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 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
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 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924031226966 
 
A.WEl3anatCQ.Do5lc 
 
 
A SKETCH OF 
 
 CHESTER -HARDING, ARTIST 
 
 DRAWN BY HIS OWN HAND 
 
 EDITED BY HIS DAUGHTER 
 
 MARGARET E. WHITE 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
 <arie Rterpi&e Pre#& CambriDge 
 
 1890 
 
 @ 
 
The Riverside Prtss, Cambridge, Mass., XT, S.A. 
 Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Uoughtou & Company. 
 
Unknown it is to me, who handed down 
 
 From sire to son niy humble family ; 
 
 Whether they dwelt in low obscurity, 
 
 Or by achievements purchased high renown ; 
 
 Whether with princely or baronial crown 
 
 Their brows were bound, or martyr-wreath of flame : 
 
 No glories mark the track through which my name 
 
 Hath come : I only know it as my own. 
 
 Alfokd. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Introduction 5 
 
 CHAPTER I. 1792-1817. 
 Boyhood. — Forest Clearing. — Army Life. — Mar- 
 riage. — Poverty. — Sign-painting 19 
 
 CHAPTER H. 1817-1823. 
 Beginning of Career as Artist. — Life in Pittsburgh ; 
 Paris, Ky. ; St. Louis ; Horthampton. — Departure 
 for England 37 
 
 CHAPTER III. 1823-1824. 
 Contemporary Notices. — Lines by Miss L. J. Park. 
 
 — Voyage to England. — Birmingham. — London. 
 
 — Sir Thomas Lawrence. — Letters to S. F. Ly- 
 man. — Letters to his Wife. — Mr. Hunter ... 60 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 1824. 
 Holkham. — Duke of Sussex. — Letters to his Wife. 
 
 — Letters to S. F. L. — Glasgow. — New Lanark. 
 
 — Duke of Hamilton 
 
 CHAPTER V. 1824-1826. 
 Ireland. — Duke of Norfolk. — Paris. — Glasgow. — 
 Journey to London. — Arrival of Family in Glas- 
 gow. — Return to Boston. — Sonnet by J. S. 
 Knowles I 34 
 
iv CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 1826-1830. 
 Letters. — Emily Marshall ; Timothy Pickering ; 
 Washington Allston ; N. P. Willis ; Judge Mar- 
 shall ; John Randolph ; J. C. Calhoun ; Daniel 
 Webster. — Home in Springfield, Mass 176 
 
 CHAPTER VH. 
 Letters from 1836-1864 204 
 
 CHAPTER VIH. 1846-1847. 
 Second Visit to England. — Paints Rogers ; Alison ; 
 Lord Aberdeen. — Salmon Fishing. — Return to 
 Boston 218 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 1846-1866. 
 Daniel Webster. — Letters. — Love of Boston. — 
 Letters during the War of the Rebellion. — TTia 
 Last Picture. — Illness. — Death. — Notices by 
 the Press 240 
 
NOTE ON THE PORTRAITS. 
 
 The portraits in this volume are photogravure repro- 
 ductions from paintings by Chester Harding. The 
 frontispiece was painted in 1859, when the artist was 
 in his sixty-eighth year, and is the latest of his portraits 
 of himself. The earlier one, facing page 134, was 
 painted in London in 1824, at the age of thirty-two. The 
 portrait, facing page 88, of Mrs. Harding at the age of 
 twenty-seven was painted in 1821, within two years of 
 his first effort. The other likeness of her, facing page 
 204, was made eighteen years later. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The generation to which Chester Hard- 
 ing belonged has passed off the stage. There 
 must be many still living, however, who 
 can recall him as an old man of command- 
 ing presence, with white hair and flowing 
 beard, whose uncommonly tall figure, though 
 slightly bowed by age, was still enough 
 above the average height to make him con- 
 spicuous in any assembly ; and whose hand- 
 some face expressed kindliness and humor. 
 Nature was bountiful to him in an unusual 
 degree, and to uncommon personal attrac- 
 tions added a mind of more than ordinary 
 power, quick perceptions, and a love for 
 the beautiful in nature and art. He was so 
 ready to see and assimilate into his own be- 
 ing all the refinements of cultivated men 
 and manners that, for those who saw him 
 for the first time, it was difficult to believe 
 that he was absolutely without school educa- 
 tion, and that he had grown to maturity in 
 the wilds of what was then the far "West. 
 
6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Washington Allston, in a letter to a friend, 
 writes of him, — 
 
 " In most cases we should regard as a misfor- 
 tune the want of early education, which was de- 
 nied Mr. Harding's youth, but Nature has been 
 too liberal to him to make any feel, however his 
 own modesty may cause him to regret, the need 
 of it, for in forming him she has not only made 
 him a painter, but a gentleman ; and you know 
 her too well not to know that she does her work 
 far better than any Schools." 1 
 
 His appearance in Boston, sixty years ago, 
 was greeted with enthusiasm, and for the 
 moment he was the paramount object of in- 
 terest. It showed the quality of the man 
 that the flattering attentions which he re- 
 ceived did not in the least bias his judgment 
 of his own worth, nor create a ripple of van- 
 ity in his breast. 
 
 He was an incessant worker. The needs 
 of his large family gave him but small op- 
 portunity for leisure. He so deeply felt the 
 deficiencies of his own mental training that 
 he was eager to give to his children all the 
 educational advantages that money could 
 procure, and they were sent to the best 
 schools of the period. To secure the funds 
 
 1 From Lippincott's Magazine, January, 1874, "Chester 
 Harding, the self-made Artist,' ' by Osmond Tiffany. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 necessary to meet these expenses required 
 constant care and forethought, and obliged 
 him to go from city to city to find the sup- 
 ply of sitters, which too long a stay in one 
 place was sure to exhaust. This made his 
 life a roving one, and kept him much from 
 home. He was singularly fortunate, how- 
 ever, in his wife. Her uncommon powers 
 of judgment, and her thoroughly well-bal- 
 anced nature, made her an admirable coun- 
 terpoise to his more impulsive tempera- 
 ment. His frequent and prolonged absences 
 from his home threw the chief care and re- 
 sponsibility of bringing up their ten chil- 
 dren upon her. Towards the close of her 
 life she writes, "To-morrow I shall have 
 been married twenty -four years, and my 
 husband has not been at home for more 
 than ten years of that time. The longest 
 stay he has ever made without going away 
 at all is one year." She relieved her hus- 
 band of most of the cares which commonly 
 devolve upon the father of a family, and 
 left him free to come and go as he thought 
 best. After her unlooked-for and untimely 
 death, at fifty, Wm. B. O. Peabody, D. D., 
 characterized her as " wise, disinterested, 
 true-hearted, of few words but strong affec- 
 tions, — feeling that her many cares within 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the domestic circle did not allow her to 
 wander often or far beyond it, and yet al- 
 ways earnest to do what she was able in the 
 cause of humanity." 
 
 Her friend, Mrs. A. J. Lyman, of North- 
 ampton, thus speaks of her in a letter to her 
 sister : — 1 
 
 " You have heard of the sudden death of Mrs. 
 Harding ? There has always been something 
 about her that I have felt a great respect for ; 
 a quiet consistency in goodness, a common-sense 
 purpose that attained its end, a cultivated per- 
 ception of moral sentiment, as well as the beauti- 
 ful in nature. And everything about her so un- 
 pretending and sincere that one could not know 
 her well and withhold their respect. Contemplat- 
 ing her character strengthens my confidence in 
 the goodness of human nature. It gives me 
 faith in virtue, and makes me feel that it is a 
 reality." 
 
 The death of such a woman was an irrep- 
 arable loss to her husband and family. 
 
 Coirid a complete list of Mr. Harding's 
 works be given, it would be a worthy monu- 
 ment to his industry. He worked rapidly, 
 and his fine physical organization helped 
 him to bear the strain of incessant applica- 
 
 1 Recollections of my Mother, by Susan I. Lesley, p. 
 391. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 tion to his brush. He was rarely ill. He 
 had occasional attacks of dyspepsia as well 
 as painter's colic, but a few days or weeks 
 of trout-fishing, for which he had a pas- 
 sion, or of hunting, would bring him right 
 again. 
 
 Owing to his roving habits his portraits 
 are scattered all over the Union, as well as 
 through England and Scotland, which makes 
 it impossible to get anything like a complete 
 list of them. It is safe to say, however, 
 that there are few of the eminent men of 
 the United States who lived during the first 
 thirty years of Mr. Harding's career whom 
 he did not put on canvas. His likenesses, es- 
 pecially of men, were true and life-like. In 
 a biographical notice of him in the " Atlantic 
 Monthly " for April, 1867, Samuel Bowles 
 says of them : — 
 
 "A characteristic of his portraits was their 
 suggestiveness. They seem to give us, not only 
 the prominent expression of the countenance at 
 the moment, but the possibilities of its expres- 
 sion in other moods. Hints of temperament and 
 of character lurk in the fine lines which nature 
 draws upon the living face ; the more observable 
 features really have but little part in the chang- 
 ing play of the countenance. And in Harding's 
 portraits the chief excellence is their thorough 
 
10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 comprehension of the subject, their representa- 
 tion of the man, and not simply of the conforma- 
 tion of his features at a particular period." 
 
 Among the many testimonials which the 
 fidelity of his likenesses was constantly receiv- 
 ing, none pleased Mr. Harding so much as 
 the following : — 
 
 A lady had recently died, and her pet cat 
 had been wandering dejectedly about the 
 house, evidently in search of something 
 which she missed. At last she entered a 
 room, where a likeness (by Harding) of her 
 late mistress was standing on a sofa. The 
 creature at once gave a bound, and tried to 
 settle herself in her accustomed place on the 
 old lady's lap. 
 
 Mr. Harding's personal appearance was 
 very striking. A friend says of him, " He 
 was the finest specimen of manly beauty I 
 ever saw." In stature he was far above the 
 average, measuring six feet three in his 
 stockings; while his frame was so finely 
 proportioned that his height was not fully 
 appreciated until compared with that of an 
 average-sized man. His muscular power 
 was prodigious ; and one of his brothers 
 relates that, when he was eighteen years 
 old, his feats of strength were the wonder 
 
INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 of the neighborhood. While he was help- 
 ing his father to clear up the land, after 
 moving to western New York, he with the 
 help of a friend, also of great size and 
 strength, would themselves drag away and 
 pile up the fallen timber, instead of resort- 
 ing to the use of oxen, as their fellow-work- 
 men were accustomed to do. In chopping 
 wood, these two could each chop, split, and 
 pile four cords of wood a day, which was 
 just double the amount of an ordinary day's 
 work. 
 
 His hands and feet were so large that he 
 was obliged to import his gloves, and to 
 have his lasts made for him. The width 
 between his eyes was such that an ordinary 
 pair of spectacles would but half cover them. 
 His uncommon size sometimes brought him 
 into comically inconvenient situations. He 
 used to tell with great glee, how, in warm 
 weather, he would draw his short bedstead 
 up to the window, in some out-of-the-way 
 country tavern, and have the eomfort of 
 stretching himself at full length, by resting 
 his feet on the window-sill. Once, in mak- 
 ing a journey on a canal-boat, he found that 
 he had not room to turn over in his berth ; 
 but as he was sadly cramped by lying on 
 one side so long, he had to find relief, which 
 
12 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 he did by squeezing himself side-ways be- 
 tween the berths and the table which ex- 
 tended down the cabin, until he reached the 
 small vestibule on the outside of the boat. 
 Here he had room to turn around, and when 
 he reached his narrow bed again, he, of 
 course, was able to get into it on his other 
 side and to spend the remainder of the night 
 in comparative comfort. During the later 
 years of his life he wore a full beard, which 
 as well as his hair was almost white, giv- 
 ing him a patriarchal appearance. A few 
 months before his death, he sat to an artist 
 as a model for the head of St. Peter. 
 
 There was in his manner, particularly to 
 young people, a heartiness and kindliness 
 which universally attracted them to him ; 
 and he possessed an intuitive perception of 
 other people's tastes and feelings which pre- 
 vented his saying or doing anything that 
 would be disagreeable to them. He was 
 full of humor, and had a thorough apprecia- 
 tion of wit in others. 
 
 This quality often stood him in stead of 
 any more serious way of criticising the 
 faults of his family. One of his sons, whose 
 usual demeanor was so staid that he was 
 nicknamed the Deacon, had been sent from 
 college to spend a few weeks in the bosom 
 
INTRODUCTION. 13 
 
 of his family, for blowing tin horns on the 
 night of April first. The ludicrousness of 
 the whole proceeding entertained the young 
 man's father greatly, and no other notice 
 was ever taken of the misdemeanor than a 
 reference to him, when a question about any 
 literary matter came up in the family, say- 
 ing, " There is my son who has just gradu- 
 ated with college honors : ask him, he can 
 undoubtedly tell us." 
 
 He had a unique way of expressing his 
 hearer's quickness to appreciate his jokes, 
 by a series of telegraphic signs made to one 
 of his children. If his hearer was slow of 
 comprehension he formed an obtuse angle 
 with his fingers ; if the reverse, an acute one, 
 and no one but the favored child had any 
 idea of his opinion having been given. 
 
 He had a quick, impulsive nature ; and, 
 after once coming to a decision about any 
 course of action, was very eager to carry out 
 his plans. His wife was fond of giving an 
 account of their wedding, as an illustration 
 of this trait. 
 
 The wedding-day had been fixed for Feb- 
 ruary 15, 1815, and on the preceding day 
 the bride was making her last preparations 
 for the great event. The guests had been 
 invited : the wedding-cake was in the oven ; 
 
14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and her brother had been dispatched to a 
 neighboring town for the white kid gloves 
 and sash. Presently the bridegroom-elect 
 drove up to the door in a sleigh, and, after 
 the first salutations had passed, announced 
 that he had come to be married on that day ; 
 for the snow was melting so fast that, if 
 they waited twenty-four hours, they could 
 not get back to Caledonia. So they were 
 married the day beforehand. " And," his 
 wife was accustomed to say, "it has been 
 the day beforehand ever since." 
 
 He was a good son and brother ; and, as 
 soon as his own circumstances warranted it, 
 he not only extended pecuniary aid to his 
 father and mother, but interested himself in 
 the education of those members of the family 
 younger than himself, whom he endeavored 
 to incite to a desire for intellectual improve- 
 ment, and which he gave them opportunities 
 to attain. 
 
 He had a sunny temper, which, combined 
 with his confidence in his own power of over- 
 coming obstacles, made him meet the little 
 irritations of life either with a laugh and 
 jest, or at most with a quick, impatient 
 " Pshaw ! " which seemed to be all the out- 
 let his disturbed feelings needed. He had 
 quick inventive powers, and the mechanical 
 
INTRODUCTION. 15 
 
 skill to carry out his ideas : so that he never 
 seemed at fault in any emergency, but al- 
 ways had some way of getting out of every 
 difficulty ; which, combined with his uncom- 
 mon strength, gave those who were depend- 
 ent upon him an unusual feeling of reliance 
 and trust. 
 
 His love for music amounted to a passion ; 
 and his correctness of ear was such that he 
 became an accomplished performer on the 
 clarionet, without knowing how to read a 
 note of music. Any air that he could sing 
 he could play at once upon the piano, with- 
 out striking a false note ; and he whistled 
 finely. 
 
 His love of nature was very noticeable ; 
 and he seemed to possess peculiar power 
 over her, by which he could make her subser- 
 vient to his wishes. Every living thing that 
 his hands touched was sure to flourish ; and 
 it used to be a saying in the family that, if 
 " father were to plant a brick, it would come 
 up a tree." When he was preparing to 
 build his house on Chestnut Street, in Spring- 
 field, he wished to make an artificial pond 
 on his grounds. To do this, it was neces- 
 sary to move some well-grown trees, with 
 trunks as large as a man's leg. It was in 
 the month of August, when, of course, they 
 
16 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 were in full leaf. He had them carried some 
 feet, reset them ; and, in spite of the proph- 
 ecies to the contrary of all his neighbors, 
 they not only lived, but were uninjured by 
 their little midsummer excursion. 
 
 Landscape gardening was his delight, and 
 perhaps he did more to give an impulse to 
 the taste which is now so conspicuous in the 
 well - arranged and beautifully adorned 
 grounds about the dwelling-houses in 
 Springfield than any other one person. He 
 was closely associated with the late W. B. 
 O. Peabody, D. D., in laying out the grounds 
 of the beautiful Springfield Cemetery ; and 
 the arrangement of the water-works was 
 entirely his own. He spent days there, 
 directing the workmen, and often using the 
 spade himself. The pines that stand at the 
 entrance, now grown into large trees, were 
 set with his own hands. 
 
 In the following pages, Mr. Harding tells 
 his own story. The narrative was prepared 
 for his children, and, immediately after his 
 death, was printed by them and privately 
 circulated among his many friends. It was 
 very warmly received, and the notices of it 
 in private letters or in the public prints were 
 numerous and eulogistic. To this have been 
 added extracts from letters which came into 
 
INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 the editor's possession after " My Egotistog- 
 raphy " 1 was printed. 
 
 The story of a life of such perseverance 
 under difficulties, such unflagging industry, 
 such devotion to a worthy aim, and a pic- 
 ture of such simplicity and poise of char- 
 acter, cannot but be helpful to the young 
 who, like him, have their own fortunes to 
 make in the world. If it shall help one 
 such to a faithful use of the talents given 
 him, looking only to the attainment of his 
 best ideal for his reward, this story will not 
 have been written in vain. 
 
 1 This was the name Mr. Harding playfully gave to the 
 autobiographical sketch, which he felt was too slight to 
 pretend to any more assuming title. 
 
A SKETCH OF CHESTER HARD- 
 ING, ARTIST. 
 
 PREFACE TO "MY EGOTISTOGBAPHY." 
 
 I have often been importuned by my children 
 and numerous friends to write a history of my life, 
 which, perhaps, has been more varied and eventful 
 than common. This I have endeavored to do ; and, 
 if the perusal of this imperfect sketch shall give 
 them pleasure, I shall be amply repaid for the labor 
 the work has cost me. 
 
 I trust that some of my young readers may find 
 encouragement in the difficulties I have overcome, 
 and the success which has followed my perseverance. 
 
 Chester Harding. 
 
 Springfield, June, 1865. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of my ancestors I know nothing beyond 
 my grandparents. My paternal grand- 
 father was a substantial farmer in Deerfield, 
 Mass. He lived in a two-story house, which 
 to my youthful imagination was a palace ; 
 filled many offices of profit and trust, in the 
 
20 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 town, lived to a good old age, and was 
 gathered to his fathers with the universal 
 respect of his neighbors. 
 
 On the maternal side, I can go no farther 
 back. My grandfather Smith was a farmer, 
 who lived to a ripe old age, and died much 
 respected. For many years he held the 
 office of deacon in the town of Whately, 
 where he resided. I was born in the ad- 
 joining town of Conway, on the 1st of Sep- 
 tember, 1792. 
 
 My parents were poor ; and, of course, I 
 was brought up like all other poor children 
 of fhat period. My first recollection is of our 
 moving from Conway to Hatfield. I well 
 remember the brook that ran close by the 
 house we lived in there, and the amusement 
 I had in catching the little fishes with a pin- 
 hook. As I grew older, I began to fish with 
 a real hook, and to catch trout. Like most 
 boys of my age, I thought more of " going 
 a-fishing" than of all other indulgences. 
 Indeed it amounted almost to a passion with 
 me. I would go miles on an errand, or do 
 any amount of service, for a penny or 
 two, that I might be able to buy my fish- 
 hooks. 
 
 From the age of eight to ten, I lived in 
 Bernardston, with an aunt. Here again I 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 21 
 
 had a brook that constantly enticed me from 
 my daily duties, which consisted chiefly of 
 the care of a flock of young geese. I played 
 truant nearly every day, and as often was 
 whipped by my aunt. I returned home at 
 the end of two years. We were very poor, 
 and were often in need of the necessaries of 
 life. My father was a good man, of unex- 
 ceptionable habits ; but he was not thrifty, 
 and did little towards the support of the 
 family. He had a great inventive genius, 
 and turned all his powers towards the dis- 
 covery of perpetual motion. At the time of 
 his death his attic was full of machines, the 
 making of which had occupied a large part 
 of his life. But this brought no bread and 
 butter to his hungry children. 
 
 One hard winter he went to Northfield, 
 Mass., to get work, where my mother sup- 
 posed he was earning something for the 
 maintenance of the family. While there, 
 he had the small-pox ; and all the work he 
 did was to make the body of a very large 
 bass-viol. Imagine the disappointment of 
 his family when they found that this monster 
 skeleton was all he had brought home to 
 them! 
 
 My mother was a noble woman. In all 
 the trials of poverty, she managed to keep 
 
22 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 her children decently dressed, that they 
 might go to meeting on Sunday, and make 
 a respectable appearance among other boys. 
 It is true our more prosperous cousins rather 
 turned up their noses at us now and then, 
 much to our mortification. 
 
 At the age of twelve, I was hired out at 
 six dollars a month to a Mr. Graves, in 
 Hatfield. He was a good and religious man. 
 I lived with him two years. I went to school 
 in the winter, and learned enough to read 
 the Bible. I partook largely of the reli- 
 gious sentiment that pervaded the family. I 
 said my prayers night and morning, and was 
 deemed a model boy. At the age of four- 
 teen, my father moved to the western part 
 of New York State, into Madison County, 
 then an unbroken wilderness. Now began 
 my hard work and harder fare. Our first 
 business was to build a log-house, and to 
 clear a patch of ground, and fit it for seed. 
 I had two brothers older than myself, the 
 oldest of whom was a chair-maker by trade, 
 and made common flag-bottomed chairs for 
 the neighbors. By this means we could get 
 an occasional piece of pork, some flour and 
 potatoes; whilst my father and his other 
 boys wielded the axe, — that great civilizer. 
 
 We finished the house, and in the spring 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 23 
 
 we had a few acres felled and ready for 
 burning. We planted corn and potatoes 
 amongst the blackened stumps ; fortunately, 
 the crop needed no labor beyond that of 
 planting. Before the season was far spent, 
 we were all down with chills and fever. We 
 managed somehow to live through that year, 
 which was the hardest we had ever seen. I 
 grew strong, and was distinguished for my 
 skill in using the axe. I could lift a larger 
 log than any one else, and, in short, at eigh- 
 teen was considered a prodigy of strength. 
 Our means for intellectual development were 
 very scant. Our parents would sometimes 
 read the Bible to us, the only book we had 
 in the house ; and occasionally we were 
 blessed with a visit from some itinerant 
 preacher, when the whole forest settlement 
 would meet in some large building, either 
 the school-house or a barn, and listen to his 
 divine teachings. At nineteen I changed 
 my mode of life. I began to think there 
 might be an easier way of getting a living 
 than by cutting down and clearing up the 
 heavily timbered forest, and worked one 
 winter with my brother at turning stuff for 
 chairs. 
 
 About this time war was declared be- 
 tween the United States and Great Britain. 
 
24 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 A military spirit was aroused throughout 
 the Whole of western New York, and I im- 
 bibed as much of it as any one. I had be- 
 come a distinguished drummer, and had 
 drummed for pay, until I was obliged to do 
 military duty. My brother, next younger 
 than myself, was one of the first to enlist in 
 the service for one year. The troops were 
 soon called to active service at Oswego. 
 After six months he was anxious to return 
 home. I offered myself, and was accepted 
 as a substitute. As he was a drummer, I 
 could easily fill his place. 
 
 Nothing of importance broke in upon the 
 monotony of camp-life until mid-winter, 
 when we were ordered to prepare three days' 
 provisions, and to march next morning for 
 Sacket's Harbor. The snow was very deep, 
 and the weather cold ; yet the days of our 
 march were holidays, when compared to 
 camp-life. We committed many depreda- 
 tions on our way, such as stealing chickens, 
 or, on rare occasions, a pig. I was on the 
 rear section of the column one day, and with 
 another soldier had fallen so far behind that 
 we had lost sight of the troops. Being un- 
 certain which of two roads to take, we ap- 
 plied at a house which was near, for direc- 
 tions. " Oh !• " said the woman, " you have 
 only to follow the feathers." 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 25 
 
 Sacket's Harbor was threatened with an 
 attack by the British. They had a consid- 
 erable force in Canada, nearly opposite ; and 
 the lake at that point was completely frozen 
 over. We were constantly drilled, and kept 
 in readiness for an attack. We had several 
 alarms, and were often drummed out at mid- 
 night to face the foe ; but he was only found 
 in the imagination of the frightened senti- 
 nel. 
 
 Sickness now began to thin our ranks. 
 Every hour in the day some poor fellow 
 would be followed to Briarfield ; and the 
 tune, "Away goes the merryman home to 
 his grave," played on returning from the 
 burial, was too often heard to leave the 
 listeners indifferent to its notes. My turn 
 came at last, and I was taken down with the 
 prevailing disease, dysentery; but my lieu- 
 tenant took me to his own quarters, instead 
 of sending me to the hospital. He was my 
 neighbor, and in this instance proved him- 
 self to be one in the Scripture sense. Had I 
 gone to the hospital I should probably have 
 shared the fate of nearly all who went there, 
 and have been carried to Briarfield. As 
 soon as I recovered sufficient strength to 
 get home, I was discharged, as my time of 
 service was nearly up. 
 
26 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 I suffered intensely on my way home. I 
 was thinly clad, without overcoat or gloves. 
 I started from camp with a lad who was 
 taking back a horse that an officer had rid- 
 den to Sachet's Harbor: he was warmly 
 clothed and of a very robust make. We 
 traveled on, until I began to feel a good 
 deal fatigued. We at last came to a house 
 where we had been told we could find ac- 
 commodation. We arrived there just at 
 dusk, and, to our dismay, were told by 
 the master of the house, that he could not 
 keep us, and that he had nothing on hand 
 for either man or beast to eat. It was six 
 miles to the next house and the road lay on 
 the beach of the lake, exposed to the pier- 
 cing winds which blew over it. We started 
 off, I on foot as before, while the boy was 
 mounted. I had to run to keep warm. At 
 length we came in sight of a light ; but what 
 was our dismay to find an open river be- 
 tween us and it ! I shouted to the utmost 
 capacity of my lungs, but could get no re- 
 sponse. What was to be done ? Nothing, 
 but to return to the shelter we had left an 
 hour and a half before. I started back at 
 the same speed I came; but, before we 
 had gone half the distance, my strength 
 gave out, leaving me no other alternative 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 27 
 
 but to mount the horse with the boy. I 
 soon found myself getting very cold, and a 
 strong desire to go to sleep came over me. 
 I looked at the thick clumps of evergreen 
 that stood by our path, and thought seriously 
 of lying down under one of them to wait 
 until daylight. The boy was crying, and 
 begged me to keep on, saying, " If you lie 
 down there, you will freeze to death," which 
 would indeed have been inevitable. I yielded 
 to his entreaties, and we finally reached the 
 house we had left three hours before. The 
 boy was not much frozen, but I was badly 
 bitten. My face, hands, and thighs were 
 stiff. After a good deal of rapping and 
 hallooing, the door was opened. The man 
 of the house had been used to such scenes, 
 and knew well what to do. He put my feet 
 into cold water, at the same time making 
 applications to my face, ears, and legs. 
 Mortal never suffered more acute pain than 
 I did through that sleepless night. I ex- 
 perienced the truth of our host's statement 
 with regard to provisions. The next day at 
 noon, we started again on our perilous jour- 
 ney, having been assured that we were mis- 
 taken about the river being open. Travel- 
 ing more leisurely than we had done the 
 previous night, we reached the river again ; 
 
28 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 and, owing to the intense cold, it was cov- 
 ered with a thin coat of ice, but not thick 
 enough to bear a man in an upright posi- 
 tion. I got a long pole, and, by putting 
 , myself in a swimming posture, reached the 
 opposite shore in safety, though it was 
 frightful to feel the ice, not much thicker 
 than a pane of window-glass, bending under 
 me. At the house I was told that the cross- 
 ing was half a mile back. I recrossed the 
 river; and, retracing our steps a mile, we 
 found a blind road leading over the bluff, 
 which soon took us in safety to a comfort- 
 able house, where we found enough to eat 
 for ourselves and our horse. The next day I 
 started for my home, where my sufferings 
 were soon forgotten. I speedily recovered, 
 and went to work with my brother. We 
 had a contract for drum-making from the 
 United States, which gave us employment 
 all the following summer. 
 
 Early in the fall of this year I embarked 
 in a new business. A mechanic had in- 
 vented and patented a spinning-head, which 
 was thought to be a great improvement upon 
 the old plan. I accepted an offer he made 
 me to sell the patent in the State of Con- 
 necticut. The only thing in the way of my 
 making a fortune was the want of capital. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 29 
 
 However, " Where there 's a will, there 's a 
 way." I soon contrived to get a horse and 
 wagon, and five or six dollars in money, be- 
 sides a quantity of essences, such as pepper- 
 mint, tansy, wintergreen, etc. With this 
 fit-out I launched forth into the wide world 
 in pursuit of fortune. There is no period 
 in the history of a young man which awak- 
 ens so many of the finer feelings of his na- 
 ture as that when he leaves his home, and 
 for the first time assumes the position and 
 responsibility of an independent man. All 
 the joyful recollections of that home he is 
 about to leave, no matter how humble it is, 
 rush with overwhelming force upon his sus- 
 ceptible heart. I started with all the firm- 
 ness and resolution I could call to my aid ; 
 yet if my mother could have looked into my 
 eyes, she would have seen them filled with 
 big tears. I jumped into my wagon, whipped 
 up my horse, and was soon out of sight of 
 what, at that moment, seemed all the world 
 to me. 
 
 I managed, in view of my small stock of 
 money, to get along without drawing largely 
 upon it. I often bartered my essences for 
 a night's entertainment, and was going on 
 swimmingly, until I came to a small town 
 on the banks of the Mohawk. I stopped to 
 
30 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 bait my horse ; and, as I was about to start, 
 a man with a bundle of clothing in his hand 
 wanted to get a ride as far as the next town, 
 for which he would give me twenty -five 
 cents. I, of course, was glad to avail my- 
 self of his offer. We had traveled perhaps 
 a mile, when we overtook two men by the 
 roadside, in violent dispute about a pack 
 of cards. One was very drunk. My new 
 friend proposed that we should stop and 
 inquire into the rights of the case : so I 
 pulled up. The drunken man was contend- 
 ing that he had won a quarter of a dollar of 
 the other ; whereupon he proceeded to show 
 us how it was done. He had bet that the 
 top card was the jack of clubs, and was will- 
 ing to bet again that the top card was the 
 jack of clubs ; at the same time showing, as 
 if by accident, that it was on the bottom of 
 the pack. My friend bet him a quarter 
 that it was not on the top, and won. He 
 fixed his cards again very clumsily, as he 
 was very drunk. I bet, and won. I bet a 
 half next time ; so did my friend : we lost. 
 We now accused him of having two jacks in 
 the pack, and my friend examined the pack, 
 but found only one ; and that he managed 
 to drop into the bottom of the wagon, and 
 covered it with his foot. The cards were 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 31 
 
 again shuffled. We had 110 scruples about 
 betting on a certainty, as it was to get our 
 money back, so we each bet a dollar, but 
 lost. In some mysterious manner the card 
 had been taken from under the foot. There 
 was nothing to be done but to bear this loss 
 as well as I could ; and we started on, very 
 sad. My companion had lost every cent he 
 had in the world. He had a loaded whip, 
 worth two or three dollars, that he urged 
 me to buy. In pity for the poor fellow I 
 gave him his price, when he suddenly rec- 
 ollected that he had left something at the 
 .tavern, and must go back. He soon over- 
 took the two worthies we had just left, and 
 all three joined in a hearty laugh. My eyes 
 were instantly opened. I clenched my new 
 whip, determined to go back and thrash the 
 scoundrels ; but as they were three to one, 
 £ finally thought better of it. I firmly be- 
 Heve that, if I had gone back, I should have 
 killed one of them at least with my loaded 
 whip. I traveled on, not much in love with 
 myself. I bore the loss of the money better 
 than I did the way in which it was lost. 
 This lesson has never been forgotten. I 
 finally reached Connecticut, the field of my 
 future operations. I returned with more 
 money than I started with, and had a sur- 
 
32 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 plus of fifty or sixty wooden clocks and sev- 
 eral watches, which I had taken for the pat- 
 ent in different parts of the State. 
 
 Near the close of the war, my brother 
 (younger than myself) and I went into the 
 cabinet and chair manufactory in Cale- 
 donia, a small town in Livingstone County, 
 New York. 
 
 At this juncture I happened to meet with 
 Caroline Woodruff, a lovely girl of twenty, 
 with handsome, dark eyes, fine brunette 
 complexion, and of an amiable disposition. 
 I fell in love with her at first sight. I can 
 remember the dress she wore at our first 
 meeting as well as I do those beautiful eyes. 
 It was a dark crimson, woolen dress, with 
 a neat little frill about the neck. I saw but 
 little of her, for the family soon moved to 
 a distance, forty or fifty miles. Though she 
 was absent, however, her image was im- 
 planted too deeply in my heart to be for- 
 gotten. It haunted me day and night. At 
 length I took the resolution to go to see 
 her ; which was at once carried out. I set 
 out on foot, found her, and proposed, and 
 was bid to wait a while for my answer. I 
 went again, in the same way, and this time 
 had the happiness to be accepted ; and, three 
 weeks after, she became my wife, and ac- 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 33 
 
 companied me to my home. We had hardly 
 reached it before I was sued for a small 
 debt, which I could not meet : in short, busi- 
 ness was not very flourishing, and we were 
 much embarrassed. 
 
 To relieve myself I went into an entirely 
 new business, — that of tavern - keeping. 
 Here I paid off some old debts by making 
 new ones. Matters, however, did not im- 
 prove : on the contrary, creditors grew more 
 clamorous and threatening. Nothing could 
 strike me with more horror than the thought 
 of being shut up in Batavia jail. At that 
 time the barbarous practice of imprison- 
 ment for debt was in full force. My mind 
 was made up. On Saturday night I took 
 leave of my wife and child, and left for 
 the headwaters of the Alleghany River. As 
 soon as the river opened I took passage on 
 a raft, and worked my way down to Pitts- 
 burgh. Here I was at a loss what to do. 
 Times were hard ; and, besides, I was not a 
 good enough mechanic to get employment 
 at the only trade I knew anything of. I 
 finally got a job at house-painting ; but I 
 felt lonely and unhappy. As soon as I had 
 saved a few dollars I started for my wife 
 and child. I walked over mountains and 
 through wild forests, with no guide but the 
 
34 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 blazed trees. Bears, wolves, deer, and tur- 
 keys I met so often that I would hardly 
 turn around to look at them. At last I 
 reached the settlement within a few miles of 
 Caledonia. Here I halted till night, think- 
 ing it safer to travel by moonlight than in 
 broad day. As it grew dark I started, 
 tired and foot-sore. I saw a horse grazing 
 in the road, and the thought struck me that 
 he could ease my weary limbs. I succeeded 
 in catching and mounting him ; and, by 
 means of my staff or walking-stick, I steered 
 him to the street of Caledonia. I then 
 turned him on his way home, and bade him 
 good-night. I remained in close conceal- 
 ment three or four days, and, when all was 
 ready, started again for the headwaters of 
 the Alleghany, but not alone : this time my 
 wife and child were with me. We expe- 
 rienced many hardships on our way, but 
 nothing of particular interest occurred. At 
 Oleans Point we embarked upon a raft, 
 with a comfortable shanty on board, and in 
 a week floated down the river to Pittsburgh. 
 Before I had left Pittsburgh, I had rented a 
 ten-footer, with two rooms in it ; so we went 
 directly there. All our availables consisted 
 of one bed, and a chest of clothing, and 
 some cooking utensils, so that we had little 
 labor in getting settled down. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 35 
 
 But now all my money was gone, and how 
 to get more was the question. I could find 
 no work as a house-painter, and what to do 
 I did not know. I would walk about the 
 town, and return to find my wife in tears, — 
 though she always had a smile for me. I 
 went into the market the next morning, 
 though for what purpose I could hardly 
 tell, for I had not one cent of money. At 
 last I ventured to ask the price of a beef- 
 steak. I had the impudence to say to the 
 man that I should like that piece very 
 much, but that I had no change with me. 
 To my great surprise he said I could take 
 it, and pay for it the next time I came. As 
 I had made the acquaintance of Mr. Sands, 
 a barber who occupied the twin part of the 
 house I was in, I went to his wife, and asked 
 her to loan me half a loaf of bread, which 
 she did cheerfully. If we went hungry that 
 day it was not because we had not enough to 
 eat, and that, too, with an honest appetite. 
 
 There was an opening just now for a 
 sign painter. I had talked with Neighbor 
 Sands upon the subject of my becoming one. 
 He approved the plan, and was the means 
 of my getting an order. A Mr. W. H. 
 Wetherell wanted a sign painted in gold 
 letters on both sides, so as to project it into 
 
36 CHESTER HABDING. 
 
 the street. I agreed to do it; but where 
 was the stock of gold paint and board to 
 come from? I went into Neighbor Sands' 
 half a dozen times for the purpose of ask- 
 ing him to lend me the money to procure 
 the materials, and as often my heart failed 
 me. At last I made a grand effort, and 
 said, " Neighbor Sands, I wish you would 
 lend me twenty dollars for a few days, as 
 I have no money by me that is current." 
 " Certainly, with pleasure." I could hardly 
 believe it real. I took the money, and hur- 
 ried into my room, and threw it into my 
 wife's lap. She was frightened, fearing I had 
 obtained it by some unlawful means. The 
 first use I made of it was to go to the mar- 
 ket, to pay the credulous butcher; and to 
 buy some vegetables, tea, sugar, and some 
 other little luxuries. I got my sign-board 
 made, bought my gold leaf, paints, etc. ; 
 went to a printer, and got some very large 
 impressions of the alphabet ; and, having in 
 my chair-making experience learned the art 
 of gilding, I soon had my sign finished, and 
 paid back my neighbor his money. He 
 never knew that I was not flush of money ; 
 but his kindness I never forgot. I was at 
 once established as a sign painter, and fol- 
 lowed that trade for a year. 
 
