(a very ungrateful song) as well as possible. He was vociferously encored, and well deserved it. ---- was simply abominable, without a redeeming point. ----, though less aggressively bad, was too insignificant to say much about at all. Of course, altogether, the solos, especially the more vigorous ones, were too weak for the choruses; that could not be otherwise short of having four pair of Lablache lungs. Costa led to perfection; it was a sight to see him.
_Friday_, PARIS.
DEAREST MAMMA,--I write you a few lines just to announce my safe return to Paris. You have no doubt by this time got the box back again. Henry was, as always, very kind to me, and I spent three days very simply at his house. I had intended, when I left this, to stay only two days in London, but those days being Sat.u.r.day and Sunday, I remembered that all the Galleries were shut, and therefore, being most anxious to see the new Veronese, I stayed over Monday. I was delighted with the pictures in the National Gallery and also at Marlborough House, but the annual exhibition at the British Inst.i.tution is _deplorable_. I have decided, on the advice of Buckner, Colnaghi, and others, to send my "n.i.g.g.e.rs" ("A Negro Dance"--water-colour--from sketch made in Algiers) to the Suffolk Street Exhibition (where I shall be well hung through Buckner"s intervention) _if_ I get done in time: it will be a hard race, as the Exhibition opens a month sooner than the R.A.
I reached home Tuesday evening at 10-1/2 o"clock, after a good pa.s.sage; I was, however, suffering from a shocking indigestion, and, to crown all, was kept awake till four in the morning by a ball immediately under my bed. Next morning I had to paint away at Gallatti (my model) w.i.l.l.y nilly (particularly nilly), feeling seedy and frightfully cross. However, my "Gehazi" is now as near as possible finished, and to-morrow I go in for the "n.i.g.g.e.rs." I hope, dear Mamma, you will let me hear at once what Lina or Suth. write; I am most anxious to hear more.
Good-bye, dear Mamma. Best love to all from your most affectionate
FRED.
_Friday, 26th._
I am happy to say I have just done my "n.i.g.g.e.rs," and though too late for the ordinary mode of conveyance on account of an accident in the papers, I am saved by the exceeding kindness of a secretary of the Sardinian Emba.s.sy, a great friend of mine; it will be taken over on Monday night by a messenger under the seals of the Emba.s.sy, and will just arrive in time. On Sunday I hope to show it to Monfort, Fleury, and Scheffer. I will let you know their verdict.
From America I have good and bad news. The bad is that my "Pan"
and "Venus" are _not being exhibited at all_ on account of their nudity, and are stowed away in a cupboard where F. Kemble with the most friendly and untiring perseverance contrived to discover them. This is a great nuisance. I have sent for them back at once; they know best whether or no it is advisable to exhibit such pictures in America, but they certainly should have let me know. I have written to Rossetti about it to-day, expressing my regret and desires, and have added "my pictures have been exposed to the wear and tear of several long journeys _not only_ entirely for no purpose, but, being shut out from the light, they are even suffering an injury; meanwhile I am neglecting the opportunity of showing and disposing of them in England, a possibility which I might willingly forego for the sake of supporting an enterprise in which I am interested, but not to adorn a hidden closet in the United States." f.a.n.n.y Kemble was charmed with the pictures, went often and pluckily to the forbidden cupboard, and said she only wished she could afford to buy them.
_Friday._
Since I last wrote I have had a note from Rossetti, the Secretary of the American Exhibition, giving me a piece of information about my "Romeo" which can"t fail to gratify you. He said that, had my picture not been bought by Mr. Harrison, a public subscription would have been opened to procure it for the Academy of Arts at Philadelphia. Rossetti answers me (as indeed I did not doubt) that he had not the remotest notion of the fate of "Pan" and "Venus." He has written on my request to beg they may be sent back at once to Europe. By Henry Greville"s urgent advice I have given notice that I shall send the "Orpheus," as they have applied for more pictures; things were selling so satisfactorily that there was scarcely anything left to exhibit in Boston. I am glad to be able to rea.s.sure you about the "n.i.g.g.e.rs." Sartoris _did_ like them exceedingly even before they were anything like as good as they are now. Cartwright, who is not _gene_ to dislike, is enchanted with them, and says if they are not sold at once people are fools, for he has not for some time seen anything he likes so much. Puliza Ricardo and other "publics" like it extremely. Robert Fleury considered it highly original, and said that if he only saw one little head in it he would say, "c"est d"un coloriste." R. Fleury, you know, blames very roundly what he does not like. Montfort, my most candid adviser, was delighted, and said of a particular bit "je vous a.s.sure c"est tout a fait comme Decamps." This is unconditional praise. Again I consulted him about its chances of success in the gallery of water-colours. He said, "_Comme aquarelle_ je vous promets qu"il n"y en a pas beaucoup qui font comme cela;"--about water colour being _infra. dig._, showing myself competent in _two_ materials can only raise me. Poor Scheffer was unwell and could not come. You see, dear Mammy, you need not be so uneasy. I fully appreciate your and Papa"s anxiety about my pictures; but it has too great a hold on you when it makes you think that I am entirely reckless and foolish, and that rather than give in I should tell a lie and say it was too late to withdraw a picture when it might still be done. Many thanks for the extract about Sutherland which, however, I had already seen, Henry Grev. having sent it me a week ago. My "n.i.g.g.e.rs"
arrived in time by great luck. Buckner G.o.dfathers them.
