Part 9

As the lady retired from the front of the orchestra, she, to keep herself in practice, curtsied to me with as much respect as she would had Colonel Topham been the patron of a gala night.[267] “This is too bad,” again observed Keyse; “and I am sure you cannot expect fireworks!” However, he politely asked me to partake of a bottle of Lisbon, which upon my refusing, he pressed me to accept of a catalogue of his pictures.

Blewitt[268] (who at that time lived in Bermondsey Square), the scholar of Jonathan Battishill,[269] was the composer for the Spa establishment. The following verse is the first of his most admired composition,--“In lonely cot by Humber’s side.”

My old and worthy friend _Joseph_ Caulfield,[270] Blewitt’s favourite pupil, of whom he learned thorough bass, related to me the following anecdote of a musical composer, as told him by his master:--“When I was going upstairs,” said Blewitt, “to the attics, where one of my instructors lived (for I had many), I hesitated on the second-floor landing-place, upon hearing my master and his wife at high words. ‘Get you gone!’ said the lofty paper-ruffled composer, ‘retire to your apartments!’ This command of her lord she did not immediately obey; however, in a short time after, I heard the clattering of plates against the wall, and upon entering the room, I discovered that the lady had retired, but not before she had covered the whitewashed wall profusely with the unbroiled sprats.”

“I was at a musical party,” continued my friend Joseph, “at Lord Sandwich’s,[271] in Hertford Street, Mayfair, when, among other specimens of the best masters, I heard Battishill’s beautiful composition of

“Amidst the myrtles as I walk, Love and myself thus entered talk, ‘Tell me,’ said I, in deep distress, ‘Where I may find my Shepherdess.’”[272]

Upon expressing my pleasure at hearing the above performed in so superior a style, his Lordship told me he had written a sequel, which he thus repeated:--

“Love said to me, ‘Thou faithful swain, Thy search in myrtle groves is vain; Examine well thy noblest part, Thou’lt find her seated in thy heart.’”

It appears that in poetry, as well as in painting and prints, and also in dwellings, decorations, and dress, there has ever been a fashion for a time. Battishill was the composer of that justly celebrated glee, commencing with “Underneath this _myrtle_ shade.” Myrtles, after having had a great run, were succeeded by Cupid’s darts; and that little rogue Love played _old gooseberry_ with the hearts of Chloes and Colins, Robins and Robinets; then the ever-blooming lasses of Patterdale and Richmond Hill attracted our giddy notice. These were succeeded by “Bacchus in green ivy bound,” giving “Joy and pleasure all around.” After that, moonlight meetings were preferred, and “Buy a broom, ladies,” was continually dinning our ears “through and through.”

1796.

In the summer of this year, the late John Wigston, Esq., then of Millfield House, Edmonton, having repeatedly expressed a wish to see the famous George Morland before he commenced a collection of his pictures, I having been known to that child of nature in my boyish days, offered to introduce them to each other.[273] Morland then resided in Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square, in the house formerly inhabited by Sir Thomas Apreece. He received us in the drawing-room, which was filled with easels, canvases, stretching-frames, gallipots of colour, and oil-stones; a stool, chair, and a three-legged table were the only articles of furniture of which this once splendid apartment could then boast. Mr. Wigston, his generous-hearted visitor, immediately bespoke a picture, for which he gave him a draft for forty pounds, that sum being exactly the money he then wanted; but this gentleman had, like most of that artist’s employers, to ply him close for his picture.

As Mrs. Wigston had a great desire to see Morland, he was invited to take a day’s sport with the hounds, which the artist accepted, with a full assurance of punctuality. However, as usual with that eccentric man, he only arrived time enough for dinner, accompanied by eight of those persons denominated _his friends_. Mrs. Wigston, an elegant and most accomplished lady, was in consequence deprived of a sight of this far-famed genius. I was deputed by my honoured friend Mr. Wigston to take Mrs. Wigston’s abdicated chair, and carved for this pretty set, consisting of persons unaccustomed to sit at such a table. Our worthy host soon discovered their strong propensity for spirituous liquors, three of them even during dinner, instead of taking wine, of which there were many sorts on the table, calling for a glass of brandy. After hearing several jokes and humorous songs from some of the party, George Morland declared he must go, having an engagement with Mrs. Laye, and other friends, at “Otter’s Pool.”[274]

When Morland and his party entered the stable-yard, the following altercation took place between Mr. Wigston and his groom.