CHAPTER IL 
 
 About this time I fell in with a portrait 
 painter by the name of Nelson, — one of the 
 primitive sort. He was a sign, ornamental, 
 and portrait painter. He had for his sign 
 a copy of the " Infant Artists " of Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds, with this inscription, " Sign, Or- 
 namental, and Portrait Painting executed 
 on the shortest notice, with neatness and 
 dispatch." It was in his sanctum that I 
 first conceived the idea of painting heads. 
 I saw his portraits, and was enamored at 
 once. I got him to paint me and my wife, 
 and thought the pictures perfection. He 
 would not let me see him paint, nor would 
 he give me the least idea how the thing was 
 done. I took the pictures home, and pon- 
 dered on them, and wondered how it was 
 possible for a man to produce such wonders 
 of art. At length my admiration began to 
 yield to an ambition to do the same thing. 
 I thought of it by day, and dreamed of it 
 by night, until I was stimulated to make an 
 attempt at painting myself. I got a board ; 
 
38 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 and, with such colors as I had for use in my 
 trade, I began a portrait of my wife. I 
 made a thing that looked like her. The 
 moment I saw the likeness I became fran- 
 tic with delight : it was like the discovery of 
 a new sense ; I could think of nothing else. 
 From that time sign painting became odious, 
 and was much neglected. 
 
 I next painted a razeed portrait of an 
 Englishman who was a journeyman baker, 
 for which I received five dollars. He sent 
 it to his mother in London. I also painted 
 portraits of the man and his wife with whom 
 I boarded, and for which I received, on ac- 
 count, twelve dollars each. This was in the 
 winter season : the river was closed, and 
 there was but little to be done in sign paint- 
 ing. 
 
 I shall always remember the friendship 
 of an Irish apothecary, who, at this period 
 of my history, encouraged me in my at- 
 tempts at portrait painting, and allowed me 
 to buy any material I needed, on credit, 
 from his paint and drug store. I had been 
 painting a second picture of my wife, and 
 asked Nelson the painter to come and see it. 
 He declared it to be no more like my wife 
 than like him, and said further that it was 
 utter nonsense for me to try to paint por- 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 39 
 
 traits at my time of life: he had been ten 
 years in learning the trade. To receive such 
 a lecture, and such utter condemnation of- 
 my work, when I expected encouragement 
 and approval, was truly disheartening. He 
 left me ; and I was still sitting before the 
 pieture, in great dejection, when my friend 
 the doctor came in. He instantly exclaimed, 
 with much apparent delight, " That 's good ; 
 first-rate, a capital likeness," etc. I then 
 repeated what Nelson had just said. He 
 replied that it was sheer envy ; that he never 
 painted half so good a head, and never 
 would. The tide of hope began to flow 
 again, and I grew more and more fond of 
 head painting. I now regarded sign paint- 
 ing merely as a necessity, while my whole 
 soul was wrapped up in my new love, and I 
 neglected my trade so much that I was kept 
 pretty short of money. I resorted to every 
 means to eke out a living. I sometimes 
 played the clarionet for a tight-rope dancer, 
 and on market-days would play at the win- 
 dow of the museum to attract the crowd to 
 the exhibition. For each of these perform- 
 ances I would get a dollar. 
 
 I was strictly temperate in my habits, and 
 seldom spent a sixpence for anything that 
 we did not actually need ; but I remember 
 
40 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 one occasion when my love for music and 
 excitement got the better of my prudence. 
 I had gone out one evening to borrow a. 
 dollar to go to market with the next morn- 
 ing, when, as I was sauntering about, I heard 
 music, which attracted me to the spot. It 
 was the performance of the orchestra of the 
 theatre. It was a temporary building, loosely 
 boarded ; and as I looked through the cracks 
 of the covering, I saw such a sight as I had 
 never dreamed of. I went instantly to the 
 door, got a ticket, and crowded my way in. 
 By degrees I managed to get into a box 
 which was full. I stood for the first hour in 
 perfect amazement at the lords and ladies, 
 and was overwhelmed by the brilliant lights 
 and heavenly music. At the end of one of 
 the acts one of the gentlemen left his seat, 
 and went out ; and I took it. He came 
 back and claimed his seat. I was not in- 
 clined to admit his claim. I had paid my 
 dollar, and told him I thought I had as good 
 a right to a seat as he had ; and that he 
 could as well stand an hour as I. He pre- 
 pared to eject me by force ; but, as I un- 
 folded my dimensions, he relinquished his 
 purpose, and bore the loss of his seat as well 
 as he could. p I did not leave the theatre 
 until the last lamp was extinguished. The 
 
CHESTER BAEDING. 41 
 
 play which had so enchanted me was Scott's 
 " Lady of the Lake." This was my first 
 acquaintance with the stage. I do not re- 
 member how we fared the next day in 
 our marketing, but I presume I borrowed 
 another dollar in the morning. 
 
 Up to this time I had never read any 
 book but the Bible, and could only read that 
 with difficulty. My wife, who had received 
 a comparatively good education, and had 
 once taught school, borrowed of one of the 
 neighbors " The Children of the Abbey," a 
 popular novel of that day. I was rather 
 opposed to her reading it, as I had been 
 taught to believe by my mother that cards 
 and novels were the chief instruments of the 
 Devil in seducing mortals from the paths of 
 virtue. However, her desire to read it was 
 too strong to be overcome by any objections 
 I could raise, so I had to yield ; but I in- 
 sisted upon her reading it aloud. One dark 
 and rainy day she commenced the reading. 
 She read on till bedtime, and then proposed 
 to leave the rest of the story until the next 
 day ; but I was altogether too eager to hear 
 how the next chapter ended to consent to 
 that. She was persuaded to read the next 
 chapter, and the next, and the next. In 
 short, I kept her reading all night, and 
 
42 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 gave her no rest until the novel was finished. 
 The first novel I ever read myself was " Eob 
 Roy." I could only read it understandingly 
 by reading it aloud, and to this day I often 
 find myself whispering the words in the daily 
 newspaper. 
 
 My brother Horace, the chair-maker, was 
 established in Paris, Ky. He wrote to me 
 that he was painting portraits, and that there 
 was a painter in Lexington who was receiy* 
 ing fifty dollars a head. This price seemed 
 fabulous to me ; but I began to think seri- 
 ously of trying my. fortune in Kentucky. > I 
 soon settled upon the idea, and^wcteo: Sfr*~ 
 once. f 
 
 Winding up my affairs in Pittsburgh, I 
 found that I had just money enough to take 
 me down the river. I knew a barber, by 
 the name of Jarvis, who was going to Lex- 
 ington, and I proposed to join him in the 
 purchase of a large skiff. He agreed to it ; 
 and we fitted it up with a sort of awning or 
 tent, and embarked, with our wives and 
 children. Sometimes we rowed our craft ; 
 but oftener we let her float as she pleased, 
 while we gave ourselves up to music. He, 
 as well as I, played the clarionet ; and we 
 had much enjoyment on our voyage. We 
 arrived in Paris with funds rather low, but, 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 43 
 
 as my brother was well known there, I found 
 no difficulty on that score. 1 
 
 Here I began my career as a professional 
 artist. I took a room, and painted the por- 
 trait of a very popular young man, and 
 made a decided hit. In six months from 
 that time, I had painted nearly one hun- 
 dred portraits, at twenty-five dollars a head. 
 The first twenty-five I took rather disturbed 
 the equanimity of my conscience. It did not 
 seem to me that the portrait was intrinsi- 
 cally worth that money ; now, I know it was 
 not. 
 
 I have stated previously that I was 
 strictly temperate. This was not from prin- 
 ciple, but simply because I did not want 
 any stimulant. During my stay in Paris, 
 I was constantly thrown into the society of 
 those who did drink. It was the almost 
 universal custom to take a julep before 
 
 1 Mrs. Harding used to describe to her children how, 
 •when night fell, the flatboat was moored to the shore, 
 while the two families would find shelter in some Indian 
 wigwam, sleeping on the floor with their feet towards the 
 fire which was burning in the middle of the circle thus 
 formed. The smoke found its way out of an opening 
 left in the roof. The provisions of the party became 
 nearly exhausted before they reached civilization, and 
 she shared her last loaf of bread with her fellow-travelers, 
 not knowing where the next mouthful was to come from 
 for herself or child. 
 
44 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 breakfast; and by degrees I fell into the 
 habit of taking my julep, and sometimes 
 two. I soon guessed where this would end, 
 for I found that I felt uncomfortable unless 
 I had my morning dram. I stopped short at 
 once, and for five years never tasted a drop 
 of ardent spirits. I was sometimes obliged 
 to sip a glass of wine at the dinner-table. 
 
 Here it was that I mingled for the first 
 time with the tip-top of society. I went at 
 once, on my arrival in the town, to the first- 
 class hotel. I found unspeakable embarrass- 
 ment at the table, with so many fine young 
 gentlemen, all so elegantly dressed, with ruf- 
 fled shirts, rings on their white and delicate 
 fingers, and diamond pins in their bosoms. 
 They, no doubt, thought me very clownish, 
 as I undoubtedly was. I found little respect 
 paid me by them, until I began to attract 
 the attention of their masters. I soon be- 
 came a sort of lion, and grew very popular 
 among these clerks, especially after I was so 
 far advanced in the ways of society as to 
 take my morning juleps. 
 
 Up to this time I had thought little of the 
 profession, so far as its honors were con- 
 cerned. Indeed, it had never occurred to 
 me that it was more honorable or profitable 
 than sign painting. I now began to enter- 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 45 
 
 tain more elevated ideas of the art, and to 
 desire some means of improvement. Finding 
 myself in fund3 sufficient to visit Phila- 
 delphia, I did so, and spent two months in 
 that city, devoting my time entirely to draw- 
 ing in the Academy, and studying the best 
 pictures, practicing at the same time with 
 the brush. I would sometimes feel a good 
 deal discouraged as I looked at the works of 
 older artists. I saw the labor it would cost 
 me to emulate them, working, as I should, 
 under great disadvantages. Then again, 
 when I had painted a picture successfully, 
 my spirits would rise, and I would resolve 
 that I could and would overcome every ob- 
 stacle. One good effect of my visit to Phila- 
 delphia was to open my eyes to the merits 
 of the works of other artists, though it took 
 away much of my self-satisfaction. My own 
 pictures did not look as well to my own 
 eye as they did before I left Paris. I 
 had thought then that my pictures were far 
 ahead of Mr. Jewitt's, the painter my brother 
 had written me about, who received such 
 unheard-of prices, and who really was a 
 good artist. My estimation of them was 
 very different now: I found they were so 
 superior to mine that their excellence had 
 been beyond my capacity of appreciation. 
 
46 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 When I returned to Kentucky, I found 
 that the scarcity of money, from which the 
 State was then suffering, seriously affected 
 my business ; and after struggling on for a 
 few months, without bettering my finances, 
 I concluded to try a new field. I first tried 
 my fortune in Cincinnati ; but after waiting 
 a week or two in vain for orders, I gave up 
 all hope of succeeding there, and determined 
 to push on to St. Louis. But how to get 
 there was a puzzling question. I had used 
 up all my money ; but, in my palmy days 
 in Paris, I had bought a dozen silver spoons, 
 and a gold watch and chain for my wife., 
 There was no way left for me now jmt to 
 dispose of these superfluities. - I went with 
 them to a broker, and pawned themJJlor 
 money enough to take me and my fan/fily to 
 Missouri. I had letters of introduction to 
 St. Louis, and set off at once for/that far-off 
 city. We went as far as Louisville on a 
 flatboat, and there found a Isfeamboat ready 
 to take passengers ; and in ten days we were 
 safely landed in St. Louis. I presented one 
 of my letters to Governor Clarke, who was 
 then Governor of the Territory, Indian 
 Agent, etc., and he kindly helped me about 
 getting a suitable room for a studio, and 
 then offered himself as a sitter. This was 
 
CHESTER HAEDING. 47 
 
 an auspicious and cheering beginning. I 
 was decidedly happy in my likeness of him, 
 and, long before I had finished his head, I 
 had others engaged ; and for fifteen months 
 I was kept constantly at work. 
 
 In June of this year I made a trip of one 
 hundred miles for the purpose of painting 
 the portrait of old Colonel Daniel Boone. I 
 had much trouble in finding him. He was 
 living, some miles from the main road, in 
 one of the cabins of an old block -house 
 which was built for the protection of the 
 settlers against the incursions of the In- 
 dians. I found that the nearer I got to his 
 dwelling, the less was known of him. When 
 within two miles of his house, I asked a man 
 to tell me where Colonel Boone lived. He 
 said he did not know any such man. " Why, 
 yes, you do," said his wife. " It is that 
 white-headed old man who lives on the bot- 
 torn, near the river." A good illustration 
 of the proverb, that a prophet is not without 
 honor save in his own country. 
 
 I found the object of my search engaged 
 in cooking his dinner. He was lying in his 
 bunk, near the fire, and had a long strip of 
 venison wound around his ramrod, and was 
 busy turning it before a brisk blaze, and 
 using salt and pepper to season his meat. I 
 
48 CHESTER HABBING. 
 
 at once told him the object of my visit. I 
 found that he hardly knew what I meant. 
 I explained the matter to him, and he agreed 
 to sit. He was ninety years old, and rather 
 infirm ; his memory of passing events was 
 much impaired, yet he would amuse me 
 every day by his anecdotes of his earlier 
 life. I asked him one day, just after his 
 description of one of his long hunts, if he 
 never got lost, having no compass. " No," 
 said he, " I can't say as ever I was lost, but 
 I was bevoildered once for three days." 
 
 He was much astonished at seeing the 
 likeness. He had a very large progeny ; 
 one granddaughter had eighteen children, 
 all at home near the old man's cabin : they 
 were even more astonished at the picture 
 than the old man himself. 
 
 I will mention in this connection the fact 
 of my painting one of the Osage chiefs. 
 There was a deputation from this tribe on 
 a visit to Governor Clarke. I asked some of 
 them to go to my room, and there showed 
 them the portrait of Governor Clarke, at the 
 sight of which they gave several significant 
 grunts. They were not satisfied with merely 
 looking, but went close to the picture, rubbed 
 their fingers across the face, looked behind 
 it, and showed great wonder. The old chief 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 49 
 
 was a fine-looking man, of great dignity of 
 manner. I asked him to sit for his portrait. 
 He did so ; and, after giving evident signs 
 of pleasure at seeing himself reproduced on 
 canvas, he said that I was a god (a great 
 spirit), and if I would go home with him, I 
 should be a brave, and have two wives. 
 
 The deputation went to Washington, 
 where they stayed long enough to lose much, 
 I may say nearly all, of that which ennobles 
 the Indian character. I saw them on their 
 return to St. Louis. They wore, instead of 
 their own graceful blankets, a military dress 
 with tawdry cotton epaulettes and cotton 
 lace ; and withal had fallen into the habit of 
 getting beastly drunk. All the interest I 
 had felt in them was gone. 
 
 The city became very sickly, and the 
 weather was intensely hot. I decided to 
 leave the city for a month or two. I hired 
 a pair of horses and a close carriage and 
 driver, and started for the town of Franklin, 
 about two hundred miles from St. Louis, 
 situated on the Missouri River. The day 
 after we started I was taken violently ill of 
 dysentery, and was reduced in one week to 
 a skeleton. 
 
 We met with an adventure on our way, 
 which I relate for the amusement of the 
 
50 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 younger portion of my readers. We stopped 
 one day about noon to bait our horses. 
 While waiting at the tavern, I saw the fresh 
 skin of some wild animal, and inquired what 
 it was. I was told that it was the skin of a 
 panther that had been shot the night before, 
 and that her mate was prowling about the 
 prairie. The two had done great damage 
 to the young cattle and hogs, and a deadly 
 war had been waged against them. The 
 whole settlement had turned out on the 
 hunt, and at last had suceeded in killing 
 one. We started to cross the prairie called 
 the Twenty-Mile Prairie, and traveled on 
 through intense heat and swarms of flies 
 until near night, and were within a mile of 
 the wooded border, when the driver sud- 
 denly stopped, and called out, " My God ! 
 massa, what dat dar ? " I lifted the window 
 of the coach, and there stood an enormous 
 panther, directly in our path, and in a half- 
 crouching posture. The negro swung his 
 hat, and yelled as if he were frightened out 
 of his senses ; and there was good cause for 
 his fear, for the animal was not more than 
 twenty feet from us. The monster gave 
 one or two leaps into the grass, and there 
 stood and eyed us very closely as we passed. 
 If the driver was frightened, those within 
 
CHESTER HABDING. 51 
 
 the carriage were no less so. We were none 
 of us sorry to part company with the crea- 
 ture. We soon reached the tavern, and, as 
 the landlord was beginning to take the har- 
 ness from the horses, I told him the adven- 
 ture. He instantly dropped the harness; 
 and calling all the men, boys, and dogs that 
 were near, they all started at their utmost 
 speed. They soon found the beast, and fol- 
 lowed him nearly all night ; but he would 
 not " tree." 
 
 We had a little adventure at this tavern, 
 which might have shocked some of the re- 
 fined boarders at the Astor House. I had 
 observed a white counterpane spread upon 
 the grass, covered over with fruit for the 
 purpose of drying. On sitting down at the 
 tea-table, the same article appeared as a 
 table-cloth ; and, on going to bed, we found 
 it put to its legitimate use. 
 
 We arrived at last at the town of Frank- 
 lin, which was the county seat. Where the 
 bed of the Missouri River now lies, the 
 court-house then stood. Such have been the 
 ravages of this unreliable stream that not a 
 house in the then flourishing town is now 
 standing. It was here that I obtained a per- 
 fect knowledge of the English language : at 
 least, I was assured by an itinerant professor 
 
52 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 that he could make me a thorough gram- 
 marian in twelve lessons. As I took the re- 
 quired number, if I am not all that he prom- 
 ised me, it must be his fault, and not mine. 
 
 While in St. Louis, I bought a lot of land, 
 for which I painted five hundred dollars' 
 worth in pictures at their then current value. 
 On leaving St. Louis, I left the lot in charge 
 of an agent, with funds for the accruing 
 taxes. I never thought of the lot or the 
 agent for five years, when I met a gentle- 
 man in Washington who was well acquainted 
 with real estate in St. Louis. I asked him 
 if he knew anything about my lot : he said 
 it had, he thought, been sold for taxes. 
 This proved to be true ; but, as the limit of 
 redemption had not expired, I empowered 
 this gentleman to redeem it, and to sell it 
 at once, if he could get a fair price for it, 
 to relieve myself from the trouble of look- 
 ing after it. He sold it for seven hundred 
 dollars. That same lot is now worth forty 
 thousand. By such chances fortunes are 
 made or missed ! 
 
 My ambition in my profession now began 
 to take a higher flight, and I determined to 
 go to Europe. I had accumulated over a 
 thousand dollars in cash, and had bought 
 a carriage and pair of horses. With these 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 53 
 
 I started with my family for western New 
 York, where my parents were still living, by 
 whom we were warmly welcomed. 
 
 My success in painting, and especially the 
 amount of money I had saved, was the won- 
 der of the whole neighborhood. My grand- 
 father Smith, at an advanced age, had fol- 
 lowed his children to the West, and was 
 living in the same place with my father. 
 He had, as yet, said nothing congratulatory 
 upon my success ; but one day he began, 
 " Chester, I want to speak to you about 
 your present mode of life. I think it is 
 very little better than swindling to charge 
 forty dollars for one of those effigies. Now 
 I want you to give up this course of living, 
 and settle down on a farm, and become a 
 respectable man." As I did not exactly 
 coincide in his views, I did not become the 
 " respectable man " according to his no- 
 tions. 
 
 My failure in Caledonia for four or five 
 hundred dollars had caused as much sur- 
 prise and excitement as would the failure of 
 any of our first merchants in Boston. The 
 surprise was, at least, as great to my credit- 
 ors to find themselves paid off in full. 
 
 My plan now was to leave my wife and 
 children with my father and mother, and go 
 
54 GBESTEB HABDING. 
 
 to Europe. This plan was so iar matured 
 and carried out that I had my trunk packed, 
 and was to leave on the following morning. 1 
 Just before starting, my mother asked me 
 to sit down by her, as she wished to have a 
 serious talk with me. She began, "You 
 are now going to Europe ; and how soon — 
 if ever — you return no one can tell. You 
 are leaving your wife and children with very 
 little to live upon ; certainly, not enough to 
 support them in the way they have lived. 
 To come to the point, I want you to give up 
 your trip for the present, and buy a farm 
 [pointing to one in the neighborhood that 
 was for sale], and place your family in a 
 comfortable position. If you go to Europe, 
 and never return, they are then provided 
 for ; and this reflection will console you 
 under any trials you may be called on to 
 pass through." This appeal was too much 
 for me. I yielded ; and the next morning, 
 instead of starting for Europe, I started for 
 the farm, and before night had a deed of 
 one hundred and fifty acres. I next made 
 a contract with a carpenter to build a f rame- 
 
 1 The ship I was intending to sail in was the ill-fated 
 Albion. She was wrecked, and all on board were lost 
 except one man, an invalid, who was thrown up a cleft in 
 the rocks and saved. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 55 
 
 house upon it ; and then started for Wash- 
 ington to spend the winter. 
 
 I had fairly begun work before Congress 
 assembled, and had some happy specimens 
 for exhibition. I spent about six months 
 there ; was full of business, and was able 
 in the spring to pay for the new house, and 
 make another payment on the farm. 
 
 The following summer I spent in Pitts- 
 field and Northampton. Mr. Mills, United 
 States Senator from Massachusetts, resided 
 in the latter town. He had seen my pictures 
 in Washington, and had spoken favorably 
 of them and of me ; and I found that I 
 had already a high reputation. I at once got 
 orders, and in a short time my room was 
 tolerably well filled with pictures. 
 
 While I was there, the annual cattle-show 
 came off. I allowed my pictures to be 
 exhibited among the mechanic arts. They 
 elicited great admiration, and formed one of 
 the chief attractions. I went into the room 
 one day when there was a great crowd, and 
 was soon pointed out as the artist. Con- 
 versation ceased, and all eyes were turned 
 upon me. This was altogether too much 
 for my modesty, and I withdrew as quickly 
 as possible. 
 
 I one day received an invitation to a large 
 
56 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 party, to be given by Mrs. Ashmun (the 
 stepmother of George Ashmun), which I 
 accepted; but, as the evening drew near, 
 began to regret that I had done so. I finally 
 went into my room, and sat down on the 
 bed, before beginning to dress, and took the 
 matter into serious consideration. Should 
 I go ? or should I not ? It was a fearful 
 ordeal to go through. I had never been to 
 a fashionable lady's party, and should not 
 know how to behave. My heart grew faint 
 at the thought of my ignorance and awk- 
 wardness. But then, I reflected, there must 
 be a first time ; and, with a mighty effort, 
 resolved that this should be it ! So I went, 
 and passed through the trial better than I 
 anticipated ; but I was glad enough when it 
 was over. 
 
 While in Northampton, I painted the 
 portraits of two gentlemen from Boston. 
 They encouraged me to establish myself in 
 that city. I did so, and for six months rode 
 triumphantly on the top wave of fortune. 
 I took a large room, arranged my pictures, 
 and fixed upon one o'clock as my hour for 
 exhibition. As soon as the clock struck, 
 my bell would begin to ring; and people 
 would flock in, sometimes to the number of 
 fifty. New orders were constantly given me 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 57 
 
 for pictures. I was compelled to resort to a 
 book for registering the names of the numer- 
 ous applicants. As a vacancy occurred, I 
 had only to notify the next on the list, and 
 it was filled. I do not think any artist in 
 this country ever enjoyed more popularity 
 than I did ; but popularity is often easily 
 won, and as easily lost. Mr. Stuart, the 
 greatest portrait painter this country ever 
 produced, was at that time in his manhood's 
 strength as a painter ; yet he was idle half 
 the winter. He would ask of his friends, 
 " How rages the Harding fever ? " 
 
 Although 1 had painted about eighty por- 
 traits, I had a still greater number of ap- 
 plicants awaiting their turn ; but I was de- 
 termined to go to Europe, as I had money 
 enough to pay for my farm, and some six- 
 teen hundred dollars besides. I had en- 
 gaged to paint a few portraits in Springfield, 
 which I did on my- way to Barre, N. Y., 
 where my family were living. After spend- 
 ing a week or two there in arranging mat- 
 ters connected with their comfort, I took 
 leave of them, and started for New York 
 city, where I was to embark. On my way, I 
 spent a day or two in Northampton with my 
 friends. While there, a lady, whose judg- 
 ment I respected, advised me to send for 
 
58 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 my family, and establish them in that town ; 
 urging as a reason, that my children would 
 grow up wild where they were, and that my 
 wife could not improve in the accomplish- 
 ments of refined society, but would inevita- 
 bly remain stationary, on the standard level 
 of those she would be obliged to associate 
 with, while I should be improving, by min- 
 gling with the refined and distinguished per- 
 sons my profession would throw me among. 
 I was impressed with the good sense of this 
 advice, and adopted it. I started at once 
 for my wild home, and brought my family, 
 now numbering four children, to Northamp- 
 ton, and saw them well settled in a very ex- 
 cellent boarding-house, where they remained 
 two years. I have had good reason to thank 
 my friend for her judicious suggestion. 
 
 And now, at last, I took my departure 
 for a foreign land, leaving wife, children, 
 and friends, — all, indeed, that I had sym- 
 pathy with, — to cast in my lot, for a time, 
 with strangers in a strange land. My heart 
 was full of conflicting emotions. Scores of 
 my patrons in Boston had tried to dissuade 
 me from taking this step, some urging as a 
 reason, that I already had such a press of 
 business that I could lay up a considerable 
 sum of money yearly ; while others insisted 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 59 
 
 that I need not go abroad, for I already 
 painted better pictures than any artist in 
 this country, and probably better than any 
 in Europe. My self-esteem was not large 
 enough, however, to listen to all this, and 
 my desire for study and improvement was 
 too great to be overpowered by flattery. In 
 spite of all advice to the contrary, I sailed 
 for England, in the good packet ship Can- 
 ada, on the first day of August, 1823. 
 
 During the two years of separation from 
 my family which ensued, I kept a journal 
 to send to my wife ; and, as it gives the de- 
 tails of my experiences on the other side of 
 the Atlantic with greater freshness than I 
 could throw into any account I might try to 
 give at this distance of time, I shall continue 
 my narrative by making extracts from it. 
 
CHAPTEK III. 
 
 That Mr. Harding's career had excited 
 a widespread and unusual interest, is evi- 
 denced by many tributes to his genius writ- 
 ten at that time, which still exist. As early 
 as June 29, 1823, before he went to Eng- 
 land, Samuel Orne, Esq., of Springfield, 
 Mass., wrote regarding him to his brother- 
 in-law, Hon. D. A. White of Salem, Mass., 
 as follows : — 
 
 " Mr. Harding's three weeks were up yester- 
 day, in which time he has painted fifteen por- 
 traits, one of which is an excellent one of himself. 
 He has also painted Judge Hooker, Mr. G. Bliss, 
 Mr. Sprague, Mr. Ames, and Mr. Pyncheon, he- 
 sides those he had begun when you were with us. 
 I sent you the last " Journal," containing a most 
 ridiculous puffing article, for you to laugh at, 
 written by the editor, from which I should think 
 Harding would have received anything rather 
 than pleasure. As to the likenesses, however, 
 they are admirable, and the painting I should 
 cofl^Wer first-rate. The difficulty seems to be 
 to decide which is best ; the majority, however, 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 61 
 
 vote the Parson's [Rev. W. B. O. Peabody] to 
 be, and mine the least striking at first, but im- 
 proves the most on acquaintance. Hang it, why 
 can't it be so with the original ! . . . Mr. Hard- 
 ing, I feel more and more interest in the more I 
 see him. In addition to his wonderful genius, 
 and his natural good sense, he has that frank, 
 generous, open-hearted, unaffected manner, which 
 at once secures a strong hold on your best feel- 
 ings." 
 
 J. Stoddard Johnston, Esq., of Frankfort, 
 Ky., writes in 1881 to Samuel Bowles, Esq., 
 of Springfield, Mass. 
 
 " The receipt of your letter reminded me that 
 I had seen contemporary mention of Mr. Hard- 
 ing in some old family letters. I have succeeded 
 in finding the one in which he is mentioned, and 
 transcribe it, as of probable interest. It is writ- 
 ten by my great-grandfather, in New York, to his 
 daughter, my grandmother, in New Orleans. 
 
 " ' March 25, 1824. 
 " ' Calling at Mr. Dwight's office yesterday, he 
 mentioned a curious fact of an American artist, 
 a portrait painter of eminence, Chester Harding, 
 about five years ago destitute of home and hope. 
 . . . Last August he sailed for Liverpool, and is 
 now in London. He has painted Mr. Rush and 
 lady, Mr. Perkins, Mr. Coke, the great, wealthy 
 agriculturist, and his family, the Duke of Sussex, 
 
62 CHESTER HABMNG. 
 
 and is patronized by the Duke of Gloucester. 
 He has written for permission to exhibit the por- 
 trait of our minister, Mr. Rush, in our Academy. 
 It is probable that he will meet with the great- 
 est success and reward in England, that great 
 mart of encouragement for the arts and sciences. 
 This is so astonishing an instance of original 
 genius rising superior to want of education and 
 absolute penury, that I have thought it a better 
 topic for your gratification than occupying the 
 same number of lines with mere inanity.' " 
 
 The allusion to himself, referred to by 
 Mr. Harding in a letter to his wife, some- 
 what later, is also introduced here. It is 
 taken from " Blackwood's Magazine " for 
 August, 1824, under the head of " Portrait 
 Painting." 
 
 "CHESTER HAKDING. 
 
 " This extraordinary man is a fair specimen of 
 the American character. About six years ago, 
 he was living in the wilds of Kentucky, had never 
 seen a decent picture in his life, and spent most 
 of his leisure time, such as could be spared from 
 the more laborious occupations of life, in drum- 
 ming for a militia company, and in fitting axe- 
 helves to axes, in which two things he soon be- 
 came distinguished. By and by some revolution 
 took place in his affairs ; a new ambition sprang 
 up within him j and being in a strange place 
 
CHESTER HARDING, 63 
 
 (without friends, and without money, and with 
 a family of his own), at a tavern, the landlord of 
 which had been disappointed by a sign painter, 
 Mr. Harding undertook the sign, apparently out 
 of compassion to the landlord, but in reality, 
 to pay his bill, and provide bread for his chil- 
 dren. He succeeded ; had plenty of employment 
 in the ' profession ' of sign painting, took heart, 
 and ventured a step higher, — first in painting 
 chairs, and then portraits. Laughable as this 
 may seem, it is nevertheless entirely and strictly 
 true. . . . 
 
 " Mr. Harding is now in London ; has painted 
 some remarkably good portraits (not pictures) ; 
 among others, one of John D. Hunter (the hero 
 of 'Hunter's Narrative'), which is decidedly the 
 best of a multitude ; one or two of H. R. H. the 
 Duke of Sussex, the head of which is capital ; 
 one of Mr. Owen, of Lanark, — a portrait of ex- 
 traordinary plainness, power, and sobriety ; and 
 some others which were shown at Somerset House 
 and Suffolk Street. 
 
 " Mr. Harding is ignorant of drawing. It is 
 completely evident that he draws only with a full 
 brush, correcting the parts by comparison one 
 with another. Hence it is that his heads and 
 ■ bodies appear to be the work of two different 
 persons, a master and a bungler. His hands are 
 very bad ; his composition, generally, quite after 
 the fashion of a beginner ; and his drapery very 
 like block-tin, or rather, I should say, this was 
 
64 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 the case, for there is a very visible improvement 
 in his late works. A. B." 
 
 Upon Mr. Harding's departure for Eng- 
 land, Miss Louisa J. Park of Boston, af- 
 terwards the wife of E. B. Hall, D. D., 
 addressed to him the following lines : — 
 
 " Is there no magic in the works of men ? 
 Sits there no spirit, Bryant, on thy pen ? 
 Doth Allston commune hut with earthly things ? 
 Is it no witchcraft that round Harding flings 
 The mighty power to chain Expression down, 
 And sketch with equal truth the sage or clown ? 
 How from his rapid touch the features grow, 
 And on the senseless canvas living glow! 
 While gentler strokes shade each defect away, 
 Yet let the fixed and close resemblance stay ! 
 Most wondrous gift, from nature's self derived, 
 His genius of all foreign aid deprived, 
 Sprung up and hloomed amid our wilds ohscure, 
 And won its self-taught way to glory sure. 
 No Grecian temples caught his boyish eye, 
 In youth, he gazed on no Italian sky, 
 But taste untutored claimed her favorite child, 
 And heaven-horn Genius led him from the wild. 
 Soon shall the deep blue waves beneath him heave, 
 And brighter lands his pilgrim steps receive. 
 Soon shall the noblest trophies of his art 
 Wake the deep raptures of his feeling heart ; 
 But, oh ! still homeward may his wishes turn ; 
 To gild his country's fame, each talent burn ! 
 Crowned with success, uninjured by his fame, 
 As erst our great, our modest Allston came, 
 Soon may he tread his native shores once more, 
 And find his perils with his wanderings o'er." 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 65 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL. 
 
 1823, August 1. Left New York for 
 Liverpool in the ship Canada. Got on 
 board the steamboat at the Battery wharf 
 at 10 o'clock A. M., and on board ship at 
 12, the ship having dropped down the har- 
 bor the night preceding. While my fellow- 
 passengers were taking leave of friends and 
 relatives, I, being deprived of that com- 
 pound of pain and pleasure, stood gazing, 
 sometimes on the crowd that came to see us 
 off, sometimes on the distant and delightful 
 scenery that surrounds the harbor, and 
 sometimes lost in silent meditations. 
 
 Ship weighed anchor at 4 p. M., and beat 
 out against head winds. 
 
 August 6. Surrounded by waves moun- 
 tain-high. Sometimes our ship plunged into 
 the valley and then rose to the brow of an 
 immense hill. We continued, however, to 
 sail on in the centre of this apparent circle, 
 which seemed to move on with us. 
 
 August 13. Saw a brig at a great dis- 
 tance. At 4 p. M. killed a porpoise, and 
 took him on board. He appears more like 
 flesh than fish; has a great quantity of 
 blood in his frame, and about the jaws and 
 neck resembles a hog. 
 
66 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 August 14. High wind and rain, with a 
 tremendous sea. 
 
 August 15. Gale so severe that I could 
 ohtain no sleep at night. 
 
 August 16. I was very much alarmed 
 by the continued and increased violence of 
 the gale, but I fancy without any real dan- 
 ger. While others slumbered in fearless 
 security, I was busily occupied upon deck 
 in seeing that all was rightly managed. 
 
 August 17. Greatly refreshed by a night 
 of undisturbed sleep. Off Cape Clear, with 
 a light breeze from the south. Sea very calm, 
 with little rolling or pitching of the vessel, a 
 pleasure, the enjoyment of which repaid us 
 well for the suffering undergone for three 
 days and nights, previously, during the beat- 
 ing inflicted by the gale. Strong hopes en- 
 tertained among the passengers of being in 
 Liverpool, Tuesday morning, the 19th, and 
 many bets made on the subject. 
 
 August 18. Went on deck at 4 o'clock 
 A. M., and found the sailors taking in sail. 
 At half past four, saw the sun rise, and be- 
 fore half of its orb was visible it began to 
 be hid by a black cloud. The whole sky 
 looked awfully threatening. The captain 
 seemed much agitated, and upon speaking 
 with him, I found that we were in the Irish 
 
CHESTEB BABMNG. 67 
 
 Channel, and within a short distance of the 
 rock on which the unfortunate Albion was 
 lost. This intelligence, with the recollection 
 of how near I came to' taking passage on 
 board that vessel, occasioned not a little 
 emotion. The captain kept pacing the deck 
 amid a violent rain-storm, which had now 
 commenced, and beat full in his face. This 
 voluntary exposure did not lessen my fears. 
 Soon, however, the clouds began to break 
 and clear away. 12 o'clock, all well. At 
 4 p. m., take in a pilot. 
 
 August 19. As the sun rose, we discov- 
 ered land ; at 10 A. M., arrived safely in port, 
 and felt so ridiculously happy in putting my 
 foot on shore again that I laughed heartily, 
 without knowing why. 
 
 The docks of this city are amazing to a 
 stranger. The city has very narrow, dirty 
 streets, over shoes in mud. Went in search 
 of the picture gallery, and after much 
 trouble in searching found it, but there 
 were few good pictures in it. 
 
 Stopped at the Waterloo Hotel, where 
 everything is in fine style. 
 
