6 ^°-n^. «-^^^ * «7 '^ • °- ,**'..l'^-.\ C°*.i^.>o /.'^i^-^ /•• "5 ♦•-i:^'* > v' •:• *<* V* ♦ •- ^^^CS^ ^<^X^'''. ^O^ ^^M^r.\ ^J^c^ oV*^^». ^^^-^ vV * aV *^ <6o^ &^ f .C WILLIAM DE MORGAN AND HIS WIFE /ETAT 70 ff-om a p/xotiHft-iifj/i ly utkeL iJLazfl'rwk WILLIAM DE MORGAN AND HIS WIFE BY A. M. W. STIRLING Author of "Coke of Norfolk," etc. IVii/t a Preface by the late Sir William Richmond, K.C.B., R.A. *Mr. De Morgan is a national institution ; and one would as soon tliink of criticising the Bank of England as of criticising one of his novels.' — Literary Supplement of The Times NEW YORK HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 1922 AUTHORIZED EDITION PRINTED w V. S. A. To BOTH * Have you ever picked a sheaf of brilliant autumn leaves, glowing like transparent rubies in the sunlight, and carried them home to your dim room ? If you have, you have known that which I felt. Where was the glow, the glory, the crimson flame ? All gone. . . . ' And just so from my written words had faded the rich glow that shone around them in my fancy when they were still umvritten. Alas ! the leaves — the words — were alike worthless by themselves.' From Generation to Generation. By Lady Augusta Noel. • It is the best thing on Earth — that incessant struggle. . . . Art is more important than you think. But it must be earnest, grim Ufe-earnest- ness that has no tincture of gain in it or love of earth-fame, only the strength of one's arm, and the whole power of one's being is to be given to it ; and to look neither to the right nor to the left, but go straight on doing the best that is in one.' The Result of an Experiment. PREFACE WILLIAM AND EVELYN DE MORGAN By an Old Friend (The late Sir William Richmond, R.A.) I AM not sure if it was in the autumn of 1859 or the spring of i860, when I was working in the schools of the Royal Academy, that a tall, rather gaunt young man arrived as a nouveau, who excited among us of a term's seniority some interest. He was an original, that was evident at starting. His capacious forehead denoted power, his grey eyes tenderness, his delicately formed nose refinement, and his jaw strength. But the commanding characteristic was unmistakably humour. He spoke with a curious accent, his voice, as if it had never quite settled to be soprano or bass, moved with flexibility up and down the scale, and every sentence was finished with a certain drawl. This was a trait caught by many of Rossetti's friends. This youth was William de Morgan, son of the celebrated mathema- tician and his wife, a distinguished lady, highly cultivated, intimate friend of Carlyle and other leaders of the thought of the times, and much loved by her friends. He came into the schools at a brilliant moment. Fred Walker, that delicately organized genius, was his senior by one term. Albert Moore, perhaps the most classic painter of the time, was already drawing with great taste in the schools and making noble designs, some pre-Raphaelite, some classical. Andrew Donaldson promised much as a student. Henry Holiday was precocious ; but the greatest genius of our set was S. Solomon, that wonderful little Jew who might have risen to any height of distinction if he had chosen to encourage his great gifts. I was the youngest of the group which was composed of ardent young men furnished with ability and determination to labour hard to deserve dis- tinction. It was in this coterie that William De Morgan found himself welcomed. From the day I first shook hands with him till the last, when he sat beside me in sickness, we were close and staunch friends. As an Academic artist he did not count for much : his genius did not lie in a groove or grooves. His early work was as a designer for stained glass ; I have seen some very interesting 9 10 PREFACE work from his hand in that difficult branch of the art into which incompetence too often strays and where genius is so rarely visible. De Morgan, as a son of a great man and a very popular and highly esteemed mother, was early thrown into the intellec- tual blue. Well grounded at King's College {sic) he was a fair classical scholar, but it was not in any portion of his character created by education that he was remarkable. Pre-eminently he was original, entirely uncommonplace. He had a quaint invention, he took a quaint view of everything. He was a master of the unexpected, a creator of paradox, a serious humorist. A very delicate constitution forbade athletics of all kinds. His body had to beware of excess, his mind could adroitly play with it. Public opinion he cared for not a jot ; he was his own critic in as much as he always strove for perfection. The progress of his mind was swift as well as persistent ; a bit of wire, a bit of wood provided hours of enjoyment for his creative mind, one moment dwelling on a vast scheme for fiying or under-water piracy, another in adding some dehcacy to the construction of his bicycle. His extreme ingenuity may have been not altogether an advantage, it made him jump from one subject to another with too facile dexterity. He was not what is commonly called brilliant, it was natural rhetoric ; he never talked for effect. So simply and oddly was his very simple mind arranged that he could play with his ideas and command them to quaintness or paradox, as he wished, without ever rendering them ridiculous. In this respect De Morgan was Dickens's equal, the Dickens that he knew so well and so deeply admired, but with no plagiarism. As Dickens's characters are his and only his, so are De Morgan's. Nobody else has ever made quainter people to sa}^ quainter things, which, however, are never forced but just bubble out as the stream of a character moves on. De Morgan's wTiting has been compared with Thackeray's, but surely on close investigation there is little if any similarity. De Morgan was in no sense a satirist : he was a humorist, he was no cynic, he was a playful, wayward optimist who saw kindly, conceived generously, and was much nearer comedy than tragedy. Pathos there was, but of a type quite his own ; not of the stage one bit, but entirely employed in a kind of unconscious manner out of the character he was manipulating with such quaint Unes and elaborate byplay. Literature, or rather novel writing, is, on the whole, more universally estimated and valued than any other form of Art by the general public ; it is therefore likely that De Morgan will live in the future more by reason of his writings than his designs or superb pottery. He will live among his friends as a delightful companion, a queer unexpected talker, not exactly brilliant, but fantastic, if child-like, by reason of a certain siraphcity which took PREFACE II for granted he could never be a bore, and he never could be, for, clever as he was, ready tongued as he was, a freshness was always maintained which one knew to be quite spontaneous, unaffected and sincere. His Wife and He Although WiUiam De Morgan was complete as a personality in which each part bore relation to the whole, he was made even more highly finished by the remarkable woman he married and who outlived him but for a short time. I knew her before her marriage, both in London and in Florence, where she lived so much with her uncle, Spencer- Stanhope, who no doubt was her guide, philosopher and friend in most things, and to whose influence was certainly due the direc- tion that her great gifts as a draughtsman and painter took. It is seldom that a marriage is absolutely successful, where the road of life taken is so similar, where the temperaments are completely in accord, and where no commonplace rubs against life's sharp and tiresome edges ever occur. Evelyn and William De Morgan were absolutely one: one in sympathy, in intelligence and its direction, one in tastes, and in perfect companionship. They teased and chaffed one another as school-boys do, they were amused at each other's idiosyncrasies, and I verily believe amused also at their mental similarity. He believed in her Art and she in his. They were both artistic in the highest sense, and where the business capacity came in is a puzzle to every one. She had more than he. His capacity as a business man was probably nil, hers was only a little more than nil ; but her money was his, and, with what is often called generosity, she gave it up, as all his and her friends know, to save crashes and to make one more glorious pot. It is not for me to relate her life, it is written in this book ; its splendid dedication to Art and to her husband, her constant going on fighting non-success, always making fresh efforts to achieve perfection of finish and technique as noble as it was strong, as consistent as constant. If her later work is sometimes overcharged with detail, a little over-weight, Evelyn De Morgan was a finished artist of no mean quality. In their respective spheres, he had the humour, the irresponsibility ; she supplied sometimes an almost austere integrity and a conscientiousness, carried sometimes so far as to mask slightly the spontaneity of her just conception. She drew beautifully ; indeed, the many volumes which remain containing drawings of the nude, and draperies, flowers, leaves — in short all things inanimate — are, perhaps, the most complete efforts of her genius. . . . 12 PREFACE Thus far had Sir William Richmond written when death inter- vened, and this unfinished tribute to his friends remains the last thing ever traced by his pen. He had, according to what he once mentioned to the author, intended to dwell at far greater length on the arresting personality of Evelyn De Morgan, on her achievement as an artist, especially on the marvel and the purity of her colouring, and on her rich inspira- tion. Yet the faithfulness of both incomplete portraits, drawn thus in a few facile words, will be apparent to all who knew those of whom he writes : while in this connexion, as certain of his observations may he found duplicated in the volume which follows, it should be men- tioned that the preface was designedly written without its writer having seen the work of the biographer ; and vice versa. Only in one particular, however, is a brief elucidation perhaps desirable. The austerity of which he speaks in connexion with Evely7i refers solely to her earnestness in regard to work. Both in art and literature, De Morgan's spontaneity and his happy-go-lucky methods — equally the outcome of a great sincerity — contrast with her profound and studied conscientiousness : but apart from work, the sense of humour shared by both was one of their 7nost marked characteristics. Evelyn had a quick wit, an irrepressible sense of the ludicrous, and a rare gift as a raconteuse. Even in her most serious mood, her sense of fun would not be suppressed, and a jest, known only to the initiated, peeps from the canvas of her gravest con- ceptions. To both of them, if life proved, in much, a sorry struggle owing to their disinterested pursuit of an Ideal, combined with their entire lack of worldly wisdom and self-advertisement, it was, in more, a merry adventure to be regarded with laughter in the present and a somewhat misty but enduring hopefulness for that Future which no man can fathom. When, late in middle-age, success came to De Morgan, he rejoiced in it with the simplicity and the freshness of a child. To Evelyn all celebrity was hateful, and she valued appreciation only as it proved an incentive to greater effort. Work, to her, was the joy of existence, and she laboured — voluntarily, unceasingly — from the cradle to the grave. ' I knew them for twenty years,' relates one friend, ' and I never heard her mention her painting. ' She had an exquisite and a retiring mind,' her obituary stated when that life-work was done. It is unusual to find two people, so gifted and so entirely in harmony in their art, who acted and re-acted on each other's genius. Their romance is one before which the pen falters : but which, never- theless, was an abiding factor in all they have left to the world : and Sir Edward Poyntcr, P.R.A., looking after De Morgan and his wife one day, as they left his beautiful garden, epitomized the impression created by their presence. 'There,' he said, 'go two of the rarest spirits of the Age.' AUTHOR'S NOTE THE author wishes to express her sincere thanks to all who have aided her in procuring material for the following work. In America her thanks are due to many unknown but valued friends ; particularly to Professor Lyon Phelps for his assistance and cordial sympathy ; to Mr. Louis Joseph Vance for the in- teresting letters he lent ; to Miss Olive Russell and others for their contributions of some charming correspondence. In England the author's thanks are primarily due to Miss May Morris ; to Mr. Reginald Blunt, Mr. Halsey Ricardo and Mr. Shaw Sparrow for the correspondence and information they supplied respecting the manufacture of the pottery ; to Mr. Richard De Morgan and Mr. Walter Kelsall for assistance with the early history of the family ; to Mr. Amherst Tyssen for the extracts from his diary ; to Professor and Mrs. Mackail, and to Mr. Henry Holiday and his family for many delightful letters and anecdotes. Thanks are also due to Mary, Countess of Lovelace ; to Miss F. Seeley, Mrs. Spencer Pickering, and Mr. Herbert Russell-Cotes for permission to reproduce pictures in their posses- sion ; to the authorities of the Victoria and Albert Museum for their leave to publish photographs of the De Morgan pottery in their charge ; and to Mrs. E. Smith {nee Ethel Glazebrook) for the fine photograph taken by her of William De Morgan. The author also wishes to express her thanks to the editors of the Burlington Magazine, the Bookman, the Cornhill, the Manchester Guardian, Printer's Pie, The World's Work, and the New York Herald for their great courtesy in allowing her to quote from articles which have appeared in their publications : likewise to Mr. Pawling for having kindly placed at her disposal Mr. De Morgan's correspondence with the late Mr. Wilham Heinemann. Her gratitude is also due to many others who have aided her materially by contributing correspondence or information, par- ticularly to the following : Mrs. Alhngham, Mr. Stewart EUis, Deaconess Gilmore (the sister of William Morris), Mr. H. de T. Glazebrook, Lady Glenconner, the Rev. Augustus De Morgan Hensley, Mrs. Horatio Lucas, Mr. Walter De Morgan, Mr. Scott- Moncrieff, Mrs. Bram Stoker, Mrs. G. F. Watts, Mrs. HughWoolner, 13 14 AUTHOR'S NOTE etc. ; and to Mrs. Edward Carpenter and Mr. Lionel Bradgate M.A., of Trinity College, Oxford, for kindly reading the proofs.' If, however, among the great number of those who have written to her from all parts of the world it has been impossible to mention categorically the names of aU to whom she is indebted or for lack of space to make use of some of the interesting material which they provided, she trusts they will understand that in writing this book (an endeavour to compress into one volume 'the story of two full and many-sided lives), she has suffered consider- ably from what William De Morgan termed ' the true writer's cramp.' and that they wiU forgive her sins of omission as weU as 01 commission. LIST OF CONTENTS Preface. By the late Sir William Richmond, R.A. CHAP. WILLIAM DE MORGAN I Ancestry and Parentage • • . . II A Nursery Journal . . . . . III The Old Man's Youth . . . IV The Chelsea Period • . . . V The JVIerton Period . , . . EVELYN DE MORGAN VI The Story of the Pickerings . V,I Pen-drift {to be omitted by the captious). VIII The Thorny Way . . . . WILLIAM AND EVELYN DE MORGAN IX The Fulham Period X Joseph Vance XI The Man and the Method XII ' Alice ' and ' Sally ' Kill The ' Real Janey ' XIV ' Blind Jim ' and ' Lucinda XV Several ' Unlikely Stories XVI ' The Young Man's Old Age ' XVII The 'Long Diminuendo' Index . • . • • and ' Ghosts' PAGB 9 21 38 51 82 102 153 173 199 230 261 276 308 313 336 359 377 391 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS FULL PAGE William De Morgan, aetat. 76 (in Photogravure) Frontispiece FACING PAGE . . 56 . 72 . . 84 The Sons of Professor De Morgan . . . . „ Sketch in imitation of Caravaggio, by E. Burne-Jones The Alchemist's Daughter, picture by William De Morgan . Tile, by William De Morgan, in the possession of Mr. Ilalsey Ricardo 88 Lustre bottle, by William De Morgan ..... 96 Letter written by William De Morgan to his cousin. Miss Fanny Seeley . . . . . . . . , . 104 Lustre bowl, by William De Morgan ...... 120 A Peacock, a dish ......... 126 Boreas and the Dying Leaves, picture by Evelyn De Morgan • 136 A Panel of Six Tiles 150 The Daughters of the Mist, picture by Evelyn De Morgan . • 160 The Storm-Spirits, picture by Evelyn De Morgan . , • 166 The Mater Dolorosa, sculpture by Evelyn De Morgan . .,• 176 Medusa in bronze, sculpture by Evelyn De Morgan . . . 186 Aurora Triumphans, picture by Evelyn De Morgan . . • 192 Love's Passing, picture by Evelyn De Morgan .... 200 Vase in gold and silver lustre, by William De Morgan . . 216 The god Pan, in pottery, by William De Morgan , . . 224 The pottery marks, and a panel in relief, by William De Morgan 228 Saint Christina giving her father's jewels to the poor, picture by Evelyn De Morgan . . ..... 232 The Little Sea-maid, picture by Evelyn De Morgan . . . 240 The Five Mermaids, picture by Evelyn De Morgan . . .. 248 The Valley of Shadows, picture by Evelyn De Morgan . . 260 William De Morgan, from a photograph ...... 264 'Persian" Vase ......... 272 \n Antelope ...... 9 .. . 284 17 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAGE Queen Eleanor and Fair Rosamund, picture by Evelyn De Morgan 296 The Sleeping Earth and Wakening Moon, picture by Evelyn De Morgan 308 The Garden of Opportunity, picture by Evelyn De Morgan . . 310 The Poor Man who saved the City, picture by Evelyn De Morgan 312 Portrait of William De Morgan, by Evelyn De Morgan . . 316 No. I, The Vale, Chelsea, from a photograph ..... 320 Helen of Troy, picture by Evelyn De Morgan .... 344 The Worship of Mammon, picture by Evelyn De Morgan . . 358 The Moonbeams dipping into the Sea, picture by Evelyn De Morgan 368 Headstone for the grave of William De Morgan, designed by Evelyn De Jvlorgan .....,,.,. 376 In Memoriam, picture by Evelyn De Morgan . ,. . ., 386 ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT PAGE Composite monogram for himself and his wife, designed by William De Morgan ..... Below dedication Sketch by William De Morgan of Eagle and Rabbit ... 14 " An Earl riding on a Caterpillar," sketch by William De Morgan 50 Mrs. Bale, pen-sketch by William De Morgan, setat. 16 . -55 Sketches by E. Burne-Jones for the game of " Cartoons " 66, 67, 68, 69, 70 Signature of E. Burne-Jones ....... 72 Sketch in pencil by William De Morgan, " At the Stores " . . loi Sketch by William De Morgan entitled " The Present Shape of the Wellington Statue" . . . . . . .119 Sketches by William De Morgan in a letter to Margaret Burne- Jones .......... 123, 124 Sketch by William De Morgan in a letter to E. Burne-Jones, "Data" 130 Pencil sketch in a note-book by William De Morgan, " Une De- mande en Mariage" ........ 131 " Hanging Day," a sketch in pencil by William De Morgan . . 152 "James Lee's Wife," sketch in a note-book by William De Mor- gan after reading Robert Browning ..... 307 Two-legged dragon tail-piece, by William De Morgan . . . 335 WILLIAM DE MORGAN CHAPTER I ANCESTRY AND PARENTAGE 1710-1839 THE immediate ancestors of William De Morgan are described as Anglo-Indians, although they were of French descent. Unfortunately Colonel De Morgan, his grandfather, sent all the family documents on board a ship bound for England, called the Pondicherry, which went to the bottom ; and among the papers which then perished were some of great interest dating prior to the period when the Edict of Nantes forced the Huguenot De Morgans to fly from their native country. The publication of Mrs. Penny's history of Fort St. George recalled to William De Morgan a fact which he had then forgotten, namely that his great-great-grandfather, John De Morgan, was a native-bom Frenchman who married a French wife, and that this man's son Augustus, by birth a Frenchman, married a Dane ! ' However,' was William's comment, ' we are English enough now ! ' There are many Celtic names still to be found with the French prefix in Brittany and Normandy ; but the practice of inscribing the ' De ' with a capital letter has become distinctive of this particular branch of the De Morgan family. An apparently apocryphal story runs that William's father, the celebrated mathematician, Professor De Morgan, declared emphatically that he was an Englishman, and that if there was, unluckily, a foreign prefix attached to his name, it should be treated as part of the surname. On one occasion Sir John Herschel, writing to him, apologized for enclosing a letter in which the correspondent referred to him as ' the well-known de Morgorgon,' to which the Professor replied : — ' As to the little dees, and Morgorgon, it is not the first time ! — My old friend Parish (the Professor's son) could not call me anything else ! — It went against his conscience to the day of his death. " But why is the gentleman not called de Morgorgon ? " — I am constantly tempted to make a mistake in one Greek name because in the second-hand book hsts it always comes after mine. Look in any book-list of a miscellaneous character, and you will see the following : — De Moivre De Morgan De Mosthenes.' 21 22 WILLIAM DE MORGAN The record of the paternal forefathers of William De Morgan, however, as far as this can now be traced, shows them to have been possessed of war-like propensities rather than any inclination towards literature or art. John De Morgan, previously referred to, presumably impoverished by the misfortunes of his family, is supposed to have followed a practice much resorted to at that date by men of birth and education, great numbers of whom entered the service of the East India Company as private soldiers in order to secure what was otherwise almost impossible of attainment — a passage out in the Company's ships; their subsequent objective being to gain a Commission by passing through the ranks. John is said to have dropped the De, which his son afterwards revived, and landing in India July ii, 1710, from on board the Bouverie, he became Sergeant in the garrison of Fort St. George. In 1715 he was made Ensign for his bravery in action, and later he became Governor of Forts St. David and Ajengo, occasionally acting in the same capacity at Fort St. George. When he retired in 1748, he was the first military man to be granted a pension for long and distinguished service ; and he died, a fine old veteran, in 1760, his burial taking place in Publicat, where his tomb, with its Latin epitaph, may be seen in the quaint Dutch cemetery. While still an Ensign, John De Morgan had married twice, both wives being French women, but only by the second, Mrs. Turbevdlle,^ did he have issue, a family of five daughters and four sons. The former were perhaps remarkable for the fact that they all married, the eldest three times, and three out of the remaining four twice ; so that innumerable descendants soon existed of the veteran, John De Morgan, many of whom likewise gave their services to promote the w^elfare of the British Empire in India. Of his sons, however, only one survived him, Augustus, bom in 1739, who became an officer in the Artillery and married Christina, the Danish lady before mentioned, a daughter of the Rev. Conrade Huttemann. This young pair were foredoomed to tragedy. Christina died in 1774, and, three months after, her infant son was buried in the same grave in a lonely fort at Ganjam. Four years later, her husband, then aged thirty-nine, with two other officers, was blo\vn up in a battery at the taking of Pondicherry, a name which seemed of ill-omen to his family. ' The name, according to the laxity in spelling of those days, is entered variously as Turville and Tivill in the records. John Tivill was ' Chief ' of Masulipatam, our first settlement on tlie coast of India ; but property belonging to the Tubervilles, was left in the charge of St. Mary's Vestry, and Mrs. John De Morgan's grandson claimed this property as heir at law, and made good his claim. ANCESTRY AND PARENTAGE 23 A curious story has been told in connexion with Captain De Morgan's death. It is said that, on the morning of the fatal day, he distinctly foretold that he and his two companions would perish in the engagement which was about to take place. Further, so convinced was he of the truth of his prediction, that he made his will which, in confirmation of the tale, bears the date of his decease. This story has been cited as a remarkable instance of the fulfilment of a presentiment, but a little investigation robs it of its uncanny element. The fact was that Captain De Morgan, a clever and observant officer, had noted that the battery which he was to command was unduly exposed owing to its faulty con- struction. He represented this to the engineer officers and to the Commander-in-Chief without avail ; the engineers denied the truth of his statement and the Commander sided with them. So Captain De Morgan went bravely to his death, aware that the engagement must end fatally for himself and his two companions who were posted with him, and in the disaster which occurred his head was severed from his body by a cannon which bore the euphonious name of ' Sweet-lips. ' But it was left to his grandson, many years later, to remark what was actually the curious aspect of the story — that a gallant soldier constantly exposed to death, did not consider any danger save a flaw in engineering to be a sufficient reason for making his will ! Of the three sons of that ill-starred couple — the Frenchman Augustus and his Danish wife — two lived to man's estate. Both entered the army ; George Augustus, the elder, who was in the Madras Cavalry, took part in an action against Tippoo's troops in 1792, and disappeared. His body was never found, but nothing was ever heard of him subsequently. The other surviving son, John, born in 1772, became an officer in the 22nd Madras Infantry. This later John, afterwards Colonel De Morgan, while stiU a lieutenant, married in 1798, in Colombo, Elizabeth Dodson, one of the eleven children and nine daughters of John Dodson of the Custom House, London, and granddaughter of James Dodson, F.R.S., a noted mathematician of his day, author of the Anti- Logarithm's Canon. The untoward fate, however, which at this date dogged the footsteps of the De Morgans, pursued John and Elizabeth. Of their seven children the two eldest when quite young were dis- patched to England, in June, 1804, on board the Prince of Wales, an East Indiaman. The ship was caught in a storm and wrecked off the Cape, and the two boys presumably perished ; but no conclusive proof of their death was ever obtained, any more than had been the case with their uncle, George Augustus ; and the uncertainty of their fate always preyed on the mind of their un- happy mother and of the father, who was so soon to foUow them. It was two years after this tragic event, on June 27, 1806, 24 WILLIAM DE MORGAN that Augustus, the fifth child of this couple, and the future celebrated mathematician, was born at Madura, in the l^Iadras Presidency. His father had held Staff appointments at several stations in India, and at the time when his wife was expecting the birth of this son, he chose Madura in preference to Vellore on account of its superior quietness. This choice proved fortunate for himself, as the native troops of the battalion of his regiment, which was at Vellore, mutinied, and in the terrible outbreak which followed. Colonel Fanshawe, who commanded it in his place, was murdered with several other English officers. Even in the comparative peace of Madura, night after night Colonel De Morgan would creep stealthily out of bed to listen to the conversation of the Sepoys in order to learn if a like fate threatened himself and his helpless wife and children. In con- sequence of the continued unrest in India, when Augustus was seven months old, his father determined no longer to risk the danger of a residence there for those he loved, and returned to England with his wiie, two small daughters, and his infant son. On this decision primarily hinged the fact that the long military record of his family was broken, and that Augustus, and in due course the latter's son, William De Morgan, did not follow the profession to which all their predecessors and most of their con- temporary relations belonged, but became instead peaceful civilians. After settling his family in England — first at Worcester, later in Devonshire, and finally at Taunton, Somersetshire — Colonel De Morgan twice re- visited India. On the last occasion he went to take command of a battalion at Quinton, but tv/o years after- wards, in 1816, he was ordered home on account of ill-health, and a brief record notes that 'he died at sea on board the Company's ship Larking two days af+er passing the Cape ' — not far from the locality where, twelve years previously, his two eldest sons had presumably perished. A rigid Evangelical in tenets and practice — a heritage, doubtless, from his Huguenot ancestry — Colonel De Morgan was known to his fellow officers by the nickname of ' Bible John,' and in a review which appeared shortly after his death he was described as the ' friend of Chris- tianity in India.' In connexion with this phrase, a curious incident occurred forty years afterwards, to which we shall refer later. Elizabeth De Morgan, left with a young family of four surviving children, appears to have brought them up strictl}^ but well. To Augustus, her eldest living son, she was devoted, and describes him as a quiet, thoughtful boy, never so well pleased as when he could get her to listen to his reading and explanations, ' always speculating on things that nobody else thought of, and asking her questions far beyond her power to answer ' — characteristics which were inherited, in turn, by his own children. ANCESTRY AND PARENTAGE 25 The boy, however, suffered under one