He, in common with many others, imagined that, with the return of peace, an era of great prosperity would at once set in. But in this he was mistaken, for history records that just the opposite occurred. The war had made demands on manufacturers, farmers, and provision dealers which were met by an increase in inventions and in production, and this meant wealth and prosperity to many. When the war ceased, this demand suddenly fell off; the soldiers returning to their country swelled the army of the unemployed, and there resulted increased misery among the lower cla.s.ses, and a check to the prosperity of the middle and upper cla.s.ses. It would seem, therefore, that Fate dealt more kindly with the young man than he, at that time, realized; for, had he remained, his discouragements would undoubtedly have increased; whereas, by his return to his native land, although meeting with many disappointments and suffering many hardships, he was gradually turned into a path which ultimately led to fame and fortune.
On May 3, 1815, he writes to his parents:--
"With respect to returning home, I shall make my arrangements to be with you (should my life be spared) by the end of September next, or the beginning of October; but it will be necessary that I should be in England again (provided always Providence permits) by September following, as arrangements which I have made will require my presence.
This I will fully explain when I meet you.
"The moment I get home I wish to begin work, so that I should like to have some portraits bespoken in season. I shall charge forty dollars less than Stuart for my portraits, so that, if any of my good friends are ready, I will begin the moment I have said "how do ye do" to them.
"I wish to do as much as possible in the year I am with you. If I could get a commission or two for some large pictures for a church or public hall, to the amount of two or three thousand dollars, I should feel much gratified. I do not despair of such an event, for, through your influence with the clergy and their influence with their people, I think some commission for a scripture subject for a church might be obtained; a crucifixion, for instance.
"It may, perhaps, be said that the country is not rich enough to purchase large pictures; yes, but two or three thousand dollars can be paid for an entertainment which is gone in a day, and whose effects are to demoralize and debilitate, whilst the same sum expended on a fine picture would be adding an ornament to the country which would be lasting. It would tend to elevate and refine the public feeling by turning their thoughts from sensuality and luxury to intellectual pleasures, and it would encourage and support a cla.s.s of citizens who have always been reckoned among the brightest stars in the constellation of American worthies, and who are, to this day, compelled to exile themselves from their country and all that is dear to them, in order to obtain a bare subsistence.
"I do not speak of _portrait-painters;_ had I no higher thoughts than being a first-rate portrait-painter, I would have chosen a far different profession. My ambition is to be among those who shall revive the splendor of the fifteenth century; to rival the genius of a Raphael, a Michael Angelo, or a t.i.tian; my ambition is to be enlisted in the constellation of genius now rising in this country; I wish to shine, not by a light borrowed from them, but to strive to shine the brightest.
"If I could return home and stay a year visiting my friends in various parts of the Union, and, by painting portraits, make sufficient to bring me to England again at the end of the year, whilst I obtained commissions enough to employ me and support me while in England, I think, in the course of a year or two, I shall have obtained sufficient credit to enable me to return home, if not for the remainder of my life, at least to pay a good long visit.
"In all these plans I wish you to understand me as always taking into consideration _the will of Providence;_ and, in every plan for future operation, I hope I am not forgetful of the uncertainty of human life, and I wish always to say _should I live_ I will do this or that....
"I perceive by your late letters that you suppose I am painting a large picture. I did think of it some time ago and was only deterred on account of the expenses attending it. All this I will explain to your entire satisfaction when I see you, and why I do not think it expedient to make an exhibition when I return.
"I perceive also that you are a little too sanguine with respect to me and expect a little too much from me. You must recollect I am yet but a student and that a picture of any merit is not painted in a day.
Experienced as Mr. West is (and he also paints quicker than any other artist), his last large picture cost him between three and four years"
constant attention. Mr. Allston was nearly two years in painting his large picture. Young Haydon was three years painting his large picture, is now painting another on which he has been at work one year and expects to be two years more on it. Leslie was ten months painting his picture, and my "Hercules" cost me nearly a year"s study. So you see that large pictures are not the work of a moment.
"All these matters we will talk over one of these days, and all will be set right. I had better paint Miss Russell"s, Aunt Salisbury"s, and Dr.
Bartlett"s pictures at home for a very good reason I will give you."
He did, however, complete a large historical, or rather mythological, painting before leaving England. Whether it was begun before or after writing the foregoing letter, I do not know, but Mr. Dunlap (whom I have already quoted) has this to say about it:--
"Encouraged by the flattering reception of his first works in painting and in sculpture, the young artist redoubled his energies in his studies and determined to contend for the highest premium in historical composition offered by the Royal Academy at the beginning of the year 1814. The subject was "The Judgment of Jupiter in the case of Apollo, Marpessa and Idas." The premium offered was a gold medal and fifty guineas. The decision was to take place in December of 1815. The composition containing four figures required much study, but, by the exercise of great diligence, the picture was completed by the middle of July.