 Wednesday, August 20. Took a seat at 
 Liverpool in an opposition coach for Bir- 
 mingham. Traveled through a delightful and 
 highly cultivated country. Admired the neat 
 
68 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 and clean appearance of the cottages. Tie 
 sudden and very great transition from ease 
 and opulence to extreme and abject misery 
 cannot fail, however, to be a source of pain- 
 ful reflection to every intelligent traveler 
 upon that road. The rich seem to have al- 
 most exhaustless wealth from the refinement 
 and profusion of their luxuries; and the 
 squalid wretchedness of the poor exhibits 
 not less striking evidence of the extreme of 
 poverty. The first annoyance experienced 
 by a stranger traveling in this country is 
 the unremitting applications of coachmen, 
 waiters, and chambermaids for money, when 
 he is unable to discover any foundation for 
 their claims. Custom, however, is so des- 
 potic a tyrant, and so irresistible in his 
 sway, that one yields to all these demands 
 without questioning their justice; the au- 
 thority from which they are derived is so 
 universally respected that its name is a 
 sufficient passport for every species of im- 
 position. 
 
 Birmingham, from its great number of 
 mills, is enveloped in smoke ; which, in ad- 
 dition to a fog, almost prevents one from 
 finding his way through the streets. 
 
 One of our fellow - passengers gave us 
 (Captain Barnaby and myself) a letter to 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 69 
 
 his friend in Birmingham, which contained 
 a singular mistake, that amused us not a 
 little. The letter ran, " Dear Tom, will 
 you show these gentlemen some of your 
 manufactures f " instead of factories. The 
 consequences of the mistake were such as 
 might be anticipated. The note was duly 
 delivered with our address, and in a very 
 short time the " man of brass " came down, 
 quite out of breath, with many apologies for 
 being out when we did him the favor to 
 call, begging that we would accompany him 
 to his warehouse, where he would show us 
 as great a variety, and at as low prices, as 
 any man in his line in Birmingham. But, 
 alas ! when informed by us of his mistake, 
 and he ascertained that he should have no 
 heavy orders to fill, he was instantly seized 
 with an ague that seemed to freeze him into 
 utter speechlessness : but a few moments 
 sufficed to restore to hiin the use of his fac- 
 ulties, and his manners softened towards us 
 sufficiently to induce an offer of his ser- 
 vices in showing us some of the wonders of 
 the town; an offer which was readily ac- 
 cepted, and which procured us the sight of 
 one brass and copper foundry. 
 
 Friday, August 22. Left Birmingham 
 for London. 
 
70 CHESTER HARDING 
 
 Saturday, August 23. Entered the 
 grand metropolis, and took lodgings at Coop- 
 er's Hotel. Walked about the neighboring 
 streets ; saw the mighty St. Paul's, and the 
 millions passing it. On first entering Fleet 
 Street, I was disposed to stop until the 
 crowd had passed, but soon found the pro- 
 cession was interminable. In the evening 
 went to see Matthews in " Mons. Tonson ; " 
 not so much gratified as when I saw him in 
 Boston. 
 
 Sunday, August 24. Rain and smoke 
 render a candle almost necessary to read or 
 write. My friend left me to my own re- 
 flections, which my situation, — being in a 
 small, dark room in the third story, or, as 
 my friend described it, " the first floor down 
 the chimney," — united to a gloomy day, 
 conspired to make quite depressing. My 
 only prospect from the windows was a sight 
 of a few dirty buildings with their out- 
 houses. Then the awful tolling of St. Paul's 
 went to my heart with overwhelming power. 
 I had never before heard such melancholy 
 peals, and their first influence was irresist- 
 ible. The clouds broke in the evening, and 
 I walked down to the Waterloo Bridge. 
 
 Tuesday, August 26. Took a coach, and 
 drove up and down the city in search of 
 
CHESTER HABDING. 71 
 
 Mr. Leslie, without knowing his address ; 
 and, after two or three hours of fruitless 
 exertion, and half a guinea coach hire, I 
 accidentally cast my eye on the letter I had 
 to him, when I saw, " No. 8, Buckingham 
 Street, Fitzroy Square." I had the satisfac- 
 tion of at length presenting my letter to 
 him ; but, finding him engaged, I soon left 
 him, with the promise to call again in the 
 evening. At tea, met Newton and Bowman 
 and Mason, with whom I had a delightful 
 conversation. 
 
 Wednesday, August 27. Accompanied 
 Leslie to the Royal Academy, where I found 
 many students at their " devotions," and 
 saw one of Raphael's Cartoons, with copies 
 of all of them. I was greatly disappointed 
 in these renowned works, more particularly 
 in regard to their coloring. 
 
 Thursday, August 28. Mr. Leslie having 
 procured me a ticket of admission to the 
 gallery of Mr. Angerstein, 1 I visited it, 
 and saw there for the first time an original 
 
 1 John Julius Angerstein, a Russian merchant estab- 
 lished in London, — born at St. Petersburg in 1735, died 
 in 1822, — distinguished himself by his liberal patron- 
 age of the fine arts. After his death, his collection of 
 paintings was purchased by the English government for 
 £60,000, as the nucleus of » national gallery. — Ameri- 
 can Encyclopaedia. 
 
72 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 Vandyke : it was masterly indeed, and quite 
 equaled my expectations. Saw many Ti- 
 tians, which failed in producing the same 
 gratification ; saw also several Claudes, all 
 beautiful as Nature herself. There is here, 
 likewise, a picture of the raising of Lazarus, 
 by one of the old masters, which has been 
 and still is extravagantly extolled, and which 
 cost an enormous sum. Yet, notwithstand- 
 ing its high reputation, and my endeavors 
 to admire it because Leslie pointed it out to 
 me, I could not think it very fine. I shall 
 probably change my opinion of it upon a 
 more extensive knowledge of the art, but I 
 would give more for Mr. Allston's unfin- 
 ished picture than for a score of such. Saw 
 a fine Sir Joshua, and one of Wilkie, — a 
 Scotch merrymaking ; delighted with both, 
 as also Hogarth's " Marriage a la Mode." 
 
 September 1. Being my birthday, I had 
 Mason to dine with me. After dinner, we 
 went to see the grand gallery of the late 
 Mr. West. From what I had already seen 
 of his works, I was prepared to find his pic- 
 tures quite inferior to what I once fancied 
 them, and to the estimation of the public. 
 Owing to this prepossession I was the more 
 agreeably disappointed. " Death on the 
 Pale Horse " is awfully sublime, and I 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 73 
 
 shrank back with horror when my eyes first 
 glanced upon it. There were many others 
 that delighted me, many which I thought 
 quite ordinary, and some contemptible. I 
 think that he has departed widely from na- 
 ture in coloring, and that he has carried his 
 classical ideas of the face almost to a de- 
 formity. If his heroes were to walk out of 
 the canvas, and mingle in society, they would 
 be found to resemble men of our day so lit- 
 tle that they would scarcely be recognized 
 as human beings. He was a great man- 
 nerist. His last pictures afford evidence of 
 the decline of his intellectual powers. 
 
 Tuesday, September 2. Commenced the 
 head of Mr. Baldwin for myself, and found 
 that my hand was a good deal out. Leslie, 
 Newton, and others being so curious to see 
 my first picture, added not a little to the 
 mingled feelings of doubt and confidence, 
 hope and fear, which agitated and oppressed 
 me. 
 
 Monday, September 8. Finished the por- 
 trait of Mr. Baldwin. Not entirely satisfied 
 with it, but by no means discouraged ; for 
 I daily behold worse paintings than I ever 
 painted, even in Pittsburgh. Went to Vaux- 
 hall Gardens. I had never seen anything 
 before resembling these gardens, and had no 
 
74 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 idea of the amusements they afford. Bar- 
 naby and I went about ten o'clock ; and, in 
 entering, took a long alley that was inten- 
 tionally left very dark, and which opened 
 directly into the quietest part of the garden. 
 My astonishment upon leaving this dark 
 alley was indeed beyond conception. There 
 were, I suppose, ten thousand lamps, of va- 
 rious colors, most tastefully arranged, whose 
 dazzling light bewildered, and, for a few 
 moments, nearly blinded me, as they burst 
 upon me, in contrast to the darkness I had 
 left. In the centre of the principal part of 
 the garden is an orchestra prettily fitted up 
 with lamps and with fifty or more per- 
 formers ; there are also beautiful rotundas 
 and long promenades. At every other place 
 of amusement, such as the theatre, balls, etc., 
 you see some thoughtful faces ; but here 
 every countenance is lit up with smiles, 
 which give unequivocal evidence of partici- 
 pation in the enjoyment and magic influ- 
 ences of the scene. Splendid fire and water 
 works were playing all the time. It was to 
 me a scene of such perfect enchantment 
 that I took no note of time ; and it was near 
 three o'clock before we left the gardens. 
 
 September 9. At night, taken violently 
 ill of the cholera ; thought of having occa- 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 75 
 
 sion for an " undertaker ; " wished myself 
 at home a thousand times in the course of a 
 long and tedious night. The thought was 
 dreadful to me of the possibility that I 
 might not see home again : the idea of dy- 
 ing away from home was horrible. This 
 weakness did not leave me until I was out 
 of danger. Morning at length came, and I 
 got once more upon my feet; and, before 
 night, obtained relief. 
 
 Thursday, September 11. Quite re- 
 covered my strength. Began the portrait 
 of Captain Barnaby, and walked about the 
 city. 
 
 Friday, September 12. Went to see the 
 London Docks ; saw a wilderness of masts ; 
 ships from every quarter of the globe ; many 
 from my own country, which I looked upon 
 with uncommon pride and pleasure. I 
 thought them infinitely the finest ships in 
 dock. It was a charming sight. 
 
 Saturday, September 13. Went with 
 Bowman to see Sir Thomas Lawrence's por- 
 traits. As much pleased as on the first 
 visit. His women are angels, but his men 
 are not so faultless by any means. There 
 happened to be two or three learned critics 
 making: their remarks while we were there. 
 It occurred to me, while listening to these 
 
76 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 gentlemen, that, however excellent a painter 
 may be, it must take a long time to become 
 known to the world ; but, having once be- 
 come celebrated, whatever he does is out of 
 the reach of criticism : visitors go to see his 
 works with a predisposition to be pleased 
 with them. Very different is the case with 
 the beginner. Instead of overlooking the 
 faults, they are most apt to overlook any 
 little merit the picture may possess, and 
 seem to take great credit to themselves for 
 having discovered that the pictures are not 
 perfect ; but, happily for the artists, and 
 perhaps for the art, the beginner is content 
 with a smaller share of approbation, as he 
 also is content with a small price for his 
 first efforts. To criticise and praise judi- 
 ciously requires great knowledge : to find 
 fault is an easy task, as no work of genius 
 is perfect. A young painter needs the crit- 
 icism of the wise, that he may be confirmed 
 in what is good in his work, and not merely 
 to be made to feel that his work is bad. 
 
 Monday, September 15. Went with Mr. 
 and Miss Leslie, and a party of ladies and 
 gentlemen, to see the Dulwich Gallery. 
 This is a splendid collection. The portrait 
 of the Archduke Albert, by Vandyke, is 
 the finest piece of art that I have yet seen ; 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 77 
 
 it is very nearly, if not quite, perfect ; the 
 shadows are so transparent that they do not 
 appear at all at first glance. The portrait 
 of Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic Muse, by Sir 
 Joshua, is a fine picture ; very yellow, per- 
 haps too much so. Saw some of Claude's 
 fine landscapes, and a multitude of other 
 pictures, such as Cuyp, Poussin, Titian, 
 Rembrandt, and some others, whose works 
 are admirable : but then there are, as an 
 offset to these beautiful pieces, hundreds 
 of inferior productions, which to my mind 
 are not worth the trouble of preserving, 
 though they all in their turn find admirers. 
 Some will admire a picture because it looks 
 old ; some, because it is so dark nothing is 
 left to the eye, but all to the imagination ; 
 others, for the respect they have for the 
 name of its author. 
 
 We then went to a beautiful spot of ris- 
 ing ground, about two miles from Dulwich, 
 where we could see St. Paul's, and many 
 other points of London. We had our for- 
 tunes told by some gypsies on our way. 
 After walking about until four o'clock, we 
 found ourselves seated upon the side of a 
 hill, with our dejeuner, which was previously 
 provided, before us : all ate as if it were his 
 last meal. One of the greatest pleasures in 
 
78 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 this kind of feasting seems to be the delight- 
 ful inconvenience which is unavoidable. In 
 consequence of our choice of position, our 
 plates and dishes would slip about in fine 
 style : now a salt-cellar would begin its revo- 
 lutions down the hill; now a glass of ale 
 would follow its example, and perhaps a 
 mustard-pot would turn a somersault or 
 two ; in short, we had every annoyance that 
 can be necessary to render such an occasion 
 charming. The ceremony of eating once 
 over, and our legs straightened again, we 
 adjourned to a level spot of grass that was 
 like velvet, where we commenced a dance, 
 which closed our amusements. 
 
 Sunday, September 21. My friend Bar- 
 naby kindly invited me to spend a week 
 with him at his friend's, in Oxfordshire ; so 
 we mounted to the top of a coach, and, after 
 traveling four or five hours in a hard rain, 
 we arrived at our place of destination. The 
 captain's friend, Mr. Large, is a gentleman 
 farmer of some wealth, and much esteemed 
 by all classes of society. Here I spent ten 
 days, and I must say I never spent ten days 
 more delightfully in my life. On the even- 
 ing of our arrival, we were invited to a 
 " harvest-home : " we met about fifteen eren- 
 tlemen. When we first entered the room, T 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 79 
 
 thought we were in a Yankee bar-room, so 
 full was it of smoke. Every gentleman had 
 his long pipe, that»sent forth its blue encir- 
 cling smoke most plentifully. The com- 
 pany, however, bore no likeness to the class 
 that is found haunting our bar-rooms ; they 
 were mostly men of reading, and some of 
 classical education. They were seated in a 
 circle around a large fire, with a small table 
 to each three or four ; every man had his 
 tumbler of hot toddy, of brandy, rum, or 
 gin, as best pleased himself ; and they were 
 emptied often enough to keep the company 
 in good heart. Songs and stories went 
 round in rapid succession. At twelve 
 o'clock we sat down to a plentiful supper ; 
 and at two went home, happy enough. . . . 
 Monday, September 29. Now came on 
 the most delightful sport in the world. Mr. 
 Large had invited about twenty ladies and 
 gentlemen to take a day's sport, of coursing 
 the hare. This, I found, was to show me 
 a specimen of country sports. We went 
 into the field in a martial manner, all well 
 mounted ; and we soon started a hare. The 
 hounds were uncoupled, and after the little 
 harmless creature they went like lightning, 
 and the riders as close in the chase as pos- 
 sible. " Here she is ! " — " There she goes ! " 
 
80 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 — " Now we have her ! " — " The hounds 
 have lost the scent ! " — " No ; they have it 
 again ! " and so on was the cry for ten or 
 fifteen minutes, when the hounds came up 
 with her, and soon dispatched her. In the 
 course of the day we had seven or eight fine 
 courses. One could hardly say which were 
 most excited by them, — the horses, the 
 riders, or the dogs. At night, most of the 
 gentlemen sat down to a dinner prepared 
 for the occasion, which was a jollification in- 
 deed. We stuck to the table until three 
 o'clock : we had toasts, songs, and a flood 
 of the best wines the country could afford. 
 The old parson was the man last at the 
 table ; and, while at it, would thump the 
 hardest, drink the hardest, and laugh the 
 loudest, of all the company. Thus ended 
 my delightful visit. 
 
 EXTRACT FKOM A LETTER TO HON. S. V. LYMAN 
 OF NORTHAMPTON. 
 
 London, October 10, 1823. 
 I have just returned from a Sunday visit 
 in the country, where I mixed with farming 
 gentlemen, country squires, and clergymen, 
 and a pleasant visit it was. They are of 
 the class I most wish to see. They are 
 hospitable and frank in their manners, and 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 81 
 
 mostly men of education, but of little gen- 
 eral knowledge, — rich, though few own the 
 land they cultivate. It is owned by the 
 lords and gentry, with few exceptions. The 
 gentleman with whom we stayed is a great 
 sheep-grower and farmer, keeps his horses 
 and hounds for the accommodation of his 
 friends, and drinks his old port every day, 
 after dinner ; in short, lives the kind of life 
 that would not offend you or me in America. 
 But, my dear sir, the parishes here are made 
 up of everything undesirable that the im- 
 agination can paint. I will not go into de- 
 tail, lest I tarnish the fair picture I have 
 just drawn. ... I laughed heartily when 
 you spoke of my qualifications as a traveler, 
 and compared me to the immortal Franklin. 
 Would to God I were worthy to be named 
 in the same breath with that great man ! 
 
 Monday, October 13. Went with Mason 
 to Westminster Abbey ; struck with amaze- 
 ment at this wonderful pile ; the architec- 
 ture is sublime, but, together with all that 
 we associate with Westminster Abbey, it is 
 impressive beyond the power of description. 
 
 Friday, October 17. Went to Drury 
 Lane Theatre. In going into the pit in a 
 tremendous crowd, had my pockets picked 
 
82 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 of five pounds : whoever took it must have 
 been a finished master in the " art and mys- 
 tery of pocket-picking." My purse was in 
 my pantaloons' pocket, and it was with great 
 difficulty that I could get my own hand into 
 it ; but I suppose it was fished out with 
 hooks that are prepared purposely. Saw 
 Macready in " Hamlet ; " very great acting. 
 
 Sunday, October 19. At twelve, noon, 
 reading by candle-light. A good deal afraid 
 of taking the small-pox. I exchanged beds 
 with the child that lies ill of it the day be- 
 fore the pox made its appearance on her. 
 
 Monday, October 20. Had a great dis- 
 appointment in seeing the celebrated " Cha- 
 peau de Paille," by Rubens. I thought it 
 had little, besides the name of its author, to 
 recommend it to the lover of art. I think 
 it vastly overrated : had I seen it in a pawn- 
 broker's window, with the price of five 
 pounds affixed to it, I am certain I should 
 have passed it without buying. The face 
 is out of drawing, and the coloring by no 
 means to my taste. I am almost sorry that 
 I saw it. By the side of it, I saw the half- 
 length portrait of an old woman (by Rem- 
 brandt) that was living. I would rather 
 possess it than a score of the " Chapeau de 
 Paille." 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 83 
 
 Thursday, October 30. Went to see the 
 pictures by Sir Joshua, and the copies by 
 the young students of London. Sir Joshua's 
 pictures are splendid : they stand first, in my 
 estimation, of all modern art. Much is said 
 by the artists of the day, however, of their 
 bad drawing and fading colors ; so I must 
 take another look or two before I make a 
 decision. The more I learn of the system 
 of copying even the greatest painters, the 
 more I disapprove of it. Of this I am tol- 
 erably certain : that it is very absurd to 
 put the inexperienced to copy these mas- 
 terly productions. How these effects have 
 been produced puzzles the oldest and best 
 painters now living, and to put young schol- 
 ars to copy these works is, in my opinion, 
 like putting a boy to solve a knotty problem 
 in algebra, before he knows his letters or 
 figures. Had I a friend beginning to paint, 
 he should not copy a picture unless it were 
 to ascertain the colors that had been used, 
 of which he might be in doubt. 
 
 extract from a letter to c. m. h. (his 
 wife). 
 
 London, November 4, 1823. 
 You cannot imagine how much I want 
 the society of yourself and the bairns in this 
 
84 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 unsocial world ; much of my time is spent 
 in solitude. It is not the most desirable way 
 of 'living I do assure you, yet it is as others 
 live. You perhaps would like to know what 
 my occupations and amusements are, and I 
 can tell you in a few words. My time is 
 chiefly spent between the study of French, 
 history, and painting. My amusements are 
 the theatres and sometimes, though seldom, 
 I kill an hour with my friends. My prin- 
 cipal pleasure is in anticipation. You have 
 often heard me say that our pleasures live 
 only in memory and hope, and I do assure 
 you my greatest enjoyment is in the hope of 
 again meeting my family and friends, and 
 of deserving and receiving that patronage 
 my countrymen were disposed to extend to 
 me before I left America. But this I am 
 well aware of, that more will be expected 
 and required of me than was looked for in 
 me before leaving my country ; .in the same 
 way as what would be considered an as- 
 tonishing effort in a boy of fifteen would be 
 but feeble in a man of thirty. 
 
 You will not, I hope, think from my man- 
 ner of writing that I am discouraged, for, 
 be assured, it is not the case. I am pretty 
 well convinced that I have nothing to un- 
 learn : yet there are many things I have to 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 85 
 
 guard against, the most prominent of which 
 is an artificial taste, or a kind of antiquarian 
 madness which seems to be very contagious, 
 judging from the number of its victims. I 
 have met them at different exhibitions, where 
 I have heard them praise, in the most ex- 
 travagant manner, and without discrimina- 
 tion, the worst as well as the finest of the 
 works of the old masters. I have seen some 
 of these that truly delighted me, and would 
 as soon quarrel with a connoisseur for not 
 admiring these excellent works, as I would 
 for his admiration of the most indifferent of 
 them. . . . 
 
 I hope you make good use of the oppor- 
 tunities you have of improving yourself in 
 useful knowledge. You have a double 
 charge in watching over the actions and in- 
 clinations of our little ones, bless their souls ! 
 in which I am certain you will not be remiss. 
 
 Thursday, November 13. Began the por- 
 trait of Mr. Rush. 
 
 November 18. Finished it much to my 
 own liking ; it is my best head. 
 
 to c. M. H. 
 
 London, November 27, 1823. 
 . . . Caroline, I never read your letters 
 
86 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 with such interest before ; if you knew the 
 pleasure they gave me, I am sure you would 
 spin them out to a great length ; you can 
 mention nothing that will be uninteresting, 
 coming from home and you. 
 
 I am glad that you are so well pleased 
 with the family and the society you live in, 
 and beg you not to waste your time in 
 mourning my absence, for it may be more 
 wisely spent. I would have you by all 
 means enjoy the fine society you are in. I 
 am glad to know that you are about to com- 
 mence the study of the Trench language, 
 and I hope you will make greater proficiency 
 in it than I do. My head is so full of paint- 
 ing that, while in England, I shall not excel 
 in that elegant language, I fear, and, indeed, 
 it is little matter if I know no other than 
 my favorite language, which speaks to the 
 understanding through the sense of sight. 
 
 I have had an introduction to Sir Thomas 
 Lawrence, through Mr. Rush, and find him 
 a very polite, gentlemanly man. He ex- 
 pressed a wish to see one of my pictures, and 
 promised to criticise it candidly; so a few 
 days after, I carried him the head of Mr. 
 Rush, which I have just finished, and my 
 own, for his inspection. He looked at both 
 for some time, without saying a word, during 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 87 
 
 which time I was in awful suspense, but at 
 length he spoke of them in very flattering 
 terms. He asked in what school I had stud- 
 ied ; I told him in the Stuart school. I 
 told him this that he need not think I 
 wanted to pass for a prodigy. He then had 
 a sitter, so after inviting me to call often 
 and at all times, he left me to make such 
 comparisons between his and my own pic- 
 tures as I could. A few nights after, I met 
 him at the Academy, where he was very 
 polite. So much for this wonderful man. 
 But I do not think, after all, that his heads 
 of men are any better than some of Mr. 
 Stuart's ; Governor Strong's portrait, for 
 instance. 
 
 Monday, December 8. Spent Sunday 
 evening at Mr. Rush's, where I met Mr. 
 Owen, Mr. Hunter, and several other coun- 
 trymen, as well as a number of Englishmen. 
 Was highly pleased with Mr. Owen ; and 
 listened with deep interest for two hours to 
 the conversation of Mr. Rush and Mr. 
 Owen. It ran chiefly upon the new system 
 of education adopted by the latter at New 
 Lanark. The theory seems very feasible, 
 and the successful experiments he has made 
 at New Lanark leave little doubt of its use- 
 fulness. The system is thoroughly republi- 
 
88 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 can, and Mr. Owen says that the United 
 States is the " half-way house " between this 
 country and his desired object. 
 
 Wednesday, December 24. Mr. Leslie 
 continues to be as kind and friendly as ever ; 
 he never loses an opportunity of serving me 
 in any way. If there are any collections of 
 pictures, or lectures on art, he never fails of 
 gaining me admittance, which to me is worth 
 half the city besides. He smuggled me 
 into Somerset House to-day to hear the 
 annual lecture by Sir Thomas Lawrence. 
 After a few words of congratulation to those 
 who had just received the prizes for drawing 
 and painting, the latter took a broad and 
 general view of act, which he treated in-ar-~ 
 very interesting manner. He said miKih 
 upon the comparative merits of modern mas- 
 ters. He eulogized Mr. West most highly. 
 He is the best reader, Lewis Strong ex- 
 cepted, that I have ever heard, and is one 
 of the best looking men in the world, with 
 black or very dark brown eyes, and a fine, 
 white polished forehead. 
 
 Thursday, December 25. Breakfasted 
 with Hunter. Met Mr. Owen and other 
 gentlemen. Mr. Owen invited me to dine 
 with him at Mr. John Smith's, M. P. Here 
 I felt painfully embarrassed, being conscious 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 89 
 
 that I was in some measure the representa- 
 tive of my country, or that I might be taken 
 as a specimen of Americans. The gentle- 
 men present could know nothing of my his- 
 tory, and, of course, would set me down for 
 just what I appeared to them : they did not 
 even know that I was an artist. However, 
 when I could say nothing to advantage, I 
 listened attentively ; and gained by the con- 
 versation, however much I failed to contrib- 
 ute to it. 
 
 Sunday, December 28. I am often vexed 
 to hear the Americans abuse Mr. Hunter in 
 the manner they do. I have spent much 
 time in his company, and I think him one of 
 the most remarkable men I ever knew. He 
 left the Osage Indians about seven years ago, 
 and brought with him none of the vices in- 
 cident to a civilized people. He was raised 
 among the Indians from infancy, and knew 
 no other, nor wished for any better, way of 
 obtaining a livelihood than that of chasing 
 the buffalo and deer. Humanity prompted 
 him to rescue a party of whites whom the 
 Indians had doomed to destruction, by de- 
 serting his party, coming over to the whites, 
 and putting them on their guard. In con- 
 sequence of which he left his tribe and all 
 the associations of his youth. He first went 
 
90 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 to school at the age of nineteen or twenty ; 
 and the proficiency that he has made in 
 the various branches of scholastic education 
 proves the absurdity of the common opinion, 
 that a man at twenty is too old for studying 
 the sciences, unless he has had the first prin- 
 ciples beat into his head by schoolmasters. 
 Mr. Hunter is a good English and, I am 
 told, a good Latin scholar. He is qualified 
 to practice physic ; he is a good mathemati- 
 cian ; in short, there is scarcely a branch of 
 science that he has not made some profi- 
 ciency in. His society is courted by the 
 great, partly, no doubt, because he is a 
 wonder ; but the very thing that makes him 
 wonderful is that which reflects his greatest 
 honor. I think him an honor to the country 
 that claims him, and I am happy to find 
 that he is devotedly attached to that coun- 
 try. My own want of education I feel con- 
 stantly, but with such an example before me, 
 let me not complain. If knowledge is worth 
 pursuing I think any man can obtain it. 
 
 January 7, 1824. Went last night to the 
 theatre ; saw Madame Vestris in " The Beg- 
 gar's Opera." She is one of the most an- 
 gelic singers on the English stage ; but she 
 is one of the most abandoned of the female 
 race, given up to every vice that can tarnish 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 91 
 
 the female character : the bare mention of 
 her name ought to bring a blush upon the 
 cheek of modesty. To see such a woman 
 cheered and applauded by a Christian audi- 
 ence is to me an unaccountable incongruity. 
 
 January 14. Began the portrait of His 
 Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex. This 
 was the first time that I ever had the honor 
 of seeing one of the royal family ; and, of 
 course, my approach to this august person- 
 age was marked by some little palpitations 
 of the heart : but his affable manners placed 
 me entirely at my case. In the course of the 
 sitting, His Royal Highness spoke warmly 
 of America, and said he felt a pleasure in 
 being painted by an American artist. In 
 this country, it is looked upon as a mark of 
 great distinction to be allowed to paint one 
 of the royal family. For this honor I am 
 indebted to my friend Hunter. The duke 
 is a prodigiously fat man, above six feet 
 high, of very uncommon features, but not 
 intellectual. 
 
 Monday, January 19. Finished the por- 
 trait of the duke. He seems well pleased 
 with it, and seems to take considerable in- 
 terest in my success. All who have seen the 
 portrait think it the best that ever was taken 
 of His Royal Highness. 
 
92 CHESTER HARBIN Q. 
 
 His Highness gave me a ticket to the 
 Highland Society's dinner, an annual jubilee 
 from time immemorial. This was the grand- 
 est affair I ever had the pleasure of witness- 
 ing. Some two hundred of the Highland 
 chiefs and lairds, all in their appropriate 
 costume, were assembled. Every man wore 
 the plaid of his clan. There were five or 
 six of us in black coats : we were placed at 
 the foot of one of the long tables, and had a 
 fine view of the company. Old and young 
 were splendidly dressed, and a gorgeous 
 sight it was. After the regular toasts, such 
 as " The King," " The Koyal Family," " The 
 •Ministers," and so on, volunteer toasts were 
 given. The Duke of, Sussex was the pres- 
 ident, and was addressed as the Earl of In- 
 verness ; the clans considering that title 
 higher than his English one. 
 
 At intervals, I tried to make some con- 
 versation with my black-coated neighbors; 
 but their attention was apparently too much 
 absorbed by what was going on at the other 
 end of the table. Presently I saw the duke's 
 servant coming down to our end of the 
 table, and, approaching me, said, " His 
 Royal Highness will take wine with you." 
 I rose, and His Royal Highness half rose 
 and bowed. Such a mark of distinction 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 93 
 
 was felt by my taciturn neighbors. I found 
 them sociable and very respectful after that. 
 As soon as the dinner was dispatched, the 
 bagpipes were introduced, and the first note 
 started the company to their feet, and nearly 
 the whole assembly joined in the "High- 
 land Fling." Many songs were sung : Miss 
 Payton, afterward Mrs. Wood, sang some 
 Scotch songs from the gallery. It was an 
 exciting scene, and continued till a late 
 hour. Some were " fu'," and all were " unco 
 happy." As the duke retired, he honored 
 me with a shake of his hand. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 January 20, 1824. Set off for Holkham, 
 Norfolk, to paint the portrait of Mr. Coke, 
 — a period of great anxiety. 
 
 January 21. Arrived at Holkham. at 
 ten in the evening. Rang at the door, and 
 was answered by a footman in powder, who 
 announced me to the next servant ; and my 
 name rang through the long hall most aw- 
 fully. One of the head servants then asked 
 me if I would go to my room, or be intro- 
 duced to the family. I chose the former. 
 Next morning I went down to breakfast 
 with trembling steps. As I passed through 
 the long range of splendidly furnished apart- 
 ments, the echo of the shutting doors, and 
 even my own steps in these large rooms, 
 was frightful ; and what rendered my em- 
 barrassment greater was that I had never 
 seen Mr. Coke,' and had to introduce my- 
 self. At length, however, I reached the 
 breakfast room, and was ushered into it. 
 There were but a few persons in the room, 
 and neither Mr. Coke nor Lady Anne were 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 95 
 
 present. They soon came in, and broke the 
 painful silence I was constrained to observe. 
 We soon were seated at table to the number 
 of five and twenty ladies and gentlemen, the 
 latter in their shooting dresses. Here I felt 
 a little awkward, as the table arrangements 
 were very different from any I had seen. 
 In the centre of the room was placed a 
 long table, around which the company were 
 seated; and side-tables, loaded with cold 
 meats and cold game, were resorted to by 
 any one who wished for flesh or fowl. It 
 struck me at first as being a queer sort of 
 hospitality not to be asked to take this or 
 that, but left to help myself or go without. 
 Each calls for coffee, tea, or chocolate, as 
 he fancies, without being asked which he 
 prefers. After breakfast, I joined the shoot- 
 ing party : we set off in terrible array, with 
 guns, dogs, and game - keepers ; the older 
 gentlemen mounted on horseback. In the 
 course of the day, I shot about a dozen in 
 all, — pheasants, partridges, and hares : and 
 was withal excessively fatigued. They never 
 shoot at game at rest. If a hare should 
 stand in fair view within their shot, they 
 would start him and shoot as he ran. In 
 like manner they warn the birds of their 
 danger. At six, we sat down to a sumptuous 
 
96 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 dinner. The very men with whom I had 
 been shooting and conversing freely all day 
 had so changed the " outer man," by throw- 
 ing off their shooting habiliments, and put- 
 ting on their finery, that I hardly recognized 
 a single face at table. Every dish was of 
 silver, gold knives and forks for dessert, 
 and everything else about the table of corre- 
 sponding costliness. The ladies retired about 
 eight ; and the gentlemen, with a few ex- 
 ceptions, gathered around a smaller table, 
 and sat until nine, and then joined the ladies 
 and took coffee. After coffee, some of the 
 company retire to their rooms ; others to 
 side-tables to write letters ; and such as have 
 nothing else to do play whist or chess, or 
 some other games, until ten, when a supper 
 is served up on a side-table, where the com- 
 pany stand, and eat or drink what they 
 wish. After supper, one after another calls 
 for a bedroom candle, and goes to his room. 
 None stop later than eleven o'clock. 
 
 January 23. Began the portrait of Mr. 
 Coke, after which I amused myself by saun- 
 tering about the gallery. I found many 
 excellent paintings, a fine statue gallery, and 
 a splendid library. Mr. Coke is said to 
 have one of the finest manuscript libraries 
 in the kingdom. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 97 
 
 The furniture of this house is in the most 
 extravagant style. Lady Anne showed me 
 the state rooms, bedrooms, etc., which are 
 magnificent. The bed-curtains of one of 
 the beds cost eight guineas a yard ; the rest 
 of the furniture was equally costly. All 
 the principal rooms are hung with tapestry. 
 I had no idea of the wealth of an English 
 gentleman until I came here. Mr. Coke 
 owns seventy thousand acres of productive 
 land. 
 
 Mr. Coke is now, and always has been, an 
 ardent admirer of America. He was the 
 first to propose the recognition of our inde- 
 pendence in the House of Commons. He 
 is seventy-two years old, but retains all the 
 mental vigor of a man of forty. He has, 
 within two years, married a young wife of 
 eighteen ; and has by her a fine son to prop 
 and support his declining years, and to in- 
 herit his large estates. 
 
 Wednesday, January 28. Commenced 
 the portrait of Lady Anson, — a daughter 
 of Mr. Coke, — upon a small scale. We 
 breakfast at ten, lunch at two ; and at six 
 the party assemble in the drawing-room, 
 in full dress, for dinner. Mr. Coke leads 
 the lady of highest rank first ; then follows 
 the highest titled gentleman with Lady 
 
98 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 Anne, and the rest fall in according to rank 
 or seniority. I am a good deal bothered 
 with the titles we have here. " Your lady- 
 ship " and " Your lordship " do not slip 
 readily from my tongue. 
 
 There is great splendor in the dinner ser- 
 vice, as well as in the attendants at table, 
 of whom there are eight or ten in powdered 
 livery as well as two out of livery, — the 
 one, the butler ; the other, a sort of master 
 of ceremonies. 
 
 There is a large bell in one of the towers 
 of the hall, which is rung to announce the 
 hours of breakfasting and dining. After 
 breakfast, each lady goes to her room ; and 
 she enjoys entire freedom as to the disposi- 
 tion of her time during the day. Some 
 order their carriages or horses, and drive or 
 ride around the park. The gentlemen al- 
 ways go out shooting, unless they are pre- 
 vented by bad weather. 
 
 Friday, 30. Finished the portrait of Mr. 
 Coke. The family are highly pleased with 
 it. Began the portrait of Lady Andover's 
 daughter. Mr. Adair, one of our visitors, 
 has been ambassador at Constantinople, — 
 a very pleasant gentleman. 
 
 Mr. Coke is most decidedly American in 
 his feelings : he often says it is the only 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 99 
 
 country where one spark of freedom is kept 
 alive ; and he regrets very much not having 
 gone over at the termination of the revolu- 
 tionary struggle, that he might have seen 
 the brightest character that ever adorned the 
 page of history. 
 
 Friday night, some itinerant jugglers came 
 to the Hall to amuse the family. Their per- 
 formance was indifferent enough ; but it 
 was interesting to see the household col- 
 lected. There were about seventy domes- 
 tics. After the performance, Mr. Coke told 
 the steward to give them a couple of guineas, 
 and send them away. 
 
 February 1. Commenced the portrait 
 of Mr. Blakie, Mr. Coke's steward, on the 
 kit-cat size, at thirty guineas. 
 
 Lady Anson has a most benevolent heart ; 
 she spends much of her time, and a good 
 deal of her money, amongst the poor and 
 destitute of the neighboring village. Mr. 
 Coke has very humanely provided for the 
 servants who have grown gray in his service, 
 by building them neat little cottages near 
 the Hall, with a small piece of ground at- 
 tached for a garden ; and, in some instances, 
 he has given a pension for life. They seem 
 as happy as men can be in this life. They 
 are seen every day about three o'clock walk- 
 
100 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 ing up to the Hall for their dinners. They, 
 with the steward and a few other of the 
 upper servants, dine together as sumptuously 
 as their master. 
 
 London, February 28. "Went to the Ital- 
 ian Opera House to witness the performance 
 of a grand oratorio. Madame Catalani was 
 the principal attraction; the power of her 
 voice far surpasses that of any singer I ever 
 heard before. Besides sacred pieces, which 
 she gave to admiration, she sung " God save 
 the King " and " Rule Britannia ; " and she 
 so riveted my attention that I knew not 
 what I did. I shouted " Rule Britannia," 
 etc., as loud and as loyally as the best Eng- 
 lishman present. There were one hundred 
 and forty performers, vocal and instru- 
 mental. The house is magnificent ; there 
 are four rows of boxes, all hung with red 
 curtains, and splendidly upholstered. 
 