_Mr. Wigston._--“Bring out these gentlemen’s horses.”

_Groom._--“Horses, horses! they’ll find ’um at the ‘Two Jolly Brewers.’ Horses, indeed!”

_Mr. Wigston._--“And why, Sir, were they sent there?”

_Groom._--“Why, I would not suffer such cattle to come near your stud; for I never saw such a set-out in my life!”

The party accordingly betook themselves to the “Brewers”; but upon our return to the honest though rough diamond of a groom, he observed that it was past two o’clock, and that the dog ought to have been let loose two hours ago!

1797.

Although my mother continued till the time of her death in the habit of the Society of Friends, and my father followed most of the popular Methodists, I, from my earliest days of reflection, gave a preference to the Established Church of England. Notwithstanding this, my inquisitiveness now and then induced me to hear celebrated preachers of every sect. I remember one Sunday morning in this year, after intending to enter some church on my way to dine with my great-aunt on Camberwell Green, my ears were most agreeably greeted with the swelling pipes of the Surrey Chapel organ.[275] Why, thinks I to myself, should not I hear Rowland Hill? Surely it must be now full twenty years since I saw him in Moorfields, at my last visit to the Tabernacle. In I accordingly went; and though a smile with me was always deemed highly indecorous during divine worship, yet the truth must out; I could not help sometimes laughing--as heartily, though not so loudly, I hope, as all of us when led into the enjoyment of Momus’s strongest fits by the inimitable Mathews.

No sooner was the sermon over and the blessing bestowed, than Rowland electrified his hearers by vociferating, “Door-keepers, shut the doors!” Slam went one door; bounce went another; bang went a third; at last, all being anxiously silent as the most importantly unexpected scenes of Sir Walter Scott could make them, the pastor, with a slow and dulcet emphasis, thus addressed his congregation:--“My dearly beloved, I speak it to my shame, that this sermon was to have been a charity sermon, and if you will only look down into the green pew at those--let me see--three and three are six, and one makes seven, young men with red morocco prayer-books in their hands, poor souls! they were backsliders, for they went on the Serpentine River, and other far distant waters, on a Sabbath; they were, however, as you see, all saved from a watery grave. I need not tell ye that my exertions were to have been for the benefit of that benevolent institution the Humane Society.--_What!_ I see some of ye already up to be gone; fie! fie! fie!--never heed your dinners; don’t be Calibans, nor mind your pockets. I know that some of ye are now attending to the devil’s whispers. I say, listen to me! take my advice, give shillings instead of sixpences; and those who intended to give shillings, display half-crowns, in order not only to thwart the foul fiend’s mischievousness, but to get your pastor out of this scrape; and if you do, I trust Satan will never put his foot within this circle again. Hark ye! I have hit upon it; ye shall leave us directly. The Bank Directors, you must know, have called in the dollars; now, if any of you happen to be encumbered with a stale dollar or two, jingle the Spanish in our dishes; we’ll take them, they’ll pass current here. Stay, my friends, a moment more. I am to dine with the Humane Society on Tuesday next, and it would shock me beyond expression to see the strings of the Surrey Chapel lay dangle down its sides like the tags upon Lady Huntingdon’s servants’ shoulders. Now, mind what I say, upon this occasion I wish for a bumper as strenuously as Master Hugh Peters did, when he recommended his congregation in Broadway Chapel to take a second glass.” It is recorded that when he found the sand of his hour-glass had descended, he turned it, saying, “Come, I know you to be jolly dogs, we’ll take t’other glass.”[276] I understand that Rowland Hill is not made up of veneer, but of solid well-seasoned stuff, with a heart of oak, and ever willing to exercise kindness to his fellow-creatures, upon the system of my friend Charles Lamb.[277]

In May this year I applied to my worthy friend, Mr. John Constable, now a Royal Academician, for any particulars which he might be able to procure respecting Gainsborough, he being also a Suffolk man; and I had the pleasure of receiving the following letter:--

“EAST BERGHOLT, _7th May, 1797_.