"Our young painter had now been in England four years, one year longer than the time allowed him by his parents, and he had to return immediately home; but he had finished his picture under the conviction, strengthened by the opinion of West, that it would be allowed to remain and compete with those of the other candidates. To his regret the pet.i.tion to the council of the Royal Academy for this favor, handed in to them by West and advocated strongly by him and Fuseli, was not granted.
He was told that it was necessary, according to the rules of the Academy, that the artist should be present to receive the premium; it could not be received by proxy. Fuseli expressed himself in very indignant terms at the narrowness of this decision.
"Thus disappointed, the artist had but one mode of consolation. He invited West to see his picture before he packed it up, at the same time requesting Mr. West to inform him through Mr. Leslie, after the premium should be adjudged in December, what chance he would have had if he had remained. Mr. West, after sitting before the picture for a long time, promised to comply with the request, but added: "You had better remain, sir.""
In a letter quoted, without a date, by Mr. Prime, which was written from Bristol, but which seems to have been lost, I find the following:--
"James Russell, Esq., has been extremely attentive to me. He has a very fine family consisting of four daughters and, I think, a son who is absent in the East Indies. The daughters are very beautiful, accomplished, and amiable, especially the youngest, Lucy. I came very near being at my old game of falling in love, but I find that love and painting are quarrelsome companions, and that the house of my heart is too small for both of them; so I have turned Mrs. Love out-of-doors. Time enough, thought I (with true old bachelor complacency), time enough for you these ten years to come. Mr. Russell"s portrait I have painted as a present to Miss Russell, and will send it to her as soon as I can get an opportunity. It is an excellent likeness of him."
He must either have said more in this letter, or have written another after the family verdict (that terrible family verdict) had been p.r.o.nounced, for in the letter of April 23, 1815, from which I have already quoted, he refers to this portrait as follows:--
"As to the portrait which I painted of Mr. Russell, I am sorry you mentioned it to Miss Russell, as I particularly requested that you would not, because, in case of failure, it would be a disappointment to her; but as you have told her, I must now explain. In the first place it is not a picture that will do me any credit. I was unfortunate in the light which I chose to paint him in; I wished to make it my best picture and so made it my worst, for I worked too timidly on it. It is a likeness, indeed, a very strong likeness, but the family are not pleased with it, and they say that I have not flattered him, that I have made him too old.
So I determined I would not send it, indeed, I promised them I would not send it; but, notwithstanding, as I know Miss Russell will be good enough to comply with my conditions, I will send it directly; for, as it is a good likeness, every one except the family knowing it instantly, and Mr.
Allston saying that it is a _very strong likeness_, it will on that account be a gratification to her. But I _particularly_ and _expressly request_ that it be kept in a private room to be shown _only_ to friends and relations, and that I _may never be mentioned as the painter;_ and, moreover, that no _artist_ or _miniature painter_ be allowed to see it.
On these conditions I send it, taking for granted they will be complied with, and without waiting for an answer."
The parents of that generation were not frugal of counsel and advice, even when their children had reached years of discretion and had flown far away from the family nest.
The father, in a letter of May 20, 1815, thus gently reproves his son:--
"To-day we have received your letters to March 23.... You evidently misconceived our views in the letters to which you allude, and felt much too strongly our advice and remarks in respect to your writing us so much on politics. What we said was the affectionate advice of your parents, who loved you very tenderly, and who were not unwilling you should judge for yourself though you might differ from them. We have ever made a very candid allowance for you, and so have all your friends, and we have never for a moment believed we should differ a fortnight after you should come home and converse with us. You have, in the ardor of feeling, construed many observations in our letters as censuring you and designed to wound your feelings, which were not intended in the remotest degree by us for any such purpose....
"I am sorry to hear of the death of Mr. Thornton. He was a good man."
His mother was much less gentle in her reproof. I cull the following sentences from a long letter of June 1, 1815:--
"In perfect consistency with the feelings towards you all, above described, we may and ought to tell you, and that with the greatest plainness, of anything that we deem improper in any part of your conduct, either in a civil, social, or religious view. This we feel it our duty to do and shall continue to do as long as we live; and it will ever be your duty to receive from us the advice, counsel, and reproof, which we may, from time to time, favor you with, with the most perfect respect and dutiful observance; and, when you differ from us on any point whatever, let that difference be conveyed to us in the most delicate and gentlemanly manner. Let this be done not only while you are under age and dependent on your parents for your support, but when you are independent, and when you are head of a family, and even of a profession, if you ever should be either.... I have dwelt longer on this subject, as I think you have, in some of your last letters, been somewhat deficient in that respect which your own good sense will at once convince you was, on all accounts, due, and which I know you feel the propriety of without any further observations."
On June 2, 1815, the father writes:--
"We have just received a letter from your uncle, James E.B. Finley, of Carolina. He fears you will remain in Europe, but hopes you have so much _amor patrice_ as to return and display your talents in raising the military and naval glory of the nation, by exhibiting on canvas some of her late naval and land actions, and also promote the fine arts among us.