 On Thursday night I received a ticket 
 from the Duke of Sussex to attend a dinner 
 in support of old and indigent Jews, and 
 for the education of the young ; the duke in 
 the chair. There were about two hundred 
 present. After the cloth was removed, and 
 the usual toasts drunk and speeches made, 
 the school of children was introduced to the 
 number of fifty. Each had some specimen 
 
CIIESTEB HARDING. 101 
 
 of his skill in mechanics in his hand, a chair 
 or shoes, etc. One of the little girls, ahout 
 eight years old, and of most interesting ap- 
 pearance, recited a piece of poetry which 
 had been written for the occasion. The 
 lines were full of pathos, and delivered with 
 astonishing force. This little manoeuvre 
 had a most powerful effect upon the com- 
 pany. The duke rose to speak ; but his 
 heart was so touched that he could not give 
 utterance to his thoughts. Tears ran down 
 his cheeks in a flood. He at length regained 
 his self-possession, and spoke very feelingly, 
 which had the effect desired, — it drew 
 tears from the audience, but not such as the 
 duke shed; these were from the purse in- 
 stead of the eye. Twenty -three hundred 
 guineas were collected. 
 
 The Duke of Sussex is a much better 
 speaker than his brother York, whom I 
 heard at the " Theatrical Fund " dinner ; 
 but he is not an eloquent nor a strong- 
 minded man. His goodness of heart, how- 
 ever, makes ample amends for all want of 
 brilliancy. 
 
 Monday, March 15. Went to the House 
 of Lords ; and, through the kindness of the 
 Duke of Sussex, was fortunate enough to 
 get a front seat, on the foot of the throne, 
 
102 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 — a place set apart for the sons of noble- 
 men and foreign ambassadors. The debate, 
 upon the recognition of the independence of 
 South America, was extremely interesting. 
 The Marquis of Lansdowne was the mover 
 of the question, and he supported it most 
 ably and eloquently ; but, as it was a party 
 question, his eloquence was in yain : the mo- 
 tion was lost by a large majority. The house 
 is as uninteresting within as it is without. 
 The custom of seating the lord chancellor 
 on the woolsack is too ridiculous and bar- 
 barous for the present stage of civilization. 
 There are three sacks, about ten feet in 
 length, two feet high, and perhaps four feet 
 wide, so put together as to form three sides 
 of a square ; the lord chancellor sits on the 
 centre sack, the clerks on the others. The 
 wigs which the lords wear are still less 
 dignified in their appearance. 
 
 to c. M. H. 
 
 London, March, 1824. 
 . . . This is to me a most interesting 
 period as you will readily imagine, when I 
 tell you that to-morrow is the day for send- 
 ing my portraits for exhibition. You know, 
 already, the pictures I have painted for that 
 purpose, namely, the duke, Coke, Perkins, 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 103 
 
 Hunter, Rush, and Owen, some of which I 
 intend to send to the new Exhibition in 
 Pall Mall, which opens, for the first time 
 this season, under the patronage of the Duke 
 of Sussex. As many of my sitters have sat 
 frequently to different artists, and have at 
 different times been exhibited, I may fairly 
 calculate upon a little jealousy and a great 
 deal of severe criticism from the artists 
 themselves, or their friendly or hireling crit- 
 ics. There is to be a likeness of the duke 
 by Lonsdale, a full length in his Coronation 
 Robes, in the new Exhibition, which will 
 bring me in direct contact with him : at the 
 same time it will give him the advantage, 
 " as fine feathers make fine birds." Mr. 
 Coke has been painted by Sir Thomas Law- 
 rence, as well as by Lonsdale and a score 
 of other painters. But why borrow trouble 
 or be anxious ? Why tease myself about 
 what is out of my control? Ought I in rea- 
 son to expect to have my pictures stand the 
 comparison with these old practitioners ? 
 Whatever I may aim at ultimately, I should 
 deceive myself did I for an instant suppose 
 my pictures equal to those of the first artists 
 in London. 
 
 Saturday, April 10. Breakfasted with 
 
104 CHESTER HAEDING. 
 
 Mr. Owen. He is very confident of success 
 in his attempts at universal reform. He is 
 plain in his appearance, and simple in his 
 manners, but strong in argument. 
 
 Monday, April 19. "Went with Mr. 
 Neale and Mr. Humphries to Greenwich 
 Fair, about six miles from town. We got 
 into a boat at Westminster Bridge and had 
 a most charming sail down the Thames. 
 Some thousands of town and country folks 
 were assembled, and enjoying themselves in 
 every variety of way. In addition to the 
 Smithfield amusements, they have a singular 
 mode of amusing themselves by rolling down 
 a very steep and grassy hill : boys and girls 
 are seen rolling and tumbling together in 
 every direction and position. 
 
 The grand Hospital for Decayed Seamen 
 is situated here. The building itself is ex- 
 tremely beautiful, and the effect is enhanced 
 by the river which washes one side of the 
 grand area ; the surrounding landscape, har- 
 monizing so well with the whole, renders 
 the scene enchanting. It is delightful, too, 
 to know that two thousand invalids are shar- 
 ing a nation's gratitude. One sees content- 
 ment reigning in the faces of hundreds who 
 are deprived of half their limbs. They are 
 well-fed and well-clad, in a half-military uni- 
 form. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 105 
 
 Monday, .April 26. Commenced the por- 
 trait of Mr. Henry Anson. Delightful 
 weather. Sunday called with Hunter upon 
 the Duke of Sussex. He was very polite 
 and kind. Mr. Hunter and I took a long 
 walk, and thought and talked about our 
 country; compared it to England: the re- 
 sult was favorable to the land of our birth. 
 In the course of our rambling, we got into 
 a boat, and floated with the tide from the 
 Waterloo Bridge to the Iron Bridge. On 
 the Thames we had a most beautiful view 
 of the city. The sun was just setting, but 
 still shone bright upon St. Paul's stupendous 
 dome, and some other prominent points of 
 the city, such as Somerset House, the Adel- 
 phi, etc. ; and, as we floated along under 
 the several bridges, which never look so 
 strikingly grand as when seen from beneath, 
 we concluded it would be many years before 
 our country could boast such monuments of 
 art. In viewing Waterloo Bridge, we were 
 led to speak of the event which this stupen- 
 dous work perpetuates ; from that, to the 
 captivity of Napoleon ; of the indelible stain 
 that event has cast upon the great conqueror 
 of the age, — what magnanimity he had it 
 in his power to show by treating this once 
 powerful but now fallen foe like a Christian, 
 
106 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 instead of dooming him to waste his life in 
 exile like a pirate. 
 
 Thursday, April 29. Dined with Mr. 
 Everett ; met Mr. and Mrs. Appleton and 
 others ; a pleasant party. 
 
 Spring is now opening, and all nature 
 seems to smile again ; fruit - trees in full 
 blossom. How delightful to the eye, after 
 being shut up in fog and smoke for six 
 months, to see the green fields once more 
 displaying their charms ! But spring ap- 
 proaches so gradually here that one does 
 not feel that pleasure which one feels in the 
 Northern States of America, where the tran- 
 sition from snow to verdure is so quick, that, 
 before one can say spring approaches, it is 
 already arrived. How delightful to meet 
 old and intimate friends in a foreign land ! 
 Dr. Robbins and wife and Miss Pickard, 
 who have just arrived, make me forget that 
 I am in a strange country. 
 
 Saturday, May 1. Began the portrait of 
 
 the Rev. , recommended by Leslie. He 
 
 is a country clergyman; and, from his Jew- 
 ing disposition, I should judge he had more 
 taste in tithes than pictures. He spent at 
 least one hour of his precious life in a fruit- 
 less attempt to lower my price. 
 
 I feel myself improving in every picture 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 107 
 
 I paint. Nine tenths of the pictures that are 
 painted in London are execrably bad. 
 
 Monday, May 3. Somerset House opened 
 this day. This is a grand display altogether. 
 Portraiture is the branch of art in which 
 the English School stands preeminent. Sir 
 Thomas Lawrence, Jackson, Sh'ee, Phillips, 
 Sir William Beechy, and one or two others, 
 stand high ; but Sir Thomas towers above 
 them all. In the small cabinet pictures, 
 after Wilkie, Leslie stands first. His pic- 
 ture of Sancho Panza in the apartment 
 of the duchess is a beautifully told story, 
 and commands great admiration. He de- 
 voted six months of hard study to it, and 
 it was time well spent. Newton has a very 
 clever picture of the " Patient in spite of 
 Himself," which evinces more talent than in- 
 dustry in the author. He affects a contempt 
 for the minutiae of his pictures, and, instead 
 of giving them an agreeable finish, leaves 
 them undetermined in the outline, and un- 
 finished in effect. My own portraits do not 
 look as well as I thought they would : they 
 want the broad effect so necessary in this 
 exhibition. On going into the room, I 
 wished there was to be another exhibition 
 immediately, that I might shun the defects 
 in my next that I saw so plainly in these. 
 
108 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 The greatest advantage I shall derive from 
 this exhibition is the opportunity of compar- 
 ing myself with others. It was sickening, 
 on first going into the room, to see some of 
 my pictures so badly placed ; but, on a little 
 reflection, I thought I was placed as well as 
 I deserve. 
 
 TO S. l?. L.- 
 London, May 10, 1824. 
 This is a lovely season, all the gayety of 
 the kingdom is now in full bloom ; the parks ■ 
 and gardens are green and inviting. It is 
 one of the most delightful walks in the world 
 to go into Hyde Park and Kensington Gar- 
 dens at this time of year. It is the fashion 
 here to go to the Park every day at five or 
 six o'clock and make as great a show as pos- 
 sible. Those who keep their carriages never 
 fail of displaying them, and those who do 
 not, figure as pedestrians only. It is about 
 a mile from one side of the Park to the 
 other, — I mean the part which is most fre- 
 quented. There is a graveled way for the 
 carriages and horses, by the side of which 
 is a beautiful hard gravel walk for those on 
 foot, divided from that for the carriages by 
 a railing. There are from one to two thou- 
 sand elegant carriages at the same time, in 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 109 
 
 this fashionable procession, in fine weather, 
 and from fifty to a hundred thousand peo- 
 ple of all countries, ages, sexes, and colors, 
 promenading the foot -walk, or sauntering 
 across the green. But upon retiring from 
 this show to my own room and to serious re- 
 flection, I am always struck with the folly 
 of this gay rabble, and it never fails to 
 create a longing for home and those happy 
 scenes in domestic life, which the world of 
 fashion are strangers to. 
 
 I go every day to the different galleries 
 and am both delighted and instructed. My 
 own pictures in Somerset House are not in 
 a favorable light, but that I expected. My 
 friends, Leslie and others, say they are en- 
 titled to better places, which is some con- 
 solation. 
 
 ... I do not doubt if I were to remain 
 here I could establish a permanent character 
 as a painter, and here, of all places in the 
 world, is the artist best paid for his labors. 
 But, if I could in five years rise to be Pres- 
 ident of the British Academy with a " Sir " 
 tacked upon my name, I would not forego 
 the pleasure of living in America. 
 
 May 13. Obtained a ticket of admission 
 to the Marquis of Stafford's collection, which 
 
110 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 admits me every Wednesday of this and 
 next month. A fine collection, containing 
 many of the old masters. 
 
 Monday, May 17. In the evening, went 
 to the opera ; saw a part of an Italian opera, 
 and an English afterpiece. In the course 
 of the evening Madame Catalani sung three 
 songs, which were delightful, and of course 
 were encored. The entrance to the house 
 is in the Haymarket ; and, an hour before 
 the doors opened, the rush was so great that 
 I really thought my life in danger, women 
 screaming, men swearing and fighting. My 
 friend Barnahy and I took our seats in the 
 pit ; and, as we were waiting for the per- 
 formance to begin, we were standing upon 
 the benches, when an insolent fellow crowded 
 between us, or rather crowded the captain 
 out of his seat. As the captain was a small 
 man, I took the liberty of hoisting the in- 
 truder out pretty roughly. Nothing but my 
 size saved me from a row. 
 
 Thursday, 20. Dined with Mr. Bowker. 
 Met several gentlemen of the bar ; also Mr. 
 Cox, a very amusing poet ; heard many 
 pleasing anecdotes. Before dinner went to 
 see the grand display of gentry and nobil- 
 ity. This was the grand drawing-room of 
 the palace of St. James. A line of carriages 
 
CHESTER HARDING. Ill 
 
 stretched from the foot of St. James Street 
 to the top of Bond Street, all in their grand- 
 est trappings. I crowded my way, or rather 
 was forced down by the current, to the bot- 
 tom of St. James, where I stood for a half 
 hour looking on like the rest of the aston- 
 ished multitude. The courtiers would in 
 the most condescending manner allow the 
 crowd to see them through the windows of 
 their carriages, whilst their faces seemed to 
 express the greatest contempt for the ple- 
 beian rabble. I felt a good deal vexed, but 
 relieved myself, as soon as the crowd al- 
 lowed me to withdraw from a place where 
 I should have been ashamed to have been 
 seen by any of my acquaintances. 
 
 June 5. A call from Mr. Coke, the Duke 
 of Norfolk, and General Fitzroy. This at- 
 tention on the part of Mr. Coke is most 
 gratifying. 
 
 to c. M. H. 
 . London, June 7, 1824. 
 
 Dear Wife, — The long-looked-f or letter 
 has at last reached me ; indeed, I had begun 
 to be very impatient. You will hardly be- 
 lieve me when I tell you that when I opened 
 your letter and saw the token of affection 
 from little Caroline, my heart grew very 
 
112 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 restless, and I have no doubt my face was 
 colorless for a moment. I don't know how 
 it is, but I never open a letter from home 
 without a slight emotion of the heart ; nor 
 is that emotion quieted until I read the 
 cheerful words, " We are all well." . . . 
 
 You are anxious, no doubt, to know how 
 I am getting on in pecuniary matters. I 
 can tell you that it costs me full twice the 
 sum to live here that I had calculated on, 
 but so long as I can keep the original stock 
 (of money) whole I feel no uneasiness on 
 that score. I have some portraits all the 
 while on hand, and were I to attend more 
 to the shop and less to the exhibitions, I 
 doubt not but I could find as much business 
 as I could do. But as money-making was 
 not the object of my visit, so long as I can 
 see my way clear, I shall not sacrifice the 
 advantages this metropolis affords for the 
 accumulation of a little trash that at pres- 
 ent I do not stand in need of. I mean the 
 little I could accumulate in the short time 
 I shall stay in this country would be trash 
 compared with the stock of mental riches 
 that, with a moderate share of industry, I 
 might treasure up. . . . 
 
 Yesterday I, with a friend, got on a coach 
 and went to Richmond, a place about seven 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 113 
 
 miles from here, which has long been cele- 
 brated for its beauty of scenery. But, upon 
 my soul, I could not find anything particu- 
 lar to admire but the cultivation and the 
 appearances of comfort in the dwellings, as 
 we walked about them. You are now living 
 in a place a thousand times more beautiful 
 (Northampton, Mass.), and as to grandeur of 
 scenery there is no comparison. But art 
 has made up the deficiencies of nature. Cul- 
 tivation is brought to a very great degree of 
 perfection here. It will be many years be- 
 fore we can vie with this country in that 
 particular, and I must say it will be a long 
 time before I shall wish to do so. This 
 show is at the expense of nine tenths of the 
 inhabitants, perhaps ninety-nine hundredths. 
 Yet if contentment be riches, the lower 
 order of peasantry are rich. I never saw 
 any wrangling in all the various mobs which 
 I have seen collected on different occasions- 
 There seems to be in these lower orders a 
 social and friendly disposition, which I am 
 sorry to say does not exist in our country. 
 There, on such days as an Election or Gen- 
 eral Review, the lower classes of society con- 
 sider themselves licensed to get drunk, and 
 render themselves as beastly as possible ; 
 and I hardly remember an instance of a holi- 
 
114 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 day of the kind to pass over, without a fight 
 and sometimes a dozen of them. I have 
 not, while I have been in this country, seen 
 anything in the streets, at the fairs, or any 
 other place of amusement for the peasantry, 
 that looked like ill-will toward each other. 
 If I, in passing the crowd in the streets, hap- 
 pen to run against a boy, or tread upon his 
 foot (which you know could not be a gentle 
 pressure), he directly pulls off his hat and 
 begs pardon, or at least makes no complaint. 
 Not so at home. If one happens to en- 
 croach upon the rights of one of our repub- 
 lican boys in any degree, he lets fly a volley 
 of mud rockets at you, and damns your eyes 
 up and down. 
 
 Tell Caroline that she is a good little girl 
 for thus remembering her father, and that 
 I thank her for the little lock she sent me. 
 Assure the rest of the little ones that they 
 are not forgotten by me. Give my kind re- 
 gards to all my friends, and believe me 
 Your affectionate husband, 
 
 C. Harding. 
 
 Monday, June 14. Went with Mr. Ever- 
 ett and family to Epsom Races. This was a 
 grand affair ; great crowd of vehicles of all 
 sorts from a barouche down to a donkey- 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 115 
 
 cart. We had our dinner with us, as is the 
 custom with all, and a most sumptuous one 
 it was, — cold turkeys, chickens, champagne, 
 etc. 
 
 Mr. Coke was at Somerset House, looking 
 about without a catalogue, and pronounced 
 the portrait of the Duke of Devonshire, by 
 Sir Thomas Lawrence, and the portrait of 
 Mr. Owen, by myself, to be the best in the 
 room, — so says Lady Anson. This pleased 
 me much ; at the same time I knew he was 
 not correct ; but such is the insatiable de- 
 sire that man has for distinction, that he is 
 willing to give ear to the most extravagant 
 flattery, and will try hard to reconcile it to 
 himself, however absurd it may be. 
 
 Sunday, June 20. Attended divine ser- 
 vice at Westminster Abbey. The sermon 
 may have been well or ill, it was all the same 
 to me ; my mind was completely absorbed 
 in matters foreign to religious instruction. 
 Yet I never in my life felt so sensibly the 
 true sublimity of religion as I did while 
 gazing on this wondrous pile. The organ 
 fills one with devotional feelings ; and it is 
 impossible to look at the monuments and 
 grandeur of architecture that surround one, 
 without an elevation of feeling which bids 
 earthly thoughts stand aside. 
 
116 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 Sunday, June 27. Yet in doubt, whether 
 it is my duty to stay another year in this 
 country, or go home to my family and 
 friends. Life is short at best: then why 
 not spend it in a way that will be most con- 
 ducive to our happiness while here ? I have 
 duties to perform towards my wife and four 
 helpless children : ought I not, then, to live 
 with them, and discharge those duties? 
 These and the like thoughts are constantly 
 haunting my mind. But then, I have made 
 choice of a profession in which I am most 
 anxious and determined to excel. The charm 
 of distinction is dazzling my eyes continu- 
 ally. I have already excited a warm inter- 
 est with many friends in my behalf : to fail, 
 therefore, would be painful beyond descrip- 
 tion. To return to Boston, and receive a cold 
 welcome where I have been so warmly pa- 
 tronized would be a sore wound to my pride 
 and ice to my ambition. Yet it is but fair to 
 count upon this in some degree. Public 
 favors and opinion are capricious. There was 
 something novel, perhaps, in my history that 
 contributed more to my unheard-of success 
 than any merit I possessed as a painter. The 
 fact of a man's coming from the backwoods 
 of America, entirely uneducated, to paint 
 even a tolerable portrait, was enough to 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 117 
 
 excite some little interest. That source of 
 interest will be cut off on my return. I 
 shall be judged of as one having had all the 
 advantages of the best schools of art in 
 Europe ; and the probability is, that more 
 will be expected of me than is in the power 
 of almost any man to perform. 
 
 to s. F. L. 
 
 London, July 17, 1824 
 . . . Have you heard much of Matthews ? 
 He has had a wonderful run. His Tour to 
 America has brought crowded houses in all 
 kinds of weather, but such a representation 
 is, I am inclined to think, very prejudicial 
 to us. The true character of our nation is 
 but very little known here by, at least, nine 
 tenths of the theatre - going people ; conse- 
 quently they are impressed with the notion 
 that we are, as a nation, as truly represented 
 by this buffoonery, as Monsieur Tonson, or 
 any other of Matthews' favorite characters. 
 He has introduced a Militia Review, at 
 which there does not appear to be a great 
 supply of arms, but pitch-forks, umbrellas, 
 fishing-rods, etc., make up the deficiencies. 
 Then the commanding officer reads the words 
 of command, and so on, making the thing 
 truly remarkable. This is well enough as a 
 
118 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 burlesque, but that the people should take 
 this for the true picture of our Nation's Bul- 
 wark is, to me, quite ridiculous. A gentle- 
 man was asking me, the other day, many- 
 questions relating to America, and seemed 
 well disposed toward us, but he said he 
 thought we ought to have some military 
 system, in order to defend ourselves against 
 invasion. I replied that we had a military 
 system. " What," he said laughingly, " your 
 broomstick and umbrella men ? " Yes, I 
 told him, and that these broomstick and um- 
 brella men had beaten the flower of the 
 British army, twelve to one against them. 
 (I here mentioned the affair at New Or- 
 leans.) This, I observed, was a home thrust 
 to him, but it came in so opportunely, that, 
 excited as I was at that moment, I believe 
 it would have come out had I known that 
 it would have cost me this gentleman's good- 
 will, altogether. 
 
 Saturday, July 31. Introduced to Irving, 
 by Leslie. He is very pleasing in his man- 
 ners ; talks with great volubility, at the 
 same time has a little hesitation, or want of 
 fluency, in conversation. 
 
 Called upon the Duke of Sussex. He 
 recommends to me to send for my wife, and 
 make England my home. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 119 
 
 August 3. Called upon the Duke of 
 Sussex, and got a letter to the Duke of 
 Hamilton. On the 4th, gave up my rooms, 
 and set off for Scotland. Arrived here 
 (York) at half past nine, the 9th. It is 
 with great difficulty I can understand the 
 Yorkshire dialect. The cathedral here is 
 sublime. I went to the top of the grand 
 tower, which measures sixty -five feet square 
 on the top, and affords one of the finest 
 views of high cultivation that I ever saw. 
 The cathedral is five hundred and twenty 
 feet long. The town of York is a walled 
 city : it has four public entrances through 
 strong gates. Left York on Friday, at ten. 
 The country is delightful. From London 
 to York, and, indeed, in every other direc- 
 tion from London, the coachmen are fat 
 and red-faced, answering faithfully the de- 
 scription given by Irving. They will cer- 
 tainly weigh from two hundred and fifty to 
 three hundred pounds each ; but, after leav- 
 ing York for Scotland, the likeness is lost. 
 They are like the coachmen of London, com- 
 monly called jarvies, — dirty, and lean as 
 greyhounds. The reason is, probably, that 
 they have to take care of their own horses, 
 as they drive only one stage. 
 
 Arrived in Glasgow at five on Sunday 
 morning, August 8th. 
 
120 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 Tuesday, August 10. "Walked about Glas- 
 gow with my friend Pattison. Saw the 
 Museum, the High-Church Cathedral, and 
 many other objects of interest. This town 
 is almost exclusively a manufacturing town, 
 — glass and cotton goods, but principally 
 the latter. 
 
 Wednesday, Augustll. Got into a coach 
 with Pattison, and set off for New Lanark, 
 the seat of Mr. Owen's great experiment. 
 We arrived at Lanark about noon, where 
 all was gayety. It was the annual fair. We 
 dined with Mr. Owen at six o'clock. He 
 lives in good style, keeps open house to 
 those who visit his establishment, and every- 
 thing is comfortable about him. The family 
 is very interesting. 
 
 Thursday, August 12. Went down to the 
 new village and through all the different 
 mills. Heard the classes at their recita- 
 tions ; little boys and girls, from three to 
 five, answering questions in geography. Mr. 
 Owen asked a little creature, not more than 
 four years old, what country I lived in, 
 telling him the Atlantic divided my country 
 from this. He first said the Brazils, then 
 Columbia, then North America. The most 
 perfect order prevails in every department 
 of the establishment. The children are as 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 121 
 
 happy at their lessons as they are at their 
 play. Everything indicates contentment. 
 The oldest class of boys is composed of those 
 ten years old and under. They study nat- 
 ural history, botany, mineralogy, mathemat- 
 ics, and music. Many of them perform 
 well on different instruments : they dance 
 four sets of cotillons at once ; their dancing 
 would not disgrace a London drawing-room. 
 I never witnessed a more interesting sight 
 than this. 
 
 To see children taken from the lowest 
 dregs of society, and taught to enjoy all the 
 blessings of refined life, and at an expense 
 entirely within their own reach, is to every 
 feeling mind a treat of the highest order. 
 The parents of these children, and all above 
 ten years old, work in the mills eight hours 
 each day. Their pay enables them to buy 
 every comfort that nature requires. There 
 is a store here containing everything they 
 want to eat, drink, or wear. The goods are 
 laid in at the lowest rate, and cost and 
 charges are all that is required for them. 
 By this means, the goods are sold at thirty 
 per cent, lower rate than they would be 
 otherwise. If, after the deduction of all the 
 expenses of the establishment, there should 
 be any money remaining, it is appropriated 
 
122 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 to the general good, such as buying medi- 
 cines, paying physicians, etc. 
 
 The village is beautifully situated on the 
 Clyde, with rugged and romantic scenery 
 about it. The houses are built of stone; 
 generally three, and sometimes four, stories 
 high, with every convenience possible for 
 cooking, etc. 
 
 Saturday; August 14. Went to the Falls 
 of the Clyde, about two miles above New Lan- 
 ark. The water falls about thirty feet per- 
 pendicularly, with beautiful scenery around. 
 About a mile from Lanark on the Court- 
 land Craigs, a place famous for warlocks 
 and witches in olden times, is the cave where 
 Wallace hid himself. 
 
 There is at this time here a Mr. Flower 
 from Indiana, who is authorized by Mr. 
 Rapp of New Harmony to sell his establish- 
 ment. Mr. Owen seems too credulous. Mr. 
 Flower draws a " long bow," now and then ; 
 and has so far worked upon Mr. Owen as to 
 persuade him to go out and see the place. 
 Mr. Flower is all the time representing In- 
 diana as the most important State in the 
 Union. This I can see through readily 
 enough, as he has a large estate adjoining 
 New Harmony, which would be much im- 
 proved by such a settlement as Mr. Owen 
 
CHESTER BABBING. 123 
 
 would probably make. I advise Mr. Owen 
 to try his plans in Massachusetts, or some 
 other of the old States, where there is a 
 more crowded population as well as a greater 
 portion of intellect. But Mr. Flower will 
 succeed, I fear. 
 
 Monday. Set off for Hamilton. Stayed 
 at the inn. Tuesday morning, sent my let- 
 ter with my address to the palace ; but it 
 was soon returned, with direction from the 
 footman that " all letters to his Grace 
 must come through the post-office." This, 
 I afterwards learned, was to avoid refusing, 
 more directly, admittance to the gallery, as 
 there were so many applications that the 
 family were constantly annoyed. I took 
 the letter, and went to the palace with the 
 resolve to see his Grace, if possible. After 
 waiting half an hour, the duke came out 
 from the breakfast-table, and very politely 
 asked me into the breakfast-room, and in- 
 vited me to take breakfast ; but I declined 
 the honor, and made my business known to 
 him, which was to request the duke to sit 
 for a picture for the Duke of Sussex. He 
 readily complied, and asked me to send for 
 my portmanteau, and take up my residence 
 with him. 
 
 I soon commenced the portrait. The day 
 
124 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 passed off very happily in looking at the pic- 
 tures of the old masters, of which here are 
 hundreds. Five o'clock came, and I began 
 to dress for dinner. Felt rather aguish from 
 fear, and wished the ordeal of dinner well 
 over. Six o'clock came at last, and I was 
 ushered into the dining-room. In a short 
 time I began to realize that iny titled com- 
 panions were very like other people ; and 
 in a short time more, my nerves became 
 steady, though I could not entirely refrain 
 from moving- my knife and fork a little, 
 or playing with my bread, or in some 
 other awkward way betraying my want of 
 ease. There was a display of great mag- 
 nificence ; servants all in livery, splendid 
 plate. The duchess and her daughter re- 
 tired early ; and, about nine, the gentlemen 
 followed them. The duchess made tea with 
 her own fair hand, and was, besides, very 
 agreeable. At half past eleven, I set off for 
 bed ; and, on my way, thanked my stars 
 that it was all over, and matters stood no 
 worse. 
 
 The palace is two hundred and sixty-five 
 feet long by two hundred broad. The pic- 
 ture gallery is a hundred and thirty-five 
 long, full of old cabinets and other curious 
 furniture. I am obliged to own to myself 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 125 
 
 that this style of living is very charming : 
 everything around one savors strongly of 
 title, wealth, and antiquity. We breakfast 
 at ten, lunch at two, and dine at six. The 
 duchess is pretty, witty, and sociable. Lord 
 Archibald Hamilton is staying here at this 
 time, and is a very clever man. I think I 
 shall succeed very well. All the household 
 servants have been in to look at the picture, 
 and say it could not be more like. As I 
 walk about the grounds, the laborers, old 
 and young, lift their hats as I pass them. 
 This respect and reverence sit but ill on me, 
 who have been all tbe early part of life in 
 as humble a sphere as those who pay it. 
 What freak of fortune is this which has , 
 raised me from the hut in my native wilds 
 to the table of a duke of the realm of Great 
 Britain ! By another freak, I may be sent 
 back to the hovel again, but not to enjoy 
 those innocent pleasures that were mixed 
 with the toils of boyhood. 
 
 Sunday. Walked to Bothwell Brig ; then 
 to Bothwell Castle. The gardener showed 
 me the gardens and hot-houses, and the 
 grounds, that are laid off most beautifully. 
 We left this fertile spot for one calculated 
 to awaken feelings of no ordinary nature. 
 As we bent our course to the castle, we sud- 
 
126 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 denly came into a full view of it, at about 
 half a mile's distance from it, up the Clyde. 
 It is strikingly beautiful as seen from this 
 point. It stands upon a high bank, which 
 has a frightful descent to the river below. 
 One side of the castle is in tolerably good 
 repair or preservation, but almost overgrown 
 with ivy. The sun was bright, and there 
 was not a breath to disturb the solemn si- 
 lence that prevailed amidst these relics of 
 ancient grandeur. One side of the castle 
 has fallen to the ground ; and large trees, 
 at least a foot through, are growing on the 
 heavy masses of stone, that were too strongly 
 cemented to be broken. Larch-trees, two 
 feet through, are now standing where the 
 principal breach was made, like mighty con- 
 querors viewing their fallen foe. The wall 
 is about six feet thick, built of rough stone ; 
 and, wherever there are any crevices in it, 
 vegetation is seen shooting forth. One who 
 has not visited these or like ruins can form 
 no idea of their sublimity. I sat down upon 
 one of the stones that were formerly a part 
 of this once impregnable fortress, and calmly 
 viewed the surrounding walls. I thought of 
 the thousands who had died in their de- 
 fense : the same sun shone on them that 
 now shines on me. They were as full of 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 127 
 
 * 
 
 ambition as I am, and thought as little of 
 this generation as I do of those yet unborn ; 
 and where are they now ? 
 
 There is a finely built, showy, modern 
 house standing within sight of these ruins ; 
 but it is only a dull reality : there is none of 
 the poetry of association to make one pause 
 to look at it a second time. 
 
 Sunday night. After dinner, took leave 
 of the family. The duke urged me to stay 
 a few days longer. The duchess wished me 
 every success, and Lord Archibald pressed 
 me to call on him in London. The duke 
 said if it was at any time in his power to 
 serve me, he should be most happy to do so. 
 He ordered a portrait o'f his Royal High- 
 ness, the Duke of Sussex. He advised me 
 not to think of returning to my own coun- 
 try for the present. Thus ended a visit of 
 ten days that I shall long remember with 
 delight and gratitude, but no honor which 
 a royal duke or any one else in this country 
 can confer upon me will ever make me feel 
 that pleasure which the remembrance of 
 the kindness of the people of Boston has 
 done. 
 
 Monday. Left the palace for Glasgow at 
 nine o'clock. 
 
 Tuesday morning. Set off with Pattison 
 
128 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 and a small party of ladies for the High- 
 lands : we crossed overland from Helens- 
 burgh to Loch Lomond, a distance of eight 
 or nine miles. We got in sight of the loch 
 about three o'clock; and, after taking our 
 tea, we set off in a small row-boat for Ben 
 Lomond, a distance of five miles. The day- 
 was fine. I wrote on the loch, in my pocket 
 memorandum-book, " In the middle of the 
 loch, just as the sun is gilding the highest 
 peaks of Ben Lomond. How heavenly the 
 scene ! The red clouds behind Ben Lomond 
 look like fairyland, only more beautiful : 
 all is still as the grave, save the plashing of 
 the oars ; the high mountains on either side 
 are reflected in the crystal waters ; the sun 
 has just bid adieu to the highest rock of the 
 mountain : no scene on earth can be more 
 enchanting." The loch is about four miles 
 wide on an average, and very pure, cold 
 water. We landed just at twilight, and en- 
 tered a dirty Highland hut, called an inn, 
 at the foot of Ben Lomond. Had my sup- 
 per, and went to bed, but not to sleep ; hor- 
 rible beds, dirty sheets, and a very small 
 room for two of us. We rose early, got a 
 little breakfast, such as it was ; and then 
 five of us, Mr. P., Miss P., Miss Monteith, 
 Miss Park, and myself, set off for the top of 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 129 
 
 the mountain. The mountain is between 
 three and four thousand feet above the loch : 
 the manner in which we were obliged to 
 wind our way up made a distance of about 
 six miles to the top. The day proved fine, 
 though we were occasionally enveloped in 
 clouds that were scudding along the side of 
 the hill. At last we reached the top, which 
 was far above any clouds that were flying. 
 What a singular sensation was produced by 
 looking down upon the clouds ! We amused 
 ourselves with throwing down large stones. 
 The hundred mountains in view, the lights 
 and shades, the blue mist, and the most pic- 
 turesque outline that can be formed, made 
 the scene as heavenly as anything earthly 
 can be. 
 
 We stayed on the hill an hour or two, and 
 then descended. After a bad dinner, got 
 on to a steamboat, and steamed down the 
 loch. On our way to Dumbarton, we passed 
 the house where Smollett was born. It 
 stands on the beautiful river Severn, which 
 is the outlet of the loch. The house is small 
 and of no interest, except as having been 
 the birthplace of this great man. Just op- 
 posite stands a small but neat monument 
 to his memory. We arrived just before 
 sunset at Dumbarton Castle ; and, in order 
 
130 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 to see it, concluded to stay all night. The 
 castle is kept by a governor and a few sol- 
 diers. It is said to be a miniature of Gib- 
 raltar : it is a solid mass of rock ; on the 
 top is a spring of pure water. From it we 
 had a charming view of the Clyde, both up 
 and down. 
 
 Left Glasgow, Monday, August 30, for 
 Stirling ; went a part of the way in a canal- 
 boat. Reached Stirling at four o'clock ; 
 very clear, fine weather. Went direct from 
 the coach to the top of the castle, which 
 affords one of the richest views I ever saw, 
 except that from the top of Mount Holyoke, 
 in Northampton. The Frith of Forth winds 
 through a very fertile valley. The castle 
 stands upon a rock one hundred and ninety 
 feet above tide-water, and is in good repair, 
 well garrisoned, with guns mounted. It 
 looks to me impregnable. 
 
 Left at six next morning for Edinburgh, 
 in a steamboat ; passed through a rich 
 country. Arrived at the Black Bull at one 
 o'clock. This is a splendid town of palaces, 
 all of stone, and from five to ten stories 
 high. Went through the castle of Edin- 
 burgh. Saw the crown of the Scottish 
 kings : it is shown by lamplight, and seen 
 through a strong iron cage such as lions and 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 131 
 
 tigers are generally exhibited in. The cas- 
 tle is not unlike that at Stirling, strongly- 
 garrisoned. Went to see the new Bride- 
 well ; saw some poor condemned wretches 
 at work on the tread-mill. Went to Holy- 
 rood House. This is a splendid palace : the 
 greater part of it is in perfect repair ; the 
 chapel is in beautiful ruin. In the centre of 
 the chapel is the burying-ground of the 
 Scotch nobility. 
 
 Thursday, September 2. Called upon 
 Blackwood, and found him very civil. He 
 said it was singular that Leslie, Newton, and 
 myself should appear to him so soon after 
 the article in his magazine giving so mi- 
 nutely the characteristics of each. 
 
 At four o'clock, left Edinburgh for Glas- 
 gow. 
 
 Sunday, September 5. Spent the day at 
 Dunoon, a place opposite Gourock. In the 
 course of the day, we took a boat, and 
 rowed up the "Holy Loch," a beautiful 
 sheet of water, surrounded on three sides 
 by high and steep hills. At the foot of one 
 of these stands the vault of the family of 
 Argyll. It is situated in the centre of an 
 old churchyard, with two platforms, about 
 ten feet wide and two feet high, on which 
 the coffins of many generations of the Ai- 
 
132 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 gyll family lie. Some of the bodies are em- 
 balmed. The coffins are richly decorated 
 with the arms of the family. I sat down 
 upon one of these coffins, and could not help 
 comparing the ashes that slept within with 
 those of his vassals that lay unheeded in the 
 yard without. The one was now as motion- 
 less as the other ; the one was now as power- 
 less as the other ; the same grave had opened 
 for both, and yet how different their lots in 
 this world ! There was something awfully 
 solemn in this tabernacle of the dead. The 
 faint light from one small window made 
 even my companions look like inhabitants of 
 the place : we were glad to return to the 
 cheerful light of day. 
 