great affliction. At birth he had lost the sight of his right eye, owing to the com- plaint known as ' sore eye ' in India, and this proving a handicap to his taking part in active games, doubtless enhanced his natural love of study. He likewise exhibited great musical talent ; even as a small child so sensitive was his ear, that a discordant note sounded upon the piano would make him start and shiver as ii in pain ; and he early learnt to play upon the flute most ex- quisitely. But, for a time, none seem to have suspected the existence of that other inheritance which was to make him celebrated, neither, apparently, might it have been looked upon with unqualified approval by his relations. His wife relates : — ' From his mother he inherited his musical talent, and probably hig mathematical power, for she was the granddaughter of James Dodson, a distinguished mathematician, the friend of Demoivre, and of most of the men of science of his time, and an early F.R.S. But he was Mathematical Master at Christ's Hospital, and some of his descendants seem to have thought this a blot on the scutcheon, for his great-grandson has left on record the impression he had of his ancestor. When quite a boy he asked one of his aunts "who James Dodson was ? " and received for answer " We never cry stinking fish / " so he was afraid to ask any more questions, but settled that, somehow or other, James Dodson was the " stinking fish of his family," and he had to wait a few years to find out that his great-grandfather was the only one of his immediate ancestors whose name would be held deserving of record.' The first suspicion of Augustus having inherited the osten- sibly reprehensible proclivity of this maternal forbear was due to a mere chance. An old friend of his family, Mr. Hugh Standert, of Taunton, noticed one day that the boy was very busy making a neat figure with ruler and compasses, and finding that the essence of the proposition which was being evolved was supposed to lie in its accurate geometrical drawing, he asked the little lad a few pertinent questions respecting it. Augustus replied that he was drawing mathematics. ' That's not mathema- tics ! ' said his friend. ' Come, and I will show you what is.' ' So,' relates his wife, ' the lines and angles were rubbed out, and the future mathematician, greatly surprised by finding that he had missed the aim of Euclid, was soon intent on the first demon- stration he ever knew the meaning of. I do not think that Mr. Standert was instrumental in further bringing out the latent power ; but its owner had become in some degree aware of the mine of wealth that only required working . . . and from that time his great delight was to work out questions which were often as much his own as their solution.' In this Qveni one recognizes the origin of an incident in one Df his son's novels to which we shall refer in due course. Mean- ivhile it is strange to relate that, although Augustus soon ' read /Algebra like a novel,' and ' picked out equations on the School 26 WILLIAM DE MORGAN pew instead of listening to the sermon on Sunday,' the exist enc< of any abnormal mathematical talent remained unsuspected bj those who taught him. In due course he went to Cambridge, where, being of a sociabk disposition, he soon became extremely popular. His flute proved an unfailing source of pleasure to his many friends who, we are told, quickly learnt to love him ' for his genial kindness, unwilling- ness to find fault, and quiet love of fun.' At every turn one recognizes in him the characteristics afterwards conspicuous in his eldest son — the quaint humour, the habit of quiet observa- tion, the love of analysis and tortuous reasoning, of intricate problems and half-facetious solutions in which he seems almosi making mock of his own questioning ; above all, his complete indifference to the world's opinion combined with an unvarying benevolence of outlook which involved a kindly view of all humanity. As to his peculiarities, his contemporaries remarked ' his habit of reading through a great part of the night, and in conse- quence getting up very late the next day, so that his fellow- collegians coming home from a wine-party at four in the morning might find him just going to bed.' Nor were these excursions into literature necessarily of a serious nature. In view of after- events it is interesting to note, ' his insatiable appetite for novel reading, always a great relaxation in his leisure time, and doubt- less a useful rest to an over-active brain in the case of one who did not care for riding or boating. Let it be good or bad from a literary point of view, almost any woik of fiction was welcome, provided it had plenty of incident and dialogue, and w^as not over-sentimental. . . . He soon exhausted the stores of the circulating library in Cambridge.' In short, Augustus himself relates : ' I did with Trinity College Library what I afterwards did with my own — I foraged for relaxation. I read an enormous amount of fiction — all I could get hold of, so my amusement was not all philosophical ! ' At length came the question of choosing a profession. Augustus was offered a cadetship, but his defective eyesight caused his mother to veto this ; and his conscientious inability to subscribe to the Thirty-nine Articles debarred him from taking Orders. He hesitated between Medicine or the Bar, eventually choosing the latter on his mother's urgent recom- mendation to 'throw physic to the dogs.' Nevertheless he felt that he had not yet found his true place in the world's workshop, and ere long he gladly seized upon the first opportunity of escap- ing from a profession which was likewise uncongenial to him. ' About, or before, the year 1820,' relates his wife, ' some liberal- ninded men, after long pondering on the disabilities of Jews and Dissenters n gaining a good education, came to the conclusion that as the doors of ANCESTRY AND PARENTAGE 27 the two Univeirsities were closed against them, the difficulty could best be met by estabhshing a University in which the highest Academical teaching should be given without reference to religious differences. . . . The establishment of University College, called at first the London Univer- sity, promised to fulfil the hopes of all friends of education, and was hailed as a forerunner of religious freedom.' Mr. De Morgan, whose activity did much to bring this to pass, ' welcomed the opening of the Q)Uege (in 1826-7) as not only meeting a great want of the time, but as offering himself a prospect of leaving the study of the Law which he did not like for the study and pursuit of Science. When the time came he sent in his name as candidate for the Mathematical Chair. ' It was characteristic that while the momentous decision was going forward on which all his future hinged, the candidate picked up a novel which was l}n.ng on the table before him and became so absorbed in its contents that he forgot aU beside. The book in question was Miss Porter's Field of the Forty Footsteps, and the scene of it is laid in the memorable fields which formed the site of the new College and its surroundings. Augustus had run tlirough the entire volume before the news reached him that, out of thirty-two candidates he, the youngest, had been elected to the coveted post.' Nevertheless, in thus changing his profession Augustus acted in opposition alike to the wishes of his family, and to those of his many friends who had predicted a brilliant career for him at the Bar, and who regarded his present decision as a regrettable sacrifice on his part. But above his natural inclination for the work involved, he maintained that the ' upholding of a high principle was a more weighty consideration than worldly success or affluence ' ; and with a cheerful optimism he announced his determination to ' keep to the Sciences so long as they will feed me I' Before this date, it must be observed, Augustus De Morgan had been recognized, not merely as a leading mathematician, but as a rising young scientist and brilliant logician. It was in this capacity that he made his entry among the circle of those who visited William Frend, likewise a distinguished mathematician, and a man whose remarkable personality may be presumed to have largely influenced that of his descendants, so that we must pause a moment to glance at his antecedents. William Frend came of a family whose ancestors had been seated at Waltham for many generations, and whose pedigree, with interesting ramifications, dates back to the early fifteenth century. His father, George, however, was a younger son, and in those days it was the fashion to differentiate considerably between the upbringing of the elder and the younger members of a family — to spare no pains in the education of the heir, who was instructed in all the polite arts which might enable him to figure effectively in the great world, while his brothers often received a homely education and were apprenticed to a trade. 28 WILLIAM DE MORGAN Thus George Frend eventu[lai,.->i \ ■ ^u r- v^^' '. L r:c- "'-}■'•-. .) ^y /- ^VfVi/ i /?t^i i'^. ■M. 1 1 Caricature by Edward Burne-Jones Sketched for William De Morgan. " Drawn by E. B. J. to show me he couhl have drawn like Caravaggio if he had tried." — WM. De M. THE OLD MAN'S YOUTH 73 criticism of pre-Raphaelite work — ' I am going to cover that canvas with flagrant violations of perspective and drawing, in crude inharmonious colour.' Later in the evening he said to De Morgan : ' You know that was all gammon I was talking about perspective and drawing— I onl}" do things badly because I don't know how to do them well — I do want to do them v*'ell.' Another time he remarked : ' Why should people attack artists as they do ? — Artists mean no harm — at least I don't. I only want to make a beautiful thing, that will remain beautiful after I am a Bogey, and give people pleasure when they look at it.' One Sunday afternoon De Morgan brought his mother to look at the pictures Burne- Jones was painting. As we have already seen, Sophia De Morgan took life somewhat seriously, and at this date she had been devoting much time to the study of Symbolism, in which she was fast becoming an expert. No sooner did she see the work of the young artist, than she began reading into it a meaning a-tune to her favourite hobby. ' What I do appreciate in your painting,' she said, at last, judicially, turning to him after studying it for some time v/ith great solemnity, ' is its depth of meaning — its profound symbolism ! How well I read your intention here — and here — and here ' — enumerating rapidly several mystical interpretations of the subjects before her. ' My dear fellow, ' said Burne- Jones to De Morgan with amaze- ment when she was gone, ' I am so delighted she saw that in it — / never knew it was there ! ' Many a laugh in the years to follow did De Morgan have over other interpretations of his friend's work. For instance, on one occasion, Burne- Jones's beautiful ' Golden Stair ' appeared under the wrong number in the catalogue as ' A Stampede of Wild Bulls.' On another, a very affected model mentioned that she was sitting to ' Mr. Jones, one of the rising artists of the day, for a beautiful religious subject,' i.e., the female figure in a picture of ' Christ and the Woman of Samaria,' and De Morgan— unable to recall any work bearing this title on which Burne- Jones was then engaged, and suspecting a practical joke — made inquiries and found that the deluded lady was posing for the female in ' King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid.' When Burne- Jones left the house in Kensington Square, where he lived after leaving Great Russell Street, and moved to the Grange, West Kensington, he took De Morgan round the garden of his new home in order to expatiate on the beauty of the vegeta- tion of which he had become the proud possessor. ' We are so excited,' he said, pointing to some bushes, ' to see whether these turn out to be peaches or blackberries ! ' One of the first letters sent by him to De Morgan from this new address refers to a picture which he had just been painting 74 WILLIAM DE MORGAN while on a visit to Spencer-Stanhope near Cobham, ' where, relates his wife, ' our host's cheery companionship indoors did him as much good as the fresh country air outside.' Apparently De Morgan had recently been suffering from one of those passing fits of depression to which youth and an artistic temperament are inevitably prone, and the recognition distressed Bume- Jones. Edward Burne-Jones to William De Morgan, ' The Grange, ' North End Road, ' FULHAM, S.W. ' West Grandmother. ' Dear DM., — ' You can't see the Annunciation, its away being photingrafted — but come to-morrow eveng — Mr. Morris is here, and there will be Mr. Rooke, R.A., on his way to Venice — come. ' I thought you looked not quite happy — it has bothered me — I wanted you to come on Sunday to be cheered, — I don't like you to look like that. I want you fat and merry, full of rude and coarse jesting, I don't like you to be miserable. If I could help you in this ere . . . life you ought to tell me — ought to — for I'm old enough, aye, and ugly enough to be any- body's father, and I'd give you money (up to a pound say) or advice (derived from a close study of Epictetus) — anyhow I'd cheer and comfort you and try to make you merry. ' I'm always merry — I don't care — I won't care ' Come to-morrow and we'll sneer aloud. Mr. Morris will, in the course of the evening — I should say coarse — Mr. Morris wiU, I repeat damn many things, and it is good to hear him, he will express himself in an uncompromising manner about life generally and will brace the nerves of the flaccid. ' Dear old chap, come, and we dine as you know at yj. 'Your afiect ♦ Ned.' Many years afterwards De Morgan tried to recall his earliest impression of William Morris who was five years his senior. ' I first met him,' he writes, ' at Red Lion Square, where I was taken by Henry Holiday — the very earliest dawn of him to me being the AthencBiim review of his earliest poems (Dr. Gamett wrote it, I fancy), quoting Rapunzel. At this visit I chiefly recollect him dressing himself in vestments and playing on a regal, to illustrate certain points in connexion with stained glass. As I went home it suddenly crossed my mind as a strange thing that he should, while doing what was so trivial and almost grotesque, contrive to leave on my memory so strong an impression of his power — he certainly did, somehow.' Morris's own remarks concerning the value of first impressions may well have recurred to De Morgan in this connexion. 'Always trust your first impression,' Morris used to say ; ' it is pretty sure to be right. Later, you may fancy it was wrong, but you will invariably come back to it in the end ! ' — ' Morris,' De Morgan THE OLD MAN'S YOUTH 75 remarked subsequently, 'was certainly the mor.t wonderful genius I ever knew. He produced poetry as readily as a bird sings ! ' One day, calling upon the Bume- Joneses, De Morgan, who adored children, wandered up to the nursery to pay his respects to little Margaret Bume- Jones ; and on coming downstairs again, he relates : ' I found Morris in the parlour — he was nibbling a pen. And he said, after a few words of chat — ' Now, you see, I'm going to write poetry, so you'll have to cut — I'm sorry, but it can't be helped ! ' So I cut — and I have a notion that I know what he wrote that evening, as next Saturday when I turned up, as I always did then-a-days, he read us a lot of the study of Psyche. So I'm glad I cut ! — I recollect his remarking that it was very hard work writing that sort of thing. I took it that he was speaking of the thrashing Psyche gets at the hands of Venus. He really felt for her — and was evidently glad it was over.' Another early recollection of ' Top's ' moments of inspiration was even more impressive. Calling upon him one day in Great Ormond Street, De Morgan was startled by a shower of books which flew out of a window on the first floor. ' Oh, never mind, sir,' said the servant to him apathetically ; 'It's only Master composing ! ' Once while De Morgan was sitting with Morris, he received a visit from a wealthy Jew who wished to consult him about six panels in a scheme of decoration. After the man had departed, Morris sat absently pencilling upon the walls of the room a design resembling the figure 6. Thereupon De Morgan, who, according to his habit, had been idly scribbling on a sheet of paper, added to his previous flights of fancy the portrait, shown overleaf, of their late visitor, fashioned out of the same hiero- glyphic. Even at this date Morris was full of the enthusiasm for social reform which later became a dominant factor in his life. ' I go about,' he said to young De Morgan, ' preaching the divine gospel of Discontent.' To him contentment represented stagna- tion, the fatal barrier to progress. To De Morgan it was an inherent part of his temperament. Life, that ' shining and name- less thing,' was to him a riddle curious and interesting, which, in its different phases, he regarded with the eye of a philosopher — not a reformer. It was in another matter that the influence of William Morris upon his career at this juncture was pronounced. As an aftermath of the Tractarian movement, a strong impetus had been given to Church decoration during the years immediately preceding this period. The bare places of worship which had been approved by a more Puritanical generation, were being transformed under a growing desire for beauty of ornament 76 WILLIAM DE MORGAN and design. Decorative Art, in the ascendant, was recognized as a valuable asset of the Church ; and Jowett, writing to a friend in 1865, notices as a prominent sign of the times, the % %3i^ ' aesthetic-Catholic revival going on in the London Churches. ' To meet the need of the age in matters both ecclesiastical and secular, Wilham Morris established himself as the champion of artistic handicraft. THE OLD MAN'S YOUTH 77 Fresh from painting the Oxford Union, he and others of his fraternity met and discussed methods for rendering the common- place things of hie more beautifuL ' The first notion of the firm of Morris & Company, the name and wares of which have since become so widely spread,' relates Mr. Mackail, 'sprang up among friends in talk, and cannot be assigned to any single author. It was in a large measure due to Madox-Brov/n ; but perhaps even more to Rossetti, who, poet and idealist as he was, had business quahties of a high order, and the eye of a trained financier for anything which had money in it. To Morris himself, who had not yet been forced by business experience into being a business man, the firm probably meant little m.ore than a definite agree- ment for co-operation and common work among friends who were also artists ... of these associates Burne- Jones and Madox- Brown were regularly employed in making designs for stained glass, mainly, of course, for church windows.' Premises were taken at 8 Red Lion Square in 1861, a few doors from the rooms formerly shared in their bachelor days by IMorris and Burne- Jones ; although with the establishment there of the firm of ' Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co.,' many of those who had first discussed the scheme drifted to other occupations. ' The old Oxford Brotherhood, with its ideas of common life and united action, finally fell asunder ' ; Spencer-Stanhope, and others of the former fraternity remained no more than deeply interested spectators of the new venture ; while even ' Morris, Burne- Jones and Faulkner were actually in a minority in the new association.' The designing of v^^ork undertaken by the firm was, of course, mainly carried out by the members of the fi.rm themselves ; ' but other artists, including Albert Moore, William De Morgan and Simeon Solomon, m.ade occasional designs for glass and tiles.' ^ In the basement a small kiln vras built for the firing of these. De Morgan v/as by now convinced that his first venture as an artist was a failure. ' I certainly,' he wrote many years afterwards, ' wa.s a feeble and discursive dabbler in picture- making. I transferred myself to stained-glass window-making, and dabbled in that too till 1872.' About the age of twenty-five he turned his attention to this new line of work, but he estimated his own powers in regard to the result too modestly. ' His designs for stained-glass windows were often remarkable,' was the verdict of his contemporary, Sir William Richmond, to which William Morris added his testimony, and the daughter of the latter. Miss May Morris, long years after, related how specimens of his glass which she saw hanging up in his home struck her as being ' singularly rich in colour and simple and dignified in * The Life oj William Morris, by J. W. Mackail, Vol. I, pp. 144-5. 78 WILLIAM DE MORGAN design.' The very suggestion of something primitive and mediseval in his conceptions which, as long as he adhered to painting pictures, involved a certain lack of pliability and life in his figures, fell into harmony with the ecclesiastical ideal at which he now aimed, as, too, did his love of quaint outline and intricate ornamentation ; while the glowing, jewel-like colours which he sought to produce, gave fresh scope for his love of scientific experiment. ]\Ieanwhile the congenial fraternity with which he had become associated in the fresh impetus given to the Arts and Crafts did not in any measure monopolize his individual effort. He remained always apart, never even nominally connected with Morris's enterprise, and working on independent lines. ' A common error,' he said, later in life, ' is to suppose that I was a partner in Morris's firm. I was never connected with his business beyond the fact that, on his own initiative, he exhibited and sold my work, and that subsequently he employed my tiles in his schemes of decoration.' The first tile which De Morgan produced, a pink lustre, blurred and dull compared with his later work, he took to show to another friend, Horatio Lucas, by whose family it is still treasured. ' Keep that,' said Mr. Lucas privately to his wife, ' for one day De Morgan will be a great man ! ' But altliough the painting of tiles was one of the primary occupations of the new Morris Firm in Red Lion Square, yet when, in process of time, De Morgan undertook the manufacture of these on a large scale, Morris decided that it was no longer necessary to continue this branch of his o\vn industrj?', and subsequently he procured all requisite tiles from De Morgan, executed in the latter's designs. ' Morris never made but three designs for my execution,' De Morgan once remarked — 'the Trellis and Tulip, the Poppy and another — I forget the name. I never could v/ork except by myself and in my own manner.' Thus first in London Street, then in Grafton Street, and finally at 40 Fitzroy Square, De Morgan conducted his own experiments in stained glass and soon, by a natural transition, in tiles and lustre-ware. ' His is the story,' related William Morris's daughter, man}' years after, ' of most of our Arts and Crafts workers of the mid and later nineteenth century — the impulse of invention that seeks for outlet — the invention brought to a dead stop by the loss of tradition in the crafts^ — the necessity of spending valuable time experimenting in the A B C of an Art, and patiently working it up in the path in which his instinct guides him.' At length, being dissatisfied with the reproductions of his designs and the poor interpretations of his ideas by others, De Morgan set up a kiln in the cellar of the house in Fitzroy Square in order to attempt his own reproductions, and ran the flue through an old chimney THE OLD MAN'S YOUTH 79 of the building. Miss Laura Hertford, who rented the floor above, an artist who had the distinction of being the first lady ever to exhibit in the Royal Academy, viewed these proceedings with considerable mistrust. ' You will burn the house down ! ' she remonstrated ; but William De Morgan had no misgivings, and he thus describes the result : — ' In '72 (or '70) I re-discoveved the lost Art of Moorish or Gubbio lustres. It had been re-discovered before in Italy in 1856 — but that I didn't know at the time, or I wouldn't have presumed. It has been re-discovered since, times out of number, and a glorious array of old Italian names. Maestro Giorgio of Gubbio, etc., is always trotted out to mount the re-discoverers on. I never did anything to justify a belief that the art of the cinquecento had been re-discovered — it was merely the pigment. But that's neither here nor there. ' Well ! — in the course of my re-discoveries, the flame from my kiln discovered a wood-joist in the house chimney of 40 Fitzroy Square, and the roof got burned off. This incendio sat for the fire at C. Vance and Co's. I hadn't any money, so when my new factory-to-be was discussed, I demurred on the ground that I couldn't find a locus for it, and keep the stained glass on, perhaps. A friend offered capital, and I moved from the ruins of my Carthage. I started afresh as a potter, but I lost my stained glass, which was bringing me more than I have ever earned since.' * ' The landlord didn't seem at all amiable ! ' De Morgan remarked pathetically, when referring to his act of incendiarism ; but this, to him, unreasonable peevishness on the part of the owner of the house certainly was the direct means of terminating one phase of his artistic career, and inaugurating another. Before dwelling on this new chapter in his life, however, we must glance briefly at certain events which were happening in his home circle, and the trend of which helped to clinch his new departure. His father. Professor De Morgan, had, as we have seen, joined University College in early youth, chiefly with a view to upholding the ideal of religious tolerance in matters educational. For thirty-six years he had held the Professorship with a disin- terested loyalty of attachment to that principle, since, as already mentioned, a man of limited means and large family, he could, with his brilliant acquirements, have readily obtained a more lucrative and advantageous appointment elsewhere. In 1866, however, the Professorship of Mental Philosophy and Logic at the College fell vacant, and the Rev, J, Martineau was a candidate for the chair. He was a distinguished scholar and admirably suited for election ; but he was rejected by the Council on the ground that he was a Unitarian, This was a departure from the ideal which the College had been founded to maintain — ' its loudly vaunted principle that the creed of neither teacher nor student was to be an element of his * A letter written in 1906 to Louis Joseph Vance. 