In haste with very best love, your affectionate boy,
FRED.
19 QUEEN STREET, 1859.
I have got, through the kindness of Elmore (R.A.), a sort of studio at the other end of the world; I believe I told you this in my last note; I suppose my things will come over in a week or less. I am in great doubt about being able to paint in that studio, and about its having been any use to come over to London without the possibility of a really good _locale_: however, here I am. I shall brush up my acquaintances and see a good deal of my friends. Don"t reckon on my _selling_ anything--_I_ don"t at all. My picture is hung so that it is virtually _impossible_ to see it. I went to look at my "n.i.g.g.e.rs" in Suffolk Street, and am confirmed in the idea (that also of my friends) that it is my best work. I have as yet nothing worth writing about, so good-bye, dearest Mamma, best love to all.
2 ORME SQUARE, _Sunday, 1859_.
Having got on Monday last into my studio and been very busy ever since, this is absolutely the first moment I have found to sit down and write to you.
You will wish to know some particulars about my studio. Of course after Paris and Rome it is a sad falling off--narrow and dark, though I believe, for London, very fair; when I _live_ here I must have a much larger light or I shall go blind--however, I must not look a gift horse in the mouth. I have had to furnish--this costs me about nine or ten shillings a week; I keep a servant (a stupid, pompous, verbose, dirty, willing, honest scrub) to run my errands and clean my brushes, &c. &c., at half-a-crown a day; models are five shillings a sitting here--ruination!--men with good heads there are none--women, tol-lol!--a lay figure, twenty-five shillings a month; in short, historical painting here is not for nothing; I am working at my "Samson" picture; G.o.d knows how I shall finish it in so short a time! Dearest Mammy, I shall have but a very short peep at you this year, I am very sorry to say--I lost a full month waiting for this wretched studio. I don"t see my way through my work before the middle or even end of the second week in August, and I cannot well give up going to Scotland though only for a very few days, as I have accepted so long ago. I am to go there on the 20th; after that I must rush back post-haste to Stourhead to finish Lady h.o.a.re; all this will make me very late for Italy, as I am anxious to revisit the north of that country and study the Correggios a little at Parma before going south. I shall be obliged to scamper across the country. I _must_ be in Rome or the neighbourhood in October; I am going to finish my Cervara landscape on the spot.
I am in very fair health, London decidedly agrees with me, and I don"t suffer as much as I expected from the obligato spleen of blue devildom. I need not say this is a source of immense congratulation to me.
When the picture "Nanna" returned from the Royal Academy, where it was exhibited in 1859, Leighton sent it to Bath, writing to his mother to announce its arrival.
LONDON, 1859.
DEAREST MAMMY,--I scribble a word in haste to announce to you that I have sent "Nanna" off to Bath for you to see, she wants varnish very badly as you see, but is not dry enough for that yet. You must mind and put her in the right light, the window must be on the left of the spectator--the more to the _left_ of the picture you stand yourself the less you will see the want of varnish. If you stand to the _right_ of the painting you won"t see it at all. Please send "Nanna" back when you have shown to whom you wish, as she is overdue at Paris.
_Sat.u.r.day Morning, 1859._
I returned yesterday from the Highlands, and have at last time to write you a little word. My stay in the North has been most satisfactory, I have enjoyed myself thoroughly, and have felt particularly well in the keen bracing air of the mountains. My time has been spent exclusively in walks, rides, and drives, for the weather was great part of the time too uncertain to allow of sitting out to paint (even had there been time), whereas no amount of showers prevented our going out, and indeed to those showers I owe seeing some of the most superb effects of colour, light and shade, that I ever beheld. We used sometimes to have three or four duckings in one ride, drying again in the sun, or not as the case might be, and never catching even the phantom of a cold, so healthy and invigorating is the breath of those healthy hills. I said I painted nothing and bring home an empty portfolio (all but a flower I drew one _very_ wet morning), but I have studied a great deal with my eyes and memory, and come back a better landscape painter than I went. On my road home, at Dunkeld, where I lingered a day (exquisite spot), I jotted down in oils two reminiscences of effects observed at Kinrara with which I am rather well pleased--one is a stormy Scandinavian bit of cloud and hill, the other a hot sunny expanse of golden corn and purple heather, which looks for all the world like a bit of Italy. Mind, they are the merest little sketches, but accurate in the _impression of the effect_.
