You affirm in the first part of your note that, after due consideration, you think the real value of the picture is four hundred dollars (without the frame), yet, had your crop been good, your conscience would have adjudged me the remaining four hundred dollars without hesitation; and again (if your crop should be good) you could pay me the four hundred dollars next season.
Must I understand from this, madam, that the goodness or badness of your crop is the scale on which your conscience measures your obligation to pay a just debt, and that it contracts or expands as your crop increases or diminishes? Pardon me, madam, if I say that this appears to be the case from your letter.
My wish throughout this whole business has been to accommodate the time and terms of payment as much to your convenience as I could consistently with my duty to my family and myself. As a proof of this you need only advert to my note of yesterday, in which I inform you that I am paying interest on money borrowed for the use of my family which your debt, if it had been promptly paid, would have prevented.
And in another letter he says:--
"I completed your picture in the summer with two others which have given, as far as I can learn, entire satisfaction. Yours was painted with the same attention and with the same ability as the others, and admired as a picture, after it was finished, as much by some as the others, and more by many.
"Among these latter were the celebrated Colonel Trumbull and Vanderlyn, painters of New York.... You cannot but recollect, madam, that when you yourself with your children visited it, not withstanding you expressed yourself before them in terms so strong against it and so wounding to my feelings, yet all your children dissented from you, the youngest saying it was "mama," and the eldest, "I am sure, mother, it is very like you."...
"Your picture, from the day I commenced it, has been the source of one of my greatest trials, and, if it has taught me in any degree patience and forbearance, I shall have abundant reason to be thankful for the affliction."
In the end he consented to take less than had been agreed upon in order to close the incident.
As a happy contrast to this episode we have the following quotation from a letter to his wife written on February 17, 1820:--
"Did I tell you in my last that Colonel Alston insisted on giving me _two hundred dollars_ more than I asked for the picture of little Sally, and a commission to paint her again full length next season, smaller than the last and larger than the first portrait, for which I shall receive four hundred dollars? He intimates also that I am to paint a picture annually for him. Is not he a strange man? (as people say here). I wish some more of the great fortunes in this part of the country would be as strange and encourage other artists who are men of genius and starving for want of employment."
Morse returned to the North in the spring of 1820 and joined his mother and his wife and daughter in New Haven, where they had preceded him and where they were comfortably and agreeably settled, as will appear from the following sentence in a letter to his good friend and mentor, Henry Bromfield, of London, dated August, 1820: "You will perceive by the heading of this letter that I am in New Haven. My father and his family have left Charlestown, Ma.s.sachusetts, and are settled in this place. My own family also, consisting of wife and daughter, are pleasantly settled in this delightful spot. I have built me a fine painting-room attached to my house in which I paint my large pictures in the summer, and in the winter I migrate to Charleston, South Carolina, where I have commissions sufficient to employ me for some years to come."
He returned to Charleston in the fall of 1820 and was again compelled to go alone. He writes to his wife on December 27: "I feel the separation this time more than ever, and I felt the other day, when I saw the steamship start for New York, that I had almost a mind to return in her."
From this sentence we learn that the slow schooner of the preceding years had been supplanted by the more rapid steamship, but that is, unfortunately, all he has to say of this great step forward in human progress.
Further on in this same letter he says: "I am occupied fully so that I have no reason to complain. I have not a _press_ like the first season or like the last, but still I can say I am all the time employed.... My President pleases very much; I have heard no dissatisfaction expressed.
It is placed in the great Hall in a fine light and place.... Mrs. Ball wants some alterations, that is to say every five minutes she would like it to be different. She is the most unreasonable of all mortals; derangement is her only apology. I can"t tell you all in a letter, must wait till I see you. I shall get the rest of the cash from her shortly."
Just at this time the wave of prosperity on which the young man had so long floated, began to subside, for he writes to his wife on January 28, 1821:--
"I wish I could write encouragingly as to my professional pursuits, but I cannot. Notwithstanding the diminished price and the increase of exertion to please, and although I am conscious of painting much better portraits than formerly (which, indeed, stands to reason if I make continual exertion to improve), yet with all I receive no new commissions, cold and procrastinating answers from those to whom I write and who had put their names on my list. I give less satisfaction to those whom I have painted; I receive less attention also from some of those who formerly paid me much attention, and none at all from most."