“_Dear Friend Smith_,--If you remember, in my last I promised to write again soon, and tell you what I could about Gainsborough. I hope you will not think me negligent when I inform you that I have not been able to learn anything of consequence respecting him: I can assure you it is not for the want of asking that I have not been successful, for indeed I have talked with those who knew him. I believe in Ipswich they did not know his value till they lost him. He belonged to something of a musical club in that town, and painted some of their portraits in a picture of a choir; it is said to be very curious.

“I heard it was in Colchester; I shall endeavour to see it before I come to town, which will be soon. He was generally the butt of the company, and his wig was to them a fund of amusement, as it was often snatched from his head and thrown about the room, etc.; but enough of this. I shall now give you a few lines verbatim, which my friend Dr. Hamilton, of Ipswich, was so good as to send me; though it amounts to nothing, I am obliged to him for taking the commission.

“‘I have not been neglectful of the inquiries respecting Gainsborough, but have learned nothing worth your notice. There is no vale or grove distinguished by his name in this neighbourhood. There is a place up the river-side where he often sat to sketch, on account of the beauty of the landscape, its extensiveness, and richness in variety, both in the fore and back grounds. It comprehended Bramford and other distant villages on one side; and on the other side of the river extended towards Nacton, etc. Friston alehouse must have been near, for it seems he has introduced the Boot signpost in many of his best pictures. Smart and Frost[278] (two drawing-masters in Ipswich) often go there now to take views; whether they be inspired from pressing the same sod with any of this great painter’s genius, you are a better judge than I am. Farewell.’

“This, my dear friend, is the little all I have yet gained, but though I have been unsuccessful, it does not follow that I should relinquish my inquiries. If you want to know the exact time of his birth, I will take a ride over to Sudbury, and look into the register.[279] There is an exceeding fine picture of his painting at Mr. Kilderby’s, in Ipswich.

“Since I last wrote to you I have made another attempt at etching; have succeeded a little better, but yet fall very short. I shall send you an impression soon.

“I doubt there is nothing in my last parcel of cottages worth your notice; am obliged to you for the little sketch after Hobbima. I understand the present exhibition is a very good one; I understand Sir G. Beaumont excels. My friend Gubbins informs me that you have finished Lady Plomer’s Palace,[280] and that you have made a sketch from the fire in the Minories; surely it must have put our friend C----h to the rout.[281] Thine sincerely,

“JOHN CONSTABLE.”

Mrs. Pope, the actress, died this year in Half Moon Street, Piccadilly, and was buried in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey.[282]

Being anxious to add something more to the memory of this amiable character, I applied to her surviving husband; when that gentleman very obligingly favoured me with the following copy of a record, which he made soon after her death:--

“The best of women and the best of wives drew her last breath at half-past two o’clock on Wednesday morning, the 15th of March, 1797.

“Her illness lasted about seven weeks; her complaint palsy, beginning in her head, and depriving her of the use of her left hand. Her death was an awful lesson; her loss irreparable.”[283]

In the room with the bow-window on the first-floor of the same house, Mr. Pope[284] produced some excellent portraits in crayons, of persons of the first fashion, many of them little inferior in every respect to those of the celebrated Francis Cotes;[285] the inimitable whole-length portrait of Grattan, of which there is an engraving, will be a lasting and mutual record of the artist and patriot. The following letter, given to me by my late worthy friend Dr. Mathew, was written by Mrs. Pope, to her friend Mrs. Mathew, of Rathbone Place:--

“DUBLIN, _July 6th_.