He is, you know, an enthusiastic Republican and patriot and a warm approver of the late war, but an amiable, excellent man. I am by no means certain that it would not be best for you to come home this fall and spend a year or two in this country in painting some portraits, but especially historical pieces and landscapes. You might, I think, in this way succeed in getting something to support you afterwards in Europe for a few years.
"I hope the time is not distant when artists in your profession, and of the first cla.s.s, will be honorably patronized and supported in this country. In this case you can come and live with us, which would give us much satisfaction."
The young man still took a deep interest in affairs political, and speculated rather keenly on the outcome of the tremendous happenings on the Continent.
On June 26, 1815, he writes:--
"You will have heard of the dreadful battle in Flanders before this reaches you. The loss of the English is immense, indeed almost all their finest officers and the flower of their army; not less than 800 officers and upwards of 15,000 men, some say 20,000. But it has been decisive if the news of to-day be true, that Napoleon has abdicated. What the event of these unparalleled times will be no mortal can pretend to foresee. I have much to tell you when I see you. Perhaps you had better not write after the receipt of this, as it may be more than two months before an answer could be received.
"P.S. The papers of to-night confirm the news of this morning. Bonaparte is no longer a dangerous man; he has abdicated, and, in all probability, a republican form of government will be the future government of France, if they are capable of enjoying such a government. But no one can foresee events; there may be a long peace, or the world may be torn worse than it yet has been. Revolution seems to succeed revolution so rapidly that, in looking back on our lives, we seem to have lived a thousand years, and wonders of late seem to scorn to come alone; they come in cl.u.s.ters."
The battle in Flanders was the battle of Waterloo, which was fought on the 18th day of June, and on the 6th of July the allied armies again entered Paris. Referring to these events many years later, Morse said:--
"It was on one of my visits, in the year 1815, that an incident occurred which well ill.u.s.trates the character of the great philanthropist [Mr.
Wilberforce]. As I pa.s.sed through Hyde Park on my way to Kensington Gore, I observed that great crowds had gathered, and rumors were rife that the allied armies had entered Paris, that Napoleon was a prisoner, and that the war was virtually at an end; and it was momentarily expected that the park guns would announce the good news to the people.
"On entering the drawing-room at Mr. Wilberforce"s I found the company, consisting of Mr. Thornton [his memory must have played him false in this particular as Mr. Thornton died some time before], Mr. Macaulay, Mr.
Grant, the father, and his two sons Robert and Charles, and Robert Owen of Lanark, in quite excited conversation respecting the rumors that prevailed. Mr. Wilberforce expatiated largely on the prospects of a universal peace in consequence of the probable overthrow of Napoleon, whom naturally he considered the great disturber of the nations. At every period, however, he exclaimed: "It is too good to be true, it cannot be true." He was altogether skeptical in regard to the rumors.
"The general subject, however, was the absorbing topic at the dinner-table. After dinner the company joined the ladies in the drawing-room. I sat near a window which looked put in the direction of the distant park. Presently a flash and a distant dull report of a gun attracted my attention, but was unnoticed by the rest of the company.
Another flash and report a.s.sured me that the park guns were firing, and at once I called Mr. Wilberforce"s attention to the fact. Running to the window he threw it up in time to see the next flash and hear the report.
Clasping his hands in silence, with the tears rolling down his cheeks, he stood for a few moments perfectly absorbed in thought, and, before uttering a word, embraced his wife and daughters, and shook hands with every one in the room. The scene was one not to be forgotten."
We learn from a letter of his mother"s dated June 27, 1815, that the painting of the "Dying Hercules" had at last been received, but that the plaster cast of the same subject was still mysteriously missing. The painting was much admired, and the mother says:--
"Your friend Mr. Tisdale says the picture of the Hercules ought to be in Boston as the beginning of a gallery of paintings, and that the Bostonians ought not to permit it to go from here. Whether they will or not, I know not. I place no confidence in them, but they may take a fit into their heads to patronize the fine arts, and, in that case, they have it in their power undoubtedly to do as much as any city in this country towards their support."
Morse had now made up his mind to return home, although his parents, in their letters of that time, had given him leave to stay longer if he thought it would be for his best interest, but his father had made it clear that he must, from this time forth, depend on his own exertions. He hoped that (Providence permitting) he need only spend a year at home in earning enough money to warrant his returning to Europe. Providence, however, willed otherwise, and he did not return to Europe until fourteen years later.
The next letter is dated from Liverpool, August 8, 1815, and is but a short one. I shall quote the first few sentences:--
"I have arrived thus far on my way home. I left London the 5th and arrived in this place yesterday the 7th, at which time, within an hour, four years ago, I landed in England. I have not yet determined by what vessel to return; I have a choice of a great many. The Ceres is the first that sails, but I do not like her accommodations. The Liverpool packet sails about the 25th, and, as she has always been a favorite ship with me, it is not improbable I may return in her."
He decided to sail in the Ceres, however, to his sorrow, for the voyage home was a long and dreadful one. The record of those terrible fifty-eight days, carefully set down in his journal, reads like an Odyssey of misfortune and almost of disaster.