 Monday I returned to Glasgow. 
 
 Saturday, September 11. A call from 
 J. S. Knowles and Macready. 
 
 Saturday, September 18. We went over 
 the grounds of the Duke of Argyll. Saw 
 a great many cypress and yew trees, two of 
 the former measuring eighteen feet in cir- 
 cumference. 
 
 Monday, September 20. Returning this 
 morning from the Athenaeum, I met a 
 respectable merchant, and asked, " What 
 news ? " as carelessly as one asks " Are all 
 well at home ? " He replied, " No news, no 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 133 
 
 news at all. I have been looking through 
 the ' Courier,' and find nothing." — " But," 
 said I, " did you not notice the death of 
 the two monarchs, Louis XVIII. and Itur- 
 bide ? " — " Oh ! yes, I saw that ; but it will 
 have no e*ffect at all upon trade." This is 
 a fair specimen of the trading class of this 
 great and populous city. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Wednesday, October 6. Made up my 
 mind to leave the city, and consequently 
 settled with the landlady ; received pay for 
 my labors, and took an affectionate farewell 
 of my friends. I got on to a steamboat at 
 ten o'clock, and sailed for Belfast, Ireland. 
 This is a fine town, containing about fifty 
 thousand inhabitants. Mr. Spurr, one of 
 my fellow-travelers, agreed to go on to Dub- 
 lin with me ; so we set off for that place in 
 high spirits. We passed through many very 
 neat villages and towns, much more so than 
 the like towns in England or Scotland ; 
 but they say this is the gem of the Emerald 
 Isle. The scenery in some parts is very fine. 
 
 We traveled over a great deal of the peat 
 or turf country. We passed by the Mar- 
 quis of Cunningham's seat, on the Boyne. 
 The high cultivation, and the beautiful little 
 fall in the river, make this spot most envia- 
 ble. The river is about the size of the Deer- 
 field River. At seven o'clock, we arrived in 
 the great city of Dublin. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 135 
 
 Saturday morning it set in to rain, and 
 continued to rain and blow a hurricane until 
 Wednesday. I spent the greater part of the 
 day in calling upon the artists of Dublin. I 
 had a letter to Mr. Comerford, a protege of 
 Mr. Stuart, who is the principal artist (a 
 miniature painter) in Ireland. 
 
 Tuesday, October 12. Still a most dread- 
 ful storm ; accounts of many wrecks at 
 Kingston and along the coast. Visited the 
 public buildings. Dublin is a fine city, 
 equal, if not superior, to Edinburgh. Yet it 
 is a deserted town. How galling must it be 
 to the feelings of a proud Irishman to see 
 this decay of his nation's greatness ! The 
 splendid Parliament House is now converted 
 into a banking-house ; the mansions of their 
 nobility are used as boarding-houses, ho- 
 tels, etc. 
 
 Dined with Mr. Cummins, an amateur 
 artist; a delightful party. In the morning, 
 went with Mr. Comerford to Kingston, a 
 distance of five miles, to see the effects of the 
 gale. It was a horrible sight: wrecks in 
 every quarter, some washing to pieces, some 
 driven high and dry upon the sandy beach. 
 In a new harbor just completed, which was 
 thought very secure, there were four large 
 ships broken to pieces. The new break- 
 
136 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 water, a stupendous work of a mile in 
 length with three railways upon it, was 
 torn up by the heavy sea, not a vestige of 
 the railways left ; the stones were hove up 
 like ice in- a spring flood. While we were 
 contemplating this scene, the waves having 
 subsided a little so as to enable us to walk 
 out on the ruinous pile, we saw a brig mak- 
 ing for the harbor in distress. She had lost 
 a part of her rigging, which rendered her in 
 some degree unmanageable ; and, besides, the 
 crew, as we afterwards learned, were worn 
 out with fatigue, so that she was unable to 
 make the harbor, but was drifting fast upon 
 the rocks, with a heavy sea and a strong 
 wind to force her upon them. This was an 
 awful moment: four or five hundred spec- 
 tators within hail, yet unable to render the 
 least assistance : it seemed that their doom 
 was sealed. Their only reliance now rested 
 upon the cable, which was literally their 
 thread of life. The poor wretches had 
 weathered the gale for fifty hours, and now 
 so near land, and yet without a hope of 
 escape ! Many of the seamen, and two or 
 three of the passengers, were clinging to the 
 bulwarks of the ship to prevent their being 
 washed off, unable to do more. At length 
 a ray of hope beams upon them : a boat is 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 137 
 
 discovered putting out from shore. It is a 
 lifeboat, manned with twelve brave, stout 
 tars. All eyes are now turned upon the 
 half-worn-out cable. There is a universal cry 
 of " If it only holds until the boat comes up, 
 they are safe ! " This was the most painful 
 and anxious moment of my life ; hope and 
 fear alternated in the breast of each be- 
 holder. Sometimes we heard the cry, " She 
 drags her anchor ; " and then, " No, she still 
 holds ; " until, at length, the boat came up 
 and made fast under the lee of the brig ; 
 and the passengers and crew were seen 
 crawling over the sides of the vessel, and 
 letting loose their hold : we could see them 
 fall like so many sacks into the boat. In a 
 few moments more we had the pleasure of 
 seeing these poor creatures snatched from 
 what had seemed, so recently, inevitable 
 destruction. Not long after this worn-out 
 crew had left their perilous situation, another 
 boat was seen putting off from shore with 
 as bold a crew as the former, but actuated 
 by very different motives : they went to 
 make a prize of the deserted wreck. At the 
 imminent hazard of their lives, they suc- 
 ceeded in boarding and taking her away. 
 
 Here I had the mortification to see the 
 frigate Essex, that had been taken during 
 the last war, a prison hulk. 
 
138 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 Wednesday, October 13. Left Dublin for 
 Holyhead in the king's steam-packet. There 
 was a tremendous sea rolling, in consequence 
 of the late gale. Landed at Holyhead at 
 two o'clock. Took a coach to Shrewsbury ; 
 slept at Bangor. At this place is now build- 
 ing a suspension bridge ; the distance from 
 one pier to another is five hundred and 
 seventy feet, and very high : a ship under 
 full sail can go under it. 
 
 Thursday morning at four we mounted 
 our " rolling world " and set off. When 
 daylight came we were in full view of the 
 Welsh mountains. They were beautiful, 
 with the tops covered with snow. We 
 wound our way through them for nearly 
 thirty miles. The road is fine beyond con- 
 ception (it was built by the government at 
 an enormous expense), the hills are barren, 
 rocky, and very steep. In every direction 
 little streams as pure and white as snow are 
 seen, tumbling down their sides. Now and 
 then we meet a hut covered with green turf. 
 On the very top of these lofty mountains 
 is a small lake of pure, cold water, from 
 which a little stream issues which increases 
 rapidly, as it descends the mountain, until it 
 becomes a river. The Dee passes through a 
 rich valley, highly improved. After leaving 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 139 
 
 the Dee, the scenery is entirely uninterest- 
 ing, and, like the greater part of England, 
 to be admired for little else besides its cul- 
 tivation. 
 
 Saturday, 16. Arrived safe in London. 
 Called upon my friends and patrons, but 
 found the most of them had left town. 
 When I first arrived in London (in August, 
 1823), I was told that "everybody was out 
 of town." I could not then understand it, 
 but now I felt the truth of the remark. 
 Spent a week in looking at the " wonders." 
 
 Sunday, October 17. Set off for the 
 Duke of Norfolk's, at Fornham, Bury St. 
 Edmunds. Arrived at three. 
 
 Monday morning, October 18. After 
 breakfast, took a post-chaise to Fornham, a 
 distance of two miles, for which I paid ten 
 shillings. I had only paid twelve shillings 
 from London to Bury. Cursed this imposi- 
 tion ; but, as I was going to the duke's, it 
 ill became me to complain. Arrived at the 
 Hall at ten o'clock. Found his Grace with 
 a small party at breakfast. He was very 
 polite ; introduced me to Sir Edward Cod- 
 rington, Dr. Wollaston, and several other 
 gentlemen. He was engaged for the day, 
 so could not give me a sitting ; but gave me 
 a good horse, and introduced me to his fac- 
 
140 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 tor. We rode all over the duke's grounds. 
 In the course of the day, we went into the 
 Court of Sessions. Nothing can be more 
 ridiculous, in my estimation, than the gowns 
 and wigs of the lawyers. Heard some sharp 
 disputation, tinctured with sarcasm. I never 
 heard so much confusion in any of our pet- 
 tifogging courts in my life. 
 
 The duke lives in splendid style. Ser- 
 vants in every direction to attend one's nod. 
 The dukedom of Norfolk is the finest in the 
 realm. 
 
 Tuesday. Commenced the portrait ; after 
 which the duke invited us all to ride with 
 him over his farms. He is a great agricul- 
 turist. His farms are as well conducted as 
 any in the country. His farmhouses are not 
 only comfortable, but would be called splen- 
 did in America. Stables, barns, yards, etc., 
 in the very best condition. We returned 
 about five to dress for dinner. The conver- 
 sation of this circle is generally upon the 
 "sports of the field," or the "turf," the 
 " breed of hounds," the " pedigree of a 
 horse," etc. Politics are seldom touched 
 upon. The variety of wines demands, of 
 course, a share of table-talk. 
 
 Thursday. Going on very well with the 
 picture. Sir Edward, I find, was at the 
 
CHESTER HABDING. 141 
 
 battle of New Orleans, and feels not a little 
 sore on account of the rough reception the 
 British met with there. 
 
 Friday night, all hands went to the the- 
 atre at Bury. The duke had " ordered a 
 play : " so, after dinner, which was early, we 
 set off in two carriages. The theatre was 
 very much crowded ; and, when we entered 
 the box that was appropriated to the duke, 
 all eyes were turned upon us. Probably, 
 for this once at any rate, I was taken for 
 one of the great ones. 
 
 Monday, November 1. Finished the head 
 of the duke. It is said by the company 
 present to be the best portrait that has been 
 taken of him. He has asked me to make a 
 copy of it for him, and has promised to give 
 me a sitting in town. He thinks I am mis- 
 taken in going back to America. He says 
 America is too young for the arts to flour- 
 ish. 
 
 Tuesday morning. Took leave of his 
 Grace. He made many professions of 
 friendship. He sent his carriage with me 
 to Bury. As 1 approached the inn, I ob- 
 served a good deal of bustle among the 
 attendants and hangers-on. I soon guessed 
 the reason. The duke's carriage could con- 
 tain no ordinary personage. I waited for a 
 
142 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 short time, until the coach came up ; and 
 the first thing the landlord did was to whis- 
 per in the coachman's ear, who was remark- 
 ably civil during the journey. 1 
 
 Wednesday evening, November 17. Left 
 London for Dover, at which place we arrived 
 at four p. M. As the boat left immediately 
 for Calais, I could see nothing of the place. 
 The boat had been detained two days by 
 head winds blowing a gale. It was doubt- 
 ful at first whether we should go or not; 
 but the captain concluded to try it, and at 
 ten we set off. I never experienced so dis- 
 agreeable a motion in my life. The waves 
 
 1 Mr. Harding often told a little incident which oc- 
 curred upon this journey. His fellow-travelers, seeing 
 him drive up in the duke's coach, took it for granted he 
 was a man of rank; and, judging from his appearance 
 that he was a military man, gave him the titleof Col- 
 onel. They were very obsequious, and were so talkative, 
 and used his imaginary title so frequently, that he grew 
 weary of it, and, turning to them at last, said with some 
 dignity, " General, if you please." But the higher his 
 rank, the more persistent their attentions. At last the 
 conversation turned upon America and American women, 
 whom his companions depreciated in a way which aroused 
 his indignation ; and he warmly undertook their defense. 
 They looked at him in surprise ; and one at last re- 
 marked, " You feel strongly about this matter.'' " And 
 well I may, " was the reply; "fori have an American 
 woman for my wife, and an American woman for my 
 mother." After this he was troubled with no more 
 superfluous attentions. 
 
CHESTER BARBING. 143 
 
 were rolling directly across our path, and 
 our little boat was tossed about like au egg- 
 shell. Every soul on board, but the sailors, 
 was sick. At three o'clock we made the 
 port of Calais. Here, for the first time since 
 I left home, I feel like a stranger. Every- 
 thing that meets my eyes or ears is foreign. 
 The appearance of the city and its inhabit- 
 ants is strikingly different from anything 
 that I ever met before. Calais is considered 
 impregnable : it is a walled town. Great 
 trouble and vexation at the custom-house. 
 
 Next morning we set off for Paris in 
 a diligence. The English say a great deal 
 of our bad roads and bad carriages ; but 
 they have only to cross the Channel to find, 
 not only worse roads and worse coaches, 
 but worse-lookingvestablishments altogether. 
 The horses are driven by rope lines, — two 
 wheel and three lead horses. The coachman 
 rides postilion, and the horses jog on at the 
 rate of about five miles an hour. As we 
 traveled by night, we necessarily lost some 
 of the views worth traveling for. We passed 
 through two walled towns during the night, 
 each of which I had a strong desire to see. 
 The gates of each town were shut, and 
 some little ceremony was necessary to get us 
 through. 
 
144 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 Saturday, November 20. Clear and cold. 
 I rode by the side of the conducteur the 
 greater part of the day ; but, as he did not 
 speak or understand one word of English, 
 our conversation was very much confined 
 to gesture. Nothing of especial interest 
 during the day ; passed some neat towns. 
 At eight in the evening, we arrived in Paris, 
 and stopped at the Hotel de Meurice. 
 
 Sunday, November 21. After breakfast 
 we set out in quest of wonders. The first 
 thing we came upon was the Tuileries, then 
 the gardens, then the Seine. The view from 
 the toll-bridge is the most picturesque I 
 have ever seen. I spend hours of the most 
 exquisite delight in looking at this scene. 
 The Louvre was open to the public, at least 
 the new one ; so we passed in without any 
 difficulty. From what I had seen and read 
 of the French artists, I was very much pre- 
 judiced against them ; but to my delight, I 
 found the exposition full of good pictures of 
 every class, except portraits, and there were 
 a few of those that were not bad. In the 
 higher walks of art, they stand decidedly 
 above the English. The English artists say 
 the French are full of affectation ; but I think 
 there is as much affectation in the English, 
 and of a less pardonable nature. A slovenly 
 
CHESTER BARDING. 145 
 
 finish and a contempt for the minutiae of 
 nature seem to possess the English ; while 
 a love of the sublime, and a high finish, 
 given even to the most trifling object, seem 
 the ruling passion of the French. The lat- 
 ter have too much " school," while the 
 former have too little. By far the greater 
 part of the French pictures are of the high- 
 est school of art, while those of the English 
 are of the lowest. Some of the large pic- 
 tures in the present exhibition give me great 
 delight ; one in particular, by Cogniet, of 
 Caius Marius on the ruins of Carthage. It 
 is nearer perfection than any, either ancient 
 or modern, that I have seen. It has poetry 
 in every inch of it. The exhibition is full 
 of beautiful interiors of cathedrals, con- 
 vents, etc., and a great many in the style of 
 Wilkie ; but their portraits are, in general, 
 wretchedly bad. There are two portraits 
 by Sir Thomas Lawrence, which shine like 
 diamonds among rubbish. Bowman and I 
 joined in procuring some casts, and other 
 materials for drawing. 
 
 After looking through the Louvre, we took 
 a walk through the Tuileries gardens. Here 
 is a sight that is worth a voyage across the 
 Atlantic to see. Although the season of 
 gayety has gone by, and the trees are leaf- 
 
146 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 less, yet the appearance to me was grand 
 and enchanting. The fine groups of statues 
 in marble, that one meets at every turn, are 
 objects of no little interest to me. Although 
 it was Sunday, we saw in the course of our 
 walk several groups of children singing and 
 dancing, while their parents and friends 
 looked on with great interest. How dif- 
 ferent this is from the rigid Puritanism of 
 the Scotch ! Whether it be right or wrong, 
 I will not attempt to say ; but this much 
 I must confess, it is innocent enjoyment to 
 them, and conducive to good feeling between 
 the children. 
 
 I am all impatience to get to painting 
 again. I think I have benefited from look- 
 ing at the French, as well as the antique, 
 pictures. Am getting on a little in my 
 French. 
 
 Wednesday, December 1. Dined with Mr. 
 Brown. At six, Washington Irving, Mr. 
 Bowdoin, Mr. Prince, and Mr. Finch called 
 for me with a carriage. This did not look 
 like a dinner " without ceremony." Not a 
 little astonished to find eight or ten ladies 
 assembled in the drawing - room. Had a 
 sumptuous dinner, but rather stiff. I was 
 seated by Lady Harvey, who is very affected 
 in her manners. A ludicrous mistake oc- 
 
CHESTER HABDING. 147 
 
 curred on the occasion of my making a cere- 
 monious call upon Mr. Brown, after the din- 
 ner party. It was raining and very muddy ; 
 and, as I stood in the hall, wiping my feet, 
 I said to the porter, by way of practicing 
 my French, "II fait mauvais temps." He 
 respectfully replied, " Oui, monsieur ; " and 
 immediately I heard " Mons. Mauvais 
 Temps" resounding up the stairway from 
 one servant to another, to the great amuse- 
 ment of the party in the parlor, who, as soon 
 as they saw me, comprehended the joke. 
 
 Last Saturday night, went to the Italian 
 opera to see " Othello." The character of 
 Desdemona, by Madame Pasta, was the 
 most perfect thing possible : the character 
 of Othello was also admirably played. Al- 
 though I could not understand the language, 
 yet the music and gesture were so impressive 
 that I could hardly contain myself. I could 
 scarcely keep my seat during the last act : 
 not a breath was heard from the audience 
 during the performance. There is a charm 
 in the Italian music which no other music 
 possesses. 
 
 Went on Saturday to the Louvre. The 
 French artists have more merit than I was 
 at first disposed to give them. Their knowl- 
 edge of anatomy is great : they draw well, 
 
148 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 and perhaps adhere as closely to nature as 
 the English in point of color; yet they 
 evince a want of taste in their choice. They 
 generally choose the coldest light. But there 
 is often a want of harmony about their pic- 
 tures, as if their heads were painted in one 
 light, the hands and drapery in another. 
 
 Tuesday, December 7. I went to see the 
 grand library in Rue Richelieu : this is the 
 finest establishment of the kind I have seen. 
 Went also to see the model of the great 
 elephant, commenced by Napoleon. This is 
 about fifty feet high : it was to have been 
 of bronze, and to serve as a fountain to sup- 
 ply the city, or a part of it, with water. 
 
 Wednesday, December 8. Bowman, Hay- 
 den, and myself set off for Versailles, which 
 is twelve miles from the city. We first 
 surveyed the grand palace, which is allowed 
 by all to be the finest in the world. To go 
 into a minute detail of all that I saw there, 
 would be the work of a day. The palace 
 has no furniture excepting pictures. The 
 paintings were mostly done in the reign of 
 Louis XIV., and much better than any the 
 present age can produce. We then visited 
 the Great and Little Trianon. The gardens 
 of the latter are, I believe, thirty miles 
 in circumference. The fountains are very 
 
CHESTER BAMDING. 149 
 
 numerous, and around each are allegorical 
 figures. 
 
 Monday, December 13. Went with Bow- 
 man to view Pere la Chaise, the common 
 burying-ground of Catholic citizens of Paris. 
 The most ordinary of the monuments has 
 something tasteful, either in the workman- 
 ship of the stone or the decorations. Gar- 
 lands of flowers are woven around the 
 stones. This decorating the graves of de- 
 parted friends is perhaps a weakness ; yet 
 it certainly is an amiable one, and can have 
 no bad effect. On the contrary, it keeps' 
 alive that tender feeling of respect for the 
 memory of those once loved, which all who 
 live are so ready to hope for when they shall 
 be numbered amongst the dead. 
 
 Tuesday, December 14. Determined to 
 go to London this week. Went to see the 
 celebrated painting in the dome of St. Gene- 
 vieve Chape], or, more commonly called, the 
 Pantheon, by Baron du Bos (created by 
 Charles X.). It is a masterpiece of art, 
 very difficult to execute ; but, from the dis- 
 tance at which we were obliged to view it, 
 it had a distorted and unnatural appear- 
 ance. 
 
 Bowman and I now went to view the 
 Louvre for the last time. We spent about 
 
150 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 three hours in the old gallery. I continue 
 to like and dislike the same pictures I did 
 at first, particularly the one I have before 
 mentioned — of Marius. I never can pass 
 it without feeling its superior worth, — with- 
 out paying adoration to it. It never fails to 
 interest and give me pleasure. 
 
 Thursday, December 16. Set off for Lon- 
 don. Landed at Dover at noon on Satur- 
 day. When the English custom-house offi- 
 cers came on board the steamer to inspect the 
 baggage of the passengers, their suspicions 
 fastened upon my friend Bowman. They 
 searched his trunk thoroughly, and even his 
 pockets ; but found nothing contraband, and 
 very little of anything else. Then came my 
 turn. I had a quantity of gloves, and many 
 other articles that were liable to seizure ; 
 but I gave them my key. They opened the 
 trunk, looked at a few articles of dress which 
 lay on top, and passed it. Bowman said to 
 me, "You were born to good luck." He 
 said it was my personal appearance which 
 cleared me so easily, while it was his diminu- 
 tive stature which aroused their suspicion of 
 him. His personal appearance was certainly 
 not much in his favor. 
 
 Sunday, December 19. Visited the cathe- 
 dral at Canterbury. Wandered about in 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 151 
 
 the long, echoing aisles in silent admiration. 
 While we were wrapped in silence and 
 thought, the grand organ began to chant. 
 It carried me to sublimer regions. I never 
 heard any music which seemed to inspire 
 me with religion like this. It produced a 
 pleasing, melancholy sensation, such as I 
 have felt in days long gone by, when under 
 a grove of our native pines, listening to the 
 hollow moaning of the breeze as it found its 
 way through them. 
 
 Monday, December 20. Arrived in town 
 last night, about eight. 
 
 Saturday, Christmas Day. This is a dull 
 day with me ; no one to go and take a fam- 
 ily dinner with. The very preparation of 
 others makes me unhappy. How foolish it 
 is for me to live from home in the way I do ! 
 I think this is the last Christmas I will spend 
 apart from my family. 
 
 TO 0. M. H. 
 
 London, December 26, 1824. 
 . . . Mr. Williams has a portrait of his 
 late mother by my old master Stuart ; it is 
 his last picture, and by no means his worst. 
 I have invariably sounded his praise as an 
 artist of the first distinction and merit, and 
 it has as often been said by the artists and 
 
152 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 connoisseurs here, that my partiality to his 
 pictures grew out of the respect I enter- 
 tained for the man, and for the rank he 
 held in America as an artist. But I have 
 it in my power now to prove that my opin- 
 ion is founded in reason and judgment. 
 This picture, although Stuart was never 
 highly thought of at home for his female 
 portraits, is a masterly production, and will 
 stand the test of a comparison with Sir 
 Thomas, or any other living artist. I intend 
 to have it exhibited this year, if possible, at 
 Somerset House. 
 
 TO S. F. L. 
 
 London, February 12, 1825. 
 
 The article you speak of in " Blackwood '" 
 was written by John Neale. . . . 
 
 The Duke of Sussex and Lady Anson con- 
 tinue to patronize me as warmly as ever. 
 This is very gratifying to my feelings. I 
 breakfast and dine with them very often. 
 I am painting a large half-length for the 
 Duke of Hamilton. I feel that my improve- 
 ment is great within the last nine months. 
 My visit to Paris was of great service to 
 me ; I saw a great deal in the way of art 
 that was excellent, as well among the mod- 
 erns as the ancients, and although I did not 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 153 
 
 paint while I was there, yet I profited by 
 the viewing of these excellent models. 
 
 My dear fellow, I am living within two 
 doors of the house where the immortal Rey- 
 nolds lived and died. Who knows but there 
 may be some magic in the atmosphere around 
 the hallowed spot? If so, perchance /may 
 inhale it, and like him cause my canvas to 
 breathe, — ahem ! — My modesty won't al- 
 low me to say more, nor even read what I 
 have written. I pay enormously high for 
 my rooms, $75 per month. This is a high 
 go, but " neck or nothing " with me, you 
 know. The situation and light are good. 
 
 Friday, February 18. Tfie season of 
 gayety is fast approaching ; but, beyond my 
 profession, what does it signify to me ? Per- 
 haps I may be invited now and then to a 
 dinner ; but it is very annoying frequently, 
 when there is no annoyance meant. To get 
 into a hackney-coach full of dirt and straw, 
 with one's very best fix-up on, with silk 
 stockings and white kid gloves, and start off 
 to a dinner, and arrive, perhaps, just as my 
 Lord's carriage and turnout are setting 
 down, with, perhaps, my Lady So-or-so wait- 
 ing her turn, and wondering what that vul- 
 gar man was invited for to intercept her 
 
154 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 passage, is rather galling to one's pride, al- 
 though he be a republican born and bred. 
 This is a good sort of place enough for a 
 man of wealth and leisure. He will always 
 find amusement of some kind; and if he 
 wish to become fashionable, in the high 
 sense of the word, this is his place. But for 
 a man who has to depend upon his hands 
 for his bread, whose very time is his money, 
 particularly if his profession be of an intel-X' 
 lectual nature, it is no place. A man in anjsy 
 profession that requires menta^pHPSBrga is 
 kept alive by the cheering ajMause of t his 
 friends. He needs constant eAourages aient 
 from them ; it is the food of geJras. "VV T ith- 
 out it, his efforts dwindle intonjere mecls.hani- 
 cal drudgery. " 
 
 " Ah ! who can tell how hard it is to elimb 
 The steep where Fame's proud tenjple shines afar ? 
 Ah ! who can tell how many a soul sublime 
 Hath felt the influence of malignant star, 
 And waged with fortune an eternal war ; 
 Checked by the scoff of pride, by envy's frown, 
 And poverty's unconquerable bar, 
 In life's low vale, remote, hath pined alone, 
 Then dropped into the grave, unpitied and unknown ? " 
 
 Sunday, February 27. Two months of 
 my rent have gone up, and I have not done 
 enough to pay it and my other expenses ; 
 but I hope for better times. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 155 
 
 The duke sat on Thursday last, and was 
 very pleasant, and seemed delighted with 
 the picture. He thinks I have made won- 
 derful progress in the art since I first 
 painted him. So I have ; but he is as much 
 pleased with the flattery in the last picture 
 as he is with my improvement. There is 
 not a human being on earth who is not sus- 
 ceptible to flattery ; and he who flatters 
 most in this great city will do the most 
 judicious thing. 
 
 Tuesday. Sent the duke and Mr. Atkin- 
 son to the exhibition in Suffolk Street. 
 
 Friday. Dined with Mr. Smith. In al- 
 most all the dinner-parties in high life that 
 I have attended, I have seen very little ease 
 or enjoyment of anything beyond the bottle 
 and the dinner. The company, with one or 
 two exceptions, are exceedingly on their 
 guard, measuring their sentences with great 
 care, and laughing very mechanically. My 
 impressions, however, may be influenced by 
 my own want of ease and enjoyment. 
 
 While we were at the table, after the 
 ladies had retired, we separated into knots, 
 some talking upon political economy, some 
 upon religion, some upon politics. I over- 
 heard one man, who was a member of Par- 
 liament, say that it was believed the United 
 
156 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 States would soon be divided into two or 
 more separate governments ; that the presi- 
 dential election would be the great cause. 
 This he urged against universal suffrage. 
 But as I was not of his little squad, I did 
 not say aught to the contrary, nor even pre- 
 tend to listen to him : he did not know I 
 was an American. 
 
 Monday, April 4. The exhibition in Suf- 
 folk Street is opened. There are some good 
 pictures ; but the balance is so much against 
 them that they appear but indifferently. 
 
 Bowman had sent two pictures to this 
 exhibition ; and, like myself, not doubting 
 but they would find a good situation in the 
 best room, had not taken the trouble to in- 
 quire after them. On my first entering the 
 rooms, I looked about, but saw none of his 
 in the little room. Well, thought I, he is 
 at least in the large room, whether they 
 have given him a good light' or not ; so on 
 I pushed, and soon encountered my own 
 two portraits in a capital light. Now for 
 Friend Bowman ! I looked about, but saw 
 him not ; I looked again, and was again dis- 
 appointed. Is it possible, thought I, that 
 they have rejected him ? My suspicions 
 were soon confirmed : they had sent his pic- 
 tures back to him without the least explana- 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 157 
 
 tion. Now one of the most painful offices 
 devolved upon me a man can have to per- 
 form. I had promised to see Bowman that 
 night, and tell him how his pictures looked, 
 what sort of light they were hung in, etc. 
 The hearing the fate of his pictures gave 
 him, I believe, les3 pain than the telling 
 him of it did me. 
 
 Having made up my mind to an excur- 
 sion to Glasgow, I gave Bowman the use of 
 my lodgings, and set off by the coach im- 
 mediately. Passed through Dumfries. This 
 is where the mortal remains of " Nature's 
 sweetest poet " lie buried. The coach stopped 
 but for twenty-five minutes, the usual time 
 allowed to passengers for refreshment. This 
 time, short as it was, I preferred to spend 
 in feasting my mind and imagination. The 
 churchyard was at least three minutes' 
 walk, or, I should say, run, from the inn ; 
 for I went with such speed through the 
 streets as to astonish the good people I met. 
 When I arrived at the churchyard, I found 
 an old woman ready to let me in at once, 
 and I lost no time in letting her know that 
 I preferred looking about me to her pra- 
 ting ; by which means I was shown at once 
 to the spot I had so longed to see. This 
 was consecrated ground, where I was dis- 
 
158 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 posed to linger, and forget all earthly things 
 in the contemplation of the heavenly part 
 of him who lay entombed beneath my feet. 
 The monument is simple and beautiful, and 
 the death-like stillness of everything about 
 me led me into a delightful train of thought. 
 While I was lost to everything external, I 
 heard the grating sound of a horn, the dis- 
 cordant effect of which sent a chill through 
 my veins. I wished that confounded horn 
 and its owner to the dogs. But it was for- 
 tunate for me that I heard it ; for it proved 
 to be the bugle of the guard, who was sum- 
 moning the passengers to their seats. So, 
 after being fairly brought to myself again, 
 I looked at my watch, and found that I had 
 stayd the full length of, my allotted time ; 
 and it was only by,t&e same speed I made 
 in going to, that-fmade in going from, the 
 inn that I reached it before the coach left. 
 
 On this journey, I met with an amusing 
 instance of sycophancy. The day^ before I 
 arrived in Glasgow, I had the misfortune 
 to fall in with a title - worshiper, and was 
 obliged to ride by his side all day. In the 
 course of the day, an officer got on the seat 
 with the driver, which led this companion 
 of mine to turn his attention considerably 
 towards him. He was conjecturing the 
 
CHESTER BARDING. 159 
 
 probable rank of the officer, when I hap- 
 pened to espy a sword-case, marked Captain 
 Sir Something, which I pointed out to my 
 friend. The moment he saw it, he ejacu- 
 lated in broad Scotch, " My God ! he 's a 
 nobleman." This was enough for Sawney. 
 Now how to ingratiate himself with the no- 
 bleman was his only care. He, however, be- 
 ing richly endowed with the sagacity for 
 which his countrymen are so noted, soon 
 hit upon the surest means of effecting his 
 object. He flattered the officer; laughed 
 at all his stale jokes ; was, in short, every- 
 thing the nobleman could have wished. At 
 dinner, there was a good opportunity to 
 show off, and the Scotchman took advantage 
 of it. He teased him to death by pressing 
 him to take this or that. He was, at least, 
 a bore to all but the officer. The time at 
 length arrived when the " nobleman " was 
 to take his leave of us. I will not attempt 
 to describe the chagrin the poor Scotchman 
 evinced when he found the man had gone, 
 — but the sword-case was left behind ! All 
 he could say was, " My God ! and he 's no 
 nobleman after a'." 
 
160 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 TO C. M. H. 
 
 Glasgow, April 14, 1825. 
 Dear Wife, — You will no doubt be a 
 good deal surprised to find that I am again 
 in the " land o' cakes." It was one of my 
 sudden moves. I made up my mind upon 
 the subject within the space of ten minutes 
 after the thing first occurred to me. You 
 will recollect that I painted a few heads 
 when I was here last autumn. They gave 
 so much satisfaction that I was invited by 
 several of the friends of those that I painted 
 to return to Glasgow, at the same time ac- 
 companying the request with the promise of 
 several pictures. It certainly was not the 
 proper time to leave London, but the fine 
 weather and the probability of my being 
 rather idle until after the opening of Somer- 
 set House, together with the love of the root 
 of all evil, had their influence, and I was 
 not long in determining to set off. I arrived 
 here on Saturday last. I have been here 
 but three days, have got rooms, and com- 
 menced pictures to the amount of $600, and 
 shall begin another to-morrow, which cer- 
 tainly augurs well. It is most gratifying to 
 know that my pictures are approved of after 
 a six months' contemplation. Not infre- 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 161 
 
 quently the interest in a picture wears off 
 with its novelty, but it seems quite the re- 
 verse with those I left in Glasgow. 
 
 April 7, took up my abode with Walker 
 in Buchanan Street. In the course of six 
 weeks I realized £350. 
 
 During this short but profitable visit, I 
 received great attention from several of the 
 first families in the place. My friends, the 
 Messrs. Pattison, were unceasing in their 
 attentions. Professor Davidson and others 
 were also very kind. I was invited to a 
 dinner given by the college club to Mr. 
 Dunn. Here I was placed in an embarrass- 
 ing situation. The company, to the number 
 of twenty - four, were very merry ; toasting 
 the college club, the corporation of Glasgow, 
 and many other public institutions, when 
 Mr. Davidson rose, and proposed as a toast, 
 " Success to the fine arts, and the health of 
 Mr. Harding." This, coming so unexpect- 
 edly, threw me completely off my balance. 
 I, however, thanked them for the honorable 
 mention they had been pleased to make of 
 me. Pretty soon, the president of the col- 
 lege, a reverend doctor, began a long speech 
 by saying that, until that moment, he did 
 not know that they had the honor of a dis- 
 
162 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 tinguished artist and a foreigner at their 
 dinner. He concluded by proposing more 
 directly, " The health of Mr. Harding." 
 Then followed a round of applause. This 
 was ten times more embarrassing than the 
 former ; and I could only say " that I felt 
 most sensibly the honor they had done 
 me, and begged to return them my sincere 
 thanks." I thought, when the venerable 
 doctor had concluded his eloquent speech, 
 that I would attempt to address the com- 
 pany, and say something more than merely 
 " Thank ye ; " but the solemnity of rising 
 disconcerted me so much that I hardly 
 knew whether I spoke or only whispered. 
 
 Many portraits are partly promised, in 
 case I should return. 
 
 It was during this visit that I made up 
 my mind to send for my family, and make 
 Glasgow my home. 
 
 Now, being very anxious to see the exhibi- 
 tions in London, I closed my engagements 
 here, and set off again for that city. I took 
 barely money enough to pay my way on the 
 most economical basis ; but, as I have never 
 yet learned to act upon that basis, I got my- 
 self into a sad dilemma. At Nottingham, I 
 had to pay my fare to London, which was 
 just two pounds ; but, as I was reduced to 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 163 
 
 just that sum, I should have no change for re- 
 freshments, or for the guard and coachman. 
 So I paid one pound, and left the other to 
 be paid on my arrival in town. I got on 
 very well until we arrived at the mail-stage 
 office in Islington : here I got off the coach, 
 and ordered my portmanteau into the inn, 
 and went to the bar, and asked the landlady 
 to let me have a pound, at which she seemed 
 somewhat astonished ; nor would she comply 
 with my request until the guard became 
 , responsible to her for that sum, although 
 she had my trunk. I got the pound at last, 
 and paid the remainder of my fare ; and 
 the coach drove off to the merry notes of 
 the bugle. 
 
 I went to the bar, and asked the bar-maid 
 to show me my room ; but, lo ! I could get 
 no bed at all, as she said they were full. 
 Here was a pretty business, — my trunk in 
 pawn, no money, and not a very preposses- 
 sing appearance, as I had not shaved, nor 
 changed my linen, for three days. I, how- 
 ever, set off in quest of another inn, though 
 the idea of again exposing myself to the 
 scrutinizing gaze of that beggarly race of 
 waiters was not the most pleasant. But 
 there was no alternative ; so I bolted into 
 the bar of the Angel Inn, with, as I thought, 
 
164 CHESTER HARDING, 
 
 a confident manner, and asked the head- 
 waiter to give me a bed. " Directly, sir." 
 " But," said I, " you -will oblige me, if 
 you will let me have a pound to redeem my 
 portmanteau." The waiter looked very cau- 
 tiously at me, but, after some hesitation, 
 called the " boots," and said, " Here, take 
 this pound, and go with the gentleman, and 
 pay for his trunk, and bring it here." As 
 soon as we arrived at the inn again, I called 
 for pen, ink, and paper ; at which brief de- 
 mand they all seemed to stare with great* 
 amazement. They obeyed, however, and I 
 was soon shown into my room. When I 
 called for the writing materials, I thought 
 I would write a line to Mr. Williams, but 
 changed my mind, and went to bed. 
 
 I had not been there many minutes before 
 I heard stocking-feet steps at or near my 
 door, and I soon guessed at their object. I 
 could hear them say, " Oh ! he 's gone to 
 bed." The next morning, a servant came 
 early into my room with, " Did you ring, 
 sir ? " but evidently to see if I had not 
 made way with myself ; and really, when I 
 came to look at myself by daylight, in the 
 glass, I did not so much wonder at their 
 suspicions. I was shockingly sunburnt, with 
 a long beard, and altogether a frightful 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 165 
 
 object. Before I went down, however, I 
 shaved, and put on some clean linen. The 
 good folks of the inn. no longer stared at 
 me, but were rather civil, particularly after 
 I had returned from Mr. Williams, with my 
 hands full of banknotes. 
 
