do, the Government will be afraid of offending France.’ ‘ Tl asked him to call. He said he would go in to give judgment uninfluenced in any way. “One always feels curiously in his presence. I look at him and think, ‘ 'That’s the man that said “‘ General ”’ to Napoleon.’ “ Pil ask him some day to lend me his Journal. “ 25th.—Left town with my dear innocent boy Frank, for Manchester, by train. Arrived in little more than ten hours. Called next day on Fairbairn, who was going to Ireland. Took lodgings at 99 Mill Street, and was much interested at Frank’s utter ignorance and inexperience. ‘Though I have educated him religiously and classically, I almost fear the vice of a manufacturing town. It is a complete sacrifice, though his passion for engineer- ing is invincible; but it was a pity to leave his handsome and refined face, so fit for poetry and abstract thought. I suffered so much from the opposition of my parents, I resolved he should have none in any pursuit wherein he showed direct and positive evidence of talent. ** April 1st —Lectured last night at Newcastle, and was received with great enthusiasm. ‘The fair was going on. ee 1839] NEWCASTLE: HULL: WARRINGTON 649 “The Chartists had a meeting and tea-party; but the people to see the wild beasts and swing beat them hollow as to numbers. “* T visited their room, ornamented with laurel and flags, with inscriptions of ‘ Liberty,’ ‘ The labouring man the true nobility,’ etc. etc., as if the power of saying that was not evidence of independence. “I believe in my conscience politics are but a portion of the amusements of the time. “On leaving Newcastle I came to Hull, and found it very far behind Newcastle. ‘The first night the audience, though respect- able, was scanty. The lecture made a hit as usual, and the attendance at the two latter increased prodigiously. All over the country there is a desire for instruction. ‘“ A confederation of the leading towns to join in a petition for Schools of Design and state patronage for Art would make a move. After going through with lectures [’ll try. ““ May 3rd.—The last night at Hull. I never witnessed more enthusiasm anywhere than at Hull, the last night. The people are slow, but feel deeply. A School of Design was begun, and I do not doubt its complete establishment. ** 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th—Lectured at Warrington. Enthusiasm just the same. “* t1th.—Finished with the study of Copenhagen (done 1824 by Webb), and sent it home to Lord Fitzroy. Worked 74 hours. “The superb rapidity of steam was exquisite. On Monday I left Warrington for Liverpool—was there in forty minutes— settled my business, received my second instalment, heard the resolution of the committee about writing to the Duke and flew off to Manchester. Saw my dear boy, paid up his affairs, dined and was off again to Warrington. On Tuesday night I lectured till near ten; and at three on Wednesday morning was off for town, where I arrived by half-past two. Here I arranged for beginning on Thursday, and set to work next day, and to-night have accomplished what I said I would. There is no higher pleasure than a duty successfully achieved. Laus Deo.” The Liverpool committee wrote to the Duke, through Mr Lowndes, stating the subject of the commission they had given to Haydon, and asking the Duke to grant him sittings for it. The Duke replied: Sir, “London, 11th May, 1839. ““T have this day received your letter of the 7th inst. “Tam much flattered by the desire of the gentlemen of Liver- pool to possess a picture of me by Mr Haydon. “JT will, with great pleasure, see Mr Haydon, and will endeavour to 650 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON —_[1839 to fix a time at which it will be in my power to give him sittings to enable him to finish the picture. “ It is not in my power at the present moment. ‘“T have the honour to be, Sir, “Your obedient and humble servant, ‘“ WELLINGTON,” “TI wrote, asking the Duke for an hour and a half. ‘This is his answer: ““* London, 17th May, 1839. ““The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Haydon, and has received his letter. ““* Mr Haydon shall have the Duke’s attendance as soon as he is able to give it. ““* He might as well ask him to sit for ten days at present as for a sitting of an hour and a half.’ “You deceitful Dukey! At this very time you went to Wyatt’s, and gave him an hour at his own room, while you tell me I may as well ask you for ten days. Wyatt called and told me so.” Not satisfied with carrying on a correspondence with the Duke on the subject of his own picture, Haydon (May 23rd) wrote to him on the subject of the Nelson monument, proposing for the committee of selection the plan of gradual elimination adopted in Paris on the occasion of the competition for a monument to General Foy. Next day the Duke answered: “London, 24th May, 1839. “The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Haydon. The Duke is a member of the committee for the execution of the plan for the erecting a monument to the memory of the late Lord Nelson. He is not the committee, nor the secretary to the committee; and, above all, not the corresponding secretary.” ** Fune 1st—The Duke’s picture is decidedly and well advanced this week. In spite of all my troubles I have had great happiness in life. Iam convinced existence is a blessing, and, as Parr said, if men were better would be felt as a blessing. “* 5th.—Worked hard at Copenhagen’s head. I hope I suc- ceeded. I wrote to the Duke to lend me his accoutrements. As yet no answer. “* 6th —Moved all my books upstairs to a small room out of my painting-room, as they seduced me to read at wrong times. I felt pain at the separation, but it is right. I can now retire, read and write after due labour; but I miss my books, and felt melancholy all day. ** Londos, 1839] THE DUKE’S CLOTHES AND ACCOUTREMENTS 651 ““* London, June 6th, 1839. “ “The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Haydon, and regrets much that it is absolutely impossible for him to do what he desires in his note of the 3rd inst.’ “TI sallied forth, and calling on Lord Fitzroy Somerset (who came out in his morning-coat to see me) explained to him my position. He told me both his saddle and the Duke’s—cloth and all—were eaten by moths. He explained to me the nature of everything, authorised me to use his name at Whippey’s, and away I went. ‘‘ Whippey was a blood saddler, thoroughbred, and made all the Duke’s saddles from Salamanca to Waterloo, and, like a fine fellow, said he would fit up everything as the Duke wore it at Waterloo, put it on a horse, and let me paint from the real thing. He walked home with me to see the picture, abused Lord Mel- bourne as he came along for making a sneaking speech, and con- trasted it with the Duke’s, which, he said, was common sense and honour, in which I most cordially joined. He swore the Duke was the greatest man in the world, and that he had made all his saddles, which so increased my reverence I offered him my arm. He took it, and so we walked home. His dress, manners and behaviour were those of a gentleman tradesman. ‘““ He found fault with the bit, and gave good reasons. He thought the head of Copenhagen capital, and like the horse. “In fact Lord Fitzroy has made my fortune. ‘“‘ Lord Fitzroy said the Duke had a daughter of Copenhagen, but not of the same colour. “Thus from the depths of misery and despair I am again on the top, with a distinct view of my glory. ‘““ Such great things are in the power of little men. For who would have believed what, to the great Wellington, was impossible, has been achieved, or will be, by his saddler, Whippey, with the greatest ease? ‘* I do not feel at home in my painting-room without my books. I used to look up and see the books, and imagine (as each name came on my sight) I saw the author: Dante, Petrarch, Homer, Shakespeare, Milton, Spenserand Tasso, with Vasari,smiled vividly like phantasmagoric visions, and my brain teemed with associations of their sublimity or charm. I look now and see a blank wall. “‘ T mused first on my picture, and then on my books, and each helped the conceptions of the other. ‘Such is habit. By degrees down again they come, but I feel ashamed to do it after such an expensive removal. What folly to do it at all, "* June 652 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1839 “* Fune 1oth.—Worked, and certainly with more abstracted devotion to my art than when my books were near; I have stuck at it all day, and in the evening walked up into my book-room. There they were, silent, yet teeming with thoughts, bursting with sublimity. Milton—Satan and all his rebel host filled my mind. Shakespeare—Hamlet, Lear, Falstaff, Cordelia, Imogen, Macbeth and Puck crowded my imagination. I walked about in ecstasy, but read nothing; dwelt on what I had read, and was content. “‘ 1th.—Had bridle and saddle sent by Whippey, and put them on an old hack. Painted a study in the sun, and got the sketch and picture right. Was dreadfully fatigued at night. Whilst I was hard at work, just as I used to be, who should call, after a long absence, but David Wilkie, looking old and feeble! “* His total failure this year seems to have shaken him a little, and the neglect of the Court has brought him more to the feelings of former times. I persuaded him to drink tea, and when David Wilkie stays to tea with B. R. Haydon, B. R. Haydon must be considered on the safe side of the question. It is ten years since he did this. He was amiable and entertaining, as he always used to be. “* He did not like to be reminded that it was thirty years ago since we were in Devonshire. He shrank from his age. I never do; and it is not absurdity to say I feel stronger, after nine hours’ solid painting yesterday, than I did at twenty-seven years of age. We talked of Merimée’s work. He knew him, and considered him a man of theory. I said it would set the young men losing their time instead of studying the figure. He said young men were too lazy ever to read. We talked of the effect of time, and both agreed Titian painted his pictures to look well to his eye, and never considered how they would look one hundred years hence. He told me Northcote said, ‘ If Sir Joshua had known the effect of time he would have painted differently.’ I do not think so, nor did he. “* Sir Joshua could not have painted otherwise. Was not his Heathfield as fine when it was done, as now? Wilkie did not know oil was used in England before Van-Eyk. ‘* rgth.—Notwithstanding the seclusion and quiet of my little room, I do not read with such comfort as in my painting-room, smelling of paint as it does. I have brought down my writing- desk, and shall have about half a dozen favourites on the top— Milton, Shakespeare, Dante, ‘Tasso, Homer, Vasari, and, above all, the Bible and Testament always to refer to, and Words- worth. ‘* 20th.—Sketched the plan of the ground from the model at the Egyptian Hall, and finished the horse’s head. Wyatt, who has 1839] THE NELSON MONUMENT 653 has succeeded in making a capital head of the Duke, told the Duke of my picture, and he seemed pleased. ‘“* Lord and Lady Burghersh called on the 18th, and gave me joy of my picture. “* 22nd.—The Nelson monument is decided, and not in my favour, though my belief is, had I been able to devote myself to make a series of oil-sketches of the pictures, with a grand external view a la Canaletti, the decision would have been in my favour. ‘*A man should never contest for anything with half his strength; do it effectually or not at all. I could not afford the time to do it well, and the time I did afford was thrown to the dogs; so I did it ill, lost my time and did not get it—a very proper punishment. ** Westmacott told Hamilton my design was the only reason- able one. The public, when admitted, decidedly approved, and had it been left to the public, I think I should have had a strong support. It could not be done for the estimate, and the Duke warned everybody £30,000 was the extent. My estimate was £70,000. ‘““ So ends my Nelson affair. What a grand series of pictures I could have made! “* London, June 24th, 1839. “*«The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr Haydon. “ «He begs that Mr Haydon will write his commands. “« The Duke will be engaged all to-morrow and next day in attendance upon the Naval and Military Commission. ‘“““ The Duke must beg leave to decline to have the honour of receiving Mr Haydon till he will have some leisure.’ “ 28th.—Saw Lady Burghersh’s Alcestis. It is really beauti- fully conceived. In looking at a sketch of the Duke, she said, ‘Whilst that was sketching he took this little girl on his lap. He is very fond of children. Don’t you recollect, my love, when Dukey took you in his lap?’ “The terror of Napoleon—Dukey to his niece! ““* We call him Dukey,’ said she, ‘here, Mr Haydon.’ It was exceedingly interesting. ‘“ 29th—Felt very ill from overstrain; so I only sketched Barron, the Irish member, and went to see a fine Guido brought by Buchanan, and a superb Vandyke and Paul Veronese. The Vandyke was exquisite. What tone! what colour! what handling! Oh, they were divinely inspired men. JI know and feel their superb genius. It is St Jerome. “In the evening I lectured at the Mechanics’, and had three VOL. I1.—42 fine 654 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1839 fine young models from 2nd Life Guards, who went through the sword exercise to perfection. ‘The room was crowded. “ 30th.—Last day of the month. Let me look back. I have worked well and got the horse accomplished. Now for the Duke, who won’t lend me his clothes. I can do without them, for I have already drawings of all. He has not seen the picture. He knows not if it be good or bad. ‘Till he sees his way, he declines. ‘The same man in peace or war. But I'll beat him. “Completed my horse, but not satisfied with his hind-quarters ; however, I have got through it, and when dry can alter it. ‘““* London, June 27th, 1839. “ And why did you feel it ? Because you saw it. ‘“ You have lived to your complete victory on earth ; you have nothing now to expect but ‘ Well done, thou good and faithful servant.’ May that hour, for the sake of your friends here, be long deferred ; but it will not the less come. “After the distinction of yesterday my mind instinctively turned to you. Fancy my reception here, and fancy those fellows at the London University conceiving a man of my misfortunes would have injured the religious and moral purity of their character, if I had lectured there. ‘ An ounce and three-quarters of civet,’ or rather a couple of pounds. “Tf I was to die this moment, my dear friend, I would thank God with my last breath for this great opportunity of doing my duty. Hurrah, with all my soul. ““ Your affectionate old friend, ~ Dat FRAY DON, Wordsworth answered: “ Rydal Mount, Ambleside, March rath, 1840. “My dear Haydon, “ Though I have nothing to say but merely words of con- gratulation, hearty congratulation, I cannot forbear to thank you for your letter. You write in high spirits, and I am glad of it: it 1840] A LETTER FROM WORDSWORTH 673 it is only fair that, having had so many difficulties to encounter, you should have a large share of triumph. Nevertheless, though I partake most cordially of your pleasure, I should have been still more delighted to learn that your pencil (for that, after all, is the tool you were made for) met with the encouragement it so well deserves. “TI should have liked to have been among your auditors, particularly so as I have seen not long ago so many first-rate pictures on the Continent, and to have heard you at Oxford would have added largely to my gratification. I love and honour that place for abundant reasons, nor can I ever forget the distinction bestowed upon myself last summer by that noble-minded University. ‘“ Allow me to mention one thing on which, if I were qualified to lecture upon your art, I should dwell with more attention than, so far as I know, has been bestowed upon it—I mean perfection in each kind as far as it is attainable. This in widely different minds has been shown by the Italians, by the Flemings, the Dutch, the Spaniards, the Germans, and why should I exclude the English ? ““ Now, as a masterly, a first-rate ode or elegy, or piece of humour even, is better than a poorly or feebly executed epic poem, so is the picture, though in point of subject the humblest that ever came from an easel, better than a work after Michel Angelo or Raffaele in choice of subject, or aim of style, if moderately per- formed. All styles, down to the humblest, are good, if there be thrown into the choosing all that the subject is capable of, and this truth applies not only to painting, but in degree to every other fine art. Now it is well worth a lecturer’s while who sees the matter in this light, first to point out through the whole scale of Art what stands highest, and then to show what constitutes the appropriate perfection of all, down to the lowest. “Ever, my dear Haydon, faithfully yours, “"W. WorDSWORTH.”’ ““ March 6th and 7th.—Lectured again to increased audiences. I dined last night with Mr ——, Tutor of Exeter, and the Fellows. It was pretty to see the hall rise at our retiring to the common room, and the Tutor, Fellows and myself bow on reaching the door. I spent a very delightful evening with Mr T——, of Magdalen, and S—-—, at our little table. 5S is full of Plato. T had travelled in Greece—a mild, intelligent and gentle- manly man. We talked of the Agamemnon gioriously. I knew it well. ‘To-day I dine at Magdalen, to-morrow with Mr S at Exeter. Thank God, at last I have made my way to society where lam happy. ‘Though evidently not a classical scholar, the scholars here see I seize the thoughts and value the beauties of the great classical writers. 