8o WILLIAM DE MORGAN competence to teach or learn,' and still more, the decision was, as Professor Dc Morgan pointed out in this particular instance, dictated by worldly considerations both unworthy and incon- sistent. ' The interference of the College as a College,' he wrote to Sir John Herschcl, ' and a settlement of this question officially, is a step in which it concerns me, with my way of thinking, to take a part.' Sincerity had been the guiding motive of Augustus De Morgan's life, and he at once resigned. ' It is unnecessary for me to leave the College — the College has left me,' he wrote, and in a fine and impassioned letter, which he addressed to the Council, he lamented bitterly their abandonment of that grand spirit of tolerance, ' in which there is more religion than in all exclusive systems put together,' Later, when it was desired to place some likeness of him in the Institution to whose adva.ntage he had devoted his life, he refused sternly : — ' I am asked to sit for a bust or picture, to be placed in what is de- scribed as " our old College." This location is impossible ; our old College no longer exists. It was annihilated in November last. ' The old College to which I was so many years attached by office, by principle, and by liking, had its being, lived and moved in the refusal of all religious disqualifications. Life and Soul are now extinct. ' I will avoid detail. I may be writing to some who approve of it. To me the College is like a Rupert's drop ^ with a little bit pinched off the end ; that is, a heap of dust. . . .' But bravely as he faced the issue, the blow at the very root of the work to which his life had been devoted was felt by him severely. ' If force of will can succeed,' he said, ' the Institution is to pass away from before my mind and to become as if it had never existed.' But other causes at this date accentuated the mental grief and strain which resulted in a rapid undermining of his physical strength. As before mentioned, his eldest daughter, little Alice, had been in her grave since Christmas, 1853, a victim to phthisis. The year following the Professor's retirement from University College, his son George, then founder and secretary of the Mathematical Society — the one of all his children who had appeared destined to follow in his owti footsteps — succumbed to tuberculosis of the throat after three years of anxiety respecting his lungs. At that same date his other son, Edward, had been forced to go away for an eighteen-months' voyage in ' a very fluctuating state of health, which occasioned constant anxiety to his parents.' And still another cloud began to gather over the stricken family in the dire > A Rupert's drop is a drop of glass which is thrown while in a state of fusion into water, and consolidates into a retort-like shape. The bulb may be struck sharpl}'- with a hammer without breaking, but if the end of the tail be nipped oii, the whole flies into dust. THE OLD MAN'S YOUTH 81 illness, from the same cause, of Chrissy, one time the merriest member of the home circle. The Professor faced these successive tragedies with pathetic patience. ' A strong and practical conviction of a better and higher existence,' he wrote to his old friend, Sir John Herschel, ' reduces the whole thing to emigration to a country from which there is no way back and no mail packets, with a certainty oi following at a time to be arranged in a better way than I can do it.' But the time of his own departure was then nearer than he dreamed. An abnormally hot summer in 1868, acting on a constitution weakened by intense mental suffering, brought on a sharp attack of congestion of the brain ; and although he again rallied and his mental powers resumed much of their old vigour, the death of his daughter Christina in August, 1870, was, in seven months, followed by his own. For many years, as we have seen, he had been deeply interested in, and had closely investigated, tales of appearances of the dead to the dying. During the last two days of his life his son William, watching by him, observed that he seemed to recognize the presence of all those of his family whom he had lost by death— his three children, his mother and sister, all of whom he greeted audibly, naming them in the reverse order to that in which they left this world. Whether it was the wandering of a dying brain or a happy vision of actuality, who shall decide ? But the belief in which he lived, and in which he died, was proclaimed in the old fighting spirit by a characteristic sentence in his will : — ' I commend my future with hope and confidence to Almighty God ; to God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Whom I beheve in my heart to be the Son of God, but Whom I have not confessed with my hps, because in my time such confession has always been the way up in the world.'' To William, the loss of his father with whose character his own was so much akin ; the brooding shadow of death which had engulfed so many loved members of the home-circle and still hung threateningly over the survivors ; and the sudden catas- trophe which had overtaken his work just when it was promising to be a financial success— all came with a sequence of disaster which would have stunned a less buoyant temperament. Bui deeply as he suffered, he bore the ills of life with the elasticity ol a philosopher. If his former world had become a pinch of dust, all the more did it behove him to construct a new one. In 1872, with his mother and his sister Mary, the only remaining members of his family dependent on his care, he moved from the house at Primrose Hill, where his father had died, to No. 30 Cheyne Row, and there in the garden he established a kiln, and started life as a potter. CHAPTER IV THE CHELSEA PERIOD 1872-1881 THE house in which began the new era in De Morgan's career was in a quiet backwater of Chelsea, two doors removed from that occupied by Carlyle, a neighbour with whom Mrs. De Morgan had been acquainted from early life. It has been pointed out as singularly ' fitting that De Morgan, perhaps the greatest of all English Ceramic Artists, should have developed his art within a stone's throw of the site of the old Chelsea China works, of 150 years ago, and almost opposite the site of Wedgwood and Bentley's Chelsea Establishment.' ' The Chelsea of to-day, ' writes Miss May Morris, ' is a gilded desert to those who knew it then. Cheyne Row was an unpre- tentious old-world corner at the upper end of which stood the beautiful little house built for G. P. Boyce by Philip Webb, the tree-tops of its pleasant garden waving above the high brick wall ; from here looking down on the Row one caught glimpses of the light on the river and the red-sailed barges ; and one of the charms of the place w^as the sense of adventure that a quiet corner gleans from that sight of the way into the open world.' The lingering romance of Chelsea, its still visible links with a picturesque Past ; the Old Church with its lore of history and its monuments to a vanished race ; above aU, the placid grey river bearing on its breast the world's traffic while reflecting the wayward moods of cloud and sunshine — all made a strong appeal to De Morgan which never diminished throughout the forty-six years which he was destined to reside in the locality. In those early days he would cross the old wooden bridge then leading to Battersea, and pausing midway, would remind himself of the favourite superstition connected with it. For the Chelsea of that day believed firmly that seven currents of air met in the centre span of the bridge with wonderful health-giving properties ; and long years after this superstition had died, De Morgan to his delight found a carpenter who insisted that he had had practical experience of its truth. On a bitter March day, fifty years previously, this man's mother had taken him to 82 A THE CHELSEA PERIOD 83 stand on the bridge with his six brothers and sisters who were all suffering from whooping-cough, and the value of the cure was surely proved, for not one of them died, but — as the sceptical may point out do other children similarly afflicted — all survived to grow up hale and strong ! Little as De Morgan dreamed it, one more romance was to be added to the history of that former river-side village in the story of the busy potter who now, amid drab, modern surround- ings, strove to weave things of beauty out of his fertile brain. Yet, for a time, though deeply occupied in developing his pottery, he still occasionally drew designs for stained-glass windows. It was during this transitional period in his art that he designed the stained glass for a large drawing-room which Sir Samuel Marling was adding to his house, Stanley Park, and also manu- factured lustre tiles for the hearth of the same room, as well as a set of little boys smoking, for the chimney piece in the smoking- room there. In reference to this, the Rev. George West, Sir Samuel's nephew, remarks : — ' The Grisaille work in the windows is very good ; but some square divisions between the mullions are filled with very large heads of Shakespeare, Dante, etc., as De Morgan thought the room was to be a library. They are too large in scale ; but three full-length figures of the seasons are very fine. About this date I used to go to his mother's house in Cheyne Row pretty frequently on Sunday afternoons, and it was delightful to meet aU the celebrities there, but the newly-fledged High-art people used to pose and attitudinize, and De Morgan used to make great game of their affectations. I also visited his studio and used often to suggest buying something which took my fancy, but always met with the same answer, " Oh — I don't think I can spare that just now ! " ' I subsequently lost sight of him and only many years after- wards met him unexpectedly in Florence. The tall, brisk figure was then slightly bowed, and iron-grey locks had replaced the chestnut hair of earlier days, but the identity of the man was unmistakable, and I greeted him with delighted recollection. Reminiscences and platitudes were exchanged, and I made the somewhat hackneyed remark that the Arno was smelling very badly. "Yes," replied De Morgan thoughtfully, "there have been a good many suicides lately. But " — sniffing gently — " I don't think it is quite a smell of suicide ! " ' Besides occasionally reverting to stained-glass work, De Morgan during the early years of his art as a potter stiU continued to paint a few pictures of a decorative character ; but these were principally done with the object of experimenting in pig- ments — to test some novel chemical process which often resulted in a peculiar brilliance and beauty of colouring, but which, in 84 WILLIAM DE MORGAN many instances, doomed them to perish prematurely, owing to the dryness of the medium that he had mixed with the paint. Of these, ' The Alchemist's Daughter ' was one of the most successful, and a picture of St. George accompanied by a Goblin, in connexion with which must be mentioned his first acquaintance with a lady who afterwards celebrated it in verse. On Christmas Day, 1873, De Morgan joined in the festivities at the Grange with the Burne- Joneses. ' In the hall,' writes Lady Burne- Jones, ' there was a magic lantern and snap-dragon. Charles Faulkner and William De Morgan enchanted us all by their pranks, in which Morris and Edward Poynter occasionally joined, while Mrs. Morris, placed safely out of the way, watched everything from her sofa.' At this party, playing with their cousins Phihp and Margaret Burne- Jones, were little Rudyard Kipling and his brilliant sister Alice, or Trix, afterwards Mrs. Fleming, whose father, John Lockwood Kipling, the son of a Wesleyan Minister, had married a sister of Lady — then Mrs. — Burne- Jones. Alice Fleming in later life shared much of her brother's singular genius, and wrote verses the lilt and rhythm of which are full of music. Some of her most successful poems, however, were said to be written while she was in a trance ; and, Dn De Morgan's picture of St. George, she sent him, fully twenty years after that Christmas party, what she terms ' some rough verses anent your picture ' which, she explains, were written in lutomatic writing. St. George in the Transvaal He lost his way at eventide And wandering where the paths divide, He found a gobhn by liis side A satyr child, Whose look was wild. The day drew on to eventide. Ah! good St. George, at eventide. Choose not a goblin for thy guide. Or things of terror may betide Before moonrise, Beneath thine eyes ; Go forth alone where paths divide. St. George knew well the goblin lied But yet he took him for his guide And on through shadows dappled, pied. He led the Knight, At fall of night, Until they reached the water -side. K THE CHELSEA PERIOD 85 St. George's own betrothed bride Prayed for him still at eventide Within the chapel of St. Vide. A world away She knelt to pray : He needed prayer with such a guide. The blue waves kis.sed the bouldered beach. Far on the billows out of reach, There shone a wondrous form to teach Fear to a Knight, A faery sight : — The satyr child laughed on the beach. A sea nymph with gold rippled hair Rocked on the ripples, free from care. She had no soul, she was so fair, — St. George, I pray. Look not that way. Poor mortal strength has much to bear. Queen Mary, pity now thy Knight For he is in an evil plight Standing alone — twixt nj'mph and sprite— Ah Princess pray A world away — Keep watch and vigil all the night. The Princess is so very far — As distant as the evening star ; The nymph is near withouten bar. The Knight is young. Her honeyed tongue Would win Apollo from his car. Full many a Knight at eventide Still wanders on through paths untried, While loved ones pray A world away — For his dear feet that go astray ! Ere long De Morgan's wealth of imagination and earnestness of endeavour brought about one happy result in the development of his pottery — a noticeable extension of output. His smaU kilns, erected in a shed at the end of the back garden in his new home, soon proved inadequate to his needs. A few doors higher in the street, No. 36, was a spacious old house with a larger garden, known as Orange House, which stood upon the site now occupied by the Roman Catholic Church of the Holy Redeemer, and this De Morgan proceeded to rent from Mr. Wickliam Flower as a show-room and workshop, while still continuing to reside at No. 30. An old coach-house which stood between the north side of Orange House and Upper Chejme Row made an excellent shelter for the bigger kiki which he now proceeded to set up, 86 WILLIAM DE MORGAN while — despite the previous disastrous experience in Fitzroy Square — a flue, with happy recklessness, was carried up one ol the old chimneys of the house. The first floor was given up to the leading painters in his employ. The show-room, with a store-room at the back, occupied the whole ground floor. Foi himself De Morgan reserved a room on the second floor which he used as a studio, and in which he often slept when working late at night. It was characteristic that he started his occupation of his new premises with a catastrophe due to his impatience to get under way. It is essential to go to work very cautiously with a new kiln, and to test it thoroughly before attempting to fire any contents. But De Morgan had on hand an order for a thousand tiles of a fan-shaped flower pattern which he called the B.B.B., after the firm Barnard, Bishop and Barnard. Anxious to complete this, at his very first firing, when the heat was at its strongest, he blew the top of the new kiln off, and the order for the B.B.B. was, as he expressed it, ' temporarily re-named the D.D.D. ! ' Already prominent amongst his painters in those early days were Charles and Fred Passenger. The former, who was a cripple, worked with De Morgan for nearly thirty years, the latter, despite ill-health, for twenty-eight. Their initials appear on much of his pottery, and their work has a distinctive quality very apparent. Dr. Reginald Thompson likewise, who became a great friend of De Morgan, took part in the designing, and some of his productions and reproductions are extremely clever, particularly those of animals and birds, in which he excelled. He and De Morgan would vie with each other in inventing grotesque beasts and monsters, and laugh like happy schoolboys when either succeeded in evolving some more than usually fantastic creature. As a result of this friendship. Dr. Thompson eventually married De Morgan's sister Annie, and their three brilliant sons inherited much of the talent of their mother's family. Another, but younger, artist of great skill, whose work belongs to a rather later date, was Joe Juster, the vases which he painted and initialled deserving to rank amongst some of the finest work. In De Morgan's employ likewise were half a dozen girls who were engaged on Dutch and other tiles, and who occupied a room in one of the adjacent houses in Upper Cheyne Row. Mr. Reginald Blunt, in a delightful chapter on ' Etrurians in Chelsea,' describes how De Morgan's painters enjoyed their labours in their pleasant abode ' where the workshop was not, as later at Merton and Fulham, away from the cheery haunts of humanity, and where the ' carriage folk ' visiting the show- room below enlivened their window view, and the feeling that THE CHELSEA PERIOD 87 one or other of their productions was at that moment finding a purchaser downstairs gave a touch of hvely interest and reahty to their doings. De Morgan was constantly in and about, working out designs upstairs, counselling and correcting the decorators, meeting friends and visitors below, or superintending the packing of a kiln in the outhouse ; and towards evening would often be heard a big voice shouting " Bill ! " and footsteps mounting the stairs three at a time like a schoolboy's, which told of the arrival of William Morris with ruffled hair and indigo-stained fingers, keen to discuss some new project or just to hear how things were going with his friend. '^ ' Many a time,' relates Miss Morris, ' when our Hammersmith quartette paid a visit to the Chelsea trio, we would go round to Orange House after tea, and spend part of the long summer evening wandering through the house and garden eager over the latest experiment. There were times when a kiln spoilt cast a slight cloud on the gathering in spite of the gentle courtesy of our friend, who would not even mention the mishap ; times when a pot that had roused no special expectation came out a triumph of shining colour amongst the ruin of a whole firing ; there were " spoilt " pieces that one could not help loving for some special quality in them — in short a whole chapter of the story which, passing under the eyes of those familiar with the building up of a craft, was alive with incidents hailed and followed with keenest interest.' But of the wearing anxiety connected with the work — the need for a cool head and a brave heart braced to meet failure, Mr. Blunt can speak from experience. ' No one,' he records, ' who has not been actually engaged in fine pottery work can quite realize the strain and tension of the firing of a big pottery kiln, in which, it may be, hundreds of pounds' worth of decorative work, and months of arduous labour, are put to the hazard of the flames ; when a whiff of unregulated draught, an ill-secured saggar, a few degrees more or less of furnace temperature, a slight misjudgment of the critical moment of completion — any one of the dozen swiftly changing conditions — may mean all the difference between success and disaster. More than once I have been by William De Morgan's side at these supremely critical moments and admired the coolness and quiet resource — the high-pitched voice never quitting its resonant drawl — which marked the excitement of a big issue in the balance. But the end, whatever it was, was sure to reveal the rare good traits, the grit, perseverance, and invincible good-humour ; boyish delight, it may be, in a fine thing finely achieved ; at the worst, an object lesson or a clue won and registered, with a smile, from failure.' * The Wonderful Village, by Reginald Blunt, p. 174. 88 WILLIAM DE MORGAN To Mr. Shaw Sparrow, De Morgan later described certain details of his process thus : — ' (i) The wondrous, varied beauty of lustre depends on the decom- position of a metaUic salt, usually copper or silver. ' (2) The salt is made into a paint by means of a gum fluid and lamp black, the latter being used to enable the painter to see distinctly his design. ' (3) The design is painted on the smooth enamel or glaze after the glaze has been fired. ' (4) I use tin glaze, as I find it sensitive to lustre work. ' (5) After the design painted on the glaze is dry, the pot or dish ia fired again. ' (6) In the old Persian tiles, wood provided all the heat. With a coke (or a gas) kiln, at a given moment, when the heat has produced a certain tint and glow of incandescent effect, burning chips of wood are put inside the kiln ; then the minute and heated particles of carbon in the smoke combine with the oxygen of the salt, setting free the metal, wliich is left in a finely-divided state fixed on the enamel's surface.' To the uninitiated, primarily in consequence of the uniformity demanded in tile production, the gulf is not always apparent which separates the original work of the genuine artist from a mere mechanical reproduction of printed designs. Of this fact De Morgan was keenly aware, and in regard to it he v/rote as follows to Mr. Shaw Sparrow : — ' The painting, as you know, is executed not on the tiles but on thin paper. The colour used is the ordinary underglaze colours (or at least one ordinary ditto), the paper is attached to the tile face down, the pattern reversing, and the paper burns av/ay under the glaze. ' There has been some confusion of ideas in connexion with this process between it and printing, as in ordinary etched plate printing, block-printing as in wall-papers, and stencilling. The confusion, I believe, has been possible only in minds where the last three processes, all totally distinct, were already plunging chaotically against one another. The tiles printed in my way are painted line by line and tint by tint, just as much as pictures in exhibitions, and are just as little to be described as prints as such pictures would be after they had been relieved and trans- ferred to another canvas. The Madonna di San Sisto, for example, is, quite distinctly, not a print in an)^ sense of the word. ' Of course the fact that the tiles of one pattern are all alike, contributes to the 'dea that they are printed. But things that are painted alike are alike, and the reasons these have to be painted so are of a purely com- mercial nature. Nevertheless the system is thoroughly unwholesome. Things painted by hand have no value unless the qualities that give value to the hand-painting are present ; and in my opinion the sooner the acquiescence in the commercial demand for exact uniformity comes to an end the better. Repetition work ought to be very cheap, and done by repeating processes.' One difficulty with which De Morgan had to contend was the lack of unity of interpretation between himself and the draughtsmen on whom he depended for the reproduction of his ideas. The weakness of all modem craftsmanship is an over- 'William De Morgan fecit [Tile in the possession of Mr. Balsey Ricardo. THE CHELSEA PERIOD 89 refined finish ; and he was keenly aUve to this trouble ; the designer and ihe draughtsman being often so dissimilar in temperament that the former had to copy the latter instead of interpreting him ; and if the copying became too mechanical and laboured, much of the spontaneity of the original was inevitably lost. On one design still in existence De Morgan himself has noted for his fellow-worker : ' I want you to use your own dis- cretion as much as possible ' ; and there were times when the reproduction of his work was as out of harmony with the spirit of his intention as can be a symphony of Beethoven under the hands of an unskilled musician. Thus the pottery done directly under his personal super- vision alone bears the stamp of his individual genius. In other specimens, although his designs were utilized by his workmen, the subtle grace of the original lines and the vitality of the original conception was too often lost or marred. An old workman who laboured with him early in his career, used to relate how De Morgan was so particular with all work which came under his direct inspection that often after a vase was quite finished — to the superficial observer exquisitely hand-painted and ready for baking — he would, if he did not consider it was absolutely flaw- less, toss it relentlessly on the floor and smash it into a thousand pieces. At all times so absorbed was he in creating and supervising that he would forget all besides. Reminded that it was long past his dinner hour, he would rush off to the nearest baker's, buy a piece of bread, and returning in haste would eat it absently while continuing his examination or direction of the work going on around him. This absorption in the creative and constructive part of his business involved a corresponding indifference to its prosaic side, and it is said that, more than once he forgot to sign the cheques when he paid his men — a lapse which they treated with good-humoured indulgence, often omitting to point it out till the wages again fell due upon the week following. There indeed existed between master and men a cheery catnaraderie totally different from the usual status of employer and employed. The factory was more like some private guild, in which there was a community of interest. Each man recog- nized that he was part of a great whole in which the humblest worker was necessary to the success at which all alike aimed ; and from the smallest boy employed in laying ground and colour and glaze on the plain tiles and brick facings, each member of that little fraternity was inspired with a feeling of personal pride in, and personal responsibility for, their united achievement. Nor was there one who did not share in the triumph when the master pronounced his satisfaction over some rare and lovely specimen which had issued in glowing perfection from its ordeal 90 WILLIAM DE MORGAN by fire. Yet De Morgan's highest praise was usually a boyish expression of delight. ' That is very jolly ! ' he would say briefly ; and only the vibration in his voice would reveal the strain of past tension, and the inexpressible joy of the creator in the thing victoriously created. At this date, De Morgan did not make his o\\ti biscuit ; he employed for his lustre-ware large dishes such as were exported to Persia and India for use as rice dishes, while the tiles and pots were mostly painted on a red clay body which came from Poole, Dorset, or was supplied by the Stourbridge Fire Clay Co., though a few were made with clay from the Battersea Crucible Works. All tiles manufactured by him during this period, however, may be distinguished from those of a later date by the raised bars on the reverse side. Meanwhile, like William Morris, he lamented the appearance of London houses — dull buildings in a dull atmo- sphere, from which the soot-grime could only be removed by the tiresome process of re-painting. It ought to be practicable, Morris maintained, to clean all houses in a dirty city by turning on a hose ; and to De Morgan it seemed that the only exterior decoration at once suitable and picturesque under such conditions were tiles, which were at once gay and washable, if only they could be made to resist the vagaries of a changeable climate. ' At some date in the early seventies,' he wrote later, ' I was struck by the fact that the employment of tiles in European buildings never approached in extent the use that I have alwa\'s understood has been made of them in other countries, especially in Persia. This seemed particularly noticeable in external work. In my frequent conversations with architects, I noticed that the reason invariabh^ alleged for this last was that the tiles would not bear the frost or hold tight on cement or mortar. Observa- tion confirmed this. I also remarked that tiles pointed at as having these defects were alwaj's the pressed dust tiles, or Minton tiles (so-called, because the invention of the press was either Herbert Minton 's, or because he bought the patent). In time I came to the conclusion that the artificially compacted clay differed in molecular structure from that of natural shrinkage from the wet. It is more absorbent, or rather absorbs with ^eater capillary attraction (for I doubt the same bulk of pressed tile absorbing as much water as one of ours ; but I don't know). Of course I did not then know that tiles I made myself from wet clay would stand frost and wet. I only believed it.' Thus De Morgan, having found that it was not much more sxpensive to make his own tiles than to buy them, experimented with diligence and discovered that clay such as he manufactured and baked personally would answer satisfactorily for purposes of external facing in architecture. The result of this conclusion will be referred to later. THE CHELSEA PERIOD 91 Besides his experiments in this matter, his inventions in connexion with his work were many and various. He always designed his own kilns and chimneys ; he planned a clever revolving grate ; and he devoted much time to the construction of grinding mills. Amongst the sketches which he made in regard to the latter, one shows the grinding process from the breaking up of the grist to grinding to the finest powder. Another shows balls upon balls, from large series to small ones, grinding ever finer and finer. He further invented a process- painting in oils, in which glycerine, employed as a medium, was productive of a remarkable richness of colouring ; also a new process of glass-stain ; as well as a method of ceramic casting which obviated the loss of sharpness in the forms involved when covering over the design with a glaze — a loss noticeable in the Delia Robbia ware. Mr. Blunt points out how, ' contradictory as it sounds, it was perhaps, to some extent, the wide range of William De Morgan's inventive and creative ability which tended in a measure to hamper the success of the pottery. Apart altogether from the creation of designs, his chemical investigations into the qualities and kiln-behaviour of various bodies, calcines, frits, and glazes, and the practical improvements he introduced in the design of ovens and kilns, and the regulations of temperatures and draught, were of course an essential and most valuable part of the work. . . . But the versatile genius for contrivance and improvements which he inherited from his father was not, as he said, to be impounded, either aesthetically or technically ; and was devoted impartially also to the evolution of telegraph codes, of tile pattern indexes, of systems of accounts, of machinery design, of stock reference lists, and other side issues which poorer brains could have tackled well enough. De Morgan's mind was ever full of original methods and ideas on all sorts of subjects . . . and he was always loath to accept preconceived systems of doing things until he had made trial of his own.'^ Thus among his papers still exist bundles of carefully written treatises on mechanical questions covering an amazing variety of subjects, each disquisition revealing an astonishing grasp of the matter with which, for the time being, he was coping. One of his former workmen, Mr. Bale, contributes some interesting recollections of these methods, which are best given in his own words : — Mr. Bale's Narrative. * It is about fifty years ago I was sent to Mr. De Morgan, on the recommendation of Mr. William Morris, as painter. This -, • * The Wonderful Village, pp. 187-8. 