 I now took a coach for my lodgings. Dur- 
 ing my absence, Bowman had collected al- 
 most all the pictures he had painted in Eng- 
 land, and strewed them about the rooms ; 
 and had left them to their fate. He was in 
 such despair that he kept aloof from all 
 respectable society. 
 
 I set off directly for the Somerset House. 
 As it had opened during my absence, I felt 
 the greatest impatience to see the paintings. 
 I did not feel that degree of anxiety about 
 my own pictures that I did the year before, 
 as I knew where they were placed ; still I 
 was very desirous to see how they stood 
 the comparison with other pictures. I was 
 happy to think that they were among the 
 best, not the worst, class in the exhibition. 
 I must say that I looked at them with as 
 much, and perhaps the same kind of, pride 
 as a mother feels in looking at her beautiful 
 daughter on her presentation at court. It 
 filled me with laudable ambition to excel ; 
 but I can here solemnly aver, that envy or 
 
166 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 jealousy of any other artist's talents or em- 
 inence never entered into my mind. I never 
 felt a greater pleasure in my profession than 
 then. It is a noble art, thought I ; it is, of 
 all others in the world, the most delightful. 
 But here the thought of my friend Bowman 
 broke in upon my delight. Poor fellow ! he 
 had sent four pictures to Somerset House, 
 — the two that were rejected at Suffolk 
 Street and two new ones ; but, sad to relate, 
 they were all condemned as unworthy a 
 place. This was certainly a disagreeable 
 shade in the delightful pictures I had just 
 been drawing of the profession. Here was 
 Bowman, by two years my senior in the art, 
 and who had ever since his commencement 
 been flattered, and taught to believe that he 
 was a wonderful genius ; and now, after 
 eight or nine years of hard study, his hopes 
 are blasted in this cruel manner. I sat upon 
 a bench for — God knows how long, look- 
 ing into vacancy, and thinking painfully of 
 the discouragements of the artist. I made 
 up my mind that he too was not free from 
 perplexities. 
 
 My absence from London, though short, 
 had, I found, broken up my connections in 
 a great degree. Some of my friends (I 
 should say patrons) were about leaving 
 
CHESTER HABDING. 167 
 
 town. Others had much to say of the gaye- 
 ties of the past season ; of their thankful- 
 ness that it was over ; of their wretched, 
 haggard faces, and similar subjects, unfavor- 
 able to that branch of the fine arts which 
 depends mainly upon the vanity of mankind 
 for its support. So I concluded to spend 
 a few weeks looking at the works of art, and 
 then return to Glasgow. 
 
 August 9. Left London, with all my im- 
 plements of painting. This was not effected 
 without some regret. London never looked 
 more charming than it did just then, al- 
 though everybody was out of town. The 
 idea of bidding it adieu, perhaps an eternal 
 one, was painful. I don't know how it is, 
 but I feel a great attachment to the great 
 metropolis, inhospitable as it is. It is the 
 fountain-head of everything that is excellent 
 in my profession, as well as every means of 
 attaining excellence in it. But I took my 
 seat on the top of a coach ; and, in the noisy 
 bustle about the coach-office, and the amus- 
 ing variety one always meets with on such 
 occasions, I set off in very good spirits. 
 
 Safely arrived in Glasgow, I began the 
 arduous task of finding apartments. I then 
 collected a few of my old pictures, which, 
 added to those I had brought down from 
 
168 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 London, made a tolerable exhibition. But 
 work was slow to come. Day after day I 
 spent in contemplating my beautiful light, 
 which I had been at six pounds' expense in 
 cutting out of the roof. I found some re- 
 lief, however, in furnishing my house, in 
 expectation of the arrival of my family. Be- 
 fore I left Glasgow for London, while I was 
 very busy, dozens were talking of sitting, 
 and three positively agreed to sit on my re- 
 turn ; but I find they have changed their 
 mind. Should I again be pressed with more 
 than I can attend to, no doubt they will be 
 as anxious as at first to have their pictures 
 taken. How fickle are people of quality, as 
 they consider themselves, in regard to mat- 
 ters of taste ! 
 
 to s. F. L. 
 
 29 Mtt.leb Street, Glasgow, October, 1825. 
 Dear Ltman, — I now sit down to ac- 
 knowledge the receipt of my wife and chil- 
 dren, who came safe to hand on the 24th 
 of September. After I had come to the 
 determination to send for them, I was very 
 impatient for their arrival. I thought more 
 about them in the two months' interval be- 
 tween my first decision and their arrival 
 than I had in the whole two years previous ; 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 169 
 
 for while I was passing the allotted time of 
 probation in my pursuit of professional 
 knowledge, I did not allow myself to think 
 of my family as a treasure to be enjoyed 
 until the expiration of my two years, there- 
 fore it had become to me a dream of future 
 happiness, like fortune or renown, a some- 
 thing that was to be the reward of voluntary 
 exile. But after having determined upon 
 their coming out, and more particularly after 
 receiving a letter in reply to my invitation, 
 I was all impatience. I began first to count 
 the weeks, and then the days, and then the 
 hours that separated us. 
 
 I received a letter from my wife, on her 
 arrival at Liverpool, telling me of her safe 
 voyage, and her intended departure from 
 Liverpool on the steamboat City of Glas- 
 gow ; so, on my arrival at Greenock, I 
 began to look for the boat, and soon had the 
 delight of seeing her. My impatience to 
 know if my family were on board was almost 
 beyond control. A few revolutions of the 
 heavy wheels brought us alongside of the 
 object my eyes had been, for the last hour, 
 so steadily riveted upon. I then saw my 
 wife, and waved my hand to her ; but we 
 kept out of speaking distance for some time. 
 
170 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 During this short interval, the risible mus- 
 cles of my face became excessively painful, 
 from the great effort it cost me to suppress 
 a downright schoolboy laugh. 
 
 Then came the meeting, — then followed 
 ten thousand inquiries after one and another, 
 in such rapid succession that one could not 
 be answered before another was asked. We 
 directly went aboard a Glasgow boat, and 
 in three hours arrived in safety at my own 
 lodgings. 
 
 I now took up my abode in Glasgow, with 
 my family around me ; and should have 
 been perfectly happy, if I could have seen 
 my way clear for gaining a support for 
 them. I had no work on hand, and the 
 trade of the community was seriously de- 
 pressed, while there was little prospect of 
 any immediate renewal ; so that I sometimes 
 wished I had gone to, instead of sending for, 
 my family. Fortunately for me, several of 
 my friends interested themselves in my be- 
 half, and got for me an order to paint a full- 
 length portrait of the " Deacon Convener of 
 Trades," who was a very popular man. I 
 was successful in my work, and exhibited 
 with eclat. This brought me many sitters : 
 indeed, for five or six months I was kept 
 constantly employed. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 171 
 
 I painted many of my best pictures at 
 this time ; but I found as my anxieties for 
 my family increased, my enthusiasm for my 
 art decreased. At times I felt a strong de- 
 sire to go to Italy ; but how could I leave 
 my wife and four children ? Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds was right when he said a painter's 
 wife or mistress should be his lay-figure, and 
 his art should be his first and only love. 
 
 The summer following (1826) was the 
 most disastrous to all branches of business 
 that had ever been known in the king- 
 dom. Nearly every country bank failed ; 
 and a universal panic seized the public 
 mind, spreading through all classes of soci- 
 ety. I was out of business : no one wanted 
 pictures while this excitement lasted, and no 
 one could tell when it would end. I thought 
 seriously of returning to America, and con- 
 sulted the Duke of Hamilton about my 
 plans. He at first favored my going to 
 Edinburgh ; but, after weighing all the cir- 
 cumstances, he finally agreed that I was 
 right, telling me I could return when the 
 condition of the country was more prosper- 
 ous. 1 This interview settled the question. I 
 
 1 In a farewell letter to Mr. Harding, the Duke of 
 Hamilton writes : " Nature with an indulgent hand has 
 given you much ; much you have acquired by your own 
 
172 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 finished what pictures I had on the easel, 
 collected what money was due me, and left 
 Glasgow for Liverpool. 
 
 I had to take leave of many good and 
 true friends, which was a sore trial : among 
 them were James Sheridan Knowles, John 
 Pattison, — one of nature's noblemen, — and 
 many others, all of whom wished me God- 
 speed. 
 
 This step was not taken without the most 
 painful regrets. No artist had a fairer 
 prospect of rising to the highest rank in his 
 profession, with such patrons as the Dukes 
 of Sussex and Hamilton, and many other 
 influential persons ; and with Lady Anson's 
 unwavering friendship. But I could not 
 live through the universal prostration of 
 business. I was influenced in my decision 
 even more by another consideration. I had 
 three daughters, nine, seven, and three years 
 old. They were very pretty. Should they, 
 when they grew up, fulfill the promise of 
 their childhood, I felt they would be ex- 
 posed to dangers growing out of the state of 
 society in England which they would be free 
 from at home. My profession entitled me 
 to move in the highest circles, in which, at 
 
 labor and industry, and I shall rejoice to learn that genius 
 and assiduity have been deservedly remunerated." 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 173 
 
 the same time, my wife and children would 
 not be recognized. This is one of the cruel 
 customs of the aristocracy of Great Brit- 
 ain. 
 
 "We were weather-bound in Liverpool ; but 
 the impatience that I naturally felt at my 
 compulsory stay was much alleviated by the 
 kindness of Mr. Roscoe, whose acquaintance 
 I made through a letter from the Duke of 
 Hamilton. He was very kind and attentive, 
 and showed me everything that was of any 
 interest in the city. Among other things, he 
 took me to see Mr. Audubon's collection of 
 birds, which he had just brought with him 
 from America. I saw all the original paint- 
 ings, and very beautiful they were. 
 
 After two weeks' weary watching of the 
 weathercock, the wind changed at last, and 
 we put out to sea about the first of Septem- 
 ber. 
 
 No pen can describe the pleasure we felt 
 when, after an uncomfortable passage of 
 forty days, we sailed into Boston harbor. 
 
 It was Sunday ; and with a fair, light 
 breeze and bright sun, the scene was en- 
 chanting. All the annoyances of the voyage 
 were forgotten : seasickness and head-winds 
 were as though they had not been. As I 
 took a parting look at the good ship To- 
 
174 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 paz, I could not but feel grateful to her, as 
 though she had been " a thing of life," for 
 the part she had taken in bringing us 
 through so many storms. Her ultimate fate 
 cost me "a sigh, when I heard of it. Her 
 next voyage was to India, where she was 
 captured and burnt by pirates. 
 
 After reeling about awhile on the wharf, 
 a store or counting-room was opened ; and 
 we staggered up a long flight of stairs, like 
 so many intoxicated persons. We took a 
 carriage, and drove to the Exchange Hotel. 
 What a luxury it was to sit down to dinner, 
 and find the dishes and tumblers keep their 
 places ! 
 
 I walked out with the children. Every- 
 thing had a diminutive appearance. The 
 Common was not what it used to be in old 
 times. The children took but little interest 
 in what they saw ; but they had one wonder 
 to tell their mother of, that they had not 
 seen a single beggar. I met many old 
 friends, who gave me a hearty welcome 
 home. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 175 
 
 TO CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 ON HIS DEPARTURE FROM BRITAIN FOR AMER- 
 ICA. 
 
 Son of another shore! "We bid thee not 
 
 To linger longer in this alien land, — 
 
 Alien in nought but distance, — while thy 
 
 thought, 
 Anticipating Time, doth to the strand 
 Of thy far Father-home waft thee away : 
 Ours be the fond farewells that say not " Stay ! " 
 But 't is because we love the World's Young 
 
 Hope, 
 Thy country, more than even we love thee, 
 That we do seek not to transplant a lop 
 From her yet budding boughs of Art's green tree 
 Into our earth, though yet we trust it drew 
 Some healthful nurture from our older soil. 
 No, Harding, no — of such she yet hath few : 
 Go, — and enrich her with triumphant toil ! 
 
 James Sheridan Knowleb. 
 July, 1826. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Upon his return from Scotland Mr. Hard- 
 ing's family spent a few months in North- 
 ampton, Mass., among their old friends, and 
 then rejoined him in Boston. Upon their 
 arrival he writes to his friend S. F. Lyman : 
 
 Boston, February 8, 1827. 
 
 My dear Lyman, — On Thursday, the 
 first instant, I received my wife and chil- 
 dren, all in good condition. I had a lodg- 
 ing provided where I took them on the night 
 of their arrival. I was not the only one 
 delighted by this event ; the children were 
 frantic with delight : they laughed and cried 
 and chattered like magpies. I am now a 
 good, steady, fatherly old man once more, 
 and I can assure you that I am much hap- 
 pier in all respects than before. 
 
 As to financial matter's, my dear friend, 
 I can say that I am doing tolerably well. 
 Since I commenced I have painted to the 
 amount of $1,400, and I have little doubt 
 that my business will increase rather than 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 177 
 
 diminish. I find my pictures give satisfac- 
 tion, and if I am not gaining popularity to 
 the degree that I did when I was here be- 
 fore, I feel that I am gaining fame, which 
 is a thousand times preferable. It is rather 
 against me that I created such an excite- 
 ment then, — an interest that could not by 
 any human exertion be kept alive. I am 
 identified with my former pictures, and as 
 they are not worthy the high encomiums 
 that were passed upon them, the natural 
 consequence is a reaction, which I have to 
 contend with ; but perseverance will do won- 
 ders. 
 
 My dear fellow, I have bid adieu to 
 Northampton for a while. My present plan 
 is to buy a house in Boston, and run the 
 risk of paying for it by and by. Mr. Soli- 
 citor Davis says that the only money he is 
 worth was made by being in debt. He 
 therefore recommended to me the same 
 course. 
 
 Why don't you visit the great seat of 
 learning this winter ? Come down while 
 Macready is here. He is expected soon. 
 
 I am painting Judge Robbins and his 
 lady. Do let me hear from you often. 
 
 Adieu. Chester Harding. 
 
178 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 TO S. F. L. 
 At Home, No. 9 Cedar Street. 
 
 . . . You will perhaps want to know how 
 much rent I pay. I have taken a house for 
 two years at $400 per year, with the priv- 
 ilege of vacating it at the expiration of one, 
 by paying twenty-five dollars extra. We are 
 within a stone's throw of the Misses Cabot, 
 and very near Mrs. Eliot and Mrs. Minot, all 
 of whom are pleasant neighbors, you know. 
 
 I am happy to tell you that my profes- 
 sional labors have increased rather than 
 otherwise, and that, in spite of the cost of 
 furnishing, I have still a little left to feed 
 upon in case of a " rainy day." 
 
 I have written to Mr. Hale of Quebec to 
 let him know that if he is still desirous that 
 I should visit his ancient city I will do so. 
 
 to s. F. L. 
 
 Montreal, June 24, 1827. 
 Dear Lyman, — It is not long since you 
 had a line from me dated Boston, informing 
 you of my intention of visiting H. M. domin- 
 ions, in the hope of combining profit and 
 pleasure ; but how far I shall realize either 
 I am not prepared to say. I must confess, 
 however, that the pleasure of traveling in 
 this province is not so unalloyed as that of 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 179 
 
 traveling through the mother country. I 
 have met with more arrogance, illiberality, 
 and willful error on all subjects relative to 
 the States, in the short time that I have been 
 here, than I met with during my three years' 
 visit in England. Not to speak of the lux- 
 ury of good roads, good carriages, and good 
 accommodation at inns, etc., there is no- 
 thing to be seen of improvement in agricul- 
 ture, nor in any of the fine or useful arts. 
 The farms are miserably tilled,, the dwel- 
 lings are inconvenient, with bad out-houses, 
 if any at all ; and this want of thrift per- 
 vades almost all classes of farmers, Cana- 
 dian as well as Europeans. I see no hope 
 of its becoming better under the present 
 subjection to the mother country. If you 
 are in company with an Englishman, no 
 matter what his pretensions may be, he is 
 always talking of home, — " We do these 
 things differently at home." Not a single 
 individual have I met who does not consider 
 himself in a state of temporary exile ; they 
 don't care a straw what becomes of the coun- 
 try if they get their ends answered. No 
 man cares about internal improvements, no 
 individual, I should say, for certainly the 
 crown is expending some thousands yearly 
 on canals and fortifications, and the only in- 
 
180 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 terest the individuals resident here seem to 
 take in the disbursements is in securing to 
 themselves a large share of the money. Now 
 I hold this state of things to be incompat- 
 ible with a thriving and well-founded gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 I have spent a week with my old comrade 
 
 B , who lives about twenty miles above 
 
 the city. He has bought a farm of eighty 
 acres and is wasting some money in im- 
 provements upon it. It would baffle the skill 
 of a veteran farmer to bring it into any- 
 thing like a thriving or wholesome state. 
 It is completely overrun with thistles, and 
 besides, the Canadians have no conception 
 of renovating land by manure. Their sys- 
 tem is to cart the manure that is made in 
 their barn-yards, on the ice, before the river 
 breaks up in the spring, that it may be 
 washed out of the way. After such a prac- 
 tice for a hundred years, what can you ex- 
 pect of a farm ? 
 
 What a stupendous river the St. Law- 
 rence is ! If its banks were peopled by an 
 independent and enterprising population, 
 there would be no counting the wealth that 
 would flow down upon its surface. There 
 would soon be canals large enough for 
 steamboats to pass from the Gulf of St. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 181 
 
 Lawrence to Lake Ontario. But, alas, it is 
 doomed for many years to come to see no 
 larger barks than her canoes pass over her 
 gentle rapids. . . . 
 
 There is but one subject that the hetero- 
 geneous mass of English, Irish, Scotch, and 
 French agree upon, and that is in most cor- 
 dially hating the Yankees. . . . 
 
 God bless you. Love to all friends. 
 
 C. Harding. 
 
 TO S. F. L. 
 
 No. 16 Beacon Street, Boston, December, 1827. 
 
 . . . The truth is, I have been too much 
 absorbed in the man of business to think of 
 sitting down to devote an hour exclusively 
 to writing a letter. I have not got the deed 
 yet, but I have had possession of my new 
 house on Beacon Street for five weeks past, 
 and am about moving into it with my fam- 
 ily. The room that I have fitted up is the 
 finest in the world for my trade, and with 
 the alterations and improvements that I have 
 made, the family part is by no means con- 
 temptible. I have painted the front, which 
 makes a great change for the better. . . . 
 
 As to the sum over and above the $6,500 
 to be secured by mortgage, I have borrowed 
 11,000 on short credit, and I believe that I 
 
182 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 can muster the rest without great inconven- 
 ience from my outstanding debts. . . . 
 
 Although I have been so much taken off 
 the shop, in playing the man of business, 
 I have done several portraits, one in partic- 
 ular of Mrs. Daniel Webster, which has 
 elicited from her husband a voluntary prom- 
 ise that he will sit to me the moment he re- 
 turns from this political campaign. 
 
 to s. F. L. 
 
 Baltimore, May 6, 1828. 
 . . . You know, of course, that I have 
 been leading a vagabond life for the last 
 three or four months, three of which I spent 
 in the great city of Washington ; but you 
 may not know that for the last three months 
 my health has been but indifferently good. 
 Indeed, some of the time I have been as 
 miserable a devil as ever was afflicted with 
 that most miserable complaint, the dyspep- 
 sia. I am in hopes of mastering it by rigid 
 discipline. I am convinced that the disorder 
 has been growing upon me for the last eight 
 months. It acts upon the intellectual as 
 well as the animal man. It is the cause of 
 the " blue devils " and similar diseases of the 
 mind. I think if I were in Northampton, 
 where I could take a great deal of horse- 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 183 
 
 back exercise and breathe the pure Yankee 
 air once more, that I should soon be myself 
 again. It may, however, be some weeks yet 
 before I leave this city, at least I should like 
 to paint a few more heads. In short, I want 
 to get out of debt, and then I should be 
 easy. 
 
 My visit to Washington, notwithstanding 
 my indisposition, has been one of profit and 
 pleasure. I have had the gratification of 
 seeing a good deal of the great men of the 
 age, particularly Judge Marshall. I am con- 
 vinced that I shall feel through life that the 
 opportunity to paint the Chief Justice, and 
 at the same time hear him converse, would 
 be ample compensation for my trouble in 
 accomplishing these objects. But over and 
 above all that, I have got portraits of all the 
 Supreme Judges. I am busy in this place, 
 although there is a tremendous stagnation 
 in the commercial world. They are looking, 
 however, with great hopes to the completion 
 of the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad, but 
 it won't do ; the place is already overgrown, 
 with a wretchedly poor country back of it. 
 
184 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 TO A YOUNG ARTIST. 
 
 Richmond, October 14, 1S29. 
 
 Dear , — Yours of the 28th of Sep- 
 tember I received a few days since, and 
 I now sit down with pleasure to reply to it. 
 In the first place, on the subject of your 
 peregrinations. I think I may say with a 
 good deal of certainty that you would meet 
 with encouragement enough in the western 
 world to defray expenses, and I think a good 
 deal more. However, times are bearing 
 heavily on all parts of the country and upon 
 all classes of men ; at least so I find it here. 
 I think you would be as likely to do well in 
 some of our country towns in New England, 
 say Montpelier, the capital of Vermont, 
 Burlington, or some of the towns in New 
 Hampshire. But I would advise your 
 charging so low that the cost of a picture 
 need not stand in the way of your getting 
 sitters, as it is not money you want so much 
 as practice, for a year or two. Therefore 
 I would paint for twenty-five dollars, though 
 it is a little humiliating. 
 
 That there are, as says, a multitude 
 
 of starving artists, I make no doubt ; but I 
 do doubt what his murmurings would imply, 
 that taste in England is on the wane. He is 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 185 
 
 subject to seasons of despondency like all 
 men of ardent temperament. When once a 
 man begins to receive praise for his works, 
 it is no longer possible for him to live with- 
 out a constant stream of it. If it is stopped 
 or turned for a time to some other quarter, 
 he thinks that he is forsaken or neglected, — 
 begins to curse his hard fate, and, without 
 the least philosophy, often gives himself up 
 to the most gloomy forebodings. 
 
 In our art, and I suppose in that of sculp- 
 ture too, the first steps are easily taken, 
 and not only the artist, but all his friends 
 look upon the first dawnings of genius with 
 the most enthusiastic admiration. They say, 
 and he believes, that he is to outstrip every- 
 body who is on the stage before him. He 
 is cheered while yet on the threshold by his 
 own advance. But he soon finds, as he is 
 beginning to grope his way by some shorter 
 way than others have taken who have pre- 
 ceded him, that difficulties arise on all sides. 
 By and by he begins to wish that he had 
 taken the surer, though beaten track, pointed 
 out by so many who have gone before him. 
 His friends, too, begin to be impatient of 
 his slackened pace, and gradually grow cool 
 in their zeal ; from coolness they go to indif- 
 ference, next, to neglect. Now if the young 
 
186 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 man has the heart to go on in search of 
 truth and fame, he is no ordinary genius, 
 and is sure to reap the reward ultimately. 
 What is more often the case, however, is 
 that he is totally disheartened, regards his 
 profession no longer with enthusiasm, but 
 merely as a means of getting bread, and if 
 in that light it offers greater rewards for his 
 daily labor than the trade he gave up, he 
 pursues it, if not, he goes to the " last," or 
 strikes out some new line of industry. Now 
 our friend, although a sensible man, is likely 
 to be a little elated by the success with 
 which his debut has been marked, and con- 
 sequently is likely to be depressed in the 
 same ratio for a time. His is a genius that 
 will ultimately soar above all ordinary obsta- 
 cles, I may say imaginary obstacles, for 
 there are, in fact, but few that are real. 
 Once we begin to allow trifles to affect us, 
 there is no end to the evils that we shall be 
 sure to meet with on every side ; at least, I 
 find upon examination that nine tenths of 
 my perplexities are but imaginary. 
 
 Mr. Harding's narrative continues : — 
 I now began my career again in Boston ; 
 not as I did on my first appearance in that 
 city, for then I was entirely self-taught, and 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 187 
 
 little could be expected of one from the 
 back-woods : but now I came fresh from the 
 schools of Europe, and with some reputa- 
 tion. I felt keenly how much more would 
 be required of me, to fill the expectations 
 of the connoisseurs and patrons of art. 
 
 My first picture was of Emily Marshall, 
 then the reigning beauty of Boston. No 
 artist's skill could be put to a severer test ; 
 for her beauty depended much upon the ex- 
 pression of her animated face, which, when 
 lighted up in conversation, was bewitchingly 
 lovely. I did not succeed to my own satis- 
 faction, though others seemed well pleased. 1 
 
 1 The following; passage is taken from a letter from 
 Miss E. S. Quinoy of Quinoy, Mass., to one of Mr. Hard- 
 ing's children : — 
 
 " How well I remember both his studios. The first 
 was in Beacon Street, near the present Athenseum, — I • 
 can see the portraits ranged on the floor, for they suc- 
 ceeded each other so rapidly there was no time to frame 
 and hang them. His second studio was in Cornhill, and I 
 can see the portraits of Emily Marshall, and of Mrs. Web- 
 ster, in the dress she wore at Bunker Hill on the day of 
 the celebration, June 17, 1825, — a pearl-colored hat and 
 pelisse. It was impossible, as your father says, to catch 
 the living fascination of Emily Marshall's face, — but his 
 portrait, I am told, is the only record which remains of 
 her beauty. She was the most celebrated belle who ever 
 appeared in our country, and was as much admired by 
 ladies as by gentlemen, and although she was ever before 
 the public, as it were, her celebrity never waned. If she 
 walked in the street, I always expected a smile and a 
 
188 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 Much interest was shown in my paintings, 
 and I soon had enough to do ; though, of 
 the eighty applicants on my list when I left 
 Boston, not one came to renew his engage- 
 ment. Many whom I had painted previously 
 wanted their pictures altered, either because 
 the dress was out of fashion, or the expres- 
 sion did not please them, etc. ; but I found 
 it would never do to begin to alter the old 
 pictures. So I adopted for a rule, that I 
 would paint a new picture in the place of 
 the old one, and deduct the price of the lat- 
 ter. I now charged one hundred dollars for 
 a head : my former price was fifty dollars. 
 
 Among the sitters I had at this time was 
 Timothy Pickering of Salem. He was far 
 advanced in years, but as bright in intellect 
 as a man of thirty. His conversation was 
 extremely interesting, though it mostly per- 
 tained to the early days of our government. 
 One day, I felt a strong desire to know how 
 a man would feel who knew that his allotted 
 time was nearly spent, and thought I might 
 venture to put the question to him ; so I 
 said, " You have lived beyond the average 
 of human life: how do you feel upon the 
 
 bow from her, and never passed her father's house with- 
 out looking up to see her heautif ul face brought aut in 
 full relief against the crimson curtain." 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 189 
 
 subject of the final departure to the other 
 world ? " His reply was, " It was only the 
 other day I was asking old Dr. Holyoke the 
 same question." The doctor was some ten 
 years his senior. 
 
 I had at this time, to take care of my 
 room, a boy who afforded me much amuse- 
 ment. I came into my studio one day, when 
 he handed me a card. I asked him what 
 the -gentleman said who left it. He replied, 
 that he said he wanted to pay me some- 
 thing. " But," said I, " he owes me nothing." 
 " Well, that 's what he said ; but I can't 
 remember what it was he wanted to pay." 
 " Was it his respects ? " said I. " Oh ! yes, 
 sir," he answered, evidently much relieved, 
 " that was it." 
 
 I, for the first time, was reading " Gil 
 Bias : " I had finished the first, and had be- 
 gun the second volume. It was a dark, snowy 
 day, and no visitors came in to interrupt us. 
 The boy took up the first volume, as he sat 
 on one side of the stove, and I on the other. 
 As we read on, the humor of tbe book would 
 prove too much for my risibles, and I would 
 be forced to laugh aloud ; then the boy would 
 respond at something he had come across : so 
 there we were, master and man, both enjoy- 
 ing the witty story with equal delight. I 
 
190 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 think if the author could have seen us, he 
 would have laughed as heartily as either. 
 
 I had now become intimately acquainted 
 with Mr. Allston. His habits were peculiar 
 in many respects. He lived alone, dining 
 at six o'clock, and sitting up far into the 
 night. He breakfasted at eleven or twelve. 
 He usually spent three or four evenings, or 
 rather nights, at my house every week; and 
 I greatly eDJoyed his conversation, which 
 was of the most polished and refined order, 
 and always instructive. I sometimes called 
 at his studio. It was an old barn, very 
 large, and as cheerless as any anchorite 
 could desire. He never had it swept, and 
 the accumulation of the dust of many years 
 was an inch deep. You could see a track, 
 leading through it to some remote corner of 
 the room, as plainly as in new-fallen snow. 
 He saw few friends in his room ; lived al- 
 most in solitude, with only his own great 
 thoughts to sustain him. 
 
 Just before I sailed for Europe, he had 
 shown me his great picture of the " Feast 
 of Belshazzar." It was then finished, with 
 the exception of the figure of Daniel. I 
 thought it a wonderfid picture. I was not 
 to speak of it to any one but Leslie. Dur- 
 ing the three years of my absence, he did 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 191 
 
 not work on it. I had a fine, large studio ; 
 and, when I went to Washington, which I 
 did in the winter of 1828, I gave it to Mr. 
 Allston to finish his picture in. But he did 
 not unroll it. He painted all winter, in- 
 stead, on a landscape ; and, when I came 
 home, I found he had wiped out his winter's 
 work, saying it was not worthy of him. He 
 smoked incessantly, became nervous, and 
 was haunted by fears that his great picture 
 would not come up to the standard of his 
 high reputation. One day, he went to his 
 friend Loammi Baldwin, and said, " I have 
 to-day blotted out my four years' work on 
 my ' Handwriting on the Wall.' " 
 
 He had discovered ' some little defect in 
 the perspective, which could not be corrected 
 without enlarging the figures in the fore- 
 ground. Had he painted this picture in 
 London, surrounded by the best works of 
 art, and in daily intercourse with artists of 
 his own standing, his picture would un- 
 doubtedly have taken a high rank among 
 the best works of the old masters. As it is, 
 it is only a monument of wasted genius of 
 the highest order. 
 
 [The following letter from Washington Allston to Mr. 
 Harding gives such an agreeable impression of the "so- 
 cial nature " of the former, and at the same time pays so 
 
192 CHESTER HABD1NG. 
 
 pleasant a tribute to the latter, that no apnlogy is needed 
 for inserting it.] 
 
 Cambridgepokt, Mass., December 25, 1838. 
 
 Dear Harding, — Your letter from Cincin- 
 nati brought me an unexpected pleasure (though 
 some perhaps might not think so, from this tardy 
 acknowledgment ; but not you, who too well 
 know that I am anything but a punctual cor- 
 respondent), and I sincerely thank you for it. 
 Independent of the satisfaction of being kindly 
 remembered, it was a pleasure to me to hear of 
 the success of one whom I so highly esteem. I 
 regret, however, that this sublime place supplies 
 too little subject-matter for a letter to enable me 
 to make a proper return ; and my visits to Boston 
 are so rare that I can glean next to nothing from 
 that quarter. I might indeed talk of myself; 
 but that is a subject on which I seldom care to 
 say much at any time. All I shall say on it at 
 present is, that I have been, as usual, hard at 
 work ; to what effect, I hope you will see on your 
 return. You know that I am never idle ; and, 
 if I bring but little to pass, it is because my no- 
 tions of excellence are sometimes beyond my 
 reach. I may add to this indefiniteness, that I 
 expect to resume " Belshazzar " in the spring. 
 
 You say that you think more of your art when 
 you are away from home. This is natural, and 
 must needs be so with one who has so large a 
 family to care for. But I do not think it a sub- 
 ject of self-reproach that it is so ; but there would 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 193 
 
 be a just one, if you suffered even the love of 
 art to supplant the duties you owe to them, — I 
 do not mean by the neglecting to provide for them, 
 which would be unpardonable ; but by taking the 
 place of those personal attentions, those nameless 
 kindnesses, that go to make up. so large a portion 
 of domestic happiness. I have often thought of 
 your conduct with regard to your family, and 
 always with increased respect. Tou have a good 
 wife and good children ; a fact that bears the 
 strongest evidence of your right bearing as a hus- 
 band and a father. Neither do I think that your 
 attentions to them, liberal as I know them to be, 
 have ever caused you to neglect your pencil. 
 Your numerous pictures ought to set your heart 
 at rest on that score. Upon the whole, I cannot 
 but consider your lot a desirable one. Much as 
 I love my art (and I believe no one ever rightly 
 loved it more), I still hold it subordinate to my 
 affections. But there is time for the exercise of 
 both, except, perhaps, where grinding poverty 
 allows no remission of labor. But, even then, 
 no man who continues true to his social nature is 
 ever without some redeeming moment, when he 
 is at liberty to interchange kindnesses ; and it is 
 seldom that any one is ever wholly deprived of 
 such moments excepting by his own fault. . . . 
 Present my compliments to Miss Harding, who, 
 I understand, is with you ; and believe me, dear 
 Harding, 
 
 Ever your faithful friend, 
 
 Washington Allston. 
 
194 CHESTER HARDING: 
 
 At this period of my life, I become ac- 
 quainted with N. P. Willis. He was the 
 " lion " of the town ; was young, handsome, 
 and wrote poetry divinely. He often met 
 Allston at my house, and, I trust, recollects 
 how swiftly the hours flew by. He is living, 
 and it is not my province to speak of his 
 fame. It is national, and will be cherished 
 wherever the English language is read. The 
 friendship then formed between us has never 
 for a moment been disturbed. 
 
 During my stay in "Washington, alluded 
 to above, I painted many of the distin- 
 guished men of the day, such as Mr. Adams, 
 Mr. "Wirt, all the judges of the Supreme 
 Court, etc. Among them was a full-length 
 portrait of Judge Marshall, for the Athe- 
 naeum. I consider it a good picture. I had 
 great pleasure in painting the whole of such 
 a man. I remember one or two little inci- 
 • dents connected with him, which amused me 
 at the time. "When I was ready to draw 
 the figure into his picture, I asked him, in 
 order to save 4ime for him, to come to my 
 room in the evening, as I could draw it just 
 as well then as by daylight. He was glad to 
 do so. An evening was appointed ; but he 
 could not come until after the " consulta- 
 tion," which lasts until about eight o'clock. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 195 
 
 It was a warm evening, and I was standing 
 on my steps waiting for him, when he soon 
 made his appearance ; but, to my surprise, 
 without a hat. I showed him into my studio, 
 and stepped back to fasten the front door, 
 where I encountered Mr. Storrs, M. C, and 
 two or three other gentlemen, who knew the 
 judge very well. They had seen him pass- 
 ing by their hotel in his hatless condition, 
 and with long strides, as if in great haste ; 
 and had followed, curious to know the cause 
 of such a strange appearance. 
 
 When I reentered the studio, I inquired 
 of the judge whether he did not come with- 
 out a hat, and he said " Yes ; " that the con- 
 sultation lasted longer than he expected, and 
 he hurried off as quickly as possible to keep 
 his appointment with me. When he was 
 preparing to return to his lodgings, I urged 
 him to take my hat ; but he said, " Oh, no ! 
 it is a warm night, I shall not need one." 
 
 I again met Judge Marshall in Richmond, 
 whither I went during the sitting of the 
 Convention for amending the Constitution. 
 He was a leading member of a quoit club, 
 which I was invited to attend. The battle- 
 ground was about a mile from the city in a 
 beautiful grove. I went early, with a friend, 
 just as the party were beginning to arrive. 
 
196 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 I watched for the coming of the old chief. 
 He soon approached with his coat on his 
 arm, and his hat in his hand, which he was 
 using as a fan. He walked directly up to 
 a large bowl of mint-julep, which had been 
 prepared, and drank off a tumbler full of 
 the liquid, smacked his lips, and then turned 
 to the company, with a cheerful " How are 
 you, gentlemen ? " He was looked' upon as 
 the best pitcher of the party, and could 
 throw heavier quoits than any other member 
 of the club. The game began with great ani- 
 mation. There were several ties ; and, be- 
 fore long, I saw the great Chief Justice of 
 the Supreme Court of the United States, 
 down on his knees, measuring the contested 
 distance with a straw, with as much earnest- 
 ness as if it had been a point of law ; and 
 if he proved to be in the right, the woods 
 would ring with his triumphant shout. 
 What would the dignitaries of the highest 
 court of England have thought, if they had 
 been present ? 
 
 I was again in Washington in the winter 
 of 1830-31, when I painted the portrait of 
 John C. Calhoun. During the sittings he 
 invited me to come up to the Senate, as 
 there was to be an interesting debate. Mr. 
 Hayne was to speak on the subject of 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 197 
 
 " Foote's Resolutions," in reply to a short 
 speech of Mr. Webster. I accepted the in- 
 vitation, and Mr. Calhoun admitted me as 
 one of the many favored ones. 
 
 Mr. Hayne was most eloquent, and ex- 
 ceedingly bitter in his remarks upon Mr. 
 Webster's speech ; and so scathing in his 
 denunciations of New England and her 
 policy, that I felt his sarcasms were unan- 
 swerable. I think all the friends of Mr. 
 Webster thought so too. The South side of 
 the Senate were vociferous in their applause. 
 At night, I went to see the fallen great man, 
 as I considered him. My daughter was vis- 
 iting Mr. Webster's daughter at the time. 
 To my surprise, I found him cheerful, even 
 playful. He had the two girls upon his 
 knees. I told him I expected to find him 
 in another room, pointing to his library. 
 "Time enough for that in the morning," 
 said he. 
 