5S said the Athenians were a corrupt and vicious people, and that all their great men were great in 674 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1840 in spite of their tyranny and oppression, and devoted their lives to elevate and improve them. He said it was curious that hardly any boast of the Parthenon or other buildings occurs from authors about this time. ‘Thucydides once, in alluding to Lacedzmon, says, ‘ They have not buildings like ourselves,’ and that’s all. This is odd. T drank tea with me, and passed the evening in looking over my prints. “ Sunday, 8th.—Dined with Professor D—— at Magdalen, and spent a very pleasant evening with the Fellows; surely they are not the Fellows of Gibbon. I saw ‘ no deep and dark pota- tions,’ but a very pleasant quantity, neither deep nor dark; and even if they were so then, it was not quite fair in Gibbon, after sharing their darkness, to betray their deepness. ‘““ roth —Lectured. ‘The Vice-Chancellor Gilbert came, and gave authority to the audience. * Dined with Sir Anthony Croke, near Oxford, and had a great deal of fun. He took me out in a close carriage, and telling some young Oxford bucks they must take me back, sent the carriage away to Oxford. I did not reflect I was then at their mercy, and when I wanted to go the young girls and boys, heated by waltzing, began to think it a good joke to keep the painter late. ‘ Never mind, my dear Mr Haydon,’ said one young dog, ‘ we'll secure you a breakfast,’ and we alllaughed. As this was rebellion against my own will, I determined to bolt quietly, and though I did not know an inch of the road to walk it, I remembered Sir Anthony drove along the great road and turned to the left. So watching my opportunity I bolted out, hurried on my greatcoat, and putting my finger to my lips to a servant jumped the park gate, and was through the village like a racehorse. “ After walking two miles in dinner-shoes I listened, but heard no wheels—so going on I got into the main road, and all was safe; about a mile from Oxford I heard distant galloping and wheels. I knew the young dogs would glory in catching me, so I slipped behind a tree, and they passed me at a devil of a pace, laughing ready to kill themselves. I entered triumphantly about twelve, having had my own way, the greatest of all blessings. ‘“ March 13th.—Last lecture of the six; audience quadrupled. Dined at Dr Shuttleworth’s, and spent a very pleasant evening. “Took my leave, and left Oxford with deep gratitude for my great success. I came to try a new ground. It was neck or nothing, and all classes rushed to hear me till the mania became extraordinary. “‘ t4th.—Arrived home full of enthusiasm, and expecting to find (like the Vicar of Wakefield) every blessing—expecting my dear Mary to hang about my neck, and welcome me at my victory; when 1840] CHEVALIER BRONSTEDT: WILKIE 675 when I found her ouz, not calculating I should be home till dinner. I then walked into town after unstripping: when I returned she was home, and was hurt I did not wait; so this begat mutual allusions which were anything but loving or happy. So much for anticipations of human happiness! ‘‘ Perhaps this necessary bit of evil was a proper check on my vanity. ‘* 77th.—Went to see my Samson at the Suffolk Street Gallery. Met Colonel Sibthorp: I asked in the course of conversation what was the principal cause of being successful as a speaker in the House of Commons. ‘ Never let your points be deferred till the dinner hour,’ said he: ‘ always finish a little before.’ ‘* 21st—Went to church at George Street, Hanover Square. Afterwards called on Hamilton, and found Chevalier Bronstedt. Had a most interesting conversation about the Greeks. He agreed with me as to the painting of the Greeks, that it was quite equal to their sculpture. He seems to have new theories about Theseus being Cephalus. He told us by calculation the gold on the statue of Minerva was £150,000 sterling in worth. ‘“‘ T never knew that water was kept as in a well under the great ivory statues, and a trench full went round them to prevent their cracking. ‘“‘ He thought the Minerva might have been moved by Con- stantine. We talked of the French Revolution and of the bloody horrors of it. Hamilton said a French bishop offered some books to him once, and in recommendation of them said one was bound in a man’s skin. “ 22nd.—Called on Wilkie. He kept me so long waiting that I rang the bell and asked the servant if he was up. She said he was at breakfast. I said,‘ Have you a fire anywhere? Iam cold and will take a walk,’ and I marched off. “This was nothing but his want of manner. Just as I was sitting down to dinner a knock came to the door. I said, ‘ That’s Wilkie.’ Mary said, ‘ No, no.’ In came the servant and said, ‘ Sir David Wilkie.’ I went up and rowed him well for keeping me in the cold. He said ‘ I was breakfasting.’ I said, ‘ That’s no matter, you should have come out.’ ‘““He came down and chatted. I asked him before Mrs Haydon if he remembered my lending him an old black coat to go to Barry’s lying in state, which was too short for his long arms. He did, and seemed to relish it. I asked him if he recollected dancing round the table with Jackson when I read his name for the first time in a paper, the News. He said he did. I asked him if he remembered my breakfasting with him the first time in Norton Street front parlour. He did. He told some capital 676 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1840 capital things. When Sir Walter was a child his mother and family were all dressed one evening to go out. There was a long discussion. Sir Walter remembered his mother saying, ‘ No, no. Watty canna understand the great Mr Garrick.’ Scott used to tell this, and always was indignant at the supposition. “He told us in the rebellion of 1745 a lady from the Highlands came to his father’s house for shelter. She brought a herb in paper, which she put in hot water and boiled, and gave all the family a little, and they were delighted. ‘This was tea—the year it was introduced. 7 “* 25th.—Finished Rogers’s Napoleon. Worked hard. “* 26th.—Saw Faraday about lecturing at the Royal Institution. Found him frank, lively and kind. “* 29th.