“I flatter myself that my ever loved and most highly esteemed friends will be pleased to receive the assurance of my health, and to know that I am in the possession of as much comfort as _my_ mind is capable to receive out of England. Thank God, all things as yet go on well, and the exertions of business do not seem to do that injury to my health which I had great reason to fear. We have acted six nights, _Jane Shore_ first, a _very great_ house, _well received_, and Pope’s speech to _Gloster_ twice repeated, which I think proves in a great degree the loyalty of the people.

“_Gloster’s_ speech, thus:--

“‘What if some patriot for the public good Should vary from your scheme,--new mould the State?

“‘_Hastings._--Curse on the innovating hand that ’tempts it! Remember him, the villain, righteous Heaven, In thy great day of vengeance: blast the traitor And his pernicious counsels; who for wealth, For power, the pride of greatness, or revenge, Would plunge his native land in civil wars.’

“It is impossible to describe the effect this speech had on the audience. I think you would have been gratified to have heard it; it is the first time a speech in a tragedy was ever repeated. Perhaps it proves the loyalty of this city. I hear there are sad doings in the country parts of Ireland; I trust we shall meet with nothing of it: we stay in Dublin all this month, then go to Cork. Our second characters were _Mr._ and _Mrs. Beverley_, highly esteemed and greatly spoken of; third, _Belvidera_ and _Jaffier_--with good success. Their last new play, _How to grow Rich_, twice; and yesterday _Elizabeth_ and _Essex_, which, by the way, Pope acted well. Next week _Columbus_. I count the nights, though now I trust I shall be able to go through them all. So much for myself.

“And now, my friends, let me beg that you will favour me with a little account of yourselves. I ardently wish to hear that you are all well and happy, in the full possession of that _true felicity_, which your goodness of heart so justly merits. God bless you both! Mr. Pope unites with me in respectful remembrance to the Baron, and affectionate esteem to the whole family, particularly in respect and affection to Mrs. and Miss Mathew. Adieu: I don’t like to leave off, and yet I hardly think you can read what I have already written.

“Ever your most affectionate

“E. POPE.”

1798.

This year, in consequence of the death of Mr. Green,[286] who had been drawing-master to Christ’s Hospital, I stood candidate for the situation; and, though I was unsuccessful, my testimonials being so flattering, I cannot withstand the temptation of printing them, whatever may be said by my enemies, who may not be able to produce anything half so honourable.

“May 10th, 1798.

“We whose names are subscribed, having seen specimens of drawings by John Thomas Smith, are of opinion that he is qualified for the office of drawing-master in the school of Christ’s Hospital.

I not only think him qualified as an artist, but greatly to be respected as a man.

BENJAMIN WEST, PREST. R.A.

Being not personally acquainted with Mr. J. T. Smith, I have examined his performances, and I think him well qualified for the above office.

J. F. RIGAUD, R.A.

I have known him from a child, and think him an honest man and well _qualified_ for the office.

JOSEPH NOLLEKENS, R.A.

I have long been acquainted with Mr. J. T. Smith’s merits as a good artist and a worthy man.

JOHN FLAXMAN, Jun., Sculptor, Associate R.A.; R.A. of Florence and Carrara.

We subscribe to the above opinion.--

W. BEECHEY, R.A. elect. W. HAMILTON, R.A. THOMAS STOTHARD, R.A. JOHN RUSSELL, R.A. J. BACON, R.A. T. BANKS, R.A. JAMES BARRY, R.A., Professor of Painting. JOHN OPIE, R.A. R. COSWAY, R.A. JAMES NORTHCOTE, R.A. JOS. FARINGTON, R.A. RICHARD WESTALL, R.A. HENRY FUSELI, R.A. H. COPLEY, R.A.

I have long known Mr. Smith as an artist and respectable man, and believe him to be perfectly capable of filling the office he solicits with honour.

P. REINAGLE, A.

We subscribe to the above opinion.