 Mr. Calhoun gave me another sitting the 
 next morning. He seemed to think the great 
 champion of the North was annihilated. He 
 said it was a pity he had laid himself open 
 at so many points. 
 
 I needed no invitation to go to the Sen- 
 ate that morning. I went early to the gal- 
 lery, and secured a seat among the reporters. 
 
198 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 As Mr. Webster entered the Senate, all eyes 
 were turned upon him. He was elegantly 
 dressed, and apparently less excited than 
 any of his friends. I felt towards Mr. Web- 
 ster as I imagine a criminal might feel who 
 looks to his counsel to save him from pun- 
 ishment for some crime he is charged with. 
 He soon, however, put me at my ease. As 
 he proceeded with his speech, all his friends 
 felt satisfied that victory was his. I asked 
 Mr. Calhoun what he thought of Webster's 
 reply. He said simply, but with great em- 
 phasis, " Mr. Webster is a strong man, sir, 
 a very strong man" 
 
 Washington, February 25, 1830. 
 Dear Lyman, — I am happy to reply to 
 your kind favor of the 20th handed me by 
 Colonel Dwight. It is a long time indeed, 
 since any greetings have passed between us, 
 though I do assure you that I have often in 
 imagination been in Northampton. But I 
 must not indulge in many preliminary re- 
 marks, or it will require more than one sheet 
 to answer all your interrogatories. You 
 probably know that I left Boston for Bich- 
 mond with the intention of taking off the 
 heads of the Convention. During my stay 
 in that place, I painted eighteen portraits in 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 199 
 
 all, and amongst them were the two vice- 
 presidents, John Randolph and Chief Jus- 
 tice Marshall again. My visit, independent 
 of any pecuniary consideration, was one that 
 I shall long remember with pleasure. It was 
 a noble sight to behold the first steps in the 
 proceedings of that body. They, as you 
 know, chose Mr. Monroe as the president. 
 It was truly affecting to all present, when, 
 after the unanimous voice of the Convention 
 had proclaimed him their head, the Chief 
 Justice and Mr. Madison led him to the 
 chair. The stillness of death pervaded the 
 whole house, which was only broken by the 
 tremulous voice of the president. Insignifi- 
 cant as this Convention was in comparison 
 with that of Seventy-six, it nevertheless 
 brought that illustrious body to my imagi- 
 nation very forcibly. Indeed, this trio of 
 revolutionary veterans seemed almost a part 
 of that august assemblage. 
 
 I had frequent opportunities to hear the 
 most interesting debates during my stay. I 
 heard several of Randolph's happiest efforts, 
 besides which I had the pleasure of seeing 
 a good deal of the great luminaries in my 
 own room. 
 
 I had brought a letter to Randolph from 
 General Hamilton of South Carolina, asking 
 
200 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 him to sit to me for his portrait. I presented 
 it with considerable trepidation knowing 
 something of his peculiarities, but my fears 
 were groundless. I was most graciously re- 
 ceived, and was assured that it would give 
 him great pleasure to sit to me. At the 
 close of the second sitting, he said, " If you 
 have no objection to showing your sketch, I 
 would like to see it. I know if it is like, it 
 will be very ugly. Ah ! it is very like." 
 
 I painted four different pictures of Ran- 
 dolph during my stay, and I do assure you 
 that I have never seen a more perfect gen- 
 tleman in all respects, or a more entertain- 
 ing or instructive companion than he was. 
 His memory is stored with everything that 
 can be called for by any occasion or any re- 
 mark, no matter upon what subject, or in 
 what strain. 
 
 I was in Richmond about three months. 
 I saw much of the high life of the place. 
 There is a great deal of broken-down aris- 
 tocracy. Pride and poverty are singularly 
 blended. Many an old family have lost the 
 greater part of their estates, but still attempt 
 the same style that they were wont to keep 
 up when in the full tide of prosperity. 
 
 Democracy is in its greatest force here, 
 in one sense of the word. I do not wish to 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 201 
 
 augnr evil, but I venture the prediction, that 
 Virginia has seen her manhood (forgive the 
 Irishism) both morally and physically. You 
 would be disgusted to see the low, bar-room 
 dissipation that is spreading through all the 
 younger part of society. No public spirit, 
 — no roads nor bridges, nor any public 
 works, unless cock-pits and race-courses can 
 be dignified by that name. 
 
 Yes, my dear fellow, I did witness the late 
 intellectual combats, — at least so much of 
 them as relates to Webster and Hayne. It 
 was a glorious victory for New England. 
 There was an unceasing hurrah of triumph 
 by the Hayne-ites, after his first reply to 
 Mr. Webster, and many of the friends of 
 the latter feared the result, so good was his 
 uncontradicted story. Indeed, the attack 
 was in his most eloquent and biting manner. 
 He closed his speech about three o'clock, the 
 usual hour for adjourning, when Mr. Web- 
 ster rose to reply, but some member moved 
 an adjournment until Monday. From Fri- 
 day till Monday there was nothing talked of, 
 indoors or out, but Mr. Webster's set-down. 
 Monday came, and at an early hour the 
 Senate was filled to suffocation. Ladies 
 and gentlemen were admitted to the floor of 
 the Senate, ladies occupying the seats of 
 
202 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 Senators. The ordinary business of the 
 morning was dispensed with, and Mr. Web- 
 ster commenced speaking about 12.30 and 
 spoke until half past four. The substance 
 of what he said you have in the papers, and 
 as you have heard him, you may imagine in 
 part the effect. I never felt the power of 
 eloquence before. I could not keep my seat. 
 The " when, the how, the wherefore," is not 
 done justice to in the report, nor can you 
 conceive the effect the " Ghost of Banquo " 
 had upon the audience. It is impossible for 
 the pen to describe the interest that was 
 kept on tiptoe from beginning to end. Not 
 a man nor woman left the Senate until it 
 adjourned. 
 
 God bless you and yours. 
 
 C. Harding. 
 
 In the latter part of the summer of 1830, 
 I had taken my family to Springfield, Mass., 
 to spend a portion of the warm weather. 
 We were all so well pleased with the place 
 that I exchanged my house on Beacon Street 
 for one in Springfield, which has been our 
 home ever since. 
 
 Little of interest occurred in my life for 
 several years. Its monotony was varied only 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 203 
 
 by several professional trips to the West and 
 South. 
 
 In 1845 I met with a sore bereavement in 
 the death of my wife. She died on the 27th 
 of August, after an illness of but three days. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 At this point the story of Mr. Harding's 
 life, as told by himself, ceases in any con- 
 tinuous form. The only indications of the 
 course it followed for the sixteen years 
 which intervened between the removal of 
 his family to Springfield and his second 
 trip to England are to be found in the few 
 hastily written family letters which have 
 been preserved, and from which the sub- 
 joined extracts have been made. 
 
 TO M. E. H. 
 
 Boston, June, 1836. 
 Dear M., — I owe you one letter, and here 
 you have it. You speak of several that I 
 am indebted to you for. Now I deny the 
 debt altogether. Every time I go home I 
 consider the account settled, all debts paid ; 
 and when I leave, then a new one is opened. 
 When I write to your mother I feel that I 
 am writing to you all, and each one has the 
 reading of my letters if they please, though 
 I admit that some of them are so short that 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 205 
 
 if they were to be divided amongst you all, 
 the amount that each one would get would 
 be small, as a pie before it is cut looks well, 
 and to any one of the party would be a 
 tremendous quantity, but apportionate it out 
 in pieces and it is nothing at all. The sun, 
 you know, can be looked at by millions, and 
 none of its splendor be diminished. Mil- 
 lions can receive warmth from it, and yet 
 its heat be none the less. Just so it is with 
 my letters : each one of the family can read 
 and be edified and entertained by them 
 without in the least decreasing their value ! 
 By this logic you will see that you are all 
 largely my debtors. . . . 
 
 You have heard of Dr. Stevenson's death. 
 I feel his loss most deeply. He was an in- 
 timate friend as well as my physician. His 
 is the first death that has occurred in our 
 club since it was formed. 1 
 
 1 " When I was a young man, and soon after Mr. Hard- 
 ing's return from his first visit to England, I belonged 
 to a club with Harding, James K. Mills, Nat. P. Willis, 
 Horace Mann, Dr. S. G. Howe, Charles Sumner, Ed- 
 ward G. Loring, etc., etc., who dined at each other's houses 
 weekly and had grand good times, until some of our party 
 became politicians, and the after-dinner talk on Anti- 
 slavery became so personal that we had to break up the 
 Club." (Extract from letter of J. T. Reed to Samuel 
 Bowles, of Springfield, Mass.) 
 
206 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 TO M. E. H. 
 
 Baltimore, October 6, 1838. 
 Deak M., — Caroline wrote home yester- 
 day, and I thought that would be the last 
 you would hear from us, until we reached 
 the great western valley. But as bad luck 
 will have it we are detained one day more 
 in consequence of the rascality of the stage 
 agents. We leave here for Wheeling this 
 afternoon, to sleep at Frederick, sixty-six 
 miles from here ; there we wait for the 
 morning line until one o'clock to-morrow, 
 and then we go night and day. What a 
 prospect lies before us ! Never mind, it will 
 be all the same five hundred years hence. 
 
 It is as warm here as July, — mosquitoes 
 as thick as the flies in our kitchen. Caro- 
 line's face is much like the sides of a fine 
 trout, full of red spots. In the trout this is 
 a great beauty, but I very much question 
 whether you would think said red spots any 
 improvement to the face divine. I have no 
 doubt it may be good for the health, as low 
 bleeding is recommended for plethora. 
 
 Last night closed the city election. It 
 was a most violent contest. The result was 
 known about midnight, and at one o'clock 
 there came about forty drunken fellows into 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 207 
 
 the hotel to greet one of the leaders. He 
 was in bed on the same floor with us. I 
 thought at first it was a company of dra- 
 goons. Caroline was in a room not far 
 from me, and alone, though I thought Miss 
 Shubrick was with her. She was almost 
 frightened to death, so she said this morn- 
 ing. I should have gone to her rescue, only 
 that I feared Miss S. might be as much 
 frightened at me inside the room, as she was 
 at the larks outside. . . . 
 
 I hope you are improving your time by 
 reading something useful. Not a novel 
 on any account. Novels only weaken the 
 mind and give a distaste for useful reading. 
 " Johnson's Lives of the Poets " is a book 
 I can recommend. But above all things 
 whatever you read, do not forget. 
 
 Are n't you astonished to see so scholar- 
 like looking a letter from such a quarter ? 
 I hope you will make the proper acknowl- 
 edgment of the same. 
 
 Love to all from your loving Pa. 
 
 TO J. M. K. 1 
 Springfield, Artist's Eetreat, July 11, 1840. 
 Dear Son, — Here I am, seated in our 
 parlor with the windows closed, to keep out 
 1 Hon. John M Krum of St. Louis, Mo. 
 
208 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 the flies and heat. The mercury is pretty 
 well up in the world, though by the aid of 
 the trees in front, together with the cooling 
 pattering of the fountain, we can keep tol- 
 erably cool. This place looks more like 
 fairy-land than ever. It is a lovely spot be- 
 yond a question, and if I had a fortune to 
 enable me to keep it up as I could wish, 
 there is no spot I should like better for the 
 summer months. . . . 
 
 In politics we are " going it strong " on 
 the right track. I hope to see a change in 
 the administration. We have had enough 
 of experiments for the last twelve years, 
 and I think that any change from this gov- 
 ernment of office-holders will be for the bet- 
 ter. This eternal war upon credit and the 
 currency has ruined thousands. Nothing 
 but a United States Bank will put us right 
 again. I rather think that the town you 
 are now living in, and yourself included of 
 course, would be worth five times as much 
 as- you now are if old Jackson had remained 
 quietly at the Hermitage for the last twelve 
 years. I know the office-holders will move 
 heaven and earth to keep their places, poor 
 disinterested creatures ! But enough of this. 
 
 I think I shall be obliged to go and try to 
 get a little food for my wife and children 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 209 
 
 this afternoon. What a sacrifice I make to 
 keep my family in fish ! But as fish is con- 
 sidered more wholesome than flesh in hot 
 weather, I am willing to make it. 
 
 Give much love to O . 
 
 Your affectionate father, 
 
 C. Harding. 
 
 to J. M. K. 
 New Orleans, January 18, 1840. 
 
 My dear Son, — We have had some 
 extreme cold weather here. The other morn- 
 ing I thought I discovered some signs of 
 white frost, although the mercury did not 
 indicate so low a temperature. I presume 
 there has been no doubt on that point in 
 Alton. For the last two weeks we have had 
 no occasion for a fire more than half the 
 time, and some of the days we have had our 
 windows up like midsummer. 
 
 W writes me that the times are as 
 
 hard as ever in Boston. What are we com- 
 ing to? If government will pass an act 
 prohibitory of all foreign goods, I don't care 
 how soon they pass an act to put down credit 
 of every sort, public and private, and let 
 the expenses of the government be paid by 
 direct tax. 
 
 Speaking of the credit system, I think 
 
210 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 your State and citizens are likely to have 
 enough of it. By the time Benton's hard 
 currency is in full operation, one dollar will 
 of necessity be worth as much as five or six 
 at the present time. How will Illinois pay 
 her interest on her foreign loans ? I think 
 she will take the " benefit of the act," and 
 private debtors will do ditto. 
 
 We have had great glorification in this 
 city. The " Hero of two wars " has been 
 down here, but it was, as the boys say, " no 
 go." There was less enthusiasm shown than 
 I ever saw evinced for any public man who 
 made a show of himself ; — no shouting and 
 throwing up of caps, except by boys and 
 "niggers." This is a solemn fact, and it 
 struck deep in the old General's heart. He 
 often expressed great disappointment. I 
 was grieved to see it, for whatever I may 
 think of President Jackson, I certainly think 
 most highly of General Jackson. It was 
 believed here that the old man came down 
 to electioneer for his son and heir, Martin 
 the First. Whatever the effect may be 
 abroad, I really think he lost more than he 
 gained in New Orleans. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 211 
 
 TO C. H. HAEDING, JB. 
 
 Boston, November 3, 1841. 
 . . . There is one thing that I wish to 
 impress upon your mind as of the utmost 
 importance, which is, that you improve 
 every moment of your leisure in classical 
 and belles-lettres acquirements. I do not 
 mean by this that you should turn over the 
 leaves of the books you read for the sake 
 merely of reading apy given set of works. 
 Fix indelibly in your mind the contents of 
 every book you read, as so much capital laid 
 aside for future use. It is better to read 
 a little, understandingly, than to hurry 
 through whole libraries. Regard each book 
 as a fountain, and never go to it without 
 carrying away some of its useful store. Ask 
 yourself this question every time you sit 
 down to a book — What object have I in 
 reading this work ? The answer will be, to 
 get new ideas. Of what advantage will 
 those ideas be to you? should be another 
 question. Certainly not for present use 
 merely, but they are to be treasured in your 
 memory, to be drawn upon as occasion re- 
 quires through life. Look at the very com- 
 mon evil of careless reading. For example, 
 a man reads the Constitution of the United 
 
212 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 States in the too frequent, careless way. A 
 week or a day after, he is with gentlemen who 
 are discussing this same document, and gross 
 blundering statements are made as to this 
 or that power granted or withheld. Ten to 
 one the man who has so recently read it 
 cannot put them right on a single point. 
 The reading took him twenty minutes. How 
 much better for him had he taken as many 
 hours or days, if by so doing he could com- 
 prehend and treasure up its contents. 
 
 TO J. M. K. 
 
 Boston, November 22, 1841. 
 . . . The next important matter to be 
 communicated is the doings on account of 
 the Prince de Joinville's ball, which comes 
 off to-morrow night. Caro and I are all 
 that are to go to the affair. Your mother, 
 not having her dancing shoes in readiness, 
 declines going, as she has a holy horror of 
 wall-flowers. M., and W. too, decline. It 
 is to be hoped that the Prince won't know 
 that three out of my family stay away from 
 the ball, as that circumstance would detract 
 much from the compliment. Indeed, there 
 is no telling what the effect might be upon 
 the proud King of the French. The ball is 
 to be held in the old Cradle of Liberty, and 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 213 
 
 the supper is to be served in the large ro- 
 tunda of Quincy Market, the two being con- 
 nected by a suspension bridge. 
 
 TO J. M. K. 
 Lexington, Ky., November 14, 1842. 
 
 ... I think it is quite doubtful whether 
 I get as far as Cuba this winter. I really 
 hope that I may find a fair demand for the 
 commodity of heads in the towns on the 
 Mississippi. Once I should have been de- 
 lighted with the thought of a trip to a for- 
 eign country, but I begin to fear that I am 
 older than I was twenty years ago. Per- 
 haps the title 1 that you have helped me to 
 has something to do with the idea. What- 
 ever the cause, I have determined that this 
 shall be my last trip from home. 
 
 What a paradise this same Kentucky is ! 
 I '11 venture to assert that the world can't 
 produce a finer tract of land than is com- 
 prised in six or eight counties in this 
 region. The good people lack nothing but 
 the comforts of life. Luxuries they have 
 in the greatest profusion, but in all the little 
 trifles that go to make up the sum total of 
 comfort, as we at the North understand it, 
 they are wofully deficient. This may be a 
 
 1 Grandfather. 
 
214 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 necessary concomitant of slavery. Perhaps 
 it is wisely ordered ; if the social system 
 here were perfect, who would be content to 
 toil out his existence in the sterile New Eng- 
 land States ? 
 
 TO J. M. K. 
 Springfield, August 14, 1842. 
 I have just returned from a trip to the 
 White Hills, where I reveled in fine scen- 
 ery, fine air, and magnificent trout brooks. 
 When you feel like coming to this region, 
 and wish to be born again physically, we 
 will make up a party and spend a few 
 weeks in that invigorating region. There is 
 not another spot in this country where the 
 weak can be made strong, the wretched 
 made happy, and the poor made to feel rich. 
 Therefore if you should ever be afflicted 
 with any of these complaints, come on and 
 be relieved. 
 
 TO M. E. H. 
 Aububn, N. Y., Seward Palace, March 10, 1843. 
 Deak Pegos, — Here I am, ensconced in 
 the gubernatorial chair, inditing a letter to 
 my lovely daughter. But what shall I write ? 
 is the question that has just crossed my nod- 
 dle. You know nobody here that I can 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 215 
 
 speak of, and I know so few people that I 
 could in any event have no gossip to relate. 
 Here is the state's prison, it is true, but I 
 have not been inside of its walls. It has 
 a large family within, about eight hundred 
 wretches who have violated the laws of the 
 land, and are expiating their crimes. 
 
 I '11 give you a description of the family 
 I am with. To begin with the head. A 
 
 small man about the size of W D ; 
 
 about thirty-five ; aquiline nose ; blue eyes ; 
 reddish - brown hair, and very agreeable 
 manners. Madam is almost very beautiful ; 
 black eyes ; dark hair ; and a fine figure. 
 She is very modest, and very intelligent ; 
 has read a great deal, and talks politics 
 almost as well as her husband, — not from 
 choice, but only when others choose to give 
 the conversation a political turn. She has 
 the good taste to admire Mad. d'Arblay, 
 and " The Neighbors." 
 
 The Governor has resumed his practice 
 at the bar as a lawyer. He spends his 
 evenings at home in the library (which is 
 very extensive), talking and smoking. I 
 have now one of his cigars in my mouth, 
 and a very good one it is. I wish I could 
 send you one. But I will send you a kiss 
 conveyed from my lips to the paper by the 
 
216 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 wet end of the weed. [Then follows a sketch 
 of the lighted cigar.] 
 
 I am getting on very well with my pic- 
 ture. I expect to complete my work here 
 in all next week, when I shall set off for 
 New York. . . . 
 Give love to all. 
 
 I am your dear old Daddy, 
 
 Chester Harding. 
 
 Astok House, New Yobk, April 18, 1850. 
 
 I think the best time to set out trees is 
 just as the buds are pretty well swollen ; 
 but the main art is in the mode, not the 
 time. Trees should be taken up with care. 
 Keep the masses of fibres from being torn 
 from the roots, and, if possible, keep the 
 earth with them ; the more root, the better, 
 provided the fibres are there, for it is they 
 that keep the tree alive. 
 
 Now comes the difficult matter of setting. 
 Place the tree in a hole, in an upright posi- 
 tion, sprinkle in a little fine loam, wash it 
 around the fibres, put in more loam and 
 more water, and so on, until the hole is filled. 
 Don't stamp or ram down the earth. After 
 this, secure the tree in such a manner that 
 the wind will not move the roots. 
 
CBESTER HARDING. 217 
 
 Springfieij), October 1, 1864. 
 Dear M., — It is my intention to look in 
 on you on Monday, for a day or so. Don't 
 have any firing of guns, or ringing of bells. 
 I shall travel incog. Yours ever, 
 
 Chester Harding. 
 
 (No date.) 
 Dear M., — Yours of this morning is re- 
 ceived. I am well ; if you are well, all 's 
 well. Your affectionate father, 
 
 Chester Harding. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 In August, 1846, Mr. Harding made a 
 second visit to England, where he spent 
 nine months with profit and pleasure. Dur- 
 ing that time he kept no journal, other 
 than the letters he wrote to his family, from 
 which the following extracts have been 
 made. 
 
 Halifax, August 18, 1846. 
 We are thus far in safety, though not 
 without peril. About eight o'clock of the 
 evening of the first day, it came on very 
 thick with fog, and we were booming along 
 at a great rate through old ocean, when 
 there came a sharp cry of " Helm hard to 
 port." In less than half a minute we heard 
 a most awful crash. We had run down a 
 fishing schooner with eleven souls on board. 
 The vessel sunk just at our stern, going un- 
 der one of our paddle-boxes. Most of the 
 men were below, and of course went down 
 with the hapless craft. Five men were kept 
 afloat until we lowered a boat and took them 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 219 
 
 aboard. We were more than an hour in 
 picking them up ; we could hear their cries 
 for help, but it was so dark that it was diffi- 
 cult to find them, and after they had been 
 taken into the boat it took another hour for 
 them to find the ship. We fired guns, but 
 it seems they did not hear them owing to 
 the noise of the waves, and but for the blue 
 lights that were burned on board it is doubt- 
 ful if they would have found the ship. The 
 poor wretches were quite exhausted. We 
 got calmed down again and were once more 
 on our course, and I and most of the other 
 passengers had turned in, when a similar 
 cry of " Hard to port " arose. All sprung 
 up and rushed on deck, to see another 
 schooner not twenty feet from us. Two 
 minutes after there came another cry of 
 " Larboard hard," and in like manner we 
 just escaped a third smack. By this time 
 there was very little disposition to turn in. 
 The rest of the night we went at slow speed, 
 and were right glad to see daylight. Two 
 of the persons saved were brothers, one, a 
 lad of twelve years ; they lost their father 
 and a brother. We raised a purse of f 300 
 for the sufferers, giving 150 to the men 
 saved and the rest to the relief of the 
 widows of two of the men who were lost. 
 
220 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 London, August 30, 1846. Just at night 
 of the fourth day from land, we fell in with 
 some mountains of ice. Many of them were 
 as large as the State House at Boston. One 
 of them, the captain said, was two hundred 
 feet high, and three times as broad at the 
 base. It looked like a giant's snow-fort. 
 While we were all admiring this sublime 
 spectacle, the captain drew my attention to 
 a small iceberg, nearly covered with water ; 
 telling me that it was those that were the 
 terror of navigators. They are not easily 
 seen in rough weather, and to encounter one 
 would be as fatal as to run on to a reef of 
 rocks. We made our port in eleven days 
 and a half. 
 
 I find nobody in town that I want to 
 see. I have strolled about a good deal, visit- 
 ing my old haunts. Yesterday, I went to 
 the National Gallery, and looked at the 
 works of the old masters. Many of them 
 I saw frequently when I was here before ; 
 but I find that most of them do not please 
 me so much as they did formerly. I have 
 dined with Pickersgill and Leslie, and vis- 
 ited their studios ; but I am disappointed 
 in the modern portraits that I have seen. 
 I find, on looking at my own old pictures, 
 that I was at least twenty years younger in 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 221 
 
 the art than I am now, whatever I may be 
 in years. 
 
 Glasgow, October 11. Glasgow looks, in 
 the main, just as it did twenty years ago, 
 though it has spread out into the country, 
 and has doubled its population. But it is 
 sad to find my former friends grown so old. 
 It is almost impossible to feel that these 
 gray-headed men are the same persons that 
 I knew so intimately when I was here be- 
 fore. I have looked in the glass to see if I 
 can discover any change in my own looks ; 
 and sometimes I think I can discover a 
 slight one. 
 
 October 12. The only thing in the way 
 of my profession worth relating is that Mr. 
 Alison, the historian, is sitting to me. What 
 do you imagine he looks like ? Of course 
 you have pictured in your mind some image 
 of the great author. He looks no more like 
 one's imagination of an author than I do 
 like a bishop. He is nearly my own size, 
 with a round, full face, of the complexion 
 of Mr. Everett, reddish hair, large yellow 
 whiskers ; yet has rather a distinguished air. 
 He is the sheriff of Glasgow, a very impor- 
 tant office ; and is highly esteemed by all 
 classes. 
 
 The last ten days have been miserably 
 
222 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 dull and rainy. My only relief from the 
 horrors has been in books. I have read 
 Hazlitt's writings on art with a good deal 
 of pleasure and instruction. I am now 
 reading Alison's History. I commenced it, 
 mainly, so that when he was sitting to me I 
 need not have the mortification of saying I 
 had not read his book. But since I have 
 got fairly into the history, I have needed no 
 such motive to induce me to go on with the 
 work. It is beautifully written, and more 
 exciting than any work of fiction. I am de- 
 lighted with the " Diary and Letters of 
 Madame d'Arblay." It is highly interest- 
 ing. I would recommend it to your atten- 
 tion, if you have not already got hold of it. 
 But don't let H. read it, nor any other 
 book that does not directly or indirectly 
 promote his studies. Light reading of any 
 kind must dissipate the mind, and, at any 
 age, make hard study uninteresting ; but, to 
 the boy, it is ruinous : of this I am well sat- 
 isfied. 
 
 These same Scotch folks that I am among 
 are a curious people. Close in their habits 
 of economy, thrifty in business, always look- 
 ing after their own interest, yet they are 
 overflowing with hospitality. They always 
 have some one or more to " tak' pot-luck wi' 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 223 
 
 them," and make dinner a social meal. 
 They often sit two hours at the table ; more 
 for the sake of conversation than for drink- 
 ing. 
 
 My habits are very regular. I rise at nine 
 o'clock, order breakfast, smoke my cigar, 
 and then go to work. I fast from that time 
 until dinner, which is at six. I go home 
 about eleven, and read till one ; and then 
 turn in to my bed. I am not sure but that 
 I shall become a confirmed reader. I begin 
 to feel great restlessness if I am idle a mo- 
 ment in my room. 
 
 November 1. Among my other pleasing 
 occupations, I have had three or four of my 
 teeth filled by the great dentist of the place. 
 The reason I mention this circumstance is, 
 that you may know the way I paid the bill. 
 After he had finished the work, I took out 
 my pocket-book, and asked him how much 
 I had to pay. "Nothing" said he; "I 
 never charge artists for any such small 
 jobs." Do you think Dr. Perkins would 
 have so much consideration for the arts ? 
 
 Yesterday, I dined again with Mr. Alison, 
 and met Mr. Lockhart and his daughter. 
 He is very agreeable and gentlemanly. His 
 daughter is rather pretty, and simple in man- 
 ners. After the ladies retired, Mr. Alison 
 
224 CHESTER HABDING. 
 
 joined Mr. Lockhart and myself ; and we 
 were carrying on a very interesting conversa- 
 tion on the arts (here the arts are the sub- 
 jects for general conversation, as much as 
 politics are with us), hut, horrible to relate ! 
 just at this happy moment, I was attacked 
 most violently with one of my turns of colic. 
 I resorted to my usual remedies, but found 
 little relief ; and was obliged to get into Mr. 
 Alison's carriage, and drive home. This is 
 the first attack I have had for three or four 
 years. I would rather have had it at any 
 other time, as it deprived me of a most de- 
 lightful party. I wanted much to have made 
 some conversation with the grand-daughter 
 of Sir Walter Scott. But, Pegos, what 
 is is. 
 
 November 15. They have in this city 
 just opened an exhibition on the plan of the 
 Athenaeum, only not equal to it in point of 
 merit. I was invited to see it, the day be- 
 fore it was opened to the public. There are 
 many pretty good pictures, but none first- 
 rate. They are very proud of it ; and one 
 of the principal artists asked me, with ap- 
 parent pride and exultation, if we had any- 
 thing of the kind in America. 
 
 Nothing of any great interest has crossed 
 my path since my last. I have had no great 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 225 
 
 dinners, no colic ; things have gone on very 
 monotonously. The sun has not been seen 
 for the last ten days, and fears are begin- 
 ning to be felt for his safety. When last 
 seen, he was struggling through a dense 
 mass of smoke and fog. 
 
 Dear daughter, as the great day of all 
 New England days approaches, I cannot but 
 wish that I could form one of the party 
 around C.'s table. You may be assured 
 that I shall be in the midst of you, in spirit. 
 This morning I was awakened by a friendly 
 knock at my door. I was dreaming at the 
 time, most delightfully, of being at home 
 with Caro. and you and the C.'s ; and it was 
 painful to be so suddenly aroused to the 
 reality of being in a far-off land. I would 
 not have you infer from this that I am dis- 
 contented or unhappy, for it is not so ; and 
 so long as I receive letters regularly, assur- 
 ing me that all is going on well with you, my 
 dreams of home and friends, whether in my 
 sleeping or waking hours, will only increase 
 my happiness. So God bless you all ! 
 
 November 25. I heard that the Duke of 
 Hamilton was at his place, about a dozen 
 miles from here ; so this morning I took 
 coach to go and see him ; but, to my great 
 disappointment, he was not at home. The 
 
226 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 palace is shown to visitors on Tuesdays and 
 Fridays ; so, as this is Wednesday, I could 
 not get in. I told the servant that I knew 
 the duke, and had painted a portrait of 
 him. Still I could not get the housekeeper 
 to break over the law. I started off, but 
 had not got more than twenty rods, when a 
 liveried servant, without a hat, came run- 
 ning after me, saying that Lady Douglas, 
 the duke's daughter, wished me to come 
 back, and see the palace. The housekeeper 
 had told her who I was. I spent an hour 
 or two in looking at the pictures. Some of 
 them are very fine. There are several Van- 
 dykes, and also the celebrated picture, by 
 Rubens, of the Lion's Den. The gems in 
 the way of furniture are most exquisite. 
 The tables and cabinets, inlaid with gold 
 and precious stones, are wonders in the me- 
 chanic arts. 
 
 The grounds are very extensive. From 
 the front door of the palace you look down 
 an avenue of trees about twenty rods in 
 width and a mile in length, and perfectly 
 level. The grass is as green as in midsum- 
 mer. Then such ornamental gardens, and 
 kept in such exquisite order ! They even 
 surpass ours at home ! The house, too, is 
 considerably larger than ours. It is about 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 227 
 
 four times as large as the State House at 
 Boston. We shall never see anything like it 
 in our country. If one could step from this 
 splendid pile into one of our fine houses in 
 Boston, the contrast would be enough to 
 curb the ambition of the proudest. The 
 main part of this splendid building is not 
 yet finished, though it was up to the first 
 story when I was here twenty-two years ago, 
 and the architect has been all the time at 
 work upon it. Everything about it is of the 
 most durable material. 
 
 The question naturally arises, whether the 
 owners of this princely mansion are any hap- 
 pier than those who live in more humble 
 dwellings. In this case, I believe many a 
 man who lives in a " ten-footer " is far hap- 
 pier than Hamilton with all his titles and 
 wealth. He and the duchess live in different 
 parts of the house, keep separate carriages, 
 and never travel together. There is this 
 comfort in their case, the house is large 
 enough for twenty families to live in it, with- 
 out elbowing each other. 
 
 December 8. Yesterday, I took the cars, 
 and went out to Lord Belhaven's place to 
 dine. His carriage was waiting for me. I 
 found a brilliant party of ladies and gentle- 
 men. The conversation at table was quiet 
 
228 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 and unambitious, and I at once felt entirely 
 at home. After dinner, Lady Belhaven was 
 entertaining me with some curiosities in the 
 drawing-room, when she came across a book 
 of pressed leaves from America, which, she 
 said, was a present from Mr. Everett. She 
 wished me to tell her if they were true to 
 nature : the colors were so brilliant that she 
 could hardly think they were. I not only 
 assured her they were so, but, what was 
 more, that some of them came from a tree 
 on my own place. I recognized the peculiar 
 coloring of the leaves on the maple by our 
 gate, and remembered when L. was visit- 
 ing you, and gathered them to send to her 
 uncle. 
 
 London, January 6, 1847. Presented 
 my letter to Mr. Rogers. He is an old man, 
 — I do not know how old, but I should 
 think at least eighty. He stoops a good 
 deal. He has a pale face, with fine head, 
 and features full of expression. I hope he 
 will sit to me for his portrait ; but all these 
 lions have been painted so often, that I 
 wonder how they can treat a painter with 
 decent respect. One of the greatest objec- 
 tions I have to becoming a great man is the 
 tax I should have to pay in time and pa- 
 tience to the painters and sculptors. So I 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 229 
 
 believe, on the whole, I won't become great. 
 If, however, I am ever doomed to that dis- 
 tinction, I will do my own painting. I think 
 some of anticipating that event by beginning 
 a portrait of myself at once, and sending 
 it to the Athenaeum. If I do commit such 
 a folly, I intend to paint it in a choker and 
 make it look as much like a gentleman as 
 the case will admit of. 
 
 January 8. I breakfasted to-day with 
 the author of "Italy." We sat down at 
 breakfast at half past ten. We had good 
 tea and coffee, eggs, and cold game, with a 
 variety of cold breads. In short, poets, that 
 is poet bankers, live very much like prose 
 bodies, for aught I can see. 
 
 Mr. Rogers is most charming in conversa- 
 tion. He is familiar with every subject both 
 in and out of letters. He admires Prescott 
 very much, and thinks him one of the best 
 writers in the English language. He thinks 
 Mr. Webster one of the greatest men living, 
 and idolizes Mr. Everett. 
 
 January 16. I have made a beginning 
 of the portrait of Mr. Eogers. It is very 
 troublesome, on account of his deafness, to 
 keep him animated. Once, to-day, he fell 
 asleep while sitting. 
 
 He l-emarked, in the course of conversa- 
 
230 CHESTER HABDING. 
 
 tion, upon the importance some painters at- 
 tach to the high finish of their hands. He 
 said they ought to be so disposed of as to 
 attract no notice, for it is considered the 
 height of ill-breeding to be found looking at 
 a person's hands or dress in company. What 
 would the good people of our country do, 
 if they were deprived of the privilege of 
 looking at the dresses, hands, and feet of the 
 company they are in ? 
 
 Mr. Rogers told me a story yesterday. He 
 told it so well, that I am afraid to attempt 
 to relate it ; but I will try to give you the 
 gist of it. 
 
 About forty years since, a clergyman in 
 Scotland married a young and beautiful 
 wife ; and hardly was she his, when she 
 died. He was overwhelmed with grief. The 
 night after she was buried in the family 
 tomb, he was sitting up late, and the wait- 
 ing-maid was watching her almost distracted 
 master, when he heard a knock at the door. 
 He exclaimed with great agitation, " That 
 is Mary's knock ! " It was repeated, and he 
 again cried out that it was Mary's knock ; 
 and again a third time. But the maid would 
 not go to the door. He at length opened 
 it himself, and Mary fainted in his arms. 
 The sexton violated the tomb ; and, in at- 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 231 
 
 tempting to wrench the wedding ring from 
 her finger, he aroused her from her trance. 
 The sexton fled ; and she found her way 
 home, and presented herself in her winding- 
 sheet, a living ghost, to her husband. 
 
 Imagine Allston telling the story, and 
 you will get a pretty good idea of Mr. Rog- 
 ers's manner. 
 
 The times are very inauspicious for my 
 work. Trade is dull ; and the fear of dis- 
 tress in England makes men stare at each 
 other, and wonder where it is to end. All 
 one hears or reads in the papers is so full of 
 the famishing Irish, that one almost wishes 
 one's self in the blessed United States. The 
 debates in Parliament, last night, give a 
 gloomy picture of the present, and offer lit- 
 tle hope for the future condition of that un- 
 happy country. It was stated that one fam- 
 ily subsisted, for several days, on a carrion 
 carcass of a horse that was so far decom- 
 posed that the crows had left it. It seems 
 that a great portion of the Irish ordinarily 
 live on potatoes, at this season of the year ; 
 that resource failing, they have nothing to 
 substitute for them, and have no money to 
 buy anything to keep body and soul to- 
 gether. Only think of the coroner sitting 
 on the dead bodies of twelve or fifteen in a 
 
232 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 day, in a small village, all of whom died of 
 hunger ! It is awful indeed. 
 
 February 25. I went to a small party 
 last night, at Mr. Bancroft's. He had a din- 
 ner-party; and, when I arrived, the gentle- 
 men were still at the table. I went in and 
 took a seat, and listened to an animated con- 
 versation between a Captain Wormley and 
 a Scotchman. There was something strik- 
 ing in the broad accent and the good sense 
 of the Scotchman, which attracted my at- 
 tention. After listening a while, I inquired 
 his name ; and who do you think he was ? 
 No less a person than Thomas Carlyle. I 
 was afterwards introduced to him, and had 
 a good deal of conversation with him. He 
 talks well, easily, and naturally, and without 
 the least tincture of Carlyleism. He has a 
 hard face, stiff hair, and, in short, is as un- 
 like the literary dandy as any farmer in the 
 land. 
 