—Went to church with my dear old landlord, Newton. When we were in, I was affected at all the disputes, kindnesses and fights we had had. He has been to me and my family an everlasting friend, a pivot to work on, an anchor to trust to, such as I believe no other human being ever had before. “I thank God for it with my heart. He does not look so well as he ought. If I lose him I shall lose a man indeed. “On reviewing this week I have done well. I have worked hard, finished Rogers’s Napoleon, and advanced the picture for Miller of Liverpool, and made the sketch for my Leeds commission. “* 30th.—Breakfasted with Chevalier Bronstedt at the Sabloniére. He explained to me his views of the pediments of the Parthenon, and they appeared to me excellent. I am not quite sure about the Cephalus, though what he said was very just—that there was a mythological chronology, and an historical chronology, and that at the birth of Minerva Theseus was never in existence, whereas Cephalus was, being taken to heaven by Eos, and made keeper of heaven’s gates. ““ He told me the creed of the Athenians was different from Homer’s and from the belief of Asia Minor. He is an intelligent and amiable man. He did Napoleon when musing on parade for me capitally—his taking snuff, his walk, his looking round, etc. I took him to see my Lazarus and Xenophon.” On the 1oth of April Haydon had begun a picture of Mary Queen of Scots showing her infant (afterwards our James the First) to Sir Ralph Sadleir, the English Ambassador—a subject which had been suggested to him in the course of his reading while in Scotland in 1839. “15th.—The King’s College Council has appointed a pro- fessor of Fine Art—huzza! ‘This is a great point, and must be attributed to the influence of my success at Oxford. Have I not struggled toattainthis? ‘Thesejournals willshowit. Worked hard. “* 16th. 1840] SALE OF BENJAMIN WEST’S PICTURE 677 “* 16th.—Lectured at Islington with great success. Worked hard. The Scotch picture nearly done. I am not satisfied with my mode of painting a head—not at all. It has not the system of a practised artist, but I will conquer it. I see character so soon, I dash at it before my surface and colour are impastoed enough, and get the expression before my preparation is ready to receive it, and then don’t like to meddle. “This is for want of perpetual head-painting, as in portrait. “* 8th.—Hard at work, and finished, except a little to a hand, the picture of the Highland Lovers for Miller of Liverpool. ** Now for Romeo and Juliet, for —— at Hull. “* 26th.—I awoke early with a singular bland light on the truth of Christianity. It spread over my soul as if ready to depart. Had the angel of death appeared, I would have hailed him; but years of struggle are yet to come before I shall be called hence. “The past week has been well passed. I have worked beauti- fully, been rewarded well, and bow in gratitude.” The sale of West’s picture of the Annunciation, under the circumstances detailed in the note,! produced this comment. 1 “ Sale extraordinary.—On Wednesday last, the grand picture of the Annunciation, painted by the late Benjamin West, President of the Royal Academy, was brought to the hammer, by Mr Graves, of Mortimer Street. This picture, which is of very large dimensions, originally cost £800. It occupied, from the year 1817 to 1826, a large space in the centre of the splendid organ in Marylebone new church. It was subsequently placed in the Queen’s bazaar; but for nearly fourteen years past it has been lying in its case, useless, in a lumber-room of St Marylebone court-house. The auctioneer read the following extract from the vestry minutes of St Marylebone, in reference to the picture, dated Feb. 15th, 1817: ‘I have always regulated my charge for historical paintings; and under these regulations I charge the parish £800 for the picture now in the new church of St Marylebone. Were I a man of independent property, I would request the vestry to honour me by accepting this picture as a gratuitous mark of my profound respect for the parish.—Signed Benj. West, Newman Street, Feb. 14th, 1817.’ Whereupon it was moved and seconded that £800 be paid to Mr West, which was done accordingly. After reading this document, the auctioneer proceeded to expatiate on the great merits of the picture, and the fame of the artist by whom it was painted. A considerable time elapsed before a bidding could be got. At length the sum of ten guineas was offered, and notwithstanding the auctioneer had promised the receipt with the autograph of the late Benjamin West should be given to the purchaser, not a bidding could be obtained above the first sum offered. Thus, that picture which cost the sum of £800 finally sold for the 8oth part of its original cost. It is understood that during the time the picture stood in the Queen’s bazaar, the sum of £100 was offered for it and refused. The purchaser is Mr John Wilson, of Charles Street, Middlesex Hospital, who we believe contemplates transmitting the picture to America, the native land of the artist, and where his works seem to be better appreciated than in our own country. Surely, while so many new churches are in progress of erection here, 6s It 678 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1840 ‘“‘ It speaks a great deal. Had the picture fetched 800 guineas, it would have been worthy of the blindness of 1817. It was a disgrace to Mr West to have charged 800. West was a man of no deep genius, no profound feeling, no refined drawing, no radical knowledge, no colour, no expression. His Wolfe and La Hogue are his greatest works. His attempts at High Art are without elevation; his characters beggarly. He was as incapable of conceiving or executing the character of Christ as he was of performing His miracles. Exactly as the nation gets enlightened will West sink. He could no more conceive an angel than he could execute an apostle; and this is the man Shee said was the greatest man since Domenichino, Rubens and Rembrandt intervening ! ‘* This is a specimen of what I call the imposture of Academies. Had there been no Academicians to encumber the school of Art, Reynolds, Hogarth, Wilson, Wilkie and Landseer would have been as great as ever, but West would never have been considered a great man, or Shee a man at all. ‘““ May 11th.