92 WILLIAM DE MORGAN was the first time I ever saw anything of tile and pottery work ; everything was so strange and fascinating that it acted hke a spell upon me, and I could not resist studying it night and day. ' Well, the first thing I had to do was to outline on a piece of glass the design in brown colour, same as is used in glass painting — I subsequently found out. This piece of glass with the design was fired, then given to me with sheets of tissue paper cut about 8 inches square, then a solution was made, tinted green. I had to dip the tissue paper in the solution, lay it on some blotting paper to take up the superfluous water, then I had to paint on the glass (with the design on it) a solution of gum and glycerine around the pattern, pick up the damp paper and lay it even over the design, then paint on the paper the design in different colours when thoroughly dry, then gently pull the paper off the glass and lay it aside to be eventually stuck down with a solution of soluble glass upon Dutch enamelled tiles. This was given to the kiln man who covered it with a powdered soft glass, then put it into the kiln to fire. ' Mr. De Morgan at this date often used Dutch enamel tiles, it was a long time before he made his own tiles. When he got his own (which were always made of fire-clay) he had to get a white ground, this white ground, or paste, was made of silica, and was the medium of sticking the paper paintings on to the tiles. This paste was extremely good ; but unfortunately there was always likely to be trouble — and one which was hardly ever got over, as it used to split up in little holes, consequently they had to be touched up and re-fired. I maintain that this was the cause of a great deal of loss, and if it hadn't been for the vases and plaques in the lustre and Persian designs, he could never have kept on with the expensive business. ' Also he never painted straight on to the tiles, like the vases, he did them on tissue paper. . , . Every Persian vase, or nearly so, turned out in his pottery had a starting by his own hand ; of course often he would suppl}^ drawings to be carried out by his painters, — but while he superintended the work he never allowed any of us to put our own designs on. ' I remember one occasion when I took it upon myself to break through this rule and finish a pot I had been all day at work on. Mr. De Morgan would begin a design, say with a flower or a bit of ornament, and then tell us to put just so many around ; and we had to wait sometimes hours at a time before he came back, and meanwhile we did not dare to put another little bit here or there. Well, on this particular pot there was just a little space left to finish the design, and I had been waiting such a very long time that at last I didn't think it could make any difference if I just finished it the same as the rest. No sooner had I done it, THE CHELSEA PERIOD 93 however, than he comes to finish it, and directly he says — " Why did you put that in ? " ' I answered (quite simply), " I thought it wouldn't matter and would save time ! " ' " / thought ! " he repeated — " Please understand I don't pay you to think ! If you think again, you must think elsewhere ! " * Ever after that I took care not to think, but calmly waited. It taught me a lesson for the future, although he wasn't cross about it. I must say he was a very kind-hearted man to all who worked for him, and always thinking of the welfare of his men. ' I remember seeing him make his own engravings for illus- trations of a Nursery book written by his sister ; ^ it was a very clever dodge — this is how it was done. He would get a sheet of window glass ; upon that he spread a very thin coating of his paste, or white ground, which he used for his tiles, just simply let it dry, without heating it, and he then used a fine needle and scratched or engraved the subject, just as anyone would do an engraving on steel ! And where he wanted greater depth in the block, he piled his paste high up. When all was then dried by the fire he pours over it, to the depth of a metal block, say three-quarters of an inch of molten sulphur or brim- stone. This used to come clean away, and he would send this block of sulphur to the printers and they could print direct from it, but on account of the pressure they used to make a metal cast instead. I should very much like to get one of those Nursery books illustrated by him ; they will be very valuable as a speci- men of his work. ' I remember when he was experimenting to get a material for making mosaics he tried several times by spreading his paste on both sides of a sheet of window glass, baking it, and absolutely splitting the sheet in two. I also was trying with him at the same time, and he allowed me to take some of his tile-patterns or paintings on the tissue paper which I took to a man who made ink bottles, and got him to throw a sheet of molten glass over the papers on an iron plate ; but it was not a success — no doubt if they had been rolled out while hot it would have been success- ful. ' Then I tried his paste upon a wet tile, and got Frank lies, who was his kiln man, to fire it, and it came clean away ; but Mr. De Morgan, being a chemist to the backbone, adopted it by using a solution that was always used for his mosaics. ' He and Mr. Morris tried a lot of mosaic work. The very first piece executed by Mr. De Morgan was a very large (almost life-size) mosaic ; it took me about eight weeks to do. I believe he sent it to America. It was the Virgin sitting down with the * On a Pincushion, by Mary De Morgan, published 1877. 94 WILLIAM DE MORGAN Book open on her lap ; the colours were simply magnificent — the dress a most beautiful blue. ' Mr. Morris was always coming round to get ideas from Mr. De Morgan, and would carry off his finest work. Mr. De Morgan just let him take it and never bothered. We used to hide fine pots sometimes, as we didn't like them going. ' There is a book in existence somewhere — perhaps stolen — a large book made out of brown paper with a number of small figures in white paper stuck on the brown by Mr. De Morgan. They were very wonderful. *Mr. De Morgan was an extraordinary man, and could do anything he turned his mind to. I certainly think all the years I have known him he was the cleverest man I ever came across. But I wonder why it is that writers who write about lustres in England, never recognize him as he ought to be. I have just seen a book where all the modern (so-called) producers of lustre are highly spoken of, but he is just casually mentioned as one who did tiles ; anyone would imagine from this that he was only a tile-maker, and didn't do fine pottery ! That's all the thanks his countrymen give him after spending several fortunes on it not only in perfecting the Lustre, but being, I maintain, the first to revive that beautiful lost Art, as well as impro\ang on the glorious Persian colouring — absolutely, I may say, giving it away — actually showing others how to do the Lustre. Yet not a writer has yet given him his due ! ' Another book I have read about Lustres — well, it seems to me they don't know anything about it, because what they caU Copper Lustre is nothing more nor less than Gold Lustre — they don't know the difference ! I maintain Mr. De Morgan's copper and moonlight, or silver Lustre, is the true style that Gubbio did. A lot of people think that the Majolica is made from copper, but this is easily tested in a very simple way without injuring the lustre, by just putting the tiniest spot of Fluoric acid on it — if it is copper it will immediately turn green ; if gold, or any other, it will turn brown or muddy colour.' We shall have occasion to refer again to the reminiscences of Mr. Bale, who, it must be added, states that he was never allowed by his master to see the firing process. For the present it may be well to glance at De Morgan's own account of the technical side of his work. In 1892 he read a paper before the Society of Arts for which he was given the Gold Meda.1, and although this belongs to a date later than the period with which We are now dealing, yet it epitomizes his efforts from the com- mencement of his career. It shows convincingly, moreover, not only his mastery of the chemical and mechanical details con- nected with that work, but his profound knowledge of the THE CHELSEA PERIOD 95 evolution of the whole Art of Pottery from almost prehistoric times. For although still fond of describing himself lightly as a dabbler in ceramics, he was, as in all else to which he devoted attention — no trifler, and his eager craftsmanship never resulted in a corresponding superficiality of method. After tracing the development of both experiment and achievement in Lustre from the remote ages, he remarks : — ' In the catalogue of the Great Exhibition of 1851, which is a sort of death register of the arts of antiquity, not a hint of lustred pottery appears. The modern revivals began with those at the Ginori factory at Doccia near Florence, and those of Carocci at Gubbio. ... (A story is told by Marchese Brancaleone of the re-discovery at Gubbio, that an old painted unfired piece, of the Giorgio time, was found in what was supposed to be his old kiln house. One of these fell into a scaldino, and remained in contact with the fuel. Next day it was found that a lustre had developed on it !) ' In spite of the Doccia and Gubbio reproductions, an impression continued to prevail that the process was a secret. I used to hear it talked about among artists, about twenty-five years ago, as a sort of potter's philosopher's stone. At that date the attempts to reproduce it in England had met with only very partial success, although an Italian had gone the round of the Staffordshire potteries showing how to do it. Even now it is sometimes spoken of as a secret by newspaper writers. My attention was attracted to some very interesting work of Massier, of Cannes, in the last Paris Exhibition, by a newspaper paragraph headed " Re-discovery of a Lost Art." ' In fact re-discovery appears to have dogged the footsteps of the lustres from the beginning. I re-discovered them myself in 1874 or thereabouts, and in the course of time some of my employes left me, and re-discovered them again somewhere else ! — I do not think any re-dis- coveries of this sort contributed in any way to the verj^ general diffusion of the process in the potteries at tins moment. . . . Perhaps we may make a new departure and consider that the process is as well known as any other process in the arts ; at any rate I will contribute what I can to make it so, by telling all I know of it myself. ' I got nothing from Piccolpasso, as I did not see the work till long after, nor from any printed information, except the chemical manuals I had read in youth. The clue was furnished by the yellow stain of silver on glass. When over-fired this shows iridescence, which is often visible on the opaque yellow visible from the outside on stained-glass windows. I tried the stain on Dutch tiles, and found them unsusceptible in the glass kiln, but in a small glass muffle, I found that both copper and silver gave a lustre when the gas was damped down so as to penetrate the muffle. I pursued my investigation, and after an interruption occasioned by setting the house on fire and burning the roof off, I developed the process in Chel- sea. This was in 1873-4, since which time it has not varied materially, although I have tried many experiments, with a view to improving it.' ^ With regard to these experiments which, at the date when this paper was read, had extended over a period of twenty years, the reader is recommended to study De Morgan's own account, i * ' Lustre-ware,' by William De Morgan. Journal of the Society oj Arts, pp. 761-763, June 24, 1892. 96 WILLIAM DE MORGAN which sufficiently proves — modestly as he would have depre- cated this conclusion — the tireless patience, ingenuity and learning which he had brought to bear upon this subject. ' As far as the technical difficulties of simply evolving a copper or a silver lustre go,' he says, ' I see no reason why, as in the case of the Arabs and Italians, every discovery should not be totally unconnected with every other.' And assuring his audience that if ' anyone sees his way to using the materials to good purpose, my experience, which I regard as an entirely chemical and mechanical one, is quite at his disposal,' he states : — ' As we now practise it [the lustre process] it is as follows. The pigment consists simply of white clay mixed with copper scale or oxide of silver, in proportion varying according to the strength of colour we desire to get. It is painted on to the already fused glaze with water, and enough gum- arabic to harden it for handling and make it work easily — a little lamp- black, or other colouring matter, makes it pleasanter to work with. I have tried many additions to this pigment . . . but without superseding the first simple mixture. . . .' But although De Morgan repudiated the idea that the art of reproducing the old lustre-ware was extinct till he revived it, the consensus of opinion unhesitatingly attributes its recrud- escence to his efforts, ^ as was also the revival of the beautiful old Persian ware, with its wonderful blues and greens, so vivid in hue that they pale all colours with which they come in contact.* Still more is the fact now being accepted that he was the greatest ceramic artist whom England has produced, not excepting Wedgwood, who, in certain technical details, and, above all, in mastery of design, failed to attain to the high level reached by De Morgan. At the date, however, when the latter read the * The EncyclopcBdia Britannica in a long article on ' Pottery ' published before De Morgan attained to the zenith of his career, stated : — ' Mr. De Morgan of Chelsea and Merton has perhaps made the greatest advances of all, having re-discovered the way to make and use the beauti- ful thickly-glazed blues and greens of the old Persian ware. ' He uses tliese splendid colours in designs conceived and drawn with the old spirit, but of sufficient originality to make them a real stage in the development of Ceramic Art ; not a mere archaeological revival of styles and methods which have long since ceased to have a significance and life of their own.' Mr. Ashbee, Civic Adviser to the City of Jerusalem, also remarks : — ' Much of the decorative work in such places as the Dome of the Rock consist of wonderfully glazed tiles. The secret of this work was lost and you can see how far the Staffordsliire people are from recovering it. There has only been one Enghshman who knew anj-ihing about it, and that was William De Morgan.' * The present writer has in her possession the original Persian tile wliich first suggested to De Morgan the idea of the wonderful colours of the ancient pottery — a tile circa 1400, with inch-thick Silurian earth still attached to the back ; and the depth of its rich, limpid colour is in no way distinguishable from De Morgan's reproductions. Bottle with Bulbous Body and Long Neck, painted in blue, in two shades of lustre, witli ships in a sea-fight Marlf, W. De Morgan, Fulham. F.P. Height, 23 inches. Diameter, 10 inches. William De Morgan fecit At the Victoria and Albert Museum. THE CHELSEA PERIOD 97 paper to which we have been referring, one of his audience, Mr. Forbes Robertson, pointed out that ' Mr. De Morgan was an example such as one rarely met with, of a combination of artistic training and a scientific habit of mind ; it was for lack of artistic training that our craftsmen in the applied Arts had hitherto, in a great measure, failed to produce the artistic results which were so much to be desired,' while Mr. Phene Spiers added : — ' He had had the pleasure of knowing Mr. De Morgan a great many years, and it was very seldom one met with such a combination of quaUtiea — with scientific training, artistic perception, and a vivid imagination, all of which were apparent in his productions. It was interesting to notice how the scientific side of his character gave him such a mastery of the technical part of the process : while his artistic powers gave beauty to the objects produced. It was very fortunate for this branch of art that it was taken up by a man of so many-sided a nature.' * The speaker at that date had little premonition of another strange development of De Morgan's ' many-sided nature ' which the years were to bring ; but there was one element in the potter's work wherein lay the true secret of its success, and this De Morgan himself did not minimize. ' I believe,' he concluded, ' we have learnt all there is to know of the chemical and mechanical side of the art, as it was known to the ancients. What remains to be discovered in order to produce original work, equal to that of the Renaissance, is not a technical mystery, but the secret of the spirit which animated the fifteenth century not only in Italy, but all through Europe. We have got the materials and many more, but the same causes that forbid the attainment of new beauty have stood between us and the revival of the old beauty. . , . Some day there may be a new imagery and a new art,' And it was in a measure this ' new imagery and new art ' which De Morgan himself inaugurated ; for the element in his work which eluded all imitators — the stamp of an individual genius — could not be conveyed even by his generous willingness to share the result of his labours with other strivers. It is indeed the psychology of the man as an artist even more than the technical triumph of the potter as a craftsman which makes the appeal to many lovers of the things he created. For in that work they read so unerringly the character of the worker — the minghng of poetry and fantasy, of idealism, of inexliaustible imagination, of irrepressible humour. The graceful sweeping lines, the delicate curves, the intricate orna- mentation with which we are familiar — and in the elaboration Df which almost as much loving care is devoted to the back of a plate as to the front — are all subordinate to some idea which * Reprinted in the Journal of the Society of Arts, June, 1892. G 98 WILLIAM DE MORGAN seems half a jest and half a vision from the Fairy-land of child- hood. Goggle-eyed fish, swimming in stiff procession through curving waves, provide the essential foreground to some weird ship of ingenious construction which dominates the scene. In one design, a shark is rising out of the water to stare at a vessel the bird figure-head of which returns the gaze with an uncanny suggestion of consciousness. In other sea-pieces, such as he loved, the sea-serpent and uncouth creatures of the deep entwine or peer through patterned tracery accentuating the mystery of things marine. On a dish of different suggestion, in colouring like the soft haze of some ' forest primeval,' a dragon, all shimmer- ing azure and silver scales, sits biting his own tail amid interlacing purple grapes. Fantastic beasts, with an anatomy all their own and a sinister menace wholly convincing, are as instinct with life and motion as are Landseer's faithful reproductions from Nature itself. Prancing horses, graceful stags, charging bulls, fierce tigers, playful elephants, distorted into grotesque outline and utihzed either as a central idea or as part of a scheme of decoration, vie with birds of equally bizarre conception. Owls and vultures glow redly like a materialization of the ruddy flames into which the pottery was once thrust ; eagles, there are, every plume of which shades to a glory of changing colour ; peacocks, the pompous conceit of which provokes laughter ; storks in prim array ; ducks striding through a tangle of trailing foliage, with outspread wings glinting in gold and silver. Yet all are monsters straight from Wonderland ; all seem reminiscent of that little child of the Nursery Journal with his ' peten ' world peopled with creatures transformed from reality by the magic of his tiny brain. And other plates and pots might be cited, of which the charm is still more elusive— opalescent plates w^hich seem an iridescent compound of moonlight and rainbow ; silver plates which shade to blue ; powder-blue which shade to amber and mauve ; copper which glow with the radiance of metal, then pale like vanishing fairy gold — infinite in colour and design, the versatility of the master-mind which created them is always apparent. But, out of her own heritage of art and poetry, few have caught the true measure of De Morgan's inspiration as has Miss Morris. Through and beyond the mere dexterity of hand and ingenuity of brain, she can feel the spirit which permeates the whole— which to her seems to reach out from a far past and to stretch forward to an unfathomable future : — ' A man's change of style, as his outer and inner self change in the journey through life, is always a matter to be noted. De Morgan's designs show types developing from the simple and occasionally naive work of the early Cheyne Row time to the bold mid-period with big strong masses enriched with smaller ornament, and thence to the later work, elaborate THE CHELSEA PERIOD 99 and intricate and full of curious invention. The time when he was stud^dng the finest of the potter's art at its source produced some splendid echoes of Asia Minor and Persian types, and later, his passion for the sea expressed itself in patterns that have to my mind a curious relation with Mycenaean work. No one would call it an attempt at reproduction ; it is rather as if the same forms suggested the same type of ornament to inventors so far sundered in time and space, as though the same impulse towards sea things, the same passion for the twilight gardens of the deep, had moved the nineteenth-century craftsman and those dwellers around the Middle Sea. ' Some of the decorations on the pots and vases . . . are wonderfully subtle both in form and colour ; two designs are specially in my mind : one (a pot) has a ground of green-white, on which is a lustre fish under a network of green-white ; another (a vase) has a pale pinkish lustre ground and lustre figures under a scale pattern of white. The atmospheric impression obtained by this plane upon plane is remarkable, and the simplified concentration of the symbol-drawing stimulates imagination and produces the feeling of reality — the vivid dream-reahsm which is more especially the possession of artist and poet. The deeps of the sea — fishes seen behind clustering sea-weed in a pale green light — are suggested in several of these '' plane upon plane " patterns. . . . The finest periods of art give us, in textiles, in ceramics and other crafts, countless examples of one pattern laid upon another, but I cannot at the moment recall any example of note in which the slighter, mechanical pattern, reversing the usual practice, is used as a veil for the principal design. I hope it is not straining a point to dwell on this feature in some of De Morgan's patterns ; the suggestion of an essential seen through shimmering water or other screen of detail ; it occurs to me as a quite unconscious expression — perhaps notable only to anyone on the look out for such expressions — of the reaching through a tangle to things that count : peering through the ordered pattern of trivial matters to the real life behind. This is doubtless reading big significance into a small decorative effort, and one is far from desiring the primrose by the river's brim to be anything but a primrose ; but as half the beliefs of long-dead races are embodied in the symbol drawing of their " decorative art " (to use the tiresome phrase in mere shorthand parlance) one may be forgiven for pausing over any indication that seems to link the searchings of a modern mind with the searchings of the ancient world. ' The special bent of De Morgan's invention was in winding beast- forms and great sweeping lines round difficult shapes ; the more difficult the space to be filled and the more fantastic the beast -pattern, the more enjoyment is evident. The story told is vivid and apt . . . many an episode of the drama of nature has been concentrated into the symbol drawing, the first word, and it may be the latest, in all human decoration of life on tliis earth. One design for a plate he has named " Stranded fish," a monstrous creature taking up one-half of the circle, while the other is occupied by tiny men in tiny boats hurrying to secure the spoil. Another he labels " Sea-birds' Island," another " The Snake-eater," another shows a lizard dancing gaily on his tail and smiling. These and many others are racy jokes — and so De Morganesque in their daring and enjoyment ! Among the designs for tiles may be noted a splendid wild boar, an amazing chameleon, a serpent charming a rabbit, a frankly-bored leopard — a handsome beast, and a hippo shedding absurd giant tears. There is a spoonbill, too, trying to get its bill into a De Morgan pot (with a background of Chelsea Church and the factory chimneys of the Surrey side of the Thames). ' The freedom of his studies for designs puts them (if I may once more 100 WILLIAM DE MORGAN note the comparison) on a level with the spirited drawing of Mediterranean ancient art. Some bird-drawings, in two sweeps of the brush, have a Chinese swiftness and crispness. ... In the midst of all this rich and varied decorative invention one comes upon pots and vases which are severely simple — just a fine spacing of dark and light, and a sightly dis- position of some plain line-and-spot bordering. They are masterly in their efEect of noble emphasis. ' The colouring of this ware, with its Eastern force and depth, needs no description, though one may note the principal colours used, the poly- chromatic pieces have a magnificent dark blue, and real malachite green ; of course a manganese purple of that uneven " atmospheric" quaUty that is familiar in Eastern art ; an Indian red is used, also orange, but more rarely, and a pure lemon yellow ; black, of course, of different depths. These are the usual colours ; but to name them is to give no idea of their quality and arrangement — to tell how the jewel-like birds fly across a blue-black sky, how the palhd fish shine through green water ; how the turquoise and purple flowers star the wooded lawns, how the python glitters in his forest lair ; such is our potter's handling of incomparable material.' ^ The quotation from the above article is given at some length in order to convey adequately the happy manner and matter of it. Meanwhile, to summarize certain conclusions, two points may be emphasized. First, that in De Morgan's successful productions there is a peculiar softness combined with brilliance to which none of his imitators have attained. Secondly, that a noticeable sense of life and suppleness is characteristic of all the living forms which he represents, and renders them easily dis- tinguishable from the work of other artists by whom such types are utilized as a mere form of inanimate decoration. Even a superficial observer may remark that the most grotesque bogey De Morgan ever painted is alive and can boast an individuahty all its own 1 Further, much has been said at all times respecting the * ' WUUam De Morgan.' Article in the Burlington Magazine, August and September, 191 7, by Miss May Morris. THE CHELSEA PERIOD lOl ' secret ' of De Morgan's process ; yet, as far as he was concerned this ' secret ' — the outcome of experiment with pigments and close study extending over forty years — was one which he was always ready to share with fellow-workers. Only to the idle inquirer who believed himself about to fathom a possible source of wealth, did De Morgan ever turn a deaf ear. A story runs that one day a man of this description tried diplomatically to learn the process employed by De Morgan. ' I wish you would describe to me how you first set to work ? ' he said. And De Morgan told him. ' And what do you do next ? ' said the friend. Again De Morgan told him. ' And finally ? ' asked the questioner, scarcely able to keep the note of triumph out of his voice. ' Oh — finally ? ' said De Morgan with engaging ingenuous- ness, 'finally, you see, I just label the thing two-and-sixpence — and it doesn't sell ! ' In truth his wife that was to be, in the years that were to come, solved and defined the mystery which bafiled the un- initiated. ' The secret,' she said, in answer to a similar inquiry, ' is — William himself ! ' CHAPTER V THE MERTON PERIOD 1881-1885 IT must not be imagined from the foregoing chapter that De Morgan's increasing success in the manufacture of pottery was accompanied by any corresponding financial prosperity. From the humble beginning when he experimented with a solitary workman to aid him, to the stage when he kept a factory going with a number of employees and busy kilns at work, marked an advance due solely to his enthusiasm and energy. To run an experimental business such as he was doing, with no substratum of capital — a business, moreover, which required a never-ceasing outlay and weekly cash payments — was to live perpetually on the brink of a precipice ; and with his complete absence of any commercial instinct, it is only surprising that he so far succeeded in balancing expenditure and receipts as to be able to keep disaster at bay. ' It is not well organized,' he said once quaintly of has factory, ' it is very ill de-morganized, in fact ! ' and characteristic stories still survive of his method of dealing with prospective purchasers which are curiously reminis- cent of the conduct of his grandfather, William Frend, when the latter emptied his wine-casks in the streets of Canterbury. One day a millionaire arrived in the show-room at Orange House full of anxiety to choose some handsome pot — the more expensive the better. De Morgan himself wandered round with the would-be purchaser, pointing out some of his most successful achievements. Then an idea occurred to him. ' What do you want it for ? ' he queried. ' I want it for a wedding present.' ' Is it for So-and-so's wedding ? ' inquired De Morgan, naming a big function which was to take place the following week. ' Yes,' was the rejoinder. ' Oh, my dear chap,' exclaimed De Morgan with anxiety, ' don't give the bride any more of my pots — she's inundated with them ! You take my advice — just go round to Mappin & Webb's and choose her a nice useful piece of silver. She'll like it ever 50 much better 1 ' 102 THE MERTON PERIOD 103 The prospective customer, somewhat amazed, thanked De Morgan for his disinterested suggestion, and hurried off to choose a piece of silver. On another occasion a man came intending to give a large order for some tiles with zoological designs. ' What do you want them for ? ' asked De Morgan. ' It is to tile my nursery,' was the reply. ' They would be washable and clean.' ' Oh, if that's what you want them for,' said De Morgan, ' do let me advise you — my tiles, you see, would come expensive, and they chip very easily. Just you go to Minton — he provides a nice cheap tile quite good enough for your purpose, and it would save you no end of money ! ' Again a grateful customer departed — to spend his money elsewhere. Nor did De Morgan play his cards well when other opportunities offered. On one occasion a Royal Lady signified her gracious desire to inspect his pottery. Having walked through his shov/- room, she purchased a tile worth a pound and asked for the loan of a panel worth fifty, the design of which she wished to copy. ' I would suggest,' said De Morgan firmly, ' that you first copy the tile you have bought, and by that time I shall know if I can spare the panel." The Princess took the hint — and her departure ; but De Morgan's methods sufficiently demonstrate why his succh d'estime was slow to assume the guise of more tangible assets. Nevertheless, to all who knew him, his inherent simplicity of