 March 25. I am now just finishing the 
 picture of Lord Aberdeen. I must here 
 relate a little incident which is rather flat- 
 tering to me. We — that is, my lord and I 
 — were speaking of the Irish, the other day ; 
 and I remarked that the more that is given 
 in charity, the more will be expected, and 
 illustrated my views by a story, which was 
 
CHESTER BARBING. 233 
 
 this : I was riding on top of a stagecoach, 
 on Cape Cod, one cold February day, when 
 I espied a flock of sheep in the field, trying 
 hard to get something to eat from the frozen 
 ground. I said to the stage-driver, " Is it 
 possible these sheep run out all winter?" 
 " Yes." " Of course they feed them ? " 
 " No," said he, " they used to do so ; but 
 the farmers find when they feed them that 
 they won't help themselves, but only hang 
 about the pen and bleat all day. But, if 
 they are left to take care of themselves, 
 they manage to get a living, and come out 
 very well in the spring." The next time his 
 lordship gave me a sitting, he said that be 
 told my sheep story to Sir Robert Peel, at 
 the Queen's table ; and it struck him very 
 forcibly. 
 
 March 26. To-day was Drawing-room 
 at the Palace of St. James. I did not go, 
 because I was not " expected." I went, how- 
 ever, to see the pageant, but was just two 
 minutes too late to see the Queen arrive. 
 So I waited an hour and a half for her re- 
 turn. I took care to get a good stand, where 
 I was not more than twenty feet from where 
 she must pass ; and then waited with the 
 patience of a martyr. At last the royal 
 procession started. All were on tip-toe. I 
 
234 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 was tall enough without that resort. She 
 had come so near that I could just discern 
 a face in the carriage, when, most provok- 
 ingly, a life-guardsman rode alongside of the 
 carriage, and interposed his huge body just 
 between me and her Majesty, so that I only 
 saw her nose. I did not think the sight of 
 that feature worth the trouble I had taken ; 
 so I set it all down as a piece of mummery, 
 and went with my friend to see the new 
 Italian opera-house. 
 
 Mr. Rogers says the " New Timon " is 
 attributed to Bulwer. He does not seem to 
 think so much of it as you Yankees do. He 
 says Bryant or Longfellow are, either of 
 them, very much before that author, who- 
 ever he may be. He often speaks of Bryant 
 in very high terms, and" thinks it is to be 
 regretted that a man of such genius should 
 waste his energies in editing a newspaper. 
 
 Glasgow, April 17. I left London on 
 the 5th for this region. My friend C. ad- 
 vised me to come by steamer from Fleet- 
 wood. I dread the sea, particularly the 
 Channel. However, the weather was promis- 
 ing, so I booked for Fleetwood. It is a run 
 of twelve hours. We started at seven in 
 the evening, and had a very quiet night. 
 When we were within about an hour's sail 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 235 
 
 of our port, there came a heavy shower of 
 rain, accompanied with high wind. The sea 
 was almost immediately thrown into a ter- 
 rible commotion ; so much so, that the cap- 
 tain thought it unsafe to go into port, where 
 the water was shallow, at low tide. So we 
 put off twelve miles to the island of Arran. 
 The wind increased to a terrific gale. We 
 dragged our anchor several times before we 
 •fairly got settled. A boat, with four men, 
 came out from shore (where the water was 
 quite smooth, being under cover of the 
 mountain), making for the steamer; but, 
 as she neared us, she got into the wind, and 
 was blown out to sea at a fearful rate. The 
 captain pulled up anchor, and went after 
 them ; and, with much difficulty, got the 
 poor wretches on board. They were com- 
 pletely exhausted, and in a half-hour more 
 would in all probability have gone to the 
 bottom. Another two-masted, open fishing- 
 boat dragged her anchor, and was driven 
 out to sea ; but, fortunately, a steamer was 
 making for the port we lay in, and picked 
 them up. We lay here until two o'clock ; 
 and then, as it was high tide, we put out 
 for the port of our destination. But I can- 
 not describe to you the horrors of the scene : 
 it was perfectly awful. The wind blew as 
 
236 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 if it would blow our steamer out of the 
 water. The wind was partly on our side, 
 which made the ship lurch frightfully. One 
 wheel would be ten feet above the water, 
 while the other would be entirely covered. 
 But we had the most perilous part of our 
 voyage still before us. The channel to the 
 harbor is narrow, crooked, and rocky. I 
 never saw such breakers ! However, we es- 
 caped all the dangers ; and I never was so 
 glad to put myself on firm footing as when 
 I stepped on shore. We had many ladies 
 on board ; all were sick and terrified. Most 
 of the gentlemen were in the same plight. 
 I was not sick ; but I cannot say I was not 
 frightened. Half the town were on the 
 wharf to see us come in. We found the 
 railway train waiting, and in an hour we 
 were safe in Glasgow. 
 
 I remained in the city three days, and 
 then set off for the city of the " Fair Maid 
 of Perth." I spent four days there, and 
 had two days of salmonr&ahmg. I do not 
 know that I shall ever be able to bring my- 
 self down again to trout-fishing. But to the 
 sport. We fitted up and went into the boat, 
 and fished for an hour. We were beginning 
 to think we should have no sport, when, all 
 of a sudden, a salmon took my fly. Jehu ! 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 237 
 
 how I was excited ! But I tried my best to 
 keep cool, and finally succeeded in landing 
 him. He weighed sixteen pounds. This was 
 considered a great feat, as it is seldom a 
 man lands his first fish. I took two more 
 before night, and went home well satisfied. 
 The next day we had no right to fish for 
 salmon, so we took a tramp of ten miles, and 
 fished for trout ; but it seemed like child's 
 play. The day after, we tried the salmon 
 again, and I killed two more ; which was 
 doing more in two days than any sportsman 
 has done in a fortnight. I am told by Mr. 
 Stirling that I am talked of as much by the 
 gentry for my exploits as old " Rough and 
 Ready " is for his. But, above all, I am 
 glad to find my health improving. 
 
 May 8. This is the last letter you will 
 receive from me from London. I am booked 
 for the 4th of June. I am sorry to return 
 to the States without having seen more of 
 the Old World; but my means will not 
 allow of my making the grand tour. As I 
 have told you, my health has been such that 
 I have been able to paint but little for the 
 last three months, and it is too enormously 
 expensive to live in Europe without a pretty 
 liberal income. I sometimes fear I shall 
 have to give up painting altogether. I have 
 
238 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 great faith, however, in a little quiet living 
 at home, with my chicks about me. My 
 trouble is a tendency of blood to the head. 
 
 May 14. I went last night to see Jenny 
 Lind. I saw her in my favorite opera of 
 "La Sonnambula." She entirely came up 
 to my youthful imagination. I had no con- 
 ception before of perfect music and acting 
 combined, as one sees them in this Swedish 
 Nightingale. She acted the part of Amina 
 so perfectly, that it became reality. It is 
 impossible that she did not feel the senti- 
 ments she uttered, so completely would her 
 countenance and complexion change with the 
 passions of grief or joy or rage ; at times 
 being as pale as a ghost, and then fresh as 
 a rose. Her voice and execution are won- 
 derful. I never saw an audience, not even 
 at the Tremont Theatre when Mrs. Wood 
 was carrying everybody away, half so much 
 excited. Bouquets of flowers were showered 
 down on the stage, with shouts and waving 
 of handkerchiefs. When she addressed her- 
 self to the flowers, — 
 
 " Not thee, — of dear affection — 
 Are the sweet pledges," etc., 
 
 I thought we should all have gone mad. 
 The Queen and Prince Albert were there ; 
 hut they attracted no attention. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 239 
 
 During his stay in England, Mr. Harding 
 made two trips to Paris, mainly to visit the 
 picture galleries. The last one was upon 
 the occasion of the great annual exhibition 
 of modern pictures at the Louvre. 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 Me. Harding spent the winter of 1847- 
 1848, which followed his return from Eng- 
 land, in Washington, and there enjoyed a 
 renewal of his intimacy with Daniel Web- 
 ster, with whom he and the Hon. George 
 Ashmun, and one or two other gentlemen 
 who " messed " together, were in the habit 
 of dining two or three times a week. He 
 writes : " These family dinners were charm- 
 ing. We always found sumptuous fare, 
 though not elaborate. Often the great fea- 
 ture of the feast would be chowder or dun- 
 fish, in both of which dishes he excelled. 
 ... I had a few bottles of old Scotch 
 whiskey, snch as Wilson & Scott have im- 
 mortalized under the name of 'mountain 
 dew.' This beverage is always used with 
 hot water and sugar. I put a bottle of this 
 whiskey into my overcoat pocket, one day 
 when I was going to dine with Mr. Webster ; 
 but I thought, before presenting it to him, 
 I would see who was in the drawing-room. 
 I put the bottle on the entry table, walked 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 241 
 
 into the drawing-room ; and, seeing none 
 but the familiar party, said, ' I have taken 
 the liberty to bring a Scotch gentleman to 
 partake of your hospitality to-day.' ' I am 
 most happy, sir,' was the reply. I walked 
 back to the entry, and pointed to the bottle. 
 ' Oh ! ' said he, ' that is the gentleman that 
 bathes in hot water.' " 
 
 Later, Mr. Harding says, " I do think 
 him the greatest man I ever came in contact 
 with. He is not only full of wisdom and 
 delightful anecdote, but of that sort of play- 
 ful wit which startles the more, coming from 
 the same fountain, as it does, with the wisest 
 maxims that man ever uttered. With all 
 this eulogium, he is far from being a perfect 
 character. He lacks many of the essentials 
 requisite in the formation of the good man. 
 He lacks sympathy. He has the art of mak- 
 ing many admirers, but few friends." 
 
 It was during this winter that Mr. Hard- 
 ing painted the full-length portrait of Mr. 
 Webster which hangs on the wall of the 
 Athenaeum ; and also that of Henry Clay 
 which hangs in the City Hall in Washing- 
 ton. 
 
 TO J. M. K. 
 
 Washington, January 23, 1848. 
 Dear Son, — ... I suppose I am to paint 
 
242 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 Mr. Clay for the citizens of Washington, 
 unless he refuses to sit. The subscription 
 paper is circulating'. He is averse to sitting, 
 but he said in my presence, the other even- 
 ing, that " if the thing could not be stopped, 
 he should have to sit." I met him at a 
 party at Mr. Bodisco's (the Russian ambas- 
 sador), and it seems the mayor of the city 
 had spoken to him about the picture. As 
 I shook hands with him he said, " I learned 
 to-day, with some apprehension, that you 
 were in town." I can't blame him, for I 
 don't know a greater bore than to sit for a 
 portrait. 
 
 Washington is a very pleasant place for 
 the winter, in many respects. One meets 
 with the great men of the nation, and withal 
 the climate is good. I dined yesterday with 
 the Speaker, and met Governor Seward, 
 Senator Rives of Virginia, and a dozen 
 other lesser lights. Mr. Rives is full of 
 brightness and perhaps talent, but it strikes 
 me that Seward is the greater man of the 
 two. Webster is head and shoulders above 
 all the great men that I have met here. He 
 has more wisdom and wit and everything 
 that marks the great man than all of them 
 put together. I can, however, hardly draw 
 a just comparison between him and Mr. 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 243 
 
 Clay, from my own observation, as I know 
 so little of the latter. I have met Mr. "Web- 
 ster at small dinner and supper parties, and 
 I must say that he never appears greater 
 than when he throws off the great man. Mr. 
 Calhoun called on me the other day, and sat 
 and talked for an hour. He certainly talks 
 well, but his talk in private is only a sy- 
 nopsis of his talk in public, all charming, 
 but not so charming as Webster's volleys of 
 wit and wisdom, which are always happily 
 blended. 
 
 TO M. B. H. 
 
 Washington, May 3, 1848. 
 
 I left Baltimore last evening, and shall 
 return this evening. My business here is to 
 look after the pay for Mr. Clay's picture. I 
 fear the " look " will be comparatively fruit- 
 less. Many of the subscribers refuse to pay 
 up, on the ground that by his last letter he 
 has blasted his prospects for the nomination 
 and election. . . . 
 
 I shall leave Baltimore in a few days for 
 the North. Not that I have any designs 
 upon the poor, unsuspecting trout, for I 
 have a chance of doing a little in that way 
 in this region. Yet I like the climate of 
 the North, I like the people of the North, I 
 like my home at the North, and I mean to 
 go North very soon. 
 
244 CHESTER HATLDING. 
 
 The winter of 1848-49 was spent in Buf- 
 falo. The following little incident, which 
 occurred while there, amused Mr. Harding 
 highly, and he thus relates it : — 
 
 " I wrote to A. S. Upham, then senator, 
 from Genesee County ; and directed the 
 letter, as usual, to Hon. A. S. Upham. Mr. 
 Upham had been a wagon-maker ; and was, 
 like myself, a self-made man. He was at 
 this time engaged very extensively in car- 
 making for the New York Central Railroad. 
 As I did not receive an answer as promptly 
 as I expected, I wrote him another letter, 
 and directed to Mr. A. S. Upham, Wagon- 
 maker. This he answered at once, and di- 
 rected the letter to Mr. Chester Harding, 
 Sign and Chair Painter." 
 
 Although Mr. Harding continued to fol- 
 low his profession, during the winter months, 
 even to the last year of his life, his active 
 career as an artist began to decline from 
 this time. He says of this period of his 
 life : — 
 
 " As I find myself growing old, and my 
 family grown beyond my immediate care, I 
 vary my pursuits. I always had a passion for 
 field sports, and have, for the last twenty or 
 thirty summers, indulged more or less in 
 the pastimes of shooting and trout-fishing ; 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 245 
 
 and have found them healthful and inno- 
 cent. I have spent many seasons among the 
 White Hills ; and, in laber years, much of 
 my summer leisure has been spent at the 
 Saguenay, Lower Canada. This place is 
 becoming a resort for excursionists. It is 
 certainly a wonderful river, wonderful for 
 its depth and bold shores, and the shoals 
 of porpoises that are sporting in the tide. 
 Hundreds of the white porpoise may be seen 
 at almost any hour of the day. The scenery 
 on this river is grand. A Church or Bier- 
 stadt might revel in it. 
 
 " I wish to record my appreciation of the 
 hospitality I have received at the house of 
 Mr. Radford, for six consecutive summers. 
 He is the only Englishman living at the 
 mouth of the Saguenay. He fills the several 
 offices of magistrate, postmaster, and col- 
 lector of the port. All the inhabitants of 
 the neighborhood, with this exception, are 
 of the lower order of the French. Trout- 
 fishing is the principal amusement, with an 
 occasional fight with the salmon. One meets 
 many gentlemen sportsmen from Montreal 
 and Quebec. Altogether, I think this place 
 the most attractive, for the lovers of sport 
 and grand scenery, of any resort I have ever 
 visited." 
 
246 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 He spent his winters in some of the large 
 cities, as Boston, New York, Washington, 
 or St. Louis ; hut, though familiar with 
 them all, none seemed to him so much like 
 home, or claimed so large a share of his 
 affections, as Boston. He says : — 
 
 " I have been, from infancy, such a cos- 
 mopolite, that I can hardly claim any por- 
 tion of the United States as home ; yet I 
 feel that I owe more to Boston than any 
 other place ; more of my professional life 
 has been spent in that city than anywhere, 
 and it is around it that my most grateful rec- 
 ollections cluster. The liberal patronage 
 I have received, and the friendships I have 
 formed there, make the place dear to me. 
 The most liberal patronage I have enjoyed 
 has been, perhaps, from the Lawrences. I 
 have painted all of them, and many of their 
 children. My full-length portrait of Amos 
 Lawrence I consider the best thing I have 
 ever done in my whole artistic career. I 
 also painted a full-length of Abbott Law- 
 rence. 
 
 " I am proud to record my acknowledg- 
 ment of many kind , attentions from this 
 noble race of men. Their character for en- 
 terprise and their success are not more re- 
 markable than their noble bequests, as the 
 
CHESTEB HABDIJSG. 247 
 
 institutions of the State can attest; while 
 the poor of the city were not overlooked in 
 their bounties. Few men leave a prouder 
 record behind them." 
 
 The latter years of Mr. Harding's life 
 were overshadowed by anxieties growing out 
 of the War of the Rebellion. He was the 
 more oppressed by them, as he had four 
 sons in the contest ; two on each side. 
 Scarcely any record of this period remains, 
 however. The scanty extracts which are 
 appended may give some slight indication 
 of his views and feelings during the early 
 part of the struggle. No one rejoiced more 
 than he at the final cessation of hostilities. 
 
 TO H. H. 
 New York Hotel, December 21, 1860. 
 It seems that the first step in the march 
 of revolution was taken yesterday by South 
 Carolina, and I fear other States will take 
 the same insane course. Though there are 
 many loud -mouthed demagogues at the 
 North, there is yet a large majority in the 
 free States who are willing to do justice to 
 the South if they could be allowed time to 
 act in their legislatures. All the obnoxious 
 laws would be repealed, and I think the 
 North would be willing to give any addi- 
 
248 CHESTER HABDING. 
 
 tional guarantees to the South for the ful- 
 fillment of their constitutional obligations. 
 This rash step of South Carolina, however, 
 closes the door against amicable adjustment 
 of the troubles. What is to be the end of 
 it is beyond the sagacity of man to foretell. 
 We must wait the course of events with 
 what patience we can. I fear the dream of 
 peaceable secession will never be realized. 
 Once let the mad spirit of revolution loose, 
 and the most direful consequences are to be 
 dreaded. Still I hope on, though it is hop- 
 ing against hope. 
 
 TO J. M. K. 
 
 New York, August, 1861. 
 
 Things look a little better in Missouri, 
 when viewed from a distance ; how long 
 they may continue so remains to be seen. 
 The enemy is very sharp and no one can 
 guess their next move in your State. 
 
 The loss of Lyon was a serious one. We 
 have not many such to spare. I do think 
 that it was his own rashness that caused him 
 to fall. There were probably twenty rifles 
 levelled^ at him at once. Why should he 
 have made himself so conspicuous a mark 
 for the sharpshooters ? Why not have the 
 
CHESTER HABDING, 249 
 
 general in a less prominent place, with noth- 
 ing to attract the fire of the enemy ? . . . 
 
 I have just returned from Chateauguay 
 Lake. All the way to this place I saw 
 troops at the stations ; some just recruit- 
 ing, others on their way to join their regi- 
 ment in Boston or New York. There will 
 be no lack of men ; the question then comes, 
 have we enough of tried commanders ? Of 
 what use are the best of troops under in- 
 competent leaders ? 
 
 I expect to dine on Sunday next on a 
 haunch of venison which I killed and sent 
 home ten days ago. 
 
 to m. o. K. 
 
 September 2, 1861. 
 I am delighted with the course that Fre- 
 mont has marked out ; if he only will carry 
 it out, I shall be content. I fear, however, 
 it is like the rats that voted to have the cat 
 belled. It was thought an excellent move, 
 but who should bell the cat? I fear the 
 Rebels have got too strong a footing in Mis- 
 souri to be put down. To-day's paper gives 
 us the account of the taking of a fort in 
 North Carolina, the first move that has been 
 made without its being trumpeted to the 
 world, — to the enemy of course. 
 
250 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 TO W. O. W. 
 
 Springfield, December 25, 1862. 
 
 We hear from St. Louis often, but noth- 
 ing from the soldier boys. It would be 
 wonderful if we did not, before the strife is 
 over, hear something of a painful character ; 
 but let us hope for the best. The news from 
 the Western army is not very cheering, as 
 I view it, and what has come to us from the 
 Army of the Potomac is painful in the high- 
 est degree, and I fear is only a foreshadow- 
 ing of what is to come. Look at a regiment 
 of a thousand men marching in platoons 
 through the street ; — see what a show of 
 numbers! Imagine ten times that number 
 dead and dying on the battle-field, and one 
 will realize the horrors of war. I am too 
 deeply imbued with this sad subject to write 
 upon any less exciting topic. 
 
 Gold, as you will see by the papers, is 
 worth 59jfc premium; in other words one 
 dollar of currency is worth about forty 
 cents. How much lower it will go, no one 
 can tell." 
 
 TO M. E. W. 
 
 1864. 
 
 I am getting too old to enjoy city life. 
 I feel somewhat like the old woman who 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 251 
 
 was complimented on her youthful appear- 
 ance. " Oh, la," she said, " I am only fit for 
 the kingdom of heaven, and hardly that." 
 
 The last winter of Mr. Harding's life was 
 spent in St. Louis, with his children there. 
 During the winter, he painted a nearly full- 
 length portrait of Major-General Sherman ; 
 a^d the fidelity of the likeness and the 
 composition and finish of the picture were 
 pronounced equal to any he had ever painted 
 at any period of his life. He greatly en- 
 joyed the work himself, and derived great 
 pleasure from his acquaintance with his il- 
 lustrious countryman, of whom he thus 
 speaks, in a letter to a friend in Canada : — 
 
 "I am now painting General Sherman, 
 the real hero of the great war that has 
 ended. He is a sort of Wellington in his 
 appearance, small of stature, but full of 
 character, and every inch a soldier. He has 
 good and elevated notions of things, not 
 only military, but political. It is a pleasure 
 to have such a man before me, where I can 
 tell him to turn this way or that, and to come 
 at my bidding." 
 
 That the pleasure derived from this ac- 
 quaintance was in some degree mutual may 
 be seen from the following note, written upon 
 receiving news of Mr. Harding's death : — 
 
252 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 St. Louis, Mo., April 3, 1866. 
 Hon. J. M. Krum. 
 
 Dear Sir, — I have learned, with pain and 
 sorrow, the death of Chester Harding, artist. I 
 shall always remember the many pleasant, quiet 
 interviews with which I was so lately favored by 
 him, while painting my portrait ; and beg you will 
 consider me as one of his best friends. . . . 
 
 I beg to assure you of my deep and heart- 
 felt sympathy. Your friend, 
 
 W. T. Shekman, 
 
 Major- General. 
 
 Mr. Harding left St. Louis, in the month 
 of February, for his home in Springfield ; 
 but the journey proved a very severe one, 
 and undoubtedly made a serious draught 
 upon the strength of a man of his years. 
 He thus describes it in a letter to one of his 
 children : — 
 
 Spbingfield, February 27, 1866. 
 
 Deae M., — I am once more at home, 
 after the worst time mortal ever had on the 
 journey. I was snow-bound five days, during 
 the coldest weather I ever saw, and in the 
 poorest house that mortal ever slept in ; no 
 fire in my room, and none in the halls, with 
 windows that let the snow drift in. I could 
 only keep from freezing by piling on blan- 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 253 
 
 kets, my own shawl, and overcoat ; and then 
 I could not have my hand exposed outside 
 of the covering ; it would have frozen in 
 twenty minutes. I covered myself entirely, 
 and drew myself up, much as you can im- 
 agine a bear to do when he is burrowing in 
 midwinter. However, I am now all right. 
 ... I have a capital likeness of General 
 Sherman, which he sat for in St. Louis. I 
 think you would say at once that it is a 
 capital likeness, without ever having seen 
 the original. 
 
 I think this longer than the average of 
 my letters ; so I will conclude, with love to 
 W. and E., and am, 
 
 Yours, affectionately, 
 
 Chester Harding. 
 
 After his return to Springfield, he oc- 
 cupied himself with putting the last touches 
 to his picture of Sherman. Had he known 
 it was to be the last work of his hands, he 
 could not have labored on it with more care, 
 or looked upon it with more affection. The 
 pleasure and interest with which he used to 
 pursue his work, in his younger days, seemed 
 to have been aroused once more, as if to 
 vindicate the undying nature of those quali- 
 ties of mind and heart which constitute the 
 
254 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 artist. He put the finishing touch to the 
 picture, the day before he started on his last 
 journey to Boston. Some friend coming in, 
 he playfully pointed out to him a stream of 
 water he had introduced into the back- 
 ground of the picture, saying, " That is a 
 trout-brook ; and there," indicating the place 
 with his brush, " is the hole where the big 
 fellows lie." " You ought to paint yourself 
 there fishing," responded the friend. " No, 
 indeed," he replied ; " it would n't do for a 
 little fisherman to stand by the side of such 
 a big general." 
 
 The date of the following note shows that 
 one of the last acts of his life was a kindly 
 one. It was from a brother artist who was 
 struggling with ill-health and straitened cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 Spbihgfjeld, March 5, 1866. 
 
 Dear Mb. Habding, — My heart is too full 
 for words. I cannot express my thanks for the 
 very generous gift received from you yesterday. 
 The least I can say is, I thank you most sin- 
 cerely, and shall ever cherish the memory of one, 
 who alone can possess so generous a heart to 
 prompt to noble deeds. May the blessing of the 
 Lord that maketh rich be yours ! 
 Sincerely yours, 
 
CHESTER HARDING, 255 
 
 On March 27 he started for Boston, on 
 his way to Sandwich, on Cape Cod, which 
 was his favorite resort for trout-fishing in 
 the early spring. He was, apparently, in 
 good health and in fine spirits. On his way 
 to the station, he met a friend, and, shak- 
 ing his rod at him, called out, " Never felt 
 more like it in my life." He took a severe 
 cold on the journey and did not leave Bos- 
 ton the next day, as he had expected, al- 
 though he was able to go to his club in the 
 evening. His cold increasing, he was per- 
 suaded to send for a physician ; but no 
 alarm was felt, either by himself or his at- 
 tendants, with regard to his illness. When 
 asked if some of his family had not better 
 be notified of his illness, he said, " Oh ! no ; 
 it is not worth while." He was not confined 
 to his room until Sunday morning ; when, 
 after getting up and dressing himself, a 
 prostration so sudden and complete came 
 over him as to make it a matter of great 
 difficulty to get him on to his bed. From this 
 time he sank rapidly. His mind seemed to 
 sympathize with the weakness of his body ; 
 and he made no effort at conversation, and 
 made no sign of having any consciousness of 
 his situation. He breathed his last, April 1, 
 at ten o'clock, Sunday evening, before any 
 
258 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 of his children, who had been summoned at 
 the appearance of danger, could reach him. 
 His death was such as he had often hoped 
 for, sudden, painless, and before the failure 
 of physical or mental powers. 
 
 His remains were taken to Springfield, 
 and placed by the side of his faithful and 
 beloved wife, in the cemetery which he had 
 done much to adorn ; and where he had 
 seen gathered, one by one, most of that gen- 
 eration whose intellectual and social gifts 
 and friendship for himself had made the 
 place so attractive to him, when, thirty-six 
 years before, he had selected it for his 
 home. 
 
 His decease was announced to the public 
 by the following appreciative notice in the 
 " Evening Transcript " of April 2, 1866 : — 
 
 "We deeply regret to announce the death, at 
 the age of seventy-three, of Chester Harding, the 
 most venerable of American artists, and one of 
 the most eminent and accomplished. He died 
 last evening at his rooms in the Tremont House. 
 Few persons in the country were so widely 
 known, and so generally esteemed. A self-edu- 
 cated artist, who rose from the humblest begin- 
 nings to be the companion, as well as painter, of 
 nobles and statesmen, he had that innate gentle- 
 manliness which placed him on an equality with 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 257 
 
 every circle in which he moved, while he never 
 lost, in conventional society, the vigorous man- 
 hood which he had learned in the woods and 
 fields. 
 
 "It was impossible to see him without both 
 liking and admiring him ; he had in his heart, as 
 well as in his manners, that quality which wins 
 affection at the same time it inspires respect ; 
 and his constant regard for the rights and feel- 
 ings of others was his shield against any invasion 
 of his own. A duke who met him in a drawing- 
 room, a country lad who was his companion in a 
 fishing excursion, would find that his manhood 
 was broad enough for both. He visited England 
 twice ; and there was hardly a place in the 
 United States where he was not known. His 
 conversation was rich in recollections of eminent 
 men of all kinds in both hemispheres, while it 
 was absolutely untainted by self-assertion and 
 self-conceit. At one time we heard of him as 
 painting Daniel Webster at Washington ; and, 
 soon after, that he had started off to the wilds 
 of the West to paint Daniel Boone. One of his 
 last works was an admirable portrait of General 
 Sherman, which many of our readers will re- 
 member as among the finest things in the exhibi- 
 tion at the recent artists' reception. He had an 
 instinctive attraction for all manhood, no matter 
 what might be the field in which it was exer- 
 cised. 
 
 " The summers of his later years having been 
 
258 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 spent in many field exercises and sports, his old 
 age was so hale and vigorous, that the announce- 
 ment of his death will strike his friends with sur- 
 prise as well as pain. Few men could leave be- 
 hind them a more genial memory, or one which 
 will be more warmly cherished by a large circle 
 of friends." 
 
 One who had known him familiarly for a 
 few years preceding his death thus writes : — 
 
 " Mr. Harding won upon my heart, as I be- 
 lieve lie did that of every one, from the first ; and 
 he had that rare charm of manner which, while 
 thoroughly dignified, made every one feel at 
 ease ; there was no false pretension or hauteur 
 about him. His conversation was always rich 
 and instructive ; and, when with him, I invari- 
 ably heard something which I should have been 
 sorry not to know. 
 
 " Moving, as he had familiarly, in the highest 
 circles of rank and talent, he was singularly 
 modest ; and he seldom mentioned the distin- 
 guished people he had known, unless directly 
 asked about them. He never coupled a duke and 
 a dinner, nor prefaced a story with, ' When I was 
 abroad with the Princess Orbitella.' . . . 
 
 " His host of friends will bear a life-long testi- 
 mony to his virtues and accomplishments. These 
 attributes 
 
 Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.' 
 
 while his many masterly portraits will perpetuate 
 his name in American art." 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 259 
 
 " The late Chester Harding was not only a fin- 
 ished artist, himself, hut did much to aid and en- 
 courage others to perfect themselves in drawing 
 and painting. In 1841—1842, when in Boston, 
 he gave much encouragement to the formation 
 of ' The Artists' Association,' which, for the 
 time, created much interest, and drew together a 
 number of the then most successful as well as 
 many of the young aspiring artists, who had not 
 arrived at distinction in their profession. All- 
 ston was the acknowledged head, and Harding 
 came next in grade. 
 
 " Harding's gallery in School Street at that 
 time became a popular place of artistic resort ; 
 and many will remember it as the scene of the 
 revival of the arts in Boston. 
 
 " Harding was very fond of trouting, and gen- 
 erally visited the White Mountains once a year, 
 usually taking the stage to Conway and fishing 
 up the Saco to the elder Crawford's, where he 
 rested a day or two, and then branched off upon 
 collateral streams, bringing home a well-filled 
 basket of trout each night for a week. Some- 
 times he went to the Cape with like success, and 
 would walk twenty miles a day to skim the 
 brooks of their speckled tribe. Sometimes he 
 wore high rubber boots, but generally waded in 
 old leathers, with feet soaking ten hours at a 
 time." — Springfield Republican. 
 
 " He had rare gifts of conversation, he at- 
 tached his friends to him most warmly, he had 
 
260 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 a spirit of insight for discovering character, and 
 an appreciative sense of the true, the beautiful, 
 and the good. He was the Daniel Webster of 
 his art, with like massiveness and compass of 
 nature." — Boston Transcript. 
 
 N. P. Willis, in " The Home Journal," 
 thus alludes to the impression Mr. Harding 
 made during his first visit to England : — 
 
 " Years afterward, I became a guest at Gor- 
 don Castle ; and there, strangely enough, my best 
 authority with the Duchess of Gordon, and the 
 brilliant ladies who formed the court around her, 
 was my assured intimacy with Harding the artist. 
 Her ladyship's first question was of the ' prairie 
 nobleman,' as they described this Western artist ; 
 and whom they considered a splendid specimen 
 of a most gifted man, the American chance vis- 
 itor to their titled circle, and the painter of some 
 of their most distinguished portraits, a few years 
 before. Visitor as I was on that same visit to 
 Scotland, at Dalhousie Castle, I found my in- 
 troduction everywhere the best, as the 'young 
 friend of Harding the Artist.' 
 
 " Harding's portraits, painted during his first 
 visit to England, are all memorable. They have 
 been treasured, I believe, as masterpieces, both 
 of drawing and color, while the conceptions of 
 character have been considered so felicitous as to 
 be copied for reproduction in this country. 
 
 "I shall give to our readers a treasure, if I 
 
CHESTER BABDING. 261 
 
 transcribe a copy of an autograph letter from 
 Harding, as it spreads open before me at this 
 moment, describing one of these : — 
 
 " September 2. 
 
 " Dear Willis, — I have a portrait of the 
 Duke of Hamilton which I wish to present to 
 you. I should like to have it hang in your li- 
 brary. There is nothing in particular, of a his- 
 toric character, attached to the original. But 
 the fact that I painted it at a time in my life 
 when my enthusiasm and ambition in art were 
 at their highest, and it being the crowning point 
 of my success as an artist in England, I hope 
 will give it some value in your estimation. It 
 gave me more applause, both in Edinburgh and 
 London, than any picture I ever painted. It 
 was exhibited in Edinburgh, and at the Royal 
 Academy in London, and very flattering notice 
 of it was taken in both cities. I have never 
 been more fortunate in the coloring of a head, 
 nor do I now think of any contemporary artist 
 who has much surpassed it. Don't set this down 
 as vanity. I can look at it as I would at any 
 other antique, — and my ambition is that it may 
 be placed where it will be appreciated. 
 
 " With kindly regards to your lovely wife and 
 children, I am your friend, 
 
 "Chester Harding." 
 
 The " Boston Post " said of him : — 
 
 " He ranked with the representative painters 
 
262 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 of America and in him American art was made 
 honorable at home and respectable abroad. When 
 most who are now turned of ripe age were chil- 
 dren, Harding was engaged in painting on dur- 
 able canvas hosts of private men of worth, and an 
 illustrious band of the public men associated in 
 public life at Washington and elsewhere. If from 
 the artist we turn to the man, we shall find enough 
 to justify abundantly the strong hold he had upon 
 private affection and individual esteem. He was 
 a man every way free of reproach, and in all 
 respects entitled to esteem, and fitted to inspire 
 love. He was the father of a numerous family, 
 now grown to manhood and womanhood, and 
 settled successfully in various parts of the coun- 
 try. To them this blow will come with stunning 
 effect. But his title to love and veneration were 
 not limited to his relatives and his family. All 
 who knew him loved him. He was of kindly, 
 social feeling, and, for one of his years, convivial 
 and jovial. He was ever young in his feelings 
 and fresh in his views, and liberal in his opinions. 
 Age rested gracefully upon him. His flowing 
 white locks added a venerable aspect to his portly 
 and commanding presence. He was not a pro- 
 fessed scholar, nor a great reader beyond his art, 
 or even in that ; for he believed in the inspira- 
 tion of artistic genius, rather than the studies of 
 the closet. Although master of the great prin- 
 ciples of his art, he needed only the human face 
 divine and the pencil of his own genius to give 
 
CHESTER HARDING. 263 
 
 life to the moving canvas. Hence he belonged 
 to the order of original artists. He copied no 
 man, and he flattered no man. He aimed in his 
 art to be truthful, accurate, and just, hence he 
 did not always please the vain nor satisfy the 
 proud. A younger order of artists also were 
 accustomed to complain that he fell behind the 
 progress of art rather than kept pace with it. 
 The modern innovations of mechanical painting 
 of the human face, also, served somewhat to in- 
 terfere with his eminence in the later years of 
 his life. These annoyances from time and pro- 
 gress he bore with the spirit of a true artist. He 
 knew that his fame was embodied in durable 
 material, and that time, which interfered for the 
 moment with his revenues and his popularity, 
 would do justice to the great productions of his 
 pencil. He knew that canvas, if less durable 
 than bronze or marble, has somewhat of a hold 
 upon immortality and will reach the judgment of 
 posterity." 
 
 The " Springfield Eepublican " says : — 
 
 " As a portrait-painter, he was one of the first 
 in point of excellence that America has ever pro- 
 duced ; and, in his time, he was the first, without 
 dispute. . . . Nor had age dimmed his power, 
 though it had tempered his ambition, and checked 
 his industry ; he, only last week, gave the finish- 
 ing touches to a remarkable likeness of Gen- 
 eral Sherman, which he began in St. Louis, dur- 
 
264 CHESTER HARDING. 
 
 ing the past season, from pure enthusiasm for the 
 soldier and the man. It is among the finest of 
 his works, and can hardly he excelled hy any 
 other likeness for spirit and fidelity. . . . Spring- 
 field knew him longest, loved him best ; and she 
 is proud that, since death must come to him, his 
 ashes are to repose in her bosom." 
 
 At a meeting of the artists of Boston, to 
 take notice of the death of Chester Harding, 
 the following resolutions were unanimously 
 adopted : — 
 
 "Resolved, That we lament the loss of our 
 brother artist, Chester Harding, who, for more 
 than thirty years, has been to the elder of us a 
 genial companion, and noble and generous rival ; 
 to the younger, a sympathizing friend and a 
 worthy example, to the community in which he 
 lived, an esteemed citizen ; an exemplary hus- 
 band and father, who has furnished to posterity, 
 by his graphic and prolific pencil, representations 
 of men of the day, and illustrations of contem- 
 porary history, which only posterity can properly 
 value, but which have already placed him high 
 in the ranks of American art. 
 
 " Resolved, That we shall cherish the memory 
 of his manly presence, and his generous and es- 
 timable qualities of head and heart."