—Little or nothing in painting. Sent off the Highland Lovers to Miller of Liverpool by train. ‘ On ne fait bien que ce qu’on fait sot méme.’ I went to see it weighed and safe, and lost a morning. “* y2th.—Worked fairly, but not furiously; I can’t on a small picture. Life is really not long enough for Art. I feel with small pictures as if I had nothing on my shoulders, which I always like to have. I'll soon be at my large canvas. ‘* 21st—Worked and finished the Juliet, and hope to conclude to-morrow. 100 guineas in five weeks is twenty guineas a week; not enough to save out of, though I am grateful. ‘“‘ 24th—Sunday. Went to church and prayed very sincerely. ‘* Called on Wilkie, who was much annoyed at the press saying he could not paint portraits, in consequence of his villanous portrait of the Queen. Wilkie is unfairly treated. Surely his Lord Kellie, the Duke of Sussex, and George the Fourth, are fine portraits; yet the public voice has loudly affirmed he cannot paint portraits. How differently John Bull treats him and me. I have no rank or station—he has. Jam overwhelmed with abuse —he dandled till his feet touch the ground, and then put down on velvet. such a work should not be suffered to be taken from England. It speaks but little for the state of the Fine Arts, that such a chef-d’euvre as an Annunciation could be purchased at a sum so ridiculously beneath its value. Se We understand that the picture was originally removed from the church of St Marylebone, at the instigation of the then rector and several of the congregation, as giving the church a Popish appearance.” ** 26th. 1840} THE PROPHETS OF MICHEL ANGELO 679 “ 26th.—Finished my Romeo and Juliet, and now my employer (a Hull dealer) won’t pay me my balance, £45, till I deliver the work, and I won’t deliver it till I get the balance. How unlike the nobility. Everything with Lords Mulgrave, Egremont, Sutherland and Grey, with Peel and all of that class, was honour and faith. All paid me long before the work went home. I told this noodle it must dry hard before I glazed it, or it would crack; and for this bit of honesty he won’t pay first. A bill of £39, tos., due the 28th, I can’t pay, and now begin again illegal interest and all the distractions of pecuniary want. The Liverpool men are twice as liberal, and the Leeds men too; but at Hull they are a fierce democratic race, and mistrust their own fathers. ““Mr Rogers called, and brought home his Napoleon to be glazed. He paid me at once, and waited my time of toning, like a man. “* 29th —The Queen Dowager has headed my list for the Duke. I admire her character, so I feel much honoured. ““Lectured at the Mechanics, and exhibited two powerful young wrestlers stripped above and below. The effect was prodigious—the grouping exquisite—the tumbling rapturously applauded; it did immense good. ““ 31st——Saw Bewicke’s (my pupil’s) copy of the Sibyls and Prophets of Michel Angelo—very finely drawn and copied; but it is wonderful how little a man who copies so well can do for himself. ‘The style of Michel Angelo belongs to the place he painted in, and was necessary to render his designs visible or effective. «'[his seen in rooms seems exaggeration. In the naked he was not as deep as the Greeks, and all my assertions are con- firmed. But the Erythraa and Lybica are very fine in expression. “* Fune 1st—Went again to see Bewicke’s copies from Michel Angelo—the giant barbarian of European Art—the Attila. “And this is the grand style—figures painted to be looked at sixty feet off brought into a drawing-room to be studied at six, and recommended to the students. “‘ 2nd.—Corrected the etching of the Duke. The effect of these copies of Michel Angelo is enervating. You sit and muse; such a glorious opportunity for size—such a patron—such a combination of genius and opportunity rarely happens on earth; and it is altogether so much out of the reach of ordinary oppor- tunity, that I think it rather overpowers than stimulates. ““ I can account for feeble minds becoming feebler from going to Italy. The gap between their humbler notions and what they see 1s so great that the imagination crushes their hopes, their energies, their ambition. They become copyists, imitators, connoisseurs, dealers, or slaves, and the remainder of their days is 680 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1840 is a nervous chatter about the grand style. Such were Otley, Prince Hoare, and hundreds of others—Wilkie too. God save me from such a disease—from such a horror. Italy was Wilkie’s ruin. ‘““ 3rd—Went to the drawings from Michel Angelo; staid an hour, and full of their style went to my own Lazarus. The drawing in the Lazarus, and the hands and feet, is decidedly more correct. ‘The head of Lazarus was equal in its way to the Delphic Sibyl’s; but though broad, it had not that overpowering breadth of effect which I saw in the one of Jeremiah, full size, at Mr Thompson’s, Belgrave Street, who bought it at Lawrence’s sale. That figure proves Michel Angelo had an eye for colour. “But what absurdity to pull things from dark recesses sixty feet high—things which were obliged to be painted lighter, drawn fuller, and coloured harder than nature warrants, to look like life at the distance—and to bring them down to the level of the eye in a drawing-room, and adore them as the purest examples of form, colour, expression and character. They were never meant to be seen at that distance, or in that space. “Thus the student is perplexed, and seduced, and corrupted with ridiculous notions of what is truly grand. The works of this wonderful man have ruined a thousand artists to one they have educated and improved. ‘“‘ In drawing they are grossly defective. Daniel’s left foot and leg would have disgraced Bewicke before he ran from my tuition to the shelter of