I go on Monday morning to Stourhead, where I stay till Sat.u.r.day, and start Monday week for the Continent. Please send me a line to Stourhead. How are you, darling? and Lina and Gus? and Papa?
Have you had any more drives?--Your loving boy,
FRED.
On returning to England Leighton took up his abode in his first studio in England. Hitherto he had paid visits to London,--Rome, and subsequently Paris, being his real home, for an artist"s true home is in his studio. In the autumn of 1859 he settled in 2 Orme Square, and from that time to his death London became his headquarters.
After having settled into his studio in Orme Square in the winter of 1859, he wrote to Steinle and to Robert Browning the following letters:--
_Translation._]
2 ORME SQUARE, BAYSWATER, LONDON, _December 5, 1859_.
MY DEAR FRIEND AND MASTER,--What a long time it is since I heard from you! my last letter, despatched from Rome, has had no answer.
I enclose a photograph of a memorial tablet which I executed in Rome last winter for my poor widowed sister. The monument is of white marble with black mosaic decoration; the four dark circles are bronze nails, which secure the marble tablet to the wall.
When I had finished work in Rome, I went south and spent five weeks in Capri. You would hardly believe, dear Friend, how this wonderful island delighted me. I made vigorous use of my visit and executed a fairly large number of conscientious studies. I also took the opportunity to visit Paestum for the first time. I may say that the _Temple of Neptune_ gave me the most exalted architectonic impression that I have ever received; I shall never forget that morning. The two neighbouring temples, however, are not worth looking at, except from a painter"s point of view.
Meanwhile, the season being advanced, I was obliged, with real regret, to give up my plan of going to Frankfurt, and to hurry back to England. Here I am now permanently established. I confess that I did not pitch my tent here without some anxiety; I had not spent _a single winter_ in England since my earliest childhood, and I had good reason to fear that to me, with my love of sunshine, it would prove a little harsh. I also feared the climate for my bodily health. However, "native air" appears to be not altogether an empty phrase, but I find myself, notwithstanding the fog, well and in good spirits. Man must indeed carry the sun in his heart--if he is to have it. Of work in particular, I have nothing much to say. Later, in the course of the winter, I will report more at length.
Meanwhile, dear Master, write to me very soon. Tell me whether you still think of your pupil, and especially tell me about your certainly numerous works.--Your grateful pupil,
LEIGHTON.
_Translation._]
2 ORME SQUARE, BAYSWATER, LONDON, _January 12, 1860_.
I spoke little in my last letter of my present work, partly perhaps because of the feeling I have already described, but partly also because I intend to send you a photograph directly the picture is finished, which will not be till spring. It is a commission, and the subject is religious. There is only a single figure, and I would describe it to you now, but that I fear you would imagine the picture much more beautiful than I can paint it, and you would consequently suffer a disappointment later on in my work which would be painful to me. For the rest, I am striving as hard as I can to make it fine and simple. You will perhaps be surprised, but, in spite of my fanatic preference for colour, I promised myself to be a draughtsman before I became a colourist.
And now adieu, my dear Friend. Directly I can show you anything in "black and white" you shall hear from me again, and I shall expect from you, as my old master, the most unsparing criticism; that is the greatest proof of love you can give me.
FRED LEIGHTON.
2 ORME SQUARE, BAYSWATER, _January 29, "60_.
DEAR BROWNING,--It is not till the other day that I at last received from Cartwright your Rome address, or I should have written to you some time ago; before it was too late to wish you a merry Xmas and health, happiness, and all prosperity for yourself and Mrs. Browning in the present year. I don"t know that I have anything worth telling you to write about, for all the little incidents which have their importance for the s.p.a.ce of a day, all appear too trivial to write about after a lapse of a week or two. Still I write to a.s.sure you I keep up my most affectionate remembrance of you, and to beg that you won"t entirely forget me. I received your kind letter at the beginning of the winter, and was truly concerned to hear that Mrs.
Browning had been so alarmingly unwell; I trust that the air of Rome, which once before was so beneficial to her, will have strengthened and recruited her again this time. Dear old Rome!
how I wish I could fly over and spend a week or so with you all in my old haunts. I suppose I shall never be entirely weaned of that yearning affection I entertain for Italy, and particularly for Rome and the "Comarea." You must have it all to yourselves this year. What a delight it must be to see neither Brown, Jones, nor Robinson.
I suppose Cartwright, Pantaleone, and Odo Russell are the staple of your convivial circle; and, by-the-bye, how much more freely Mrs. Browning must breathe this winter without certain daily visitations which I remember last year. I wonder whether you will write to me and tell me what you are doing, socially and artistically; everything about you will interest me.
As for myself, you would not believe it, in spite of my old habits of continental life and sunshine, I take very kindly to England; _it agrees_ with me capitally, really better than Rome.