But with his usual hopefulness he says later on in this letter:--
"Why should I expect my sky to be perpetually unclouded, my sun to be never obscured? I have thus far enjoyed more of the sunshine of prosperity than most of my fellow men. "Shall I receive good at the hands of the Lord and shall I not also receive evil?""
In this letter, a very long one, he suggests the establishment of an academy or school of painting in New Haven, so that he may be enabled to live at home with his family, and find time to paint some of the great historical works which he still longed to do. He also tells of the formation of such an academy in Charleston:--
"Since writing this there has been formed here an Academy of Arts to be erected immediately. J.R. Poinsett, Esq., is President, and six others with myself are chosen Directors. What this is going to lead to I don"t know. I heard Mr. Cogdell say that it was intended to have lectures read, among other things. I feel not very sanguine as to its success, still I shall do all in my power to help it on as long as I am here."
His forebodings seem to have been justified, for Mr. John S. Cogdell, a sculptor, thus writes of it in later years to Mr. Dunlap:--
"The Legislature granted a charter, but, my good sir, as they possessed no powers under the const.i.tution to confer taste or talent, and possessed none of those feelings which prompt to patronage, they gave none to the infant academy.... The inst.i.tution was allowed from apathy and opposition to die; but Mr. Poinsett and myself with a few others have purchased, with a hope of reviving, the establishment."
Referring to this academy the wife in New Haven, in a letter of February 25, 1821, says: "Mr. Silliman says he is not much pleased to hear that they have an academy for painting in Charleston. He is afraid they will decoy you there."
On March 11, 1821, Morse answers thus: "Tell Mr. Silliman I have stronger _magnets_ at New Haven than any academy can have, and, while that is the case, I cannot be decoyed permanently from home."
I wonder if he used the word "magnets" advisedly, for it was with Professor Silliman that he at that time pursued the studies in physics, including electricity, which had so interested him while in college, and it was largely due to the familiarity with the subject which he then acquired that he was, in later years, enabled successfully to perfect his invention.
On the 12th of March, 1821, another daughter was born to the young couple, and was named Elizabeth Ann after her paternal grandmother. The child lived but a few days, however, much to the grief of her parents and grandparents.
Charleston had now given all she had to give to the young painter, and he packed his belongings to return home with feelings both of joy and of regret. He was overjoyed at the prospect of so soon seeing his dearly loved wife and daughter, and his parents and brothers; at the same time he had met with great hospitality in Charleston; had made many firm friends; had impressed himself strongly on the life of the city, as he always did wherever he went, and had met with most gratifying success in his profession. A partial list of the portraits painted while he was there gives the names of fifty-five persons, and, as the prices received are appended, we learn that he received over four thousand dollars from his patrons for these portraits alone.
On March 31, 1821, he joyfully announces his homecoming: "I just drop you a hasty line to say that, in all probability, your husband will be with you as soon, if not sooner than this letter. I am entirely clear of all sitters, having outstayed my last application; have been engaged in finishing off and packing up for two days past and contemplate embarking by the middle or end of the coming week in the steamship for New York.
You must not be surprised, therefore, to see me soon after this reaches you; still don"t be disappointed if I am a little longer, as the winds most prevalent at this season are head winds in going to the North. I am busy in collecting my dues and paying my debts."
CHAPTER XII
MAY 23, 1821--DECEMBER 17, 1824
Accompanies Mr. Silliman to the Berkshires.--Takes his wife and daughter to Concord, New Hampshire.--Writes to his wife from Boston about a bonnet.--Goes to Washington, D.C.--Paints large picture of House of Representatives.--Artistic but not financial success.--Donates five hundred dollars to Yale.--Letter from Mr. DeForest.--New York "Observer."--Discouragements.--First son born.--Invents marble-carving machine.--Goes to Albany.--Stephen Van Rensselaer.--Slight encouragement in Albany.--Longing for a home.--Goes to New York.--Portrait of Chancellor Kent.--Appointed attache to Legation to Mexico.--High hopes.-- Takes affecting leave of his family.--Rough journey to Washington.-- Expedition to Mexico indefinitely postponed.--Returns North.--Settles in New York.--Fairly prosperous.