Academical wings. Had he, in the position of Daniel’s left arm, made the biceps with that contour, he would have been quizzed by the Landseers, by Lance, by Harvey, by Chatfield, and by Prentice, his brother-pupils. Had he put that undulation below the supinator in the left forearm of the Cumzan Sibyl two inches higher than it ought to be, he would have been laughed at by the public. Had he marked the elbow of the Erythrzean so, my old lifeguardsman, Sammons, would have told him he was wrong, and made him alter it. “It was in 1816, now twenty-four years ago, during the Elgin Marble controversy, I strolled to Burlington House to study the beauty of the marbles for an hour before painting, when I found a young man drawing amidst the fragments with great truth. I asked him if he were an artist. He replied he wished to be. I told him to bring me his drawings. Next day at breakfast he did. I was so pleased, I told him if he would place himself under my tuition I would instruct him. He did so. I educated him for three years without payment—superintended his dissections at Sir C. Bell’s—gave up my time to him; and when he was ready, sent him and the Landseers to the British Museum, 1840] HIS SCHOOL 681 Museum, where they made from the Elgin Marbles those cele- brated drawings, the size of the originals, which gave them so much reputation that Goethe ordered a set for Weimar, where they are still shown in his house, and to which, just before his death, he alluded in a letter to me. Finding my pupils, and Bewicke especially, doing such justice to the Elgin Marbles, I resolved to endeavour to get at the Cartoons; and stating my object to a friend, he induced Lords Stafford and Farnborough to go to George IV. and ask leave to have two at a time at the British Gallery, which they did, and got it. “I then sent my whole school to the Gallery, and there they drew from the Cartoons the size of the originals, and I led the way. When done, the rush to see the copies was so great the doors were closed for fear of injury. “I then exhibited the drawings in St James’s Street; here the people of fashion crowded for days. ‘The next year I followed up the hit with Jerusalem, but the picture not being bought, though the receipts were vast, I began to get embarrassed. During Jerusalem Lord de Tabley gave me a commission. I begged him to transfer it to Bewicke, as he was a young man of promise. He did so; and he was paid sixty guineas for his first picture. His second Sir William Chaytor bought; and during his third, his landlord refused to let him proceed unless I became security for hisrent. Ididso. Inthe meantime I was becoming rapidly involved, and having helped Bewicke in his difficulties, I thoughtlessly asked him to help me by the usual iniquities of a struggling man, namely, accommodation bills. Bewicke and Harvey both did so; these were not accommodation bills to raise money on, but accommodation bills to get time extended for money already owing. When in the hands of a lawyer, if I wanted time, “Get another name’ was the reply. As I wished for secrecy I asked these young men, into whose hands I had put the means of getting a living without charging a farthing. As the father of a family I now see the indelicacy and wickedness of this conduct. But at that time I was young, a bachelor, at the head of a forlorn hope, and I relied on the honour and enthusiasm of my pupils. I had reduced Bewicke’s liabilities from £236 to £136, and Harvey’s from {£284 to £184, and whilst in the act of extricating them I got through the Lazarus and was ruined. There is no excuse for my inducing my pupils to lend their names as security for bills, but I was in such a state of desperation that I wonder at nothing. “* Bewicke hoisted the enemies’ colour at once; not so Lance, Chatfield, Tatham, or the Landseers. Lance’s friends advanced £125, Landseer’s father £70, Say £50, Chatfield paid up his premium, 682 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1840 premium, {210. ‘They all rallied, but too late. In proportion to the greatness of my effort, so was my fall, and the boys, who, if I had been employed, would have been right hands, branched off into different pursuits to get a living. Lance I advised to take to fruit; Chatfield painted portraits; Say always meant to do so; but they never recovered the shock. Chatfield, just before he died, dined with me and talked of it as a glorious dream passed by. But had there been no Royal Academy to calumniate, oppose, and torment us—had the Art been as clear in our time as in that of Reynolds—our fate would have been different indeed. ‘* 4th.—Worked, and finished the robe of Mary of Guise. ‘* sth.—Put on effectually the second layer of colour. Rubens’s method is the best for rapid work: ‘Titian’s for slow and pro- gressive. Rubens washed in over a white ground. “ 6th.—Wrote my life all day. No money came, and I have bills all next week. “* =th.—Went to church, and returned in a better state of mind than I went. The prospect of pecuniary trouble again harassed me, but I threw myself on the mercy of God. I don’t deserve it. I have worked hard for it, and cannot get my money, on which I depended, but I do not despair. “I shall get rid of my paltry little pictures, and then at a large canvas, which is always a blessing and a support. God bless me. ‘* 8th.—Reader, you see I always trusted in God. This day I received £75 from Miller, the Liverpool merchant, the balance for the Duke, and this has saved me, as it is the link between two sums: but for this an execution would have entered my house, and the old scenes of horror would have come over again. Began the Poictiers for dear old Billy (Newton). “* 2th, 13th—Exceedingly excited and exhausted. I attended the great convention of the Anti-Slavery Society at Freemasons Hall. Last Wednesday a deputation called on me from the committee, saying they wished a sketch of the scene. The meeting was very affecting. Poor old Clarkson was present, with delegates from America and other parts of the world. I returned after making various sketches, and put in an oil one. “* 13th.