character seemed as inevitable a part of a unique personality as were his originality of outlook and quaint, dreamy fashion of speech. Of the latter — enhanced by the long intervals of silence which had won him the name of the Mouse — it has already been pointed out that it is impossible to convey any adequate impres- sion, since the happy nonsense of his remarks, reduced to paper and print, loses its peculiar merriment. But the ripple of laughter which followed him through this grey world still finds an echo in the hearts of his friends. A few stories may be quoted at random. Anything peculiar in names always arrested his attention. On hearing one day that Mrs. Burne-Jones was going to Nettleship to have her eyes tested, he observed reflectively, ' I wonder how Nettleship likes to be addressed — " Yes, your Nettleship ! " and " No, your Nettleship ! " ' Another day, after an animated conversation had been going on around him for some time, in which he took no part — remaining throughout apparently absorbed in thought— a friend at last ventured to ask him what he was thinking of. All present expected to hear that he had been revolving some abstruse problem connected with his work, 104 WILLIAM DE MORGAN and his answer came as a shock : ' I was thinking,' he said seriously, ' how expensive it would be for a centipede if it wore boots ! ' On another occasion, watching the multitude of twittering sparrows disporting themselves in a London garden, he observed, ' What a pity they can't all be inoculated with the song of nightingales 1 ' Once when he was staying in the country with his old friend Henry Holiday, who was now married, wandering round the hall he noticed an elaborate barometer hanging on the wall. In the centre was written, Admiral Fitzroy's remarks ; and on the left, ' When falling ' ; on the right, ' When rising.' Suddenly, into the midst of the desultory conversation at the other end of the hall, penetrated a small thoughtful voice from the spot where De Morgan stood : ' I should have thought that Admiral Fitzroy's remarks " When falling " would have been more forcible ! ' During his visit, Mrs. Holiday mentioned to him several novels which she thought it might interest him to read ; and thinking afterwards that he might not remember the right titles, she sent him a written list. He wrote back thanking her politely for her kindness, but concluded blandly : ' I haven't the slightest intention of reading any one of the books you mention ! ' Another time she knitted him a scarf for his neck ; and on again writing to express his thanks, he remarked : ' I shall never now be able to say that I don't care a (w)rap about any- thing ! ' One day she was present with him at a private view of some pictures by Eleanor Fortescue Bi ickdale. The place was crowded, so that it was almost impossible to move, and smartly dressed people, who had ostensibly come to see the Exhibition, were treating it as a social function, standing about talking, devouring sandwiches and drinking tea, with their backs turned brazenly to the beautiful works upon the walls. Mrs. Holiday remarked upon this feature of the gathering to William De Morgan, and he smiled a little sadly. ' Yes,' he said, ' there is all the difference in the world between the elite and the elect ! ' On another occasion he went with her to see some new fabrics of artistic design which were being exhibited at Morris's. The shopmen gave themselves considerable airs, and behaved towards the two inquirers with a condescension which De Morgan resented. ' I wish to Goodness,' he observed with unusual asperity as he walked away, ' that they would not treat us as if they were all Ptolemies ! ' Passing the window of a well-known shop Mrs. Holiday once saw there displayed some of Maw's pottery masquerading as De Morgan ware. Entering, she remonstrated warmly with the shopman upon the iniquity of trying to palm off any works of ^'^^:±!U^ /2^ ^A^ ■\ MORGAN u>2. a:] Cc. ti^ryJl ^^ n^Qji CL CCrU^d I ^/ct^ oO ^ 77h (2ci'ffu. UA. ^ ^l/jMl^ y or UAiC^ J I THE MERTON PERIOD 105 art upon the public under a wrong name ; but failing to con\dnce the man of his error, she wrote indignantly to ask De Morgan to interfere in the matter. ' / shan't bother ! ' he wrote back placidly ; ' imitation is the sincerest form of pottery ! ' ' In the matter of riddles,' recalls Miss Hohday, ' he was quite without shame. A few drift across my recollection in their boyish foolishness. " Why is a serpent like the dome of Saint Paul's ? " " Because it h{is)s ! " " Why is an Archbishop cut in halves like a man recovering from a faint ? " " Because he's comin' to (two)." ' On one occasion he said he had invented an excellent answer but could not find a question to it. The whole completed ran thus : — ' Where did Ovid meet Julia's father ? Ovid Methimathisorf&ces.' But one feature of De Morgan's conversation never imderwent any change in youth or age. In his presence no one was allowed to pursue a quarrel, and if the talk became ill-natured, he usually contrived to change the topic, or to rob it of its venom. On one occasion some people had been adversely discussing the character of a well-known man, and De Morgan, for a time, maintained silence. At length he interrupted : ' I cannot think,' he said, ' why you are all so down on poor C. R., except ' — apologetically — ' that he is unmarried to a Dutch lady ! ' During the early part of De Morgan's career he snatched little time for relaxation ; nevertheless, the atmosphere of his home- life, with its constant influx of visitors, social, scientific and artistic, formed an essential part of his environment, as did the constant companionship of his sister Mary. From a brusque, clever child, the latter had grown into a talented woman, who amused people by her witty sayings and quick repartees. In appearance she was in marked contrast to her brother, being small and slight, with china-blue eyes and regular features, while her quick, sharp voice accentuated a somewhat abrupt manner. As already mentioned, De Morgan, in 1877, illustrated a book of Fairy Tales published by her, entitled On a Pincushion. She afterwards published The Necklace of Princess Fiorimonde, illustrated by Walter Crane, and other children's books, the last of which, The Wind Fairies, published in 1900, was dedicated to Angela, Dennis and Clare Mackail, the grandchildren of Bume- Jones. In 1887 she also brought out anonymously a striking novel of which her brother suggested the title — A Choice of Chance. It is an intricate and unusual plot, well told, and with the interest cleverly sustained throughout ; but unfortu- io6 WILLIAM DE MORGAN nately she published it under the pseudonym ' William Dobson,' adopting the surname of her grandfather's family, and thus sacrificing much of the interest which would have attached to it had she sent it out into the world under her own name. Un- reasonably disappointed at its reception, she never wrote another ; but the gift of story-telling was evidently in the family ; and Sophia De Morgan, whose realistic and graphic writing has already been remarked, was herself the author of a work of fiction which she never published. William, on the contrary, at this date never wrote anything except a few desultory verses scribbled in jest. All the accounts later promulgated respecting early manuscripts written by him and destroyed are entirely without foundation. Besides her gift of penmanship, Mary De Morgan was accredited with a remarkable power of fortune-telling which she used to exercise for the private amusement of her friends. While her brother was still at 40 Fitzroy Square, Miss Laura Hertford, who occupied the upper part of the house, gave a party to about a dozen people, at which were present Mary and Annie De Morgan, with William, and Mr. Sandwick, who relates the following stories : Meeting Mary for the first time on this occasion, he had his hand told by her, and on seeing it she exclaimed : ' But you ought not to be here ! Your Line of Life is broken just before this date ! However, as you arc here, it must indicate that you have recently had a most narrow squeak of your life. ' ' This was true,' testifies Mr. Sandwick ; ' about six months before my doctor had given me up, with a possible four-and-twenty hours to live ! ' At the same party a more remarkable incident occurred. Mary was asked to ' tell ' the hand of a house surgeon from University College Hospital, and while glibly predicting his fate, she paused abruptly and refused to say more. After he was gone, her friends, feeling convinced from her manner that she had deliberately left untold something she had seen, begged her to say what this was. ' I saw that he dies from drowning,' she said, ' and that his fiancee is also drowned by the capsizing of a boat at sea, w^iich he will witness from the shore.' Little over a year after both events occurred ; and the man was drowned at the same spot as the girl to whom he was engaged. Another time, however, when she was telling fortunes at a bazaar, a stranger came to have his hand read. Mary foretold him a future full of picturesque incidents, one of these being that he would go to another country, and would there meet with a carriage accident, in consequence of which he would fall in love with, and marry, a girl whom he would rescue from beneath the horses' hoofs. Years afterwards a man whom she did not recog- nize came up to Mary at a party and introduced himself. ' I THE MERTON PERIOD 107 have always wanted to meet you again,' he said. 'Long ago you told my fortune with an amount of detail. It all came true ! I went to India, I there met with a carriage accident ; I rescued a girl from beneath the horses' hoofs, and I married her. Every- thing else that you told me has happened.' ' I suppose,' said Mary De Morgan, ' that you will not believe me if I tell you that, at that time I knew nothing about palmistry — I hadn't studied it at all — but my friends bullied me to help them, and as it was for charity, I did it. Everything that I told you was just chance — I made it up out of my head as I went along ! ' ' Then if you weren't a palmist, you are clairvoyante ! ' exclaimed the man, unconvinced ; ' it could not be mere coincidence.' The younger generation of De Morgans had carried on the tradition started by their parents, and were greatly interested in uncanny occurrences and psychical research. They did not, however, regard such investigations with the profound seriousness exhibited by their mother, and indeed they inherited from their father an absence of bias and a keen sense of humour in which she was perhaps lacking. It says much, therefore, for the perfect harmony existing between her and her son that she did not resent the frivolity with which he occasionally treated what to her were matters of the utmost gravity. On one occasion she returned from a walk greatly perturbed. ' I have been in Battersea Park, ' she announced to a casual visitor ominously, ' and I had a terrible shock — I came face to face with William's wraith ! ' ' Just one of Ma's Bogies ! ' explained William in his high falsetto. On another occasion she was describing how, in a particular alley in the neighbourhood, passers-by after dark complained that things were hurled at them from over a high wall ' by evil spirits. ' ' Why not by some grubby little boy ? ' queried William, at once effectually disposing of undue interest in the phenomena. In like manner Mary occasionally made jest of matters which to her mother were entirely convincing. In one instance when the subject of Spiritualism was under discussion in a room full of earnest believers, all profoundly impressed with their individual experiences, she threw her evidence into the opposite scale with a decisiveness which descended upon her audience with the effect of a bomb-shell. ' I was at a seance lately, ' she announced in her clear, penetrating voice, ' and there were seven people present. Each of them had recently lost a relation, and they had come to communicate with the deceased. There was a materialization, and each of the seven persons at once recognized it to be the relation he or she had lost. They all began to quarrel when any- one else claimed it, and in the end all became violently abusive. / saw in it only the medium dressed up I ' io8 WILLIAM DE MORGAN At that date, however, there was a great mania for all Spiritualistic phenomena. Table-turning, introduced from America circa 185^ and at first a subject of ridicule, had since become a fashionable pastime in which beUevers and unbelievers ahke dabbled for their entertainment so that the craze for seances was universal. While living in Cheyne Row, the De Morgans had for many years a young servant who exliibited peculiar mediumistic powers, and who was much in request at their experiments in this cormexion. Anxious to avoid all possible chance of trickery, William once jestingly begged the 'spirits' to transfer the rapping from the table at which they were seated to a cupboard on the other side of the room. This promptly took place, all subsequent raps sounding loudly from that isolated article of furniture. It may be added that the servant-girl in question died of consumption at the age of twenty-seven, and for three years before her death all mediumship deserted her ; although she was on one occasion offered ten pounds by a visitor to exhibit her former powers, she was entirely unable to do so. Apart from her Spiritualistic investigations, Sophia De Morgan was much interested in mesmerism, which she practised as a healing factor, and respecting which she relates the following : — ' About the year 18^9, or earlier, I mesmerized a girl of eleven- and-a-half years old for fits, which she had had from birth. Her mother was epileptic ; but I have no medical statement of the nature of the girl's complaint. She was very ignorant and stupid, never having been able to learn, owing to her bad health, The mother was a poor char-woman or laundress, also stupid, but honest. ' The girl became clairvoyante soon after the treatment began ; but her lucidity was very uncertain. I never had reason to believe in its occurrence except on five or six occasions, on five of which it was so thoroughly proved that imposture was out of the question. I mean that she saw and reported things of which it was impossible for her to have obtained any knowledge m her normal state. . . . She had also the faculty of mental traveUing, which she showed plainly at least four times. ' The girl became very ill after the treatment had gone on for a few weeks ; and not knowing how to proceed, I wrote to Dr. Elleston, describing the case and her symptoms, and asking his advice. He told me to persevere without fear, as it was probably a crisis and would end in recovery. I went on accordingly, until, a day or two after, a discharge of water from the head com- pletely relieved her, and she had no more fits. She entirely lost her susceptibility to Mesmerism after this time. ' I also mesmerized a woman who was pronounced incurable by Mr. R. Quain and other University College doctors, (Mr. THE MERTON PERIOD 109 Quain's words to my husband were, " The woman must die.") She was cured in about three months. She became perfectly rigid after a few passes, and I could then hang a 12 lb, weight for some minutes on her extended arm.' These experiments took place when William was a small boy ; but in 1877, Dr. Carpenter, in his famous book on Mesmerism, spiritualism, etc., gave a misleading account of the proceedings and particularly of the Professor's attitude towards them. William forthwith, in a spirited correspondence, convicted Dr. Carpenter of error, and forced him to retract, and apologize for, his misstatements. In 1882, Sophia De Morgan published a Memoir of her husband ; and previous to its appearance William found himself again involved in an unexpected controversy. Throughout his life, one of his abiding characteristics remained an unwavering devotion to, and admiration of, his father ; finding therefore the accuracy of the latter called in question, he once more took up the cudgels in defence of the Professor's memory. On November 5, 1864, Augustus De Morgan had reviewed in the AthcncBum Herbert Spencer's Principles of Biology, treating the work with less deference than the author held to be its due. Seeing that the Professor had omitted to quote in full his ' proximate definition of Life,' Spencer, in his Study of Sociology, drew attention to the fact, sharply criticizing ' the perversity of Professor De Morgan's judgments ' and his ' recklessness of misrepresentation.' Those who wish to study a fair statement of both sides of the controversy can refer to the Memoir of Augustus De Morgan, where, on page 162, they will find the case set forth clearly by William De Morgan for insertion in his mother's book ; but the duel which ensued privately between himself and the angry philosopher would fill a bulky pamphlet. Spencer at last consented to remove the ofiending passage on the following terms : — ' . . . as I do not wish to give needless pain to any member of the late Professor De Morgan's family, I will, in an edition now going through the press, omit that part to which you refer. ' In the small edition, however, which is stereotyped, all I can do is to alter the plate, and replace tliis passage by a less specific statement — one in which Prof. De Morgan's defect of judgment is commented upon in general terms. That he was prone to direct a microscopic attention to some one element of a question, and, while so doing, to ignore other elements l>4ng around, is a fact which not I only have observed, but wliich I have heard remarked by sundry others. Much injustice, I doubt not quite unintentional, has, in his criticisms, resulted from this peculiarity.' William De Morgan to Herbert Spencer. ' June 8, 1880. ' I am quite convinced that you would not willingly give pain to anyone — but the doctrine that the feelings of survivors ought to be spaired no WILLIAM DE MORGAN would interfere so seriously with free criticism of the works of deceaapd authors, that I for one should never urge it nor be a party to its adoption. Better apply the knife freely and when the constitution of the patient begins to suffer, it will be time to talk of sparing the feelings of bystanders. ' Your criticism of my father seems to me in some respects far from an uitfair one as it now stands. But I should contend that it amounted to no more than this — that he was occasionally one-sided. I have noticed in the controversies in which he engaged that there was an appearance (to the uninitiated) that other parties were othersided. ' Perhaps if I were obliged to say exactly what my own experience of his method was, I should say that (when the choice lay between two such alternatives) he preferred to take a direct view of one side of a p}Tamid to the exclusion of the other three, rather than to place his eye at the apex, and so get an imperfect view of the three sides to the exclusion of the fourth — which is certainly not an uncommon way. But in matters where he was closely concerned, I tliink he was just as likely as others to walk all round the pj'^ramid. ' As to his accuracy of quotation, I should never feel any misgiving whatever, in any sense short of ascribing to him infallibility.' Over a year later De Morgan returned to the attack and drew frorji Spencer a letter which is of interest as it contains what he emphatically states to be his final definition of Life. William De Morgan to Herbert Spencer. ' September 3, 1881. ' May I trouble you with an inquiry relating to the subject of our correspondence of last June twelvemonth. ' You will remember that the matter in question was a misquotation imputed by you to my father, the late Professor De Morgan. ' I wish to ascertain from you whether you called his attention at the time by letter or otherwise to the misapprehension contained in his review ? ' I have not seen the more recent edition of your work but I presume it is out, and contains the note you were so good as to forward me in proof. ' I believe I have your final definition of Life accurately in my memory, but lest I should have wTongly accepted (as such) another proximate definition, will note it here, and perhaps you will kindly correct me if I am mistaken. — " The continuous adjustment of internal relations to external rslations." I trouble you on these points as I shall probably have an opportunity of touching on the subject in a forthcoming Memoir by my mother.' Herbert Spencer to William De Morgan. ' September 20, 1881. • Sir.— ' I have delayed rephnng to your note of September 3, because absence in the country, where I had no means of access to the Principles of Biology, prevented me from giving the exact words of the definition. ' It is well that you have, as you explain, taken the precaution of ascertaining whether you were right in suppo.sing that the definition which you quote is the final one, since you would have, in another way, misrepresented the facts, had you quoted it without explanation. The definition which you quote, though it is one that I have finally given as a THE MERTON PERIOD iii brief and abstract form of the definition previously arrived at, and one which might be conveniently used for certain purposes, is nevertheless not the one which I decided upon as most specific and fitted for most general use. I have said that " so abstract a formula as tliis is scarcely fitted for our present purpose, and that its terms are to be reserved for such use as occasion may dictate." The definition which I have dis- tinctly chosen for habitual use runs thus — Life is " the definite combina- tion of heterogeneous changes, both simultaneous and successive, in correspondence with external co-existence and sequences.''' It is the last clause, here marked in italics, which was omitted in the proximate defini- tion quoted by your father, and the absence of which makes all the differ- ence in the meaning. ' Faithfully yours, ' Herbert Spencer.' Some years afterwards, De Morgan had occasion to call on Herbert Spencer, and the interview was amicable on both sides, Spencer was at that time boarding in the house in Bayswater kept by three old ladies who, amongst his friends, went irrev- erently by the name of his harem. On his first taking up his residence with them, they considered it necessary to entertain him, and one of them laboriously set to work to enliven him with polite conversation. Spencer bore it with commendable patience for a space ; but at last, interrupting the flow of platitudes, he observed pointedly, ' Madam, I am thinking how particularly well you would look seated under that tree in the garden yonder ! ' The lady took the hint and left the philosopher to ruminate at his own sweet will. Not long afterwards a friend of De Morgan's remarked to Spencer facetiously, ' I hear that you have now a regular harem ' [pronouncing this hare-em]. ' I have nothing of the sort ! ' responded Spencer cantanker- ously. ' But De Morgan tells me that you yourself said so ! ' ' I said nothing of the kind ! ' reiterated Spencer caustically. ' What / said I had was a har-reem ! ' But Spencer was not the only churlish philosopher with whom De Morgan crossed lances. He used often to go for walks with his neighbour, Thomas Carlyle, on which occasions he found great difficulty in understanding what that tactiturn companion was saying, when at intervals he launched into conversation, so broad was his Scottish accent. On account of this known intimacy with the great man, De Morgan was deputed to invade; him with a view to enlisting his sympathy in a scheme evolved by William Morris. For long, Morris had seen and lamented the ruthless re- construction, or rather destruction, of many national treasures of aichitecture and irreplaceable landmarks of history, while none had power to stay the hands of ignorant vandalism. This Iia WILLIAM DE MORGAN was an evil which he reahzed could only be combated by some organized and permanent body which could make its influence feUt, and he therefore inaugurated a ' Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings,' privately nicknamed by him ' The Anti- scrape.' He pressed De Morgan into the service, and one of the first undertakings which the latter was asked to tackle was to secure the coveted name of Carlyle as a member of the newly- fledged association. De Morgan set about his unwelcome task conscientiously, but with trepidation ; and many years after- wards, for the benefit of Mr. Mackail, the son-in-law of Bume- Jones, he thus recorded his experiences : — '. . . Just at the starting of the Society, Morris asked me to propose to Carlyle to become a member — I sent the prospectus to Carlyle through his niece, Miss Aitken, and afterwards called by appointment to elucidate further. The philosopher didn't seem in the mood to join anything — in fact it seemed to me that the application was going to be fruitless, but fortunately Sir James Stephen was there when I called, and Carlyle passed me on to him with the suggestion that I had better make him a convert first. However, Sir J. declined to be converted on the grounds that the owners or guardians of ancient buildings had more interest than anyone else in preserving them, and would do it, and so forth. I replied with a case to the contrary, that of Wren's churches and the Ecclesiastical Commissions. This brought Carlyle out with a panegyric of Wren, who was, he said, a really great man ' of extraordinary patience with fools,' and he glared round at the company reproachfully. However, he promised to think it over, chiefly, I think, because Sir J. F. S. had rather implied that the Society's object was not worth thinking over. He added one or two severe comments on the contents of space. I heard from his niece next day that he was wavering, and that a letter from Morris might have a good effect. I asked for one and received the following : — ' HoRRiNGTON House, April 3. ' My DEAR De Morgan, — ^ ' I should be sorry indeed to force Mr. Carlyle' s inclinations on the matter in question ; but if you are seeing him I think you might point out to him that it is not only artists or students of art that we are appealing to, but thoughtful people in general. For the rest it seems to me not so much a question whether we are to have old buildings or not, as whether they are to be old or sham old ; at the lowest I want to make people see that it would surely be better to wait while architecture and the arts in general are in their present experimental condition before doing what can never be undone, and may at least be ruinous to what it intends to preserve. ' Yours very truly, ' William Morris.' The gist of what follows lies in the fact that Morris's prejudice THE MERTON PERIOD 113 against the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was carried to a pitch of unreasonableness. The works of Wren and his suc- cessors were anathema to him ; wherefore his feehngs at one result of De Morgan's mission — and the manner in which his friends rejoiced at those feelings — may be dimly imagined. ' Next day,' continues De Morgan, ' I received from Miss Aitken a letter from Carlyle to the Society accepting membership. It made special allusion to Wren, and spoke of his city churches as marvellous works, the like of which we shall never see again, or nearly that. Morris had to read this at the first public meeting, you may imagine that he did not relish it, and one heard it in the way he read it — I fancy he added mentally, and a good job too ! ' At the date of this letter, Mr. Mackail was collecting material for his Life of Morris, and De Morgan, then casting his mind back through a somewhat hazy past, was distressed to find that, out of the accumulated reminiscences of a lifetime, only trivial incidents concerning his early friendship with Morris still clung to his memory. ' I have a good deal of difficulty,' he continues, ' in recalling how much or how little I knew Morris before this date, which was, I suppose, '76. I first saw him in Red Lion Square . . . and I cannot reconcile it with reason that I knew him for ten years after that, and can recall nothing (by effort, at the moment — there's no knowing what may turn up), all through that period ! Any- how, memory is blank until the foundation of the Ancient Build- ings, when I went to the first meeting at Q. Square. He asked me to come over to Horrington House, and one afternoon I went, and I remember he said plenty worth remembering, but — can't recollect what — indeed, I only recall that he denounced a beastly tin-kettle of a bell in a chapel close by, which, he said, went wank, wank, wank, until he was nearly driven mad. After that I saw him oftener, as I was a punctual, though useless, committee man at the A.B. . . . ' Reading through the foregoing has reminded me of once when I came in at Merton, and found him at work on a large drawing for a woven stuff, that conversation led to my remarking that I didn't know when he found time to write Epic poems, on which he said, " Oh, of course I make them while I'm doing this sort of work. A chap ought to be able to make an Epic and do this sort of work at the same time — of course ! " I don't think he was altogether joking, but meant that he found the ornamental designing come easy. ' I've another little scrap of his writing that is pre-Mertonian. It's an acrostic on a post card, and belongs to the political period of 1879, and the meeting at St. James's Hall.' At that date Morris had been swept into politics by his burning indignation against an epidemic of revolting barbarism. The H 114 WILLIAM DE MORGAN collapse of the Turkish Government in its European provinces during the year 1876 had been accompanied by massacres and torture on a hideous scale in Bulgaria, and the news of this in England although at first treated with apathy, gradually, as the facts became more fully realized, roused an overwhelming storm of protest and horror. Into all work connected with the Eastern Question Morris flung himself heart and soul, and his first