Much as Morse longed for a permanent home, where he could find continuous employment while surrounded by those he loved, it was not until many years afterwards and under totally different circ.u.mstances that his dream was realized. For the present the necessity of earning money for the support of his young family and for the a.s.sistance of his ageing father and mother drove him continually forth to new fields, and on May 23, 1821, which must have been only a few weeks after his return from the South, he writes to his wife from Pittsfield, Ma.s.sachusetts:--
"We are thus far on our tour safe and sound. Mr. Silliman"s health is very perceptibly better already. Last night we lodged at Litchfield; Mr.
Silliman had an excellent night and is in fine spirits.
"At Litchfield I called on Judge Reeves and sat a little while.... I called at Mr. Beecher"s with Mr. Silliman and Judge Gould; no one at home. Called with Mr. Silliman at Dr. Shelden"s, and stayed a few moments; sat a few moments also at Judge Gould"s.
"I was much pleased with the exterior appearance of Litchfield; saw at a distance Edwards"s pickerel pond.
"We left at five this morning, breakfasted at Norfolk, dined at Stockbridge. We there left the stage and have hired a wagon to go on to Middlebury, Vermont, at our leisure. We lodge here to-night and shall probably reach Bennington, Vermont, to-morrow night.
"I have made one slight pencil sketch of the Hoosac Mountain. At Stockbridge we visited the marble quarries, and to-morrow at Lanesborough shall visit the quarries of fine white marble there.
"I am much delighted with my excursion thus far. To travel with such a companion as Mr. Silliman I consider as highly advantageous as well as gratifying."
This is all the record I have of this particular trip. The Mr. Beecher referred to was the father of Henry Ward Beecher.
Later in the summer he accompanied his wife and little daughter to Concord, New Hampshire, and left them there with her father and mother.
Writing to her from Boston on his way back to New Haven, he says in characteristically masculine fashion:--
"I have talked with Aunt Bartlett about getting you a bonnet. She says that it is no time to get a fashionable winter bonnet in Boston now, and that it would be much better if you could get it in New York, as the Bostonians get their fashions from New York and, of course, much later than we should in New Haven. She thinks that white is better than blue, etc., etc., etc., which she can explain to you much better than I can.
She is willing, however, to get you any you wish if you still request it.
She thinks, if you cannot wait for the new fashion, that your black bonnet put into proper shape with black plumes would be as _tasty_ and fashionable as any you could procure. I think so, too. You had better write Aunt particularly about it."
While Morse had conscientiously tried to put the best of himself into the painting of portraits, and had succeeded better than he himself knew, he still longed for wider fields, and in November, 1821, he went to Washington, D.C., to begin a work which he for some time had had in contemplation, and which he now felt justified in undertaking. This was to be a large painting of the House of Representatives with many portraits of the members. The idea was well received at Washington and he obtained the use of one of the rooms at the Capitol for a studio, making it easy for the members to sit for him. It could not have been all plain sailing, however, for his wife says to him in a letter of December 28, 1821: "Knowing that perseverance is a trait in your character, we do not any of us feel surprised to hear you have overcome so many obstacles. You have undertaken a great work.... Every one thinks it must be a very popular subject and that you will make a splendid picture of it."
Writing to his wife he says:--
"I am up at daylight, have my breakfast and prayers over and commence the labors of the day long before the workmen are called to work on the Capitol by the bell. This I continue unremittingly till one o"clock, when I dine in about fifteen minutes and then pursue my labors until tea, which scarcely interrupts me, as I often have my cup of tea in one hand and my pencil in the other. Between ten and eleven o"clock I retire to rest. This has been my course every day (Sundays, of course, excepted) since I have been here, making about fourteen hours" study out of the twenty-four.
"This you will say is too hard, and that I shall injure my health. I can say that I never enjoyed better health, and my body, by the simple fare I live on, is disciplined to this course. As it will not be necessary to continue long so a.s.siduously I shall not fail to pursue it till the work is done.