—I breakfasted with Clarkson, and sketched him and his dear grandson, and his daughter, as the most beautiful of the group. ‘John Beaumont said, ‘ We will guarantee thee from loss for the sketch.’ ‘* 15th.—Breakfasted with Clarkson, and made another and a more aged sketch, though a friend said of the other, ‘It had an indignant humanity.’ I said, ‘Mr Clarkson, those who have a great national object should be virtuous, and see God daily, “ enduring, 1840] ANTI-SLAVERY CONVENTION 683 ‘“‘ enduring, as seeing one who is invisible.”’ ‘They should indeed,’ said Clarkson, ‘it supported me; I have worked day and night, and I have awoke in convulsions after reading the evidence of the horrors of the slave trade.’ ‘ Christianity,’ said I, ‘is the power of God unto salvation. It is of heart and internal conviction, not of evidence and external proof.’ ‘ Ah,’ said Clarkson, ‘ what a blessing is the religious feeling. The natural man sees flowers and hears birds, and is pleased; the religious man attributes all to God.’ ““ He looks like a man whose nerves had been strained. I said, ‘I have a cause at my heart, though not of so much interest to mankind as yours. I hope God wiil bless it.’ ‘““ From him I went to the committee, and arranged for four sitters to-morrow, and then returned home to receive Lord Burghersh. From Poictiers we got on the Duke. He told me the Duke says, ‘ They blame me for having a defile in my rear, the forest of Soignies. With 10,000 for a rear-guard in that wood, I would have defied Buonaparte or any army on earth. If they blame me, what do they say of Buonaparte, who fought a battle with three defiles in his rear, which were the ruin of his army?’ Capital sense! The three defiles were Charleroi, Gemappes, and Quatre Bras. “* 16th.—Went to the slavery convention at seven, and drew till four; breakfasted with them. ‘““ 17th.—Went to the convention again at seven. Drew till four. Made fourteen sketches of heads in one day till my brain got dazzled. I have made thirty sketches in three days. Whilst I was sketching Mr Scobell, M. Cordier, the French avocat, came to arrange. ‘ Monsieur, est-1l nécessaire de venir dans mes régi- mentaux de pair de France?’ JI ought to have said, ‘ Ou1, vous n’avez pas emancipé les esclaves ; mais les régimentaux de pair de France équivalent.’ ‘““Good God! In such a cause to think of his costume as a ‘pair de France.’ I only ask you, reader, if that fact is not enough? “The other Frenchman (M. Crémieux) made an appointment at nine, at 44 Piccadilly. JI drove up and he was out. Down came Madame in her dishabille. She assured me, ‘ Que monsieur était sortt touchant les affaires les plus importantes du monde, mais a dix heures, monsteur,’ and I took my leave. “ 17th to 20th.—All passed sketching heads at the convention. I did fifty-two in five days. ** 25th.—Colonel Gurwood sat to me for my Waterloo Gallery. He said the Duke never liked solicitation for others. He liked every man to speak for himself. Gurwood said he lived two years 684 MEMOIRS OF B. R. HAYDON [1840 years in the same house with the Duke; and he always stated whatever he wanted in a letter. “The Duke complained to Gurwood that liberties were taken with him. He said, when he went to Court after William IV.’s death, the Duke of Cambridge said, ‘ Why, Duke, why d’ye have your hair so short?’ Directly after, the Duke of Sussex said, “Why you are not in mourning, Duke?’ The Duke said, ‘I ordered black, your Royal Highness.’ ‘ Ah,’ said he, ‘ it is not black. It is what the French call téte-de-négre.’ ‘'The Duke of Marlborough,’ said the Duke to Gurwood, ‘ because he was an old man, was treated like an old woman. I won’t be. And the reason why I have a right never to have a liberty taken with me, is because I never take a liberty with any man.’ Colonel Gurwood said that the Duke, although he had known Lord Fitzroy Somerset from a boy, always called him Lord Fitzroy. ““ He told me the Duke keeps the key of the glass of his Cor- reggio, and when the glass is foul, dusts it himself with his handkerchief. He asked him once for this key, and he replied, ‘No I won't.’ “* He asked him once for a cloak to paint from, and he refused, saying he would not lend his clothes; thus confirming Wilkie, Wyatt, and myself. ‘“* Upon the whole the Duke has been made too much of at the wrong period of his life, and too little of at the fine time. He fears insult at every breeze. Because he knows himself old, he fears people take liberties with him. Poor dear old man. ‘* Gurwood said he told him he gave {1000 a year away because the Government would not put the demands relating to his Wardenship of the Cinque Ports on the estimates. ‘“* Gurwood said that in the year when Alexander’s house failed the Duke gave away at least {6000. One day he found the Duke sealing up bank notes, and sending off envelope after envelope, and the Duke said he ought to be as rich as Croesus, and have -mines without end. “* 29th.—Lucretia Mott, the leader of the delegate women from America, sat. I found her out to have infidel notions, and resolved at once, narrow-minded or not, not to give her the prominent place I first intended. I will reserve that for a beautiful believer in the Divinity of Christ. ** 30th.—Scobell called. I said, ‘ I shall place you, Thompson, and the negro together.’ Now an abolitionist on thorough principle would have gloried in being so placed. ‘This was the touchstone. He sophisticated immediately on the propriety of placing the negro in the distance, as it would have much greater effect. ** Now PLATE X THE MEMBERS OF THE ANTI-SLAVERY CONVENTION. By B. R. HAyYDON. From the original painting in the National Portrait Gallery. he ‘ ‘ears in the same house with the Duke; aed he ale Sade nea ee e-1rv A oH at 10 ie a wt 5 The Duke e papt ered ts deurwoed tak Khe: te QOS KH, &. ee 1anenlys ba | a Pasttgnnd te tid a6 dl} ine ,oyy ero hic att’ a zl 0h) | att ‘ be your hai he mn