FRANCIS BARTOLOZZI, R.A. RICHARD COLLINS. CALEB WHITEFOORD.

We have known Mr. Smith for upwards of fourteen years, and we have found him an able drawing-master to our daughter, whose drawings he has never touched upon; a practice too often followed by drawing-masters in general: and we believe him to be a truly valuable member of society, as a husband, father, and good man.

JAMES WINTER LAKE. JESSY LAKE.

We can never subscribe our names with greater satisfaction, than in signifying the very high opinion we have of Mr. Smith, both as to his talents and character.

JAMES LAKE. ATWILL LAKE.

I fully subscribe to the above opinion,

RICHARD WYATT, Milton Place.

I believe Mr. Smith to be a very deserving man, and well qualified for the situation he is ambitious of obtaining.

JOHN CHARLES CROWLE.

Thomas Allen has a great respect for Mr. Smith, both as a man and an artist.

JOSEPH WILLIAMSON, A.M., Vicar of St. Dunstan in the West.

I am personally acquainted with Mr. J. T. Smith, and esteem him one of the best of men.

JOHN BOYDELL, Alderman.

I am happy to bear testimony to the character of Mr. Smith as a man, and to find him so highly respected as an artist.

T. THOMSON.

I have long known Mr. Smith to be an ingenious artist, an able instructor, and a benevolent and honest man.

JOHN CRANCH.

I have known Mr. Smith many years, and believe him very capable of filling the office of drawing-master to Christ’s Hospital with credit to himself and advantage to the charity.

HENRY HOWARD.

J. SWAINSON. T. WHITTINGHAM. J. NIXON, Basinghall Street. HENRY SMITH, Drapers’ Hall. ALEX. LEAN SMYTH, the Hudson’s Bay Company. ARTHUR BALL, } JOHN BROOME, } Hudson’s Bay House GEORGE WHITEHEAD, Cateaton Street.

Providence, which placed me next door to Mr. J. T. Smith for several years, made me intimately acquainted with a faithful husband, an affectionate father, and an honest man.

CHARLES GOWER, M.D.”

1799.

On the 4th of August this year, died at his mansion in Rutland Square, Dublin, the Right Hon. James, Earl of Charlemont,[287] who was born 18th of August, 1728. This gentleman was truly a nobleman, for he was one of the greatest patrons of the fine arts this country could boast of. He was the great friend of Hogarth; bought many of his pictures, particularly that most elegant performance so justly celebrated under the title of “The Lady’s Last Stake,” so admirably engraven by Mr. Cheesman.[288] The following is a copy of an original letter given to me by a late worthy friend; it is addressed to the late Sir Lawrence Parsons, Bart.,[289] and written by Lord Charlemont within eight months of his Lordship’s death.

“DUBLIN, _12th Jan., 1799_.

“MY DEAR SIR LAWRENCE,--As nothing has ever affected me with more painful astonishment than the shameful apathy and consequent silence of the country at the present desperate crisis of our fate as a nation, so have I experienced few more real pleasures than in having found, by the public papers, that a meeting of your county, at least, has been called; a pleasure which, though principally derived from my ardent zeal for the public service, is still further increased by my friendship for you, as I am too well acquainted with your sentiments to doubt for a moment that such call has been in the highest degree satisfactory and flattering to your feelings. Neither can I entertain the slightest apprehension that the result of any meeting of Irishmen will be other than the firm and spirited condemnation of a measure, replete with every disgrace and danger in their country. Never, indeed, were my beloved countrymen so forcibly called upon as at the present emergency, maturely to form their opinions and to speak aloud the dictates of their hearts. Their ancestors call upon them from their graves to preserve those national rights which they have transmitted to them. Their children from their cradles, with mute but prevailing eloquence, beseech them to protect and to defend their birthrights; and, with a more awful voice, their country calls upon them not by their silence to betray her dearest interests, or by their supineness to leave _her_ enslaved whom they found free! Thus invoked, is it possible that Irishmen should remain silent?