plunge into the political arena was succeeded by a vigorous political campaign as treasurer of the National Liberal League. De jMorgan writes to Mackail : — ' The anti-Turk Crusade, and the St. James's Hall meetings having landed Morris in politics (leastways I never heard anything of his politicalizing before then), an atmosphere of politics rankled in previously peaceful quarters, and all our souls were rent with a powerful hatred of Tories — Tories were our hetes noires in them days, and in 1880 we rushed to the poll. My own feelings took the form of Acrostics, and sim'lar — I rather think your daughter Angela's grandpa has one which expresses my faith that by elect- ing Sir Charles Dilke for Chelsea the millennium will come all the quicker. He keeps it among his testimonials to Baronets, to gratify his class prejudices — I have one from him on the word Dilke, of which the fourth line is — ' Kum to grub at seven- thirty,' and I have one (which is what I am driving at) from Morris as follows : — Election Day, 1880. ■ How sweet the never-failing Spring conies round, Up comes the svm we thought the sea had drown' d Rending the clouds that darkened England's heart. Right tears the veil of stealthy Wrong apart. And we, long-worn, long faithful, glad of face, Hoist the torn banner to its ancient place . . . That's the first part — Hurrah — I will do the rest if I can — Gladstone fat Middlesex ! ' ' This is written on a post card. He never did the rest. I recoUect going to some other political meeting where some capital verses he had written for the purpose were sung by an audience chiefly of working men. The rendering was not equal to the verses. ' During this General Election in 1880, when Sir Charles Dilke and the historian Firth were standing for the same constituency, Burne- Jones, Morris and De Morgan bombarded each other with post cards represent 'ng electioneering propaganda, many of these taking the form of acrostics and one from Philip Burne- Jones being ingeniously planned so that the commencement of the line* spells Dilke, and their conclusion Firth. To this De Morgan replied, also on a post card : — THE MERTON PERIOD "5 ^ Never vote for Inverarie Out upon him — he's a Tory ; Similar, don't vote for Brown He's an adjective and noun ! But would you flood the land with milk And honey, back the Bart. — " Sir Dilke '* 9 Likewise, although he's got no Sir, th E candidate whose name is FIRTH. Having thus released Literature from the absurd shackles into which she appeared to be drifting, I remain Liberally your aff. D.M. In another mood of irresponsible nonsense De Morgan wrote a communication in prose to Burne- Jones on three post cards, all posted the same day, and of which the sequence is indicated by the number of E's employed in the initial which represents Burne- Jones's Christian name: — 1st post card. E. BuR.vE-JoNES, Esq. Quoth Benjamin Disraeli — ' Well f It's no use looking glum ! Impt zrium has gone to Hell And Libertas has come ' (but he looks ver^ glum nevertheless — pulse 720,000, and no pi umpers !) Did you forge a very pretty acrostic on 1 Hurrah, and try to pass it off on me as though it were by W — 11 — -m. 2nd post card. E. E. BuRNE-JoNES, Esq. M — rr — s of Emperor's Square, Bloomsbury ? It's very well done if you did. Now I'll tell you an election story. I went into a Pub : and addressed the owner — ' Sir,' I said, ' I hear that Firth is in as well as Dilke — lo paean I ' This I spake in the exuberance of my spirits. But the Publican replied — ' Ah ! and / 'ope 'e aint ! That's where you and I differ.' ^rd post card. E. E. E. BuRNE-JoNES, Esq. But I am aware that I am becoming prolix — - Your aff. D.M. Comink to-morrow evg. ii6 WILLIAM DE MORGAN The result of the Election was a triumph for the Gladstone Government, and the shower of post cards between the friends ceased with one of mock-sympathy from Burne- Jones urging De Morgan to inquire after ' poor Beaconsfield — could you go round and ask how he is this morning — they say he has passed a very bad night and I am anxious ! ' ' I, of course,' relates De Morgan, ' followed Morris's lead enthusiastically, and had he gone that way, should have attended Tory meetings to denounce Liberalism. But I was rather dis- concerted when I found that an honest objection to Bulgarian atrocities had been held to be one and the same thing as sympathy with Karl Marx, * and that Morris took it for granted that I should be ready for enrolment with Hyndman and Co. ! — I wasn't, and I remember telling him so, when he remarked that I wasn't a Radical. I said I was, according to my definition of the word. He said mine was wrong, and that the proper definition of the word " Radical " was a person opposed to the existing order of things. I said, very well then, I wasn't a Radical, and so we had it, up and down. ' I wish I could remember all the battles we had over politics. We always ended in a laugh. He said he knew I was a Tory at heart, and gave me a pinch of snuff — Naturally, he did not take me seriously. I have a dim recollection of a discussion on Socialism which ended in a scheme for the complete Reconstruc- tion of Society exactly as it is now — so as to meet the views of both Revolutionaries and Conservatives. However, this was in the earlier days of Socialism — as he got more engrossed in the subject this sort of chat became less and less possible, and for many years I don't recollect politics being broached when I was at his home. I didn't take pains to go there when I knew there were certain Socialists about, as I never found (being at heart a bigot, don't you see ? ) that their personal charms were sufficient to make up for their holding opinions diametrically opposed to my own on every possible subject. Given this last condition to be unavoidable, in one's associates, I prefer Primrose Dames to Socialists.' The energetic socialistic propaganda of Morris and his vehement denunciation of everything bourgeois, were a fruitful source of jest on the part of his friends ; and the following fragment was sent by De Morgan to Burne- Jones : — • The founder of international socialism, 1 818-1864.] THE MERTON PERIOD 117 ♦ William De Morgan, 36 Great Cheyne Row, Chelsea, S.W. And Stone Cottage Pottery, Merton Abbey. ' What a beautiful poem Orator Prig is — it isn't half appreciated ! " ' i asked of my Socialist, Orator Jaw What's your first observation ? He answered " bourgeois.** ' And what is your second ? He responded " O Law It's identical, similar, likewise bourgeois.'^ • And what is your third ? He replied "To be sure It's as follows, to wit, videlicet, bourgeois 1 " ' And what is your fourth ? He proceeded to pour Over tomes of statistics, then answered " bourgeois ! " ' And what is your fifth ? He considered some more And paused for refreshments, then answered " bourgeois V* ' And what is your sixth ? " As I mentioned before It is," he replied, " (to speak briefly) — bourgeois'^ ' And what is your seventh ? He said " Lest you draw Wrong conclusions from silence, I'll say it's bourgeois.'* ' And what is your eighth ? — " A surprise is in store For you now ! Do not start if I say it's bourgeois ! '* 8888888 8» * Go on, and do a little more — Fni tired.'' Profoundly as De Morgan appreciated the genius and the greatness of Morris, it seems possible that he and his friends at this date did not enter into the true inwardness of ' Top's Socialism ' — the large, tender heart of the man which made the recognition of preventable suffering a sheer agony to him, and drove him — with the bruised soul of a poet and the yearnings of an idealist — to confront, and court, all that was antagonistic to his own temperament — the sordid things of life, the ugly, and the terrible. De Morgan more aptly summed up the spirit of this crusade in later years. ' Top chose to call his religion " Socialism" '; but for himself, when asked if he were a socialist, De Morgan replied : — ' First tell me what is a socialist, and then I can tell you if I am one.' In like manner, in regard to the various riddles of this life and the next which he reviewed in a spirit of investi- gation, his attitude was invariably that of the man who — to use his own metaphor — walks all round the pyramid and eyes it from different angles — laughing, meanwhile, in the Sunshine and ^ The figure 8 is drawn in various attitudes which convey an impression of extreme exhaustion. ii8 WILLIAM DE MORGAN not dwelling with too great insistence on the spaces of Shadow* since he understands that all may be seen, one day, in far other perspective from the apex. It was De Morgan's role to weigh and balance inferences, not to dictate conclusions ; and it is to be remarked, when considering the many problems on which he loved to dwell, how rarely he was ever betrayed into a definite or dogmatic pronouncement on any one. In 1871 Morris had purchased beautiful old Kelmscott Manor, on the borders of Oxfordshire, a house which seemed to breathe a mingled atmosphere of poetry and romance, with its grey gables and mullioned windows, its old-world garden of yew hedges, roses and lavender, and its environment of emerald river-side meadows where one could fancy Lancelot cantering past, watched by the mystic Lady of Shalott. There, annually, De Morgan visited him, snatching a brief respite from the toil and stress of London, through golden summer days of idleness and rest. 'The height of expectant enjoyment was reached,' relates Miss Morris, ' when my father wrote to say I am coming on such a day, and bringing De Morgan with me. . . . Our friend on a holiday was full of quips and drolleries and ingenious riddles, all told in that thin high drawl, with a sort of vibration in it that was nearly but not quite a laugh, and that indicated enjoyment of his company and of his own conceit. It was good to listen to. Some of his jokes took the form of doggerel verse, some were swift sketches, expressive and prettily drawn. In those days he could scarcely write a letter without clothing what he had to say in some form of oddity.' Among the few surviving relics of those dead summers is the following addressed by De Morgan to Morris : — Self-Restraint WTien the Gnat at eventide Rises from the marshy sedge. Then the Poet, pensive-eyed. Lingers by the streamlet's edge. Overhead the fluttering Bat Circles, while the convent-bells Call to vespers ; then the Gnat Bites the Poet, and it swells. Then in sympathetic mood Whispers thus the opening rose :^ ' Nothing does it any good — Wait with patience till it goes.* Readers likely to be bit, Mark the moral of my verse I If the Poet scratches it, He is sure to make it worse. THE MERTON PERIOD 119 ir i//^/X^ Aj^iM Seven years after the purchase of the old Manor House, Morris told De Morgan that he had found a house which he was going to buy in London and they went together to look at it. It was called ' The Retreat,' a good solid Georgian building, situated in the Upper Mall, Hammersmith, with only a narrow roadway bordered by elms between it and the Thames. It had recently been vacated by Dr. George Macdonald, the author, and when De Morgan first saw it, the decoration of the principal rooms consisted of red flock paper covered by long book-cases, painted black, and a ceiling of azure blue, dotted with gilt stars, con- siderably tarnished. Needless to say, Morris soon changed its appearance ; and the name, which he said reminded him of a private asylum, he altered to Kelmscott House, after his other home on the banks of the river. ' The hundred and thirty miles of stream between the two houses were a real, as well as an imaginative, link between them,' relates Mr. Mackail. ' He liked to think that the water which I20 WILLIAM DE MORGAN ran under his windows at Hammersmith had passed the meadows and grey gables of Kehnscott ; and more than once a party oi summer voyagers went from one house to the other by water, embarking at their own door in London and disembarking in their own meadow at Kelmscott.' A Log, hitherto unpubhshed, exists of the first of these memorable journeys undertaken in the Ark, a little houseboat, which Morris describes as ' odd and delightful ' ; and in which, besides the host, his wife and two daughters, the crew consisted of ' Crom ' Price, the Hon. Richard C. Grosvenor and ' Me — organ,' as little Margaret Burne- Jones had named De Morgan. The summary of their daily doings therein recorded is interspersed by individual comments thereon, inserted in the margin. They started from Hammersmith at 3 p.m. on August 10, 1880, and were rowed to Kew by two men supplied by Biffen, the owner of the Ark. ( Biffen's men,' comments William Morris, * one a hoy, the other a had case of chronic alcoholic poisoning, his eyes were gogglesome, prohahly because of grog.') At Kew they were made fast to a barge and ' towed by a mercantile tin kettle ' as far as Twickenham ; later a man and pony from Oxford towed them from the bank. At Molesey Lock, reached by twilight, William Morris ' made an effort to light the party by means of a candle-lamp with a spring in it,' but unluckily the spring slipped, and the candle shot like a rocket into the lock, whereupon the vehemence of Morns's expletives ' gave undis- guised delight to various parties in pleasure boats ranged along the side of the lock,' On the next occasion when Morris gave vent to a D ' big enough to be recorded,' there is a compre- hensive note by the log-keeper : ' This narrative may, and should he, filled up at frequent intervals with such expletives as may seem to fit the occasion without fear of corrupting the text, or in any way leaning towards exaggeration of the facts.' [Further Note by W. M., ' Well ! well ! well ! ') They reached Sunbury at 10.15 p.m. (' Curious and rather pleasant,' notes Wilham Morris, ' muddling one's way across to the Inn in the dark !) — where, on arrival, — ' W.M. exclaimed, " What a stink ! " The waiter rephed, " It is nothing, sir, I assure you." R. C. G. inquisitively, " Is it a sewer ? " Waiter in answer, " Yes, sir, quite sure." (Note by R. C. G. : After this unfortunate jeu d'esprit some of the males of the party seemed to think that they were entitled to indulge in the most abominable puns for the whole of the rest of the journey.) Note by our Communist : " A mountain before a plain ; a plain before a suburb ; a suburb before a dust-heap ; a dust-heap before a sewer ; but a sewer before a gentleman' s house.'' ' Entries follow of days in the open air, when De Morgan dragged the mak members of the party out of bed ' miserable but helpless ' for a bathe in the early dawn ; of the catching of § - -; -^ ? Q b: ^ -, "£ o S S S 1 O ■- K ° ti; ^ O .g ^ . K o ^ .„ « THE MERTON PERIOD 121 fish by R.C.G., 'later incorporated into the system of the fisher' \ of food prepared by Morris — his cuhnary genius is a matter of history — meals which ' filled the company with satisfaction and excellent provisions ' : of ' Price appointed boteler by acclama- tion (his own),' and how he later regaled the company ' with an entertainment gratis with an umbrella, a shawl and a champagne bottle ' ; of teas partaken on the bank in a golden sunset ; of the aurora borealis seen once in great beauty over the shimmering river ; of nights spent by some of the party on board the Ark, by others at a river-side inn, concerning which occurs on one occasion the pathetic but reticent note by R. C. G., 'Domestic Insects.' Of one evening when, to the dismay of the merry Bohemian crew, they suddenly found themselves and their queer craft in the middle of a fashionable regatta at Henley, where they created no small stir. ' The Ark was sculled majestically by De Morgan through a crowd of inferior crafj: and passed under the bridge not without dignity, amidst considerable excitement. . . . Hove to above the bridge, party still rather flustered owing to passing through the regatta.' And there were other graphic entries : — ' Towed on safely to Hamblcdon Lock. Great indignation of Lock Keeper Mrs. Lomax (a widow with a growing family) because the party refused to pay is. bd. for the Ark and 3^^. for the Albert ; tearing up of receipt for 3 dash in those days, and he couldn't stand the bother of packing. He just sat on a chair and put a hammer through dishes worth £2 los. and £3, at the same time saying, " Go on, boys, help your- selves ! " — which you may be quite sure we did. ' When he pulled the kiln down to go to Merton, bothered if he didn't give all his bricks (especially his fire-bricks) to the Borough of Chelsea and actually paid the cartage ! when he must have known he would want them badly at Merton. As it was 128 WILLIAM DE MORGAN he had fine material for breaking up to mix with his fire clay in making his tiles and vases. ' Wlien I arrived at Merton, I found he had built his kiln in and on the gound, right in the centre of the building — the chimney shaft quite a splendid idea, but unfortunately it was built over the centre of the kiln, and the weight of the shaft was enormous, two fire-bricks thick. I saw that it was nice and comfortable to start with, but that I shouldn't like to be there when the kiln was beginning to wear out, for if it fell it would take the whole of the building with it.' De Morgan's own account of his proceedings in this new venture were as follows : ' In 1881-2 I took a piece of land at Merton Abbey and erected buildings and kilns there. . . . I first constructed a magnificent basement, and then decided it was too handsome to put to the base purposes meant for a mere basement, so I built another storey and that was, in a sense, the same story, for unfortunately it proved too magnificent for what I intended ; so I had to build another one, and so on till the building became a sky-scraper, and then it wasn't suitable for anything I wanted, and I had to move, and that was the end of that story ! ' One serious objection to Merton, however, of which he soon became aware, was its inaccessibility from London, and the daily journey there grew yet more irksome as his health gave cause for anxiety. He was already suffering from a weakness of the spine which troubled him for the remainder of his days, and was then believed to be the result of a tendency towards phthisis ; moreover, in 1884, the need for exercising special precaution against this constitutional delicacy was brought home to him cruelly by the death of his sister Annie, Mrs. Thompson. The letter which Morris wrote to him from London on this occasion still survives : — ♦ Kelmscott House, 'January 19, 1884. ' My dear Bill, — ' Of course from what you said to me I have been expecting your sad news any day. What is there to say about it save that it is a sad tale ? However, Ufe is good as long as we can really live, and even sorrow if so taken has something good in it as a part of life, as I myself have found at times — yet have not the less bemoaned myself all the same. ' So in spite of yourself I wish you a long life, my dear fellow, to play your due part in. ' Give my love and sympathy to your mother and Mary — I shall hope to see you soon again. • Yours affectionately, ' William Morris.' At this date it did not look as though the ' long life ' which his friend wished him would ever be De Morgan's portion. Yet THE MERTON PERIOD 129 his enthusiasm counteracted physical weakness, and he struggled on with apparently unabated energy. Meanwhile he retained the show-room in Chelsea till 1886, when he took premises at 45 Great Marlborough Street, formerly the house of Mrs. Siddons, for the exhibition of his pottery in what had once been a large ball-room on the ground floor. 'About a year later,' he relates, 'owing to circumstances connected with health, I was obliged to limit my supervision of my factory at Merton. The long journey every day was more than I could manage and I was unable to make my domestic arrangements fit in with the plan I always had of residing there. Practically I had to choose between giving up the business and bringing the factory nearer home.' None the less, it is said that one consideration alone clinched his wavering decision to leave Merton. He was at this date absorbed in the designing and decoration of a pot of abnormal size which subsequently became the property of Lord Ashbuniham. This chef d'asuvre would not go into the great kiln at Merton ; and where his art was concerned, no consideration, monetary or otherwise, was ever a.llowed to stay action. The erection of a new and larger kiln was immxediately decided upon ; Merton Abbey had become too small for him ; and he abruptly brought to a close what may be termed the second epoch in his manufacture of pottery. A rumour gained credence that he was giving up his work, and he wrote as follows to the wife of his old friend Henry Holiday : — William De Morgan to Mrs. Holiday. ' December i6, '87. ' If F. told you I was going to give up making lustres, it must be that he has been giving ear to a rumour to that effect which I beUeve is fre- quently put about by some disinterested admirers of mine. ' I call them disinterested because they don't take any interest in the circulation of my goods, and I suppose they are admirers or they wouldn't copy my goods so closely, faults and all ! ' The funny part of it is that we can none of us make a really good piece of lustre ware to save our lives. ' Cantagalli of Florence makes good lustre, and Clement Massier, a Frenchy Mossoo, has done some rather interesting ones lately. ' However, to resume, I am not giving up lustre making. On th.^ contrary, I am hoping to turn out some really creditable work very soon at the pottery at Sands End, when I have removed from Merton Abbey, to be within reach of home. ... I have been awfully busy and gone nowhere.' It was in 1888 that De Morgan started work in De Morgan Road, Sands End, Fulham, entering into partnership with Halsey Ricardo. ' I am glad you are not a sleeping-partner,' he wrote encouragingly to the latter ; ' My idea of a sleeping- partner is a partner who just wakes up to share the profits and 130 WILLIAM DE MORGAN then goes to sleep again ! ' But before the removal to Fulhara actually came to pass another and yet greater change had taken place in De Morgan's life, which is thus referred to by Mr. Bale : — ' Mr. De Morgan was, as I have said, a very generous master. If any man was in trouble, his hand went to his pocket at once. One day a lad in his employ came to him with the news that he was going to get married. Mr. De Morgan at once said, " Then you'll want more money if you're going to keep a wife, so I'll raise your wages." After that, all the lads were for getting manied and he had to treat them all the same. At last he could stand it no longer, and when a fresh one came to him with the same news, he said, " Now look here, boys, I can have no more of this. The next man in this factory who gets married will get the sack." But the laugh turned against him, for the next man to get married v/as Mr. De Morgan himself.' William De Morgan to Edward Burne- Jones. ' Chelsea, ' June 21, 1885. * Dear Ned, — ' I meant to have come in yesterday evg. ; but I was engaged to be married and couldn't ! ' I wanted to convey the news to you of two engagements that have THE MERTON PERIOD 131 just come to pass. One is mj'- own — I am engaged to a lady. The other is Evelyn Pickering's — She is engaged to a cove, or bloke. ' Having supplied you with the data (see frontispiece) she and I are both strongly disposed to come round some time and see if you can guess whom we are respectively engaged to. Don't give it up f ' We send you ail our united kind love, in which my mother and sister commingle. ' Yours afEectly, • D. M.' Edward Biirne- Jones to William De Morgan. * My dear D. M., — ' I am so glad, but you might have knocked me down with a crow- bar, I was so surprised — regular took aback I were. ' Now that's pretty comfortable, I call it — we are just W'here we were and no complications between parties. ' We are all glad about it. ' Find a day next week for a feast and come both of you and we'll have larks. ' Yes, It is admirable — in former merrier years I should have called it capital, but the word tenifies me now and whenever I see it I slink away. ' My dear fellow, I feel as if / had suggested it ! ' Always your affte, 'Ned.* EVELYN DE MORGAN CHAPTER VI THE STORY OF THE PICKERINGS FOR a brief space we must turn from the life-story of William De Morgan to consider that of his wife, since for thirty years she was destined to be the most prominent factor in the moulding of his later career. But in order to measure the quahty of her influence it is necessary first to understand something of her own temperament and its development, derived alike from her immediate ancestry and environment. Mary Evelyn Pickering was the eldest daughter of Percival Andree Pickering, Q.C., Recorder of Pontefract, Attorney- General for the County Palatine and sometime Treasurer of the Inner Temple. He married in 1853 Anna Maria Spencer-Stan- hope, who was herself the eldest daughter of John and Lady Ehzabeth Spencer-Stanhope, of Cannon Hall, Yorkshire. Of the intellectual qualifications of the Pickerings as a race it is possible to speak with an unusual degree of certainty from a remote period. ' I apprehend,' said Sir kaac Heard, Garter King of Arms, writing to Evelyn's grandfather. ' that there is scarcely any family in England so well descended as yours, and who can so weU authenticate it, not merely by the pedigree, but by the records of the kingdom, combining ancient nobihty and royalty.' Nor, he might have added, were there many families the record of which — other than this cursory glance which is all that we can here devote to it — might prove so enter- taining to posterity and full of lively incident. We have seen how the De Morgans belonging to the earlier generations regarded life very seriously. They were willing to sacrifice aU worldly advantage to their convictions— alike to orthodoxy or heterodoxy ; and we have seen, too, how William, with his versatile genius and his happy Bohemianism, was, in much, the product of a collateral inheritance. The same may be said of his wife and her forbears. But while the Pickerings, as a race, regarded life with an equal gravity, this did not, in their case, engender any placid indifference to worldly advantage. Brilliant, comely and self-assertive through the generations, their constant prominence in the angry world of politics was, 135 136 EVELYN DE MORGAN it must be admitted, usually on the side of aggression — occasion- ally mis-named liberty ; but neither did they despise the plums of existence. Only one noted member of the family seems to have left behind him an entirely peaceful memory ; Sir James Pickering, * one of the earliest recorded Speakers of the House of Commons, circa 1378, who placidly represented the Counties of Westmor- land and Yorkshire as Knight of the Shire from 1362 to 1497. For the rest, where there was a turmoil in the State, the Pickerings figured in it, and sank or swam with the swaying of the tide. Their crest, a bear's paw with the claws somewhat in evidence, and the suggestive motto Pax tua, requies mea remained singularly well chosen. Thus John Pickering, B.D., Prior of the Dominican House of Cambridge, helped to organize and was a leader of the Pilgrimage of Grace, in consequence of which Henry VUI wrote that ' Dr. Pickering sJiould be sent up to him,' and Dr. Pickering was duly executed at Tyburn in 1537. Another learned Dr. Pickering, a kinsman, at the same date and for the same cause, long languished in the Tower ; while a few years later Sir William Pickering, Ambassador 'to France in 1551, celebrated as a courtier and diplomatist, narrowly escaped a similar fate by being con- cerned in Wyatt's conspiracy. This Sir William, ' a Patron of the Arts,' however, whose fine tomb may be seen to-day in St. Helen's, Bishopsgate, had a remarkable career, to which space will not now permit us to do justice. His father was Knight-Marshal to Henry VHI, and he early figured at Court, not always, according to history, in enviable fashion. For instance, in 1543, on the significant date of April I, we are told that he and Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, were brought before the Council charged with the heinous offence of ' eating fiesh in Lent ' and of ' walking about the streets of London at night breaking the windows of the houses with stones shot from cross-bows. ' These misdeeds, which sound like the result of an inconvenient ebullition of youthful spirits, William at first denied, then confessed, and was forthwith imprisoned in the Tower. But later he acquitted himself with such credit as to erase the memory of that luckless ' All Fools ' day, and after the accession of Queen Ehzabeth, having amply proved his prowess both in the field and in the more subtle strife of the diplomatic world, he apparently designed to live quietly at his home, Pickering House, in the parish of St. Andrew Undershaft, London. Fate, however, was against his purpose, for we learn that, ' being a brave, wise and comely English gentleman,' he was seriously thought of as a suitor for Elizabeth's hand. The > I am here following the pedigrees compiled by the late W. Vade Walpole and by Edward Rowland Pickering, which are obviously correct. < 5 J 2 5 H CQ _ J > " * ' ' « . THE STORY OF THE PICKERINGS 137 capricious Queen indeed showed him such marked preference that the ambitious courtiers with whom she was surrounded became alarmed. In 1559 we are told that ' the Earl of Arundel . . , was said to have sold his lands, and was ready to flee out of the kingdom because he could not abide in England if the Queen should marry Mr, Pickering, for they were enemies.* Another chronicler with a note of venom relates that so imperious was the speech of Sir William, so overbearing his demeanour, and so lavish his expenditure on the rich dress with which he adorned his handsome person, that he thereby lent a handle to those who would fain have wrought his undoing. Nevertheless, although he excited much jealousy, he successfully avoided the pitfalls which beset his path owing to the too open admiration of the Queen, and eventually succeeded — no mean feat under the circumstances — in expiring peacefully with his comely head still intact on his shoulders and his neck unclasped by the hang- man's rope. To Cecil he left his ' papers, antiquities, globes, compasses,' and his favourite horse. By the sixteenth century, the Pickerings, who had previously been landowners in Westmorland and Yorkshire, were inhabiting the fine old Tudor mansion of Tichmarsh in Northamptonshire, now completely disappeared. There, in 1605, Sir Gilbert Picker- ing gained for himself great kudos for his activity in apprehending the conspirators of the Gunpowder Plot, although amongst them was his own brother-in-law, Robert Keyes, who, in consequence, suffered for such ' apish behaviour ' by being executed in com- pany with Guy Fawkes at Westminster. Sir Gilbert died in 1613 ; and in Cromwellian times his grandson. Sir Gilbert, Baronet of Nova Scotia, and a brother John, of Gray's Inn, were prominent Parliamentarians. The former, to whom his cousin John Dryden, the poet,^ was secretary, sat in the Long Parlia- ment, being also one of the Protector's Council, and of his House of Lords. He was moreover one of the Judges of Charles I, but he attended the trial only at the outset, and was not of those * Cal. State Papers for For. Ser., 1559. " The connexion between the two Puritan famihes of Dryden and Pickering was a double one. Not only did a Dryden take ' o wife a Picker- ing, who became the mother of the poet, but a Pickering took to wife a Dryden. ' The home of John Dryden,' we are told, ' was at Tichmarsh, where his father, a younger son of the first baronet of Canons Ashby, had settled. Here he had married into the leading family of the place, the Pickerings, who resided at the great house. His wife was Mary, first cousin of Sir Gilbert, the head of the family, and daughter of Henry Pickering, rector of Aldwincle All Saints, and it was at her father's rectory that, in 1631, John, the eldest of her fourteen children, was born. An alliance between the Drydens and the Pickerings was the more natural in that both famiUes were strongly Puritan, and took the side of the Parliament in the Civil War.' — Highways and Byways in Northampton- shire, by Herbert A. Evans, p. 71. 138 EVELYl^ DE MORGAN who signed the death warrant. Thus at the Restoration, although he was declared incapable of holding pubhc office, he escaped more drastic punishment tlirough the intervention of his brother- in-law, Edward Montague, Earl of Sandwich ; indeed Pepys tells us how he received from Lady Pickering ' wrapped up in a paper, £5 in silver ' to induce him to use his influence with her brother, ' my Lord, on behalf of her misguided husband.' During the Civil War, John, the brother of this Sir Gilbert, had raised the ' Pickering regiment ' for the Parliament among his Northamptonshire neighbours, and distinguished himself at Naseby and elsewhere. He is described as ' a little man, but of great courage ' ; nevertheless, he seems to have been wanting in tact and a fanatic of more pronounced type than his brother ; for in 1645 he caused a mutiny in the regiment which he com- manded by insisting on delivering to his troopers a rousing sermon at a moment when they were not in a suitable frame of mind to appreciate such an attention ! Another brother, Edward, was a lawyer, and is described by Roger North as a ' subtle fellow, a money-hunter, a great trifler, and avaricious, but withal a great pretender to puritanism, frequenting the Rolls Chapel, and most busily writing the sermon in his hat that he might not be seen.' In brief, the Pickerings at that date, like others of their generation, seemed to have battened on a curious mixture of sermons and sanctity, of shrewdness and time-serving ; and to have sought Heaven dihgently with one eye still firmly fixed on their worldly advantage. Nevertheless, save for the daughter of Sir Gilbert Pickering, the beautiful and talented Mistress Betty, afterwards wife to John Creed of Oundle, who was acclaimed as an amateur artist of considerable local fame, we find no trace through the passing of the centuries that the family at Tichmarsh distinguished themselves in the gentler arts of literature or painting ; where- fore it is curious to reflect that from the Puritan Pickerings and the Huguenot De Morgans should have sprung two descendants both so unlike their ancestors in this respect as these whose life- story we are here reviewing. Glancing on, therefore, swiftly do\vn the generations, we come to Edward Lake Pickering, of the Exchequer, the great- grandfather of Evelyn De Morgan, who died in 1788. His wife Mary Umfreville, lived till 1836, when she expired in her 93rd year, a wonderful old lady who boasted, approved by Burke, that she was the last of the direct branch of the Umfrevilles, exhibiting a pedigree which begins with the Saxon Kings of England, and in which William the Conqueror figmcs as a less important unit over a century and a half later. This couple had two sons, who survived them, of whom the second was Edward THE STORY OF THE PICKERINGS 139 Rowland Pickering, of Lincoln's Inn. He married Mary Vere, Dne of the most beautiful women of her day ; and to them were born eight sons and three daughters. The portraits of Edward Rowland which are extant exhibit tiim as a man of middle age, shrewd and kindly of countenance, md stately of pose ; though of necessity they fail to convey the quaint courtliness and old-world dignity with which he impressed all who came in contact with his attractive personality. ' I delight in him,' [wrote Lady Elizabeth Spencer- Stanhope enthusiasti- cally, after meeting him for the first time at the date of her daughter's engagement to his son]. . . . ' He is exactly like the description of an old novel of Miss Burney's ... an unmistakable high-born and high-bred gentleman, in a brown scratch-wig, all on end on his head, with an indescrib- able mixture of kind-heartedness, slirewdness and humour in his counten- ance, standing on his own foundation, and feeling that his son and his family are at least on a par with any nobleman in the land. . . . He is of the same class of original as Lord Stanhope and Lord Suffolk — a sort of quaint, clever creature. . . . His pert little daughter-elect cannot think of him mthout laugliing, and he seemed inclined to laugh at himself I ' And later she writes yet more enthusiastically : — ' I cannot tell you how delightful Mr. Pickering p^re is, quite like what one reads about in books, but never meets in real life . . . how you would delight in him, with his great good-breeding and extreme quaintness. He is very clever and unusual in his integrity ; I long for you to meet him, with his charming old-world manners and that brown scratch-wig standing straight upright from his head ! ' As to his wife, ' my dearest partner ' as he generally termed her. Lady Elizabeth, on first meeting her, pronounced her to be ' one of the most gentle, lovely, loving, and I should think love- able of human beings ' — a description which aptly summed up the characteristics, and possibly the limitations, of the beautiful woman who won admiration from all whom she encountered. Throughout the passing years. Time never perceptibly printed a wrinkle on the smoothness of her exquisite skin, nor ruffled her placid outlook on a world where, for her, all combined to make the rough ways pleasant. Gentle, yielding, and charming from youth to age, generous without stint, and extravagant to a fault, she was likewise fastidious in many ways which, to a later generation would appear difficult of credence, but which never- theless seemed a necessary complement to her own individuality. For one, she had a horror of what, to her, was literally ' filthy lucre ' and refused ever to soil her hands by touching money which had been used before. Coins fresh from the bank were kept by her in little round boxes of horn or ivory, suited to their size, or dainty bags of wash-leather tied by coloured ribbon, and to these still cling the faint aroma of the attar of roses which once scented the pieces of shining gold or silver which they 140 EVELYN DE MORGAN guarded so carefully from any chance of vulgar contamination. Edward Rowland worshipped his beautiful wife ; they remained lovers to the end of their days ; and as an old man, on the rare occasions when he was separated from her, he wrote to her letters which still breathe all the passionate devotion and tender reverence of romantic youth. Of the man}^ sons and daughters born to this couple, seven survived infancy ; and of these Percival Andree, the father of Evelyn De Morgan, was the second. An anecdote of his childhood has survived which at least bespeaks imagination and kindliness of heart. Percy, as he was called, had been receiving religious instruction from his mother, who had imparted to him the sad fate of Adam and Eve, summed up in that melancholy sentence ' Dust thou art and unto dust shalt thou return.' The words sank into the child's mind and made an impression which his elders little suspected. Afterw^ards, seated at the window gazing out on to the chill March day, he was heard to be weeping bitterly. Kind arms enclosed him, and sympathetic inquiries were made respect- ing the cause of his woe. But the child wept on unrestrainedly ; till at length, pointing to the street where the chill winds were blowing the dust in clouds past the house, he exclaimed tragically, ' Oh ! poor, poor Adam and Eve ! — how they are blowing about ! ' The Divine vengeance which had apparently condemned our first parents to drift helplessly— and dirtily — through the ages appalled his tender heart and left him so crushed with despair that for long he refused to be comforted. In those days the custom still prevailed of concentrating all care and expenditure upon the education of the eldest son, while furnishing the younger members of the family only with the good solid instruction suitable to whatever profession they were destined to pursue. Edward Rowland did not follow this system. Each of the young Pickerings went to Eton, where several were distinguished both as scholars and cricketers, and then to the University. At Eton, Percy was known by the name of ' Mop-stick ' on account of his curly hair, and his good looks were proverbial. He became a great friend of young William Ewart Gladstone, who for many years subsequently kept up a conespondence with him, in which he expressed himself enthusiastically Tory in principle ; and only his change of politics, later in life, made a severance between the friends. At Cambridge, after going to Trinity College, Percy, like his elder brother, became a Fellow of St. John's By and by, at the Bar, he was noted for his eloquence, his penetration and his sense of humour. He was past forty when the event occurred which was destined to alter all the remainder of his days. The story has already THE STORY OF THE PICKERINGS 141 been told in The Letter-hag of Lady Elizabeth Spencer-Stanhope ; but so pretty a romance may be briefly recapitulated. While on the Northern Circuit Mr. Pickering went to stay with his friend Mr. Milnes Gaskell at Thornes House, near Wake- field, who, one day, suggested that they should go over to Cannon Hall, a few miles off, to call upon Lady Elizabeth Spencer-Stan- hope and her charming daughters. Arrived at their destination, however, they found the family had gone to attend a school-treat which was taking place that afternoon, so the two men walked down through the sunny park in search of the scene of festivity. Now it happened that, a short time before, the village school- children had presented Anna Maria Stanhope, Lady Elizabeth's eldest daughter, with a little bonnet of white plaited straw which they had made for her, and thinking to please them she had decided to wear it on this occasion. The prim little headgear, shadowing her dark hair and brilliant eyes, proved singularly becoming, but her sisters had laughed at her for wearing it. ' You look a perfect Lucilla ! ' they declared, referring to Mrs. Hannah More's novel ; ' All that is wanted is Ccelebs in search of a wife ! ' And as though their words were prophetic, Ccelebs appeared in the person of the unknown visitor, and as instantly fell in love with the girl whom he saw thus for the first time enacting the role of Lucilla — suitably employed playing with the village children in the park, her pretty face framed in the simple bonnet of white plaited straw. But the course of the romance did not at first run smoothly ; and three or four years passed before, at his third proposal, his devotion found its reward. After their marriage the young couple lived first in Green Street, in a little house with a bay window, now pulled down, which during a former generation had sheltered another romance, for there had resided the beauti- ful Miss Farren who became Lady Derby. Later they removed to No. 6 Upper Grosvenor Street ; and there their eldest daughter, Mary Evelyn, was bom, while there also during the years which followed, two sons and then another daughter — the present writer — came into existence. ' There was no hope for Evelyn from the first ! ' her mother used to say laughingly, in view of an episode which occurred at the child's christening. A great-uncle, Mr. Charles Stanhope, officiated on that occasion, a venerable and charming person, who nevertheless was noted for many a malapropism which severely taxed the gravity of his congregation. At the period in the service when the sponsors are called upon to renounce all evil on behalf of the unconscious infant, Mr. Stanhope turned to them, and demanded in a stentorian voice — ' Do you, in the name of this child, promise to remember the devil and all his 142 EVELYN DE MORGAN works ? ' The perplexed god-parents, faced with such an unex- pected dilemma, and feeling it useless to argue the point, glanced helplessly at each other and responded fervently — ' We do ! ' In view, however, of the question of heredity, it may be well to glance at the heritage which the young mother brought to her children from her own forbears, and which, in the case of her eldest daughter, seems to have been a determining factor both in regard to temperament and career. Mrs. Pickering, on her father's side, came of two families, the Spencers and the Stanhopes, who had been settled in York- shire since the Middle Ages — a race of fine old country Squires of a type now rapidly becoming extinct, men who, generation after generation, trod reputably, each in the footsteps of his pre- decessor, and proved themselves, as occasion dictated, shrewd magistrates, bold sportsmen, brave soldiers, stout topers, pro- found scholars or fine gentlemen. But they were apparently men of simple lives and of single aims, for the two houses which they inhabited show little trace of the inveterate dilettante or collector, nor of any keen lover of art having resided in them. It is therefore when we turn to the family of Lady Elizabeth, the wife of John Stanhope, that it becomes evident whence came the artistic element which was to develop in both her child and grandchild. The story of this lady's family has been told, at length, else- where ; ^ for our present purpose it must suffice to say that she was a direct descendant of Thomas, Earl of Leicester, the great dilettante of the mid-eighteenth century, and coadjutor of another famous dilettante and architect. Lord Burlington. Thomas Coke, who on a barren part of the Norfolk coast erected a palace of Italian art and filled it with choice treasures of anti- quity, was the possessor of a master-mind, and left the impress of genius on all with which he dealt. His nephew and successor, the father of Lady Elizabeth, better known as ' Coke of Norfolk,' although his best energies were concentrated on agriculture and questions of practical utility, exhibited gifts which equalled those of his predecessor. Throughout his life he was the liberal patron of art and literature, and showed a fine discriminating taste in regard to both, while the masterly manner with which he enhanced the work that Thomas Coke had commenced, and transformed the bleak, barren land surrounding his home, is matter of history But a passionate love of beauty seemed inherent in his race, the joy in exquisite colour, in grace of outline, in perfection of detail — the striving after idealism even in the most commonplace * Coke of Norfolk and his friends, by A. M. W. Stirling. THE STORY OF THE PICKERINGS 143 accessories of daily life — combined with a hunger for i:reation and a tireless endeavour. Brought up in such an atmosphere. Coke's daughters developed a resultant love of art which early bore fruition. His eldest daughter, afterwards Lady Andover, was only fifteen when she painted a most remarkable picture with about five life-sized figures, of Belisarius begging — an ambitious and success- ful work even for an artist of more mature age ; while the second daughter, afterwards Lady Anson, also showed great artistic talent. Some of her pictures, painted when she was quite young, both original portraits and copies from the old Masters, are extraordinarily clever ; while the exquisite manner in which, later in life, she copied and renovated some of the delicate illuminations in the old missals at Holkham, filled Roscoe with admiration. Both she and her sister were pupils of Gainsborough, who stayed at Holkham to teach them ; and although it is impossible to tell if the master's brush improved the pupil's work, it is certainly difficult in some instances to distinguish between the paintings of the former and of the latter. Although Lady EUzabeth did not herself develop a faculty for Art to the same extent as did her two elder sisters, the talent for which her family had become conspicuous showed itself again in the person of her second son. Roddam Spencer-Stan- hope, whom we have already had occasion to mention, became an artist of no mean repute who, a friend of the members of the pre-Raphaelite brotherhood, is classed by posterity as one of that famous band. ' He is the finest colourist in Europe,' Burne- Jones said of him ; and his works show an almost Southern love of deep, glowing colour, and a dainty imagery which drifted into fairy-tales so that he was aptly described as ' a painter of dreams.' It is interesting, therefore, to note that the passion for Art, combined with the creative faculty, descended in three successive generations of Mrs. Pickering's family, yet in each instance it was a case of collateral, not direct, descent. Mrs. Pickering herself did not inherit the talent which her brother developed, although as a pupil of Harding her drawings and sketches are remarkable for facility and breadth of char- acter. But to her, as to so many of her generation. Art was primarily a question of routine, to be developed by careful instruction and conscientious training, while the imagination exhibited by the so-called pre-Raphaehte School always remained a subject for amusement rather than appreciation. Nevertheless, she was a woman of exceptional intellect, whose cleverness lay, not in superficial accomplishments, but in deep thought and extensive study, and early did she devote herself to 144 EVELYN DE MORGAN the development of her children's minds. To the influence of her mentality must principally be attributed the love of intel- lectual pursuits and the thirst for knowledge which may be said to have characterized each member of her little family. She recognized that, during her own childhood, she had suffered much from the narrowing influence of the governesses of her day, with their limited education and their restricted outlook upon life, and she therefore determined that while her children should have every benefit of an education aided by professional teachers, they should not be abandoned to its disadvantages. No resident governess, therefore, was ever admitted into the house : masters came and went, the most efficient that money could procure, and from the first Evelyn profited by the same instruction as her brother ; she learnt Greek and Latin, besides French, German and Italian ; she studied classical literature, and became deeply versed in mythology : but it was the mother who inspired the actual love of knowledge as distinct from the drudgery of lessons.^ In all her children, a recollection of their early years was connected with what proved to them the happiest period of each day — the hour when they were summoned to a flower-laden room, and their mother read to them from some volume of absorbing interest. To her, reading aloud was a gift ; she delighted in it ; and her clear, musical voice ever after seemed indissolubly linked with the books which she first made them love. The range of literature thus covered was wide and comprehensive ; but where the books which were available on any particular subject did not convey the exact impression she wished to pro- duce, she herself supplied the deficiency. Thus history, she found, was apt to be written in a fashion which failed to grip the imagination of a child, so she wrote a history of England for her children of arresting interest, dwelling on the vital facts to be remembered, and making the whole so graphic that it became to her small listeners a living actuality, teeming with romance. Scientific books, too, she found were inevitably couched in language iU-adapted to the intelligence of her audience, so she wrote for them volumes which read like a fairy- tale : she described the wonderful prehistoric world, where Man was not, but where strange beasts abounded, and the dim ante- diluvian forests which aeons of time had fashioned into coal, pieces of which were then burning in the grate of the cosy httle room ; she dwelt on the discoveries of astronomy, the grand riddle of the stars which looked like glittering dust strewn over the dome of heaven ; the marvels of chemistry, of geology, of the practical apphcation of many recent discoveries. She wrote fluently, without effort, and with few erasures ; indeed the charm and the facihty of her style hint what success in the THE STORY OF THE PICKERINGS 143 literary world would have been hers had she not confined hei talents solely to this labour of love.* How her children appreciated her efforts may be illustrated by a trivial incident. It happened that one day a dressmaker called at the hour devoted to this daily reading, and a message consequently was sent up to the nursery that the children were not to go down to their mother's room as usual. The blow was unexpected, and the eldest boy, Spencer, afterwards a scientist of international repute, but then a minute, self-important personage, considered that this innovation was not to be borne. He therefore made his way downstairs as fast as his sturdy little legs would carry him, and boiling with rage, marched to the dining-room where the innocent offender was seated waiting till Mrs. Pickering should summon her for a fitting. As the dressmaker herself afterwards described, the door suddenly opened and a small boy strode up to her with a face crimson with rage. ' You wicked, wicked woman ! ' he exclaimed vehe- mently ; then, stamping his little foot, he shook his fist in her face, and reiterating — ' / say you're a wicked, wicked woman 1 ' he rushed away sobbing as though his heart would break. It was not till later that she discovered the nature of her offence and of the animosity with v/hich she was ever afterwards regarded by the occupants of the nursery — in short, that she had deprived them of an hour's lesson in English history ! Another result of Mrs. Pickering's instructions was that, like the mother of William De Morgan, she occasionally found herself brought to book by questions difficult of elucidation, but which, to her small audience, presented all the gravity of scientific problems. ' Of course I know that God made Heaven and Earth,' Evelyn remarked, struggling with the first intricacies of theology, ' hut where did He sit when He made them ? ' — While Rowland, her second son, one night after he had been lovingly deposited in his little wooden crib, sent for his mother in a con- dition of dire anxiety, ' Mamma,' he demanded, * when the sim goes to hed—who tucks him up ? ' A vision of the nocturnal arrangements of the lonely planet disturbed the thoughts of the kindly little fellow, and as his father had been distressed at the uncomfortable fate of Adam and Eve, he too refused to be pacified by what seemed to him vague explanations of a harrow- ing problem. Another matter which troubled him was that he gleaned from Evelyn's somewhat lurid side-lights upon religion that Christ's second coming was destined to take place in a terrific thunder- ^ After her death, a volume was pubUshed, Memoirs of Anna Maria Wilhelmina Pickering, wliich, as originally written by her, was a far more charming collection of anecdotes, jotted down haphazard for her children, and was not intended for, nor arranged for, publication. K 146 EVELYN DE MORGAN storm. Consequently never did an electrical disturbance oi the elements occur that he was not filled with apprehension as to its possible result ; and one day, hearing an exceptionally loud crash in the heavens, he ran to his mother in undisguised dismay : ' My goodness 1 ' he exclaimed, casting a worried glance at the noisy sky, ' Don't you think that's enough to bring Him ? ' The Pickering nursery indeed presents, in much, an enter- taining contrast to the De Morgan nursery of twenty years earlier. The over-conscientious training resorted to in the former, the microscopic attention devoted to trifles, the constant chastisements for childish peccadilloes are all absent. The small Pickerings were carefully brought up ; they were highly edu- cated ; the number of their pastors and masters was almost abnormal ; but perhaps some of the aggressiveness of their ancestors had entered into their veins, for no instructors, however well qualified or highly remunerated, succeeded in suppressing, or even moulding, their individuality. As between the births of the older and the younger children was a space of some years, Evelyn and her brother Spencer, who was only three years his sister's junior, were perforce com- panions, and remained like a generation apart from their two successors in the nursery. They were both gifted with exceptional good looks, although Evelyn, from childhood, may be said to have been handsome rather than pretty. Her features were finely formed, the nose small and straight, the mouth less regular ; the eyelids covering her blue-grey eyes were full and rounded, indicative of imagination ; and her hair, in long brown tresses, shading to gold, fell in waves to her waist. Her expression was full of life and intelligence, though always marked by a noticeable discontent ; her hands were characteristic — small but lithe and firm, with the tapering fingers of the idealist ; while her whole personahty, from childhood to age, conveyed an impression of virility, of restlessness, and of a mind eager to absorb and to achieve, combined with a temperament highly strung and perhaps abnormally sensitive to suffering and to joy. Spencer, in those nursery days, was of a more pronounced beauty than his sister, a child who inevitably arrested attention with his exquisitely formed, delicate little features, his fair skin tinted hke a peach, and his hair of bright gold which fell in a luxuriant mass of curls nearly the same length as did that of his sister. Even when custom necessitated his locks being shorn, the curls, in defiance of his most laborious attempts at brushing and plastering them down, still clustered thickly over his shapely head, so that later at Eton, on account of his good looks and classical features, he was known as ' the young Antinous.' In the days of babyhood, however, George Frederick Watts enthusiastically pronounced him and his sister THE STORY OF THE PICKERINGS 147 Evelyn to be the most beautiful children he had ever seen, and having expressed a wish to paint Spencer, he completed a portrait begun by Cosens, which shows a httle face of rare loveliness and refinement. Meanwhile Spencer, although a nursery autocrat and possessed of an imperious temper, was completely in subjection to his sister who, by virtue of her seniority, generally made him the tool for her many escapades. ' How I envy you,' Mrs. Pickering used to relate that an affected lady once said languidly to her — ' you are so fortunate to have a girl at the head of your nurser}'- ! ' — ' I thought to myself,' Mrs. Pickering used to add with amuse- ment — ' that depends on the girl ! ' for Evelyn was never a cipher or a saint. ' Why are you so glad not to have another sister ? ' Spencer was asked, it having been observed that he heaved a sigh of relief on being informed of the birth of his younger brother. ' Girls are such pinchers ! ' was the reply, at once fervent and concise. None the less, at times he seems to have adopted the tactics of his sister. One day the French governess, a certain Madame Mori, came to Mrs. Pickering to ask for a private interview, professing herself to be in despair at the unmanageability of her charges. Mrs. Pickering, in order to be secure from interruption and possible eavesdropping, took the excited Frenchwoman into an inner room, off her bedroom, half dressing-room, half boudoir, which had only one exit. There, having closed the door care- fully, she listened to a string of complaints uttered in voluble French, and proceeded to discuss the situation, dwelling at great length on the idiosyncrasies of the respective culprits and the wisest means to be adopted in order to bring both to a better frame of mind. By the window of the room, however, where this consultation took place, was a dressing-table, adorned in the then fashion with a pink cahco cover shrouded in lace like a lady in a voluminous skirt ; and suddenly from the recesses of this came a howl of agony. ' Spencer ! ' was heard in piercing accents — ' Oh ! you pinch so ! ' A hurried investigation revealed the fact that throughout the entire interview the two delinquents had been seated in this rosy tent Ustening with the greatest ze&t to the tale of their misdeeds, and to the despairing suggestions of a possible remedy ! Out of the many now forgotten pranks of those early days one is stiU remembered, possibly on account of its unusual daring or its disastrous sequel. It must first be explained that, with the exception of the birthdays of Mr. Pickering and his eldest son, aU such family anniversaries fell between August 26 and 30 — indeed August 28 was the birthday both of Mrs. Pickering and her second son Rowland. Hence arose an opening for injustice. Although the season of such festivities might clash or overlap. 148 EVELYN DE MORGAN the children considered that the mere accident of date ought not to interfere with what was their right ; four separate hohdays were undoubtedly their due, and four separate birthday cakes ; so that an attempt made by the elders to compress both feast and festivity — to make one holiday and one cake do for two events — was bitterly resented. Evel3'n indeed felt that a great principle was at stake, and on the approach of a day when she maintained that one of the birthdays ought to be kept but the powers in authority decreed that lessons should be done, she boldly determined that such an injustice should not be perpetrated. Late on the evening of the day before, therefore, every lesson-book was carefully collected by her and entrusted to the care of Spencer, a small and alarmed victim. The house in Grosvenor Street overlooked a mews at the back, and Spencer, acting under his sister's orders, after dusk chmbed on to the balcony railing in the rear of the house, and succeeded in thrusting the pile of lesson-books on to the roof of the neighbouring stables. In the morning when the governess arrived, great was her astonishment upon being informed that every single lesson-book had mysteriously disappeared. The reason of the disappear- ance, however, was so transparent that her wrath would not be appeased, and she insisted that the books should be found. Accordingly, hour after hour throughout the day was spent in a fruitless search, the two conspirators enjoying themselves greatly, and protesting, with entire truth, that not a single volume appeared to be anywhere in the house. In this fashion the holiday was secured, and the following morning early Spencer was sent to retrieve the missing books. But unfortunately it had rained in the night ; they were found to be sodden with wet, the covers of those which had been uppermost were reduced to pulp, and thus the true facts of the case were apparent. History draws a discreet veil over the sequel. The fact that the back windows of their home commanded a view of the mews proved a never-failing source of entertainment to the children. They watched the carriages and horses come and go, they knew the various drivers by sight, and established a bowing acquaintance with some. Lord Foley's coachman in a cocked hat was the object of their never-failing admiration ; and just as William De Morgan in his nursery twenty years earlier had decided that when he attained to man's estate he would be a sweep and a Jack-in-the-Green, so — alas ! for the mutabiUty of human wishes ! — did Spencer Pickering determine that he would one day be a coachman and thrill all onlookers with a portly presence and envied headgear. By and by, a species of Dumb-Crambo friendship was instituted by the children with some of the residents in the stables below, and another particularly attractive coachman and his THE STORY OF THE PICKERINGS 149 wife, for some inexplicable reason, were known to them by the names of the ' He ha ! ha ! ' and the ' She ha ! ha ! ' The ' She ha ! ha 1 ' must have developed a decided affection towards the two mischievous sprites who signalled greetings to her from the balcony, for soon a more satisfactory mode of communication with them was established. A string was let down by the chil- dren to which pieces of toff}^ of their own making were attached as a gift to their unknown friend, who subsequently used to sign to them to let it descend, when she would tie on to it a little basket filled with delicious cakes and tartlets of her own baking which she watched mount to the balcony with supreme satis- faction. This mode of communication may have been suggested by hearing the nurses discuss the reprehensible behaviour of Miss De Horsey, who lived next door, and who used to electrify the respectable neighbourhood by letting down a string weighted by a bit of coal, at the hour when Lord Cardigan rode past. To this the latter attached his bUlets-dmix , which were promptly hauled up by the lady, until such time as she threw the last remnant of discretion to the winds, and departed finally from her father's house to the protection of her married lover. Till that took place, however, her vagaries continued to furnish perpetual food for comment throughout Upper Grosvenor Street, as did her startling costumes ; and the children at No. 6 used to watch her set out on her horse daily, clothed in one of the remarkable riding-habits which she affected — one was a bright green cloth, one a violet velvet, and one a black velvet, with each of which she used to wear a hat adorned with nodding plumes. Nevertheless, as Evelyn had established a human interest in regard to the denizens of the mews at the back of her home, so what was termed a balcony friendship was instituted with certain children who lived opposite, the family of Sir John, afterwards Lord, St. Aubyn. Since their respective parents were not acquainted, the children held that neither were they acquainted in the orthodox sense, wherefore they would pass each other in the street with a blank expression and punctiliously averted faces ; but on their opposite balconies they were friends, and a species of communication was established by signalling which was a source of amusement to each. Soon, when their respective elders were safely out of the way, little plays were enacted on each balcony for the benefit of the opposite neigh- bour, or charades performed with gesticulations which took the place of words, when the performers used to dress up in a fashion that amazed the passers-by who could catch occasional glimpses of them from the street below. At length, one day, Mrs. Picker- ing, returning early from a drive, observed a small but interested crowd gathered near her house, on the balcony of which two minute Christy miinstrels with blackened faces were performing 150 EVELYN DE MORGAN on the bones and banjo. After this, the balcony theatricals were continued with more difficulty, on account of the closer supervision to which the would-be actors were subjected, and the Tragic Muse was principally in demand at their performances owing to the superior noiselessness of pathos to buffoonery. A far from silent assistant on these occasions, however, was a beautiful green parrot which used to swing contentedly in a cage on the balcony of No. 6, and who may be considered to have been the unconscious instrument in an unsuspected train of events. Lady Mary Waddup, as she was called — the surname being bestowed out of comphment to the cook — had once occupied her post of vantage while the house was being painted, and ever afterwards she indulged in an accom- plishment which she had learnt on this occasion. With her head cocked on one side, and a mischievous gleam in her bright eyes, she would wait with uncanny shrewdness till some unwary passer-by came near, when she would call out in a piercing voice — ' Take care ! Take care ! Wet paint ! Wet paint ! ' The victim of this farce would naturally start and anxiously examine his or her garments, then glance in perplexity at the paint, and next at the balcony whence came the shrill warning, but where no one w^as visible. Needless to say, the children rejoiced in this performance, till poor ' Lady Mary ' came to an untimely end by devouring the heads of a box of matches which she pulled into her cage. The nurses in relating her sad fate always referred to the instruments of her destruction as ' Lucifer matches,' and an impression consequently gained ground amongst the small occupants of the nursery that the Prince of Darkness had specially baited the delicacy which had proved the undoing of their favourite. It may have been the conduct of ' Lady Mary ' in regard to innocent pedestrians which suggested another amusement that was in great favour with its perpetrators, till one day it mis- carried in an alarming manner. Like the gi-een parrot, the conspirators would watch from the balcony tiU som.e suitable victim was selected from amongst those who passed below, whereupon a slight shower of water would be sprinkled judici- ously and fall, ' like the gentle rain from heaven,' upon the devoted head of the surprised recipient. If the victim started and, glancing up at the heavens, prepared to unfurl an umbrella, gi'eat was the triumph of the unseen onlookers ; but one day the jest was carried too far. Evelyn, armed with a squirt and guarded by Spencer who acted as sentinel, hid behind the creeper on the balcony. Soon she espied a man coming down the street whose self-complacency seemed to call for drastic treatment. He was wearing pale grey trousers, white spats and shiny boots, a faultless grey top hat, a white button-hole and lavender kid Panel of six tiles, representing a long-necked bottle with roses, the bottle Itself being decorated with turquolse-blue Howers on a dark blue ground. Height 24 inches. Width 16 inches. [At the Victoria & Albert Museum, LondOfi THE STORY OF THE PICKERINGS 151 gloves ; his walk was conceited and his air of self-satisfaction was aggressive. Directly he was within range, she took aim, and with a well- directed ' squirt ' sent a shower upon the fop below and bobbed o\it of sight. She heard an exclamation, followed by a pause, and then a ring at the front-door vibrated with ominous signi- ficance through the house. In a sudden panic she tied to the nursery, while her drenched victim below demanded furiously to see 'the lady of the house.' Mrs. Pickering, on being told what had happened, in some alarm refused to go down, and sent the head nurse Loutitt, a responsible Scottish body, to pacify the injured stranger, and, incidentally, to dry him. But he would accept no apology. ' Such behaviour is a scandal ! ' he protested ; ' I insist on seeing the boy who acted in this manner that I may give him a lesson he will not forget.' * It was no boy,' responded the nurse firmly, ' but our young leddy. She will be doing the things she should not ! ' But the stranger insisted that this was not the truth — he had seen a boy upon the balcony, and unless he could have every assurance that that obnoxious boy should be flogged, he would fetch the police. At length the nurse, in self-defence, sent for Evelyn, and when a particularly gentle and pretty- mannered little girl entered, and admitted that it was she who had wantonly damaged his top hat, the stranger appeared dis- concerted ; he blustered more feebly, and soon, with some mild admonitions to her not to indulge again in that particular form of recreation, he seized his damp headgear and took his departure. Apparently as a result of this untoward incident, one form of entertainment in which the children had delighted was banned by the nurses. Before the days when orthodox drawing-lessons were instituted as part of the school-room routine, they had been given little boxes of paints Mdth which they began to draw and colour crude pictures. The mess which they made, however, with the tinted water, and the consequent damage to their clothes, was seized upon by the powers which ruled in the nursery as an excuse to forbid an otherwise harmless occupation ; and in order to enforce compliance with this prohibition, all water- bottles and jugs were placed beyond the reach of small arms Evelyn, however, who had found the amusement congenial, was determined not to be thwarted in this manner. She there- fore provided herself with a doll's tea-pot, and when she went out for a walk with the nurses she lagged behind and hurriedly stole water from the gutters or puddles with which, in secret, she contrived to pursue her amusement unsuspected. A few of these early attempts at Art have survived — some flowers cleverly drawn and some spirited figures in vivid garments ; but these are not more remarkable than similar attempts by other 152 EVELYN DE MORGAN girls of her age. What is of interest to note is the determination of so small a child and the patient persistence with which she achieved her object in spite of opposition. This must have been all the more diftkult because of the extreme vigilance with which she and her brothers were guarded when out walking at that date. There had for some time been a great scare caused by the frequent cases of child-stealing which had occurred. Children had been kidnapped with diabolical cleverness and kept for a reward, or in more tragic instances had disappeared and been heard of no more. So alarmed, therefore, had Mr. Pickering become at the recurrence of this crime that he always had a nurse a-piece for each of his children, and all were well drilled in the necessity for closely guarding their charges — from the staid head-nurse, before mentioned, to a prototype of the De Morgans' ' Janey ' of twenty years earlier — a pretty, younger Jane, who at the age of sixteen entered a service wiiich she never afterwards quitted. CHAPTER VII PEN-DRIFT {To he omitted by the captious) IN studying the psychology of a child, and striving to trace the source of its ultimate development, one inevitably seeks the clue in its first halting attempts at self-expression. For as the greater events of Life hinge on trivialities, so the growth of mentality seems equally a sequence of Chance — a perplexing tangle of Cause and Effect — in which heredity and environment are eternally dominating some erratic hazard of the die. Of late, however, so much attention has been directed to the effusions of youthful authors and poets — most of whom in after-life belied their early promise — that one hesitates to add to the number. Yet a peep into the mind of a very young child is not without amusement, and a few quotations, unexpur gated in spelling and diction, may be given, since the reader who so prefers can, without loss of consecutiveness in the context, leave this entire chapter unread. To Evelyn, a restless child teeming with imagination which had as yet found no adequate outlet, the idea of venting her thoughts on paper first came through an unexpected channel, and was eagerly adopted. In the back drawing-room of the house in Upper Grosvenor Street was a large china bowl filled with little scrolls of parch- ment yellow with age, tied by coloured ribbons. Each of these contained a ' Fate ' in verse, written in a fine, pointed hand by some ingenious ancestor. Visitors attracted by the sight of these tiny scrolls would dip their hands into the bowl and read their ' fortune ' in prim, old-fashioned verse. ' They give people something to talk about when we are waiting for dinner ! ' Mrs. Pickering used to say if anyone asked her about these scrolls, and once she appended a story in this connexion which impressed itself on Evelyn's imagination. Going to a dinner-party one night, she noticed the drawing- room table to be dotted about with strange penny toys and cheap wooden figures — whereupon her hostess, observing her glance at these queer ornaments, explained their use. ' Men,' 153 154 EVELYN DE MORGAN she said, ' never know what to do with their hands 1 I usually have nice ivories and knick-knacks on my table ; but when I have a dinner-party I put them all away. If there is anything l5dng about, so surely the men will toy and fiddle with it till they break it. I lately had a valuable ivory destroyed that way, and the man never even noticed that he had snapped it in two ! Now I put about these little rubbishes, and you will see that they answer my purpose.' And so it befell that directly some men arrived at that dinner-party, first one and then another, idling near the table, picked up the penny knick-knacks and, without noticing what these were, absently twisted and turned and toyed with them, while Mrs. Pickering and her hostess exchanged amused glances ! Possibly the crowded centre-table which figured in all draw- ing-rooms at that date offered an element of temptation, since eliminated, to the Victorian diner-out ; but the mysterious, Scrolls of Fate in the bowl became a source of interest, not unmixed with awe, to Evelyn ; and apparently, having grasped their value as conversation-providers at social functions, she determined to manufacture some duplicates on her own account. In a small ivory box are still the little rolls of paper inscribed by her with verses in a babyish hand ; but surprised spinsters, testing futurity at her invitation, must have felt that the information furnished was unexpectedly decisive. One roll, with an air of relentless finality, proclaims : — ' Cast on a desert Island thou shalt be And canibles shall come and devour thee ! ' While another contains a grave warning against erudition carried to excess : — ' Crammed full of knowledge thou shalt burst For craving to become the first.' A third, indeed, suggests a sop to vanity : — ' A thousand sutors shall for thee sigh But in a Convent thou shalt dye ! ' But though expiring in a Convent might be rendered more exhilarating by the thought of those thousand unhappy suitors sighing vainly without the walls, apart from consolations such as these, all the prognostications have a sinister note ; even those which contain a faint element of gaiety temper it \\dth a counter- blast of disaster to foUow. ' In the ball-room dance away For thy life is short and gay 1 ' PEN-DRIFT 155 is scarcely a suggestion conducive to rendering a ball more enjoyable ; while even the most cheerful of the series hints at the hollowness of seeming bliss : — ' With beauteous face and empty hart In the world thou' 11 bear thy part 1 * is a prophecy which, although not explicit in its indication of exactly what part its victim was to play, at least successfully conveys a sense of false merriment with an aching void beneath ! None the less, it was these foolish little ' Scrolls of Fate ' which first suggested to the child the notion of trying to give some concrete form to the drifting fancies of her brain. Subse- quently verses, plays and short stories poured from her pen, together with unfinished ' novels,' usually abandoned after the first few chapters for some newer idea or plot. Each attempt at fiction has an introductory preface, a solemn dedication, and an appropriate verse of unmitigated gloom. All show the same characteristic — an inability to spell the simplest words and a greater accuracy when penning big ones — indicative of recourse to a dictionary where this was understood by the small writer to be imperative. A copy-book, bearing the title The Child's Own Fairy-Book, written at the age of eight, opens as follows : — PREFACE ' My object in writing this book is for the amusemefit of children between six and seven years old, and I greatly hope that with the help of my brother Mr. Spencer Pickering [then aged five], who has been so kind as to allow me to dedicate this book to him, I may be able to succeed.'' And the tale which follows, written by a child, herself half faery, half sprite, is full of quaint and dainty fancies, an odd mingling of the material and the ethereal, and of many a way- ward conceit which surely afterwards matured into the pictures that she painted. Of the Fairies' Palace she writes : — ' First of all I must tell you about there Palace, it was a beautiful bilding composed entirely of diamonds, and was lined inside with emeralds. There were an hundred rooms in it not including the great Hall (for I supose you know that fairys hve in comunities and that every comunity has its Queen). There beds were made of gold and lined with the softest Ider down. There was too a book which was held most dear to them and was kept by their Queen Graciocia, it was called the Dumet. This Dumet contained all the Fairy's reites and cerimonies, and also all they had the right to do. Now all Fairys have spectacels without glasses and made of diamond wire and called slumes which they always wore but which when on you never can discern, with these wires they can see all invisibel things, and also if they have them on, they can become visibel or invisibel just as the chouse. . . .* 156 EVELYN DE MORGAN And one finds oneself wondering whether the little writer herself wore slumes which enabled her to see so much beauty in the world around not ' visibel ' to others. But alas ! in the story the wonderful Fairy Palace with its diamond exterior and emerald ' lining ' vanishes all too abruptly to be explained away by the following sententious note : — ' The preceding fairy-tale was begun at an early age hut was unfortunately never terminated as the authoress was called to more pressing duties.' This effort is immediately followed in the same copy-book by a more ambitious work, which announces itself to be Nora de Brant : a Novel ; and which also has a preface as follows : — PREFACE ' Feeling the want of recreation books for the young the authoress has entered the lists with so many of her country-women to endeavour to"suply the young folks of the present day with amusing and at the same time insiructif tales and though some may smile at the idea of anything instructif being contained in a novel, the authoress hopes to prove that it is by no means impossible. ' M. E. P.' Next follow verses, portending tragedy to come, and then the story begins : — ' Beautifully situated amoungst the w-ild mountains of Westmoorland Braiesford Hall raised its proud Wals to the admiring eye and seemed contenptiously to behold from afar the little vilage of Braiesford with its humble cottages and its pretty little country Church, its vilage green were the Children were wont to play when school was over and all its rural sceenes as it peacefully lay in the vally below. Braiesford Hall had long been in the posesion of the de Brants the family boasted of their ancestry, and could trace their pedigree back to the time of the quonquest, and had received the grant of Braiesford lands from Herrie the eight in the year 1511. ' The present Mr. de Brant was a young man who had not yet attained his thirtieth year his father had unfortunately died from a fall from his hoarse when he was very young and he had thus become heir to the Braies- ford estate at the early age of ten. Accustomed to have everything his own way, to be made much of by everyone, with an indulgent mother, who knew not how to say No ! and with almost everything he could wish for at his disposal, the spoilt child grew up to be a selfish pasionate man who could not bare to be contradicted in the slightest tiling. His mother died shortly after he had come of age, and his two sisters, Jane and IMageret, who were some years older than himself, prefered living in a small house near London than remaining at the hall, as he proposed they should. ' About the time when our story begins it was rumoured in the vilage that the Squire had a Lady Love up in the great City, and it certainly looked very like it for he was never to be found at the hall, if anyone inquired after him the pondered footman was sure to answer with a profound bow that his Master was in London and that the last thing they had heard of him was (and here Mr. Jhon would give a captavating smile) PEN-DRIFT 157 that he was in perfect health. Many and Many were the conjectures made by the inquisitive vilagers.but they all agreed in one point that was namely that Mr. Jhon knew something about the matter, and though Suzanna Mairy, the prittiest girl in the vilags set to work to discover all about it, she was bafied at the first onset, foi alas her shining curls and best bonnet seemed to have no efect on the iron heart of IVIr. Jhon, for he merely grined and shook his curly whig and replied that " his Master had gone to towTi on business " so poor Suzanna had to give up the case as quite hopeless, but the curiosity of the vilagers was soon to be gratyfied for not long after the news reached Braiesford that the Squire had been married in London and that he and his bride would pass the night at the Hall as they proceeded on their marraige tour in Scotland. ' We will not dwell upon the bustle of preparations that imidiatly took place for the reception of the bride, nor upon the expectations of the old gossips as they sat over their sociable cups of tea and wondered what Madam would be like, but will at once pass to the next day when, about six o'clock in the evening, the sound of hoarse" s hoofs were heard in the distance and in an instant the road was lined with the egar vilagers who were anxious to catch a glimpse of the bride as the carraige drove rapidly along and passed under the triumphal ach which had been erected at the entrance of the vilage the people gave three loud cheers. The Squire kept bowing and smiling at the window but not one glimpse of his lady did the disopointed vilagers get, as she was tow tired to do anything but lay languidly back on the cushioned seat. As they drove up the broad carraige drive that led to the Hall Mr. de Brant bade his wife looli at her future home expressing a hope that she was satisfied with it she replied in the affirmatif but seemed too weary to pay much attention to anything. ' But it is time that I should introduce you to the newly married couple it is an old saying and one that is generaly acted upon that ladies ought to come before Gentlemen, but I mean to brak through every sense of propriety and good maners and begin with the Gentleman : — ' Whereupon the writer at once proceeds to describe Mervyn de Brant as ' a tall substantial-looking man ' who considered himself ' the most important personage in the universe ' and whose temper was uncertain as he was ' pasionate beyond mcsure.' His wife whom he had just married at ' St. George's, Hannover Square,' wore an enormous ' cheegnon ' and was ex- ceedingly haughty, principally, it seems, because her father had been killed at the Battle of Waterloo. This being so, apart from the little interest which she took in the first sight of her new home, she proceeded to flout the old servants who were assembled to greet her on her arrival and who, including the ' captavating Mr. Jhon,' took great offence at the airs of herself and her lady's maid, by name ' Mrs. Struttings.' Hence occurred the first matrimonial tiff between the newly married couple. The story relates : — ' Mr. de Brant was by no means pleased with his wife's conduct towards the servants, and therefore in the first spare moment he reproaved her mildly for the want of afferbihty in her manner. ' " Indeed Mervyn " was the haughty rejoinder, " I could not have 158 EVELYN DE MORGAN believed it of you the idea of your expecting me to shake hands and make much of the domestics ! " ' " I did not mean to oUcnd you," retorted Mr. De Brant, " but then you see, my dear Gertrude, the servants here are not hkc your mother's and are not used to such treatment as you gave them tliis evening and I am aflraid that they will take it ill." ' " They must learn to take nothing amiss that / choose to give them," was the answer, accompanied with a proud toss of the head. ' Mr. de Brant took no notice of this last speech of Gertrude's, but merely said, as he took up his candle and prepared to leave the room, " The carriage is ordered at nine to-morrow morning and we must start punctually." ' " That is to say if I choose to go ! " was the reply. Mr. de Brant made no answer but went out slaming the door violently after him and strode upstairs in no very pleasant frame of mind. ' The next morning they started for Scotland, but it is not my intention to follow them on their plescnt and amusing tour and as we have the privilage of skipping over a month or so at our pleasure we will do so on the present occasion and turn at once to the time whene Mr. and Mrs. de Brant returned and took up their stationary abode at the Hall. ' Things went on pretty quietly on the whole with occasional little outbraks, Gertrude going her way and her husband his, now and then their comeing in collision with each other, and so the first year of their married life passed tolerably smoothly. ' The next object of important to which I shall call your attention is to the birth of a little son which greatly delighted Mr. de Brant and who was christened ' But apparently the effort of finding a suitable title for that son and heir to the lands inherited from the ' quonquest ' gave pause to the inspiration of the young writer, for the ' stationary ' life of the de Brants comes to an abrupt termination, and in a slightly older hand-writing the authoress has added senten- tiously : — ' This novel begun at an early age was unfortunately never terminated as the author was at that period so fully occupied with poetical and dramatic compositions, that no time was left for the more humble prose.^ Nevertheless, in her school-room compositions, the ' humble prose ' still survived, and caused some dismay to those who had to deal with it. Her Parisian daily governess, a prim and de- corous lady, at first used to set her as a task to be prepared out of lesson-hours, some original correspondence in French, and rashly left the subject to her pupil's own selection, ' Que peut on faire avec une telle enfant ? ' she exclaimed later as she placed in Mrs. Pickering's hands the following result. Monsieur U Marquis de Valhe d Madame la Marquise de VaUse. ' Paris, Mars 6me. ' CiiliRE ErousE, — ' Je ne sais comment commen9ea cette lettre, j'ai tant de choses ^ tc dire, ct j'ai bien pcur de tc fdcher ; mais pour me douner la force qu'il PEN-DRIFT 159 me faut, je m'imaginerai que tes jolies Idvxes me sourient en disant " Con- tinue , Continue, — je te pardonnerai tout / " Et cette pens